#still woefully behind

[tarantula-hawk-wasp]

Cleaned my stovetop for the first time in 5 weeks. And caught up completely on dishes. I’m meant to be finishing my ma thesis but at least this is productive procrastination even if I’m not tackling the important things on my to-do list that actually matter for my long term future and this is the low hanging fruit of productivity

[voltrohgodwhat]

help

Bonus shoutout to that lonely little Lance-centric fic doc I haven't touched in eternity. Lance actually started this mess, and the laser-focus of fixation would have gone to him... except, Keith jumped in the way and took the hit for him.

I always picture Lance as being particularly salty about this, solely because he "lost" to Keith.

[cloud-based-and-rainpilled]

This is blackbonnet’s “We’re a group of the two of us”

EDIT: WAIT I’M BEHIND IZZY SAID THIS??? I AM UNWELL

"I have... love for you, Edward" what a fantastically fucking unhinged way to confess to anybody. The clear reluctance. The pause, the averted eyes. "I have it" like it's some fatal disease, something he's carrying, something he wishes someone would take away. Perhaps even something he wishes could be....................amputated, one might say

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

You mean to tell me instead of paying stupid shipping rates and markups to the TS store I could have just purchased my 1989 TV CD and vinyl from Indigo locally???

[cygnusxxii]

.

[moonstruckme]

hello! I spent a whole day reading your marauder fics and I am obsessed with them and your writing. I was wondering (if you’re still taking requests) if you could write one with poly!marauders with a slytherin!reader where she acts cold and tough with everyone else but turns soft for the boys and they tease her about it but only because they LOVE it.

hope that’s enough! ❤️

Thank you lovely!!

cw: takes place in the infirmary, our poor lovely Jamie is hurt </3

poly!marauders x slytherin!reader ♡ 931 words

“I’m fine.” You stalk down the hallway, batting away the hands of your friends like mosquitos. “I’m fine, it doesn’t even hurt. Sod off.” 

The door to the infirmary opens, a familiar head of black hair peeking out. He says your name. 

Something in you slackens reflexively. “I’ll meet up with you later,” you tell your pursuers, darting inside. 

You find yourself pressed against Sirius’ chest, his hand covering the back of your head protectively. You don’t try to free yourself from the embrace, but you do angle your head on his shoulder, trying to see the bed behind him. 

“Is James okay?” 

“He is,” comes James’ overly upbeat voice, and you finally get a view of him. He’s sitting upright in bed, his right arm in a sling, looking a bit bedraggled but not much worse for wear. You were terrified he’d be all bloody and broken. Remus sits next to him. His brow is all sewn together, worry flying off him in every direction, and you know he’d be right there with Sirius if his hand weren’t so thoroughly attached to James’ knee. You don’t blame him; you’d only been hit, whereas James had been hit and then fallen thirty feet. 

You’d been watching the Slytherin versus Gryffindor quidditch match from the stands when a wayward bludger had flown toward you, catching you in the shoulder and knocking you clean over. You’d been too busy getting your bearings to see what happened next, but reportedly a Slytherin beater (who you will be having some heated words with in the common room later) took advantage of James’ distraction to send another bludger his way. He came completely off his broom, and though Sirius had been quick with a spell to slow his descent, you can’t imagine the impact with the pitch was pleasant.

“Are you okay?” Remus turns your question back around on you. 

You nod your head into Sirius’ shoulder, giving him a fierce squeeze around the middle before wriggling out of his grasp. 

“You didn’t hit your head?” you ask James, stealing a chair from another bed and sitting beside him. You burrow your fingers into his curls to feel for yourself. 

“Nope,” he says, catching your wrist with his uninjured hand and kissing the inside. “I’m good, sweetheart. Just dislocated my shoulder s’all.” 

“S’all?” Your voice is incredulous. You feel your face scrunch woefully as you stroke his cheek with your thumb. “Jamie, I’m so sorry.” 

His eyebrows fly up. “I don’t see what you’d be apologizing for.” 

You grimace, your good shoulder coming up sheepishly. “I distracted you…” 

“You didn’t ask to take a crack from a bludger,” Remus says, quiet but stern. His eyes dip to your shoulder, where the cursed thing had struck. “Let’s see it.” 

You sigh and pull down the sleeve of your jumper. You hadn’t been expecting it to bruise yet, but the red mark is already starting to darken around the edges. James hisses through his teeth as Sirius rounds you, crouching beside your chair to get a better look. 

“Shit,” he says, frowning as he touches the mark gingerly with the tip of his thumb, “are you sure you haven’t knocked your shoulder out too?” 

“I don’t think so,” you say, somewhat quietly. Being at the center of your boyfriends’ combined concern is a disaster for your nerves; it makes you as timid as a first year. 

James pouts at you, taking the hand closest to him and pressing a wet smooch to your palm. 

“I heard you sniping at your friends in the hallway,” Sirius says. “You can’t tell me that doesn’t hurt, doll.”

You look at him through your lashes, sheepish. “It does,” you admit. 

He and James coo, and you roll your eyes, turning away from them both. 

Remus’ eyebrows pull up in the middle, his gaze gentle on yours. It softens you considerably. “Think you ought to have it looked at?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” James says brightly, “we could match.” 

Remus’ frown deepens at the reminder, his hand rubbing sympathetically at James’ knee. 

“Thanks, but I’m okay.” You give James a weary smile, but his eyes narrow behind his glasses. 

“You want something,” he says. 

You blink. “No, I don’t.” 

He studies you a second longer, then nods. “Yeah you do,” he decides. “Out with it.” 

You blow out a breath, rolling your eyes, but he waits. You can’t quite look at any of them as you say, “I just sort of want a hug.” 

“Aww,” Sirius croons, all but pushing himself into you as he engulfs you in his arms. “The ice queen melts at last, huh?” 

“Don’t tell anyone,” you mumble wryly, and James laughs, giving your fingers a loving squeeze. “Anyway, I’m not the one who wound up in the infirmary.” 

“Only because Jamie’s smart enough to go.” Remus gives you a meaningful look, but there’s enough softness in it to let you know he’s not really cross with you. Still, you muffle your apology into Sirius’ shoulder. 

He holds you tighter. Digs his fingertips greedily into the material of your jumper. 

“Don’t hurt her shoulder,” James says fretfully. 

“I’m not,” Sirius replies, but he loosens his grip a bit. “I’m not, right?” You hum your agreement, and he’s pressing in on you again, biceps flexing. “You’re our lovebug,” he tells you, teasing undercut by an uncharacteristic firmness. “You know you don’t have to be tough around us, yeah?” 

You grasp the tops of his shoulders in response, an affection so huge it pains you rising in your throat. “Yeah,” you say. 

[tuxedonet]

ঌ HAVING A BIMBO GIRLFRIEND ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ starring. hotd male cast.

" significant moments in the life of house of the dragon ⠀⠀⠀ actors with their significant other peculiar style. "

✱ MATT SMITH ──── the taming one .

he revered you fervently , really. his thorax swelled with the swash of a scalding wave , swamping in a purr of contentment as he delineated the zig―zag of your frisky teeny skirt and the swing of your denuded hips. he straightened his back and the coast of his pink mouth steepened into a sly smirk , with the pride that only a father could carry ― that your daddy should carry. don't fret , for that was what he was there for , breathing in the succulent rivulet that crammed the itty―bitty bottle of mon paris by yves saint laurent at the juncture of your clavicle.

the enthralling clatter of your pinkish platform heels gouge through the hallway of his home , prompting him of your presence long before you appeared in his office where he was striving to conclude a mailing for his agent. his black mount glasses hung loosely down the bridge of his nose , and his brow furrowed tenderly as he peered up. he got tanked on the contrast of raw denim and mulberry of your attire , your pompous lips gleaming in dior lip gloss coiled the artificially flavored sphere of a lollipop , letting it flee in a wet lashing. the peak of your fussy tongue sweeps the thin , sweetish coating of your mouth , before stamping them thunderously against his flat , satiny cheek with magnified affection.

you fall heedlessly into his lap , and his upper limb wraps around the deep arch of your waist , his thick fingers kneading the velvety flesh of your belly. his chin slump on the hill of your shoulder , pecking at your mandible. your arm tauten forward , prying deer―eyed at the sleek keyboard of his computer , twinkling in inquisitiveness.

" tsk .ᐟ don't touch that , little girl. " he hisses gruffly , with the pitch pattern of a anew awakened man , but it was solely the outcome of the cigarettes he smoked and the pure rum glasses he drank at night .

you sulk , whining. " i want to show you something , amorcito. "

he slant his head , humming unbiddenly. his leg hops in snappy , brief leaps , cooing the wrinkling frown amidst your brows.

" is it perhaps a new collection of dresses ? hmm , pretty thing ? " he inquired with the gallantry that diminished his ill―judged accusation. he perceives your perky nods , twisting your neck to ogle at him desirously. " i recall buying you some dresses last week. dare you tell me the day , beautiful? " he tattle.

your index finger fiddles with the marble polished shore of his desk , your face of porcelain misshape into a pensive countenance. " it was saturday. " you dissolve. " but i've used them all already. " you blurt woefully , and he jolt a hum once again in settlement.

" you still haven't  used  the purple one. " the ridges of your mouth droop quivering , and your arms cut cross in a relinquish tantrum.

" it doesn't look pretty on me. " you chatter in a garble timbre. matt smother a chortle behind your shoulder blade , rubbing several frail kisses instead.

he scratches the tarp of your naked stomach in succor. " to me you look  divine  in anything. " he offers mawkishly . " why don't you go and wear it  for me , heh? i promise to buy you more dresses once you wear it , darling. " he silkily commend on the curvature of your earlobe , and said in that manner makes the conception mouth―watering to your palette.

you ascend from his thigh , primed to comply. your fingers shoves the edges of your skirt below the end of the fleshy globes of your bottom.

" tsk .ᐟ give me a kiss before you leave. "

✱ EWAN MITCHELL ──── the weak in the knees one . 

poor boy , he just can't help but stare. your clothes were intrepid , appealing to the eye — bewitching to him. you strutted in pleated skirts that swayed with your cat―walk and heels that elongate your legs , mid―thigh length stockings smooth to the tact of the pads of his avid fingers and glossy lipsticks that accentuated the benign fat of your lips , scented your languid neck with expensive perfumes and decorated your wrists with multiple diamond bracelets. low waisted pants on monday mornings and freakum dresses on friday nights. each wardrobe yanked him to you , yearning to feel the ricochet material underneath his sweaty palms , to taste the artificial flavor in your mouth.

he would meticulously behold the arduous process , sitting on the toilet seat in the bathroom of the hotel room both of you were staying in. you would take great exertion to match an outfit that went associated with his on every date , an effort he took amorously to heart.

his head glided in the direction of your nimble hand , picking up hair brushes and makeup tools. he would hum thoughtlessly once you displayed the utility of each item , and enshrine them in his brain. he would timorously ask about the purpose of certain things , and even persuade you in a sunken stammer to applicate them on his sharp face. with a squeal of excitement , you always encountered yourself dusting his hoisted cheekbones with base and adding coconut lip―balm to his naturally pouty mouth.

" you look beautiful , mi amor. " you adulate your handiwork , grooming his golden brown mane backwards with a leopard patterned pocket comb.

the coast of his lips stretch into a rascal―looking grin. however , the wrinkles at the crook of his orbs attested otherwise.

he aims to the sides of his pointed nose. " does it make my eyes stand out? " he questioned , gazing plumbly at you.

you nod complacently , giving his fleecy strands the finishing touches. you cradle his sleek cheeks between your creamy palms in a distinctive strawberry―scented exfoliating scrub.

" they're poppin'  " you emphasize , and he repeats the word in a vague attempt to mimic the accent.

✱ TOM GLYNN—CARNEY ──── the bragging one .

              the both of you were a chaotic duo , a volatile combination to the public eye. tom possessed no shame whatsoever; he liked what he liked. it was his motto in life , and so far it had rooted him no severe dilemma. therefore , he didn't feel he had to elucidate to anyone why or how he had ended up with a person like you. still , he was interrogated incautiously from time to time; on radio shows , in small interviews at the premieres of his latest project or in gossip from his work friends. he tended to modestly shrug his shoulders and retort concisely , settling with a pearly smile.

nevertheless , such things become grueling over time; the more recognized he develop into , a larger amount of people desired to inquire into his atypical election of a partner. so , nit―picking and witty , he started to take you everywhere. he would show you out on red carpets and in house of the dragon press tour interviews with the edges of his mouth brushing the hint of his ears and his arm sheathed around the dip of your waist .

his thumb kneaded the suave skin under his fingertip , impeling you against his rib cage. with cheeks rosy in a peachy blush and in bashfulness as you stood fore the giant camera , you smiled angelically at the interviewer who vigorously asked him trivially about the development of his character in the second season of the famed  tv show. he managed to entail you divertingly , always delighted to brag about you. 

" aegon could never in his life get someone like her. just look how  pretty  she is in her little dress.ᐟ " he rambled in a sing―songy pitch , steeping rearward for the objective of having them catch your presence veiled below his shoulder. your hand squeezed his bicep beneath the velvety bottle―green jacket , gnawing the gloss painted supple flesh of your lower lip.

you gracefully thwack his left pectoral. " tommy , para. " you babbled above the woman's enliven gaze and words of corroboration spoken with a titanic grin.

he whir smugly , planting a resounding peck on the cotton of your flushed cheek. " they have to know i’m with the most  beautiful girl  they've ever seen. "

✱ HARRY COLLETT ──── the encouraging one .

he is very appeased , following you like a puppy behind its owner. his honeyed orbs gleamed as he took in the sparkles and jewels on your leather corset , or the pearls distributed around the edges of your flare pants. he was enraptured by your existence at all times , he couldn't get enough; not now , not never. you had him by your wide hip , snuggly tied between your bb belt.

he tends to seek your assistance when it comes to attires , sending you pictures of the outfits he will wear for max promotions interviews. he would beg at a certain point in the day for you to do the same if he didn't get a chance to see you for the time being.

he would make sure he was there , watching you at the feet of the queen―sized bed in your room , choosing and mixing outfits , a pout on your glossy pink mouth and your index finger tilted on your chin in a discerning semblance. his aid in those moments was of little use , as he claimed that everything looked good on you. he would keep quiet , then , as he didn't want you to kick him out of the bedroom.

some spontaneous dates were , even , based on shopping. most of the bags were your purchases. none had been your voluntary selection , though. harry would see anything he thinks would match with a skirt or blouse in your closet or clothes newly acquired deep in the chanel handbag sealing his forearm , and scour your regard before putting it in the bushel , buying it for you. when you grumbled at the overpriced accessories and make―up he grasped just because you had stopped to look at them in the aisle of the store , he was hasty to rebuff your perseverance of you paying for them with your money , or return them.

a small gasp erupts from his roseate , pouty mouth , fingers clutching the hanger that held the white jacket with synthetic polar bear fur detailing. " love , look. this would look good on you with your cheetah lace dress. " he comments impetuously , his bunny frontal teeth shining adoringly over the shoulder of the garment.

" it's too expensive , bebé. " you examine the miniature off―white card on the side of the fluffy fabric.

he snorts skeptically  , prudently tossing the gear into the plastic basket amidst his digits. his hand meanders against your palm , and he budge you forward.

" don't worry , it's on me. " he proclaims. " now come on , i think i saw some nice necklaces in that corner over there. "

I WANT REVENGE © TUXEDONET ╱ 2024.

[jensettermandu]

song worthy - jang wonyoung

genre; smut

pairing; show-goer!wonyoung x rockstar!female reader

content; set in the mid 2000s, cigarette use, mentions of wiccans/witches (wony being referred to as a witch at times), still channeling the inner dirt-bag/rockstar core (claiming it <3), rockstar!reader x show-goer!wony. smut; switch wonyoung/reader, cunnilingus (both giving/receiving), fingering (both giving/receiving)

synopsis; wonyoung gets stoped by the frontwoman of the band that's been making a buzz lately and gets offered a deal she can't decline, especially not with the mutual desires that linger in both of their gazes.

wc; 5.4k

masterlist

a/n; this is from a scrapped story, but enjoy!

Y/n’s cold hand dug into the pocket of the black leather jacket before taking out a wrinkled and soft pack of cigarettes. Another sniffle followed, her nose cold as she took one out and put it between her lips, eyes woefully looking at three cigarettes left and no money to buy more.

“So much for being a performer.” She mumbled as the money her band earned was close to nothing. The impulsive decision of dropping school to pursue a band with her friends was biting her in the ass. It felt impossible to do anything right for the forlorn singer who had been negative about her life since the day she was born. 

She put the pack back, searched for the zippo, and groaned when she realised that she had thrown it into the van earlier after lighting her previous one. Her friends were already gone after leaving her behind since she couldn’t crash at theirs; the girl having no place to stay the night at.

The streets were half empty, people passing by and minding their business and cars speeding along the road. She held the stick between her glossy lips, looking around, hearing sirens somewhere in the distance, being well aware of how unsafe this area was and it did make her anxious—at the back of her head which she ignored. 

The wired headphones blasted Jennifer’s Body by Hole and small stones dragged along the wet concrete behind her. Y/n looked back to see a girl walk out from behind the alley she had come from. Unaware of the frontwoman’s presence since her gaze was on the ground beneath her platforms. 

Y/n quickly took the cig out of her mouth. “Hey, hey, wait up!” She called for the stranger, almost stumbling over her duffle bag as she caught onto the girl’s bare arm, stepping over the bag in the process and managing to stay on both feet.

“Are you out of your fucking mind!?” She harshly exclaimed, yanking her arm out of the band member’s grip. Her eyes were hard at the sudden and blenching intrusion that made her back up a step. The girl’s eyebrows raised into a frown as she looked over at the lead singer who was looking back at her. 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, but I just need to borrow a lighter–if you have one on you that is.” She quickly spouted out an apology, noticing she scared her. Y/n’s eyes searched for why the girl seemed so familiar. 

It clicked for Y/n when she looked over at the inch-taller girl. She had seen her in the crowd the past two shows and she remembered because she had a face and style hard to forget. The girl who had just raised her voice at her came as more than a poser. She was dressed in black fishnets with ripped sheer tights under, a small top, exposing most of her skin and a mini leather skirt with a studded belt.

A silence followed after the apology as the taller girl sighed through her nose with fingers looking through the black Rachel bag. She took out a pink bic and Y/n almost in haste grabbed it as she finally had something to light the cigarette with. 

“Thank you,” she muffled out with the cancer stick between plump lips. Her hand came up to cover the side where a gentle yet cold breeze blew at them so the fire wouldn’t blow out. With that she ignited it and inhaled, filling her lungs with the smoke as the tip caught an ember before it turned to ash, burning along the white.

The girl watched the girl she knew as Y/n, the lead singer of the band that just performed.

“Were you at the show?” Y/n questioned her while handing back the lighter, sticking her right hand into the pocket of the leather jacket to keep herself from getting even colder. The taste of the smoke was strong on her tongue, the cheap cigarettes had to suffice as she could not afford any better brands. Not like she had money for a nicotine addiction–not having money for a place to live–but it was too late for consideration.

“Yeah…” She simply confirmed.

Y/n nodded at that and her eyes trailed along the slim figure in front of her and they only stopped on her thighs. She pointed down at her thigh with her head, blowing the smoke to the side while flicking at the cigarette between her fingers. A garter on the girl’s left thigh with a pentacle. 

“Are you Wiccan?” She questioned, knowing enough about the pentacle to know that Wiccans who often identified as witches used them although not all witches were Wiccan.

“You’re the first one to ask me if I’m Wiccan and not Satanist…But yes.” 

Y/n hummed and looked back up from the garter with the steel pentacle. “They usually use an inverted one.” She pointed out, knowing better than to assume the girl was Satanist as they usually used inverted ones. The two had significantly different meanings to them. 

The brunette tilted her head, dark hair falling down her shoulders and over her pale skin that was illuminated by the shitty yellow lights that went along the sidewalk the two girls stood on. 

“So…This is where you offer me a cigarette, rockstar.” The girl said, doing a once over at the lanky musician. Their eyes met, both having slept in smudged eyeliner although the proclaimed Wiccan could see the tiredness and bad nights of sleep on the other girl who chuckled and took out the cigarettes.

“What do I get for a cigarette?” She questioned her and the latter raised her eyebrows as she looked at Y/n who tilted the pack and showed the content inside, three sticks pathetically waiting to be smoked. 

“Only have three left so it’s a big offer.” The singer added. She usually wouldn’t offer or give anyone cigarettes if she only had two or three left. Especially if she had no money. 

“You get the honours of being a kind human being.” She gave the only thing she had to give as she toyed with the lighter in her hold, igniting it and letting go. Her eyes came up and looked at the girl in leather who hummed unsure with smoke coming out of her nose, catching the little shining gem on Y/n’s left nostril.

“What’s your name?” Y/n asked. 

“It’s Wonyoung.” 

She nodded at that, the lead singer still needed a place to stay the night and the weather was turning colder as it was close to being 2:30 am. She took another quick drag and blew out the smoke before licking her lower lip which tasted of vanilla and tobacco. 

“Okay…What would I get for a cigarette and two tickets to the show next Friday, Wony?” She offered Wonyoung. 

The tickets were somewhat expensive, around 20 bucks, 10 for entrance to the club and 10 for the band's show. Expensive or not, Y/n saw no reason for Wonyoung to deny because who said no to free tickets? She always carried a few on her as they at times worked like money. Aside from the duffle bag filled with clothes and another pair of shoes, they were her most prized possession at the moment. 

The deal was made as Wonyoung’s fingers nimbly reached for a cigarette from the pack as she spoke. “What do you need?” She asked before putting the stick between her plump lips, covering it from the wind and lighting it with the pink bic. Her gaze came back up to Y/n after as the smoke they blew out trailed away from them. 

“A place to stay for the night…I have the tickets in my bag.” Y/n pointed to the bag behind her feet while hoping that the newly met stranger would let her crash. In the end, she seemed harmless as she was hot and liked their music if she had shown up to three shows. It wouldn't be Y/n’s first time crashing at a stranger's place.

“My car is parked right there…I live along the boulevard.” Wonyoung said and pointed along the sidewalk where a black sedan stood. That was enough for Y/n to turn around and get the duffle bag.

Wonyoung eyed the lithe girl who turned her back to her. At the moment her confusion was how the whole idea seemed ludicrous because why on earth did the frontwoman need a place to stay? She didn’t ask though because she felt like it wasn’t her business and neither did she judge. In the end, she got two free tickets and the band’s lead singer all in the deal. The new sex symbol among showgoers. There was no need for complaints. 

“Let’s get going then.” Y/n sighed, huffing as she slung the heavy bag over her shoulder while ignoring the pain of the strap straining through the leather jacket and against her shoulder. 

Wonyoung led the way as they walked beside each other, the heels of their chunky boots dragging along the wet concrete, unconsciously kicking at small pebbles as they approached the car. 

She opened the BMW E36, the lights blinking as the locks released and Y/n put the stick between her lips while opening the back seat to put her bag inside while the witch got into the driver’s seat. The doors slammed closed after them and the frontwoman got into the passenger seat in the front as Wonyoung started the car.

“Are you like a fan or something?” Y/n curiously questioned once she was settled, glancing at Wonyoung while slightly rolling down the window to let out the smoke just like the driver's side window was down. It let in the cool breeze and prevented the smoke from lingering longer than needed. 

Wonyoung scoffed out a short laugh at the question, the singer rather fixated on her being a fan because she was going to let her stay the night. “Tickets to big bands are too expensive for me and there’s been a buzz about your band…You take what you can.” 

Y/n laughed at the reply, eyes crinkling as the grin stayed until it turned to a softer smile. She shook her head and reached into her pocket once more with her free hand, throwing the butt of the cigarette out the window. 

The speakers in the car played the album Paranoid by Black Sabbath, the CD case lying on the dashboard with a few other cases. Y/n took out the stolen MP3 from her pocket, not having money to buy a device that expensive she found a different way to get one. With that, she turned off the music and the blasting from the wired headphones stopped as she took them off. 

“I can’t deny that you guys have great songs and you, a great voice.” Wonyoung complimented as even if the band was just a try after hearing the buzz about them, they did catch her attention because it was just what she liked. A mix of grunge, alt, heavy metal and punk rock with lyrics sung raw and with emotion. 

She ashed the cigarette out the window while looking at the girl who reached into the back seat, blatantly, not minding that she was in a mini skirt and Wonyoung did not mind it either as her eyes beckoned at the exposed skin of her long legs and further, getting a glimpse of the black lace underwear.

Y/n let out a breath, Wonyoung’s eyes went back to the road when she sat back in the seat after shoving her headphones into her duffle bag. The car smelled of cigarettes and sweet vanilla, and there was a faint smell of strawberries as there was an old and aired-out car freshener hanging in the rearview mirror shaped like a strawberry with its colour drained—from how old it was. 

The dark-haired girl looked at the driver of the car as she rested her cheek against her fist, elbow resting by the window that let in cool air. 

“You have a quite soothing voice,” it was almost like a purr coming from Y/n, complimenting Wonyoung’s voice. It made a smile grace her lips as she glanced at the singer, flicking away her cigarette. 

“You’re getting ahead of yourself,” Wonyoung stated although there had already been a silent agreement between the two of them when they first looked at each other and Wonyoung agreed to let Y/n stay the night. 

There was no denying the mutual attraction that came from looks to music taste and demeanour. 

All Y/n did was shrug while Wonyoung sped through the almost empty street. “You did say you liked my voice and I thought you knew that we would share a bed tonight.” She leered out, pointing out the obvious as neither was going to let this opportunity slip. 

There was a hot girl dressed in grunge, driving Y/n to her place.

A hot lead singer was asking to crash at Wonyoung’s place.

Wonyoung sniffled, Y/n’s eyes catching how her pierced nose scrunched up before trailing further down at the nipples protruding through the thin black shirt. Her skin was catching goosebumps from the breeze let in through the windows. 

“It would be quite nice to hear a lead singer’s voice under different circumstances.” Wonyoung beckoned, welcoming to the idea the singer in question brought up. 

Y/n bit her lower lip and Wonyoung’s eyes landed on her once again, the two constantly glancing at each other. With each glance a heat grew in the cool air of the car, a tension thick enough for a knife not to be able to even cut through it. 

The sexual desires grew with lust hazing in the air, growing like a fog in the morning as Planet Caravan started to play. A fixated look as she trailed her eyes up the exposed stomach of the singer. The light pink butterfly navel jewellery with three dangling gems was just one of the things that caught Wonyoung’s attention.

“And to see the hearts.” She added, seeing the two heart shapes protruding through Y/n’s shirt. Y/n looked down at her chest, the two piercings with heart-shaped jewellery outline showing through the small tee. 

A sly grin came onto the frontwoman’s lips, tongue poking at her canine as her eyes attended to Wonyoung’s body. “Might make you a fan tonight.” It smugly left her lips and Wonyoung chuckled, turning the car and slowing down as she drove into the neighbourhood with fingers tapping against the wheel. 

The two were getting jittery and wanted to make it to the apartment as quickly as possible because their sexual desires and lust would suffocate them both soon enough. 

“What if the roles get reversed?” The witch questioned as she parked the car, stating the possibility of the vixen in her passenger seat becoming the fan tonight. 

The vixen in question let out a breath, questioning herself if she was in love with the woman who parked the car. It wasn’t love—the two of them were just horny and found each other hot in so many ways. 

“Then there’s gonna be trouble.” Y/n gave a heads-up, opening the door just like Wonyoung did as they both got out. Doors slammed closed as the lithe girl opened the backseat and quickly got her stuff. 

The door shut and the car got locked, the bag being slung over the almost sore shoulder once again. Y/n’s eyes looked around the empty neighbourhood as everyone seemed to be asleep at around 2:30 am. Her eyes landed on the two-story apartment building with an external staircase that they were heading towards. Everything was a luxury for the singer who did not have a place to call home yet after getting kicked out of every place. 

“Do you often let band members stay the night?” Y/n asked, looking up at Wonyoung who walked ahead of her on the stairs, catching a glimpse of her ass covered in sheer tights and fishnets. The shaking of the metal stairs resonated through the empty night, leaving an echo as their heavy boots collided with them. 

 “I’m no groupie…You were just convincing enough, hot too.” Wonyoung replied over her shoulder as she didn’t bring any band members home. This was the first one as no one in the other bands had stood out like the girl behind her who made the small stage her playground while delivering vocals with emotions and different techniques depending on the song. 

It felt almost weird for Wonyoung to hear the singer talk as her voice was contrasting to the one she sang with. She’d sing and vocal fry, but spoke in a tone that made it hard to believe she was the same person. It left her more than intrigued and needy for more. 

Y/n smiled at the reply and they reached the second floor and the first door right by the stairs. Wonyoung took out the keys to the door from the small purse she had and inserted the keys into the lethargic keyhole. The door jammed as she twisted the key and bumped it with her shoulder for it to budge open like she always had to open it. With that, she managed to push it open fully and stepped inside, grabbing hold of the wall to remove her boots.

“Where’s the bedroom?” The question left Y/n’s lips the second she stepped inside and closed the door after her. The cursed duffle bag fell to the wooden floor with a loud thud and Y/n somehow managed to pry her heavy boots off her feet, each one falling to the floor with a thud. 

The one-bedroom apartment was dark as the brunette hadn’t turned on any of the lights and instead grabbed the arm of the leather jacket. “Right this way, star.” Wonyoung’s tone was torrid as she pulled Y/n after her, walking through the open kitchen and living room. Guiding her the short distance from one door to another that she pushed open. 

The bedroom was merely lit up by the lamp posts and other passing lights outside that were gandering through the creaks in the blinds. 

Y/n shut the door with her foot and Wonyoung turned around, her eyes murky with lust as she looked at the girl. Her hands clutched onto the lapels of the leather jacket, pulling the frontwoman into her whose lips parted right away when they met Wonyoung’s. 

It was almost tacky how sloppy the kiss got as their slick tongues met—the two loved it. The singer's barbell was pulled at and brushed against Wonyoung’s teeth. Slender hands ran to the back of the witch and grabbed hold of her ass under the mini skirt, gripping the warm and soft flesh between fingers that threaded through the sheer tights and fishnets. 

Wonyoung pulled her closer, breathless moans falling from both girls as she stepped back, pulling Y/n along while tilting her head, her tongue toying with the hard barbell. 

The kiss tasted of vanilla, strawberries, and cigarettes, lip gloss mingling, making Y/n pull back and capture Wonyoung’s lower lip. She sucked on it, tongue dragging along her lips until Wonyoung’s legs hit the bed and Y/n’s hands came up to her small tee. She tugged it over her head, discarding it to the side before shoving Wonyoung to sit on the bed and hastily removing her leather jacket. 

The heat coursed their bodies, everything going south as it throbbed with need between their legs. Y/n’s hand threaded into dark waves as she tilted Wonyoung’s head up, capturing the plump strawberry-tasting lips, pushing the girl back until she had her lying down on the bed. 

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” That gruffly voice came out from the singer, close to the one she would sing with and Wonyoung’s chest heaved as Y/n’s wet lips ran down from her lips. Kissing down to her jaw almost heedlessly with how messy it was, panting hot air against her skin.

“I’ve left your last two shows all wet because of how hot you’re on stage,” Wonyoung admitted, lost in the moment when lips wetly trailed down to her chest. A gasp fell from her lips at the teeth grazing her hard nipples before getting engulfed in Y/n’s warm mouth. It was enough to make her hips buck at the throbbing between her legs, Y/n’s one hand roughly grabbed hold of her skirt, bodies almost flush against each other. 

“You sure you’re not a groupie?” Y/n humidly chuckled against Wonyoung’s chest before burying her face in the breasts, nipping and sucking at the ample flesh. Faint and needy moans fell from Wonyoung’s lips as she looked down at the band member with her hand in her hair, pushing Y/n further down. 

“Mhm…” Wonyoung breathlessly confirmed and Y/n dropped onto her knees between the girl’s legs on the hard and cold floor. “Never planned on actually fucking you.” Yet here she was, about to fuck with the vixen she only thought of fucking. 

She bit her lower lip, hips lifting off the edge of the bed where she was lying when Y/n hooked her fingers under the skirt and every other piece of clothing. The two were too eager to wait around, wanting nothing more than a taste of the Hellmouth they both were entering through for the night. 

Y/n yanked at the clothes, hearing something rip in the process as she pulled them off of Wonyoung’s legs before she dropped the tights and skirt onto the floor. The brunette was left naked on the bed. Her pussy dripping with need just from the rough and messy handling by the lead singer who kissed her warm thighs. 

Y/n grabbed hold of Wonyoung’s right leg who hooked it over her shoulder before slumping back down onto the bed. Her eyes were on the dark ceiling as her chest heaved before she closed her eyes and drowned in the kisses that were being scattered along her inner thighs. 

Y/n pushed Wonyoung’s other leg further apart, her eyes landing on her dripping cunt and her fingers eagerly came up to her puffy pink folds. The girl’s lips parted with a gasp at the cold fingers that ran through her lips, gathering the slickness and spreading it up to her clit. The small nudge on the bundle of nerves was enough to make her let out a vague whine with thighs tensing up. 

She coated her fingers in Wonyoung’s slickness, spreading her lips with them as she moved forward and kissed the fleshy mound, feeling how Wonyoung stifled her hips from bucking. The brunette's warmth was becoming a sopping mess, the slickness running down to the sheets as Y/n pulled away with her mouth and wetted her lips. Her eyes fell on the clit she revealed by spreading her open with two fingers. 

“Oh–I’m gonna make you fucking dizzy,” she muttered under her breath, lips attaching around the swollen and slick clit—followed by a sharp suckle and flicking of a skilled tongue.

It was enough for Wonyoung to moan, the action being so precipitous that her chest tightened at the gasp she let out, hand flying into the dark hair and fingers tangling in it as her back arched before she slumped back with her other hand clutching onto the sheets. 

Y/n savoured the taste on her tongue, massaging the clit with her tongue, Wonyoung continuously let out small whimpers and gasps as her hips rolled into the girl’s face unable to lay still at the pleasure running through every nerve in her body. Her blood running warmer and making her body heat up even more. 

Y/n’s fingers dug into the flesh of her thigh that rested over her shoulder and pulled her closer to the throbbing cunt. She moved her other hand away from the thigh she was holding onto to keep Wonyoung from closing her legs and moved it down. 

Among the sucking and flicking at her clit, Wonyoung’s stomach tightened in anticipation when she felt two fingers caressing her clenching hole. Y/n brushed her middle finger over it, the wetness letting her easily slip her finger into the warm and tight wetness. Her walls throbbed around her finger as she decided to push in a second one, both fingers getting sucked right in by the girl’s tightness.

“Y/n—” Wonyoung moaned, hand tugging onto her hair, making the latter moan against her heat, working her tongue faster on her clit. 

“Fuck.” She breathed, Y/n’s fingers pressing and caressing her g-spot in a way that was making her thighs spasm and the orgasm quickly build up. Her hips pushed more into Y/n’s face, her pussy squelching from how sopping she was, the warmth around the fingers inside her squeezing as her whole body slowly tensed up. The occasional brush of the barbell against her sensitive clit was making her light-headed and whiny.

“Oh fuck—” It hit Wonyoung so quick, her words fading as she let out a harsh gasp, eyebrows furrowing and mouth falling slack as she arched her back, the back of her head pressing into the mattress. Breathless whimpers and whines fell from her lips as her body convulsed at the orgasm that hit her, being enough to make her ascend for a second before falling back down to earth. 

Y/n slowed down, pulling out her fingers as she dipped her head to lap everything leaking out of her grasping hole. 

Wonyoung heaved for breath as her hot body relaxed with her heart pounding, enjoying the last of the slick muscle cleaning up the mess she was made into. Y/n hummed and pulled away, taking her fingers covered in the latter's juices into her mouth and cleaning them up too. 

Her leg came down from the shoulder and Y/n pulled back, grabbing the hem of her tee and pulling it over her head. The small piece of material got thrown to the side before she stood and Wonyoung sat up. 

The brunette’s grip was harsh as she grabbed hold of the meagre wrist and pulled the girl onto the bed. Y/n’s back hit the soft mattress as she pushed herself up with her head on one of the pillows. Her eyes barely being able to focus because of how uncomfortable the heat between her legs was as Wonyoung crawled over to her and settled herself between her legs. 

Her limber fingers ran along Y/n’s thighs as the witch bit her lower lip, looking at the latter’s chest with two pierced nipples, adorned by heart-shaped jewellery with light pink gems just like the ones in the navel one. Contrasting from the dark grunge clothes she’d dress in. 

“I’m gonna have you running back for more…” Wonyoung mumbled, her fingers hooking under the skirt and pulling it down Y/n’s slim and bruised legs, discarding the piece of underwear in the process too. 

“What do you need me running back for, Wony?” Y/n questioned as the girl on top leaned down, resting her arm beside Y/n’s head. Bodies pressed into each other, the gems of the piercing rough against Wonyoung’s nipples and she chuckled. 

Y/n caught the taller one's lower lip and sucked on it with her hands wrapping around her shoulders. “Free tickets—” She breathed out, kissing down the defined jawline before dipping her head and kissing under it. Her fingers sneakily ran along Y/n’s inner thighs, the wetness smeared and thighs tensing around her body. “And good sex.” She finished while humming when Y/n tugged at her ear with her teeth.

“Better make me feel as good as music does then.” A shaky breath followed Y/n’s words, the puff of air hitting Wonyoung’s ear and making her shiver—her fingers running through the wet folds. Wonyoung’s mouth trailed kisses all over the lead singer’s neck, leaving it wet while her fingers worked to gather the wetness to the bundle of nerves. 

Y/n’s hand grabbed hold of the dark hair, pulling the girl back up as their lips met. It was as messy as before, slick tongues pressing as they both tilted their heads to get more of each other. The whimper from Y/n was muffled by the mouth sucking on her tongue when Wonyoung circled her clit with her fingers. Softly she continued to circle it; teasing as the frontwoman’s hips continued to buck in need. 

She got what she needed and wanted as Wonyoung dipped her hand, swiftly pushing two of her fingers into the tight hole. She pulled away from Y/n, licking up the string of saliva between their lips as she watched the lead singer let out a whimpering moan that was light at the two fingers that started to move in her. 

Wonyoung worked her fingers, flicking her wrist as her palm met the slick and swollen clit, pressing and rubbing. The two long fingers engulfed in the snug pussy rubbed at the soft and spongy g-spot.

Y/n’s grip tightened in Wonyoung’s hair, hips rolling into her hand and the girl between her legs pushed herself up. Her eyes fell between their bodies, the sounds were lewd from the loud and very vocal vocalist and the slickness of her fingers dragging along the warm throbbing walls. 

“I’m not sure where you sound better, Y/n.” Wonyoung let out a satisfied hum and bit her lower lip. 

“Wony—” Y/n stopped and her chest heaved, the said girl stopping her movement for a split second as the heat on top of the singer disappeared together with the two fingers deep in her. 

Wonyoung pushed herself down and got down on her stomach. It was as if her mouth was watering, seemingly deprived of sex and she inserted her fingers back in. “Fuck that’s good.” Y/n hummed, Wonyoung licking up her slit before circling the clit, both of the girls rolling back their eyes—one in pleasure, the other at the addicting taste.

Her head tilted, flicking her tongue as she wrapped her lips around Y/n’s clit, fingers still driving inside the tight hole. Y/n’s back arched, hands tangling in Wonyoung’s hair as her hips moved into the warm mouth, the tongue slick and scalding against her cunt. 

“Shit—I’m gonna write a song about your mouth–oh fuck.” 

Wonyoung smiled at the words, doing her best to pleasure the lead singer with her mouth and fingers after getting an orgasm that made her feel like she ascended for a second. The slim thighs spasmed around her head and she reached her other hand up, cupping under the supple breast that fit right into her palm. Her fingers, toyed with the piercing and nipple as she worked her tongue harder against the clit between her lips. 

She could feel the walls tighten around her fingers, making her press down on the soft wall and continue the movement of her tongue. Fingers pinching and tugging at the hard nipple as Y/n let out whiny and light moans. The mess grew bigger on the sheets with each second, spit and slick covered her chin as her mouth worked sloppily on the girl’s cunt, making it so much more lewd.

Her thighs quivered at the warm tongue dragging and flicking over her clit. It made her head buzz at how deep she could feel Wonyoung’s fingers inside her heat unable to stop how she clenched around them with every movement. The slurping of the girl’s mouth was barely making it to Y/n as her ears grew muffled, not being able to think about anything but how good it felt.

Heat shot through her whole body as her legs tensed up around Wonyoung’s head, the orgasm running through every part of her body as Wonyoung only stopped once she was heaving under her just like she had done. She pulled her fingers out of the pulsating walls and licked everything up before pulling away, clearing her fingers with her tongue too while sitting back on her heels. 

“Song worthy?” She questioned with a sly smirk and Y/n hummed, pushing herself up and grabbing hold of Wonyoung’s wrist. “Totally, but this whole night is gonna be song-worthy.” She let the girl know, making her straddle her thigh, the wet heat pressing against the skin of it. Their lips met once again as she gripped Wonyoung’s hips, guiding her to roll them. 

masterlist

[n109hunter]

Snippet Sunday - "cat nap"

pairing: sylus x mc word count: 1,043 summary: Still settling into the comfort of this new relationship, a certain kitten seeks a nice warm spot to nap when a rain storm comes rolling in. tags/warnings: fluff, established relationship, early relationship, "wip" (see authors note), a/n: A wip of mine I started back at the start of October that, woefully, I kind of forgot where I was going with it. Well, I know where, but I forgot the specifics and it's making me smad. 😔 However! As it is right now, I think it's a fine, "fade-to-black" fluffy little one-shot. I intend to come back and finish it eventually, once I can herd those thoughts back, but for now I think it's good enough to share.

It was three in the afternoon in the N109 zone, which meant almost nothing at all under its perpetual darkness - except that Sylus was sleeping. 

Since they’d more or less ‘officially’ started dating, (and admittedly, before that too), she had gotten used to spending her free time around the Onychinus base - at least, as much as she could without raising too many suspicions. Maneuvering around each other's work and sleep schedules could get a little lonesome at times, but she did take a pleasant contentment in simply being near him. 

He’d said before he slept easier when she was around, and while it was perhaps a bit of a strange dynamic, she took pride in the thought she might offer him some peace of mind - that she could protect him when he was ‘at his most vulnerable’, as the twins had told her once.

…Lied, actually, but sentiments were sentiments. 

“Here comes the rain.” Kieran said with a tired sigh, looking out the window as he played his number card. 

Luke tsk'ed at the play, and put down an assist card. “Thought we’d get through the day without it.” 

From where she sat on the sofa across the room from them, she tilted her head back to glance at the window behind her. A few raindrops quietly began to pelt the reinforced, one-way glass, heralding the coming ‘will it or won’t it’ storm that had been hanging heavy over the N109 zone all day. She blinked slowly, eyes feeling slightly heavy.

She felt so at ease and content, it wasn’t that she was tired exactly, but curling up under some blankets just sounded so good. Sometimes she begrudgingly had to acknowledge maybe Sylus was right all along, maybe she was a kitten. One who wanted nothing more right now than to go crawl in a warm bed next to her favorite person for a little cat nap on a rainy afternoon. 

Dog earring her page she set her book down and climbed up from where she’d been sitting overlong, stretching her arms high above her head.

“I’m gonna go take a nap,” she said, making her way across the room, “don’t get carried away when you lose, Luke.”

“Hey! I’m still in the lead!” 

“Not anymore, you aren’t!” Kieran laughed, slapping down another card, soon followed by Luke’s frustrated groaning. 

Now, she didn’t particularly want to disturb Sylus’s sleep, but she didn’t think he’d mind if she just… crawled into bed with him, right? She would be oh-so-quiet, and felt like she could comfortably doze off with ease. 

Smiling to herself she recalled the multitude of times she’d snuck into this room before. Not terribly long ago, but how different those days had been. Back then she’d been appalled by him, now here she was eager to tuck herself against him and listen to the sound of his breathing and the distant rain as she fell asleep. 

Practically tip-toeing over to his bedside, she tried not to indulge herself in watching him sleep too much, lest he ‘sense eyes on him’ and wake abruptly. Augh but how couldn’t she? He was so impossibly handsome, and honestly pretty adorable when he was sleeping. The soft curl of his eyelashes against his cheeks, his slightly parted lips… No, no, she just needed to climb in and join him.

Though come to think of it… Just crawling into bed was quite possibly a risk, too, wasn’t it? 

Eh, she knew what she was getting into. Worst case scenario she’d be suspended in the air by his evol for a few seconds, and she was well accustomed to that by now. 

Steadying her breathing she gently lifted the covers and started inching her way onto the bed beneath them. And then stopped short, slowly looking up to see a pair of sleepy red eyes looking straight at her. Funny -and somehow comforting- how she was beginning to be able to simply sense the weight of his gaze when it was on her. 

Biting her lip briefly and feigning her best ‘oopsy’ expression, she lifted a finger to her mouth: “Shh.” and scooted closer. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” His voice was sleepy, words slurring slightly together, but there was no dissatisfaction in his tone, instead it was filled with warm amusement.

“Don’t wake up.” She told him, unable to restrain the big smile on her face as she started making herself comfy. “I wanna take a nap with you.”

‘Obedient’ was not a word she would ever use to describe Sylus, but nevertheless he… rather obediently stretched his arm out for her to lay her head on.

“Isn’t it a bit early for you to be sleeping?” He yawned, snaking his other arm around her waist and pulling her in closer to him. Her heart skipped a beat, and a shiver ran through her, but then she happily eased against him, letting her arm slide around him in turn.

“It’s a nap- shh, listen.” Curling her other arm up between them she tapped her finger against his mouth to shush him. He gave a small mumble in the back of his throat, but otherwise fell quiet. The sound of rain against his window filled in the silence, joined by an occasional rumble of distant thunder. 

“Mm, it’s raining.” He said matter-of-factly, as if unsure if there was some meaning behind her pointing it out. He brought his hand up to wrap around hers, thumb brushing over her outstretched finger to fold it into a fist as he kissed her knuckles. “I didn’t think you were scared of the thunder, kitten.”

She snorted and rolled her eyes, but her breath caught in her lungs at that impossibly sweet gesture. 

“I just felt… like the atmosphere was perfect to come take a nap with you.”

“The atmosphere will always be perfect for that no matter what.”

Laughing softly, she wiggled herself a little closer, knees bumping his. “Shh, go back to sleep, I didn’t come here to bother you.” 

“Mmm,” he hummed and closed his eyes again. “You couldn’t anyway.” Tilting his head down, his forehead softly pressed against hers, and one of his legs snaked over hers pulling it between his knees. “Besides, I’m not tired anymore.”

[simplyreveries]

Hiii!! Can I request headcanons for how the overblot crew holds you?? Btw i really loved reading your posts! You're such a good writer

holding you; overblot boys

TY LOVELY<3

riddle rosehearts

as mentioned before, riddle is usually the one held- he is a shameless little spoon haha. he prefers to be against your heart as he holds you tightly and lets out the longest sigh as if to let go of his stress and tenseness melt away just by being with you like this.

he doesn't necessarily ask to cuddle or anything, but you can tell when he's craving some of them from you. he just hadn't realized (and frankly still hasn't) how touch starved he is so once he's comfortable, he's hooked.

riddle can’t help but lean against you sometimes, usually when he’s having a hard time during the day as dorm leader and responsibilities, he tries ever so hard to keep up with. if you’re just sitting next to him talking to him or showing him something on your phone, you’ll notice him inching closer and closer to you until your arms are pressed together and leaning face his real close to yours. if you happen to point that out, he'll quickly move away all flustered.

leona kingscholar

he holds onto you all the time because you’ve become his own pillow when he’s wanting to take a nap. you’ll find yourself just deciding to spend the night at his dorm when too much time passes— not like you really can go anyway when he only holds you tighter whenever you shift.

leona is a perfect person for you if you’re naturally cold because he is a heater… he is always so warm when against you. I guess it’s good because his dorm can get chilly with the outside open to it, so you’ll only find yourself curling more against him anyway.

seriously though he like refuses to let you go unless you complain that you absolutely need to go or something. even then he's such a grump when you have to leave. especially when he's laying on your lap like the audacity?? agdjsjdk

if you’re shorter than him he’d do the thing where head yours your head or shoulders as an armrest because he’s such a jerk like that. he does it so nonchalantly too.

azul ashengrotto

undeniably clingy with you whether he wants to admit it or not. he is constantly drawn to you and your presence whenever he's around you. "i've missed you all day, pearl" he'll dramatically sigh and tell you woefully how tired and overworked he is as he puts his arms around your waist and lay his head against your shoulder burying his face into your neck.

azul prefers to be face to face when cuddling,, he likes to look at you. he loves it when you have easy access to cover his face with kisses and he can grab your hands and press his lips gently to them.

you’ll find him often putting his gloved hand around your waist and keep it on your side, he does it really without thinking. he’ll just be beside you and talking to you about something and find a way to keep a hand on you.

jamil viper

have you seen scarabia?? his room?? he's got a bunch of pillows and they're always so soft and so comfortable when he's holding you... though there are sometimes when you playfully hit him with them and he has no choice but to get you back as well. that probably was the first time you've seen him so lively.

he has a habit of holding you from behind when sleeping. like leona, he is naturally a warm person as well. he has your back to his chest and his head in your hair.. jamil is really shameless about it. he feels content in your presence and scent.

jamil falls asleep rather easily around you, its a bit funny if you're more so a night owl because he does try to stay awake around you as you talk and do whatever. as you sit up on the bed, he'll be lying beside you with his arms around you. but he can't help but feel his eyelids grow heavy and drifts to sleep.

vil schoenheit

vil is very gentle... idc what anyone says. whenever he's holding you close and cuddling, he loves to have his hand anywhere on your skin as he'd stroke your back, your arm, waist... wherever he feels like in the moment. it feels light and feathery, i just know his hands are incredibly soft too. he can't help but softly laugh whenever he sees you start to feel ticklish from it.

if you ask him to, he will hum songs for you, you get to hear his pretty voice. It’s definitely a special privilege you get by being his. you’ll get to hear your most favorite songs too; he’ll sigh and teasingly tell you you’re quite the demanding one when begging him to him your favorite songs and melodies.

he loves when he can smell the perfume/cologne just any fragrances on you. especially knowing its ones he's given and gifted to you. he enjoys the idea of you wearing something of his own like that.

idia shroud

he was so nervous to do anything even as simple and cute look that at first, even though he desperately wanted to. you’d have to initiate it first then he’d follow along and wrap his arms around you. Idia would shove his face and hide it somewhere on you, though you can feel his lips curve into a smile when it’s against your neck hehe.

idia usually always has some sort of show or movie on though, it makes it a lot less nerve wracking for him when you’ve got something like distracting. but also he totally loves just lazing around playing video games with you laying against him.

okay but once he is more comfortable be prepared for him because he definitely is pretty clingy and wants his hands on you a lot… he’ll be drained after some dorm leader meeting he was forced into participating in and he collapses onto the bed just wanting to be with you. you'll feel his cold hands snake around you and he'll snicker when you get so surprised.

malleus draconia

malleus is such a big sucker for affection from you. he doesn't even seem to care where he is or who's around him, he just sees you. he loves putting his arms around you from behind your back and hugging you. sometimes he'll slowly shift side to side in a sweet manner.

pleaseee he loves it when you absentmindedly play with his long hair. he’ll let you do whatever you want to it, he thinks it’s funny however you choose to do it. but adores it most when you're just combing your fingers through his hair. he'll close his eyes and have the most content smile on his face.

when malleus is holding you, most likely deeply asleep curled on him, his favorite thing to do is look at you... oh, so blissfully and trace your features on your face with his fingertips, lingering right on your lips. malleus has this energy around him where he'll end up feeling like the safest place you can be, ironic enough with the stigma other students hold around him. this man treats you like glass.

[jeun-bug]

*taps on glass* hello is anyone still there

god i missed making these so bad. i still haven’t finished the newest chapter btw im woefully behind 💔

my last (?) interim test is complete and now all that’s left is… well, everything else i still need to do!

i love you!! 🩷

[pseudowho]

Thinking about Takuma Ino, who becomes a father so young when you fall unexpectedly pregnant. Thinking about the fear in your eyes, the shaking hands going to hold each other's, the positive test clasped between them. The way Takuma reassures you; "it's okay, it's okay, I always wanted to be a dad...sure, not this soon-- but we'll be fine. Better than fine, we'll be great."

The way Takuma goes for a walk that night, after you've cried yourself to sleep, crouching down in an alleyway with his beanie'd head in his hands, wondering how he could possibly ever be a good father. Wanting to marry you, to do things 'right', but afraid you'd think he only wanted to marry you because of the pregnancy.

The way Takuma arrives on his mother's doorstep (the mother who raised him alone, young, single) in the dead of night, pale-faced. The way his mother holds him as he cries and apologises at the dining room table, his face in her robed chest. The way she cups his face, and stares into his eyes; "we can do this, together, the right way. You're a good boy. Now be a good man."

The way Takuma learns to be a father, from his mother, who was his whole world. The way Takuma works himself to the bone, squirrelling money away, booking in with estate agents to go and view your first home together in a way that makes your hormonal heart clench.

The way Takuma's head hits the pillow, weary after working all night, then comes straight up again as he hears you vomiting in the bathroom, kneeling behind you to stroke your hair back, holding you gently round the waist on the tiled floor; "attagirl...it'll be better soon, right? Toughest girl I know. Doin' such a great job."

The way Takuma takes up embroidery, buying cheap plain clothes for the baby, because he can't afford much, but adding small artistic touches of beauty; a frog with a toadstool hat, a little trailing succulent vine, a shooting star.

The way Takuma is bright and excited; there for every scan, every class, every milestone. The way Takuma puts on a brave face. The way Takuma hides in the staffroom at work, his head in his hands, creaking under the weight of responsibility. The way he feels a strong hand clasp his shoulder, a beige suit, a blue shirt, a leopard print tie at the corner of his eye; "I know you're going to say no...but I'd like to buy a gift. For both of you. For the baby."

The way Takuma feels so ashamed for accepting help; the way a crib, a beautiful buggy, a snug and safe car seat, all gradually arrive at your new home. The way he tries to insist on paying Nanami Kento back. Nanami naturally refuses, pretends to be inordinately interested in his newspaper.

The way Takuma can't help but buy the baby a few beanies. The way you retaliate by buying an outfit that looks just like Ino's. He is thrilled.

The way Takuma's embroidery has advanced so well, he makes four little Auspicious Beasts to hang from a mobile above the crib.

The way Takuma paints beautiful, geometric, zany black and white shapes on the wall in the baby's bedroom; "They only see black, white and red at first babe. Neat, right?"

The way Takuma is pale throughout your labour, his eyes feverish, your pain so much harder than any battle he's ever been to. The way his tears hit him in a huge whooshing breath, a head-holding groan of relief when his baby son is placed on your chest, wet and crying, a little angry clenched face. The way Takuma rests his cheek on his arm at the top of your bed, gazing down and sniffling as his son holds his finger.

The way Takuma takes you both home, proud, woefully in love, still wondering how he's ever going to grow up and be a man, without realising he's already so much more of a man than so many others in this world.

Thinking about young dad Takuma Ino.

[taliesin-the-bored]

Tag game: tag nine people you’d like to know better.

Tagged by: @oneshoulderangel (Thank you for tagging me!)

Last song: At the moment, I have "Losing Your Memory" by Alan Star stuck in my head, which I suppose makes it my current song, not my last song. Hm. I get songs stuck in my head very easily, but the last one I had there for a significant amount of time was a mashup of different language versions of "Les Rois du Monde" for about a week. "Lehetsz Király", the Magyar version, is probably my favorite of them. It's worth a listen.

Currently watching: Normally, the answer would be "random mostly terrible old movies/shows" or "nothing much", but I currently have a hyperfixation on the musical Roméo et Juliette and have been watching it in multiple languages. (Thus, the song).

Three ships: This is hard. Maybe as a result of being on the ace and aro spectrums, I'm more likely to care about which characters are interacting than whether it's romantic or platonic. Here goes:

Kedivere/Bedikay. It can be romantic, platonic, or queerplatonic, but whichever way, I'm here for it. I probably spend too much time thinking about how in Cullwch and Olwen, when Cai gets mad at Arthur and marches out, Bedwyr stays behind, keeps acting like nothing's happened, and isn't the one to avenge Cai's death. The feeling of betrayal on both sides has a lot of unexplored potential. And the version where Bedivere dies and Kay fights to bring his body back safely while mortally wounded himself... And the version where Bedivere survives Camlann and Kay isn't said to fight in it, so they might be left together after their world has fallen apart...

Platonically or queerplatonically, Galahad and the Grail Heroine. I really like the tragic Grail Quest friendships, but I like theirs most, maybe because there's something weird and otherworldly about them both. I like it when characters are strange and endearing and doomed by the narrative.

Ever since reading John Matthews' retelling, which I read before the original, I've had a soft spot for Caradoc and Guinier. The Story of Caradoc is very disturbing, and I have some major qualms with Caradoc over a detail Matthews cut out, but all the same, there's a reason these two have the best track record with magical fidelity tests. Each of them would go to the ends of the earth for the other, and together, they're stronger than any curse.

Favorite Color: Blue, particularly royal blue and some teals.

Currently consuming: Black licorice with chocolate.

First ship: This is a hard one, since through elementary and most of middle school, I tended to go along with whatever I thought the author's intentions were and was more likely to unship something. The first non-endgame ship I got invested in was Sonya/Nikolai in War and Peace. I didn't like Nikolai, but Sonya did, and she was my favorite character, so I wanted her to be happy. The first non-canon couple I thought was meant to be together was also in War and Peace: Marya Bolkonskaya and Julie Karagina. My eighth grade self did not think their letters could be interpreted platonically. I still don't.

Last movie: If the musical doesn't count, the last movie I watched was Quest for Camelot, which was awful. Though not Robot Monster-level bad, Robot Monster has an elegance to its simplicity which Quest for Camelot lacks.

Currently working on: Various fics, most of them Arthuriana or CotRK-related (I am woefully behind on the Badfic Bingo), and (theoretically) an epic-style poem, though I haven't gotten much of it written for quite a while now.

Tagging: @gawrkin, @emperorcandy, @wildbasil, @gorewound, @knightsofsomethingorother, @ladyminaofcamelot, @tasosotaso, @amashelle, @gingersnaptaff (I have no idea who's been tagged so far, apart from the people on @oneshoulderangel's post, so I apologize for any multi-tags)

[not-neverland06]

How About a Nuke?

Part VII / Part VIII / Part IX

Series Masterlist

The ghoul x fem!reader A/N: PLEASE READ, this will be one of my darker chapters. I’m really sick right now, I have a bad fever, and when I’m sick I tend to write darker things. I’m not sure why, just keep that in mind while you read. Summary: You wake up alone surrounded by people with strange smiles and empty gazes. You’ve been left behind and you don’t know if you’ll be able to make it out of the compound alive.

You shift on the thin fabric of the cot and rub at your eyes. They’re crusted over with evidence that you’ve been sleeping for a lot longer than you meant to. You shoot up in the bed, panic flaring in you, and look around the room. He isn’t here, neither is his bag. The chair he’d been sitting in is still at the side of your bed, but no other evidence of him having been here. 

You throw your legs over the side of the cot and rip the IV out of your arm. You press your thumb down over the bubble of blood and walk towards the doorway of the room. The lights are out in the compound. You can tell from the window in the hall that it's night now, dim candles are lit along the hallway but there’s no other light. 

“Cooper?” You whisper, afraid to wake whoever lives on this floor. You look down each end of the hallway but you don’t see his silhouette or hear his spurs coming towards you. You can feel yourself starting to freak out the longer you stand alone in the dark hallway. 

With only a thin gown on and no weapons to protect yourself, you duck back in the room and lock the door. You’re sure there’s a reasonable explanation for where he is. He promised he would be here when you woke up. Maybe they’d just given him a different room. 

Though, you’re still frightened, you let yourself fall back onto the cot. You’re still exhausted, despite how much sleep you’ve already gotten. This is the first time in a while that you’re clean, not sleeping under the stars, and you don’t have to worry about radroaches gnawing on you. You don’t have enough adrenaline to keep you upright and find yourself slipping back into a dreamless sleep. 

The doorknob rattles and you jump out of bed. Without much thought you rip the door open, assuming Cooper would be on the other side. Instead a woman with bright red hair and an eerie smile looms over you. She’s startling tall, taller than anyone you’d encountered so far in the Wastelands. 

You stumble back as she advances, two armed men flocking her. “Where’s Cooper?” You demand, eyes darting around to try and find something you can use against her. You’re woefully unarmed in the room. Besides throwing a chair at her you can’t find anything to defend yourself with. 

“Who?” She asks, moving to take a seat in the chair he’d been occupying. You keep yourself backed in the corner of the room. Your eyes dart between her and her men but they seem completely at ease, the pistols on their hips going ignored. 

You glare at her, “You know who. The man I came here with.”

“Oh,” she laughed, the sound made your hair stand on end. There was nothing outwardly wrong with this woman, nothing you could point out anyway. Maybe it was the unusual length of her smile, or the lack of anything real behind her eyes, but you felt deeply uncomfortable around her. “The ghoul,” the word rolled off her tongue with a clear distaste. She sighed and shook her head, standing back up. 

She turned towards the door and looked back at you. “Join me.” It clearly wasn’t a question, not with the way her guards grabbed you by the arms and shoved you forward. You stumbled, bare feet tripping on the uneven tiled floors. 

She made her way down the hall, not once looking back to make sure you followed. It was clearly assumed that you would just obey. Despite how much you didn’t want to, you figured you would have a better chance of living through the next hour if you didn’t test the men with guns. 

You kept one arm around your abdomen, the raw wound aching. It wasn’t burning or itching like yesterday, but your skin was so sensitive it felt as though your stomach might fall through the stitches. “Lights,” she started, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin at the abrupt noise. Your eyes kept darting around the hallway, like someone was going to jump you any second. 

“Running water,” she continued, “agriculture. We have a steady supply of Radaway, meds, food. We are very fortunate here at the compound.”

“I’m sure,” you muttered. You passed by a room and she came to a stop. You glanced through the window of the room, little kids surrounded by pregnant women stared up at a man teaching them something on a chalkboard. You moved a little closer and frowned when you saw the diagram of a man and woman’s anatomy on the board. 

These kids were barely walking and they were already learning about the birds and bees?

You glanced up at the giant woman and shuddered, she had a predatory look on her face while she looked at the babies. What backwards hellhole did Cooper drag you into?

“We’re much luckier than other surface dwellers, our children no longer have to worry about fighting to survive.” A woman rolled past you in a rusted wheelchair, her belly practically bursting through her white gown, three men flocked her, their eyes straying towards you. You glanced from her and back to the window of the room. 

Was every woman here pregnant?

Feeling like a rat trapped in a cage you looked up at the red haired woman with trepidation. “Where’s Cooper?”

She smiled, the corners of her lips stretching too far across her cheeks to look real. “You no longer need to concern yourself with him. Your keeper has given you to the compound.” She kept talking but you couldn’t hear anything past the high pitched ringing in your ears. 

The room seemed to spin and you found yourself leaning on the wall for support. 

Cooper left you. 

A heavy hand landed on your shoulder and you flinched. You fought the burning feeling building behind your eyes and glared up at the woman. “We’ll finish the tour later. You seem to still be feeling unwell.” She looked to the men behind her and nodded, “Take her back.”

You didn’t get a chance to argue before they’d looped their arms through yours and were dragging you back down the hallway. They didn’t throw you in the room like you’d expected. If anything they seemed to be treating you gently. 

They laid you in the cot, propping you against the pillows and leaving without another word. You sat there stunned for a long time. You stared up at the cracked ceiling, surprised you weren’t freaking out more. Maybe it was shock, or whatever drugs they’d given you were keeping you numb. 

The most likely reason, though, was that deep down you’d never fully let yourself trust Cooper. That was what he had been drilling in your head this whole damn time. No one was to be trusted, not even him. 

You couldn’t be mad at him because it was your own damn fault for getting stabbed. You should have just let it get him, would have saved you a whole heap of problems. You throw the blankets off and get up. 

You’re not just gonna sit here and wallow the whole time. You got yourself stuck here, you’d get yourself out. You approach the door, fully expecting them to have locked you inside, but it pulls open without a problem. They must really not think you’re a threat. Not like you could blame them, you’d been half dead when you were dragged here. 

You creep down the hallway, going the opposite way the woman had been leading you this time. You round the corner, slamming into a little girl and and a man. You jump back, heart in your throat, but they don’t do anything except give you a smile and continue on. 

You suppose there’s nothing to suspect about you. You’re dressed like everyone here, in a gauzy white nightgown that goes to your ankles. You don’t have any weapons on you. If you act natural, you’re sure you can just blend in. 

You pass by another windowed room and risk a peek. You immediately wish you hadn’t. The woman on the wheelchair from earlier is squatting on the floor, holding onto the arms of a man. Her face is red and her hair is plastered to her head. She lets out a loud groan and another man removes his arms from under her gown, something small and wrinkly in his hands. 

He carries the baby to a table, weighing it, cleaning its face off and then hands it to her. You turn away, debating whether or not you should keep watching or just move on. This is incredibly intimate, a mother holding her newborn for the first time. But something about this whole place is off, there’s a deep feeling of instinctual fear in your gut that is leaving you on edge. 

You can make out muffled conversation from the room and peer back in. She smiles at the man holding her and he nods. She leans down and presses a long kiss to her baby’s forehead. The man who’d been observing this whole ordeal with a blank face steps up. He presses a pillow to the side of her head and then a gun. You stumble away from the window just as he pulls the trigger. 

The sound is muffled by the pillow, but the baby still cries as its mother goes limp. One of the men catches her body before she can fall, passing the baby off. One of them leaves with the kid, the other two collect her body and carry her out behind him. You make a run for it before they can spot you, the image of her blood spraying across the floor permanently burned into your brain. 

You don’t even bother trying to come up with a reasonable excuse for what you just saw. There isn’t one, there’s nothing that could explain what you just witnessed away. And Cooper had given you to these people. 

You could feel the rage building in you now. 

He stared down at the fire, the only sounds were the distant noises of bugs and the crackling of the burning logs. He felt odd, unsure of how to put it. It was quiet, despite the noises of the forest, everything seemed still to him. 

He glanced across the fire, expecting to see her there, surprised to find himself a little upset when she wasn’t. It’s not like he could be blamed for missing the company. Being on his own for over two hundred years was hard enough. Being on his own after having her around seemed worse somehow. 

Loneliness was easier when you forgot what you were missing. 

He shifted around but no matter how he moved he couldn’t get comfortable. The discomfort wasn’t something physical, it was a restless feeling brewing under his skin. Poking and prodding him until it couldn’t be ignored. 

Leaving her had felt like a smart choice. It seemed like the right thing to do. The compound should be safe enough. Then again, all he really knew about it was that it was only slightly more civilized than the rest of the Wastelands. 

He sighed and leaned back against the old wreckage he had propped himself against. He wouldn’t have shelter tonight, it was rare to find any that wasn't overrun by radroaches out in the sands anyway. With the light from the fire he couldn’t see much. But he could make out the old billboard across from him. 

It was the one she’d always hated and he loved. She was in that skimpy astronaut suit riding a rocket with a Nuka-Cola in her hand. He’s constantly bombarded by his Vault Boy posters. Seeing her shouldn’t bother him. It’s not like it’s the first time he’s ever seen one of her ads out here, anyway. 

But it hurts him in a way it hadn’t before. Now he knew that she’d never left him, that she’d been screwed by the same company that ruined his life. He sighed and ran a hand over his rough cheeks. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he shouldn’t be considering this. 

He should just leave it be, leave her be. But he can’t. Once he’s got his teeth dug into something, it’s nearly impossible to let it go. 

You should have been paying better attention to where you were running, but all you could see was that woman’s lifeless body clutching her crying baby to her chest. You stumbled through a door, racing down the stairs until you were sure you were at the bottom floor. 

You burst through the door, wincing at the bright sunlight that shone down on you. You heard the sound of laughter and children’s voices as they screamed and ran past you. You jumped out of their way, watching as they chased each other. 

You glanced around, confused and disoriented, trying to figure out where you were. It must’ve been the back of the compound, beyond the different crops and gardens you couldn’t see anything but a radiated ocean. It was the same odd blue the lake Cooper had taken you to had been. 

Men in dirtied clothes were bent over different crops and vegetables, digging around in them and pulling out ripe foods. Some older children assisted them, holding tools of their own or carrying baskets of different crops. But you didn’t see any women among them. 

“Lost?” You whirled around on the man behind you, he raised his hands up with a startled expression on his face. “Sorry, sorry, I thought you heard me walk up.”

“Who are you?”

He held out his hand, an odd smile on his face. Everyone here had the same smile, nearly genuine but lacking just enough life to be. You looked at his hand and then back at him, making no move to take it. He was undeterred and just reached forward, yanking your hand into his and crushing your palm in too firm a grip. “Ben, good to meet you, Sylvie told me to come find you.” He seems oddly familiar, but you can’t place why.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out Sylvie was the red head who’d been showing you around earlier. With one glance at the gun on his hip you figured this was another demand. You peered over your shoulder at the children again, surprised to find them already staring at you. The boys grinned but the girls didn’t even blink as Ben showed you back through the door. 

You took in a shaking breath and ascended the stairs once more, feeling your freedom slipping further away from you. Ben kept a tight grip on your wrist the whole way up. ”I’m excited to get to know you.”

You shot him a distrusting look and tried, unsuccessfully, to once more get him to release you. “Why would we be doing that?” 

He stopped and you were forced to follow. Your eyes bounced around the empty hallway, feeling incredibly on edge with the way he invaded your space. He had the eerie smile again, eyes roaming slowly up and down your form. “You are to be my breeding partner after all.”

What. The. Fuck. 

“Ben!”

You didn’t think you’d be happy to see Sylvie again, but right now you were ridiculously grateful for her interference. He backs off and it’s only then you feel like you can breathe again. You rip your wrist out of his grasp, rubbing away the bruise that bloomed under his hand. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you when you walk away and it takes everything in you not to turn around for another glance at him. 

Sylvie holds a door open for you at the end of the hall and you duck inside, trying to calm your racing heart after that interaction. “I apologize for Ben, he’s a bit overeager. He lost his partner this morning and I did promise him you,” she laughs and steps inside.

It’s only as she passes by you that the light goes on in your head. He’d been one of the men in the room with the mother. He’d been holding her. 

Your fists dig into the white fabric of your gown and you have to swallow the bile building in your throat down. Your hands are shaking horribly and your eyes go fuzzy. Lack of any real food is starting to catch up with you as your adrenaline spikes and plummets again. 

You’re not sure your heart can take much more of living in the Wastelands. 

Sylvie sits down at a long table, plates piled with food enough for ten people before her. But there are only two chairs, one for her, and you assume the other is for you. “Please,” she motions to the chair across from her, “sit.” Her tone brokers no negotiation and you find yourself walking on shaking legs to the other chair. 

You throw yourself down in it, staring blankly down at the plate. “What happened to his partner?” You whisper, unable to bring yourself to speak any louder. 

“It is the cycle of life here at our compound.” You glance up at her in astonishment but she’s not paying attention, just digging into her food. “Our goal is to repopulate the earth. Bring back society as it should be.”

“And how should it be?” You interrupt, fully disgusted by the people surrounding you now. “Because what I saw was sickening. You slaughtered her like she was an animal.”

Sylvie’s fork slams against the table and you jump in surprise. “That’s what she was, is.” She sighs and shakes her head, “It’s hard for an outsider to understand.”

“Then explain,” you order, voice sharp. You’re not going to play games with this woman. You want answers and you want them now. But more importantly you want to know why he would leave you here. How could he?

“Our mission, requires sacrifice. When they are ready, the women here are assigned a breeding partner. They give birth until they can’t and then…” That sickening grin was back and you found yourself shrinking back into your chair. “They provide for us in other ways. Organ harvesting is a very lucrative trade, did you know?” You shake your head mutely. “It’s what provides us with the medicine that saved your life last night.”

“The men? Does anything happen to them?”

She shrugs, digging into her meal once more. “They can reproduce much longer than women can. And when they can’t we find use for them in the fields. When they die, their body is used keep our agriculture thriving.” The woman you watched die this morning couldn’t have been older than thirty. 

And the man guarding Sylvie could have been the same age as your father. 

Cooper had sold you to be bred and then harvested. Like you were cattle. You glanced up at the guards but they weren’t looking at you. Why would they? Women clearly weren’t more than animals here. You could never be a threat. 

You slipped the knife off the table and into your sleeve. “And the women are okay with this?”

She looked at you like you were crazy for wondering such a thing. “Of course, they know they’re serving a higher purpose than themselves.” You scoffed in disbelief. Not only was this a human farm where you were harvested like a cow, you found yourself in the middle of some fucked up new world cult. 

“Did-” your voice cracks and you find the words difficult to get out. “Did Cooper know about this?”

“He would have had to.” She puts her fork down and digs through her pockets. She throws the dog tags he’d been carrying around at you. You catch them, noticing the back of the chain looked oddly melted. “The bounty he brought me, it was one of our old trading partners. Occasionally, we do business with the Brotherhood. One of their squires, he took a liking to one of our girls. She was sickly, too sickly to bring any more children to term. The day she was meant to be harvested he took her and they ran.”

She sighed and shook her head, a dark expression coming over her face. “I don’t take kindly to thieves. I wanted the tags as proof of his death.”

You didn’t know who the Brotherhood was, but you figured it was just another cult you didn’t want to know about. You placed the tags back on the table and stared down at your plate. “Couldn’t they have just stolen the tags and lied?”

She laughed and shook her head. “When his knight branded him, there was an accident. You couldn’t get those tags without taking his head off first.”

“And the girl?”

She looked up at you, frowning, “What about her?”

“Is she dead?” You knew Cooper was a bad man, but the thought of him shooting some defenseless girl made you sick to your stomach. Who could blame her for wanting to get out of this place?

Sylvie shrugged, “I don’t know. I’m sure without her little savior she’ll die eventually. She wasn’t made for Wasteland life.” Sylvie wiped her mouth and stood up. She rounded the table, coming to stand behind you, her rough palm circled around your nape and you whimpered at the tight grip. “See, there are things a lot worse than death waiting for you out there, little lamb. So, I suggest you learn your place here and be grateful for the few good years you’ll have left.”

She releases you with a shove and your hand shoots out to brace yourself against the edge of the table. She stalks towards the door, “You’ll join Ben tomorrow night. You have one night to make your peace with your place here.” The door slams shut and you finally feel the tears come.

He hears the coughing before he sees the shack. The smell of a rotting corpse overwhelms him and he figures the girl never bothered to move the body. How she’s lasted this long with the smell and gasses, he has no idea. But she was sick to begin with, he’s sure she won’t be lasting much longer. 

He throws the rickety wooden door open and steps over the bloated corpse of the squire he’d collected his bounty from. Sure enough, as he’d been expecting, the girl is curled up in the corner of the shed. She’s skin and bones at this point, her coughing causing her whole body to shake with painful tremors. 

She peers out from between her arms and levels him with a glare. Her eyes are bloodshot, the whites of them now yellow. “You.”

He leans against the table in the middle of the room and nods, “Me.”

“What,” she coughs again and his face screws up at the blood that dribbles from her lips. “What do you want now? Here to finish the job?”

He shakes his head, pulling out a Stimpak and some ration bars. She eyes the supplies hungrily, a rabid desperation on her frail face. She reaches for them but he places them just out of her reach, a cruel look on his face. “Need some answers.”

“About what?”

“The place your little boyfriend stole you from. My friend’s there, I need to know why exactly you left.”

She laughs, the sound cruel and costing. She wipes more blood from her mouth, a vicious grin on her lips. “Sorry, but your friend is fucked.” She pauses and the shakes her head, “Or she’s getting fucked at least. Over. And over. And over again. They certainly don’t waste any time there.”

She reaches for a bar again but he glares and pulls them back. She sighs and slumps against the wall. “What,” he snaps, “are you talking about?”

“They harvest us. The chickens are treated better than we are. They used us to make their little soldiers, until we can’t push them out anymore. And then they harvest us for parts. My little brother was five when he was taken, he was sick like me. He just didn’t hide it as well. They make sure you’re useful to them, dead or alive.” 

He doesn’t waste anymore time with her. He tosses the supplies at her and runs back out of the shed. Maybe, maybe, he’d had some suspicions about them being less than kind. But it was the Wastelands, no one here was truly good. 

He never would have thought it was going to be this bad. He never would have left her there if he thought something like this would happen. 

That’s what that woman had been talking about when she said compensation. He was fucking selling her, like a prize pig. He had wasted too much time traveling here for the confirmation. He should have just followed his gut instinct and gone back. But he was too fucking stubborn to let himself. 

He didn’t want to think that he was panicking. He had at one point considered killing her himself. Hell, he’d shot the girl. Why would it bother him so much if someone else did it?

He’d lost too much. He wasn’t entirely sure he could lose her again.

Your palm is wrapped around the handle of the knife you’d taken when the door creaks open. You tense up but otherwise remain still. The sound of muddy boots squelches across the tiles. You stay hidden under the covers. The moonlight from the window is just bright enough to cast a shadow over whoever is sneaking into your room. 

You smell him before you feel him. The smell of earth and vegetables suffocating you just as rough hands wrap around your arm. “Hey-”

You shoot up, uncurling like a viper and slamming your hand into his throat before he can even try to shout. Ben’s eyes flare wide, terror consuming them before you twist the knife and rip it out. Arterial blood sprays across your face and he slumps to the floor, limp. 

You rush to close the door and turn back to him. He’s a big man, tall and buff with muscle, you strip off his work shirt and pants, figuring they’ll just have to work for now. You take his boots and stuff his socks into the tips so they’ll fit better. You grasp the pistol off his waist and tuck it into your belt. 

You go through all the drawers and cabinets of the room. You take any supplies you can find and toss them in a pillow case before unlocking the door and slipping back into the hallway. You don’t hear the telltale sounds of guards patrolling and figure you should be able to slip out through the stairs. 

You’re almost down the steps when you stop. Something in you won’t let you go any farther. Your mind jumps to Sylvie. How casually she’d discussed the slaughter of women over her lunch. How quick she was to turn you into cattle rather than view you as something human. 

That familiar rage you used to feel builds up in you. Your entire adult life you’d fought to be viewed as a real person. As someone who deserved the same care and respect everyone else got. And she, a woman, was so quick to tear that away from you. To perpetuate further suffering as long as she got to profit off of it. 

You back out of the stairwell and head down the hallway. You blindly walk the path you’d walked earlier to her quarters. You see that mother in your head, clutching her baby as she drew her last breath. And she’d known it was coming. Every girl here knew what was coming.

Little boys got to smile and laugh and play and the girls grew up knowing what their fate was going to be. And they were content with it. 

Two guards are stationed outside of Sylvie’s door. You shoot them both. You know the sounds will alert others. You don’t have much time left. You burst through the door of her room. Her lamp is on and she’s already waiting for you. Her gun is on her lap, and she’s smiling at you as you walk in. “You can still turn around-”

“I know my place,” you interrupt and she frowns. “I’m not letting pricks like you, who think they get a gun and rule the world, make decisions for me anymore.” She reaches for the revolver on her lap but you’re pulling the trigger faster. The bullet tears through her throat and she lurches forward. Her hands claw desperately at her neck, blood pouring between her fingers. 

You run forward, pulling the revolver from her lap and tuck it into the waistband of your pants. You make your way out the door and towards the stairs again. You can hear booted footsteps rushing towards you, nearly at the doorway just as you slam it closed. 

You manage to fly down one flight of stairs before the door’s crashing open and slamming into the wall. Shouts echo through the stairwell. Orders to shoot you are issued but you’re barreling through the gate of the compound before they can grab you. 

You look behind you, watching as all the guards search the grounds for you and you laugh. You nearly can’t believe it. That you made it out, that you finally stood up for yourself. For a moment in there you’d almost considered giving in and just letting it happen. 

Living in the Wastelands was hard, giving in would be so easy. Letting someone just make the decisions for you would be easy. But the base instinct of survival is a tough opponent to beat. You couldn’t let yourself give up and give in to another person who thought humans were just another form of compensation. 

You only have one last stop to make. 

He’d had to camp for the night before he could make it back to the compound. He hadn’t wanted to stop but he figured they’d paid him so well that they weren’t planning on just getting rid of her the first night. He’d go by tomorrow and take her back. How well that went was up to them. 

He stared into the fire and sighed. He felt like a fucking fool leaving her there. He should know better. But he’d been so desperate to just get rid of her it was easy to ignore all the signs telling him not to. He couldn’t handle her anymore. Couldn’t handle all the old emotions she drudged up around him. 

He couldn’t be what she wanted, what she needed. Deep down, maybe, the old Cooper was still in there. But he wasn’t willing to bring him back. Not for her, not for anybody. That didn’t mean he was just going to let her die, though.

He was squatted by the dying fire, eating some jerky, when he heard someone approaching. He didn’t get a chance to turn around before a shot was going off and his hat was flying off his head. It lands in the sand behind him and he turns, almost surprised to find her. 

She’s got a revolver in her hand, dried specks of blood on her cheeks. “You better pray you didn’t just put a hole in my hat, sweetheart.” She narrows her eyes at him and lowers the gun.

“You sold me.”

He stands up and raises his hands in a placating motion. She’s trigger happy, but he knows she isn’t gonna shoot him. If she was, she would have done it a long time ago. “In my defense, darling, I didn’t know they were a bunch of sickos.”

She scoffs, eyes wide with disbelief. “Really? So they didn’t pay you for me?”

He sucks on his teeth and frowns, “Well-”

“Just shut up!” She stares at him in astonishment, shaking her head and muttering something to herself. His eyes stay on the revolver in her hands as she waves it around wildly, trying to figure out the best way to get her to put it down. 

“I was on my way back for you, darling.”

She whirls around, the gun up and pointing at him again. “Yeah, like I’ll believe anything you’ll say to me right now.” She backs away from him and her fists clench around something dangling from her left hand. He finally notices the tags she’s holding now. The same one’s he’d given Sylvie. 

Just what the hell had she done to get out of there? He’s almost impressed by her sheer stubbornness to stay alive. 

“The girl, the one who was with your bounty, what happened to her?”

He shook his head, “Nothing. I left her where she was.” Her thumbs pulls the hammer of the revolver back and he laughs. He can’t stop himself from antagonizing her, taking a sick sort of satisfaction from the fact that he could push her as much as he wanted and she still wouldn’t pull the trigger. 

“She reminded me of you. Battered and bruised, used up and left behind. She couldn’t protect herself, couldn’t even drag her boyfriend’s corpse out of their little hut.”

Her eyes get glossy and he takes in the sight with a grin. She always had been pretty when she cried. “You are a bad person. And I knew that and still tried to find something good in you. But you are rotten to your core, there is nothing human left in you.”

His mouth settles into a firm line and he finds himself a little pissed off. “Now, darling-”

He doesn’t see it coming. Doesn’t even realize what’s happened until he’s flying back and hitting the ground. He doesn’t feel any pain, his adrenaline pumping so much all he can feel is the vibrations. The impact of the bullet carving it’s way through his chest as he lay there on the ground. 

She walks over to him, eyes empty as she stands over him and watches the blood pool out. “We’re done, Cooper.”

She leaves him on the ground, not looking back as he presses his hand to his wound in shock. He didn’t think she had it in her. 

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

[artiststarme]

After the events of Spring Break and long before either of them even consider dating, Steve and Eddie become friends. Eddie shares his weed and buys them alcohol, Steve provides food and a place for Wayne and Eddie to crash for awhile, and Robin kind of freeloads on everything (although she considers her witty one-liners and company payment enough). Even still though, it takes more than just friendship to force Steve to join a DnD campaign. 

With the departure of Grant, Jeff, and Gareth from the Hellfire club, the Party is woefully short on manpower. Will joins and Eleven tries too but even with the addition of their two characters, the Party isn’t strong enough to survive Eddie’s devious campaigns. So they target Steve. Between Eddie’s pleading puppy dog eyes and the endless pestering of the kids, Steve joins. Initially, he’s hesitant. He thinks he’s only going to play a handful of games to get the kids back on their feet before parting with them. But then he discovers that he’s good at it. He discovers that he enjoys flirting with the NPCs and annoying the shit out of his fellow characters. He likes saving the kids and watching their backs in fights all too reminiscent of the Upside Down. It makes him feel useful, needed, wanted. 

Most of all though, he likes seeing how his words affect Eddie. He starts looking forward to  seeing the blank look on Eddie’s face when he does something he’s not expecting, forcing Eddie to dive into the very depths of his imagination. Steve likes seeing Eddie’s lips quirk into a smirk when his flirts land their mark. He imagines kissing the quirk away until those very same lips are bruised red with burst capillaries. He wants to see Eddie’s smile directed at him for every moment of everyday, not just from behind the Dungeon Master’s partition or on a dinner date with Robin. Steve wants to hear Eddie’s husky voice explain his plans for DnD while they cuddle in bed hiding from the cold Indiana winter (although he would never admit something so nerdy to anyone). His thoughts and Eddie’s reactions to his admittedly mediocre flirting only makes Steve like playing DnD with him more. 

He especially enjoys the day when all the flirting finally leads Eddie to corner him once the kids leave to ask him out on a proper date (or in their case, Cheetos and strawberry milkshakes on the roof of Eddie’s van while watching snowflakes fall from frozen clouds). In hindsight, it only made him wish he’d joined the nerdy dragon club sooner. Maybe then he could’ve been kissing Eddie Munson for years by then. Steve guesses he’d just have to keep Eddie around for years to come.

[virune]

If you're still accepting prompts, then I've got one for the Puppet AU:

Shadow, despite claiming he was indestructible, finally gets a tear in his fabric, and it's on the back of his shoulder, which he can't reach.

Sonic then offers to help him [You can decide how it goes].

Ever since Shadow had been brought into the studio, Sonic couldn't take his eyes off him.

Sometimes it got distracting. He was grateful that he didn't really have to do anything while a human was controlling him, so he could zone out and think about how pretty the other puppet was. Deep, rumbling voice, piercing red eyes, glossy, velvety fur...

Sonic was infatuated.

But then when the humans left and the puppets could finally be themselves, Shadow would vanish. Every time. Sonic would try to catch him after their show, but Shadow always separated himself from the group to disappear somewhere. Sonic found himself never quite being able to figure out where Shadow was going, and why he was so adamant about being alone.

On this day, however, the routine seemed to change.

When the last human left the studio for the weekend, the puppets rose to their feet as usual. Sonic praised Tails for his great performance in the Tornado before turning to watch Shadow leave, as he always did.

But he hadn't.

Shadow's lingering presence caught Sonic off-guard, but he didn't want to squander this opportunity to finally talk to him.

"Nice work today, Shads!" he called, waving a plush arm to catch the other's attention. He just hoped that Shadow wouldn't suddenly realise he hadn't left and get away before they could have a proper conversation.

Instead, Shadow folded his arms over his - woefully soft-looking - chest. "I don't need your approval. I know that I'm good at my job."

Despite himself, Sonic couldn't stop the dopey smile that stretched the cotton lining of his mouth. "I hear ya. Just wanted to extend an olive branch, so to speak."

"I'm not interested."

Sonic tried not to visibly deflate with disappointment. "Why not? If we're going to be working together, we may as well --"

"Not interested," Shadow reiterated harshly, and then he skulked out of the room to go… who knows where.

Sonic felt half-inclined to follow him, if only to sate his own curiosity. He glanced behind him; the others were busy stretching out their limbs and chatting amongst themselves to notice him slip away down the corridor.

The courtyard was Sonic's favourite place in the entire studio grounds. It was spacious, calm, and best of all, outside. He liked being outside. Except on rainy days when the rain would make his fabric smell like mildew and he'd be tossed into the dreaded washing machine.

For a while, he'd been unable to get to the courtyard outside of work hours; somehow a human had found the key that Sonic had swiped and relinquished it from him. 'Who left their key with the puppet?' the human had asked. The other humans shrugged their shoulders. Sonic tried his best to remain inanimate.

To see the door slightly ajar on this particular evening was a surprise. And it could only mean that Shadow had found a way outside, unbeknownst to everyone else. Had he also gotten a key? Was the courtyard where he was disappearing off to, after all this time?

Sonic had worried about rain, but the weather was clear and balmy. Crickets chirped in the grass. Streetlights cast a warm glow against the vermilion sunset. It was pleasant.

He looked around for a moment, soaking in the relaxing atmosphere, but he didn't notice Shadow immediately. That's when Sonic remembered a particular little corner tucked away just off to the side, where there was a swinging loveseat he liked to sit on sometimes. When he made his way over, he found Shadow sitting on that same loveseat, faced away from Sonic and fiddling with a box beside him.

"You come here often?" Sonic joked, and Shadow flinched, whipping around to glare at him.

"Why are you here?" Shadow growled.

"I like to come here sometimes," Sonic explained. Shadow seemed tense, his body moving in front of the box to obscure it from Sonic's view. "I used to come here a lot, but I lost the key…"

"Unsurprising," Shadow said, and then hesitated for a moment. "Did the humans take it?"

"Heh, yeah. I was never really good at hiding it. I tried hiding it in my head - y'know, the little space where they put their hand." Sonic tapped the little opening on the back of his head for emphasis. "But they found it pretty quickly. I was never able to get the key again after that."

He realised he was rambling and quickly shut his mouth. Shadow had his hand on his shoulder and a strange, disgruntled look on his face. Well, more disgruntled than usual.

"Hey, uh, is everything OK?" Sonic chanced, taking a step closer. Shadow bristled, the hand clasping down firmer as he leaned away slightly.

"I'm fine. If you've got nothing important to say, I'd like to be alone."

"Did you hurt yourself?"

"None of your business."

"What's that box next to you?" Ever stubborn, Sonic ignored Shadow's warnings and approached the loveseat, peering over the other puppet to inspect what he was trying to hide.

A sewing kit.

Shadow shot to his feet and pushed Sonic away harshly. Sonic stumbled, but the fence behind him caught his body before he could fall. He grasped his fingers into the chainlink, getting his bearings. Shadow looked mortified, like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't.

"Don't misunderstand," he spoke, voice wobbling just a little. "I'm taking stock of my sewing supplies. That's all."

Sonic's eyes fell to the shoulder that Shadow continued to protect with his hand.

"Do you have a tear?"

Shadow tensed, his free hand curling into a fist. He bared his teeth at Sonic, a warning, but Sonic refused to leave. Not if Shadow was damaged. Not if he could help.

"The humans can't find out. My - my material is far too expensive to be damaged. I have to fix it before they come back."

"So, what's stopping you?"

Shadow faltered. He looked down at the grass, and then flopped back down onto the loveseat.

"I can't reach it."

Sonic blinked, stepping closer. When Shadow didn't try to push him away this time, Sonic sat next to him and softly urged him to remove his hand. The tear was small, almost unnoticeable - but it was on the back of Shadow's shoulder, an awkward spot that he definitely could not mend by himself.

Sonic offered an encouraging smile. "Well, it's a good thing you taught me how to sew, then, right?"

Shadow turned to stare at him and Sonic couldn't help but laugh at how incredulous he looked in that moment.

"You're messing with me."

"I'm not!" Sonic said through his laughter, reaching out to take Shadow's hand in his own before the other could leave. "I'm not, I promise. Do you want me to help?"

"I…" Shadow paused, as if considering the offer. He stared down at their connected hands. "I don't have a choice, do I?"

"Not if you're adamant about the humans not finding out."

Shadow sighed. "Alright. Fine. There's some thread in the kit."

Sonic moved to Shadow's opposite side to rifle through the box, fishing out a spool of black thread (that Shadow specifically picked out; apparently the others weren't the correct shade, although he personally could not discern the difference) and threading it through a needle.

"Remember the stitch I taught you?"

"Yeah, don't worry." Sonic sat behind Shadow and gently poked at the tear in his fabric to make sure he got the right spot. "I'm gonna start. You ready?"

"You better not do a poor job," Shadow grumbled, but didn't move. "Let's get this over with."

Sonic wished Shadow would trust him a little more, but the puppet's pride had always been a big part of him, a part that Sonic found himself adoring, despite how snappy it made Shadow sometimes.

Sonic carefully pushed the needle into Shadow's fabric and pulled the thread through. Shadow didn't fidget or tell him to stop, so he kept going: again and again, in a steady rhythm, just as Shadow had taught him. Sonic weaved a zig-zag stitch along the seam, closing it up little by little. Shadow's stuffing had poked out, so he pushed it back in with his finger as he went.

He hadn't gotten much practice, and the stitching was just a bitwonky, but Sonic reckoned he'd done a good job. Besides, with how dark Shadow's fabric was, and how small the tear had been, the stitching was barely noticeable. He knotted the thread once, twice, and then snipped it free. With an "All done!" and an encouraging pat to Shadow's shoulder, Sonic returned the items back into the sewing kit.

Shadow moved his arm around to test Sonic's work, rotating his shoulder and stretching his hand towards the sky. Sonic peered back at the stitching to check, and to his delight (and personal pride) it hadn't budged at all. It looked pretty dang secure.

"I think I did a great job, if you don't mind me saying!"

"That remains to be seen." Shadow clicked the sewing kit shut and picked it up. "As long as the humans don't find out that I got damaged."

"Why are you so worried about that, anyway?" Sonic asked, following Shadow as he got up and began heading for the studio door. "We've all gotten ripped plenty of times, but the humans always take care of us."

"Of course you have," Shadow sneered, but his voice was weak, quiet. "I am made of high-quality materials. If the humans found out, they would surely be upset and flounder about as they figure out how to fix it. I was not made to be easily broken."

Sonic hummed thoughtfully as they stepped inside and Shadow locked the door behind them. "I don't doubt it, but you're a part of the family, y'know? They would want to look after you."

"…Thank you," Shadow said after a pensive moment. "For assisting me."

"Of course, Shads." The nickname came out softer than Sonic had intended.

"If you tell anyone I was damaged, I'll put you out of commission."

Despite the threat, Sonic found himself beaming. He'd long since learned that Shadow was all bark and no bite. Well, sometimes he bit. Those teeth were not to be messed with. Even so, Sonic nodded in agreement as they made their way back to the others.

Maybe Shadow needed a little more time to settle in, but he still had a place in the group. From the day he was lifted out of his box, he was welcomed with open arms, even if he didn't see it that way. Sonic made sure to remind Shadow as many times as it took that he was wanted. That he was loved.

And, well, since Shadow had trusted Sonic to help him with such a delicate problem, maybe Sonic's words had finally gotten through to him.

Sonic sure hoped so.