#there's like grime everywhere that isn't in a building
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Y'know
maybe they wouldn't of needed so many organ transplants if the medical field was more clean in that world
have y'all seen how fucking grimy the world of Repo! is???
#repo! the genetic opera#repo#the genetic opera#like im on my third watch now of the week because of a college paper#and by GOD#is that world dirty#there's like grime everywhere that isn't in a building#EVEN THE OUTSIDE OF THE GENECO BUILDING LOOKS DIRTY#LIKE IM TALKING ABOUT THE UPPER FLOORS#ig industrialization is the cause#fuck capitalism#that's the moral of repo#capitalism sucks#im making this post instead of working on my paper
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Mixed Signals
Chapter 2: Fallout
A family emergency forces Raph to confront his feelings.
Universe: TMNT (2007)
Relationship/s: Raphael/OC Vall Scott
Tag/s: Fluff and Angst, Mutual Pining, Awkward Flirting, Banter, Babysitting.
A/N: This story takes place prior to the events of Chapter 9 of my main story, To Build a Home.
TW! Blood and Gore (TV depiction).
Chapter 1
---
"Oh, God..." Val grimaced at the partially-devoured dead body lying in the centre of the screen.
Raph's smirk lingered over her as he slowly nibbled away at his popcorn. "Mmm, delicious!"
"Urgh! You're disgusting..."
The pair occupied either end of the three-seater couch; separated by a large bowl of overly salted popcorn, her bottle of water and his coke.
"Remind me again why ya watch these things?" The terrapin enquired, gesturing to the screen. They were following a disoriented Rick Grimes as he wandered through the abandoned hospital; bodies (soldier and civilian) and medical supplies strewn everywhere. "Gore is like, a given, in zombie media; and you can't stand it. Why torture yourself?"
Val covered her flushed cheeks with her palms. "I usually just skip the worst parts..."
"You're a weirdo," Raph chuckled, rolling his eyes as he returned his attention to the show.
A sudden commotion drew Rick's attention down an unexplored corridor; specifically, to a pair of swing doors at the end. As he warily approached, he found they had been chained shut. Several pairs of dirty hands reached through the tiny gap, accompanied by a collection of subdued moans. Lifting his gaze, he read the large, painted notice.
"Don't dead..." Val narrowed her eyes at the screen, confusion clear on her face. "Open... inside? What??"
Raph gawked at her. "You're joking... Val, please tell me you're joking..."
"What-"
"It literally says: Don't Open, Dead Inside," he exclaimed, struggling to contain his laughter. "Not: Don't Dead, Open Inside!" The terrapin's hands flew to his face as he threw his head back; heaving a long, muffled groan. "Ohhh, my God..."
"Oh, c'mon!" Val shoved him playfully, causing a few popcorn pieces to spill out of the bowl. "You can't possibly sit there and tell me it doesn't read like that!"
"No, it doesn't; cos, unlike you, apparently - I can read! How the heck did ya manage to get that from that??"
"Any normal person would go left to right - not down."
"Well, any normal person would look at that and go: Hmm, what makes more sense: the nonsense you just spewed, or the right way?"
"But that's not the right way, though!" Val laughed.
"You're forgettin' the cultures that read vertically," Raph countered smugly. "Like the Japanese-"
"Yeah, but this isn't Japan-" she snapped a finger at the screen. "They're in freakin'... what's it called? Georgia! Atlanta, Georgia!"
The terrapin shrugged, smirk deepening. "There could be Japanese in Georgia; you shouldn't just assume these things, Val-"
"Oh, my God, you're so annoying- stop!" Val buried her face in her hands; he'd made her blush - again.
Raph chuckled as he relaxed into his seat, revelling in her embarrassment. "You're never gonna live this down. Y'know that, right?"
"Yes, I'm well aware of your assholery..." The brunette groaned softly as she lifted her gaze. She couldn't resist - she needed that last laugh. "I'm still right, though-"
"No, ya ain't-"
"Yeah, I am-"
"Nope-"
"Yep-"
"Nuh-uh-"
"Ya-huh-"
Raph gave her a look. "Val..."
"Raph..." She teased.
The terrapin's stomach somersaulted when Val unexpectedly scooted over, brushing her knee against his once she finally relaxed. With a shit-eating grin, she proceeded nudging his plastron, over and over. "I'm right, Raph; you know I am. Say it... Say it, Raph... Say it, Raphie boy-"
"Alright, alright - yes!" He laughed, lunging forward to pin her arm to her side. She attacked with her other hand. "Ah-ah! No, ya don't!" He snatched that wrist, tugging it against him. "I've yielded; that means you stop! Have I taught you nothin'?"
Val scoffed as she yanked herself from his grip. "Don't you remember pawning me off to April, slackass?"
The brunette winced the moment those words left her mouth. Why the fuck would you say that?!
She caught a flicker of hurt in Raph's eyes, before a strained smirk promptly took its place. "Aw, come now, don't be like that... The last time I had ya on the mat, you heel-palmed my jaw so hard, I chipped a tooth. I'm just lookin' out for the rest of my teeth."
"Again, I'm sorry..." Val wracked her brain for a way to tactfully inject her thoughts. "I think there may be something else at play here... It's been weeks since I've seen you smile; like, actually smile, and laugh... Things haven't felt the same between us, since-"
"I'm fine, Val." Raph shook his head. "Despite my bruised ego, I'm perfectly fine; you're fine - we're fine."
"...I'm not."
At that, the terrapin averted his gaze. Please, don't say it. Please, please, please, don't say it...
"I miss you..."
He squeezed his eyes shut, exhaling shakily through clenched teeth.
"Ever since that day, you've been distant with me..." As Val counted each example on her fingers, she attempted catching his gaze. He avoided hers. "No more dinners or movies at mine... No more shit-talk... No more late-night calls or texts - just generic shit... No more GIFs-"
Raph snapped toward her. "GIFs??" He snorted derisively. "That's what you're upset about??"
Val jerked back, as though he'd struck her. The terrapin froze, breath escaping him as they stared at one another. Once the shock finally wore off, he caught tears brimming those big, beautiful eyes.
He'd made her cry.
"I'm pouring my heart out to you, and that's what you take from it?!" She scoffed tearfully, shaking her head. "...You're an asshole."
With that, Val rose from her seat; a panicked Raph reached for her.
"Don't." He'll never forget her face as she wrenched her hand away. She looked ready to explode; he hoped she would - he deserved it.
"I want my friend back..." Her lips trembled as tears finally spilled down her cheeks.
His heart screamed for him to move; to take her into his arms and tell her precisely how much she meant to him, then finally taste the lips he's dreamt of kissing for months...
His body, unfortunately, refused to budge.
The front door lock abruptly clicked, causing the pair to flinch. Whipping toward it, they found April quietly creeping inside, with a bloodied Casey following close behind.
"What the hell happened to you??" Raph grimaced at Casey's battered mouth, then the plastic bag of soiled tissues he gripped.
His best friend gave a cotton-ball filled grin as he attempted to speak. "I... urgh, fu-"
"He skated head first into the glass..." April answered for him; catching Val wiping her cheeks as the latter approached the table to retrieve her belongings.
"You okay?" The redhead mouthed to her; Raph, struggling to focus on his own conversation, found himself eavesdropping.
He couldn't hear, or see (Val's back was toward him) what was being said, but there was a lot of nodding and face touching on the brunette's part.
Then, she turned for the door.
"I'll see you next time," Val nodded to Casey, clearly avoiding Raph's gaze.
Casey's eyes darted between the pair, quirking a disconcerted brow. "Wha tha heck's goin' on??"
"Nothing." Val side-eyed the terrapin as she continued forward. "It's okay. Enjoy the rest of your night."
Raph stepped toward her. "Val-"
April held up a hand, halting him. He pleaded her with his eyes, but she shook her head apologetically.
He watched helplessly as Val left.
---
@android-cap-007 @happymoonangel @miss-andromeda
#teenage mutant ninja turtles#tmnt#oc val scott#tmnt 2007#tmnt raph#tmnt raphael#tmnt raph x oc#raph x oc#to build a home#tmnt oc#tmnt 07#mixed signals#tmnt fanfiction#tmnt fanfic#tmnt casey jones#tmnt april
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New chapter!
Here I come with another part from that story.
Thanks for your comments and reblogs, I'm glad you all liked it!
Hope you will like this one too.
Enjoy!!
≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈
Our Story.
Daryl Dixon x Wife/ Daryl Dixon x Reader.
Part 4.
Masterlist.
Warnings: TWD gore. Swearing. Violence.
Words: 3400
Summary: The world goes to shit, now is time to fight for their lifes, Daryl remembers his past life but he has to move on.
≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈
Part 4. The new dead World.
"Daryl, I'm sorry about your brother." T-Dog's voice reaches his ears.
"When we get there, Merle better be alive and in one piece, for your sake." He assures her with a grunt, sitting on the cargo in the van.
His mind is still racing back and forth, furrowing through the mist enveloping him, trying to come back to reality. It had been a long time since his head had gone back to those days, a long time since he had remembered her face, her voice. But something triggered his memories, and there she was again.
Her.
Bringing back the best and worst memories of his life, he feels rage invade him for a second. He's sure it's because of Merle, the abandonment of those people to his fate, that new guy, Rick Grimes, believing himself capable of making the decision to leave him there, to handcuff him like an animal. Every time he thinks about it, anger becomes more present in his body. Between his fingers he plays with his crossbow and looks sideways once more at the men accompanying him.
The world had gone to shit, months before this happened. No one knows what it was exactly, on the news and the radio they talked about a virus that made people aggressive, but then the dead started walking the streets, the chaos and panic drove people crazy, forcing them to leave their homes, to look for a shelter where they would be safe. However, it was all a trap, the people who came to the big cities were bombed to eliminate as many infected as possible, no one intended to save them, only to make a massive cleanup.
Daryl and Merle were returning from several weeks of hunting when they heard the news on the radio in the rickety van. They didn't think too much about it, made their way to the cabin, grabbed everything they could load into the vehicle, Merle even insisted on taking his motorcycle.
"If we have to go looting it will be easier to make our way with the bike, little brother, then we'll fill up the van." He explained and Daryl agreed to his plan.
Since then it had just been Merle and him against the world and the dead, taking what they could, fighting for their lives, running from other people. Until they found the camp in that abandoned quarry. There were men, women, children, all living together, sharing tasks, keeping watch to keep the place guarded, safe. It seemed like a good option. Merle hinted at stealing what they could and leaving again, Daryl didn't completely agree, but he didn't do anything to dissuade him either.
And now there he was, in the middle of the streets of Atlanta, infested by those undead, looking for a handful of guns and his brother.
And he can't stop thinking about her.
"She went to Atlanta, after the wedding." Your mother's voice comes back to his mind forcing him to stop his steps.
Atlanta.
His eyes scan the place without being fully aware, with his crossbow pointed towards the ground, sharpening his hearing, in case any sound, other than silence and grunts, came towards him. He frowns, as he's not sure what exactly he's looking for.
"Daryl." Rick calls out to him. "Something wrong?"
"No, just my brother handcuffed on a rooftop." He roars back to reality.
"What are we looking for first?"
"Merle! That's out of the question!" he barks again.
His teammates don't seem to agree completely, but according to the Asian guy, Glenn, Merle is closer, so Merle will be the first target.
Daryl stays silent most of the time, his gaze directed everywhere, his ears fully alert. Getting to the building isn't too much trouble, Glenn remembers the way perfectly, there are no glitches in his plan or his guidance through the alleys until they reach their destination. Unfortunately, when they reach the rooftop Merle is gone, but that's not the worst of it, the son of a bitch has cut off his hand to escape. Daryl once again feels that emptiness he felt years ago, with his loss. His eyes burn, but he has long since stopped allowing himself to cry.
"No!" he simply cries out in despair. "No! No!" he exclaims again helplessly, moving from side to side in despair.
His being is torn apart once again, as it was years ago. He is alone. The last thing he had left of his life, the only thing that, ironically, kept him stable, is now gone. His anger overtakes him, he is unable to think rationally as he raises his crossbow and takes aim at T-Dog. The man doesn't move, as if he knows he deserves it, he's not going to fight, however, Rick is quick too and points his revolver at him so that, not even by chance, he can't think of shooting his companion.
He shakes his head trying to return to sanity. He lowers the gun, reaches for something to wrap his brother's hand with and stuffs it into Glenn's backpack.
"That fucker's still alive." He mumbles. "He cut his hand and made a tourniquet with his belt so he wouldn't bleed out."
"With any luck, he won't be far behind." Dares Rick to add, he just nods.
"You guys better hope so." He assures them and they walk back into the building, tracking the trail of blood Merle has left in his escape.
But things, since that world went to shit, are no longer easy even for the simplest of tasks. Merle has managed to escape through a window, God knows where he could be now, Daryl is willing to keep going until he finds him, but Rick stops him again. He's starting to get tired of him, that he blocks him every time he tries to say or do something, he's not going to let a guy you know nothing about order him around like he's a little kid.
"Look, man..."
"No, listen to me, we're not going to leave Merle to his fate, but we can't go around without weapons to defend ourselves, we need that bag first, come up with a plan and then go after your brother, is that clear?"
For a second Daryl wants to hit him, make him see how "clear" he has been, but he restrains himself, he has to be logical, he is at a disadvantage, in a city full of those beings, his crossbow is powerful, but he has the problem of having to reload it every time and that takes away a few seconds he could be a victim. He chews his lip and nods, letting Rick continue to lead the mission as Glenn hatches a plan to go after the weapons. Daryl is surprised that a simple pizza delivery boy could plan something so elaborate and specific, but he feels he can trust him, he seems to know very well what he's talking about.
They walk down the alley together while Rick and T-Dog wait. Again things don't go the way anyone expected. Daryl starts to feel desperate and frustrated, that kid who knocked him out, those guys who took Glenn, are playing on his nerves. Again Rick has to restrain his impulses not to kill that kid.
"Merle? What's the name Merle? I wouldn't call my dog that."
Okay, fine, he's going to kill him.
He lunges at him unceremoniously, but Rick restrains him, forcing him back, warning him once again to keep his cool or next time he'll be the one to knock him out. Daryl doubts he will, but backs away trying to keep his cool.
******************
"So...this place...you guys just take care of the old people?" Glenn asks looking around uncomprehendingly.
"We didn't intend to take on anyone, but your friend put an arrow in my partner, you understand that, right? Those guns... we need them to take care of these people." Speaks the leader of the group.
"I understand that, but we need them too, we have people out there, you guys have walls." Says Glenn sighing.
"You have people looking for you, they are good friends." They hear a female voice.
"We learn how to survive."
"I think we could share weapons." She says again taking a long look from the leader. "They are more exposed than we are..."
"I'll think about it..." He promises and walks away when his companions call out to him.
"How long have you been with them?" Glenn asks, you give him a sidelong glance and shrug.
"Almost since it all started, I worked here; many left because they wanted to be with their families, Guillermo didn't want to leave, he couldn't abandon the elderly, so I stayed too." You shrug. "We have resisted as best we know how, but resources are starting to get scarce and more and more people are coming looking for what little we have..."
"We'll go away again, we'll leave you in peace, we just need weapons so we can keep defending ourselves, like you." Glenn assures and you smile.
"I'm sure Guillermo will do the right thing, trust him."
After making sure Glenn is okay, you leave him alone to continue with your work, those people need you, Guillermo has to deal with those people on his own, but you have to make sure those people are still calm. You get lost inside the building to go to the infirmary where you have the store of medicines and technical devices to help some of the elderly. Some of them are too old, their dementia and weak bodies don't allow them to get out of bed most of the time, so you prepare their medications and make your rounds, room by room, as you always do.
Some routine never hurts.
You hear bustle in the main room as you are returning from your rounds, you put on your alert because someone needs your assistance. You leave the tray in place, close the infirmary and run into the ward to find out what's going on. Glenn is with one of the elderly, he is suffering from an asthma attack, he needs one of his inhalers. You have some reserve still in the infirmary, you can go get him, however, you get stuck for a moment when you see Guillermo appear with two other men you don't know.
Or so you think.
Your heart freezes. It can't be... Daryl? No, it can't be him, Atlanta is too far from home, he hasn't missed anything there, surely the Daryl you know, will be more comfortable in his cabin, maybe even... you shake your head, you don't want to think about the possibility that he was dead. No. You quickly put that possibility out of your mind and run back to the infirmary in search of the inhaler.
"I need an Inhaler for Mr...." You hear Jorge at the door.
"I know, here." You give it to him and he speeds away.
You stand there, leaning against the table, still with your heart pounding. What if it's Daryl? What if he's there? Why? What's he doing with those men? How does he know Glenn? Your mind is full of questions you'd really love to find answers to, but what if you go out there and it's not him? What if it is and he doesn't want anything to do with you? You take a deep breath trying to calm yourself, close your eyes as your hand squeezes the small form of the pendant around your neck against your palm, feeling your heart rate serenade a little.
"Hey..." You startle when you hear Glenn beside you. "We're... we're leaving."
"Already?" You ask with your voice shaking, but you nod. "Did you come to some agreement?"
"We've left you some weapons, yes, you need to protect these people, just as we need to protect ours so..." He shrugs and smiles.
"I'm glad, Glenn... you guys have a lot of luck."
"You too."
You bid each other a fond farewell, you don't know each other too well, but it's nice to know that there are still people out there who are decent, who you can trust and lean on in difficult times. You accompany Glenn to the main room, looking out of the corner of your eye, but Daryl, or who you think Daryl was, is not there, there is only the sheriff talking to Guillermo, both of them with their respective gun bags. You feel some relief because now you will be able to defend yourselves better against the dead. You dare to approach the window to look out onto the street. He is there, talking to another man, again your breath hitches because it is indeed him, there in his dirty old clothes, holding his crossbow tightly as if it were another extension of his own arm. You shake your head and turn away from the window feeling your hands won't stop shaking.
"Are you okay?" asks Miguel approaching you.
"Y-yeah, I was just... watching the new arrivals." You comment and see the teenager snort.
"Rick's legit, nice guy, but that redneck with them..." He mumbles and you look sideways at him. "They were looking for a guy, you know, what was his name... Mirlo... Merlín..."
"M-Merle?" you try to guess.
"Merle! Yeah, if he's as much of an idiot as he is, I hope they don't find him." He protests. You're tempted to correct him, but you bite your tongue in time.
They are looking for Merle, he is also there in Atlanta, again there are many questions in your mind, you remember that Glenn has told you that they are on the outskirts of the city in a camp, a group of people, even with children. You feel relief and can't help but smile, Daryl will take care of them, with his hunting and survival skills, they can be there for a long time. You are glad you saw him, even if it was from a distance, you are glad he is alive and helping those people.
You sigh and go on with your work.
**
"Here, it would be nice if you had one too." Guillermo says handing you a gun.
"What? I don't..." You swallow, nervous, taking the gun in fear.
"We'll teach you how to shoot, don't worry, but we all have to learn how to defend ourselves."
"Okay... Guillermo, thanks for helping them." You tell him when you see he's about to leave.
"They didn't look like bad guys, did they? Even though they did hit Jorge in the ass with an arrow." You try not to laugh at that, but nod. "Are you okay? You seem a little distracted."
"What? No, I'm fine, it's nothing."
"Did you like the Asian guy, did you want to go with them?"
"Of course not!" You exclaim feeling your cheeks burn violently. "I don't even know him, how could I go with him?"
"I don't know, Miguel said he saw you looking out the window when they left."
"I was just curious, nothing more... I'm going with Jorge so he can teach me how to use this." You change the subject so he doesn't keep asking questions and leave before he opens his mouth again.
"Did Guillermo give you a gun too?" That's the first thing Jorge says to you when you greet him.
"He wants us all to learn how to defend ourselves so...here I am."
"You're much more useful with the meds, you shouldn't be carrying a gun."
"I think he's right, if there really are people out there who might come around and not be nice we should be able to defend ourselves against them, there are a lot of people here who can't even move. Come on, I don't think it's that complicated."
Actually it wasn't, you just had to have some patience and aim, also ammunition was limited so you couldn't afford to waste it just like that.
"Hey, honey, you once said you were taught to shoot a crossbow, right?" you roll your eyes, you hate it when Guillermo calls you that, but you try not to make a big deal out of it because the rest of the question gets your attention more.
He has a bow with him, a competition bow, with several arrows to reload it, black in color, pretty nice, you have to admit. Daryl never taught you to shoot his crossbow, he only taught your sister, as if it was an intimate and romantic gesture between them, but you had always been good at watching and maybe, secretly, you learned to shoot with a bow, although your father wasn't very happy to pay you for those lessons.
"It doesn't have many arrows but we can make a foray down to the sporting goods store, maybe there's some left, but for now he'll be able to help you practice."
"Thank you Guillermo." You smile warmly.
You have always known that your partner's feelings are something more than friendship, but you have always been clear with him, you would never take advantage of it for your own benefit, ever since Michael died because of those things, your libido towards men seems to have disappeared, you could appreciate that they could be attractive and charming, but your body didn't react to them, they were simply your family, nothing more. You take the bow to examine it more closely, you test it in your hands, pull the string to make sure it is not damaged and check the arrows, they also seem intact.
In the small shooting range that Jorge prepares to teach you how to use your weapons, you prepare a target to be able to recover your technique, which you don't need too much time.
************
The camp has become a real mess, Merle took the van, which has forced them to run back in the middle of the night with their guns on their backs. Shouts and gunfire alerted them halfway up the hill picking up the pace.
Ed is dead, Daryl doesn't care too much, that man deserved to die sooner or later, he was a scumbag who beat his wife and God knows what was going through his mind when he touched his daughter, several more died, Daryl doesn't even know what their names are, Jim has been bitten and is ready to split his head open with a pickaxe, but again Rick stops him by putting a gun to his head.
To be honest, what hurts him the most is seeing Amy, lying on the ground, her neck torn, Andrea wracked with pain, unable to end it, unable to say goodbye to her.
For a second, his mind played a trick on him, the two sisters replaced by you and your sister, both of you lying on the ground, becoming those things. He grunts looking away, shaking his head.
"We have to end this." He says to Rick.
"Andrea won't let us get close." Carol insists.
"I'm not talking about getting close, fuck I could hit her from here without aiming. If she turns into that thing..."He can't finish the sentence, a gunshot is heard behind them that makes him cringe.
Everyone sees that Andrea has given Amy an end, finally, the crying consumes her, but she is aware that it's for the best, that turning into one of those things would no longer make her, her sister. Without a word from anyone, leaving Jim to rest in the trailer, Rick is ready to return to the city to the CDC in search of a cure. He's not even sure if that can exist, but for some reason he wants to believe the man's promises.
The place is not a panacea, but it allows them to eat, to relax, to enjoy their surroundings like no one else has for months. People get excited at the idea of a hot shower, even Daryl likes the idea, but food is a priority and Daryl feels his stomach clench as he sees the kids smile with breadth and excitement, their stomachs finally full as they deserve, he always made it a point to bring food to camp, that no one would suffer, but sometimes it was harder than others.
He feels his body relax and can't help but smile with amusement when Carl winces as he tastes the wine. His heart leaps inside his chest like it hasn't for a long time.
"Booya!" he howls plethorically and smiles when everyone shouts with him.
Of course at no time did he ever think that this place would become a trap, almost a tomb.
****
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To be Continued...
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Hope you liked it!!
See you in the next chapters!
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Taglist: @green-eyedladywrites @minervadashwood @livingdeadblondequeen @bringinsexybackk69 @graniairish
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This looks like a place I used to go as a very little girl. I still don't understand what that was or what the building was for.
Being chronically gaslit will mess with your memory. My [REDACTED] specialist reminded me I should see a neurologist. It made me sad.
I can't remember what I was writing, that happens when I think about anything upsetting or get even a little stressed. Uh...
Oh yeah. I was reading about schizophrenia prodrome. Sounds like my mum a lot. I wonder how different I'd be if I could talk to her.
"Remember when we went to the hotel?" And she'd just tell me that never happened.
I remember the nice lady (?) (sometimes a man) at the launderette who liked me a lot. She always gave me lolipops. There was a jar of them on the counter.
I don't think we had money back then, or something was wrong.
Those "sleepovers" were fun though. We got a big room with lots of beds for me and my siblings and her. The beddings were fluffy and big and white. I remember all that as well or better than what happened 2 days ago (meaning fuzzy, or not at all. Just a suggestion of a shape. Body sensations, bodily emotions. I think and recount in touch and direction mostly, it tells you a lot).
I remember grammar rules people find weird and don't use now that we're older. I suppose English has changed. I suppose British English got more American to fit everywhere else. I remember being told off for doing things that were drilled into me when I was 6.
I don't remember how much my body hurt in my teens, I don't like to. I don't like to remember how no one understood.
My boyfriend is Norwegian. He said it's normal to have mothbitten muscles after being in the snow in not enough for long. It made me feel better. I was on the bed wondering if I was "getting bad" again, so it was comforting. It put me at ease. England doesn't get that cold though, I don't know why I was feeling like that.
I was getting on the circle or district line to Victoria when I was 17 and my legs stopped working for a second on the stairs. I remember that.
Maybe I should close the window...
I like public diaries. I don't entirely mind that, if I say something naughty again and this account gets sniped, I'll lose all these entries. It's happened at least twice now on various sites. I don't mind because I don't feel attached to my memories.
I like clinging to him when I feel like something's wrong, although, I wish he helped around the house a bit more.
I feel like everyone likes you when you're a little girl, except the man who swore at me at the bus stop. I'm often invisible now, it makes me worry about other little girls. Will they feel invisible when they grow up? I certainly hope not, maybe I just got unlucky.
His friends don't always know how to say hi to me, and I'm not always good at introducing myself. I can't be bothered. I'm tired, I'm shy, my mouth gets full of cotton and sewn up sometimes. I both love it and hate it when people online call me a doll. I want to be a real girl, but sometimes it feels like that isn't enough.
Is it only me who would love to read a book in this living room by @RaphaelMetivet
Get Inspired, visit www.myhouseidea.com
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still simming and i'm almost done furnishing addie's massive farm !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
i added lighting outside :) it looks great in build mode so i'm excited to see it in game when the sun goes down!
more below, with lots of indoor shots too ~
here's a couple more of the outside lighting! it's so dreamy. I love it. there are firefly spots all around the place so i'm really hoping this becomes magical at night!
onto the inside! It's a massive goddamn house it's taking forever. everybody has their own room though and there's plenty of room for activities and skills :)
anyway here's the house. the first pictures are of the living/kitchen area. this is the "modern" living area - a couple walls were torn down to make it an open floor plan as u do in old farmhouses. I'm going for heavy clutter, some old things, some new, and lots of houseplants everywhere. poppy is invisible in that plaid purple rug on the floor lol. build mode babies...
do u see Shane's hot sauce shelf? :) i still have to clutter up some shelves and the dining table and decide if I want the wood walls or not. I also wanna put family pictures up! so I'm leaving empty walls compared to other parts of the house.
Marnie's room is up next since she wanted some screentime, as u can see, her standing eerily behind the couch
Marnie is in one of the rooms with the original wallpaper. I might add a little grime to tell that story. isn't it so cute?!? i love this set so much i've been abusing it in this house - the wallpaper and paintings are from that set. She does the laundry in this house so there's a spot for her to watch her soaps while she folds clothes. her 'grandkids' make her things so she keeps them in here :) She's picking up crossstitching too.
Addie and Shane's room is a weird shape, i could not figure out the layout to this house and their room suffered for it lol. but the little hallway is a kinda walk in closet... Shane doesn't have a ton of stuff, except that one bookshelf and whatever clothes he has. One of his couches from his old apartment is in the basement. The rest is all Addie - she's a packrat, and i like her having clutter everywhere, including the walls. She has her more tame witchy things in her bedroom - tarot cards on the fireplace by her grandma's ashes, her book of shadows and mandala board on her dresser. I don't have my own posters made but let's pretend one of the ones in the corner is for nolan's band :p. Poppy is still small so her stuff is crammed in here for now, but she does have her own room. As you can see, no unsavory things in this room, don't snoop.
This is their little bathroom - the shower is to the right but u can't see. there's also a little ladder in here to the attic, which i just started furnishing 😇
The hallway on the upper floor is a little playroom area. I think it's cute :) the floral couch is from Marnie's house! In the far corner is where Jas does her homework.
this is Deli's room! a little bare on the walls so i'm working on that. but he has a pet rat ;___; and he likes voidcritters. wonder who he takes after
and here's Poppy's room - it's very small but works for a baby.
Jas' room is still in progress - I had it nice in my old save so ive got to save it from there and paste it in the next time i load the game.
Lastly... the 70s basement...
The stairwell is claustrophobia-inducing, i hope u can tell by the first pic. but u go downstairs and it's a blast from the past. lots of hand me down furniture including shane's old couch and ping pong table. this is also where i put the big kid play items that would be cute elsewhere if they didn't take so much space!! deli's dollhouse was supposed to be in his room but i could not get it to work in there :(
The last pic in that set is their brewing room. the beer machine was embarrased i came in to see him. I want it to be their pantry too - i'm hoping i can find a cc pack for basement pantries/homestead pantries. I'll even take disaster shelter pantries. the vibes need to be unhinged in here ok
I almost forgot, the never-remodelled bathroom
per custom i'll leave u a few parting misc pics. jas :)
marnie ignoring her nephew. she's busy!!! (this was from we're-all-in-the-living-room phase of this house lol)
and lastly, surprise! i have to find another metal band that could pass as a name for a baby (non canonical ass baby. i can name u whatever i want). this was an accident lol i forgot to re-enable her birth control after she had poppy ;_; and ya i can just use master controller to zap that baby gone, but both her and shane are happy about it and she is constantly rolling 'try for baby' wants. so u know what? here's ur baby have fun.
hope u enjoy lol. i obviously am :D eat sleep sims repeat amiright gamers
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First attempt at writing for Max Phillips. I've only seen the film once, so forgive. I've worked in many shitty offices though. 18+, allusions to smut and blood stuff but nothing actual yet. 2.9k words.
Stepping out of the cab door, your eyes roved with distaste over the building that you had been dropped off in front of. It somehow managed to be both brown and grey, its filthy windows gleaming blackly at regular intervals, and sooty pollution covering it with an additional layer of grime. It exuded an air of desperation and futility, the relentless, pointless, and thankless grind of office work etched into every single atom of the concrete exterior. Thank Christ this wasn't a permanent position. Plastering a polite façade over your disgust, you entered the building. Or at least attempted to. The revolving door seemed to be stuck.
"Hey! Hi!" came a voice behind you. As you turned to face him, you found you knew the type. Male, mid 30s, never worked a day in his life if he could help it, sleazy but not overtly enough to warrant disciplinary action, probably smoked weed on his breaks. "You uhhh...you gotta kind of pull it and then push. Allow me." The man's eyes hadn't left your tits since he had laid eyes on them. He did his little trick with the door, and to your surprise it actually worked.
"Thanks," you muttered half heartedly.
"Hey, no problem, no problem. Noooo problemooo. So uhhh...I've not seen you here before. I guess you're here to replace all the staff that were turned into vampires!" He giggled stupidly at his own non-joke and then added in a very unconvincingly modest tone, "I uh, I killed them, you know?"
"Yeah?" you said disinterestedly, jabbing at the elevator button.
"Oh yeah. Last Friday was, it was just fuckin' crazy!" he exclaimed. "Turned out my immediate boss was a vampire and he had turned all these other workers into vampires and then he killed the big boss. Broke his neck. Just," he snapped his fingers, mimicking the noise, "gone. And then I just staked the shit out of all these vampires. It was reaaal messy, I tell ya! Blood everywhere." His voice faded as he realised he was not eliciting the reaction he wanted from you.
"Right," you said flatly as the elevator doors finally opened with an incongruously hearty "ding". The interior was lit with a sickly yellow green light, making the fake wooden wall panels some vile and bizarre colour that you were grateful did not exist anywhere in nature. "Ted is a dick" was scrawled in what looked like Sharpie over one wall. You pressed the button to your floor and inwardly groaned that it appeared to be his floor too.
"Yeah, and THEN my buddy Evan ended up getting back together with his girlfriend. They were making out in a big pool of blood. Was kinda hot. We went out to celebrate all weekend. No sleep, Margaritas for literal days. I'm so fuckin' hungover I don't even know what's happening right now. My name's Tim by the way."
"Hi," you replied shortly as the door to the elevator slid open with another irritating noise revealing two people, a man and a woman with matching wide eyed expressions of terror on the other side.
"Fuck man," said the man opposite you. "Fuck!"
"Dude, fuck off. I'm too hungover-"
"Fuck your hangover," interjected the woman. "Max ISN'T DEAD!" Finally, Tim pulled himself from his slouching stupor as he lifted himself away from where he had been leaning on the elevator wall.
"What the fuck do you mean Max isn't dead?!" he exclaimed.
"Well, you know Max? Well HE ISN'T DEAD! Well, obviously he is dead being a vampire and all, but he-" You moved around the huddle of people in front of you, just as the elevator doors started to close again.
"Excuse me, can I get by?" you asked politely.
"Oh yeah sure...Wait lady, you do not wanna go into that office!" the man who wasn't Tim warned. "There is a real, live bastard vampire in there and-"
"Ahhh, you must be my new Personal Assistant," a smooth and sultry voice broke in. "Welcome." A beautiful man in a beautifully tailored suit held out his hand for you to shake. As you took it, you noted how cold he was to the touch. He couldn't have eaten recently.
"Mr Phillips," you greeted him. "Can I get you something to eat?" Max crinkled his face into an expression of exaggerated adoration.
"Isn't she sweet?" he crooned. "Already so attentive to my needs. No dear, I have a little something in the fridge for later. But I appreciate you looking out for me. And the diligence...ooof. Very impressive!" He gave you two thumbs up as Tim covered his face with one hand and put out the other in a 'hold up' expression.
"Wait. We killed you. There was A LOT of blood. How is this happening. Why is this happening?" Max didn't deign to look at him, choosing instead to brush imaginary pieces of lint off the cuffs of his jacket.
"So yeah...Tom? Is it?"
"You know its Tim."
"Yeah, okay. Whatever. The thing is, Tom, that my sire was some huge bigwig in the vampire realm and if you want to kill me properly you have to go to Romania, do a ritual with their blood and my blood, yadda, yadda, yadda. Its all very intense. And extremely expensive for someone on your pay grade. So...here I am. Good luck getting rid of me. Productivity is through the roof, even with you three messing up my stats."
The man who wasn't Tim drew himself up to his full height. "No." He said dramatically.
"I'm sorry Evan, what was that?" Max enquired, holding a hand theatrically behind one ear.
"I said "NO"!" bellowed the man you supposed was called Evan. He ran behind Max and vaulted on to a desk, tripping over wires and stamping on a keyboard accidentally in the process. "Everyone! Listen to me. We don't have to work for these people! We can rise up and throw them out, kill them again! We already did it once! If we kill this asshole every single time he sets foot in here, how long before he stops showing up? We just need a little persistence people. A little grit!"
His speech was met with dead silence until someone piped up a few cubicles away. "Dude, literally ALL of us are vampires apart from you three. Just shut up and sit down." Evan turned back to where Tim and the woman still stood next to you and Max.
"Amanda?"
"I need this job, Evan. We both need this job. Or have you forgotten all of our plans for the future already?" She folded her arms and arched an eyebrow at him.
"Well no, but...Tim! Tim, you'll back me up won't you, man?"
Tim groaned. "Honestly, dude. I'm fuckin' hungover as shit. I just want a coffee and to sit down. I'm...I'm just tired, man." Evan visibly deflated under the negativity in front of him.
"Okayyy, Evan, I'll need to see you in my office very soon for a little chat about workplace decorum. How about now? Oh and, you will be paying for that keyboard you just vandalised." Max smiled victoriously as Evan stepped off the desk, getting tangled in the keyboard wiring again and falling to the floor with a thump. Max turned to Amanda instead, visibly dismissing Evan from his sphere of attention. "So that thing I said on Friday. You know, about turning you and fucking you over Ted's desk. I just want you to know...that's my desk now. Oh and I meant nothing by it. It was just to get a rise out of Evan." He cocked an inviting eyebrow toward her. "Unless...." Amanda recoiled in horror. "No? No, okay. I can take a hint. Evan, my office. You too, dear." This last was directed at you, with a dazzling smile that revealed all of his teeth, except those ones, which mercifully stayed retracted. You followed him into his office, feeling the heat of the three human gazes at your back.
"Mr. Phillips-"
"Max, please."
"...Mr. Phillips, I like to keep it professional, thank you. Do you need me to get you anything? Or should I take notes for this meeting or-" Max snapped his fingers and pointed at you as if what you had suggested was the best idea he had ever heard.
"Yes! Take notes, please. I want a record of this disciplinary on my desk by the end of today." You settled yourself in what was possibly the most ugly and uncomfortable chair in the hemisphere. He noted your discomfort as you shifted in it. "Order yourself a new chair too," he threw out, casually. "I can't have my PA uncomfortable. And you'll be spending a looootttt of time in here with me, I imagine." He sat on the corner of his desk as he spoke, a little too close and towering above you with a smarmy grin on his face as his finger traced a circular pattern on the polished wood. Before you could respond, Evan entered the room looking apprehensive. "Ah, Evan. Sit down, won't you?"
Evan looked around in puzzlement. "But there's only one chair," he protested.
"Then sit on the floor," Max replied, shaking his head and speaking as if what he was saying was the most obvious thing in the world.
"I'll stand, thanks," Evan replied.
Max sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before lifting his face to Evan's again. "I said, sit down." His voice had become mellow, sweet, like dandelion fluff floating on a golden summer breeze, and you recognised the hypnotic tones within. Evan's face went slack and he plonked himself jarringly on the floor, cross legged like a child in a school assembly. "There, much better," Max beamed, his voice returning to its usual sharper tones. Evan seemed to come to, suddenly realising what had happened.
"Hey! You can't do that to me. I have rights you know-"
"The only rights you have here, Evan, are the rights that I give you. Now, I'm a fair man. I'm willing to overlook the fact that you tried to kill me. I'm even willing to write a clause into your contract which says that I will not turn you, if that's what you want. But I need you to get on board with this whole vampire thing. We're better workers. We just are. And if you can't at least try to keep up with the productivity level then I'll have to let you go." He held up a hand, halting the arguments that were about to burst forth from the other man. "I'm going to give the same speech to Amanda and Tom. And I know we'll have to make some adjustments to our expectations to make up for your...shortfalls." He grinned nastily again, and this time you could see he had allowed his fangs to show. Just enough to emphasise his point. "Oh and its a hundred dollars for the keyboard you ruined."
"A hundred-?!"
"Yes, well you shouldn't have been fucking around up there, should you?" Max scolded, actually wagging his finger at Evan. "Now please. Go. Do some work. Just stay out of my way. And send in Amanda."
Amanda was not made to sit on the floor. You got the impression she would be able to resist Max's hypnosis a little better than the other two humans in the department and that Max didn't want to be made to look incompetent in any way in front of you. He was like a peacock strutting around, taking off his jacket so you could see the outline of his biceps as he flexed them gently under his carefully tailored shirt while he stood in front of you. You weren't entirely sure why he was trying to impress, but you had a fair idea. Before he had come to work in this godforsaken office, Max Phillips had turned around several other failing companies through his admittedly unorthodox methods. The idea of vampires as night shift workers had been around for a little while and was still gaining traction, but Max had wanted to have an office entirely staffed by vampires all the time, reasoning that once they had learned to control their bloodlust, the hyperfocus that ensued would make for extreme productivity. He was half right. Bloodlust was not the only indulgence associated with vampires. Apparently, aside from blood being a basic food requirement, it was also an aphrodisiac for them. Not wishing to delve too deeply into the subject, it was enough for you to know that in Max's case at least, all of his previous PA's had become vampires in a matter of weeks. Unbeknownst to him, the agency you worked for had set up an entire division devoted to PA's who were immune to hypnosis purely based on his past behaviour. You had checked out the report on the place Max had worked prior to this, and whilst productivity had initially skyrocketed under his leadership, it had fallen back to near normal levels after a time due to all the hours lost...well...fucking. The report hadn't been quite that explicit, but it hadn't been too difficult to read between the lines. It was irritating that you could understand the attraction to him, at least until he opened his mouth.
After Amanda came Tim, who needed no invitation from Max to sit on the floor. He was still groaning about his hangover and holding his head whilst drinking coffee from a chipped Pacman mug. Max opened his mouth to give him the same spiel that he had given to the others, shook his head and sighed instead. "Just don't fuck up my numbers. And don't try to kill anyone," he warned before dismissing him again. Once Tim had (literally) crawled out of his office, Max turned his attentions back to you. "You don't have your own space just yet and I apologise for that. We had a helluva day on Friday. The poor cleaner..." He cleared his throat and straightened his tie. "I'll get you set up as soon as possible. For now you can work in here." He smiled broadly and gestured around the dingy office as if he were giving you the keys to a mansion.
"Mr. Phillips-"
"Max. Please," he pouted again.
"...Mr. Phillips, I don't think there's enough desk space for us both to work efficiently in here."
"Oh nonsense. Set up your laptop that side and I'll work on this side. It'll be fine." You had your reservations and sighed internally, but supposed you didn't have much of a choice. Max chattered away to you as you set up your workspace. He did not do any actual work of his own that you could discern and seemed to adore the sound of his own voice. You were entirely surplus to requirements, except to supply an occasional "Yes Mr. Phillips" or "No, Mr. Phillips". It made it difficult to type up even the small amount of notes you had taken from his so-called "meetings" with the three humans, and you had only just about finished as lunchtime approached. Standing from the uncomfortable chair, you asked Max if it was okay if you got lunch for yourself, not missing the way his eyes darkened and raked you up and down as you did. Fucking vampires. Thinking with their teeth and their dicks.
"Didn't you bring lunch with you, dear?" he asked brightly, his eyes now finally settled on your face. "Things can get a little...messy round here at lunchtime these days." As if on cue something slammed against the door to the office, grabbing the attention of you both. A bright red spurt appeared on the glass as a distinctly sexual moaning sound emanated from the other side of the wall. Max sighed. "I told them to tone it down. They should be harnessing this energy, not wasting it on their co-workers. This is what happens when there's a whole lot of new vampires made all at once, they just go nuts with it." He turned his attention back to you and for the first time, you detected something genuine in his face and tone of voice. His brow wrinkled and he pointed at you as he said "Be careful moving around the building. Right now those fuckers don't have much self control. In fact, I'm going to say that if you need to go somewhere, I'm going with you. At least for the first couple of weeks. I made most of them, they can't help but listen to me." Great. Now your boss was babysitting you to stop you getting brutally murdered by the undead. This job just got better and better.
"I didn't really bring anything with me, no. I was hoping I could go out, maybe look around the neighbourhood for somewhere to grab something. All I have is this." You produced the banana that you had brought in case of a potassium emergency.
"Well you can just go on ahead and eat that, dear." Max's face was eager, his voice low and sinful and you rolled your eyes at the edge of hypnotic intent lingering around it.
"I'm fine, Mr. Phillips." A horrible thought suddenly struck as you tried to pretend that the rhythmic thumping now occurring against the door wasn't bothering you in the slightest. "So if I need the bathroom..."
Max bowed slightly. "I would be more than happy to escort you." Ah fuck. This day really did blow.
Next Chapter
#max phillips fanfiction#max phillips x reader#max phillips x you#max phillips#bloodsucking bastards#bloodsucking bastards fanfic
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And also, for @trashy-artist-here because you prompted something similar. I hope you both like this!!💕
On AO3
The building they're visiting this time isn't such a scary place in Shane's opinion, but then again, anything they have visited so far was tipping towards the gross, dusty, and way too old end of the scale rather than the spooky one.
Sure, it's a long-closed down prison. And sure, the may have tortured and treated the people there like absolute garbage back in the '30s but it's more heartbreaking than anything in Shane's opinion.
But of course, Ryan doesn't think so, he gets lost in his head, psyching himself up, until every shadow, every little scratching sound is making the hair stand up on the back of his neck. Not that Shane was looking at Ryan's neck. (Alright, maybe he was looking a little.)
The point is, he's jumpy as all hell, and Shane finds it terribly amusing as always. His shoe scrapes over some debris, and the sound is ear piercing in the quiet, bouncing off of the bare walls.
Ryan cries out, his whole body jerks and Shane can't help himself, he throws his head back, letting out a surprised laugh, although he may feel a little bad about it.
"You're such a piece of shit, Shane!" Ryan groans and Shane loves the way his face heats up, from embarrassment. "I bet you did that on purpose, stop freaking me out, jackass!"
"Stop freaking out then!" Shane wheezes, and pats Ryan on the back, he lets out a little snort when Ryan flinches again, just slightly.
"You're as tense as a stick, man. Or like the stick is stuck up your ass."
"Shane! Fucking can't you just—" Ryan cuts himself off abruptly and he freezes. It's enough for Shane's smile to fall too and morph into actual concern.
He looks in the direction Ryan is staring at, but all he sees is a bunch of dust flying everywhere like someone just rushed through the hallway that's across the one they're standing in.
Huh.
Maybe someone left a window open, his brain supplies. Yeah, that must be it. And that's the simple thought process that goes through Shane's head every time something "unexplainable" happens.
His brain explains it perfectly well.
Ryan's, on the other hand, it seemed to shut down and reboot again.
"Dude, did you see that?" He asks and Shane would laugh at the fact that they're slowly becoming one of those fake ghost hunters on TV. If only Ryan wouldn't look so genuinely terrified.
"It was a guy, he looked like a doctor. He was— he was fucking terrifying. Holy shit I hope the chest cam—" he starts fidgeting with it right away, and Shane takes note of how much his hand is shaking. "It must've recorded it, right? He was fucking covered in blood, please tell me you saw it! Shane!"
The rushed and panicked sound of his name snaps Shane out if his thoughts and he's reaching forward without thinking. His hands land on Ryan's shoulders, gently squeezing.
Shane feels how tense his muscles are under his fingertips but for once he doesn't think about what else those muscles could do with him. He tucks that away for later when it's less inappropriate.
"I didn't see anything Ryan, calm down," he says gently and that definitely doesn't have the desired effect. But Shane's stupid mouth keeps running because of course he never knows when to shut the hell up. "It must've been just—"
"No, shut up! You always fucking do this," Ryan interrupts him abruptly and the words die in Shane's throat. "Don't try to explain it away, I know— I know what I saw, I'm not crazy, Shane."
His voice cracks and Shane realizes he damn stepped in it now. He needs to fix this as soon as possible.
"Hey, I believe, you, of course, I do. But you need to breathe, alright?" He tries and Ryan snorts like he doubts that. Like he doubts Shane would ever see eye to eye with him on the subject of ghosts.
"Tell me that you consider the possibility of it being a ghost then," Ryan asks and Shane wonders when things went so wrong. Was he really such an asshole about the whole ghost stuff?
He must be quiet for too long because Ryan shakes his head slightly.
"Whatever let's just go back to the crew," Ryan says quietly, and he looks so disappointed, Shane wants to slap himself for being such an idiot. Before he could say something, however, there is a set of loud footsteps coming from behind them.
Like someone is running towards them.
Shane spins around, but he doesn't see anything, and he gets distracted anyway because Ryan's loud yelp drowns out the last of the footsteps.
Moments later, a solid body is pressing against Shane's, and he needs a few seconds to process that it's Ryan's.
Normally, he would find it funny, the fact that Ryan is trying to climb him like a fucking tree. But he's not laughing now, because the warm, firm press of Ryan's muscles sends his heart flying up to his throat.
Ryan's arms wound around Shane's waist, and their bodies are lined up from knee to shoulders, with Ryan's face buried into the dip of Shane's shoulder. And Shane feels very hot all of a sudden.
He does wrap his arms around Ryan's shoulders when his brain comes back online again, and Ryan lets out a soft little laugh, breathing right into Shane's neck. It does not help whatsoever.
"I'm sorry. That scared me so fucking much, I think I physically can't move."
"Hey, it's okay. I'm here alright?" Shane asks, voice nothing but a scratchy whisper. He's proud he could get that out at the very least and extremely grateful for Ryan's face being tucked into his shoulder because Shane would surely die from embarrassment if Ryan would notice how red he has gotten.
"I know," Ryan laughs, it's a shaky sound, and Shane's hold tightens around him instinctively. They stand there for a heartbeat or two in a tangle of limbs, before Ryan starts slowly extracting himself from the hug.
Shane thinks that's that. They had a nice little moment of comfort and they'll never talk about it again, right? It's how they seemed to do things lately. Get sappy and tender and never speak of it again.
Well, Ryan had something else in mind entirely.
He doesn't go too far, and before Shane could realize that, he's already reaching up, having to stand on his tippy toes to effectively bury his fingers into Shane's hair. And then he tugs.
He tugs Shane all the way down to his eye level and when their lips meet in long, undoubtedly sloppy but fucking wonderful kiss, Shane thinks he might just be possessed or dreaming or both.
The kiss is a mess of tongues and teeth and Shane's back is dangerously close to cramping and he can't fucking breathe.
And yet, he still dives back for more and an embarrassingly whiny sound founds its way out from the back of his throat when Ryan's fingers tighten in his hair briefly.
They're both trying to catch their breath when they finally pull away and Shane is glad he's not the only one affected.
The sight of Ryan's flushed cheeks and kiss bitten lips, not to mention how dark his eyes appear to be even in the shitty lighting of the hallway.
That sight alone almost gets him to start kissing Ryan again but Shane can muster up some sort of self-control eventually.
Another make out session might be what they want right now, but it's most certainly not what they need.
The kiss doesn't get talked about, not even when they arrive back at their shared hotel room and take their respective showers to wash off the grime of the ancient building.
They exchange nothing more but quiet words about Unsolved, the shoot, about Watcher. Shane glances over at Ryan, watches him text their friends, and then stare at his chest camera — now discarded on top of Ryan's suitcase — like it personally offended him.
"Are you thinking about looking at the footage?" Shane asks, and Ryan is seemingly grateful he didn't have to be the one to break the awkward silence.
"Yeah, maybe," Ryan hums and then looks away with a sigh, right at Shane, unfortunately. Shane squirms under his gaze, slightly, but probably just enough for Ryan to notice. "I don't want to deal with it right now. I'm exhausted, this was just too much for today.
Shane only lets out a little noise of agreement, and he wonders if what they had done was too much, if Ryan has meant to include that also.
"Do you want to, maybe...?" Ryan trails off, nodding towards his bed and probably hoping that Shane will get what he means.
And well, Shane can be infuriatingly oblivious, but this, he understands. His mouth feels paper dry when he speaks. "Yeah, sure."
He stands, rubbing a hand down his face because he doesn't know what to do with them otherwise. He's already dressed in his pajamas — they both are, actually — soft sweatpants and worn-out cotton shirts; so it's not difficult to grab his pillow and climb into Ryan's bed, right next to him.
And that's when trouble begins because Ryan is taking his shirt off and Shane's heart surges so hard in his chest he almost thinks it will fall right out. Is it not enough to have to sleep with the possibly not-so-unrequited love of his life, but he has to be shirtless too?
Shane got cursed by whatever was or wasn't at that damn place he's sure of it.
"Uhh, if you mind I can put it back on," Ryan tells him because Shane had been staring like it's nobody's business.
"No, no you're fine. I mean it's fine." Shane chokes out and he's a little bit mad at himself for getting so flustered when it comes to guys he thinks are cute. Especially when it's Ryan.
Luckily, Ryan laughs, and even if it's kind of annoying, Shane happily takes that over the awkwardness.
Shane speaks, quietly, after they turned the lights off, and got under the covers. The bed is fairly small, so Shane really had to huddle more close to Ryan than what they would've been comfortable with years ago.
"For the record, I don't think you're crazy."
"Well, that's good to know." Ryan laughs softly, but there is an uncomfortable undertone to it and Shane doesn't like it one bit.
"I'm serious, Ryan. I might not have the opinion it was a ghost, but you know I'd never think you're crazy. And if you think I would, well— I'm a shitty friend then, and I'm sorry about that."
"No, you're not, Shane. I think I'm just insecure. It's a whole other issue." Ryan admits and Shane is too curious for his own good.
"What other issue?"
"Do you think we should talk about what happened in the prison?" Ryan asks instead, not even being subtle about changing the subject and Shane decides to let it go for now.
"The kiss?"
"No, the fucking ghost— yeah the kiss, dude!" Ryan scoffs, and Shane has no brain to mouth filter apparently.
"It wasn't a ghost—"
"Shane, don't fucking start this again I swear—"
"Look I'm just saying—"
"Shut up, Shane!" Ryan wheezes, because they keep talking over each other and they're being so stupid. Shane wheezes with him and he suddenly feels like being bold. It's dark and Ryan can't see him too well, so fuck it.
"Shut me up then."
There is a beat of silence and then the rustling of sheets as Ryan is sliding closer to press his mouth hotly over Shane's again. Shane's hands find their way up on Ryan's back and there is a slight tremble to the movement when Ryan swipes his tongue over his. Shane is almost dizzy with it all, the available skin he's allowed to touch now, the smell of Ryan's shower gel. He almost feels like he's dreaming.
"We really should be talking about this," Ryan murmurs muffled by Shane's lips, minutes or hours later, none of them truly know at this point.
"S'fine, nothing to talk about." Shane rasps, trying to tug him back into another mind-melting kiss but Ryan snorts against his lips and it should be a little gross but Shane adores him too much to care.
"Shane, come on, we gotta. We're adults." Ryan reasons and nips at Shane's chin as he kisses his way down from his lips.
"Fuck being an adult," Shane scoffs but pulls away just enough to take in Ryan's flushed cheeks and bright eyes. And that smile, the sunshine smile Shane loves the most.
"Hard same but seriously. Is this just a hookup? What are we doing?" Ryan asks sheepishly and he looks so open, Shane wants to hide, to avoid being as open as Ryan is with him. Because ghosts might not spook him, but emotional vulnerability sure fucking does.
He has nowhere to hide though, and he thinks that maybe, just maybe if he throws all caution to the wind, things might turn out okay. He does it all the time, he did it when he agreed to do Unsolved with Ryan, and he did it when they were making Watcher.
"I really like you, Ryan. I don't know how not to sound like a teenager when I say this, but— well it's true." Shane says eventually, forcing himself to keep eye contact as his hold tightens in the fabric of Ryan's shirt. This is just about the most difficult thing he's ever done and look at him, he's powering through it like a champ.
"How about breaking the rules we established in the podcast and say I love you? What do you say to that, big guy?" Ryan suggests, softly, and Shane gladly watches the fear and anxiety dissolve from his eyes when he answers. They're both taking leaps of fate today it seems like.
"Fuck the rules, also."
Shane flips them over, making Ryan laugh and let out an exaggerated oof sound and then he's kissing Ryan again, Shane murmuring I love you back against Ryan's lips.
#shyan#skeptic believer#shyan fic#shyan fanfiction#fanfictions#prompt fill#prompt#i wanted to answer this as an ask but i broke it with the read more#thanks tumblr#trashy-artist-here
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With each scuff of Caroline's shoes against the grime covered pavement as she drew closer once he'd called her, he could feel the dread that had made a home in her stomach, and it too felt familiar to him. He'd been the cause of it more than once. This time was different and he knew that, but he also knew how badly that bridge had been burned. It was hard to earn back the trust he'd sent up in flames.
Watching her, he was glad to see that at least her mercy and remorse only seemed to be extended to the living ....or rather, truly living. While she worked the mechanical bastard over, Ryat forced his power down, his attention not really snapping back to his partner until she more or less wasted the thing, seeing he wouldn't talk. That was a shame ... He'd really been hoping to find out at least something.
Caroline's change in demeanor was immediate and it piqued his curiosity, though he was still annoyed at their lack of info. That was ... Until his words sank in. Until Caroline's realization forced him to see a very real truth. They really did have eyes everywhere.... Whoever they were, and they thought he was one of them.
He caught his bag of surprises easily enough and hoisted it's weight onto his shoulders.
"A live broadcast? Wait.... Isn't that a good thing? Even if they are streaming to somewhere, shouldn't everything they just saw prove to them I'm not one of them?" He knew though, as soon as he said it, that it didn't help their situation. Regardless of whether they thought that he was one of them still or not, he'd killed their own, and his powers, he was sure, would still make him a person of interest.
He'd wanted to take the mechanical creature apart and see what made it tick. However, with this newfound knowledge that it could be broadcasting to anywhere, he decided against it.
The last of his power receded into his form just as a sigh was exhaled, fingers combing through his hair. Looking over his companion, he couldn't help but think maybe she wasn't ready to keep booking it. They needed to lay low, but they couldn't go too far. Just enough away they'd be out of the line of fire if his buddies decided he was worth coming to retrieve.
Crimson eyes closed a second before he started feeling out the area around them, searching for any signs of life, and surprisingly there were plenty.
"Our best bet is to move Southeast," he commented after a moment, his gaze trailing out of the garage and into that direction. It had the best beings... That he could feel anyway. The whole city was built up. A concrete jungle to get lost in and hopefully shake whatever enemies they'd made.
As they started their trek to a destination unknown, all the demon could think of was how badly he wanted one of his cigarettes and maybe several bottles of the moonshine he'd seen back in Diamond City. It was no secret the demon thrived on chaos, but his was normally self made. Right now he just felt stuck in a whirlwind he didn't know how to escape from. Part of it though, he felt was attributed to the emotions he could feel radiating from the hunter at his side. She was like another bomb just waiting to go off. One wrong move....
He shoved the thought away for now as he focused on their surroundings again. Snow and ice crunched beneath their feet, and the wind continued to berate them just as it had been before. The green hue that had seemed to mask the moon earlier in the night had devoured the whole sky as thunder and lightning clapped in the distance. It was a hell of a sight. The whole world bathed in an iridescent green glow. It didn't bother him in the least, but he hoped Caroline could hold up long enough to get them somewhere with four walls and a roof.
Dogmeat whined uncomfortably, probably from both the radiation and the loud clicking coming from the pipboy that was hanging around Caroline's wrist. Without wanting to waste anymore time, the demon's eyes scanned over the buildings they were passing until they landed on one that wasn't a crumbling mess. The sign outside read :Government Supply Depot: and he wondered just what, if anything, might be left inside.
Making the split second decision when he didn't feel anything inside, he nodded toward it.
"In there," he instructed, ushering in both the dog and the hunter once they got through the rusty, dilapidated chain link fence. Giving the place a once-over, he was confident that he had been right. It was empty. Shutting the cold metal door behind them, he locked it before setting his bag down with a loud thud. The little concrete room was nothing special, but it would protect against the storm outside, and at least for tonight, provide a place for the human to sleep.
Up until this point, he had still been ready to make a plan. He wanted to figure out their next move, but right now he was just glad for the moment to breathe. He knew that here and now wasn't the time.... They were both on edge, and he was more than sure that his companions were exhausted.
"We won't move any more tonight," he promised, his attention shifting to her. "How badly are you hurt?"
@inviciousx
nuclear winter of our discontent
Fractured strips of moonlight shone down from the caving ceiling as Ryat started mixing several ingredients into a metal bowl he’d stolen from an old diner he’d passed on the way out here. Locals in the wastes called this the Old North Church. He called it a resurrection ground. His mind drifted as he added a bit of purified water into the mixture and pulled out his blade. Slashing it across his hand, he let a few drops of blood fall before he could feel it start healing. The demon couldn’t help but replay the last twenty-four hours in his head. It had been more excitement than the last two centuries combined. Latin fell from his lips as his gaze moved over the pile of old bones laid over the debris in the floor. God he hoped he’d dug the right grave. As flesh began to form over bone, he began to hold even the tiniest bit of hope that be wouldn’t be alone anymore.
#nuclear winter#the rose on your coffin door || ryat x caroline#you got a hollow point smile; caroline
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