waydcwnwego-archive

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This blog has been archived and being rebooted over HERE.

[waydcwnwego-archive]

This blog has been archived and being rebooted over HERE.

[waydcwnwego-archive]

This blog has been archived and being rebooted over HERE.

[waydcwnwego-archive]

This blog has been archived and being rebooted over HERE.

[waydcwnwego-archive]

This blog has been archived and being rebooted over HERE.

[waydcwnwego-archive]

This blog has been archived and being rebooted over HERE.

[waydcwnwego-archive]

This blog has been archived and being rebooted over HERE.

[waydcwnwego-archive]

This blog has been archived and being rebooted over HERE.

[waydcwnwego-archive]

This blog has been archived and being rebooted over HERE.

[waydcwnwego-archive]

This blog has been archived and being rebooted over HERE.

[waydcwnwego-archive]

This blog has been archived and being rebooted over HERE.

[waydcwnwego-archive]

Independent Fandomless Urban Fantasy/Supernatural Roleplay Blog.

written by Eva since 2014 rebooted in 2021 (but still a work in progress)

Rules • Muses • Memes • Wishlist

[waydcwnwego-archive]

Still a huge work in progress and I’m still woking hella overtime (but less than I was) but this blog is now archived (to be deleted eventually) and Jess and the rest of my trash babies have moved here.

Independent Fandomless Urban Fantasy/Supernatural Roleplay Blog.

written by Eva since 2014 rebooted in 2021 (but still a work in progress)

Rules • Muses • Memes • Wishlist

[waydcwnwego-archive]

@melsworldofmuses​

Lena had been trying to avoid some asshole that couldn’t take a hint from the moment she walked into the bar, not even the lie of ‘I have a boyfriend’ worked. So, instead of digging her knee into the bastard’s groin as she felt the urge to do, she allowed him to follow her over to the bar. Once there, she caught the eye of the bartender. “Hi, honey,” she said with a smirking smile before proceeding to nearly climb over the bar counter to grab the bartender by the collar of his shirt and plant quite a big kiss on his lips. As she kissed him, words were discreetly muttered, whispered so low that only his ears would hear, “He won’t leave me alone.”

       “Hey...?” There’d been all of two full seconds of eye contact before hands were reaching, grabbing, and a woman he’d never met before (though he did wonder, later, if he’d seen her in the bar before) was hauling herself up onto the bartop to get at him. He stiffened, put his hands on her shoulders with every intend of pushing her away. Surely she was drunk. Had to be drunk. Who does that?

       Then she spoke. And then he understood. Say no more, he thought. This we could work with. It wouldn’t be his first time playing fake boyfriend to come to the rescue of some damsel (what was the male equivalent of damsel?) in distress, and it wouldn’t be his last. It was part of the bartender’s code, buried somewhere in the fine print. Under ‘additional duties’ it would read ‘fake boyfriend to deter drunk dumbasses that wouldn’t take no for an answer’ and he did it well, if he did say so himself.

       The hands on the woman’s shoulders instead squeezed before wrapping his arms around her smaller frame to help haul her the rest of the way over the bar to stand on his side. The whole time he was looking down at her, a convincingly fake smile on his face, he kept the creep in his peripheral. “Hey, babe,” he greeted her warmly, all charm and sweetness. Then Nathan lifted his head, looked the man square in the eye with none of the warmth from a moment ago. “Is there a problem?”

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Send “ALT + muse name” for a face-claim I’ve considered for one of my muses.

[waydcwnwego-archive]

       The walkies had lost juice days ago. The tiny portable generator had run out of fuel not long before but it had been warm enough to spend a few nights without heat so refueling the thing had become second on their list of most important things when the last of their food ran out. That meant that Jess had been left home while Hopper went out to scavenge without any way to contact him or to know if he had found trouble, and he clearly had.

       ‘I’m ok’ wasn’t a good enough answer, not with the way things were. As soon as he had returned, she was on her feet, ignoring the small jolt of pain that shot of her leg when she stood and in an instant she had reached him. Near frantically, she started tugging and pulling at his clothes, checking for any new holes or tears, and any cuts or scrapes or bites on his skin. Jess checked every bit of exposed skin, anywhere she could without completely stripping him down, and didn’t stop to breathe when she found nothing serious.

       “Be more careful next time.” Her words were harsh, but there was a look of relief in her eyes as she turned away to dig through her own pack for a can opener.

“is that blood on your shirt?”

Post-Apocalyptic Meme || @waydcwnwego

Goddammit.

All Jim'd wanted had been an uneventful run for supplies, but of course, fate worked with different ideas. A lone straggler caught the former chief off-guard and he'd had no choice but to take it down. Back home, he'd been hoping to clean himself up before Jess caught sight of the mess: from collar to hem, his shirt was coated in a layer of gore — gone a rusty shade already, rather than brilliant crimson. A splatter slashed across the top of Hop's jeans as well.

And there was redness on his neck that looked suspiciously like a series of fingertips, applied with much pressure to the skin. He lifted a hand up to cup his throat at the memory of the kerfuffle that had produced the marks.

“ — Yeah. One of those... things, zombies, whatever... got a li'l too close for comfort. ” Hopper rifled through his knapsack, and found a can of mixed fruit, tossed it over to Jess. 

“ I'm OK, though. And we'll be eating like kings for a while. ”

Well. Kings of nonperishables, at least.

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i pray that aug, sep, oct, nov and dec are all months full of growth, blessings, productivity, new doors open and opportunities