#I gotta draw them proper eventually

[luck-of-the-drawings]

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saw alot of comments on prev pages; saying 'i HATE that mean teacher! im gonna FIGHT HIM!!' & i LOVE the energy!! it WOULD be nice. to have that catharsis. but the story of young tidestrider is Not one of catharsis. it is a story of being so small and so special and sucking so bad.

[not-neverland06]

How About a Nuke?

Part VIII / Part IX

(Completed) Series Masterlist

Cooper Howard x fem!reader, The ghoul x fem!reader A/N: PLEASE READ, we have reached the end of their journey and I am so sad/happy/excited about it. I don’t even know how to feel honestly. I just want to thank everyone who has commented, messaged or reblogged this story. Your kind words and funny little depressed memes have been really uplifting for me. I was actually considering just giving up on this blog when I posted the first chapter. I haven’t had much inspiration lately or interaction I feel like, and you all have helped reignite that spark within me. Summary: There’s something keeping you tied to Cooper Howard, an invisible string wrapped around you both. You’ve fought against it as long as you could but he’s not gonna let you fight for much longer.

It’s been a month and the bounty on her head gets bigger everyday. Normally the compound hires privately, they don’t like going through the agencies. He figures with Sylvie dead they’re struggling to find a new leader and they’re falling apart. Or they’re just desperate for her head on a stick. 

He sees her face everywhere, crudely drawn images of her varying in their accuracy. In some she has a hat like his on, in others her nose is the wrong shape, or her eyes are all wrong. No one seems to have a good grasp on who she is. Out of curiosity and a strange need to know she’s still alive, he’s asked around. 

There are different rumors as to where she’s hiding out. Some think she’s taken to hiding out in the caves near Filly. Anyone with half a brain knows that the area’s overrun by irradiated bears and other mutated freaks. 

There are those that say they’ve seen her wandering through the sands. Following that lead had led him nowhere. He doesn’t know where she is and it’s driving him insane. She’s like a constant itch in the back of his mind that he just can’t scratch. Days and nights are spent thinking about her and he hates it. 

He’s not sure what he’d do when he does find her. Whether he’d shoot her to repay the favor or just tie her up to keep her from leaving again. He’s conflicted on how he feels about her. He’s bothered that he feels anything towards her at all. And he knows that when she shot him, she was shooting to kill. 

She had no way of knowing that he would heal from that bullet. She’d watched him bleed out on the ground and left him for dead. He was impressed, as much as he wanted to be mad, he was almost proud in a way. 

Throughout their tumultuous lives and times together she’d always had to be guided by him. He’d shown her the ways of whatever world they were living in. She’d relied on him and he enjoyed it. The time had to come when eventually she wouldn’t need him anymore. 

It’s outside of Filly that he finds the most accurate poster of her so far. She looks like she did in their first movie together. A proper outlaw, wanted all across the Wastelands for her crimes against a bunch of sick fucks. If he could kill Sylvie again, he would. He’d kill all of them. 

Not that he’s condemning them because of what the compound’s doing. He’s dabbled in organ trade before, eaten people, he’s done a lot of fucked up shit. But he draws the line at trying to hurt her. He’s the only one who should be allowed to fuck with her.

He takes the poster down and whistles softly at the price under her name. It’s enough to keep him happy for a longtime. If he never wanted to take on another bounty he wouldn’t have to. Course, he was never in this for the money. A man’s gotta have something to entertain himself with at the end of the world. 

He wonders if she’s even still alive. Maybe a Deathclaw got her a day after she left him behind. He could have walked past her corpse and never even known it. He folds the poster up and slips it in his bag. He doesn’t know why he bothers keeping it. Possibly because it’s the closest thing to her that he’s got, but he doesn’t feel like lingering on that thought for long. 

He tugs his hat lower on his head and heads through the tunnel leading to Filly. He’s caused a lot of issues here over the years. Usually he kills most of the people who could identify him as an instigator, but he doesn’t feel like pushing his luck today. He needs more supplies and he knows Ma June won’t sell to him if he causes a fight beforehand. 

It’s louder than normal today, more people rushing around. They’re all congregating around something in the center of the marketplace. He turns to the left, heading up the stairs to try and get a better look at what’s got everyone so excited. 

“They found her!” A boy shouts, fidgeting in his spot next to him. He glances at him from under his hat and the boy pales before scurrying away from him. His lips turn up in a cruel grin and he finally gets a good look at what’s happening. 

She’s kneeling in the middle of the marketplace, two Knights on either side of her. He’s more surprised by the fact that she actually has picked up a hat in her time away from him. 

She seems to be playing into the outlaw routine more than he thought she would. 

You’re embarrassed, honestly, that you let these two idiots capture you. Them and their useless little squires. 

You’ve found odd jobs through the Brotherhood when they need assistance looking for relics of the old world. Though, you’re really not sure how much use a toaster oven can be to them, but they pay good money for it. 

Once your bounty was posted and they figured out who you were, though, that stopped being useful. You can’t even hunt bounties because the agencies would just grab you and turn you over to the compound.

They clearly didn’t give a shit about women, you don’t get why they’re making this whole Sylvie situation such a big deal. 

You had to bribe Ma June by buying some of her junk, but eventually she’d helped you find some work in Filly. The people here are stupid enough that they don’t recognize you when they see you. Most of them are high or drunk so the only thing you have to worry about is wandering hands and not stepping in the middle of their brawls. 

From the patrons of the bar you hear stories about yourself. How you slaughtered the entire compound, even the children, which is so far from the truth you can’t help but scoff. Or how you apparently slept with a ghoul and you're carrying his mutant baby. 

You don’t even know where they got that one from. 

They also seem to think you wander through the sands, shooting anyone who gets in your way. It’s a comfort that no one seems to have caught onto you yet. But it’s also disheartening to know that all that’s left of civilization is a bunch of psychopathic idiots. 

What happened to natural selection?

You know your stint in Filly is up when two Knights walk in, their squires struggling to carry their bags behind them. You pull your hat further over your head and duck behind the bar. You try to keep your back to them and let the old man, Marley, who runs the bar deal with them. 

His shaky voice is cautious as he greets them, “What are Knights doing so far out here?”

One of their distorted voices rings out through the, now quiet, bar. “We got bored. Wanted to shoot some shit.”

You roll your eyes and focus on cleaning the cup in front of you. You spit into it, not enough water to properly clean it, and scrub at it with a stained towel. Marley hums, clearly displeased with the answer. You can hear his tottering steps approaching you and wince, praying he’s not going to do what you think he is. 

He tugs on your shirt with a shaky hand and you slump forward in defeat. “Deal with these jackasses,” he mutters, taking drinks over to a different table. 

You pour the only alcohol the bar has into two cups and keep your head down as you approach. “Heard that a woman took over for Knight Damien.”

One of them scoffs and shakes his armored head, “What the fuck is this world coming to?” You don’t know how they’re planning on drinking their liquor with the helmets on but you’re not going to ask stupid questions. You drop the cups in front of them, but your hand slips and one of them tips over into a Knight’s lap. 

“I’ve got it, sire.” Their squire lunges forward and begins vigorously scrubbing their armor. Your face curls up in distaste and you’re about to walk away when a metal hand grips your wrist. 

“Holy shit, it’s her!” Oh, you’re so screwed. 

They’ve got a fucking leash on you, it’s humiliating. The scarred and dirt-covered faces of the citizens of Filly surround you. They’re all leering, shouting at you and begging the Knight’s to share in the bounty. But the Knight’s aren’t listening, they’re just congratulating each other. 

“What do you think they’ll give us?”

One of them shoves their squire and he goes toppling into his large bag, feet flailing in the air. “Hopefully better fucking squires. I’m getting sick of this one’s stupid face.” 

The squire kneels down and shouts in a shaking voice, “I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you, sire!” God, you really hate these people. You wished they would just shoot you. Having to sit here and listen to them talk was making your brain go numb. 

The Knight’s distorted laugh rings out through his helmet. The other one glances over at you, “What do you think she did? I’ve never seen the compound this pissed off.”

“I dunno. Hey!” You know he’s talking to you, that they want an answer, you really don’t care to give them one. “What’d you do?” They stare at you for a moment and then he sighs when you don’t respond. He shoves his squire towards you and the kid goes stumbling over his feet. “Make her talk.”

He nods rapidly, head bobbing up and down. “Of course, sire.” Your hands twitch to your side and you give him a wicked grin as he approaches. 

He’s debating going down there and trying to help her when the first shot goes off. He doesn’t even see it happen, he just watches as one of the squires drops to the ground. 

Those who don’t want to get caught in the crossfire are quick to move away from the area, hiding in their shops or shoving past him to get through the tunnel. He heads down the stairs, taking his time and trying to figure out where the shot came from. 

The second squire moves towards her and his head flies back, a hole between his eyes and his brains splattering across the ground. One Knight shoves the other one and points at their dead squire’s, “Did you not take her fucking gun?”

He’s been in those suits. He remembers how it felt, the power you get from being in them. How they make you feel like a big man. He also remembers how fucking slow they could be. She’s on her feet and running for cover before they can even start to grab her. 

She dives behind a stall and tugs a knife out of her boot, sawing at the ropes around her wrists. He can’t reach her before the fighting starts. Someone in the remaining crowd shouts, “Grab her! Get the bounty!” And all hell breaks loose. 

Someone runs at him and he shoots them before they can grab him. Shots start going off, the Knight’s mowing down anyone who tries to swoop in on their bounty. Everyone else is shooting blindly, just trying to get rid of the competition so they can claim her bounty as their own. 

He ducks under the hail fire and slides next to her as she’s reloading her gun. She glances over at him and frowns, “Didn’t I kill you?”

He hears a shout and watches as some half-feral woman charges at them. She shoots her dead and turns back to him. He gives her a wry smile, “You want to do this now, sweetheart?”

She peers over her cover and surveys the chaos going on around them. She sighs and glances back at him, “Why aren’t you dead?” 

He tugs one of his specially made bullets out of his bag and loads it into his gun. He lifts himself to his knees and aims at the weak spot on the Knight’s chest plate. They both watch as blood explodes out of the neck of the power armor, the Knight’s friend cussing as he watches him die. 

“Next time,” she turns to look at him, “aim for the head,” he instructs. She glares at him before making her way to Ma June’s shop. He follows, not willing to let her out of his sight again, and she ducks behind the barrels of supplies in front of the shop. 

“Clearly,” she winces as the Knight’s gun starts firing off again, “I’m not making it out of here on my own.” They dive to the side as bullets rip through the barrels they’re leaning against. They’re not gonna have cover for much longer.

He grins at her, “Sounds like you’re asking me for a favor, darling.”

The sounds of screams and bodies dropping is nearly deafening. A few feet away a bullet catches a man in the throat and he drops to the ground. They watch as he chokes on his blood and tries to claw his way to safety. Steps rapidly approach them and she turns to shoot a different man, his body dropping an inch away from them. 

He turns back to her and his lips turn down, “After you tried to kill me? You want my help,” he laughs at her and she glares. 

Before she can speak a voice rings out above them, “I got her!” He shoots at the woman on the upper level above them, half of her leg gets blown off and she tumbles over the railing, narrowly missing the pair. 

He turns back to her, “You’re asking a lot, darling.”

“You’ve fucking shot me, twice. I’m not asking you for anything.” Her lips turn down in a sneer and she looks at him like the very sight of him disgusts her. “I don't need your help. I don't need you.” She glances back over her shoulder, surveying the gore and the bullets flying around them. She checks her gun and he sees just how little ammo she has left. “I’ll handle this myself.” She snaps the chamber of her gun closed and moves to get up. He grabs her wrist and yanks her back down, ignoring the angry expression on her face. 

“Look, you might not want my help, but you need it, sweetheart. Just stay here.” 

You watch as Cooper runs off, his guns firing before he’s even fully standing. You only wait a second before you’re running into Ma June’s and out her back door. She shouts at you as you barrel through her shop, knocking over her displays and shelves, but you can’t waste any time getting the hell out of dodge. 

You’re surprised Cooper was stupid enough to think you would actually wait for him. The Knight’s had called for an air evac out of Filly and if you stay there any longer you’ll be back in the compound before you can blink. 

You’ve spent a month evading them, you’re not about to let yourself get caught because of Cooper. 

You can’t believe he’s not dead. It’s not like you’ve been losing sleep over killing him, but it’s been hard to cope with the fact that you killed the man that was once the love of your life. Seeing him again, though, you wished you had shot him in his smug face. 

You’d forgotten, in the time apart, just how condescending he could be. He seemed to think you needed him to survive. You didn’t. 

At best, he provided the comfort of company. Poorly. 

Despite how much he undervalued you, you were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. You didn’t need him to save you. You would have figured your way out of there on your own, eventually. You’ve handled yourself a month in the Wastelands without him. You learned how to carve an existence for yourself out here and you did it without help. 

You race into the woods beyond Filly, putting as much distance between you and the sounds of fighting as quickly as you can. The trees around you begin to shake, the ground vibrating and a swirl of dirt and leaves rises into the air and whips you in the face. 

You look up and begin pushing yourself faster. One of the Brotherhood’s Vertibird’s is circling Filly. “This is not a hostile landing! Please remain calm!” You blame your distraction on the announcement. 

You would have heard him coming up behind you if you hadn’t been listening to whatever the Brotherhood was saying. Rope loops around your arms and you’re yanked backwards. Your head thumps painfully hard against the forest floor, rocks scraping you as you’re dragged across the ground. 

Cooper’s face appears over yours, a cruel smile on his lips. “Now, this seems awfully familiar.” He walks around you, boots straddling your waist and grabs you by the front of your shirt, yanking you back to your feet. “I thought I told you to stay put, sweetheart.”

You frown at him, shoving your leg up between his. He groans, doubling over while you shimmy out of the loose rope. “Honestly, after all the shit that’s happened you think I’m gonna listen to anything you say?” You step back from him, brushing the dirt off your clothes as best you can. 

You sigh in frustration when you realize that when the Knight’s had grabbed you, you’d lost your supplies. Cooper looks up at you and scoffs, “Missing something?” You eye his bag on the ground and start to go for it. He pulls the hammer of his gun back and you glance towards him. You’d forgotten what a quick draw he could be.

He’s fully recovered now, eyes narrowed in on you and gun pointed right at your chest. “See, a bullet to the chest might not kill me, but I reckon it’ll do a hell of a lot of damage to you. Why don’t you back up for me, sweetheart?”

You let go of his bag and slowly back away from him. He keeps his gun trained on you and stoops down, throwing his bag back over his shoulder. Your eyes dart to the hat on his head and your lips curl up when you spot the hole you’d put in it. 

Two hundred years and he’s kept that hat nearly pristine, you take no small amount of pride in being the one to ruin it. 

“The Brotherhood will be swarming these woods in a few minutes. They’re not gonna be too happy about one of their Knight’s being dead. Come with me, I can help you out.”

You scoff, “Like I’ll ever trust you again. You’ve shot me, sold me, and left me for dead, Cooper.”

He huffs, eyes narrowing and lips curled in a sardonic grin. You can tell he’s getting pissed off. “The choice is yours,” he tucks his gun back in his holster and turns on his heels. You watch in surprise as he stalks away from you. You had fully expected him to put up more of a fight, it almost hurts that he left so easily again. 

Then you hear the sounds of orders being shouted behind you. Metal creaking and stomping through the underbrush and you realize he hadn’t left but forced you between a rock and a hard place. You could follow him or let yourself get captured by the Brotherhood. 

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. You risk a glance over your shoulder and spot a rapidly approaching party of squires. You run in the direction Cooper went and find him leaning casually against a tree, a satisfied look on his face when he spots you. “Don’t say a word,” you warn, shoving past him. 

He glances at her from across the fire and finds himself feeling almost at ease for the first time in a month. It’s been a while since he’s looked up to actually find her staring back at him. She might look like she wants to kill him, but she’s here. 

“You have to admit, we make a pretty good team, darling.”

She gives him an unimpressed look, “Yeah, Cooper, we’re so great at murdering people.” She looks over to the dead bodies of the raiders they’d stolen this camp from and shakes her head. “I forgot how much death you surround yourself with.”

“I surround myself with? Might I remind you, you fired the first shot, sweetheart.” Granted, he had shoved her out of her hiding spot and given her no choice about it. 

Her head shoots up and she glares at him, “You made me!” She opens her mouth and he grins. He enjoys provoking her like this. Even if the last time he had she’d shot him because of it, but it’s fun to rile her up. She always gets so pissed off, it entertains him to no end. 

To his disappointment, she closes her mouth and shakes her head, choosing not to engage with him. He sighs and rips off a piece of jerky. “When did you turn into such a wet fucking blanket?”

Her eyes flare with anger, despite that, he can hear how hurt she really is. “Maybe when you sold me!”

He tilts his head and runs his tongue over his teeth, “You ever gonna let that go? I told you it was a mistake. How was I supposed to know they were gonna breed you like a prize pig?”

She scoffs, the noise high pitched and shocked. She shakes her head and stares at him with wide eyes, “You are unbelievable.” He shrugs and takes a swig from the flask he’d stolen off one of the raiders. He’s not sure how they make their alcohol, or if they trade for it, but it’s fucking disgusting. He frowns at the flask and drains the rest of it before tossing it into the woods behind him. 

She sighs and runs a hand over her face, her voice tired as she asks, “What’s the plan here, Cooper?” 

He picks at his teeth and shakes his head, “With what?”

She leans against the log behind her and gestures at herself. “With me. What, are you going to wait for me to pass out so you can tie me up and send me back to the compound? I’ve seen the price on my head. I know how valuable I am to everyone in the Wastelands.”

He doesn’t know why what she’s saying bothers him so much but it does. “You really think I’d send you back there?”

Her face is devoid of anything as she responds, “Why wouldn’t you?”

It’s the bluntness with which she asks that, that bugs him. Like there’s no other possibility but him betraying her. Taking advantage of her while she was vulnerable and weak and then handing her over to the people who want her dead. He wouldn’t do that to her. 

He didn’t go through all this fucking trouble to find her just to lose her again. He wants to tell her as much but she’s on her feet and grabbing her bag before he can. “Look, I appreciate the help today, but I’m not interested in starting this partnership back up again. I think it’s better if we just part ways.”

He whips his gun out before he can think about what he’s doing. She freezes, still bent over and eyes his gun warily. “I’m afraid that’s not an option, darling.” He can’t let her leave again. And maybe this isn’t the best way to go about it, but he doesn’t know how else to stop her. 

“You gonna shoot me, Cooper?” She whispers, her own hand twitching for the revolver at her side. He stands up and grabs her wrists, ignoring the way she struggles against him. He binds her hands with his rope and he sits back down, 

“I’m not gonna turn you in and I’m not gonna shoot you. But you’re not getting out of here that easy, sweetheart.”

Her eyes narrow in on his, her fists clenched tightly in anger. “I killed two men with my hands bound today. What’s stopping me from killing you?”

He shrugs, “Nothing. There’s nothing stopping you, just like there’s nothing stopping me. But I’m not killing you, am I? See,” he leans forward, “I’ve fought too hard and spent too much time looking after you to just let you go now. We’re in this together, whether you want it or not.”

Her lips split in a sneer and she throws herself down on the log. “You’re all the fucking same. You treat me like a goddamn dog that needs to be beat into submission. I’m not some misbehaving pet, Cooper!” Her eyes well up and her voice breaks, “You don’t get to just leash me and expect me to be okay with it.”

“I’m under no illusions that you’re happy here, sweetheart.” He runs a hand down his face and she shakes her head in disbelief. 

“Then just let me go,” she’s bordering on begging now and his chest squeezes the longer she stares at him with those pleading eyes of hers. It’s not something he’s familiar with, this feeling, this longing for her to just shut the fuck up and stop making this so damn difficult for him. 

“I can’t,” he mutters, wanting her to just drop it. 

“Why not?” She snaps, dropping any pretenses of trying to get him to sympathize with her.

He surges forward and grabs her by the jaw. Her eyes widen in shock and he smashes their lips together, teeth clashing painfully. There’s nothing gentle or sweet about this kiss. Her teeth are ripping into his scarred lips until the taste of copper is spreading on his tongue. He groans, digging his fingers into her cheeks until her lips part. 

His tongue probes against hers, the taste of his blood spreading into her mouth as well. She whimpers, the noise stirring something in him he’d forgotten about. There’s an old desire bubbling in him that’s making him blind to the rest of the world. He wants her, more than he ever wants to admit. 

He’s wanted her for a long time before this and they both know it. How hard he’s fought against it, against moments like these. He didn’t think he was still capable of this feeling, this desire for her. But it’s consuming. She’s ruining him, running him in circles until he thinks he’s going insane. 

But it’s not the same gentle passion it once was. It’s as twisted as he’s become. The desire to possess, consume, covet until she’s his and only his to do with what he wants. His teeth dig into her, letting her blood overcome the taste of his own. He groans, his free hand grabbing her waist and yanking her closer. 

She tastes so much sweeter than he does, he wants to rip a chunk of her off and eat her whole. He’s so distracted he doesn't even notice her pulling out her gun until he’s shooting back from her. He lands roughly on the forest floor and groans, hands clutched over the bleeding hole in his gut. Pain radiates through his abdomen and he rolls onto his side.

He looks up at her in shock. She’s spitting their blood onto the ground, her bound hands wiping at her lips. “Asshole,” she mutters. She tucks her gun back in her holster and looks over at him. 

His eyes are wide in disbelief as he struggles to sit back up. The movement causes another wave of pain and he hisses through gritted teeth, “You shot me!”

She rolls her eyes and gives him a blank look, “You’ll live.” He limps back to his own seat and lifts his shirt, watching as the hole closes over slowly and the blood stops leaking. She watches as he heals and sighs, “Unfortunately.” He tugs it back down and sighs at the state of his shirt. 

“My shirt won’t.” He digs a finger into the hole and tugs on it, watching as it rips wider. Two hundred years he’s kept these clothes, she ruins them in a month. Un-fucking-believable. 

“Sew it,” she gripes, still wiping at her mouth. “I can’t believe you just fucking kissed me,” she frowns and spits again, bits of crimson lingering on her lips. 

He sighs and leans back against the tree. “Felt right in the moment.” It did, he wants to do it again. They’re even now, they’ve both shot each other twice. No reason for her to shoot again. 

He wants to feel the way she shivers against him and moans into his mouth. She can be pissed all she wants but she kissed back, she can’t deny that. He’s sure if she wasn’t tied up she’d be a bit more receptive to him. Or maybe she just needs time to cool off after the whole compound incident, a month seems like a reasonable amount of time. Then again, women are so damn unreasonable. 

She tugs a knife out of her boot and positions it between her knees. She places it between her wrists and saws at the rope until it falls free. She slides the knife back in her boot and tosses the ruined rope at him. 

He catches it with a sigh and glances up at her. “Why didn’t you do that earlier?”

Her eyes are alight with a challenge, “I wanted to see if you would let me go yourself.” Well, clearly, he had failed her little test. “I wanted to see if there was even a possibility I could ever trust you again.”

He gives her an unimpressed look, slightly pissed off about his shirt. He never should have taught her how to shoot. If he’d known it would come back to bite him in the ass he wouldn’t have. “And?”

She gives him a disbelieving look and shakes her head. “And instead of letting me go, you kissed me.“ She throws her hands up in astonishment and glares at him. “Why the hell would you think that was a good idea?”

He smirks and revels in the way she shivers at the sight. “Well, darling, I’ve always been better with actions not words.”

“Yeah,” her voice is a challenge, eyes hard and jaw clenched tightly in frustration. He loves the sight of her all riled up. He loves it even more knowing he’s the one getting her like this. “What were you trying to tell me with that little display?”

He doesn’t answer her question, not wanting to just yet. “You liked it, didn’t you?” Her mouth snaps shut and she looks away from him. He laughs, leaning back and giving her a smug look. “You can be pissed off at me as much as you want, sweetheart,” the nickname rolls off his tongue like a taunt and she sneers at him. “But you want me just the same as you used to.”

“Do you like hurting me? Is that why you keep me around? You’ve been alone for two hundred years, Cooper. And for the majority of them you’ve harbored this hatred for me because you thought I had abandoned you just like everyone else.” 

Her words strike a place deep inside him that has him on edge. She knows what she’s doing. He’s forgotten, in his time with her, that in the same way he can get under her skin, she can do it too. She knows him just as well, she’s just always been the better half of their duo. She never feels the need to stoop to the level he does. But she’s doing it now and it feels like a kick in the teeth. 

“And I’m the only one that’s actually stuck by you.” She laughs, but there’s an underlying pain to it. She looks away from him and wipes at her cheeks and his fists clench within his gloves. “Is this your revenge? You think by torturing me you get back at everyone whose ever fucked you over. I’m sick of it, Cooper. I’m not gonna let you use me anymore.”

“I feel for you,” he forces the words out. He doesn’t want to tell her this. He shouldn’t have to tell her this. She should just stick with him, it’s what they’d always done, it’s how it always should be. Them, together. But she’s fighting against that, against him, so much that he doesn’t have a choice. 

She’s backed him into a corner he doesn’t know how to get out of. “In a way I haven’t in a very long time. I can’t let you go. Don’t you get that, sweetheart? We’re in this together.”

She shakes her head and he sighs. “No,” she looks at him and just shakes her head again. “No, you don’t love me, Cooper, or you don’t want me at least. I’m not the same girl I was, that’s what you’re after. That idea in your head, of us together, that’s who I was. You were right, the Wastelands changes you. I can’t be her for you and I don’t want to be.”

He chuckles and she shrinks away from the sound in suspicion. “Newsflash, darling, I’m not the same man. I loved you a long time ago, sweetheart, but I’m not capable of that anymore. Not for the girl you were, anyway.”

She nodded, her arms wrapped around herself. She looked like she accepted the answer, but he could see beyond that, could see that she thought he was rejecting her. It hurt, she could hate him as much as she wanted, but that still hurt her. “Good,” she muttered, “she’s gone.”

“Well, good.” She shrank further into herself and he grinned.  “You. You as you are now. That’s what I want. I don’t give a shit about who we were, the only person I’ve wanted since I’ve been out here has been you. You’re the only person I’ve met who can actually keep up with me. I don’t give a shit if anyone in this godforsaken Wasteland lives or dies, but I give a shit about you. You’re also the only one who can knock me on my ass.”

Her eyes darted to the hole in his shirt and a small grin came over her lips. “Haven’t been shot a lot, have you, cowboy?”

“No,” he chuckles again and grins at her, “I haven’t. Though, I am still pretty pissed about the hole in my hat.”

Her tone loses a bit of her playfulness and she glares at him, “You more than earned that.”

He acquiesces and holds up his hands in surrender, “Maybe.” She scoffs at that and rolls her eyes. “But I think we’re even now.”

“Barely,” she mutters, rubbing at the bruises on her wrists. She glances up at him and sighs, a surrender in her eyes. “But, it’s close enough now.”

He stands up and she eyes him warily as he throws himself down on the log next to her. He holds out a hand, “What do you say, darling, partners?”

She sighs and stares at his hand for a long time. He doesn’t mind, he leaves it there, hovering between them. He knows she’ll take it. “Deny it as much as you want but this is how it’s meant to be. You can keep fighting it or save us both some time.”

She reaches forward and tentatively wraps a hand around his, she uses it to yank him forward, their faces separated by an inch. “Shoot me again,” she whispers, “and I won’t miss the next time I knock you on your ass.”

“Oh shit,” you jump at the kickback on the rifle and nearly drop it to the ground. Cooper laughs and reaches around you, taking it from you. 

“Maybe I should have started you off with something with a little less kick to it.” He props the rifle against the tree and glances over to the cans you’d been shooting at. Well, you’d gotten one out of five at least. 

In all fairness this was the first time you’d ever handled a gun, you’re sure you’re doing fine for a beginner. He sucks on his teeth and looks at your targets. The serious look on his face cracks and he’s clearly trying to fight off laughing. 

You shove at his shoulder, smiling, “Shut up. I’ve never used one of these things before.”

He picks the rifle back up and starts laughing now, “You mean a gun?” 

You throw your arms in the air in defeat and slump into the patio chairs he’s dragged to the back of the cabin. “This is pointless, anyway.” He cocks the rifle and lifts it up to aim properly. In quick succession he knocks the remaining four cans off the fence. You roll your eyes at him, “Show off.”

He smiles and takes a seat next to you. You remain silent for a while, gazing across the yard and to the towering mountains across from his cabin. You appreciate him inviting you here. When you’d told him how overwhelmed you’d been feeling with all the new publicity you hadn’t expected him to drag you all the way out to his mountain home. 

You wouldn’t have accepted if you’d known it was just going to be you and him. You’d thought he was bringing his wife and kid, too. Spending a long weekend playing house with Cooper wasn’t going to do anything in getting rid of your crush. It was just getting worse the longer you were around him.

Waking up everyday and having him be the first person to greet you was going to send you into an early grave. You swear your heart’s never beat this fast around anyone else. He seems to be the only man who's ever had you feeling this head over heels. 

“I think it’s important you learn.”

You glance over at him, surprised at how serious he sounds. He’s still staring out at the mountains, but his gaze is distant. His mind is some place else. “Why?” You ask, voice quiet, afraid to spoil the moment.

He finally blinks, gaze darting down to his hands and the rifle still in them. “It’s easy for people to dismiss the war nowadays. They weren’t there, they didn’t watch as hundreds of good men and women died for them.” You frown, sometimes it’s easy to forget that he’d been fighting on the frontlines. He’s so good at being a socialite, you feel guilty that even you sometimes forget he was a soldier before he was Cooper Howard. 

His voice is heavy, the tension thick around the both of you. “They seem to think the war is over. I know it’s not, it’s just going to get worse. People can bury their heads in the sand as long as they want, but when the fighting is at their front door, what are they going to do?”

You reach out, hand covering his own. He finally looks up at you and you smile. “I appreciate it, Cooper.”

His eyes quickly look at your hand before looking back at you. “For what?”

You shrug, moving closer to him and lacing your fingers with his. You shouldn’t indulge yourself like this, but you can’t help it. He seems so sad and you only want to make him feel better. You just want to take care of him, the way he takes care of you. 

“For always looking out for me. You’re always there, I appreciate it. I appreciate you.”

The sad cast over his face finally breaks and he smiles at you. His hand squeezes yours once, then again and he looks back out at the mountains without saying anything else. You don’t think he needs to, that either of you needs to. Sometimes you understand each other better without words. 

You’ll always be there for one another.

You eye him warily and he holds the jerky out further. “Aren’t you a little curious?” He taunts, waving the jerky around in front of your face. You know he thinks you won’t take it. That he’s just screwing with you. He’s been doing this ever since you agreed to tag along with him. Teasing you at every given opportunity. 

You snatch it from his hands and rip a piece of it off. It kind of tastes like beef, if not a little sweeter. There’s also that metallic radiated tang to it. You chew it slowly, savoring the slightly caught off guard look on his face. You swallow it down, forcing your face to stay straight and not give away how disgusted you feel right now. 

He chuckles, leaning back and looking at you with something that seems like appreciation. “I hope you know that was ass jerky.”

You gag now, glaring at him and tossing the rest of the jerky at his smug face. “You’re such a dick.” You take a swig from your canteen and swirl the water around your mouth. It gets rid of the taste well enough but you’re never going to get over the fact that you swallowed a part of someone’s ass. 

He suddenly gets serious, swatting at your arm and motioning to the front of the store. You crouch beside him, watching as a raider walks out of the front doors. You don’t get why they chose an old movie store for their hideout, but Cooper had it on good authority that they had a decent cache of supplies inside. 

The last time you’d followed him into one of these things, you’d nearly died, and then he’d sold you. You’re still not fully trusting of him. The only reason you’re with him now is because you need extra security from bounty hunters after getting booted out of Filly. 

If he wasn’t such a good shot, you would have never given him a second glance. Despite how much he insists the compound was an honest mistake, you find the trust slow to come. You’ll let him take the lead on this one, you’re not confident in him having your back if things take a turn. 

He moves forward and you hang back, keeping watch while he slits the guard’s throat. He lowers the body quietly to the ground and you creep behind him, following him through the doors of the store. 

This group is smaller than the last one you dealt with. Only five of them with no extra guards outside. Cooper ducks behind a dust covered shelf before they can spot either of you. You go to the other side of the store, moving slowly along the edge until you have a good shot. 

You take out one man and Cooper manages to hit two more before they start firing off their own guns. You dart back behind the shelf, willing to let Cooper handle the last two. But one of them dives behind the shelf and grabs at you. 

Another shot goes off and his friend’s body hits the ground while he rounds the corner with you. He’s got an arm wrapped around your throat and the barrel of his gun pushing so hard into your skull you can feel an indent forming. 

It wouldn’t be hard to shoot this guy, you still have your gun in your hand. Cooper seems to realize that, too, from the questioning look he gives you. You drop your gun to the floor, you want to see what he’ll do. 

Maybe you’re stupid, gambling with your life like this. But you don’t feel any fear, not from the guy holding you hostage at least. You just keep your eyes locked on Cooper’s. They’re so familiar to you, yet so distant. Like a stranger you’ve known all your life. 

He slowly rises from the floor, hands raised in the air in surrender. “Alright, let’s just see if we can’t talk this out like gentlemen.”

The guy holding you jerks you roughly, gun banging painfully against your temple. You wince but remain quiet. “Stay back or I’ll blow her goddamn brains out!”

Cooper’s eyes dart from your face to the guy. He huffs, frowning and pursing his lips like he’s trying to think of a way to talk himself out of this. He could leave, he’s got enough time to make it through the door before he fires at him. 

Or he could help you. 

It’s the only reason you let yourself get caught. If he wants your trust he’s going to have to prove it. Cooper looks at you and a grin splits across his face. It’s like he’s read your mind, from the knowing look on his face you think he might’ve. 

Then again, you never really needed words to talk to each other. 

With a speed that never fails to catch you off guard his hand darts under his jacket and he draws his gun. He’s shooting the man before you even get a chance to brace yourself. Your body gets dragged back slightly by the dead weight but Cooper moves forward and wraps a hand around your shirt, tugging you into him. 

Your hands shoot out, bracing yourself against his chest. He peers at you from under his hat and grins, “You didn’t really think I was gonna let you go that easy did you, darling?” Your eyes dart down to his lips, you feel like you can still taste him. 

The timing of his kiss might not have been appropriate, but he certainly hadn’t made it forgettable. Nothing about him was forgettable. As much as you wished he could be. You hated yourself for still letting yourself fall into his trap. 

Hollywood might have once labeled you as the most seductive actress of your generation, but Cooper had you beat. He kept you coming back even when you knew you shouldn’t. He had you wrapped around him and all you wanted to do was squeeze until he let you go. 

You push off of him, ignoring how much you want to pull him closer. You move towards their pile of supplies, “Let’s see what we’ve got.”

There are a few different posters set up in the old movie store that intrigue him. But the one that’s caught his attention the most is set up directly behind her. Her back is to it, so she hasn’t gotten a chance to see it yet, but it’s all he can focus on. 

The Outlaw and The Sheriff

Their first movie together. 

He looks at her and huffs out a laugh, she glances up at him for a moment before she begins rifling through her bag again. She looks like she walked right off the fucking poster, hat and all. She’s the spitting image of herself, but she seems so different. 

Maybe it’s the eyes. The light there has changed, dimmed slightly from how it used to be. She used to seem so naive to the world, like a little lamb that just needed some guidance. Now, he wonders just how much of the world she’d seen before he found her. If maybe she had never been as innocent to it’s cruelties as he’d once assumed. 

She stepped into this new role of hers just as quickly as he had. You didn’t just change that quickly without knowing already just how awful people could be. 

“Sweetheart,” she looks up and he points behind her. She turns around and looks up to the poster.

She scoffs, moving to stand beside him, “I always hated how I looked in that.”

He glances over at her and shakes his head, “Probably shouldn’t show you a mirror anytime soon, then.” Her hands reach up to fiddle with the brim of her hat and she smiles, a real smile for once. 

“No, I suppose not.” Her hands trace over her lips, he glances back at the poster. At that old signature of hers. She always had to have those red lips. “It’s so different,” she whispers and he knows she didn’t mean for him to hear. Her eyes glisten and he frowns. 

He shouldn’t have shown her. It’s not like he enjoyed seeing those fucking Vault-Boy posters, he sure as hell hated seeing clips of himself. Why would she enjoy seeing who she used to be? Who they used to be?

Things used to be so simple. He loved her, she loved him. Now he’d fucked up so much he wasn’t sure she could ever look at him the way she used to. He didn’t want who she was before, he couldn’t handle that. This new her, well, he didn’t give her near enough credit. 

But he wouldn’t hate seeing someone look at him like that again. Endless adoration and unflinching loyalty. He knew he would follow her anywhere, he’d realized that a while ago. He didn’t have anything in the Wastelands, nothing but hate and spite to keep him going all this time.

Now, he had her. He just needed her to realize that she had him just the same. She had him wrapped around her and he hated it and loved it at the same time. Hated her and loved her for it all the same. 

He tugs his glove off before he reaches for her. He cups her cheek, thumb tracing over her lips before she turns towards him. His eyes meet hers and he smiles slightly at the familiarity and mystery to them. So much of her he recognizes and then there are these new parts he’s yet to discover. 

He wants to discover all of her. Learn everything he can about her all over again, feed his desire to consume her entirely. 

She pulls him in this time, her lips chapped and cracked. Her arms wind around his neck, yanking him closer and he tugs at her. She tastes as sweet as he remembers and it only makes him crave more. More of her, more of anything she’ll let him have. 

She pulls back from him, pressing her hand against his chest, slowly backing him against the wall. He lets her ease him to the floor and she throws a leg over his lap. She settles herself above him, both her hands tightly grasping his neck, crushing their bodies together, eyes gazing intently into his own. He doesn’t know what she’s looking for in him but she seems to find it when she leans in once more. 

She isn’t giving him a chance at control, she’s got a leash on him, pulling back anytime he tries to lead. He relents, following her as she slowly explores him. 

He’s not sure how long this peace between them will last before one of them inevitably fucks up. But they’re stuck together now. It doesn’t matter what happens, he’s not letting her get away from him again. 

She’s his, always has been, always will be. It’s been that way since before the fallout. He’s led her, guided her.

He had loved her as a different man. History always seems to repeat itself with them. As twisted as the world is, as twisted as they’ve become, they always seem to drift back together. No matter how much the both of them fight against it. 

He’s giving in now, giving into 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.

[walrus150915]

Happy pride, Nimona fandom :3

I gotcha some sketches! Gotta place them in different parts of the post so that you read everything

It's not just drawings I got HEADCANONS for you too!

Off topic but I love Nimona's design SO MUCH it's so AMAZING TO DRAW AGHHH

So

⚧Nimona LGBTQ+ specific headcanons of mine🏳‍🌈

• I've made a conclusion that if queer flags exist in Nimona universe, as well as gay drag bars (so was confirmed in the artbook), then labels DO exist. As well as good old homophobia??? I suppose????

• Nimona doesn't have a specific label because she thinks they are sorta restrictive. Also she just doesn't need one lol, if somebody asked her about her gender she'd say "Nimona"

• She'd wear the heck out of a "protect trans kids" shirt she bought no she ain't feeding into the capitalist machine she stole it

• There was something between Nimona and Gloreth but Nimona can't exactly say what for sure. Not exactly romantic but not strictly platonic. Homegirl had that toxic doomed kindergarten yuri going on😭

• Nimona doesn't look for romantic relationships. She explains it as "romance is for sappy dumb-dumbs" but in reality she just doesn't want to date and romantically love somebody who'll. Eventually die and leave her all by herself again yk (oh this got angsty real fast)

• Maybe one day Ballister tried to help her find her label (because he still tries to put things in boxes) and she just waved it off

Speaking of Ballister

• My man is transgender. Do I even have to explain. Read one of those posts that explain his transness better LMAO

• He started his medical transition as a teenager and had to fit right in not to disrupt the Institute's function. If he's a man then he has to transition QUICKLY so that others don't notice

• Because of that he's a transmedicalist and probably an enbyphobe at the start of the movie, thinking only one type of valid transness exists, and it's the one that is very binary and restrictive

• At the end he realizes the wrong of his ways and works on the internalized transphobia

• He came to terms with his homosexuality a bit easier. "It's always been boys" yk the drill

A couple of words about his boy lol

• Ambrosius is a painfully cisgender gay man. I genuinely apologize to all Transbrosius believers but he gives off STRONG cis vibes can't have a character with this surname dickless

• He's a trans ally but his opinions on trans issues were like. Very closed-minded. He supported but didn't entirely understand. Of course it changed as he went through ✨character development✨

• He was fully supportive of Ballister on his trans journey. Reassured him when Ballister felt like he wasn't enough, tried to make his boyfriend as secure as possible, loving every part of him

There should be a bunch of rather suggestive headcanons but this isn't that type of post LOL

No but think about Ambrosius kissing down Ballister's body and across his chest scars. This is my ultimate dream as a trans man

• Ambrosius also rocks a "protect trans kids" shirt that's for SURE

• He came to terms with his queerness as a teenager and had a whole crisis about it. As a Goldenloin he had the expectations of ✨continuing Gloreth's bloodline✨ thrown at him back in childhood so he sorta internalized that. Then boom, my boy is g a y and oh how gay he is!

• Click here to read about my headcanons on goldenheart when they had only started falling in love :D

• Ambrosius made inoffensive jokes about Ballister's transness. Like yk those goofy puns like "baby you put men in MENstruation", "omg does this make your parents transparent". Ballister smiled at them and rolled his eyes but also silently appreciated his bf's support, although expressed so stupidly

• He also made sure Ballister took proper care of his body because you know Ballister would not bind safely, being a dumb teen

Anyway yeah gay people

Unpopular opinion but we as a fandom should start drawing Bal with a disability queer pride flag

Side characters headcanons, anyone? XD

• Diego came out as nonbinary after the events of the movie. He got that he/they swag going on

• Also Ballister was his queer awakening FIGHT ME ABOUT IT. He had the stupidest, most childish celebrity crush on Bal. Maybe Bal formed Diego's type in men fjfhhx I like to think Diego got a boyfriend whose attitude is similar to Bal's

• Remember those news anchors? (they are so underrated omg) Well Nate Knight has a husband and Alanzapam Davis is a bi queen🙏

• Speaking of queens. Valerin is a straight ally💪💪 I imagine her being quite iconic on the Kingdom's queer side of the internet. They call her "mother" and stuff aajjaj

• the Director is homophobic, need I say more? So is Todd but I actually imagine him being a type of guy to reject his queerness

Haha mailman *winks at yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt*

• Todd had NO idea Ballister was trans. NONE

• The Kingdom has pride events!! Ambrosius and Ballister were very happy and excited to attend those as an official couple once they were out :}

• Nimona attended them every year, ofc she had to hide her true nature but it was fun for her to march along! And it was even more fun when everyone accepted her!!

Anyway yeah this was very fun to make!! Happy pride y'all, lmk what you think ;D

[rockybloo]

Ur honestly brave asf for that recent post because people can get really nasty about that type of discourse, and you spoke nothing but facts. i wish you nothing but peace and hopefully people can learn how easy it is to simply block and move on instead of making a big stink about content they don’t vibe with.

For context for the people who might not know

Thank you!

And, like I said, the older I get and the more I witness the internet and the world itself change, the more I just...feel no desire to get into drama around fictional content.

HELL--I don't even get into fandoms anymore. I just like what I like and keep to myself because I get easily annoyed with surface level fandom drama like people disagreeing with ships for the smallest of reasons when the two pairs of characters people are fighting with AIN'T EVER EVEN CANON IN THE SOURCE MATERIAL!

THE WAY I SEE IT--The internet is a series of tubes (at the bottom of the ocean that occasionally is nibbled on by sharks and other marine life) and is contained in boxes on people's desks.

Working a job where I interact with actual people on a daily and not pfps with usernames has put into perspective how dumb a lot of internet discourse really is and I always feel some typa envy for the regular person who is just vibin' unaware of the digital fuckery.

The longer I've been around, the less free time I have as well. So these small little gaps when I don't gotta work or sleep, I try to take advantage of and treat myself, often with my own OCs.

I think the proper word to use for how I feel about the internet is "jaded". I now understand the power of touching grass. The world is a big and wonderful place where the average human will not care I made a 30 tweet long thread about someone. Or that I tweet at all!

And what sucks is that saying the simple phrase "I do not care about online discourse about fictional media" will cause a buncha people to immediately go "WELL WHAT IF SOMEONE IS DRAWING INCEST OR UNDERAGE OR NONCON DOES THAT MEAN YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT THAT" because the internet LOVES some extremes.

And, as I've stated before, I don't fuck with fuck shit. And those things I just stated are fuck shit. Just because I am not constantly making posts upon posts about people creating that content DOESN'T MEAN I support or condone it. I block people who create that stuff. The law and higher forces will handle 'em where it's fit. I don't need the stress in my life of dogging on someone constantly to try and get them to stop doing weird fictional stuff because I know, FOR A FACT, they will not stop and I am wastin' my time. I have seen it so many times where people that get outted as weirdos do not change. Some actually celebrate their "cancellations"

I've seen so many people who spend their time online trying to be a "hero" and cancel the weirdos of fiction only for it to come out that they themselves are some other type of weird and, because their squeaky clean image they've tried so hard to maintain is ruined, they bail out. Or they will get overwhelmed with the stress or all the drama and stop posting. Or some other "bad end".

When you constantly try to portray yourself as having higher moral standing, you keep making that pedestal you accidentally are placing yourself on higher and higher so it eventually becomes unstable and topples over from even the smallest mistake you made because the internet ain't loyal. Supporters can become "I KNEW THEY WERE A WEIRDO" in less than 3 hours.

The only good I see in making a post about someone being a weirdo is that it alerts other people who might not know so they can unfollow. And even then, I have made it a task for myself where I read all of a post I can so I can craft my own opinions on someone since things have gotten to a point where if you don't gotta be making genuinely fucked up content to be seen as bad.

Humans are messy creatures and the internet is a messy place. And I wasn't placed on this planet to try to clean up either of those things. All I gotta do is stay black and die...and draw my OCs, of course.

[glowstone23b]

warden/ancient city thoughts …

Anicent cities aren’t actually cities, they’re actually massive temples instead that devoted themselves to a certain god (im not sure what god the old builders would worship akandk)

They laid many people to rest in those underground crypts, that a bit of their souls leaked out of the bodies and infected the glowing cave vines, resulting in a strange mutation of sculk

and as more people died and got places in those tombs,,, the more sculk spread

Eventually some worshippers caught notice of this and assumed it to be some gift from the gods, so they continued to add fuel to it, experimenting with it, etc, finding out that when a creature dies— instead of the soul ascending to an afterlife, it is instead pulled down by the sculk and merged into what was like a sentient hivemind of connected souls working together to become something akin to an organism

At some point, as evolution of the sculk furthered and sculk sensors formed, it eventually led to a sculk shrieker

and after worshippers activated it a couple times in a row,

It summoned the massive, blind hulking beast known as the warden. It harvested as many souls as it could from the worshippers as it chased after them, leaving no one in it’s wake, before retreating back into the biomass until the next time there is a significant amount of soul that alerts the shriekers once more

Ok mini rant story thing over. i like to think that sculk works in a weird sort of method

Catalyst farm and form the extra sculk needed to begin an infection —> sensors pick up on sounds made by noises that supposedly could be creatures with a soul —> shriekers sound a scream that helps determine if a warden should form —> warden harvests any nearby creatures to help the sculk spread. if killed, the warden drops a catalyst, so it can all begin again

The warden itself is a weird amalgamation of human souls stuck together fused with the sculk. the main reasoning for it being blind (other than cave animals usually being blind since low to zero light requires little need for eyes) is because detecting sound means a very high chance of something w soul

Sculk sickness …. Possibly a rare disease only picked up by deep miners. nasty no good and probably hurts as the sculk eats you from the inside out

Illagers came across the ancient cities and set up camp for a short amount of time to try and study the sculk . you can imagine what happened to them

[ i like to think every ‘living’ creature in minecraft has a soul. that keeps them alive and thinking and breathing and stuff. and undead mobs have soul residue which leaves them with very basic instincts or things they subconsciously remember how to do ITS A FUN THOUGHT ]

[ in my little au illagers love experimenting w souls . because the more you experiment the more messed up results you get (vexes being the fused collective of 2-3 allays, or creating abominations via sticking two different mob souls together… possibly how ravagers came to be since they look a bit like villagers that got turned into beasts . fun theorizing ]

Hey invention? Phanon? I love your mind, it's wonderful. Have a drawing!

I've never drawn a warden before, mostly because it's been very daunting, but I think I got it out the way I wanted it to!! Sculk itself is kind of like... a fungus-y tentacle-y mixture, and i got some inspiration from the devil's fingers fungus irl! Really cool, I suggest giving it a look-see.

In my head, sculk would start off kind of like little eggs or pips or... whatever those things are... there's a name for it, when a plant or a cell decides to split off to make a new plant or cell? Mitosis? Bulbs? Plantlets? There's a word I'm looking for. Anyways. They'd probably grow mini sculk bits off of more mature ones so they can drop off and spread on their own, kind of like some types of succulent if that makes sense? Which explains the little sticky-outy bits on the wardens' horn things. Man, there's gotta be proper terminology for this, my brain is not finding the right words today.

They'd release some sort of bioluminescence when disturbed, and have an almost tar-like substance produced to trap smaller mobs (spiders, bats, etc.) that happen to wander too close, akin to fly traps. It wouldn't work as well for humans, but it's not uncommon to have your foot tugged on by some sculk in the hopes it can digest you.

I went off "The warden itself is a weird amalgamation of human souls stuck together fused with the sculk" because it's FREAKING COOL, so !!! Yeah!! I've got some of the larger/longer sculk tendrils used as arms and 'fingers' in a sense, though they're not all that precise in use. It just opts to smack the heck out of people usually. The bones in the shoulders and feet I thought were really cool on the in-game design, so I feel that the sculk would grow around any sorts of bones it had access to to keep a more stable structure. Keeping yourself upright if you're a soft mass of plantiness/fungus-yness would be a little tough, I think. Also, keeping bones close to the sculk might make it easier to tether souls together? Who knows!

It'd be neat to see what types of matter the sculk would attach to to form a warden-- it could be enderman bones, for all we know! Big and long and short and stubby, and all of the bones are in the wrong places. Using femurs for toes, or ribs for arms... it'd definitely not be fun to see in person.

Sculk sickness sounds SO NEAT TOO!!! I imagine you might be able to inhale it, like spores? Since it feeds off of xp or souls, you just keep fueling it once you're infected whether you like it or not. Does it have any cure, or would you have to have some sort of surgery to try to remove the existing sculk from your body? That'd cause a heck of a lot of complications, if it were to block anything internally. Wild, but neat to theorize about.

And YES on the experimenting with souls thing! Especially with the update so vexes look a lot more like allays-- definitely experiment material. I wonder how many more mobs are out there that we haven't seen because they haven't been made yet? Just mish mashes of any sort of soul they could get their hands on, inhabiting a body that doesn't feel quite right. Kinda interesting!

Thank you for sharing as always ily you rule. Your theories slap, may your inventory be full of diamonds or something. May the Nether's fire guide your way, idk. More piglin-y, as per my blog, lol.

[lesbianneopolitan]

Hey, any other Neo AUs you've drawn or been meaning to draw but fleshed out in your head? Like you have vampy Neo, and Hazbin Neo now, and the P3 Reload Neo you drew. Any other neato Neo'd you got cooking?

I don't even think I would count with P3 Neo because it was just one drawing, like, I would say I didn't flesh that out at all in my head aside of getting some basic questions about her arcana choice, it was more of a 'I like the style! I'll try to draw a Neo in it' for the small challenge than anything xD

Nevertheless, I may as well make a list of the Neos I've drawn in the style of other series, that were done for fun, rather than to flesh an AU

When it comes to the fleshed out AUs inside my head we have:

THE VAMPIRE AU

It was the first, I know a lot of people know of its existence, but I had to mention it anyway because I'll forever be fond of it. Like, vampires are one of my main hyperfixations, so I almost always gotta have a vampire AU if the character in question isn't one already.

Even if the main timeline is up to happen in a modern setting, I've actually written some of Neo's past in RP format to develop her life with her parents, when she was still a recently sired vampire and stuff.

CYBERPUNK 2077 AU

I think the doodles speak very well by themselves, but the main idea with this was that Neo was an ex-Corpo that used to work for Salem (Grimm Corp.), which treated to experiment on Cyberpsychos in order to turn them into mechanical aberrations (like the Hound, but more Cyberpunk).

I was partially inspired by the run I played in my own Cyberpunk 2077 game lol

Nevermore AU

My bestie and I watched the Wednesday show and ended brainstorming an AU for the academy that the protag stays at. I actually wrote a bit of Neo in the setting as well with my bestie, for the fun of it.

POKEMON AU

I actually learnt a few things while doing this one and brainstorming ideas, because I had no idea they use Ditto in the mangas to shapeshift people, as in, Ditto can cover a person and use the shifting powers so the person has a disguise like, WHAT?

Anyway, a Pokemon AU of my Neo. Mimikyu was her starter as a kid when still known as Trivia. The Espeon actually helps with transmitting Neo's thoughts if she needs to communicate real bad, Ditto is for her own shapeshifting...

She also has a Vanilluxe and a Zoroark (her biggest ace in the sleeve) for proper battle and help with her crimes due to illusions. Vanillite and Ditto are the ones swapped for them in that case.

ROCK AU

THE FUCKING ROCK AU HAS ONE OF MY FAVE NEO DESIGNS! Like I love her, I loved designing this one. It was fun. I should draw her more, honestly.

In this one, Neo ACTUALLY had a voice at first, she was actually a vocalist and keyboard player before an accident that left her vocal cords fucked up- had to go through an operation, but she never recovered her voice.

She's a musician that actually uses old records of her voice to develop a system that will replicate her voice for new songs, think like, Vocaloid, sort of.

She eventually meets Cinder and joins her band as a guitarist to honor Roman.

...eventually also falls out with her and ends with Ruby's band, initially to spite Cinder for kicking her out.

MAFIA AU

Bruh, I even went ahead and designed all the members of the Ever After Mafia in this one. Neo wasn't initially part of them and had her own thing -Roman's Mafia- which she inherited after Roman died.

Cinder is like a double agent in this one and eventually betrays Neo and leaves her to die (following Salem's orders), but Neo survives and ends in the Ever After, desperate to have revenge against Salem's Mafia for what they did.

The Curious Cat is the big boss initially, but he was a motherfucking manipulator that took advantage of the other members when they were in their lowest, even Neo.

So Neo eventually has enough and kills him, becoming the boss instead, even if she honestly hates the responsibility. It's when Neo becomes the Mad Hatter for the group.

EXORCIST AU

The recent one- I'm sure people don't need that much info of this one because it's pretty recent.

Other AUs: Rusted Knight but it's Neo suffering the time trap ; Werecat AU ; Serial Killer AU ; Jennifer's Body AU

And now for other crossovers:

Among Us, TCOAAL, Hellborn Neo (Succubi + Demon Cat mix)(HH, Helluva Boss), Homestuck, Helltaker, Adventure Time, Sinner Neo (HH), Persona 3, Disney Cat

[basilone]

Sometimes, someone in the groupchat pulls out a spicy prompt list and reminds me "you are on vacation"... 😂 With a thanks to @mercurygray, who not only shared this but suggested Benny/Darlene and "risky places" for me to get back into the writing game. Warning for explicit sexual content applies.

He remembers her best on cold nights like these, when there’s ice forming on the windows and the room’s already gone quiet before lights out. It isn’t difficult to summon her voice to his ears once One-Eye’s sniffles have died down and Perrault’s cough has subsided. To remember how she sounds, sing-songing in his ear about all the things she’d like to feel, gasping and moaning and always pleading for more. To recall, sharply, that she gets crasser than Lottie when she’s really close, right until her voice fizzles into a soundless shattering that has pulled him over the edge too many times to count.

It takes more effort to summon the rest of her, though he still collects enough fragments that have him burrowing deeper under his blankets in an effort to find a warmth similar to hers. As always, her many freckles dance at the front of his memory – how often he has traced them with mouth and tongue, to the point where she laughed about him connecting all her dots – and the flush of her skin against his follows suit. Harder to pin down is the memory of her hair, because the colors of sunrise and sunset that gather in her curls are difficult to find in a place like this.

He remembers following the curves and lines of her as though he was already painting her in his mind. She’d gotten impatient once or twice – Ben, she’d said, voice catching, stop teasin’ me – but she’d somehow seemed to know how much he’d need to draw her forth in her eventual absence. He recalls a smattering of goosebumps beneath his fingertips, from that early morning when he’d half-undressed her amid their supplies. She’d laughed and cursed at him until he’d wrapped his jacket around her shoulders to keep her warm.

This is how he remembers her. Sitting atop a couple of crates, because he’d picked her up and carried her to that good enough seat. Long red hair spilling out of her braid, curling over his leather jacket, soft white lace peeking out from under her unbuttoned shirt. Soft huffs of breath in his ear as he'd drawn her close. His hands moving her skirt up, stroking her thighs, grinning just like he does now about how she’d instantly spread her legs more and had pulled him flush against her.

Ah know how to fix that freezin’ you got goin’ on there, Ben, she’d grinned back, once she’d quit shivering under his colder fingertips. She’d taken his hand just to prove the point. Had pressed it between the apex of her thighs, cotton of her underwear already turning wet beneath his touch, watching his face all the while. You just gotta slip your fingers into my warm cunt, how about that?

This, he’s got no issue remembering. He forgets how hungry he is when his mouth fills with the memory of her lips and tongue, tasting sweet with a little twang of something spicier underneath. He forgets the chill of this room long enough to recall how hot she’d felt around his fingers, squeezing down and turning impossibly wetter for it, how her breath had stuttered in his ear once he’d found the proper motion. Remembers, too, dimmer but still present, how her hand had undone just enough of his uniform so she could wrap her fingers around him in turn. He knows how it felt purely because he hears her smug voice in his ear – gonna use my mouth next time while I stroke your cock, get ya spillin’ down my throat so fucking fast – and feels himself harden simply at the memory of her hand languidly stroking him while his fingers moved along with every gasp she uttered.

He remembers her best when he recalls the risks. Spilling over her hand and bare thigh with soft grunts, coming to his senses just in time to clap his own hand over her mouth as she'd pitched into a near-scream of her own. Her grinning down at him, again wearing his jacket and not much else, using the tall grass in a barely-concealed effort to hide the fact that he was inside her from the rest of base. Him tugging her panties aside some other time, lifting her to rest her back against the trunk of the biggest tree on base, half-undressed himself in a way that’d have earned him a hell of a chewing-out from the brass if they’d discovered them like that. Pressed against her in the shadowy twilight, her hand warm on his cock, laughter twinkling out of her at his inability to keep quiet about how good it felt.

He turns on his side in the dark and shuts his eyes before the rest of her floods in. Before he recalls what it is like to be inside her proper – feel her warm and wet around his cock, hear her pleading for him to spill inside her just once just this time just take the damn risk Ben – but not before he summons the memory of her whispering ah love ya, Ben, ah really do into the quiet of his heart.

[torao-chan]

First post won't be connected with the other, which'll be a long chain, but here's the sketches that led up to me buying a new, proper notebook for sketching in.

This series of pages took place over, like, three or four (five? time's weird) months, until the frequency increased to the point where we felt our creativity was really beginning to find it's footing again.

This first batch was all built off of inspiration given to us by fanaticsnail's sub Kid fics asdlkjkgldjsfkg We never ended up finishing them might still finish the top kid on the second page though because none of them Hit The Right Vibe we were going for alkdsjlkgjkdf We were still fighting Perfectionism off at that point

Some specific notes:

Shoes are still a weak point of ours. Like a lotta human related things. We just gotta keep practicing until we get there 😿

We wanted to try and figure out drawing Bepo cause!! He's so cute alksdjlkgfdg Still trying to hit the middle ground between Oda's style and our furry art style asdgfdshf >w>;;

We did a lot of body and expression studies and I have a spare page that has since gone missing of more of these no idea where that went

Hands my beloved-beloathed. Love drawing them, suck at it.

Along with trying to nail the Kid that stuck in our head from this fic, we also tried to nail the Killer that came from discussions around this fic. Both we're not happy with, but neither we've given up on yet (　｀д´)9 they haunt us in our waking moments. lurking the back of our mind. we'll nail it eventually

These pages are when we started going 'but... what if we made keychains'. Still may end up using some of these sketches for keychains and/or stickers or something.

Some specific notes:

We wanna turn the rook-rook on the first page into a bookmark for Lil' Red >w>;; may not get it done in time for their birthday though

Also want to make a dangle Hot Cross Bun keychain so he may make a reappearance too!

Really, really still love the LuLaw-SunMoon dangle charm concept. That IS going to become something eventually.

Tobiuo on the second page is fanaticsnail's OC >w> we wanna make a something for her still asdlkjgflkd just still trying to find something that Hits Right

Really wanna make a NYEP Luffy sticker. Haven't given up on that concept yet either laksdjklgfdg

If you've seen one of those base sketches fully developed, no you haven't 😏 I'll come back and link it after a certain date lmao.

Also some base sketches for gift ideas for residual. I will find something that clicks (　｀д´)9 I swear ittttt

A mixture of maybe sticker? Designs? And some general furry warm ups alongside my dreams of a Friendly Flower Pal reversible keychain set, which still needs to be seen accomplished. Also also; Guard Point Chopper - Marimo Zoro - Puffle!Luffy as a sticker set is still Prevalent in my mind.

The base concept sketch for this reversible keychain which just needs to be printed out now! Along with the complete brainrot for this post that slapped me across the face that One Morning. And also. Booty short concept Lil' Red and I came up with after discussing my Birthday Cake that week lmao.

Last sketch before the new sketchbook was bought, which was the attempted drafts for this art born of the fanfic brainrot Minniaa gave me asdlkjglkfdj. Sexy and happy poses, apparently, I struggle with greatly. But angst? Can nail that in a heartbeat; an old friend, if you would aldskjglkfdg

[blubushie]

Based on the answers you've been giving about male friendship, I'm curious: how would you define masculinity? Your own, in society or interacting with other people, any way you want to take this question.

I've been out and living as a trans man for 4 years now (since getting into college) but haven't really started to feel like a man since I started taking T (almost 7 months). I still....struggle with a lot of things around my own identity, and how I am supposed to interact with people. So I would be interested to know how you navigate masculinity

Honestly I've never actually given much thought to masculinity aside from "the act of being male". What that act is, I have no fucken clue.

I'm very masculine. But that's just my nature—it's not performative. So it's hard for me to draw lines of what exactly masculinity IS because for me, it's just the act of being me. I like doing certain things that societally are considered masculine. In my experience most of masculinity is just societal perception and socialisation. I like cars, and cooking especially when it's meat, and I eat a lot of meat, and I like hunting, and firearms, and fishing. I like history, and video games. None of these things are ACTUALLY masculine, but society considers them to be. So by society's standards, they're masculine. And so I just reckon I like being masculine.

I've always approached masculinity as something that men just inherently are, and the definition varies from man to man. For me, it's self-sufficiency, and loyalty to family, and dedication to my craft. I drive an old truck because if she breaks down I can fix her easily. My rifle is a bolt-action because operation and maintenance is simple. I make my own food, I hunt my own meat, I'd endanger my own life to protect the rare few I call my friends and have done so. I try to raise my child right, so that he grows up without a sense of judgement and with patience and respect for the people around him.

So in general I'm very in line with what people/society consider to be "traditional" masculinity. Hunting, fishing, cars, I like alcohol on a Friday night, and I do rodeo, and I shoot, and I dress in flannel and jeans and dingo boots.

But masculinity doesn't have to be traditional. Every man has his own idea of what masculinity is. You've just gotta find yours and what you're comfortable with. The first step is just being you. If you want tips on how to act "more of a man", the truth is you already are one. If you're inclined you can go a step further and get involved in male spaces that are likely to have an absence of women (we behave better with the ladies around so if girls are present you're gonna struggle a bit with proper socialisation). Get into a shooting or archery club, or a boating club, or hunting or fishing, or something like that. Or a men's club. Anything with a large number of men and a low number of women. Then just sit back and observe how they interact with each other. Eventually you can insert yourself into their conversations when you see openings and work on the socialisation skills. Expect some ribbing but if they get too aggro/cruel just move onto a different group.

Bonus round: Find a respected old man and ask him to teach you how to be a man. He'll learn you all about chivalry and male manners and behavioural expectations and shit like that. If you don't want to disclose your trans status, just say you had a bad relationship with your father or that your dad was never around to teach you how to be a good man. He'll fold and take you under his wing.

[dexterkronos]

Sorry for the delay y'all! University decided it wanted my attention more so I didn't get to finish my Eyes until today. So, introducing to everyone, EyeAvatar!Ivy Alexandra from @girlwholovesturtles's Craniopagus fic! Main thing that hurt doing this was honestly trying to figure out how to get them both mousey and Eye coded. For those unaware; Craniopagus (which you should go read) places The Mechanisms in The Magnus Archive's space, and most of the cast have some connection to an Entity. Ivy is - obviously - tied to The Eye, to the point she eventually Became an Avatar. She is also a mouse humanoid, which means I spent an insubordinate amount of time researching mice eyes, sobbing over the mouse eyes, getting sucked into several Pinterest rabbit holes for no particular, discernable reason, and then deciding to just wing it based on Craniopagus' description and that alone. It's most likely not 1:1 with Kila/CopperRose's "large, doe like, and entirely black" description thanks to the lighting tricks I had to do, but rest assured without the glows they are pure black with very, very, very dark green for the iris. I tried to do a version as well that was more mid-Becoming, but it honestly lacks compared to the final product lmao- Anyway, I gotta play catch-up now, so after my proper Ivy drop later I will either tackle more Craniopagus characters, draw candlecoo's Toy Soldier, or mess with the third, spoopy idea of that Buried rant I did last night. We'll see. The resident Eye Lady definitely makes no clear promises on swift returns, but will try!

[ID in alt text]

[red-winter-is-coming]

Allister & Silver headcanons let's goooooooooo

@i-am-not-paul :3

(Red is headcanons focused on Silver, Purple is for Allister-centric ones, and Black is for both!)

They were both found by an older couple in Johto who takes in any kids under the age of 10 who don't have a Pokemon. Silver was found wandering a town and failing to steal food, and Allister was discovered in the forest clutching an egg.

They ended up being put in the same room due to space limits, which worked out wonderfully! ... after they realized the other was a good person. this took a bit...

By the time a month had gone by, they were thick as thieves. Allister was very closed off, but something about Silver made him feel comfortable enough to open up in their room!

Silver did not let anyone be mean to Allister. Either through threatening them directly, or teaching Allister that yelling 'Fuck off' was a great way to get 6-10 year olds to back away

They're both neurodivergent. Allister's just the one most people clock first.

They named their starters after each other :3

Silver ended up picking Cyndaquil for his starter, entirely because Allister loved Hisuian Typhlosion. The reason he got caught by Gold is because he was lost in thought being reminded so suddenly and so vividly of his only friend. (The Cyndaquil got named Ghost after the first encounter with Gold)

Allister's egg eventually hatched into a shiny Eevee! This happened shortly after he got brought to Galar, and he named it Silver, due to both it's coloring, and his friend.

The two of them were planning to start their Trainer Journey once they turned 10, with Allister planning to pick Cyndaquil, and Silver wishing to wait until he could catch a Sneasel.

Unfortunately, that plan was shattered a few weeks before they were able to leave, because Chairman Rose caught wind of a strange child who spoke to ghosts and didn't have a family.

Part of the reason Silver is so furious during the events of Johto is because he's freshly morning the loss of his only friend, his father's (who abandoned him) group is starting to be active again, he isn't winning a single fight he picks, and this upstart prick known as Gold isn't exactly helping. the other part of the reason is because he never really learned the proper way of showing emotions. oh and you know, 10 is a trying age.

After they meet each other again, Silver pretty much just won't let Allister leave his side for long. Also Chairman Rose should be very glad he's in jail, because Silver and Ho-Oh would've wrecked his shit.

Allister actually opens up quite a lot around Silver, surprising Bea immensely, because he hadn't really done that before. (Bea and Silver have a rather silly rivalry. That being said, they do respect each other)

Allister's Eevee evolves into Umbreon! He doesn't use it for gym battles, but in private, it's his ace.

Silver (the Umbreon) is rather picky about people, but warms up to Silver (the trainer) right away. Allister has a few photos printed out of the Umbreon sleeping on top of the trainer.

Allister doesn't feel the need to wear his mask around Silver, unless they're in public. Honestly, there;s zero point anyways, because he only got the mask after they got separated.

They have plans to go visit a new region at some point, Allister wanting a break from being a gym leader, and Silver because he's bored. (honestly vibing with the idea of them going to Paldea for some reason)

They both tend to have anxiety/panic attacks, due to different reasons (Allister because of why he was alone in a forest, and Silver because he did not have a remotely good childhood), typically when this happens, one of them takes care of the other, because sometimes you just gotta have the comfort person around.

Allister likes art, specifically drawing, which Silver is fairly bad at. Allister usually teases his friend about this fact.

If you had to guess who's older, you'd probably say Silver. But, in fact, Allister is exactly a month older. Silver is forever annoyed at this fact.

Silver doesn't usually smile, but being with Allister changes that fact.

Allister has a habit of saying random shit out of nowhere, all because Silver was a weird kid.

Silver starts mellowing out considerably after reuniting with Allister, partly because he's a bit older now, and partly because not having Allister was one of the unresolved parts of his life.

They actually both have a tendency to go apeshit with the influence of each other.

Silver was actually scared of ghosts, until Allister introduced him to all the wild ghost types in Galar!

They both liked sparring with each other, with or without dynamaxing involved. They both enjoy the thrill of the fight :D

[itsahotminuteinbetween]

Okaaaaay, back with the third chapter of the little thing I made cuz I'm almost done with the fourth. I might end up splitting the fourth in half, but we'll see. Apparently people actually liked the first two, so that's a thing now.

Anyways, on with the show!

(chapter one's here, chapter two's here)

Word Count: 1,410

Lights on, Sun out. The day went on as usual. He sat folded into a small chair at the crafts table, praising children for the drawings they proudly showed him. He felt something buzz in his pockets and fished out…your phone? Odd. Moon must’ve taken it. He really ought to be more careful next time.

It buzzed again after the children left for the day. He pulled it out and watched the screen light up, quickly skimming the text that appeared without thinking.

MadScientist: hey can u come over  

Mad Scientist: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E9z1hPexqoQ

Mad Scientist: can u pick up meds later

Sun stared at the device, debating on what his next move should be.

“Hey!” He heard you call, quickly strolling over and moving to grab it before forcing your hands down, instead waiting expectantly with one held out as you ‘ask’ with a tone that indicates little argument, “Can I have that back now?”

He blinks, wordlessly handing it back to you with an odd look before snapping out of it.

“You know, you really shouldn’t be texting during operating hours,” he snips. 

He sees you school your expression with a strained smile, nodding and pocketing your phone. “Of course, so sorry, I could’ve sworn I left it on silent…” It vibrates again, and you whip it back out, scrolling through the texts and spot a missed call piled on top of them, letting out a sigh. Turning back to him, you give him an apologetic look and wince. “Sorry, can I take this? It’s…kinda important.”

Sun almost says no, almost scoffs and tells you that you need to pay attention to your job, that that call you thought was ‘so important’ would have to wait for you until you finished what you were required. The retort dies on his metaphorical tongue, and he instead finds himself shoving the cleaning supplies at you and saying, “You need to do your job, so get to it. Your own time is wasted however you want, as long as this is done.”

He leaves you to stare at him in a combination of surprise, embarrassment and what he assumes to be gratitude, stalking off to the broom closet for more supplies with a huff. He returns with the disinfectant and starts on the barrels, wiping them down and discreetly listening to your conversation.

You pick up the phone, visibly brightening as you speak, pinning the device on your shoulder as you pick up the scattered playthings and return them to their proper spots. 

“Hey, sorry I didn’t respond earlier! Can’t contact anyone on duty…yeah, I know, but there’s not much I can do ‘bout it…Anyways, how’ve you been?” You pause as the person on the other end speaks, taking the time to finish up and start rolling up the mats. The conversation is casual, something they’ve never seen from you. You make a few remarks here and there, respond carefully to a couple questions before quickly diverting to something else, occasionally letting out some snickers and barks of laughter unlike anything they’ve heard from you. You continue cleaning, sometimes running into Sun and giving him a small ‘sorry’ that sounds nothing like the laid-back tone you quickly take up when conversing with the caller. 

At some point, you finish and lean on the desk, just talking enthusiastically before either being interrupted or cutting yourself off. Eventually, you suck in a breath and gather your things. “Sorry, dude, I’m gonna hafta call you back, I gotta clock out. The pharmacy’s still open, right?...Look, there’s another bottle in the pantry, just take your aspirin, I’ll get the other stuff later.” You roll your eyes. “Someone’s gotta get on your case, do you want it to be me or Mom?” A long pause, before you deflate and draw a tired sigh. You put a hand to your temple, carding fingers through your hair with a chuckle devoid of the previous light-hearted humor. “Yeah. Yeah, I know…I gotta talk to them at some point. I…I just…dude, you know how it is, I hate having to just…just take it…I know, I know, I will, just…not yet. I’m not ready yet.”

You give a more subdued goodbye and end the call, looking around. Sun quickly pretends to be disinterested, focusing on the jungle gym he’d been wiping down for the duration of your conversation. 

You stare for a second before clearing your throat awkwardly and gesturing towards the door. “I’m gonna head out now. Goodnight, I’ll see you in the morning.” 

Sun makes it a point not to respond, waiting for you to feel self-conscious by the tense silence. You let your farewell hang in the air unanswered for a couple seconds, then grab your stuff, mumbling to yourself under your breath. 

“Yyyep, leaving now, see ya…” You take fast paced, broad steps toward the exit and scan your badge, disappearing behind the metal door for the night.

Sun breathes an artificial sigh of relief and rolls his eyes, glad to have the place to himself, if only temporarily. He sets his gaze back on the task at hand, pulling out a fresh wipe and picking up where he left off.

Right.

Back to work!

______________________

True to your word, you stop by a pharmacy and request the medication. You also run through a drive through and order takeout. Knowing your brother, he’s probably been surviving off the wi-fi and microwave pizza-bagels. You drop off the food at the doorstep, too tired to initiate conversation, even with your closest (and only) companion. You remind yourself to come back at some point tomorrow and properly check up on him.

Fumbling with your keys, you unlock the door to your own apartment, sighing at the state of your living space. You chuck your shoes off and put some effort into making it look a little less like a dump.

Laundry is shoved into the hamper until you can go to the laundromat. The tall stack of dishes is piled into the dishwasher. Clothes are folded and returned to their places. Papers are stacked out of the way to make your dusty desk seem a little more organized than it actually is. 

You stand at the foot of your bed, folding the blanket carelessly before flopping onto the mattress and letting out a groan. You can’t muster up the energy to get back up and make some food, even though your stomach whines loudly in protest. You just bury your face deeper into your pillow, hoping to block out the world for just a moment.

It works for maybe four minutes.

You force yourself to get up again, shucking off your work clothes in exchange for pajamas that hang loosely on your frame, several sizes larger than yours, just the way you liked it. Big clothes are always comfier.

You shuffle over to the tiny kitchen and grab something (you don’t quite know what you chose and you frankly don't care as long as it’s edible) and stick it in the microwave.

You watch the plate spin around with half-formed thoughts buzzing in the back of your head, slipping in and out like sand between your fingers. Your conversation with your brother floats to the front of your consciousness, one that never seems to drop out of the cycle.

If you’d’ve stayed, maybe you…

You grimace and shake it out of your head, dispelling the thought before you fell down a rabbit hole of what is and maybes. You had a habit of thinking too hard and boxing yourself in.

Maybe if you hadn’t left, you wouldn’t grow up to be such a-

The microwave beeps and you pull out your meal. Pizza. Fitting. You remind yourself distantly to go grocery shopping at some point when you got your paycheck.

Meal now finished, you prepared for bed, crawling under the covers and combating the dark forces of your own mind, staring dully at the ceiling with an arms slung over your head. You were exhausted, but being unable to sleep was another thing you were well adjusted to. Then again, your sleep schedule had always been erratic. Still, whatever forces at bay were having a hell of a time making your life miserable.

You shut your eyes, allowing yourself to momentarily be swept away in the loop of thoughts that swirled in your head.

Right.

Tomorrow was a new day.

Same as any other.

Aaaaand that's a wrap! Hope that was up to standard, I'm still not sure about the dialogue. MC has some family issues, if you couldn't tell. I wasn't sure if I used the right approach with the boys' perspective here, but I guess it'll do. I don't know when I'm posting the fourth chapter, I still have to transfer it to a doc and then edit and all that fun stuff. But yeah, that's all for now :)

[kellanved-ammanas]

TF2 Drabbles: Scout/Pyro - Decorations

Summary: Perhaps something silly with Pyro and Scout drawing together! It could be more platonic or more romantic, I genuinely don't mind either way.

I didn't get enough winter/winter holiday themed requests so I took several from my normal list and made them themed so. Which in hindsight, I maybe should've just decided to do from the start since they've been sitting in my inbox for so long already.

~

“What do you mean we can’t get more decorations? The Christmas party is like our big thing before we all leave for like ages. We gotta decorate for it.” And Scout wasn’t going to admit it out loud but he quite liked decorating the common room for it with everyone willing to assist. It was fun.

Engie frowned at him as he finished dropping the last of the water logged, partially moldy cardboard boxes that had once contained all the base’s Christmas decorations in the garage’s trash bin. “Son, in case you somehow forgot with how gosh dang cold it is, we’re on top of a damn mountain currently. The drive down to the nearest town is four hours in good weather. Which it is currently but that’s still far too long to for any of us to want to put up with for something that ain’t needed. We went yesterday to stock up with enough food and supplies to last ‘til we all leave for holiday. You should’ve said something before then.”

Scout followed him back into the warmer part of the base because it was indeed quite cold. “We didn’t know everything was ruined yesterday.” It was just this morning they’d pulled the boxes out and found them and most of what was inside ruined. They’d search through most of it, looking for anything salvageable with almost not success.

Those boxes had been left to sit and rot in the leaky back corner of the storage area since they’d moved into this base several months ago. The base hadn’t been warm enough to allow the leak to drip so they’d all missed it at the time, resulting in their current predicament. “It’s not fair.”

Engie shrugged. “Sorry but that’s just how it is. We’ll have a real tree this year though so it ain’t all bad.”

“Yeah but a Christmas tree isn’t a proper Christmas tree unless it’s not a star and stuff on it.”

No response this time so after a few more seconds of no sign of Engie changing his mind, Scout headed off. Technically he could steal the car and go by himself. But while he did have some experience driving in snow, nothing like what was out there. And his reckless driving had gotten him banned from using the team van – which he’d never had any desire to fight because it was more work to drive anyway – and thus he hadn’t driven at all in over a year. So his chances on the road weren’t great. Respawn could snatch him up but it could do nothing to save him from the team’s wrath if he totaled their only form of transportation that wasn’t Engie’s two man truck. And he didn’t want to risk doing that to all of them anyway. Meaning he was stuck.

He did know someone who would commiserate with him though. Even if he hadn’t even tried to argue with Engie’s decree, Pyro had seemed just as disappointed as Scout, if not more so, when pulling out the boxes to find them ruined.

It took a bit of searching but he eventually found Pyro in his room. The door was unlocked, allowing Scout to just walk in.

Pyro was standing at his table, piling stuff into a box at the edge of it. Curious, Scout stayed quiet as he stepped closer, allowing him to see into the box before Pyro could spot him. … It was his art stuff. Mostly paints but pencils and markers too.

“Why you packing up your stuff?”

Pyro didn’t startle, indicating he’d heard Scout come in and hadn’t minded. “I’m putting it in a box so I can move it easier. It’s good you’re here though because I need some of your paper and pencils and maybe some of Spy’s stuff too and probably some scissors and glue too.”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll help you gather stuff.” It’s not like Scout had anything better to do right now. “What you planning on making?”

“Christmas decorations. We don’t have any and can’t go buy any so I’m gonna make some. You want to help?”

“Oh, uh… yeah, sure. That’s a good idea actually.” It hadn’t even occurred to Scout as an alternative to make their own decorations. They wouldn’t be super durable or fancy but it’d be far better than nothing. And well, doing art with Pyro was always fun. Working on a big project like this together would likely be even more so.

[brb-on-a-quest]

For the writer asks: 4, 15, 27, and 30 <3

HI IGGY!! :) :) :) tysm; i haven't actually looked through most of these yet so I should do that first XD. Numbers are from here

4- (story idea I haven't written yet)

Ok so I have started this one but then decided I hated it so it's mulling on the back burner until I have more energy to rehash it out for better stuff is part of The Doctor and The Butler storyarc(?world?) at this point, but basically the robins all take the Doc on a Proper Road Trip and it All Goes To Chaos(tm) because the Doctor Does Not Do RoadTrips in the slightest because he just pops in and out of time on a whim and doesn't seem to do great in small spaces for more than 15 minutes (basing this on the cube episode in the Matt Smith Era). It'd be good but it needs a certain... vibe yk? haven't gotten there.

15- (favorite weather for writing). Not a weather, but I can only write when it's dark outside bc then I don't feel about about not doing homework/other things. Rain is also good tho.

27- (Favorite part of writing process). The part in Brainstorming where it all starts coming together and you're just squealing like your twelve and some cool people just invited you to hangout with them, and then you start writing and everything goes smoothly.

30- (Share a fic you're proud of)

Hmmmmmmmmmmmm I don't have any full-length WIP done for you to look at but I think I have some assignments (checks through old google documents) lmao no what assignments (shoves them all into the fireplace). Let me give you the beginning of one of my current WIPS that im really proud of currently even if I've been writing and rewriting it so many times.

It wasn’t even close to the moonset when hands and voices raised them from sleep. “Misha, Rose. On your feet. It’s your turn now.”  “Ugh, just kill me now,” Rose muttered as she and Misha both sat up blearily. “Be quicker and easier.” “That’s the coward’s way out. Also, way too expensive.” Misha stood up and rubbed her eyes. “How much fest prep do we gotta do still, Dani?” She watched as the freckled elf started climbing to the top bunk.  Daeneryl flopped down on her mattress, clutching a fat feather pillow, with a yawn. “Just drinks, but those are last minute.”  “Oh, and be careful how you tread around the old man today.” Fayley peeled off her slippers from her feet as Misha and Rose got dressed into their outfits for the day. “Got a new run of trash gryphons. Damn pests.” “Thought Sammy took care of all that?” Rose sighed as she pulled a brush from the vanity table to untangle a sea of unruly curly hair. Starting from the bottom, she winced every time she had to pull it through to the end.  “He was supposed to. Says he did his whole ‘pied piper act’ which he did, but apparently these are a different breed.” Dani sighed. “Nick’s looking into wizard enchantments.”  Eventually, Rose gave it up and threw it all up in a slicked-back ponytail, held in place with an assortment of ribbons and pins. “One day, I swear, I’m just going to take a knife to this and hack it off.” “You’ve been saying that for five years,” Dani laughed. “I’ll believe it when I see it.” “Watch me.” Rose grimaced. Misha shook her head silently as she braided the front sections of her hair and tied it back with a bright orange ribbon that matched her flowing skirt. It was one of her favorites because it made her stand out in a crowd that mostly wore shades of brown and black for practicality. She slipped into her boots and crouched down, waiting for Rose.

Rose caught sight of her and rolled her eyes. “You’re asking for it. Fayley, your count.”  There was a muffled “Go” and fingers interweaved the laces with their corresponding hooks. They looked up when they were finished, approximately the exact same time. “Call that one a draw, I suppose.” Rose shrugged. “Come on, let��s get some food before we have to deal with life.”

[shiroda-creates]

wanted to draw a proper reference for this guy but gave up when it came time to draw a shirt, I’ll just try again sometime I guess (the scars were too fun to draw I couldn’t bring myself to cover them up)

he’s one of my first and favorite ocs tho I gotta do something for him eventually 😭

[behindthewox]

As someone who left WoX but made quite a lot of art for both WoNK and WoGV (yes its me, hi babes) it pains me to see that artists don't get enough appreciation. Sure, here and there you get some comments and trust me, the MoM and entire GV team was an absolute joy to work with. However, once my Ipad breaks, you can't do anything. Then what?

It's not a simple drawing a week, it's HOURS a week. It's intense and severely unmotivating not getting even the slightest form of appreciation. (once again, the team was wonderful). Still, once the art is posted, it's posted. Not to mention the copyright? What even goes on there? Is it still my property? I didn't sign anything for them to own my art, nothing is signed. I do believe they need to make clearer rules and terms on that.

As an artist, I feel severely underappreciated by the community AND the people that run it (once again, not the team on GV, I love you all!!!). Art takes time. Finding proper references takes time. Sketching takes time. Rendering takes time. Yes, we signed up for this ourselves, however, it still sickens me to see how underappreciated the artists truly are. Guys, show your art leads and the artists some love. And WoX, figure out a way to help artists when their stuff breaks. My Ipad was broken, couldn't do anything. Eventually I left WoX and it's fixed now that I have money again, but what would have happened if it remained broken? Would they have fired me? Also, the programs are getting more expensive, so the site artists are not only putting time but also MONEY into it, which I think is just unfair.

That's all I gotta say on this! Love you all <33

[NOTE: the text above is a submission sent in by an anonymous contributor, and they are expressing their personal feelings and opinions. the text below is my response.]

The copyright aspect is very interesting, and WoX could definitely do with some work there. The written content on the sites is somewhat protected with ownership and rights being defined in the shared rules, but imagery is not (as far as I'm aware). Copyright law applies automatically to everything created, but once you've shared the creation and allowed it to be used somewhere it can become messy if there aren't specific agreements in place. Do you still own the rights after uploading it on a WoX site, or does uploading it to WoX equal an unspoken agreement that it now belongs to WoX?

I'm not an expert and my ventures into studying law has been mostly out of curiosity, so don't take this as fact or legal advice, but I think WoX artists would have a hard time claiming legal rights over their work simply because it was created and submitted in the mutual understanding that it would be used for the WoX site it was made for. A contract or agreement doesn't have to be a written or recorded in order to be valid, although you definitely should keep documentation if you can. If you can't prove what the original agreement was, it'll be really tricky to figure it out after the fact based on what the different parties say and claim.

If you're up for a fight, see if you can establish your rights to your work and demand a proper written agreement. If possible, talk to the GV team and see if they're willing to set a new precedent with credits for the artwork used on the site. It has to start somewhere and I doubt that will come from the very top, so maybe it's up to current site leaders to take a stand and do it independently?