Dipped in the water, came out a killеr

Swung and missed                                        I put my heart in this                         Mythical, holy, good guy                I want so bad to be                                                   But I was weak and wrong

@standingxbear / @courier2lw / @yourxlongxlostxpal

@catmanradio / @atomcatbluejay / @dimasexual

‘jesus, i’m sorry I’m not doing it the right way. i’m sure you’d be perfect at this.’

"Move."

West didn't hesitate with flipping the terminal keyboard down, annoying at his sister for taking so damn long with the lock picking. Not that West could've done much better. Must have been a damn tough lock. But they had been sniping at one another all morning, and it wasn't as if either would be backing down. There was too much they hadn't bothered to try and discuss. Maybe just content that they were back in each others lives. Alive. But not exactly happy with one another.

He didn't even need her to move away from the door, so his own bitching was unnecessary. He also didn't want her crowding him. His fingers tapped on the keyboard quickly, arrow keys to move the cursor, finding a passkey to start with and working from there. He removed duds, but not until the second incorrect answer as he'd learned that the little short cuts could also refill your chances. He never liked wasting those. And you could always back out of the program and try again. It was astonishing people didn't realize that and got themselves locked out for nothing.

That little cha-ching noise of accomplishment was so satisfying.

"Got it. Perfect enough for you?" West moved in front of El with a roll of his eyes and wrenched the door handle open, swinging it wide.

eliana knows she should be grateful to have him back, and she is. really. that gratitude can't so readily heal wounds left open for years. particularly when he only remembers bits and pieces of a past she's been carrying since they went their separate ways.

when she hears the terminal let him in, a mingled sense of relief and annoyance pumps through her. heavy on the annoyance when he speaks again, moving to open the door. she steps away from him, rolling her eyes.

“ don't be an ass- ”

the sound of the shotgun blast cuts her off. the spray from the shell catches her in the upper left arm and shoulder, wrenching a pained cry from her throat. her other hand instinctively goes to cover the wound, her eyes flickering to the open door and the trap laid on the other side.

at least they can count their blessings it isn't someone ready to shoot again.

“ ow, ow, ow, fuck. ” she applies firmer pressure to the wound, blood welling beneath her fingers. adrenaline kicks in, helping temporarily ease the pain. “ wes -- west, are you okay? ” her eyes flicker to her brother, checking him over for any sign of injury. she doesn't see any blood; it looks like the door took the brunt of the shot, save for what caught her on the way out.

as she glances at the pattern of the buckshot, she realizes that opening the door herself, from her vantage point ... if her lockpicking skills were a little more up to snuff, she wouldn't have a head left.

"Fuck--" West grabs her shoulder and the arm holding her own wounds, moving to ease her down to sit on the floor with the practice and patience of someone in the medical profession he claims to know more of than his own life. "I'm fine-- don't-- Who fucking cares?" West can't help but give a short laugh, out of sheer nerves. What a fucking idiot. He did this because he was pissed at her? The expectations of being someone he couldn't remember? He was mad at her for fucking caring about him-- just because it was someone he used to be?

He slung his bag aside, rifling through for his toiletry turned medical bag. Scalpels and Med-x and tweezers and even some found dentistry equipment rattled around together. He was wearing his glasses already, needing them to see the terminal, so that was one less thing to dig around for. But the buckshot shredding her shirt all to pieces... He moved her hand to staunch a wound closer to her neck. Fuuuck. He took a breath, working quickly. A shot of Med-X for pain before finding the more stable forceps he had and picking out bits of pellets and clothing from the wounds.

- Your condition can have the priority over a thread

- You're allowed to ask for accommodations in texts or images ( ID description, avoidance of trigger words , etc)

- You're not hated for spending time offline

- Your writing is good, no matter the struggles to make it

- You come before your threads, always.

at @savingthcw - featuring fandoms such as lost, dragon age, baldur's gate, fallout (prime and 4), one piece live action, until dawn, bridgerton, doctor who, x-mcu, dc & more [including some of my muses having complete bios for shows they crossover into]

I PLAYED THE GAME OF LOVE AND LOST, SO STOP THE WORLD AND LET ME OFF.   ━ independent roleplay blog for chris wells, an original character based in the world of FALLOUT. written by sky. 21+ only. follow backs come from wandercr.

“What’d they say, [name]?”

“That I’m lucky to have such a good helper like you.”

“You know, given the state of everything, I’d prefer not to if that’s alright.”

“It’s what you’re famous for.”

“He still took my money.”

“That’s grown-up stuff.”

“Is it your thumb, or mine?”

“My reproductive organs are intact, my hygiene well-maintained.”

“Feels a little tight.”

“On my wedding night, that dress got off almost as fast as [name] did.”

“Oh gosh. After ten years of cousin stuff, I’m definitely excited for the real thing.”

“I’m just excited for us to raise our kids together.”

“From that moment on, [location] was a distant memory for me.”

“Must be nerve-wracking, your [title] could be anyone.”

“It’s gunna take some time to fix.”

“[Name], I love you.”

“We all know that, [name.]”

“Messing around with your cousin, it’s all well and good for kids, but it's not a sustainable long-term sexual practice, you know.”

“Okey dokey.”

“Just so you know, this was the best day of my life.”

“Sir, please don’t make me use force.”

“Oh, geez.”

“Oh. I think I know who you are.”

“Everyone knows who I am.”

“Do they know who they are?”

“They are the product of one of life’s tricky little choices.”

“I’m going to offer you a choice.”

“You are my world.”

“You look like your [family member.]”

“You should see it sometime.”

“Maybe you should do what you do best: run and hide.”

“How’s your nose?”

“Well, I can still smell, it’s just… Mostly blood.”

“Imagine getting to put on one of those every day.”

“Wonder why they’re here.”

“We’re brainstorming here - and there’s no bad ideas in a brainstorm.”

“I’m going with you.”

“What you’re doing is insane.”

“[name], I’m not letting anyone else get hurt on my behalf.”

“Young [gender], you come back here right now.”

“Well, that didn’t work.”

“You have ambitions, don’t you?”

“I wanted it to happen, is that wrong?”

“Are you weak?”

“I don’t want to be.”

“You have anything else to say, in your defense?”

“I wanna thank you, for your guidance and for giving me a home.”

“I had no place in the world, so.”

“Do you know who did it?”

“Well, I narrowed it down to one of those assholes.”

“They asked me if it was you.”

“You’re telling me the supreme badass we’re looking for is a freaking mutant?”

“How do we know he’s not feral?”

“Why, is this an Amish production of The Count of Monty Cristo, or just the weirdest circle jerk I’ve ever been invited to?”

“Does that count, should I shoot him?”

“Would you shut the fuck up.”

“A bounty came down, a huge one. Enough to be a last score for me, and whoever’s with me.”

“Well, what makes you think I’d give a goddamn about that?”

“It ain’t where they’s running from I figured you’d be interested in. It’s where they running to.”

“Now, what the fuck would you know about where I’m from?”

“Well, that don’t sound like gratitude, do it boys?”

“Well, I tell you what, boys, whenever somebody says, they’re doing last one job, that usually means their heart’s not in it. Probably never was.”

“But for me, well, I do this shit for the love of the game.”

“You right friend about one thing, this right here, was your last job.”

Lydia’s Story photos for Chris’ birthday