Send Σ(O_O;) for my characters reaction to having their clothes unbuttoned/unzipped by yours.

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TVSTRANGERTHINGS
styofa doing anything

shark vs the universe

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One Nice Bug Per Day
trying on a metaphor

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

Janaina Medeiros
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Today's Document
Sade Olutola
Cosimo Galluzzi

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@theartofmadeline
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

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@namereclaimed
Send Σ(O_O;) for my characters reaction to having their clothes unbuttoned/unzipped by yours.
Send me a "α" for a starter where my muse is your muse's alpha. Send me a "Ω" for a starter where my muse is your muse's omega.
askboxmemethings:
Note: A/B/O information can be read here.
The, what is that. An ice cream cone? The weird thing. // from namereclaimed SHUT UP Idwiw >.> I just like making Brennan uncomfortable because I'm terrible.
Send Me 🍠 To Walk On My Muse Masturbating! - @namereclaimed
He was almost there so he was not paying attention to anyone or anything.
namereclaimed:
There’s a strangled grunt in answer, an answer of indeterminate meaning, but it’s not like he’s got anything better to offer. A warming in his belly, sure, a thrill of something twisting in his guts at the idea, but that’s nothing he can easily convey.
Instead, fingers twist towards the other’s when they brush, like a plant seeking sunlight, establishing more deliberate contact. Lips twist, a brief, awkward smile as he tries to find words.
“…oh. I… Couldn’t stop watching,” he mumbled, lowering his head in embarrassment.
Brennan investigated the other man’s expression for something that even he did not know what it was, then he turned his face to the other side, blushing violently as he felt the touch tighten, be accepted.
“Oh. Right. Ahn…” Timidly lacing his fingers with Max’s he smiled shyly and looked sideways at the man. “Did you…Did you like it?” He bites his lips and nudges Max with his shoulder. “No need to be embarrassed about that…” he assures, chuckling.
The answer lies thick in his throat, comes out closer to a grunt than real words, but he nods to make the sentiment clearer. Licks his lips, uncertainty and anticipation warring in his belly, then, on impulse, closes the distance to kiss the other man. Careful but deliberate, hesitant but wanting, and honestly he's always been better with actions than words anyway.
Send ➺to find my muse badly wounded and bleeding after a battle.
Do you miss Furiosa and the Wives?
"Sometimes. Still see Furiosa. When I'm in the area."
namereclaimed:
Max frowned at her then, weighing her words against what he’d already decided about the world. There was a certain amount of truth in her words, sure; he’d known many more overbearing Alphas, those who treated omegas like they were subhuman, and a few more humane ones who nonetheless were unequivocally In Charge and expected nothing but submission and obedience. She wasn’t anything like anyone would expect in an Alpha. So he stared and hummed in thought as he weighed his own response, because she may have been right that she wasn’t any kind of a typical Alpha, but that didn’t mean she was a bad one, necessarily. Not as far as he was concerned, anyway, because he wasn’t a typical omega either, at least not in most respects.
Eventually he shook his head with a grunt of disagreement and, after looking around to be sure they were (relatively) safe for the moment, dropped to his knees, mostly to make a point. Because everything else aside, regardless of what she thought he knew perfectly well who was in charge.
“Strongest doesn’t always mean biggest. Or the one who demands the most respect. Loyalty.” He paused, licked his lips, mouth twisting as he worked out the rest of the point. “You lead. Treat me like I’m human, not an animal. Or property. Better way to get loyalty that way. Don’t mind having somebody like that for an Alpha.”
she was taken aback by max’s actions, even more so by his words. the war mother paused, her dark hues fixed on his, tears swelling within her eyes as he spoke. how did she wind up with this omega? he was much too good for her and now,… the girl choked, covering her face in shame. she didn’t want to use him in the ways any other alpha would. she still hadn’t a single interest in breeding, just needing him for protection and that constant reassurance that she wasn’t alone in this cruel wasteland. dropping her hands, she stepped forward, her fingers brushing over his cheeks, then up, back through his hair. the alpha leaned in, gracing his forehead with a long, endearing kiss before a sob escaped her chest.
she dropped to her knees in the sand, looking up at him with teary eyes and a gentle smile, her hands on either side of his face. “ i wish it were you instead of me. i’d follow you to the ends of the wasteland and back again, max. “ and she meant it. every word. every syllable. she wanted so much happiness for her omega. so much more than she could give.
unlike other alphas, she loved her omega. truly. jolene dared to draw max in closer, her lips brushing over his timidly, waiting for his response before she finally pressed them into his. her fingers curled in his dark locks and at that moment,… the little alpha wanted nothing more than to be as close to him as she could possibly get and never leave. ever.
Max dropped his head in response to her words, at a loss for a response, because he wasn’t a leader, not really. Wasn’t someone to be followed, at least not as far as he was concerned. Any time he was left in some kind of charge bad things happened. It never ended well. He’d long since given up any idea of changing his standing, instead opting for only being his own kind of omega. It worked out better that way.
But he couldn’t put it all into words, not really, not without stumbling over them and sliding off into a jumbled mess of stilted syllables and ideas, so he sat there and listened to her and avoided her gaze rather than outright arguing with her. Spent the time leaning into the contact instead, relishing the trace of fingertips, the graze of lips on open and filthy skin. ...at least, until she pulled him in closer, body moving to adjust to the shift, and then she was pressing lips to his, hands moving to grip haphazardly cut and shaved hair and it was all he could do not to openly shudder under the attention, a quiet sigh escaping him as he returned the kiss, albeit a little cautiously.
namereclaimed:
He dropped to the ground when she fell (not that he had much of a choice, considering), catching her as they landed. He traced fingertips along her back, making more wordless sounds in his throat, trying to soothe. If there was something wrong he could try to fix it, but he couldn’t do that if she was like this.
“I’m not. I’ve got you. Gotta slow it down.”
her frail form settled against his, her mind fighting to match the road warrior’s slow, steady rhythm. she closed her eyes, trembling in his arms while she allowed his words to sink in. it wasn’t that she felt unsafe. it was the thought that she’d just killed someone. someone she had promised to protect. tears streaked her filthy cheeks and she gripped the front of his shirt tightly.
“ one of my pups was in that rig we blew up. “ she sobbed. “ my babies,… “
He hummed, in sympathy, in commiseration, in understanding, he didn’t specify but he figured it didn’t really matter. Ghosts were rough to deal with, no matter how new or old. He wouldn’t try to take that away from her, or minimize it. It was what it was.
Of course, that didn’t make him any less uncomfortable, but it wasn’t like he could do anything about that right now, not when she was practically falling apart in his lap.
“M’sorry,” he mumbled, at a loss for much else. “But just breathe for now. We’ll deal with that after.”
there was unbridled fear in the war mother’s eyes, her lips locked in a frown as she frantically swallowed air. her fingers gripped his wrists as her gaze found his, soft whimpering escaping her chest as she choked out his name. “ m a x. max i can’t. i can’t breathe. please. i’m so s c a r e d. “ she cried, fat tears streaming down her cheeks as her fingers dug into the soft underside of his wrists.
she wasn’t intending to harm him, no. but in her panic, she was unable to prevent it. she needed something to ground her. his touch was doing well, but she needed something more than his palms on her face. “ don’t let me go. please don’t let me go. “ jo pleaded, a sob rocking her tiny frame as she reached up to grip the front of his jacket. at this point she was wheezing, the air now feeling thin while tiny spots danced across her vision. she was growing weaker by the second, and it showed as she began to wobble in his grasp. suddenly she lurched forward, crashing into him and collapsing into the sand. she was awake, but only just.
@namereclaimed cont.
He dropped to the ground when she fell (not that he had much of a choice, considering), catching her as they landed. He traced fingertips along her back, making more wordless sounds in his throat, trying to soothe. If there was something wrong he could try to fix it, but he couldn’t do that if she was like this.
“I’m not. I’ve got you. Gotta slow it down.”
“ i can’t breathe, i can’t – ”
@belcvedcne
He huffs and rumbles, some kind of answer that never quite reaches coherency, then reaches for her. Careful. Deliberate. Cups the side of her face as he moves to stand directly in front of her. Tilts her head so she doesn’t have any other choice than to look at him.
“You can.”
Whether she can or not, or more accurately whether she’ll continue to be able to, that’s beyond his knowledge right now, but if she keeps on the way she is she’s going to run headlong into a different problem. He knows that.
“Focus on me.”
Some people are just born to fight, I think. It’s not that they’re born brave. It’s not that they’re born strong. It’s just that the universe has decided that this one, this one will have grit and fire and steel in their blood. And it’ll be tested, this cosmic mettle of theirs. They’ll face trial after trial, be broken and damaged in countless ways. But this one was born to fight. Maybe it’s not the life they would have chosen. Maybe they’d love to lay down their arms. But they were born to fight. It’s what they know. It’s what they do best. It’s all they can do.
" does it hurt when i touch it? "
@belcvedcne
The exhale was rough, but his expression didn’t change much, he just gritted his teeth and grunted in answer. Yeah, it hurt, but it wasn’t any worse than plenty of other things he’d dealt with. And lived through.
…and then he shifted to try to get more comfortable and it felt like his entire side was on fire, muscles jumping in protest and it was all he could do to keep still.
" what do you live for? "
@belcvedcne
His mouth pulled into a frown as he thought. Wasn’t something he’d thought much about, not in a long time anyway.
“Don’t know.”
" bite me. "
@belcvedcne
Max exhaled sharply, the only sign of frustration on his face other than the straight line of his mouth.
“Could have just said no.”
hurt meme.
“ i got you. it’s gonna be okay, you’re going to be okay.”
“i feel like everyone’s miles away from me.”
“my mind is a dark place. you don’t want to be there.”
“i know this hurts, but you have to stay awake.”
“don’t close your eyes, please don’t close your eyes!”
“i just want to be numb, i don’t want to feel anything.”
“please don’t do this, don’t act like you care.”
“you don’t care, nobody cares, just leave.”
“you’re my friend, of course i fucking care.”
“i can’t give up on you, so please don’t give up on yourself.”
“i love you so much, i forgot what hating myself felt like.”
“i fucked up, why do you not care?”
“i can’t walk, just go on without me.”
“you have broken ribs, take it easy.”
“i have no idea how to do cpr.”
“whose blood is that?”
“apply pressure to the wound, don’t let go.”
“don’t you dare fucking let go!”
“what the hell happened to you?”
“are they dead? did you kill them?”
“do you know what you’ve done?”
“you’re either with me or against me.”
“who the hell did this to you?”
“are you alright? you hit your head pretty hard…”
“i can’t see!! what’s happening to me?”
“when was the last time you ate?”
“what do you mean you’re fine? you are not fine!”
“i’m fine, it’s just a flesh wound, i’ll be okay.”
“for how long? how long were you bottling this up?“
“there’s so much blood, you won’t last.”
“are you… throwing up in there?”
“why aren’t you eating?”
“just breathe… you’re okay, i promise, just breathe.”
“i can’t breathe, i can’t –”
“i woke up, & you were gone.”
“just tell me something, was it really worth it?”
“it’s okay to hurt & breakdown. you don’t have to be strong all the time.”
namereclaimed:
Instinct kicks in before he can get a leash on it, honed by experience and shit luck; he lashes out with fists and feet as the rope lowers, growls and shouts muffled protests, a wild animal in the shape of a man and never mind that he’ll probably break his own neck if he breaks the other’s concentration. It’s freedom and an unknown and the combination doesn’t bode well, or at least is enough reason to fight on reflex.
And then there’s a man – a kid, practically – with a deceptively kind face and concern in his eyes, and Max isn’t quite sure what to make of it but it’s enough of a surprise to get him to stop fighting, even if the wild look is still there. He coughs when the gag loosens, sucks in a few breaths not soaked in sweat and spit and whatever was on the damn thing before it ended up in his mouth and mostly stares. Tugs on the rest of his bonds impatiently, restless movement with some purpose in it but keeps still enough when it’s obvious the other is trying to help, for some reason, then pulls his arms to himself and starts trying to work some feeling back in past the pins and needles dancing across the nerves.
He’s silent for a few long moments, staring and kneading muscles, before he finally hazards a mumbled “thanks”. There’s another long pause, considering, and then more words, voice low and hoarse, like he hasn’t used it in a while.
“You one of them?” He didn’t look it, but looks could be deceiving.
After releasing the other man from the ropes, Brennan sat back onto his heels just watching the other intently, a satisfied and curious smile on his lips.
The man did not seem to be hurt, just sore…nor did he seem ready to attack him which was even better. He nodded at the thank you and pulled a small bottle from his jacket pocket, offering it to his (hopefully) new friend. Bourbon. For now anyway since water very well hidden in his refuge.
“One of them? Them who?” he asks, still looking at the other man like he was made of gold or something equally precious. And for Brennan he kinda is. The boy really hates to be alone and he has been alone for a long, long time.
He accepted the bottle but sniffed it heavily before taking a careful sip, pulling a face after. He handed it back.
“Water’d be better.”
Food too. But it’s at least something to take away the dryness in his mouth, even if all it really does is remind his body that it’s had to go without.
“You know who.” Maybe he does, maybe he doesn’t, but the words are automatic because who hasn’t run into the scavenging ghosts in the dunes once or twice. Or those like them. “The War Boys.”
❥ Running your hand over their arm and gently pulling them close.
@jobassaschild
Max blinks in momentary surprise, balance upset when she pulls but quickly regained as he stumbles a step to correct. He looks from arm to face and back, mentally pulling all the pieces together and trying to formulate a response before the moment passes, but all he really manages is a smile, albeit one that comes more easily in her presence than for most he knows or comes across these days, and a rumbled ‘Hey’. They’re close now, close enough to share space and air but without the press of urgency from one threat or another, so he’s left more or less staring, off-set while he tries to resolve the context.
Furiosa returned his rumble with a quiet one of her own, not quite meeting his inquisitive grin. They’d been on the lookout for meat all day, with little more than a couple crows to show for it, and it would be dark soon. She hated going back, every single time, and with a car-full of blankets and rations, she was tempted to stay the night out on the dunes.
The Citadel wasn’t home. Not yet. Maybe not ever. She felt more at home out here with him, even if she couldn’t find the words to tell him. And more than that, it wasn’t often they had so much time alone together.
“Might have more luck when the sun goes down.”
The Citadel wasn’t home for Max either. Nowhere was, but at least the dunes were a place he understood. They were familiar. The Citadel was full of people, and for as much as she’d helped him be more than just the Road Warrior, it still wasn’t a place he felt comfortable. Better his car and the sand under his feet and the sky overhead. Better scrounging and scavenging and making his own way. It wasn’t much of a life, but it was his own, the hardened rigors of it eased some with the reminder she provided. It’s Enough.
He nods in answer; the more sizeable sources of food are more likely to come out when the sun isn’t so high, when the cost of their roaming isn’t so dear.
“And if not, we’ll go further tomorrow. It’s out there. Just have to find it.”
edenofelysium:
Your muse finds my muse locked away in an abandoned building, bruised and shocked. Send “Who did this to you?” to help my muse.
or send “Serves you right” to provoke them.