Drabble #2
Jul. 8th, 2017 09:36 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mishisingsbtw here is a picture of my lone wanderer. I used Nuska's Women of the Wasteland mod. It gives her a pretty visible neck seam but I don't give a shit. Her name is Plutonia but I call her Toni for short. (Don't ask me why I called her Plutonia, it seemed like a good idea at the time.)
They're in a metro station, but it's late, and they're tired, and they killed all the raiders, and Toni's long since stopped caring about sleeping near corpses. Needs are needs. She knows Butch is gonna squawk. He's still squeamish about stuff like that. He'll learn. Nevertheless: "All right, let's stop for the night. Take a nuka break. Pile up the bodies in a corner. And Butch-"
It's the first time she's looked at him since she gave him that pile of scavenged equipment. She screws her eyes shut. Opens them again.
"What are you wearing?"
"Oh, this? You gave it to me."
"What is that, Raider Painspike chic?" she asks, forgetting that those are her private names for the various looks raiders seem to prefer. "Nevermind. I gave those to you to carry, not to wear."
"Well I thought I'd try it out, see if it's more durable than my old duds."
"You are literally not wearing a shirt. How is that going to protect you?"
"Don't tell me you're embarrassed, babe?" he strikes a pose, grinning insufferably.
To Toni's horror, she feels her face begin to heat up as her gaze involuntarily travels downward from his face, and goddammit, she will die before she admits that he's got a nice body. It was nice to look at before (pretty much the only nice thing about him), not that she'd ever seen him without a shirt before and... holy shit, is that a six-pack? Oh god, she's oggling. She screws her eyes shut and manages to aim her glare directly at her companion's face. A face with a grin that is even wider and more smug since she last saw it.
"Don't call me 'babe'. And put a shirt on."
Bonus:
Butch: Aww yeah, these abs could stop bullets!
Toni: Please let's not put that to the test.
(I really like posing screenshots. And mods.)
They're in a metro station, but it's late, and they're tired, and they killed all the raiders, and Toni's long since stopped caring about sleeping near corpses. Needs are needs. She knows Butch is gonna squawk. He's still squeamish about stuff like that. He'll learn. Nevertheless: "All right, let's stop for the night. Take a nuka break. Pile up the bodies in a corner. And Butch-"
It's the first time she's looked at him since she gave him that pile of scavenged equipment. She screws her eyes shut. Opens them again.
"What are you wearing?"
"Oh, this? You gave it to me."
"What is that, Raider Painspike chic?" she asks, forgetting that those are her private names for the various looks raiders seem to prefer. "Nevermind. I gave those to you to carry, not to wear."
"Well I thought I'd try it out, see if it's more durable than my old duds."
"You are literally not wearing a shirt. How is that going to protect you?"
"Don't tell me you're embarrassed, babe?" he strikes a pose, grinning insufferably.
To Toni's horror, she feels her face begin to heat up as her gaze involuntarily travels downward from his face, and goddammit, she will die before she admits that he's got a nice body. It was nice to look at before (pretty much the only nice thing about him), not that she'd ever seen him without a shirt before and... holy shit, is that a six-pack? Oh god, she's oggling. She screws her eyes shut and manages to aim her glare directly at her companion's face. A face with a grin that is even wider and more smug since she last saw it.
"Don't call me 'babe'. And put a shirt on."
Bonus:
Butch: Aww yeah, these abs could stop bullets!
Toni: Please let's not put that to the test.
(I really like posing screenshots. And mods.)
