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#any and all input on this would be helpful and massively appreciated
batmanisagatewaydrug · 8 months
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Hello sex witch,
My partner and I are both ace and we very rarely have sex; when we do it's usually mutual masturbation or finger sex. So this isn't a massive part of my life, but something I've been overthinking and would like a starting point for understanding.
I've recently discovered about myself that in the heat of the moment, I don't think about it, but I naturally start begging for him to stop when endorphins are high and it feels overwhelmingly good. In these moments I don't actually want him to stop and I've expressed this (I have a safeword I use for actually letting up), but it makes him uncomfortable to keep going when I beg for him to stop. This sounds like it might be related to a kink on my part, but I have absolutely no experience or language to even start understanding that about myself and what it can look like in partnered hand sex. I don't know how to explain it to my partner because I don't even understand why I do it; the first time I begged for him to stop it was completely involuntary and we set up the safeword after so we could keep going. It honestly surprised and kind of concerned me too, because I wasn't expecting that reaction from myself, and even now that I can describe what is happening, I don't know what to do with it. I'd appreciate any thoughts or advice you have!
hi anon,
I'm not 100% sure what kind of input or advice you want here, because I'm not really sure what the question actually is, but let me take my best crack at it.
sex is, frequently, very enjoyable. it is also frequently a lot of stimuli to take at once. these things can be true simultaneously, and sometimes a degree over overstimulation is part of what makes it enjoyable for people. human brains find pleasure and gratification in all manner of discomfort, etc.
however, even if you're enjoying something, your knee-jerk reaction can still be to tell someone to stop if you're feeling any amount of discomfort. something similar may happen with, for instance, someone laughing while being tickled by a friend or partner, or even in non-sexual circumstances, such as someone playing in a pool telling a friend to stop while they two of them are laughing and splashing each other. as in many situations, consent and willingness to participate can't be determined from words alone, but also from tone, context, body language, existing knowledge of a person and their boundaries, etc.
it sounds like that's what y'all are doing here, and that context might help put your boyfriend's mind at ease. implementing a safe word is also great, that's the kind of tool that can help make crucial judgment calls re: consent. it sounds like the two of you are already doing a great job navigating this and figuring out your boundaries and safety practices together!
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dotthings · 1 year
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An addition thought about Jared's comments about Dean, and here's the extra irony of it all, and of Jared stans embracing it without even thinking -- Jared contradicts Sam.
Sam would never. Actual Sam would never encourage Dean with any kind of idea of oh btw and if you decide to hurry up and follow me sooner that's fine.
Sam. Would want. Dean. To. Live. and he'd insist.
No I will not spend hours putting together a massive post of receipts on how hard Sam fought for Dean at times, or Sam praying for Dean, begging, because "Dean deserves a life" the list goes on and on and on and I'm tired of stans who don't understand the canon on their own supposed favorite causing people who do understand the canon to have to work so hard to counter their illogical canon-cancelling bs.
Jared doesn't understand his own character and this is not the first time he's said something upsetting that actually goes against Sam, not just disrespectful to Dean.
His own stans don't even notice or don't care how off his takes are.
Despite all the nonsense over Jared going back years, I've been able to separate Sam from it. Sam is fictional.
So now I'm irritated on Sam's behalf. The character does get a lot of hate, and the warping of the canon doesn't help, I'm not saying Sam is perfect and can do no wrong, but the sum total of Sam is good and I appreciate Sam. Sam deserves better than having him be so badly mis-represented by his actor.
This post should make the antis who stalk my blog angriest. I really hope it pisses them off. Yes that's right antis, I've got my dirty Dean loving, Cas loving, Sam loving fingers all over your guy, oh no what are you going to do!!!! I've been an spn fan for, what, 18 years now, and I've always loved Sam, not just Dean and Cas. Try and pry Sam away from me. At least I really think about him and am conscious of canon Sam.
Nor will I entertain "nobody understands these characters better than blah blah blah" -- usually I'd be respectful of that, after someone has inhabited a character inside their head for that long, of course. But what happens when an actor breaks that good faith, that contract? Jared broke it. I don't have to mindlessly repeat whatever Jared stans dictate I do.
And sad to say I don't think Jared is going to prove himself or repair this so it's down to I really hope that Jared's viewpoints will have modulation and mitigation so Sam doesn't get ruined. I fully do not trust Jared's input on anything spn any more. And it's my right. The same people who've been screaming rage on the internet for a year and a half hating on Jensen on the same grounds do not get to tell me not to have opinions on my own damn tumblr. Full stop.
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polygunweek · 8 months
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Hello one and all!
Following the results of the interest check, we've decided there will definitely be a Polygun Week and almost certainly some form of Big Bang alongside it. However, we are still trying to decide which form this will take and would like your input.
Formal = official period of around a month of writer sign ups. Writers will submit summaries of fics they'd like to write. Afterwards artists will look through the summaries and pick which ones they'd be interested in. The organisers will then match up artists and writers and they have a creation period of a few months to create a fanfic with accompanying art. There would likely be a minimum word count requirement and a pinch hitter sign up for both artists and writers after the inital matching is done. There is a higher chance that writers will be paired with an artist, though because there are more writers than artists, we cannot guarantee this.
Informal = artists and writers share ideas in a Polygun discord server and contact people who share idea summaries that interest them. There is no official matching process or sign up period, meaning that people can join in later without having to go through a pinch hitter process. This does, however, mean there is no guarantee that writers will for sure be linked with an artist, but it does mean writers and artists can work with multiple people. It also means writers can create works based on artists' ideas, rather than only the other way around.
Your feedback here would be massively appreciated and will help us decide how to run this event! If you have any further questions, send us an ask!
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bondsmagii · 2 years
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heya so random question but how did you develop the discipline to read three hours every day as like. a Thing as opposed to just when you felt like it. bc I. Am trying so hard and struggling with just even fifteen minutes a day even tho I have the time and I’m like ??? why brain so bad at habit making when it’s something I enjoy !! And anyways I was wondering how you do it / started doing it and if you had any advice for someone who also probably has adhd and too many books they want to read 😩💜
I am so sorry it took me like. months. to reply to this lmao I am not often online long enough to respond properly to messages and I have Standards (even if it takes me months...)
anyway. my secret was simple. a stopwatch. (or the timer on your phone, but I find a stopwatch makes it easier to avoid endless scrolling every time you pause to go pee or something.)
when I first started getting back into reading, my attention span was god-awful and there was no way I could to 3-4 hours of reading a day (I started aiming for 3, and now do 4, except on weekends where I read for as little or as long as I like). like, the chunk was so fucking massive that lol no. so in the beginning I aimed for 3 hours, but realistically I was just trying to get as close as I could.
the stopwatch was the trick to this. you do not have to do this reading all in one single chunk. I would start the timer, and read for a while, and then when my attention began straying I would pause the timer and go do something else. I'd do this all day, and then see where I was at by the end of the day. at first it was 20 minutes, 40 minutes, an hour. gradually it began creeping up. soon it was at 3 hours, and I was reading in chunks of an hour at a time. it was slow but gradual progress, but after a year I was reading for 4 hours a day and, if I wanted to, I could read that 4 hours in one single chunk.
so yeah -- be patient, work your way up to it, and internalise the idea that you do not have to sit down and do it all in one go if you don't want to. even when you reach the point where you could, you still don't have to if you're not feeling it. an Endless Task Block is absolutely terrible for ADHD, so remove that block. stop and start. do other things in between. and remember even in the early days where you're not getting close to your goal, you're still making progress.
(also, as a side note: cutting down my time on social media helped. the instant gratification I got from the constant new content made it very difficult for me to see the point in drawn-out tasks with no immediate entertainment value, and literally rotted my brain with mediocre content to the point where I couldn't appreciate anything that wasn't immediately "lol, reblog" or whatever. going cold turkey and kicking my internet addiction has done absolute wonders for my attention span, not just in reading, but also in all aspects of my life. when you get offline, time slows down, and that's good. an ADHD brain needs constant input, but eventually the input becomes so constant it's overwhelming, and it no longer works. sometimes you have to reset.)
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maddiecopesblog · 2 months
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Email interaction with Amanda Fletcher
I was really inspired by Mandy's work and the way she writes so I wanted to ask for her input on my project. I sent a message on her contact form and she agreed to answer some of my questions. Below is our email interaction, in bold, is Mandy's replies.
'Hi Mandy,
Thank you so much for your reply, I really appreciate the help. 
I would like to know more about the kind of impact that you think functional pockets would have on women’s lives.  
As well as this, in my course, I'm really interested in advertising and campaigns. I'd love to create something that showcases all the things women hold, both emotionally and physically while using pockets as a symbol for the burden women carry. Is there a time or story you’ve heard that resonated with you, where you think holding your possessions close to you in pockets would’ve made a difference?
Also, slightly more silly question, practicality and aesthetics aside, if you could put anything in your pockets, what would it be? 
Thanks again for your help,
Maddie'
'Hi Maddie,
Sure, no problem.  
For me women can often be labelled under 2 stereotypes.  The woman whose job it is be looked at, remaining pretty for the benefit of others (pockets spoiling 'the line'), and the carer who looks after everyone else ( a massive handbag).  As a woman in my early 40s I have experienced both. 
Pockets mean an ability to carry your own personal stuff and only your own stuff.  To exist as an independent, self reliant human being in your own right.  It doesn't stop you carrying a bag if you want to, but it's not there as a default setting.
In work, I think it is important to have decent pockets, because a) Everyone needs a phone handy nowadays to conduct any kind of business, and having to root around at the bottom of a bag for it can be such a hindrance and b) because having your hands in the pockets is a confident stance ( and can also help to stash them somewhere if you tend to fidget when nervous).
For me, though, pockets in pyjamas were a revelation on this journey I've been on since I started the site.  I didn't actually realised they existed.  They would have been super handy, in the early days of having a  crawling baby at home, not  having had time to get dressed yet, but noticing choking hazards, that I just needed to hide away!   This is still an issue today with often matching sets of men's and women's pyjamas where the men's has pockets, but the woman's doesn't.  What's that about?
I have actually started wearing dresses a lot more than I used to, now that I can find them with pockets.  However, my favourite item has been my coat which has lots of internal and external pockets in which I can fit a book. I have spent a lot of time waiting for hospital appointments over the last few months, and it has been invaluable.
Books I can recommend on the topic of pockets are:
The Pocket: A Hidden History of Women's Lives - Ariane Fennetaux and Barbara Burman.  I love this books at it shows a history of  poorer women who have no written history, but a great deal of information can be taken from the contents of pockets
Pockets: An Intimate History of How We Keep Things Close - Hannah Carlson.  I haven't read this one, but I intend to.
I hope that helps, but if you need more info, please let me know.
Kind Regards
Mandy'
'Hi Mandy,
Thank you so much, this is so insightful and beautifully written. 
I hadn’t thought about the different ways in which women hold things and the way they are portrayed. This has given me a lot to think about. 
It often seems women have come so far in terms of owning possessions, yet you are right, pockets in many ways symbolise self reliance and independence and it is something that women frequently lack. If I am wearing a fitted dress with no pockets,  I give my phone, (which I pay for) my keys, (to the house I pay rent for) and my money, (which I earn) to my male friend to hold, as he has pockets. In that moment, despite my apparent independence, he has everything that I own. 
As far as matching sets of pyjamas go, that seems like inequality in plain sight, I have no idea how a company could justify that. 
You have been so helpful, I can’t thank you enough. 
If you’re interested, I can send you the work I create from this project once its done?
Kind regards,
Maddie'
'Hi Maddie,
Thanks so much!
I really love how you put it here 
"If I am wearing a fitted dress with no pockets,  I give my phone, (which I pay for) my keys, (to the house I pay rent for) and my money, (which I earn) to my male friend to hold, as he has pockets. In that moment, despite my apparent independence, he has everything that I own. "
It sums up the situation perfectly. I was wondering if I could quote you on my socials? 
I would also love to see the finished project, thank you!
Good luck with it!
Kind Regards,
Mandy'
There are several parts of our interaction that I found so useful. Firstly, I had never really thought about the way she talks about the 'two different kinds of woman'. Women in many ways are either expected to hold nothing or everything. This ties in when I disgussed my project with my mother and she immediately thought of a handbag, she is used to holding things for others.
As well as this, pockets symbolising independence and self reliance. Pockets allow for you to exist as your own self suffienct person, which a handbag implies you may be holding things for others.
Also, hands in pockets is a power stance. Which I love.
Pockets hold more power than I even realised, not just in the things they hold but the way they make us stand, what they represent in terms of what were expected to hold for ourselves and others.
I want to shed light on all the things we do, the good, the heavy, the emotional and why we need a place to put it all.
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asirensrage · 9 months
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There's often talk on Tumblr about engagement or the lack of these past years and I've seen it, even as a non- writer but I was confronted with it massively recently.
I'd been hunting for a couple of authors that had deleted their stuff and were hard to find, amazingly (PersuingTheSheleves) was able to help out a good bit, but while reading the works that had been written in 2014-2017 the chapters would usually start was a comment from the author, she was talking about leaving FFN, moving to AO3 and did people know it. Talking about how little comments she was getting on one particular story if people didnt like it she'd have to discontinue it, she was able to tell how many people had read it but none of them gave a comment, for 10/15 chapters. She then decided that she would respond to comments from FanFiction on Tumblr, It was all so interesting because this was ten years ago, but it was the same, people were not interacting and it was deflating the authors.
This one author begged for some input from us readers, reading these words now it's sad because these stories are lost to most and won't be read by anyone who is really looking for them.
Weird tangent, but I know you like talking to your readers and noone in my RL is into fanfiction. 😂
Thank you for continuing your great work 🥰🥰
Yeah, that's very true. I know from a writer's standpoint, it's frustrating seeing your view count increasing but knowing that despite numbers, there aren't any comments. Especially when on FFN you can see the view numbers per chapter, so you know people are reading to the end. It's crazy to know that it's a problem that it still continuing to happen, but I feel like it's definitely gotten worse over the years. I think it's because people get used to just liking things and moving on, like in Instagram or Tiktok.
I'm glad that you were able to have someone help, though it's always sad when you can't find the fics you remember. I have definitely had that happen before and while it's upsetting, I honestly can't blame any author for getting frustrated and uninspired. Even deleting their Especially when the few responses you do get are demands for updates or more but they don't tell you what they liked about it or, in the case of tumblr, reblog it.
I really appreciate you sending this and I definitely do enjoy talking to my readers! Don't worry, you're always welcome in my inbox.
Thank you for reaching out!!!
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semischarmed · 3 years
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“Ben”
I was out on a socially distant walk by the woods when I notice a fire dance across the night sky and into the woods. Against my better judgement, I decide to investigate.
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A small glowing silver ball sat among the forest wreckage. I reach out, almost by trance, and immediately feel a spark course through me on contact. In the process, my clothing ignites in brilliant green flame. Then, I feel a presence. Immediately, I turn around, still holding the orb. Amidst the green flame was a puddle of metallic gray slime. It vibrates before sending out a little slimy limb which slowly rocks side to side, as if to examine me, before jumping for my face.
For once in my life, I react quickly enough and instead catch the thing in my hand. It was slick, and unbelievably cold. The mass begins to glow dimly, as I hold it out in front of me. I stare at it expectantly as it again forms a tiny limb, re-examining me. In a flash of green, the little wad of silver goo transforms into what appeared to be a tiny silver human. No, human’s not quite the right word. It was humanoid, sure, but the proportions were all wrong, almost cartoon-like. It had a larger more bulbous head with large reflective eyes and a small, near indiscernible mouth. The hands were larger as well, while the arms and legs were far thinner. Despite strange the sight before me, I sense no ill intent. Its beady little black eyes watch at me, displaying not only life, but intelligence. Words cannot explain how I knew, nor can it explain why I ask my next question out loud in a language it certainly did not understand. “What are you”?
Its eyes begin to glow as it opens its mouth to speak, “Human...” it states in plain english. I jump back, almost dropping the thing out of my hand before catching it. “Thank you. I have chosen a form and language most suitable to your own. I am weak from my crash and from your atmosphere. You are not afraid or angry?” It takes its little arm and gently strokes my skin. “Your body appears to be incompatible with my physiology... perhaps due to your contact with my craft. As I understand it, your species is incredibly hostile. If you are intending on destroying me, my only wish is for a swift and painless death.”
I stood dumbfounded until I realized the small orb-egg-thing he came in was some kind of craft. “uh... this yours?”
“You seem unafraid of my presence and do not appear to intend to destroy me, despite these circumstances. Perhaps my information is incorrect? Has your planet had contact with other such beings previously?” it asked. “No.. uh, I can’t explain it but you don’t really seem like a bad-“
“-Guy” it corrected me. “My closest equivalent to your species is what you would classify a male. You appear shocked. Are you alright?”
Holy shit an actual, real-life alien! And it speaks English! I screamed in my head. Despite the absurdity, I cannot help but respond plainly, “Oh, um, this planet has not had any contact before. At least not that I’d be aware of.”
“I see, you are a friend then. Thank you human, I am in debt to you” it states. Looking at the small humanoid before me, I cannot help but want to protect it. It obviously did not intend to do anything or it would have killed me by now. Still, I felt somewhat bad, he really did not seem like a bad guy and, from the movies, it never usually ends well for the alien.
“You came in a big crash, right? So the government or whatever is probably looking for you. We should probably find a safe place for you, um... what can I call you, anyway?” I ask. It looks at me in silence again, then flashes an impossibly bright, green light from its hands before pondering for a moment, and stating “You have not lied. Thank you for your sincerity and your support. I may be called Ben.”
“Ben?” I can’t help but chuckle a little. “You travel all the way across the universe and you’re just plain old Ben?” Its formed its own little smile, which I find endearing. “My true name is—“ the rest was unintelligible. “Ben it is!” I laugh, “Look, we need to get you out of here. I’ve seen what they do to aliens in the movies.” Ben produces a small oddly heavy rock. “Understood. Please. Drop this into my crash site. It should cover our traces” it states in a weak smile before falling over momentarily. I oblige.
“Cool, cool. So...um.. what now? Also, are you alright?” I ask.
“Your planet... It is poison to my form. I am moments away from death. I need a genetic input to adapt to this atmosphere. I would feel safest inside a human.” Inside?
“Well.. uh... i dont really have much going on, on a friday night so...”
It smiles again. “I appreciate the gesture, friend, but as I have mentioned, our forms are incompatible. As such, I require a different vessel. Please select any of your choice.”
“You’re a little forward, buddy” I add playfully.
“Apologies human, your language is somewhat difficult to grasp. I appreciate any and all attempts at assistance”. The little silver alien in my hand sits down.
“Ok, let’s get you somewhere safe... Anyway I know just the guy....”
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Fucking Austin. That smug tool was the my bully from way back when and was/is a massive jerk. He was also fucking hot and he knew it. I think he got off on it too- After years of torment, I couldn’t wait for this little alien to do whatever it needed to do inside him.
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The walk back is embarrassing as my naked form scrambles in the dark, hoping to avoid any onlookers. Thankfully, it was the dead of night, and our neighborhood is fairly empty. I walk up to his garage, lit by a lone bulb, where he was presumably working on his car. Sweat and grime cover his torso. Of course, he strips to shirtless as soon as he notices me, offering me a tantalizing peek, like he always did when he brought a girl over. “Why are fucking naked you creep. The fuck you want, fag?” He sneers as his eyes immediately lock on to the small orb I am using to cover my junk.
“THIS!” I shout, extending out my other arm, holding little alien man. For a moment, nothing happens and he raises his eyebrows in amusement. It quickly shifts in shock when Ben springs to life, jumping onto Austin’s bare chest. The little silver man clings to his sweaty chest hairs, using them as leverage to scramble up Austin’s face.
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“The fuck?!” He spat as he swats at the little alien. With a fervor, Ben dodges and continues inhumanly and follows with his quick dash, crawling up to Austin’s right nose. Austin attempts to get the little silver man off him but to no avail. Despite his shape, Ben is incredibly slippery, and Austin’s thick fingers cannot get a good grasp.
Austin screams as Ben has lodged himself inside Austin’s right nose, secreting a silvery slime while he burrows ever deeper into him. Austin’s eyes shut tight and his mouth opens in anguish. “FUCK!” he shouts as he tries to pull my friend’s tiny legs out. Ben is victorious in this struggle and Austin’s fingers again slip. “AHRRG” He shouts, while right side of his face crinkles in pain. I watch in amusement as Austin is reduced to small, rhythmic grunts. “....Fu-...Fu-... FF....hu...hu”. I no longer see any semblance of my alien friend so he must have crawled deep, deep inside of Austin.
Stillness washes over Austin before he starts again, mumbling slowly. “S-stop.... get out” he repeats, as his body starts swaying back and forth and his head bobs forwards and backwards. His eyes roll to the back of his head in delirium. Abruptly, he screams “GET THE FUCK OUT” in an angry growl and one eye rolls back go lock on to me. “YOU!” He shouts. Before he can move any closer, the veins in his body flare to life and I notice they start writhing, throbbing, coursing with some silvery liquid before returning to normal. Austin’s face quickly goes from anger into unconscious stupor as a line of silvery drool escapes his mouth and his entire body begins trembling. He slumps foward and then falls. I run forward and struggle to try to hoist the massive pile of quivering meat up. Still, he topples over, falling right on top, crushing and pinning me beneath the weight of his muscled form.
Despite the situation, I am completely entranced. I can barely breath from the weight of Austin on top, only managing steady, shallow breaths. He continues convulsing, causing the day’s worth of grime and sweat to smear onto me. Hot. Just feeling him like this, feeling his skin meet and rub across mine, was turning me on. This was physically the closest I have ever been to this man. His convulsions slowly die down, until he is just sleeping on top of me, pinning me to his dirty garage floor. I remark him, the breathing in his shallow breaths, the heat from his previous struggle, his salty, putrid sweat that now caked both of us. I was taking in all the Austin that I had previously only dreamt of having.
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His gentle sleep is broken when his eyes shoot wide open. They’re incredibly wide, dilated, glassy. Silver tears escape their corners. His lips curl into an open mouth, breathy smile, and he motions to speak “..... ahhhhhhh” he states moving the muscles on his face and vocal cords as if for the first time. Despite the absurdity of the situation, I could clearly tell what was happening. Enough movies and TV and wishful dreams to more or less grasp what had just occured. The man before me was not Austin-at least, not the Austin I knew. This was all Ben.
“Sorr-“ he murmurs, as he pushes himself and his weight off me. He watches himself, first moving his digits one at a time, while he examines how muscle and sinew stretch and contract to accommodate his commands. He gently rubs his hands together, as if to wash them, remarking on every feeling. With these gentle fingers, he traces over his left bicep, following it’s curves and valleys, as if he had sculpted them himself. He tugs a little at strands of his armpit hair, remarking on the new texture, before sniffing the droplets of sweat that had clung to his fingers and making a sour face. “You humans are so fascinating. It’s like this body is constantly producing its own serum. what a wasteful process. Such a high temperature as well... your are.. inefficient models.” He licks his right bicep like a cat, which causes a stirring in my pants. “Still, these byproducts of your living... they are quite delicious”.
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Austin’s tour then follows his chest. “I see you are bound to your forms, with no ability to shift”.’ He cups his left nipple, remarking at the musculature within. “Hmm... that description is inaccurate...You appear to be somewhat capable of physical change, though not as drastically as my species.” He twirls a finger around his left nipple, smiling slightly at the stimulation. “Oh...though your species has a far heightened pleasure ceiling. This is...” He trails as he repeats the maneuver with his right nipple and stifles a moan. I stand, awestruck and slightly horny at the sight of my former bully pleasuring himself. He continues, taking his hands further down and feeling each ab before he stops at his pants. Austin pauses, curious, raising his head as if to scan his own brain for information, before flatly stating his catchphrase “Bet you’d like to suck this fat cock, wouldn’t you?” He spat to the side before immediately resuming his former tone, “Apologies, human emotions are... difficult to reign in. This vessel is responding to my intrusion unpredictably...“ He then wears Austin’s personality again. “But anyway thanks bitch, for giving me this hot, hot, jock cock. Time for me to pay up. I got cash... booze... weed... other shit” he winks. “So what’ll it be?”
In the heat of the moment, I could only reply back what I wanted. What I’ve always wanted. “Let me suck your fat cock” I reply automatically.
The mood shifts immediately and Austin’s face is perplexed. “This function you are requesting, it does not lead to procreation. It lacks any of your societal benefit...What good does it do you?” I decide to push a little further than I normally would have. “Let me show you” I state, giving him a wink. I strip Austin down and gently grab his thick cock, relishing in the moment. It flares to life, slowly hardening, increasing in size. I clasp my hand a little tighter around the rod start with slow, rhythmic strokes. Of course, I look to the face Ben was wearing for any cues, but it remains emotionless. I start to pull away before Ben finally speaks up “I see... benefit. Please, continue demonstrating”. Fuck. After all these years. All his teasing, he was finally here and he was finally mine.
“My body appears to recall this... this behavior is consiered gay, yes”
“Fuck yeah it is....”
“My body... these memories I have commandeered indicate this is something Austin is neither familiar nor entranced with. I will try to apply its equivalent knowledge accordingly” he stated flatly, somewhat confused at the situation. “Apologies... as I have mentioned, your language is a little complex.” I ignore him and continue.
“I personally.. to find this behaviour... hmmm.... acceptable...but.. he.. appears to.. I... Hmmm.... Fuuuuck!” he screamed, as his body abruptly leaned forward. His emotionless face begins to dance with a wellspring of feeling. It cringes first, then flashes into one of bliss, then pain, anger, intimidation, until settles into sneer. Mine of course flashes imminent doom. Oh Shit.
“Uh.. little buddy? You there?” I ask nervously. He grabs me, dragging my face near his. I am prepared for the worst.
“You know, he really fucking hates this. I can feel him resisting... Fuck you!” He spits. I still cannot tell who is who, until he clarifies. “Austin must really, really hate you.... but I dont” He leaned his face further in, giving me little chance to react before he jams a thick slimy tongue into my mouth. When he pulls back, his face then showed an odd emotion-cute, even. He was looking for approval. I, turned on by the past events, quietly nod in shock. Emotion immediately shifts back. “Come here, bitch!” he screams, pulling me back to him, bringing our faces close together while he hocks a wad of Austin’s spit at me. That part, I was familiar with and I instantly wince, expecting the normal pummeling I’d get. Instead, he sticks his hand down to scoop some of cum he had just released and aggressively smearing it all over my face and running Austin’s seed through my hair. “You’re mine forever, you get that right? Fuckin twerp. You fucking want this, right?” Austin stated with a sneer. He jams his tongue into my mouth again for another sloppy kiss and I explode cum in my underwear. Goddamn this was hot. Fuck. All those years of torture and in the end, here he was, seeking my approval, seeking to be mine. The sneer plastered on his face shifts immediately to one of concern and validation-seeking.
“Are you alright, friend? I apologize for the scare, I was attempting to follow-“
“No, no, no...” I mumble in heat. “Turn... FUCK...turn whatever the fuck that was back on. This is, god, this is everything.”
My little buddy complies, rolling Austin’s head and eyes back before immediately shifting his face back to his trademark sneer and giving my face a sloppy lick. “Bro, this body fucking hates you. You know? Feelings are created by brain and all that shit, like damn... all I wanna do inside this hunk of flesh is give you the pummeling you fucking deserve.” he states menacingly, before giving my face another lick. “But dont worry I fucking love you, bro. Look at me when I’m fucking talking. I am Austin. New and improved. Maybe this was what I was missing in my home-world. Maybe your degenercy has tainted me. Maybe this vessel has. To be honest, we don’t really give a fuck. Well, he does but I speak for us both now. This little... experience...has been a delight and a revelation. According to this meatbag’s brain ‘you’re gay as shit’ so, help me to help you. Austin’s gay as shit now too. For you at least. Help your daddy Austin betray his species find me some more of these kinds of males. Whichever you like. I’ll make our wildest dreams come true.” He comes in for another sloppy kiss, and sticks his muscular hand down my pants, corralling my seed and scooping out it out moments later. It is slick with my cum. “Hahaha this body finds this act so revolting. According to his memories, he finds you utterly disgusting. Well... I’m into it, let’s stick some of you inside Dear old Austin. I’ll stuff your cum so deep in him, he’ll never get it out. Our boy is quite the fighter too, he’s resisting me, even now”. Austin regains momentary control. “NO FUCKING WAY” His arm struggles and shakes as it brings the cum-covered hand to his mouth. In the end, Ben is successful and Austin has no choice but to jam the slimy hand to his mouth, slurping each digit individually, caking his insides with me. “Mmmmm but you taste so fucking good...bro... well to me at least. This body physically hates this. Too bad our little Austin isn’t in control right now. And when I’m done with him, he’ll come back wanting more”. He repeats the gesture with his other hand, and cracks his neck, piloting Austin far more naturally. “As long as we keep him well-fed, I can continue to pilot this hot piece of ass without resistance. We will transcend this meat-suit. With me running the show from this fucking hot bod, and you at our side, we will be unstoppable.” He states in deranged glee. I worry slightly until Austin’s persona flips to Ben’s normal formal tone. “Ah, apologies, as you know, this body thinks very highly of himself” he states with a slight chuckle ”but no worries... no more outbursts.”
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“Some more information about myself, while I make some rearrangements to this body’s brain. My species has the ability to commandeer others into vessels, though I believe this is a byproduct of our formless nature more than our intended purpose.  You see, home-world has isolationist tendencies. We keep to ourselves. I am somewhat aberrant in this matter. We are powered by genetic diversity, yet they choose to remain within the one world when there is a whole universe outside of home to explore. I am different. I want it all, I want to see, hear, feel, experience what this wonderful universe has to offer. For that, I was cast away, to travel this lone plane with my craft. This life is a quiet one, so I am fortunate to have met you.” He strokes my cheek lovingly with Austin’s hands. I initially wince out of habit, but he seems to have understood. “Thank you, for everything,” Ben says sincerely with a kind smile. I beam back but immediately blurt out what had been on my mind throughout his whole monologue “why me though?”
“As you know, each human’s genetic output is a mix of information.”
“Uh huh” I trail, struggling to follow along.
“Well, your specific combination produces a nectar to our species which we would find intoxicating. Perhaps it had been slightly altered by my crash.”  Ben stares at me with Austin’s eyes, relaying an intelligence that my former bully had never previously had. “Beyond that, in my eons of travel, I have never met a more kind or accommodating individual”
“I like your genetic material, your signature, your blend...it is... hmmm...there is no equivalent phrase for this- at least within your capacity of emotion- but make no mistake, it’s delicious and I would like some more.” His demeanor shifts. “Do you like Austin? Do you like me?” He asks in a playful tone as he circles Austin’s nipple with his finger. Austin then grabs my arms, rubbing them across his abs. “Yeah, this meatsuit is a fucking keeper, isn’t he? I can tell you love this bitch” He teases with Austin’s mannerisms. Ben has been getting really good at this, he’s practically imperceptible from Austin when he’s acting. I nod eagerly in approval, still feeling up my former tormentor as he stretches his arms and gives a yawn.
“Good, good. Well he’s all set. Let me just get our friend Austin prepped. I will to give him some autonomy but, given my penchant for your genetic information, you may see a slight adjustment to his personality.” He winks. “Please bring my pod over, I must conserve some energy, I believe to you humans to understand the equivalent to be hibernation.” I pull the pod up to Austin. “Lower bitch” he commands, grabbing my arms and pulling the pod to his dick. He strips Austin naked before wrapping Austin’s vascular hands over mine, moving them in a way that splits the pod open. He then uses Austins hands to slowly wrap my fingers around his dick. “Pump,” he commanded. I comply, masturbating his dick until it explodes a stream of silver all over the pod. The silver gel congeals into the pod and Austin’s body drops unconscious. I catch the pod and gently place it on his table.
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I watch Austin expectantly. He wakes, showing me a look of confusion before sternly asking “the fuck are you looking at, fag?” He then sniffs the air, raising his thick biceps to quickly verify if the smell had been emanating from his armpits. He grimaces, “Goddamn I reek...Did you do this?” Eyes lock with mine as I see only fury blazing. His eyes go wide as his face displays the recollection of our nightly encounter. He quickly runs over, blocking any escape route out of his garage. “You bitch!” He shouts. Before I can react, Austin pushes me up to the wall, shouldering my body and neck and locking me and my airways in place. He raises a fist, and I flinch until... well... nothing. I watch his face, attempting to discern what had just occurred. He releases his grasp slightly, allowing me to finally catch my breath.
He was still furious. Unimaginably so, but I see it tinged with something else as well... shame? And I then notice another feeling, as I begin to feel his heartbeat and breathing quicken. It’s an emotion I have only been able to see in him once- only when Ben had been controlling him. It was lust. He again motions angrily to punch me with a muscular right hook, before stopping his own hand, mere inches from my face.
“I UGH...FUUUUCK....” he shouts, looking away seemingly angry at himself before he punches the wall beside me, leaving a dent. He looks back at me, motioning to give my cheek a tender stroke before he catches himself and shakes his head in anger. “That spiteful bitch! I dont know what little trick you pulled you little asshole, but... hmmmm” he moans, smelling the scent of my fear and desperation... ”man have you always smelled this good?” he mumbled quietly to himself. I decide to take a little risk with this opportunity “Yeah bro? I taste pretty good too,” I state seductively.
That seems to have set him off. He was still somewhat angry obviously, but the lust only seems to have only deepened and overtaken him. He rushes our bodies closer. Sweat drenched abs hover tantalizing close to my stomach, as his sculpted biceps and vascular forearms bound my cheeks. He leans in, inches from my face.
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“You want this ass, right? I can be a fag too, only for you” he whispers, leaning even closer to me as I breath in my prior bully’s hot steamy breaths. I instantly go hard. He notices and proceeds by planting a slow, sloppy kiss on my lips. I have to admit, Austin was a great kisser, better than Ben even. Hungrily, Ravenously, his lips pry mine open as his thick tongue dances inside my mouth, greedily tasting me. I reciprocate. In turn, he hugs our bodies together, and I feel his large form encapsulate my own with a warmth and an odd tenderness that I had never even fathomed him capable of generating.
He pulls back, breaking me out of my trance. “But, can you put that little thing back in me... I... uh... together...we uh...look, I want him back. I need him back.“ He begs. “Something...missing inside me.... fill it”.
Goddamnit Ben. I gesture with my head to the motionless pod containing my friend while I chuckle to myself. “He’s sleeping”. Slight adjustment my ass.
He looks back at the pod, obviously disappointed. Then he looks at me, gaze softened, the facade from his usual persona all but broken, “Sorry, can’t help myself... well fuck it, I know you always wanted this anyway,” he mumbled as he nuzzled my neck and shoulder, taking in my essence in deep inhales. I feel myself blush as he continues and then does a quick survey of my body. “When he’s using me.. I can feel... I-I know he loves you... look, I know he wants more... but you fucking better- I’m gonna stay your fucking favorite right? You can use me too, or whatever. I can be your bitch. I can be whatever you want me to me... Just, keep me around, ok? And keep him inside me” I muse at how the old me would have killed to hear similar words from Austin, years ago.
He pauses for a moment, looking away in disgust at his own actions before yielding and scratching his head as he forces out his next words:
“look man... just... the thing that’s missing from me... well this is gonna be weird ask bro, but...can you cum in my mouth?”
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—————
I’m a little bit shit with the titles but thats neither here nor there. Used some other similar stories I’ve read in the past for inspiration. Hope y’all like it. Next one’s probably gonna be a continuation on that Chrysalis one. What kind of possession stories are your favorite? 
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Settling In: Elder Sister
Inspired by @i-cant-sing and their Yandere Todoroki Family series
There isn't a clock in your room. There is a bathroom but no clock. You don’t have a phone, but there is a laptop still on the desk. You could look at the time on there, but your curiosity isn’t worth getting out of this bed. The bed itself is absolutely massive, dwarfing you on all sides. You can stretch out and be nowhere near any of the edges. It’s the most comfortable bed you’ve ever slept upon. Knowing what time it is isn’t as important as the comfort this bed provides.
It’s early morning and the sun is just starting to rise. You know that much. Looking out of the window, you see the golden yellow sun illuminating the sky, pushing out the dark, depressing night sky.
It’s a new day, one filled with potential and hope. You aren’t immediately put off by living here. Sure, nothing will replace your parents, but Rei and Enji aren’t bad. They seem to be strict, but so was your last couple of homes. This is an upgrade, truly.
You can hear your door unlock. You turn to it, seeing Rei in the entrance. For a brief moment, you see a golden object much like the sun you were just staring at. Though, you blame it on a trick of the light. The door wasn’t locked; you didn’t lock the door last night.
“Ah, [Y/N].” A shocked expression quickly melts into the warm smile she gave you all of yesterday, “You’re up already. Don’t tell me you’ve been up all night!”
“Oh no.” You move to sit on the side of the bed. Though you had the ability to, you didn’t put the canopy part of your princess bed down. It’s a little babyish for your taste, though you’d never admit it, “I haven’t been up long. The sunrise was really pretty this morning.”
“I know; I saw.” Rei grabs your hands, helping you up and towards your closet, “Maybe I’ll wake you up earlier and we can watch it together.”
“Alright.” It’s your new favorite response. It’s perfect for situations you agree with, but have no other words to say on the matter.
Rei lets go of your hands and you let them fall to the sides of your pale pink nightgown. You didn’t really like this when Rei bought it, but you never said anything. You’ll try to stay in their good graces as long as possible.
“Now, let’s pick you out something to wear today while we go over house rules.”
She does exactly what she says she’s going to do. You appreciate her honesty, even if the clothes aren’t your style and the rule list is something you’ll probably not remember.  She’s honest, unlike prior caretakers. 
You’re handed a white sweater with bubblegum pink hearts on the elbows. They’re about as big as your fist, with the heart’s point pointing towards your wrists. With how it’s made, you can’t see the hearts. They’re for other people to look at. That’s the epitome of your new wardrobe. You don’t mind it too much.
The matching skirt is pink and pleated, not unlike the cheer skirts the cheerleaders at your old school wore. The white stockings ruin the cheerleader image, but they keep you warm. Every room Rei steps into turns cold. Every room Enji steps into becomes hot. You don’t imagine that Enji is here much, being the number one hero. But Rei is here, possibly all of the time. You’ll need to keep warm around her. Shoes are forgone. You’re probably not leaving the house today.
She leads you towards the vanity. The warm lights are flipped on and you look at yourself in the mirror. Wordlessly, she does your hair. You look yourself in the mirror. This is similar to how your peers used to play with dolls. She does your hair and dresses you up without allowing your input. At least she doesn’t make you stay silent. You’ve already had a home like that.
“Umm… Rei?” You ask tentatively, “What are we going to be doing today?”
“My other daughter is coming around.” Rei replies, smiling at you through the mirror, “She comes around, once a week or so, to check in on me.”
You smile back at her, looking away from yourself and at her reflection, “Alright.” 
Rei helps you up out of the vanity’s stool. She leads you to another room. This one is wall to wall windows, near the center of the complex. Waiting there is a conservatively dressed adult, with mid-length, almost completely white hair. Red splotches break through the strands of snowfall colored hair. You’d think it would be a bad dye job, but the family pictures on the wall show a younger her, with the same red splotched, white hair. You like her hair. It’s interesting.
“Mom.” The adult woman pulls Rei in for a hug. When they untangle, she waves at you, “Y/N, right? Call me Fuyumi. Nice to meet you.”
She’s inherited her mother’s smile and cool air radiates from her. Fuyumi looks very much like her mother, except for the bright blue eyes Enji drilled into your soul yesterday. They’re kinder, softer. She doesn’t make you instantly uneasy, like he does.
“Uhh, hi.” You wave back, “Nice to meet you too.”
Rei grabs your arm. Her icy fingers drag you to another soft seat—this time, being this room’s light grey, almost white couch. You wouldn’t want to stain or ruin this. It’s way too nice. Fuyumi sits in an adjacent chair. It looks almost identical to the couch and contrasts with her dark jeans. Rei wears dresses
“I’ll start breakfast.” Rei comments, “Will you be staying for breakfast, Fuyumi?”
“Do you need help?” Fuyumi stands back up almost immediately, “I thought you all would’ve already had breakfast. We could help! You don’t have to do it by yourself.”
Rei laughs lightly, “Oh Fuyumi, you worry too much. As long as you two stay out of the kitchen, I’ll be fine. And besides, you two should get to know each other. I’m sure you’ll love Y/N. It’s impossible not to.”
“Alright…” Fuyumi responds, “If you say so.”
Wordlessly, Rei leaves and Fuyumi sits back down. The sun’s well in the sky now. You can see it through any of the countless windows. This would look cooler, when the weather wasn’t so nice. Though, the sunlight warms the room slightly.
“So... Y/N. How was your first night?” Fuyumi turns to you, smiling once again. Her worried expression with Rei has all but melted away. You don’t know why she’d be so worried about the adult, she seems extremely capable. Maybe it’s age? Or it’s because of something you don’t know about, yet? Anyways, it’s not your place to add.
“Alright.” You decide on answering the question and not asking your own, “I got to watch the sunrise.”
“I did too, back at my place.” Fuyumi comments, “though, it’s not as nice in the city, as it is out here.”
The Todoroki residence is on a massive plot of land. Nothing else is here for miles. If you squint, you could see bits and pieces of Mustafu off in the distance. But nothing is in walking distance, certainly. They almost have you in the middle of nowhere. It’s scenic, that's for sure.
“I like your outfit. It looks adorable.” You fight to scrunch up your nose at the compliment. Adorable. Images of toddlers fill your head. That’s not what you wanted. Though, it’s out of your control anyways, as Rei picked out your outfit this morning.
“Thanks.” Y/N chooses to reply with acceptance and push the conversation forward, “I like your outfit too.”
“You’re too kind.” Fuyumi asks, “So… tell me about you? What do you do for fun.”
You answer her question, only mentioning things that you’ve been able to do this past year. You don’t talk about things you did with your parents. Those are firmly in the past now. They’re dead and the things you did alongside them are too.
Fuyumi never pushes an issue too long and she tries to keep the conversation interesting. You appreciate it. There is never a moment you feel unsafe or insecure. Other homes haven’t been this pleasant. Sure, Enji unnerves you and being dressed like a doll is weird, but everything else is alright. You’re able to overlook it—especially if the rest of your new siblings are like Fuyumi.
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voiceswithoutlips · 3 years
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Calico - Chapter Two
— pairing: Hybrid ot7 x Human Reader (Female) — genre: hybrid AU , fluff, angst, slow burn (like real slow), eventual smut — word count: 2K — Rating: M — warnings: trauma, mention of past abuse.
Click for Tag List
— chapter summary:
Y/N runs a animal shelter, Calico was built on a simple principle, to help those who were in need. What will Y/N do when her sanctuary is threatened by an unexpected hybrid?
— A/N: This is going to be a series, I’m just getting back to writing, so I’d really appreciate your input and feedback <3
Ch. 1  Ch. 3  Ch. 3.5 Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6
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I stumbled out of bed with a groan, it was almost noon and my hangover was killing me. Last night I was too stressed so I drowned my worries in a bottle of whisky. Why was adulting so annoying, ugh. The house was quiet, Jason had probably already gone to the shelter. I made my way to the kitchen, my zombie brain screaming for coffee. I like my coffee black and bitter, just like my soul. Kidding, I don’t have a soul. 
My phone rang somewhere in the living room. The place looked like a tornado had torn through it. The floor was covered with papers and cushions and clothes and other unidentifiable mess. What the fuck happened last night? By the time I found my phone the ringing had stopped. 28 missed calls from Jason and 2% battery ...great.  
I made my way to the exam room, the most likely place for Jason to be. It was just a five minute walk from the house. I was in my pajamas, my hair sticking out and the coffee cup in my hand. It was Sunday, I was grumpy.
There was a half-naked man sitting on the exam table, no not a man, a hybrid. His white fluffy tail was droopy. Long white ears poked from his long black hair, he desperately needed a haircut. His ears were limp on his back. There was a hole in his left ear, it was properly done but too big for a piercing. My eyes widened with realization, I’d seen that before on cattle, his previous owners must’ve tagged him. 
The hybrid showed no reaction as I went to stand beside Jason, and directly in front of him. His upper body was muscular, he had a thick neck and washboard abs. He was gorgeous. He had a strong jawline, cute eyes and a small nose. The combination of cute and sexy was deadly. His hands were clasped together and he was hunched over, trying to make himself look small, not an easy feat to achieve.  
“Y/N, this is Jungkook,” Jason introduced the hybrid. The bunny stiffened, he didn’t raise his head to look at me. What do I do? I wasn’t good with people, I preferred animals to humans.  
“Hello, I’m Y/N,” I greeted. He was sitting so still that you would think he wasn’t even there. Was he even breathing? He was still looking down. 
I looked at Jason, I didn’t know what to do. “I found him near the hatch this morning so I brought him in for a checkup.” I nodded. 
“Are you hungry? I’m practically starving!” I asked, extending a tentative hand towards the bunny, palm up. He flinched.  I kept my hand where it was. I would stand here for hours if I had to. My stubbornness knew no bounds. Minutes passed slowly, Jason was leaning on the counter perfectly at ease, he was a good actor. 
Slowly Jungkook took my hand. “Let’s go have breakfast,” I whispered, a smile on my face as I slowly led him to the kitchen. Well kitchen was an overstatement, it was a small room with six refrigerators and two freezers, most of them contained medical supplies. A sad, overused coffee machine and a small stove for “Emergency Ramen”, it was our own special recipe. 
I opened the fridge with a “No Science Allowed” poster taped to its door. I pulled out a bunch of greens to make a salad, rabbits need their greens. We always stocked the fridge for humans and the animals. I wasn’t a particularly good cook, I could cook enough to not starve but that was the extent of my cooking skills. A quick chicken salad, eggs and toast and a bunch of pancakes and breakfast was served. 
Jungkook was still standing near the door where I had left him, eyes downcast, ears flopped. I was an idiot, a massive idiot, I assumed he would sit at the table on his own. Bad Y/N! 
“Jungkook, come sit with me,” I mentally hit myself, it sounded like a command, I was terrible at this. I was used to animals, you tell them what to do, you can’t ask a dog if he’d like to sit with you, but Jungkook was a person. I can be an animal therapist but humans? They were beyond me. I didn’t know how to get to him.  
He sat at the table. I pushed the food in front of him, expecting him to eat, another mistake. Hybrids are supposed to obey, they don't do things on their own. I was supposed to tell him what to do. I wanted to pound my head on the table. Stupid Y/N. 
“What would you like to eat?” I asked in the gentlest voice possible, at least I hoped it was gentle. 
 No response.  
“Go on this is all for you,” I tried to be encouraging. 
 Nothing.
 “Tell you what, if you finish your breakfast, I’ll give you a treat,” his ears twitched. He tentatively picked up a fork and started eating. His movements were small, he barely made any noise as he chewed but at least he was eating. 
I was still confuzzled, it is a word, a made up word, but then again all words are made up words. Confused and puzzled. I had no idea how to approach him, do I treat him like a human or a rabbit. The ‘treat’ card worked but will it work every time? He was taking small bites, I wondered if the food tasted bad. Maybe I forgot to add sugar to the pancakes? Did I forget to season the salad? I sighed internally. He needed a proper meal but sadly, Jason and I were terrible cooks. We lived on take-outs and ramen. Maybe it was time to learn how to cook.
I stood up, he froze. I had to get him used to people. I ignored his stiff posture as I walked to one of the freezers and pulled out a container that held my favorite ice cream. It was ‘ice cream for breakfast’ kind of day. I didn’t bother with bowls, two spoons and I was back in my seat. 
“You know this is my absolute favorite ice cream in the entire world. It's called Chocolate Brownie Fudge with Marshmallows. It's like a little piece of heaven in a plastic container,” I offered him a spoon. He looked at it as if it was going to bite him. “Go on, it's your treat!” I encouraged with a grin. It was meant to be a small smile but he was too cute and the ice cream made me happy. 
I dug into the ice cream as if my life depended on it. Jungkook watched me curiously, the spoon still in his hand. He hadn’t finished his breakfast but it was a start. For me, it was Sunday, the day where I threw caution to the wind and ate what I wanted. He hesitantly took a spoonful of ice cream, watching me as if I was going to pull the container away from him and tell him it was a joke. 
As soon as the spoon touched his tongue his eyes lit up like christmas. “Amazing isn’t it?” I asked, taking another bite. He nodded excitedly. Apparently he had a sweet tooth. I pushed the ice cream towards him and watched him devour the whole thing in minutes. God he was adorable!
I settled down on the couch in my office, I desperately needed a shower but that’d have to wait. Jason had taken Jungkook back to our house, he was going to stay in the guest room for the time being. It's not like I was going to put him in the hybrid shelter building, nobody deserved that and he couldn’t stay as a rabbit forever. 
I had a file in front of me, a file on Jungkook. All hybrids are installed with a microchip and registered in the hybrid database as soon as they are born ...or rather created in the labs. Hybrids couldn’t procreate, they were made in labs owned by big corporations. Jason had scanned Jungkooks microchip, the file contained everything about his life.
He was created in Corebear Tech’s lab and sold at the age of six to a wealthy family as a pet for their son. He was sent back to the company when he was twelve because he had grown too big for a rabbit hybrid. Corebear Tech then sold him to Apexi Pharmaceuticals and I guess that’s where Yonu found him.
I felt …I didn’t know what I felt. Maybe a sense of defeat. Jungkook was twenty-three, he was in that lab for eleven years. He was just one year younger than me. I was lost. I couldn’t even imagine what he must’ve gone through. There was no way I was going to let Apexi take him back. I called Song Hwa and gave her the file. After all we had evidence to collect and a case to build.
“Not this again!!” I ran through the front door as soon as I smelled smoke in our kitchen. Jason was standing in front of the stove fanning a pot with a newspaper. 
“I was cooking rice, I don’t know what happened,” he said opening the windows.
I took a peek, the rice was black, utterly totally burnt. “Jason …you’re supposed to add water to cook it…”
“Oh,” Jason loved to cook, the problem was he just couldn’t. I was 200% sure that he was cursed by some evil witch. The moment Jason tries to cook, all hell breaks loose.  
“You’re on clean-up duty,” I grumbled. At least it wasn’t that bad, the cake incident was still fresh in my mind. Once upon a time, when we still lived in our dorm, Jason decided to bake a cake …in a pressure cooker. Needless to say, it was a disaster. The cooker blew up, damaging half the kitchen. Thankfully no one was injured.
I softly knocked on the guestroom door. Jungkook had spent the whole day in his room, not that I blamed him. New place, new people, it was bound to be scary.
“Hey Jungkook, you want to come out for dinner?” I asked. I could deliver him ramen to his room if he wanted but I hoped he’d come out and eat with us. Yes, we were having ramen, Jason and I still lived as we had lived in our dorm, the only difference was our house was nicer and we had a garden.
Jungkook opened the door, he hadn’t locked it. He scrunched his nose as soon as he stepped out. The house was full of burnt smell from Jason’s cooking adventure. The smell must be stronger for him.
“Yeah, Jason tried to cook rice. Pro tip, never eat the food that Jason makes, he’s a terrible cook. Do you want to come eat with us?” I asked. I got a small nod in return.
“Let’s gooooo!! Do you like ramen? We have a really good recipe, well its nothing special, we just throw in some bacon and rice cakes and of course a fuckton of cheese,” I rambled as he followed me to the dining table. “You can never go wrong with cheese, unless you’re Jason,” Jason made protesting noises, I rolled my eyes at him.
Dinner was a bit awkward. Jason and I kept trying to make Jungkook talk but it didn’t work. The poor bunny hadn’t spoken a single word since he’d arrived at Calico. The only thing we got out of him were small nods and silence. I wondered if we should consult a therapist. He was human after all and he needed help.
I heard a sharp gasp from my left. Jungkook’s eyes were huge, he was frozen in his chair. He had accidently knocked the salt shaker off the table.
“I’m so..sorry. Please don’t punish me. I’ll do anything,” his voice was so small, it made my heart ache.
“Oh honey no!” I said as I held his hands. “It was an accident. You remember what I told you? This is a safe space, you’ll never be punished here. I won’t let anyone hurt you, okay?” I was mentally cursing myself for holding his hands on impulse. What if he didn’t like people invading his personal space? My worries were put to rest as he squeezed my hands.
“Okay,” he said in the smallest voice.
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pa-panda-heroes · 3 years
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Hello!💖 I love your writing!💖 Idk if your BNHA requests are open, but if they are, I was wondering if I could request something?
I was wondering if you could do Hawks,Dabi and Tomura (separately) hcs with a fem reader who's a artist?💖 She likes drawing him a lot, and she sometimes asks him to pose for her.
Only if you want to though!💖
Technically they aren’t, but I’m a little lot starved for inspiration and content rn so :’>
Hawks, Dabi, and Tomura with an artist s/o!
Hawks:
Okay. Listen. Hawks is model material and he’s very well aware of it. If the constant proposal of modeling jobs wasn’t a clue enough, it wouldn’t matter. He’s quite confident in his appearance and he’s always ready to show off, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t indifferent to modeling, because he is.
But modeling for you as your muse, a reference, light study, or literally anything? He’s absolutely elated!! Before you can even prepare your medium, lighting, etc., he’s already barraging you with questions.
“Should I move my arm this way?” / “How do you want my wings positioned?” / “Ooh, what do I wear?” / “How’s my hair?!” / “Wait, do I face this way, or that way?” Etc. Hawks bby give her a minute!
Low key sometimes pouts when he models for you because he can’t watch from over your shoulder like he enjoys so much. He just loves watching the graceful way your wrist moves when you draw a curved line, how quickly your hand moves when you do light shading, and just the overall process.
That doesn’t stop him from peeking while he’s in front of you, though. “Keigo, I need you to hold still. Please look sideways at the wall and hold your focus there.” - cue a childish whine from him, “but then I can’t see youuuu!”
You’re probably going to need a lot of patience in that regard and others. It’s hard for him to sit still for so long, for example. As a hero he is and has been trained to be ready to jump and run and always stay busy, and with that training came a constant need for stimulation and something to do.
Massive bragger. It’s not because he’s a total show off (even though he actually is lol), he’s just so proud. Being an artist takes a lot of talent, skill, time, and effort. Keigo may not be even close to an artist himself, but he respects art and, obviously, you to the moon and back.
Expect him to frame everything he gets his grubby little hands on! It doesn’t matter if it’s a piece you’ve drawn of him or not. He’s framing it and hanging it! Most of the time he does it in secret to surprise you, but often he likes to have your (artistic!) input as to where it should go.
Dabi:
Definitely takes you weeks (at least) to convince him to be your subject. Aside from his scars being a sore spot anyway, being your subject would entail, in his eyes, you staring at him way too close for his very easily-broken comfort.
Dabi is not one to like being stared at under any circumstances, really, so he’s hesitant to say the least. Once you finally convince him, he’s quiet. Almost awkward. Maybe pouty. Definitely tense. He doesn’t know what to do with himself.
But once he sees the end product, how proud you are of it, and how much time and effort you put into it, he softens a little. “Aw, look at you, doll, makin’ me all handsome.” ...emphasis on “a little.” Dabi isn’t great with compliments to say the least, so any he gives out aren’t direct compliments!
May not as vigorously and outwardly appreciate your craft like Hawks, but that doesn’t mean the respect and appreciation isn’t there! It’s just... silent and hidden a wee bit. Dabi is a very silent admirer when it comes to this.
Although, if you decide to hang a piece on the wall, he’s right next to you trying to help you decide where to put it. If you ask him why the interest, he’ll scratch his neck and mutter something about your being too indecisive and avert your attention. Because he’s an ass like that, oops.
Secretly loves to watch you while you’re in your element - but only if you’re unaware. Be it watching over your shoulder as you plan out a painting, or peering at you from the corner of his eye next you while you do a simple sketch, he enjoys (much more than he’d admit) watching your face contort in focus and determination like it does. It’s cute, to him. Besides, he can tease you later for it!
Probably won’t outwardly brag about your skill, but he’s certainly not going to hide it either. And if it somehow relates to your quirk? Well, he still may not brag about it, but he definitely won’t let anyone forget about it, either!
Eventually warms up to being your subject much better and is, in all honesty, a natural. It’s like he forgets he’s posing and is instead in the act. It’s also funny to see his facial expressions contort when you take your sweet time, but don’t tell Dabi that!
Tomura:
Tomura’s a bit standoffish about being drawn - not necessarily by you, just in general. I can see his skin and scars being a factor behind that, aside from Tomura just not liking having pictures of himself (drawn or photographed).
The biggest reason, though, is the “intimacy,” for the lack of a better word. The silence, your focused and practiced gaze, the beating in his chest from the feeling of being stripped bare for scrutinization (despite being clothed), it all has him... feeling things, intimacy. It’s something he’s not used to.
Won’t frame anything you’ve drawn of him, but has no problem (and is secretly a wee bit happy) framing something else you’ve done if you want to do that. Tomura is actually fairly supportive of your craft!
If you ever need something to practice, he’s more than willing to toss a couple video game characters your way. Need practice with armour? He’s got just the character! Maybe you’re messing around with non-humanoid figures? He knows of plenty!
Likes to watch you in action, but it’s hard for him to keep interest. It’s because the “draw, erase probably, draw, erase” ordeal is monotonous for him. It’s not as engaging as something he’d be interested in - of course, don’t take that personally. How does the saying go? “Different strokes for different folks?”
Probably won’t brag, per se, but he will talk about your talents with ease, usually, and subtly, bringing up the subject when something else is topic of conversation.
And because it’s something he thinks you’d like, he may or may not “volunteer” you to draw something for someome. It’s more like, for example, someone is complaining about getting a sketch out so they can get a new villain setup but don’t have the skills. “Hey, y/n can do that. She’s pretty good at that sort of thing.” - like this.
Just don’t mistake his indifference to being drawn as something personal or offensive and you’re good to go! It’ll be hard for him to warm up to it, but he will eventually feel more comfortable as your muse over a (long) period of time.
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blockgamepirate · 3 years
Note
Hello! Not sure if you’ve had any asks about this but you’re really good at explaining anarchist theory and such. I was wondering what your response is for Jack’s criticism to Niki in his stream? (He visited about 20 min in) Basically it boiled down to “if there is no government or law here, what’s to stop someone from just taking everything?” This is a criticism a lot of people seem to share, that without structure the only people with power are the ones with pvp skill. What’s the solution in that case?
Thanks for the ask! (and thanks for the compliments haha) Okay, first off I wanna link an earlier post I made kind of relating to this subject because otherwise I’d have to get a bit repetitive. But I’m gonna elaborate on this a bit here:
Oh yeah also disclaimer: I’m obviously not an authority (hah!) on anarchism, I’m just one random anarchist. I haven’t even read that much theory tbh, I get bored really easily. Point is, other anarchists might disagree what I have to say, these are just my thoughts and ideas.
1: So to me it kinda seems like Jack is confusing “no rulers“ with “no rules“. He’s thinking of 2b2t when he could be thinking of Hermitcraft (well, Hermitcraft is kinda mixed, sometimes they have a police and a penal system, sometimes they have a mayor, idk, but like... thinking of season 6 for example, which I still keep saying was effectively a mutualist society). Yes, anarchy CAN be “no rules“, but it doesn’t HAVE to be, and as a societal system it usually isn’t. The important part is that if there are rules they must be decided by the consensus of the community. That is, everybody has to agree to them mutually.
2: “No police“ doesn’t mean “no community self-defence allowed“. The difference is that the role doesn’t come with authority; the idea is to intervene to stop an immediate threat, that’s all. The conflict resolution is handled between the people involved and possibly some mediators and with input from the community as a whole if it’s a bigger issue. Honestly, the details aren’t even that important, the point is just that you don’t have a specific group enforcing rules on others
Living alone in her city Niki is definitely vulnerable, there’s no denying that. The best protection would be to have other people there to outnumber possible troublemakers. (Okay I know some people on the server can fight even massively outnumbered, but I mean even someone like Techno tends to think twice before fighting more than three people unless he’s prepared.) If the other people aren’t available, they can go visit the offender afterwards to make it clear that such behaviour is not appreciated and amends must be made.
(I realise that while Niki can’t tell Jack, she actually has some VERY powerful allies now. But yeah, having more people there in general would help to prevent problems in the first place.)
3: This is less about Dream SMP (which actually is probably doomed to be kind of a chaotic mess due to the fact that conflict creates content) and more about the general trope because I can’t help responding to it every time:
The media in general tends to overestimate how prone to violence and destruction people would be without leadership. The example I like to give is natural disasters: in a major natural disaster, law and order tends to break down, often it takes a while for authorities to show up, there’s limited resources, there are immediate threats everywhere.... and usually what happens is that people help each other. Including complete strangers. Usually the first and most important rescue efforts are organised by the people who are right there, being hit by the disaster. The official rescue personnel would otherwise be too late for a LOT of people.
But people’s concept of what a world without laws and authority would look like is more like what happens as a reaction to authoritarian rule. For example the drug wars in Central America are directly linked to the War on Drugs in the USA. Extreme anti-drug policing enables organised crime. The Syrian Civil War was a response to Assad, made even worse by US intervention in Iraq which had already created ISIS which in turn was able to expand to Syria. And we’d be here all day if I tried to list all the wars and breakdowns of society caused by colonialism and its legacy.
4: Governments on the server really don’t have a great track record of stopping the kind of problems Jack brought up from happening. And in fact a lot of the time it’s the governments that do the stealing and griefing themselves. This tends to happen in real life too. Police brutality is a huge problem, because as it turns out, sometimes the asshole who comes and steals your stuff and kills your chicken decides to go into law enforcement first. And then you definitely can’t do anything about it, because who are you gonna call then? The police? (Sidenote: who do you call if the president is stealing your shit and calling it “taxes” lmao (Yes I’m talking about Tubbo in case it wasn’t clear))
Governments also start wars for resources, for territory, for straight up just reinforcing their own power. They usually allow some level of dissent, just to seem reasonable, but if the dissent gets loud and strong enough, they’re very quick to start persecuting activists, even if they have to come up with lies and excuses to do so.
Governments also prop up capitalism, which itself is exploitative and harmful in a systemic way. It might not reward physical power, but it rewards financial power. (I won’t go into it here because it’s a whole other tangent but capitalism pretty much requires some form of government and law enforcement to function, which is why “anarcho-capitalists” aren’t valid. Mutualists are though, mutualists are alright.)
And speaking of systemic power, it creates situations where even otherwise good people end up doing horrible things, because they’re just going along with the existing system. For example, denying disability benefits because someone doesn’t quite fit the requirements, deporting asylum seekers because they weren’t able to prove their lives were in danger, foreclosing on someone’s home because they weren’t able to make their payments...
Or more relevant to the Dream SMP: locking up a visitor in a max security cell for over a week, WITH the prisoner, because it’s what the prison protocol demands (Sam). (Not to even mention everyone who’s been drafted to carry out state violence against their will, like Tubbo, Ranboo and Techno at least, probably more.)
... Okay I’m kinda veering off topic here. But you get the idea. Governments and authority figures regularly fail to protect their people, in fact they’re often the CAUSE of the harm in the first place.
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Text
Miles of Memories- 1
We’ve Got Tonight- Bob Seger
Miles of Memories Masterlist CarryOnCap’s Masterlist
Dean x reader Best Friends to Lovers AU
Summary: Feeling anxious about heading off to college, you make the most of your last night in town with the help of your best friend, Dean.
Warnings: fluffy, adorable Dean and fun banter. Slight angst (goodbyes are hard). Minor mentions of childhood trauma
WC: 2,900
A/N: This part is like a “prelude” to give you a glimpse of Y/N and Dean’s relationship (5 years before the main storyline). I hope you stay tuned for the slowest of Dean x fem!reader slowburns. I’m so excited to share this story, so please let me know what you think! MASSIVE thanks to my spectacular and badass beta crew—@christopher-evxns @deanwinchesterswitch @ezilyamuzed & @wonder-cole—for all of their help and input!! I edited even after their feedback, so all mistakes are my own.  Credit to Bob Seger for the song :) 
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Zipping your suitcase closed with a heavy sigh, you worked through your mental checklist for the hundredth time to make sure you hadn’t forgotten to pack anything.
“Jeez, you act like it’s the last time you’ll ever see this place or something.” With a smile and a roll of your eyes, you turned to see Dean leaning casually against your doorframe. “Y’know, I figured I’d talk to Bobby about renting this space out anyway. Save you the stress of missing it while you’re gone because it’ll look completely different the next time you come back.”
“I’m not too worried. I think you’re the last person Bobby would trust with anything—let alone a space in his house.”
Dean grinned, pushing off the doorframe to mosey into your room. “See, normally I’d agree with you. But it just so happens that he gave me my very own key to the garage, so I think he’s coming around. This ready?” He pointed at the suitcase on your bed, and you nodded. 
“Riiight. I’m supposed to believe that Bobby would actually give you a key to come and go at the shop anytime you want.”
Dean shrugged, spinning on his heel with your bag in hand. “Guess he’s looking for a new favorite since you’re skipping town to go be successful out in the real world.”
You snorted and shook your head, silently following him to the door. He stepped out of the way, placing his free hand on the doorknob as you scanned the bedroom one last time. Gnawing your bottom lip, you sucked in a deep breath and tried to alleviate some of the tightness in your chest.
This room had been a safe haven for most of your life, and it was hard to remember the days before you called it “home.” Your mother had passed away when you were a toddler, and your father was a drunk, in and out of jail and your life until one day he didn’t come back. Bobby had often been the one who took care of you when your father needed to pass you off onto someone else. 
You didn’t remember much about the “Travelin’ Man” (as Bobby not-so-lovingly referred to him on the rare occasions he was mentioned), but you could easily recall the night Bobby told you this would be your room for good. The relief and excitement you’d felt upon learning you’d have a space of your own were still vivid. Knowing you had a place you could always return to provided a sense of stability and consistency you’d never known.
Bobby may not have been your father by blood, but he was your dad in every sense of the word. Sure, he was a little rough around the edges and tended to be a hermit, but he also had a heart of gold, and not once had he ever made you question whether he cared about you.
A few weeks after settling into your new home, you had met Jessica and Sam during recess at your new elementary school. Although they were a grade younger, you’d instantly hit it off with them. Jess and Sam had always been there for you over the years, too, willing to lend an ear or make time for movie nights and spontaneous trips to the diner. Eventually, Sam had introduced you to Dean, and the two of you had been inseparable ever since. Each and every memory you had growing up involved at least one (if not all three) of them. But while it was difficult saying goodbye to everyone in general...you still hadn’t been able to grasp the idea of saying goodbye to Dean.
Dean was the one who had been by your side through everything. From heartfelt life chats and your deepest moments of self-doubt to car ride sing-alongs and your loudest belly laughs. He was always there to comfort you, remind you not to take things so seriously, and even drag you into trouble once in a while. 
The thought of leaving him and your safe, familiar home brought yet another wave of apprehension and doubt. What if you were making a huge mistake?
“Y/N...” Dean’s gentle voice coaxed you back to reality. “We’ve still got a lot to pack into our night, so don’t go checking out on me yet.”
Without looking back, you slipped past Dean and heard him shut the door as you made your way downstairs. 
“You know, this wouldn’t be so hard if you would’ve just applied like I told you to. Then we could both be going off to college together, and you’d find out what an honor it would be to have me as a roomie.”
“Okay, well, let me remind you that you’re the one who decided to go ‘see what’s out there’ and get a fancy college degree under her belt. And, even if we did survive being roommates without making the other want to pull their hair out, there’s no way in hell that town would be able to handle both of us.”
“That’s fair.”
“Besides, I won’t have much of a chance to miss you. You’ll probably flunk out and be back here by the end of the semester anyway.”
“Also fair,” you laughed. “Taking a year off to work at The Roadhouse and pretend to get my life together seemed like a good idea at the time, but I’m a little worried about getting into the groove of studying and all that crap again.”
“You know, if you need help, all you gotta do is pick up the phone. I mean, Sammy’s a real bookworm, and he’s only a phone call away.” Dean winked as he held the front door open and motioned for you to lead the way. 
Sticking your tongue in your cheek, you fought to hide your amusement at the way he threw his brother under the bus. Before you made it through the door, you whirled around toward the stairs again. “Dang it. I forgot my bathroom bag. Do you mind tossing that one in the car? I’ll be right back!”
“Another bag? Where are you gonna put all this crap?” he muttered.
After retrieving the pouch from the bathroom upstairs and making sure you hadn’t left any necessary items in the drawers and cabinets, you hurried outside to find Dean patiently waiting beside your car. You tossed the small bag and he caught it with ease, pitching it in the backseat before closing the door.
“And done. Any last-minute stops to make along the way?” he asked.
“Nope. I caught Ellen, Jo, and Jody at the end of my shift yesterday, and Charlie was over for a bit this morning. And, you know, Sam and Jess ditched us for California last weekend. That means you and Bobby are the only two left to put up with me until I leave in the morning.”
When your voice cracked unexpectedly, you cleared your throat and surveyed the scrapyard until the faint prick in the corners of your eyes faded. As your departure drew near and you considered everything you were leaving behind, venturing out into the world was quickly beginning to feel more daunting than exciting. 
“Hey…” Dean gripped the tops of your arms, stirring you from your thoughts. “We’ve got tonight. Who needs tomorrow? We’ve got tonight...babe. Why don’t you staaaaaaaayy—”
You had thought he was going to say something sweet and comforting, but you playfully shoved him in the chest when you realized he was speaking in Bob Seger lyrics. He stumbled back a step, laughing as he walked around the front of the impala and climbed inside.
***
There was an old park on the outskirts of town where Bobby and John would occasionally drop you both off when they had errands to run. As the years passed, you began riding your bikes the few miles across town, taking turns balancing Sam on your handlebars until Dean was old enough to drive. Eventually, Sam stopped tagging along, but somewhere along the way the park became a place you and Dean cherished. 
A large pond stretched across most of the area, and there was a stately willow tree near the water’s edge that served as your designated “spot.” It was a hideaway often overlooked by others, but it was the perfect escape when the two of you needed a place that was all your own. 
“Alright.” Dean plopped down beside you on the blanket. “You’ve got your grub, an amazing view, and the best company you could ever ask for. What else could you possibly want?”
“You’re right. Baby’s good company and all, but she’s not much of a conversationalist.”
Dean grimaced. “Just for that, I might eat your food.”
“Depending on what it is, I might let you.”
He smirked and unrolled the brown paper sack in his hand. “PB&J’s, just like Mom used to make! I asked if she could whip up a few before she flew out to make sure Sam got all settled at Stanford. She said to tell you she’s sorry she couldn’t catch you and to wish you good luck. This seemed like a, uh, better idea at the time...now that it’s been a couple of days, these might taste like shit.”
You couldn’t help but laugh as you took the sandwich Dean offered. “We’ve probably eaten worse, but I appreciate the sentimental twist. Seeing as how you’re in your 20’s and you had your mom make us sandwiches.”
“Hey, I was going for authenticity! Trying to help you feel like a kid again before you start adulting or whatever and—you know what? Just shut up and eat your food.”
The two of you unwrapped your sandwiches and continued bantering back and forth between bites. Even though the bread was soggy from marinating in jelly for a few days, and it certainly wasn’t the best thing you’d ever eaten, it brought back a flood of nostalgia. 
When a comfortable silence fell over the two of you, your thoughts began to drift to dozens of adventures you and Dean had had here. You gazed out over the water, watching the willow branches graze the surface as they gently swayed in the breeze. You tried to commit every detail to memory as you soaked in the peaceful atmosphere, not knowing how long it would be until you returned.
After a while, Dean chuckled under his breath, and you looked at him curiously.
“You remember that day we were pretending to be pirates, and Dad ended up coming to pick us up early?”
“Of course.”
“Man, he was so pissed when he saw us standing on top of that picnic table we managed to drag out and ‘sail’ into the middle of the pond. Sure made an awesome ship, though.”
You smiled at the memory, though it was anything but funny at the time. “I think he was a little more pissed at the fact that we left Sam playing alone in the gazebo. And obviously what made the ‘ship’ great was the pirate flag I made.”
“Uh-huh,” Dean snorted. “You mean the crappy skull you drew on our lunch bag and stuck on the end of a stick? Pretty sure we were having a blast with the ship because it was my brilliant idea in the first place.”
“I was like 8, and it was still better than anything you could’ve drawn.” You crumpled up your trash and threw it at him. “And I was having fun--right up until you pushed me off anyway. I nearly choked to death on all that nasty water I sucked in.”
“Okay, well, you shouldn’t have been trying to be Captain when I’m the oldest, and it was clearly my title to begin with. There was no plank to walk, but obviously, you had to go overboard.” 
He grinned, keeping his gaze fixed on the water. As you studied his face and noticed the faraway look in his eye, his smile faded. You figured his thoughts had drifted back to his dad, who had passed away a couple of years later. 
“I felt so damn bad, though. I really was afraid you were gonna drown. And Bobby was ready to kill me when he found out.”
“Lucky for you, you can’t get rid of me that easily.”
The two of you joked and reminisced for several more hours, eventually watching the sun set over the water until it sank below the horizon. When it was time to head back to Bobby’s, Dean took the long way home so you could crank the radio and sing along with your hand hanging lazily out the open window. Back at the house, you sat on the kitchen counter and talked with both men until Bobby finally bid you goodnight--but you still weren’t ready to call it a night, knowing morning would come soon and it would be time for you to leave. 
After convincing Dean to stay a little longer, you grabbed a couple of old blankets and spread them in the bed of one of the pickup trucks near the house. With your head on his chest and your body tucked comfortably against his side, you chatted beneath the stars until you drifted off to sleep.
***
“Got everything all packed up?” Bobby asked.
“I think so,” you answered.
“Better double-check because I’m not driving a few hours just to bring you a lost shoe or something.” 
“Is that a challenge?” you teased, seeing right through his gruff quip. “Because I bet I could talk you into it. We both know you’re not gonna know what to do without me.”
He frowned a little before smiling fondly, and you could’ve sworn there was a misty glaze in his eyes.
“Yeah. I s’pose you’re right.”
“Oh, don’t get all sentimental on me now. You could probably use a little break. Besides, I’ll be back so often you’ll just get sick of me all over again.”
“C’mere, kid.” 
Bobby reached out and pulled you into a hug. Much too soon, he let go and stepped aside so you could say goodbye to Dean. His soft green eyes had been fixed on you, but he glanced away and clenched his jaw when you took a step toward him. 
“So, uh...don’t forget about us when you make it big out there in the real world—catch a break as an artist or an author or some music critic.”
“Yeah, okay,” you scoffed. “I haven’t even picked out a major yet, but I think I have an advisor who can help me figure out a good fit...eventually. Maybe I’ll be a doctor—or follow in Sam’s footsteps and be a lawyer!”
“There you go. Why not just do it all while you’re at it? Jack of all trades, master of none. Whatever you end up doing, you better come back to visit soon.”
“You got it. Try not to turn into a grumpy old man while I’m gone.”
He shook his head, cracking a smile as he met your eyes. “Only a couple years older than you, brat. Anyway, I didn’t get a whole lot of sleep last night, so I made you a playlist for the drive. Figured I might as well do something useful while I was awake. I sent it to you while you were getting ready.”
Pulling out your phone, you found a message already waiting with a link to the playlist. 
“This is awesome, Dean, thank you. But if it ends up being six hours of nothing but Zeppelin, I’m gonna be pissed.”
He tossed his head back and laughed, making the knot in your throat grow once again at the thought of not seeing him almost every day. You couldn’t help but wonder if he’d miss you as much as you were going to miss him.
“Don’t worry; I think it ended up being a decent mix. Not too many classics and not too much of the more modern crap. There was, uh... a certain thought process behind each song, let’s just say that.”
“We all know some of that modern crap is a guilty pleasure of yours. I mean, Taylor Swift?”
“Yeah…” His gaze lingered until his grin faded to a sad smile. “Yeah, you’re right.”
Pressing your lips into a thin line, you leaned forward and threw an arm around each man. Squeezing your eyes closed, you hugged them tight.
“All joking aside...you got nothing to worry about. You’re gonna kick this college thing in the ass,” Dean murmured.
“Thank you.”
Clearing your throat, you slipped out of their embrace and quickly made your way to the car. 
“Drive safe--and call when you get there!” Bobby hollered.
Stealing one last glimpse over your shoulder, you waved and slid behind the wheel. You hit shuffle on the playlist, letting the music fill the vehicle while you fasten your seatbelt.
I know it’s late
I know you’re weary
I know your plans don’t include me...
You shook your head and smiled, blinking back tears at the irony of the song—the lyrics perfectly encapsulating your night with Dean.
Look at the stars so far away
We’ve got tonight
Who needs tomorrow?
We’ve got tonight, babe
Why don’t you stay?
As you started the car and drove away, seeing him and Bobby grow smaller in the rearview mirror, you finally began to cry.
Part 2
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@bobbie3939  @jerkbitchidjitassbutt  @mlovesstories  @onethirstyunicorn  @peridottea91  @valsworldofcreativity
Also tagging those of you who seemed interested when I posted the masterlist. I don’t want to pester you, so I probably won’t tag you in future parts unless you let me know that you’d like to be tagged!
@badlittlehabit99  @cajunquandary  @devvoon  @flamencodiva  @hybrid-in-the-making  @impalackless  @janicho88  @themoonblooms
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rayveewrites · 3 years
Text
Ray Hijacks the Team ZIT Ghostbuster AU Again
So @shadeswift99 made a few posts a while ago about a Team ZIT(S) ghostbuster AU, And then I may or may not have hijacked the post to add in ideas for most of the other hermits because why not.
Now, back then I was spitballing ideas and making them up on the spot, which is admittedly my usual writing process, but hey.
That said, I've had more time to think about it, and then last night I blacked out for a few hours and came to with a Google Doc filled with short bios for all of the hermits and a handful of hermit-adjacents. Now, this rapidly turned into an urban fantasy AU in my hands, but hey. It's fun.
This is in alphabetical order, with alternate personas (EX, Helsknight, Beetlejhost) beneath their original counterparts when applicable:
Bdubs
Lives in an old mansion in the woods alongside Doc for reasons known only to them. Bdubs works as an interior designer, with a side gig as a freelance hairdresser. His eyes are unnaturally large, similar to Keralis’, and he is at least partially a plant. Completely feral and frequently gets in trouble for having knives on him at all times. He and Cleo have a thing called Knife Club which makes everyone else nervous. Nobody messes with Knife Club. It’s not worth it. Sunbathes frequently.
Beef
Is a perfectly normal human being. He works as a butcher with a side gig as a graphic designer specializing in album covers and spends his free time playing pokemon and dragging Etho along to social events. He was the first person to spot the cryptid, and the first person who Etho approached of his own accord.
Biffa
Is a ghost possessing a robotic shell. Biffa is from the future. While initially his main goal was to get back home to his own time, Biffa has since made friends and settled down into a new life running a cafe specializing in a wide range of teas. He’s quite content with this, and has actually found himself far happier than he was in his own time. While his nature means he can see, hear and touch ghosts, his body was built specifically for a disembodied soul to be in the driver’s seat, and he doesn’t want to risk another taking control. Also, he has more important things to do than have fistfights with ghosts.
Cleo
Is a ghost possessing her own dead corpse. Her nature allows her to see, hear and touch ghosts. Can and will fistfight spirits. She works as a teacher, so she’s usually busy, but occasionally in really nasty situations the Beetlejhost will drag her in to break a ghost’s legs. Does sculpture in her free time, and is actually really good. The only one who can wrangle Beetle to any real capacity, and she’s learned to keep him on a fairly short leash. Housemates with Joe, and Keralis also pops in pretty frequently. Has Knife Club with Bdubs. Has an enchanted flower crown that prevents her from decaying further; a gift from Beetle. Recently started learning magic in the form of necromancy and illusions. Has an ongoing ‘feud’ with Zloy, in which she temporarily traps his soul in random inanimate objects every now and then.
Cub
A bit of a ‘mad scientist’ archetype, Cub’s experiments are not exactly the most ethical, though they’re at least more professional than Doc’s. Responsible for the creation of Jevin. Cub gets possessed stupidly easily- sometimes willingly- and can usually handle it himself but sometimes has to call for help. Has a magical method of communication with Scar for exactly this reason. Has a day job as co-owner of a business called ConCorp, which he started with Scar. Has probably broken the Geneva Convention.
Doc
Was presumably human at one point. Now an abomination. Repeated experiments on himself have resulted in a massively changed facial and foot structure, a body covered in mottled green scales, claws, and goat horns. He lost half his face in one of his experiments, and constructed a new cybernetic one. He lost his right arm fighting God. Killed said god and would do it again. Lives in a mansion in the woods with Bdubs, though nobody’s really sure why. Owns a casino because of course he does. Also a living crime against fashion, because the man refuses to wear anything other than his tattered lab coat, torn jeans, and crocs.
Ely
Runs the local radio station. Nobody’s ever seen him in person, and nobody knows where he gets people’s voice clips for his remixes. Probably a cryptid. Maybe a ghost. Seems pretty chill, despite the blatant invasions of privacy.
Etho
Is a cryptid. Lives out in the woods in an abomination that can barely be called a house. Has never been seen in anything other than full Kakashi cosplay. Tends to keep to himself, but occasionally lets Beef drag him along to social events, often with Doc and Bdubs. Nobody really knows what his deal is. Probably not human. Probably.
False
Used to be part of an illegal underground cage fighting ring, until she earned enough to buy her way out. Having grown up in said ring, she struggles to adjust to normal life, but living in a town where the barista is a robot and the local tailor has wings makes it easier. She now has a job as security at Doc’s casino, alongside Iskall.
Grian
Is either an angel or a demigod, but nobody knows which. Has wings. Is both a tailor and an architect. A complete gremlin who has elaborate masks of various birds and will wear them to commit crimes. Eats seeds. Messes with everyone else’s plants. Lives in Jungle Wood Flats. Volunteers at the local theatre.
Hypno
Has three eyes, but hides the third one under a bandanna at all times. Can see ghosts with it. Had problems with sections of plumbing randomly getting clogged and also making very weird noises, and eventually called Team ZIT when the plumbers couldn’t find the source. Was prepared for ghosts, but wound up with a slime creature instead. Works in a $2 store for some reason.
Impulse
Is fully human. The most sensible member of Team ZIT (which admittedly isn’t saying much), Impulse has a day job as a freelancer building custom PCs and fixing broken tech. Agreed to the whole ghostbusting deal because he was bored, mostly. Was the first one to meet Skizz face-to-face, and is the one to own that particular place outright. Gets possessed every now and then, usually by larger spirits. Used to run solely on caffeine and chronic anxiety until Zedaph started getting on his case about his sleep schedule. Now he runs on less caffeine, more sleep, and the same amount of chronic anxiety.
Iskall
Was part of a cloning experiment to create the ultimate hitman, and was the only known one to both survive and escape before the whole thing was shut down by the authorities. Their eye and arm were replaced with cybernetics in order to increase their already enhanced abilities, and they were chased by said authorities, eventually winding up on Mumbo’s doorstep and becoming Mumbo’s problem. Now works as security at Doc’s casino, alongside False. Lives at Jungle Wood flats. Occasionally volunteers at the local theatre. Does bonsai as a hobby.
Jevin
Is the slime creature in the pipes. Hypno lets him live with him under the condition he stops blocking the plumbing and making weird noises at 3 AM (Jevin still blocks the plumbing and makes weird noises at 3 AM, just not as much as he was). Has taught himself to take a humanoid shape, and likes having fingers. Sleeps in the bathtub because he can. Was created from a vat of chemicals in a secret lab underneath the house, which used to be owned by Cub. Doesn’t really talk to the man in question that much, but will occasionally refer to Cub as his father for the sole reason of watching him go through eight existential crises in three minutes. Has a glock.
Joe
Head librarian at the local public library, and has read a lot of books on Supernatural Things. Is a veritable fountain of exposition if you can figure out what he’s saying or have Cleo along with you to threaten the integrity of his shins. Has never been seen in the same place as the Beetlejhost. Are they the same person? Are they entirely separate beings? Is there a Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde-type situation going on? Who knows!
Beetlejhost
Literally nobody really knows what his deal is. Nobody. Team ZIT ran into him on a call that they expected to be a false alarm and then he decided to follow them home. Spends most of his time being a minor nuisance in the most bizarre ways possible. Is implied to be responsible for the Ever Given getting lodged in the Suez Canal, but never confirmed. When he’s not bothering Team ZIT or getting them out of tight spots, he’s usually pestering Cleo, the only one who can keep him in line. It’s not really known if he and Cleo have a history or if they’re just Like That.
Keralis
Is a ghost haunting an architecture firm, and is mostly bound to the building, though he can travel to other buildings the firm has built, which is, uh, most of them. Initially only able to do small things- mostly writing notes or drawing diagrams- he eventually meets the Beetlejhost when the latter follows Mumbo to work one day for shits and giggles (he wanted to see how long he could mess with Mumbo before the man noticed. As it turned out, about a week, and by the end it was Iskall who noticed). After a couple of days in which Beetle teaches Keralis Ghost Things™, he scares half the office when he finally manifests for the first time. Has unnaturally large eyes and nicknames for most of the workers. Has no idea how he died or what his unfinished business might be. Very knowledgeable about architecture, and his input is usually very much appreciated.
Mumbo
Is a perfectly normal human being who does IT at Keralis’ architecture firm. Lives at Jungle Wood flats and spends most of his free time tinkering with tech and trying to keep Grian and Iskall out of trouble, which is a losing battle. Has a large, beating golden heart in his flat. He’s not really sure what its deal is, but if he feeds it apples it produces enough power for the entire building. Oh, and if he forgets to feed it for an extended period of time it starts draining his bank account. It’s really weird.
Pixlriffs
Was a perfectly normal human being until he died protecting a certain Russian zombie and became a perfectly normal ghost. Was a reporter in life and is a reporter in death. Runs a blog alongside Zloy about the local goings-on, supernatural or not. The blog’s the type where unless you live in/near the town you most likely won’t stumble across it, but they do have a small following of outsiders who assume the blog’s just a work of fiction. His unfinished business is to prevent Zloy from doing anything particularly stupid, a constant battle. Is able to go more places than Zloy due to being incorporeal, but respects people’s privacy. He’s bound to Zloy to a certain degree, not being able to go beyond a certain range of his friend. The range is pretty big, though, and he has plenty freedom of movement.
Python
Had a run-in with the fae as a kid, in which he accidentally pissed one off. In retribution, the faerie challenged him to answer a riddle or he’d be turned into a snake. Python’s answer was partially correct, so the faerie only transformed him partially. Python is fairly chill, though he strongly dislikes the cold and starts hissing if anyone disturbs him during Sun Time™. Sometimes Bdubs, being partially flora, joins Python for Sun Time™. He’s not venomous, because, you know...python. Also, he has a mildly disturbing habit of strangling rats and mice and then eating them whole, but he can’t help it and just tries not to do so when he has company.
Ren
Is a werewolf. He’s pretty chill regardless of form, though it’s only been recently he’s been comfortable enough leaving his ears and tail visible. He works as a lumberjack. One time Pixl introduced him to Monty Python’s Lumberjack Song and it quickly became his favourite thing. He spends most of his free time volunteering at the local theatre because Ren is absolutely a theatre kid and nobody can convince me otherwise. Gets possessed every now and then. Lives in Jungle Wood flats.
Scar
Works as a landscape developer. Gets possessed absurdly easily, though not quite as frequently as Cub. Has a magical method of communication with him. Technically co-owns ConCorp, but isn’t as involved. His cat, Jellie, is very obviously an eldritch abomination in feline form and he is comedically unaware of this. Lives in Jungle Wood Flats with Grian, Iskall, Mumbo, Stress, and Ren.
Skizz
Is the ghost haunting Team ZIT’s office. He was murdered by someone he’d thought was a friend who was trying to use his place to hide from the cops, and he’s stuck around, haunting the building. His unfinished business is to make sure nobody else uses the building for anyone shady, but the ghost rumours tended to chase most people off. Eventually he gets used to having Team ZIT around, and when Tango admits he doesn’t really have anywhere to go one day, Skizz eventually makes the decision to finally unlock the still-furnished upper floor for him. He’s bound to the building, but Impulse learns that carrying Skizz’s old vest with them allows him to leave. After that, Skizz sometimes accompanies them on missions and occasionally just hanging out. He’s usually more helpful than the Beetlejhost is.
Stress
Is a witch. Stress lives in Jungle Wood Flats and works as a doctor who specializes in supernaturally caused injuries- Team ZIT are some of her best customers. She also sells magic potions of various kinds, and has a side gig as a florist. She’s 90% of the Jungle inhabitants’ impulse control. Also has cryokinesis.
Tango
The Team ZIT member with a car. He gets possessed with frankly ridiculous frequency, but claims not to believe in ghosts for a long time (and keeps up the bit for even longer). Has developed various signals to indicate when he’s being possessed again. The strongest one, a rather nasty demon Cleo and the Beetlejhost had to team up on, left him with his glowing red eyes. He didn’t really have anywhere to go before Impulse bought the office, and tended to sleep on the couch or in his car until Skizz decided to let him into the upper floor, where he now lives alongside Zedaph and Impulse.
TFC
A now-retired ghostbuster, TFC calls in Team ZIT one night when he finds himself in over his head against a ghost with a grudge. He winds up becoming a bit of a mentor figure to the trio, usually coaching them over the phone if they’re not sure how to deal with one of the stranger spirits. Lost his leg years ago in a fight with a poltergeist that could have gone better, and now has a robotic prosthetic made by Doc.
Wels
While Team ZIT was out investigating some rumour or another in the woods, they came across a large stone box. Following video game logic, I guess, they then decided opening this large stone box sounded like a fun idea. Well, Tango and Zedaph did. Impulse was a bit more hesitant. The box actually held a medieval knight who’d been put in an enchanted sleep for centuries by his demonic doppelgänger, and was very much not prepared for modern life. Team ZIT took him to Xisuma, who happened to live closest, and Wels is currently helping out on the farm and trying to adjust to life in the 21st century. He can understand and speak modern English just fine because magic. Volunteers at the local theatre quite a lot.
Hels
Is Wels’ doppelgänger. Technically a minor demon. Won a fight with Wels and sealed him away for centuries as a result. A recurring problem. His real motivation is that he really desperately doesn’t want to go back to Hell, but he’s too proud to admit it. Lives in the woods with EX, who’s basically his only friend, though the weirdo with the brown cardigan keeps pestering him about his backstory and feelings for some reason. Has minor pyrokinesis.
XB
Like Biffa, XB is also a ghost from the future, though it seems to be a different timeline than Biffa’s. His unfinished business is preventing the apocalypse, but he has no idea how to do that, no idea if he’s in the right timeline, and is pretty sure he’s gone back a lot farther than he probably should’ve. Also, there’s the whole paradox issue, where if he prevents the apocalypse he never has a reason to go back and prevent the apocalypse, so he doesn’t prevent the apocalypse, so he has to go back and- he tries not to think about it too much. He mostly just hangs out in an abandoned house on the edge of town and vibes.
Xisuma
Is a beekeeper. Nobody’s ever seen his face; when he’s not in his beekeeping outfit, he’s either wearing a helmet, or (more recently) an extremely lifelike and detailed animal mask (is it a mask?). Actually a shapeshifting alien, he crashed down to Earth after a scuffle with his evil clone and was stranded because Earth doesn’t have the right tools or resources to repair a spaceship. These days he’s actually found he’s happier tending to his bees, selling honey, and helping his friends out, and probably wouldn’t leave Earth even if he could. It’s a simpler life, but a pleasant one. He bonds with Biffa over a shared love of tea and being stranded in a technologically inferior world and finding a home.
Evil Xisuma
Is Xisuma’s clone. Feels that if everyone’s going to call him ‘Evil’ he may as well own it. Shot his original’s spaceship down in a scuffle but wound up being brought down with him. Currently hides in the woods. Generally more of a minor nuisance than an actual danger. Used to spend his free time bothering X but has gotten put off by Wels, who has a problem when it comes to evil clones. His friends consist of Hels, who is a terrible role model, and Zedaph, who’s trying to help him work through his problems behind everyone’s backs. Can summon lightning because he deserves it.
Zedaph
Is the reason Team ZIT is ghostbusting in the first place. He’s a sheep shearer by trade, but that’s a fairly seasonal thing and ghostbusting is more fun anyway. Has somehow never been possessed, and claims it’s because he’s always standing next to Tango. He makes sure the other two gets enough sleep Because we all know they can’t be trusted to do it. Probably has some sort of really bizarre and situational magical powers he is thoroughly unaware of. Qualified to be a licensed therapist. Made friends with Evil X at one point, somehow.
Zloy
Like Cleo, he’s a ghost possessing a corpse. Unlike Cleo, there’s a good chance it’s not his corpse. Eh, it’s not like anyone else was using it. Runs a blog with Pixl, because why not. Was already a zombie when he met Pixl, who was still alive at the time. His body is a bit more decayed than Cleo’s, but it’s fine. His goggles are enchanted with the same preservation spell; it’s not really ever explained where he got them from. Has no regard for privacy but is fortunately unable to turn invisible or phase through walls due to inhabiting a physical body. Both can theoretically physically fight ghosts and has enough time to physically fight ghosts, meaning he would be a valuable ally if he could be bothered. Lives in a graveyard. Has an ongoing ‘feud’ with Cleo, in which he puts jabs at her on the blog. Once spent a week as a (very sarcastic) floating potato.
Hermiton
Is the name of the place they all live in/near. Located in an ambiguous location in an ambiguous country, Hermiton is technically large enough to be considered a city but has Town VibesTM. Supernatural going-ons are a fairly normal part of life, and a good number of inhabitants aren’t humans. Despite this, the wider world seems mostly ignorant of the existence of ghosts, magic, etc. I’m not too sure about geography, but it’s surrounded by forest in most directions and in a warm enough climate to not have snow in the winter (so Python doesn’t, you know, freeze to death). Most people don’t tend to bat an eyelid at strange-looking people walking down the street or serving them at the store; they’re used to it by now. There are several theories as to why Hermiton specifically has so much going on when it comes to the supernatural- ley lines, secretly the resting place of some long-forgotten god, et cetera- but it’s actually more of a case of ‘people who have supernatural traits hear rumours of a place where a lot of people have supernatural traits and go there in search of answers/a place to belong’. This doesn’t exactly explain where all the ghosts came from, but hey. Nothing’s perfect.
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concussed-to-pieces · 3 years
Text
The Mettle Of A Man; Part Twenty
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Fandom: Fallout (4)
Pairing: Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor
Rating: Holy shit M.
AN: Welcome to the end of our tale, everyone! Thank you so much for reading and enjoying over the years. I love you so much and appreciate you more than words can say. Here's to 2021, my friends! Ad Victoriam, and stay safe! Tagging @anonymouscosmos​, @culturalrebel, @wrestlingfae​, @toxiicpop​,  @mercy-and-malice, @deepkittycollecto, @nelba, @mechanicalism, @commandershepardshtole, @valkyriejack and @kovu-the-mythical-being. Enjoy!
Part One: ArcJet
Part Two: The Prydwen
Part Three: Orders
Part Four: Finding Brandis
Part Five: Weston Water And Oberland
Part Six: Meeting Preston And Matthew
Part Seven: Radstag And Radstorm
Part Eight: The Return To Sanctuary Hills
Part Nine: Domestic Ruminations
Part Ten: Institutionalized
Part Eleven: Two Weeks, Three Days
Part Twelve: Haylen’s Warning And The Glowing Sea
Part Thirteen: Under Fire
Part Fourteen: Dichotomy
Part Fifteen: The Litany Trial
Part Sixteen: Nice Try
Part Seventeen: Preparations
Part Eighteen: Divide And Conquer
Part Nineteen: Lucky
[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains holiday celebrations, brief emotional distress and unprotected sex. Stay safe!]
Time seemed to pass both too fast and not fast enough. 
  Synths were accommodated, reprogrammed at their wishes or helped to adjust to their new lives. Doctor Amari and the rest of the Railroad had no shortage of work, and Desdemona eventually tapped MacCready and Cait to oversee their caravan logistics back to the Capital Wasteland. 
  "And the people of the Commonwealth slept soundly, for the greatest monster was gone." Nick had remarked, touching the brim of his fedora in a half-salute. The old detective quickly appointed himself as head of first impressions in Diamond City, making certain that no trouble befell any wayward synth that accidentally wandered in. There was still a lot of work to be done to repair the Broken Mask incident, after all.
  New settlements sprang up overnight and while there may not have been total harmony, there was the sensation of the whole Commonwealth heaving a sigh of relief. Recruits flocked to the Minutemen and Brotherhood in droves as Piper's Publick Occurrences spread the word of their successful campaign against the Institute. 
  Commonwealth boogeyman decimated by combination effort: Brotherhood Of Steel and Minutemen join forces to save Boston from bodysnatchers!
  Deacon had effortlessly deflected Piper every time she asked for an interview, the mysterious man more than content to keep the Railroad shadowy. The less everyone knew, the less they could tell, and that suited him just fine. "You did real good, Icebox. Helped a lot of people."
  Elder Brandis sought approval to establish a permanent outpost at the Boston airport ruins, the former paladin keen to send the Prydwen back to the Capital Wasteland. "Oh the Prydwen's a fine ship, but put me in the field any day!" The airship, once a proud symbol of the Maxson reign, now served little purpose aside from blocking the sun on occasion. Scribes laughed and played in the massive shadow, kicking up dust until the circle where the litany trial had taken place was nothing but a memory.
  X6-88 had floundered for several weeks, the courser falling into a depressive slump that not even Curie could rouse him from. Oddly enough, it was Preston who ended up being able to haul him out of the darkness, the lieutenant making a point to visit the courser to drag him from his room for target practice and other low-effort patrol duties. "Sometimes all folks need is a hand, General." 
  The courser went on to reluctantly take the role of defective defector, working as a consultant to the Minutemen to help ward off any future attacks by desperate coursers or Institute scientists. Preston found his input invaluable, and the duo could often be found in the lieutenant's quarters poring over threadbare maps and trading tactical information. Preston also seemed to have a calming effect on the synth hunter, helping to blunt some of the cold steel edge that X6 had honed his entire life. Add on to that the constant caring presence of Curie, and they made a strange but surprisingly effective trio. 
  With the new supply line firmly established between the verdant utopia of Starlight Drive-In and Oberland Station, the strain of the prior lean months finally eased a bit. Faces grew less pinched even with the increased burden of the synths, and many settlers began to tentatively plan for a small celebration in the beginning of the winter. 
  "'The Holidays' is what they been callin' it, real simple and succinct. Some freaky hodgepodge of everyone's traditions. I guess a lot of folks on that fancy director's board also celebrated around this time of year. Not that the synths would know, naturally." Hancock had muttered, his expression sour. "Poor bastards always workin', and they ain't got fuckall to show for it. Seems like a shit deal."
  Elder Brandis granted Danse an extended leave of absence after the toppling of the Institute without the paladin even requesting it, the large man dumbfounded for a moment upon receiving the news.
  "If you're up for it, I could use a hand back at Sanctuary." Vega had grinned up at him, her eyes squinting a little under the force of her smile. "A lot of prep work goes into a holiday, after all."
  ...
  Danse had taken it upon himself to retreat from Shaun's previous bedroom when he accompanied Vega and her son back to Sanctuary. He debated heavily on returning to the airport; after all, there was no real reason for him to stay in Sanctuary Hills, at least none that he dared to dwell upon. The few small projects that Vega had to manage were easily accomplished and he was left a bit lost in the wake of the excess of his leave.
  Vega, however, had begun framing in what was once the carpark for her house. Sturges helped of course, and once Danse caught on he was touched by the gesture. 
  "I don't want you to feel like there isn't room for you just because Shaun is back." Elizabeth had said, lugging a chunk of scrap metal from the wreckage of her car. 
  The paladin had to take a moment, claiming sawdust in his eye as the culprit.
  Now Danse lived in the area she had partitioned off for him, uncertain if he still believed he was intruding. Those thoughts were troubling, because if he could get comfortable…
  What if Vega eventually decided that Shaun needed a father and what if...what if she chose a real man? Really real, not a sham like Danse was. And if she did, what man would permit Danse to stay? What real man would permit a synth that was currently entangled by these...human emotions to remain on their property, even if Danse proved he wasn't a threat?
  What man would believe him if he claimed to have no interest in Vega? Hell, Danse didn't even believe himself. 
  But he didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay. He wanted to tell Elizabeth...well, there were a lot of things he wanted to tell her.
  His silence was more of a burden each day, and Danse knew he must seem sullen. It gnawed at him; it felt like lying every time he choked the words back down because it wasn't the right time or he just didn't know what to say, and he didn't trust himself not to say something foolish.
  He decided he would wait until after the holiday gathering. Whatever the verdict was, it shouldn't take away from the joy she was clearly feeling over the festivities. So Danse threw himself into helping Sturges, Mama Murphy and the Longs around Sanctuary.
  Secretly making a toy truck for Shaun had been a painstaking process fraught with peril. Mainly because Danse was somewhat indelicate and carving tiny wheels had never been his area of expertise. Oh certainly, he could build a survival camp with nothing but a combat knife and time, but a toy...
  The paladin had spent countless hours creating prototypes in his cobbled-together room as he pondered the path he should take, sometimes working into the wan light of the morning. He eventually showed the truck to Jun, immensely fearful that Shaun might not enjoy the toy. Danse couldn't recall his own interests when he had been Shaun's age, and thus fell back on the other man's expertise. 
  "It looks good! Sand the wheels a little more, maybe give it a coat or two of paint." Jun praised the pensive paladin, turning the vehicle over in his hands to examine it. "Kyle loved these kinds of things y'know, trucks and trains and little toy boats." His gaze grew distant for a moment, the rough plaything stilling in his grasp. "Marcy thinks she's pregnant." He said abruptly.
  "Pregnant?" Danse repeated without meaning to, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline.
  Jun nodded jerkily. "It's been three months now. She's scared, Mr. Danse, real scared. Thinks something bad will happen."
  "What can we do?" The paladin asked sharply. 
  Jun gawked up at him, seeming confused. "We?"
  "I am unfamiliar with this process. What needs to be done?"
  "I...I don't follow, Mr. Danse."
  "To simplify the duration! What precautions can I-"
  "Whoa, hang on." Jun protested. "We aren't sure if the general will even let us stay here with an extra mouth to feed. I've been trying to figure out how to bring up the subject." He admitted. 
  "You haven't even told General Vega yet?!" Danse squawked. 
  "W-Well, no! I figured maybe we would...we'd see how the winter went and play it by ear." Jun mumbled, seeming defensive. 
  Danse seized the other man's arm, heedless of his protests as he hauled him across the front lawn to Vega's abode. Today was the day that Vega had planned to sort through decorations; there were many left over from the fall holiday the Commonwealth had been preparing to celebrate before...well, time had stopped for most when the bombs fell, it was understandable that faded pumpkins and skeletons would still grace crumbling walls with their orangey-cream presence.
  Vega looked up from the veritable pile of brittle, salvaged decor in confusion when Danse barged into their...her home, the paladin immediately halting and offering a sharp salute. "Danse! I...uh, what's wrong?"
  "Mr. Long has something he needs to discuss with you immediately." Danse informed her, tugging the other man forward. 
  "I-I...er, General, you…" Jun struggled to speak, twiddling his fingers wildly. "M-Marcy--"
  "What's wrong, Jun? Is she okay?" Vega asked, getting to her feet and shooting Danse a worried look. "Did something happen?"
  "B-Baby." Jun squeaked. "Pregnant."Backhand went still, her freckles stark against the fresh pallor of her face. "I'm sorry, General, I know we haven't discussed it beforehand a-and I know food's been better as of late...I-I guess she got enough nutrients and got healthy enough for...er, well, you know." Mr. Long looked like he wanted to disappear into the ground. "We should have spoke to you sooner; I don't know if she can leave with the weather being--"
  "Wh-Where are you going? Why leave, what?" Vega stammered, "Jun, you can't travel now, if something goes wrong-!"
  "We weren't sure if you'd let us stay!" The thin man interrupted her frantically. "This is your base, after all, and you didn't sign on for an extra person to worry about."
  Vega inhaled deeply. "Danse, could you give me a minute with Mr. Long?" She requested, her voice suspiciously even.
  Danse obeyed, closing the front door gently and meandering a pointed distance down the main thoroughfare so as not to eavesdrop. He had a relatively good idea of how the conversation would go, despite Jun's misgivings. So he wandered down to the huge tree at the end of the cul-de-sac, fiddling with the truck in his pocket absently as he stared upwards at the barren branches. 
  "Y'know kid," Mama Murphy piped up from her customary chair on her porch and the paladin turned to face her, giving the elderly woman his full attention. "When I had the Sight, I saw this place. Sanctuary." She nodded in the direction of the river, then gestured upwards. "The bridge, and this tree. Massive and old, worn out from all those years." She cocked her head, giving Danse an appraising look. "The tree though, it was...covered in lights. Like what you see in the pre-war mags. The Holidays, shinin' like a beacon of hope at the end of the tunnel." 
  Danse hummed, the vaguest beginnings of an idea taking root in his mind. He couldn't bring Vega's old life back, but maybe...maybe he could bring something from it back to her. Like what you see in the pre-war mags.
  "I think you're pickin' up what I'm puttin' down, kid." Mama Murphy's smile was knowing, the old woman reaching over to pet Dogmeat. The dog seemed to materialize out of thin air sometimes! "Now get to it."
  ...
  Backhand was already scurrying around the kitchen when Danse rose on the morning of the Holiday celebration, the paladin pausing only momentarily to yawn in the doorway before sleepily offering his assistance. "Is there something I can help with, Vega?"
  "Uh, Sturges, he said something about you and stuff from Goodneighbor, I think?" Elizabeth replied, obviously preoccupied with whatever she had in the semi-functional oven. Danse nodded, trudging across the kitchen to tug on his boots by the door. 
  Shaun bounded out of the bathroom, his face still damp from his morning wash. "Oh, can I help too? Please Mom, let me help Mister Danse and Mister Sturges!" He begged.
  "You'd better stay right where Danse and Sturges can see you." Backhand instructed him sternly, one oven-mitted hand gesturing to indicate the gravity of the situation. "Otherwise you're coming straight back inside. Go put on your warm coat."
  Shaun cheered in delight, racing back to his room.
  "It's okay that he's with you two, right? I know he's not your responsibility." Backhand continued in an undertone to the paladin.
  Danse's throat tightened and it took him a moment to respond, "I don't mind at all. He's a very well-behaved child." 
  "Let me know if he's an issue and I'll bring him back inside. I just need to get this done and the oven is being all-" 
  Danse stood up and placed his hands on her shoulders, deliberately schooling his expression into something more stern. "General, you're doing a fine job. Stop worrying."
  "Am I? Shit, I really hope so." Elizabeth mumbled, tipping her forehead until it rested against his chest. Danse prayed she couldn't hear his heart, hammering merely from her proximity. God, his body was nothing but an embarrassment waiting to happen. "I've never really done this crap. Not sure if I'm cut out for it."
  The momentary respite was broken when Shaun reappeared in his oversized flannel and oilcloth jacket, the child bolting past the two adults to put on his boots. Danse reluctantly released Backhand, noting how flushed her face was but not really daring to dwell on it. "I'll...I'll watch him." The paladin said, his voice a bit stilted. "I promise."
  "Thank you." Backhand mumbled, wiping her eyes and then returning to coddle…whatever it was in the oven.
  "Ready, Shaun?" Danse asked the boy, who nodded rapidly and extended a hand. 
  The snow outside was still fresh from the night before and Danse took a moment to appreciate the view of the Commonwealth covered in a thin layer of white. Off in the distance, the towering crimson insignia of the Red Rocket gasoline station stood stark against the backdrop of the gray sky. Even further down the road slumbered the empty shell of Concord, the tallest of the town's dilapidated buildings only just visible from the paladin's position. 
  Shaun tugged at his hand, pulling his attention back to the present. "Mister Danse, Mister Sturges is waiting for us!" The child announced, waving up at the engineer who was currently settled into a crook of the brittle branches that graced the tree on the cul-de-sac island. "Hi Mister Sturges!"
  "Howdy fellas! Come to give me a helpin' hand?" Sturges called, grinning down at the two of them. 
  "What assistance can we offer?" Danse queried, wary that the other man might suggest Shaun climb up to him. His fears were quickly allayed when Sturges instead asked Shaun and Danse to begin untangling the long strands of old lights. 
  Hancock and his ilk had arrived from Goodneighbor, bearing the gifts of dubious treats and many, many mangled strings of lights. Goodneighbor had always been drenched in neon, after all, so Danse had assumed the ghoul mayor would be the best person to call upon for aid. It would appear that Hancock had delivered in spectacular fashion.
  "With your help, we'll have this place lookin' pretty as a picture in no time!"
  …
  Maybe she had bitten off slightly more than she could chew, trying to cook a traditional dinner. Backhand sighed, glumly poking at the cold poultry with a wooden spoon. Her cooking skills had never been much to write home about in the first place, and this only served to solidify that fact. 
  "Oh Mum, I'm so sorry. The old oven just isn't how it used to be." Codsworth commented, his mechanical voice tinged with melancholy. 
  "It's not a big deal, Codsworth. I hate to waste the food, that's all." Backhand muttered, assuring herself that she wasn't fighting back frustrated tears, her eyes were just tired. "Damn thing didn't even get to the warm phase."
  "Mum, if I might suggest…?" The robot started hesitantly, carrying on when she nodded. "Perhaps it can be salvaged. After all, we make bread in that same pan by tucking it beneath the hot coals out front. What do you say, shall we give it a go?"
  "Got nothing to lose, right?" 
  "It will be just fine, Mum! You're an adaptive sort." Codsworth remarked, drifting out the front door to stoke the usual cooking fire to life once more. "Indeed, just fine!" He called. 
  Vega shook her head ruefully. "Oh I'm sure." The woman grumbled. "Can't cook and comes with baggage. What a catch ol' Vega is." At least the bread had come out well, in spite of the brisk weather. She could thank whoever for that small favor.
  Once Codsworth had coaxed the embers to life in the fire pit, Elizabeth bundled up and brought the still-cold cast-iron pot outside. Maybe it had been wishful thinking to believe that the oven portion of her stove would still work. Or even heat at all. It had been promising earlier in the week, but this might be a blessing in disguise. If the whole house had gone up due to a cooking malfunction...well, the holidays wouldn't be too happy then, would they?
  "Please cook." She begged under her breath, troweling hot coals onto the battered dutch oven lid. "I need this, y'know? Just a little victory, that's all I'm asking for here." 
  "Shall I get started on the tatoes, Miss Vega?" 
  Elizabeth nodded, only half-listening to Codsworth. She knew she would have a good forty five minutes to an hour to wait, and it wasn't as if it was colder outside than it was inside. The joys of semi-functional heating! 
  Vega shook her head at herself after a second, since when did she dwell on everything that Sanctuary wasn't? At the end of the day, it was her home. She wouldn't trade it for the world, and she knew she had much more than most people.
  At that thought, her gaze wandered to where Danse and Shaun were. The larger man had Shaun on his shoulders while he patiently unwound a massive bundle of flickering string lights. Shaun, for his part, was passing the untangled lights up to Sturges. The engineer slid down the ladder so he could reach the child, looping the lights over his arm before climbing back up and painstakingly placing them in the gnarled grasp of the tree's limbs.
  The manufactured cheer that the lights had given off pre-war was still somewhat there, though the radiant colors were washed out to pastel and the warm whites had gone dingy gray. Instead of it being a melancholy reminder that her life had changed irreparably, Backhand was overcome with gratitude. For her son's safe return, regardless of his synthetic makeup, and for the man who was currently carrying Shaun on his shoulders. For her home, for her family.
  A family. 
  Perhaps she was getting a little ahead of herself. After all, Danse was still adjusting to life in ordinary time. It would be selfish of her to voice her feelings to him while he was coming to terms with everything that had happened. For better or for worse, their lives were different now. 
  It ought to be enough that he was in her life at all. She should be content. His presence alone was a miracle; for all intents and purposes he should be dead. Yet there he was, mere feet away, helping to brighten up the holiday celebration.
  Tonight there would be a multitude of visitors. God only knew how many would arrive from settlements near and far, to say nothing of Goodneighbor, Diamond City, the Prydwen and the Castle! It would be an incredibly busy evening for certain. Hancock had arrived early with a posse of ragtag drifters from Goodneighbor, all of them offering gifts of food or scavenged ornaments to decorate. Hence the massive mound of lights that was currently being diligently sorted through.
  The aforementioned ghoul appeared to have delegated the task of quality checking the lights, as his form currently leaned against the faded blue siding of her house. With cigarette smoke wafting from his mouth and nasal cavity in equal amounts, he seemed content to just watch the chaos unfold. 
  "Aren't you a little chilly?" Backhand queried, raising an eyebrow. The mayor was still clad in his usual garb of...for lack of a better term, repurposed period dress. Granted it wasn't seasonably cold out, at least not like how she remembered it being before the bombs dropped.
  "Nah, we ghouls run pretty warm. Ham's like a portable space heater." Hancock answered, giving her a lazy grin. "Cute of you to worry, though. I must be growin' on ya'."
  "Whoa there, let's not get too crazy."
  "Whatcha' think, General?" Sturges shouted from his perch, waving to get her attention.
  Danse turned in place, appearing to realize that she was watching as his hands flew up and grabbed Shaun's legs, stabilizing the small boy on his shoulders. 
  Backhand couldn't keep from smiling when she called back, "it looks wonderful! Keep up the great work!"
  "That ain't the only thing that looks wonderful, right Sunshine?" Hancock snickered, rolling his eyes at the now-sputtering woman. "You better give the Brave Little Toaster the ride of his life, that's all I gotta' say."
  "Hancock!" Vega hissed, making a half-hearted swipe at the mayor. "You fuckin'--"
  "Ah ah, little pitchers!" Hancock scolded, tilting his head to the side to draw Vega's attention to the rapidly-approaching form of Duncan, MacCready's son. "Gotta' watch that mouth of yours, Sunshine."
  "This ain't over, ya' raisin-lookin' bastard." Backhand snarled under her breath, pasting on a friendly smile for Duncan while Hancock wheezed with laughter. "Hey bud, how's things?" She greeted the child, who grimaced. 
  "Dad's kissin' Miss Cait again. S'gross." The little boy announced, wrinkling his nose in disgust. 
  "That does sound pretty gross." Hancock piped up before Backhand could reply. "But you like seein' your old man happy, right? The lady makes him happy. Simple as that."
  "Yeah, I guess. Can I play with Shaun?" Duncan asked Vega, eyes wide as he seemed to take in the tree covered with lights. 
  "Go ahead, kiddo! Just be careful and stay away from Sturges' ladder." Elizabeth warned, grinning when the little boy took off with a whoop. 
  Cait and MacCready strode up after a moment, both of them red-faced. MacCready bent double, his hands on his knees. "I'm not built for these bullsh--awful conditions." He panted. "I don't know how the kid does it. He was nearly dead a few months ago and now he's out here kicking the snow in the a--er, butt."
  Backhand glanced around, and then snorted. "You call this snow? It's a dusting. Back before-"
  "Ah ah, easy now Mumsicle, we ain't got time for yer trip down memory lane." Cait teased. "Work to be done, aye? C'mon then, General, shape up. What you doin' on the ground anyway, all crouched like a mother hen broodin'?"
  "I'm cooking." Vega replied tersely. 
  "Oh aye? Looks like yer shirkin' t' me, love. Codsy can manage that mess, c'mon." Cait seized her elbow, levering her up out of the snowy grass. "Now, what needs doin'?"
  ...
  The day was a whirlwind of arrivals, preparations and well wishers. Elder Brandis even stopped by briefly, taking precious time away from his all-consuming duties to distribute some useful supplies and catch up on the gossip. 
  The Diamond City trio graced Sanctuary with their presence shortly before noon, Nat scurrying off to play with Duncan and Shaun while Piper made a beeline for Hancock's merry band. Nick was more keen to meander around the outskirts of the groups forming, amber eyes taking in his surroundings.
  Preston appeared midafternoon with X6, Curie and the entire O'Brian clan in tow, later than expected but apparently they had stopped to help out a settlement along the way. 
  The cul-de-sac soon rang with the laughter of the rambunctious children; even little Siusan was permitted to briefly toddle about in the trampled snow under the watchful gaze of Eamon. The weather was chilly but the sun had broken through the clouds throughout the day, sending momentary waves of brilliance across the Commonwealth. 
  Every table and chair that could be salvaged had been assembled on the old foundation at the end of the cul-de-sac, and it was there that the adults began to gather as the sun set. Metal drums loaded with wood were lit, providing heat and illumination to the many guests of the Commonwealth's first official potluck dinner. 
  "Or rather," Piper amended, clearing her throat with a touch of self-importance as she tapped her notepad, "the first documented official potluck dinner."
  The large tree twinkled and shone in the fast-approaching darkness, the occasional flicker or broken bulb doing little to diminish the cheer it provided. The food was distributed, Backhand's roast chicken disappearing without a hitch. The young woman couldn't help doing a mental dance of victory, delighted that Codsworth's quick thinking had saved that particular endeavor.
  Vega found a place to sit somewhere in the middle of one of the many long tables, red from the praise of her companions and the persistent chill in the air. She got even redder when Preston loudly proclaimed a toast, to the General!, her lieutenant tipping his bottle and everyone else following suit. 
  "I remember when I first met the general, she was half-dead on her feet." Preston began the story, his smile fond. "Sturges couldn't even believe our luck. Hell, none of us could. When freedom called, our general answered!"
  Backhand, who had lived the story and knew all the ins and outs, found her attention wandering to Danse while Preston regaled the crowd with his tale. The paladin seemed to be listening closely, his meal forgotten. Deacon even began to thieve bits of chicken and tato out from beneath his nose, the Railroad agent shooting Vega a sly wink over his sunglasses. 
  Backhand shook her head at the other man's antics, then focused her attention on Preston. "...'Lurk queen, a huge, mean seabug, taken out by landmines! The Castle was ours once again, and we all had General Vega to thank for it." The lieutenant stated firmly. "The one who can get things done in the Commonwealth, the one who gave folks hope when it was in mighty short supply. We uh, we owe you a lot, ma'am." He raised his bottle once more. "To General Vega, leader of the Minutemen!"
  "To Elizabeth!" Hancock yelled, echoed by half the damn populace as Vega tried to wave it off, the young woman laughing awkwardly. "To our Sunshine, the hero of the Commonwealth!" 
  "Synth savior, a regular knight in shining armor." Deacon teased.
  "Well done, General Vega." Danse said warmly, "I can't know for certain whether the Brotherhood itself would be proud, but I certainly am." His praise for whatever reason made Vega's blush feel like it would scorch her skin. 
  Oh she knew damn well why, she was just being willfully oblivious at this point.
  "Speech! Speech! Is that not zee norm for zis sort of occasion?" Curie called, the diminutive synth currently sharing X6-88's coat as well as his plate of food. X6 didn't seem to have any reservations about the matter, his arm slung around her shoulders without a care in the world.
  Much to Vega's chagrin, the majority appeared to be in favor of such a vocal endeavor. She attempted to laugh off the suggestion to no avail, and finally got to her feet. "Alright, alright, settle down. I'll say a few words if it'll get you all off my damn back." She grumbled, her body thoroughly warm now with a combination of embarrassment and gratitude. "I uh…" 
  Vega trailed off as she looked out over the ragtag gang of expectant faces staring back at her. So many friends and neighbors, finally getting the chance to breathe. The chance to celebrate the fruits of their labor...it was sobering.
  "I can't thank you all enough for...well, for everything that you've done. You all sacrificed so much for this peace, stuff I could never imagine doing even before the bombs dropped." She cleared her throat. "My mentor, Sergeant Shaun Cathan, was a great man, and he often had some very succinct or choice words which I'm not about to repeat in polite company."
  "Aw c'mon-!" Zeke began to protest loudly, his voice fading as he noticed the small gaggle of children still gawking at his power armor.
  Backhand continued, her jaw set firmly, "but one thing I can say that he told me is this: a leader who permits their pride to impede their decisions is doomed to failure. Pride built the Institute, and that same pride rotted it to the core. Pride built the Brotherhood of Steel, the Minutemen, and we've seen the both of them nearly toppled." Vega clenched her fist. "Pride brought nuclear fire down on Boston, but people hauled themselves outta' the ashes of that fire. Good people, tough people. Folks I knew. Folks I cared for, even if some of 'em did spend a little too much time on the Cape. If pride can do so much effin' harm, I expect simple compassion and decency to do just as much good. Hell, more than that. Humanity's built itself back up after the cluster that was armageddon, and we ain't through yet." 
  She tipped the jar she had been drinking out of towards the crowd, sternly studying the collection of scavengers, families both new and familiar.
  ...
  "So here's to you, my friends. To all that you've done, and to all that you will do." 
  Vega's salute was rigid, pre-war. Like her helmet on the table beside her, scraped and covered in faded sigils. The mixture of candlelight and the lights on the tree reflected off the worn lenses of her glasses, shielding her eyes from view. Danse wished desperately that he could see her eyes; more than anything he wished to stand up and flat-out state what she had done for him to every soul there, display his...admiration. 
  Was that even the right word? Admiration, adoration, affection--
  His face was strangely warm all of a sudden. Danse flinched, staring down at his mug of coffee with single-minded intent as the buzz of conversation around him picked back up. His mind raced, pieces falling into place in a nigh-unstoppable rush.
  Affection. Like...what he had felt for Cutler? Almost. A little to the left of that. Brighter. 
  Happier. 
  Not perfect, nothing could ever be perfect. But...
  "Elizabeth Vega?" A male ghoul's voice barely penetrated the paladin's consciousness, his words not really registering until, "Beth, it really is you!" The ghoul exclaimed. "I thought I was crazy! It's me, Beth. It's Nate."
  "...Nate?" 
  Danse's head whipped up so fast his neck popped in warning, the paladin having been only tangentially aware of the conversation happening mere feet away from his position. But at that particular nickname his entire being snapped to attention, eyes darting sidelong from where he had been intently studying his mug of coffee. 
  The ghoul man that Vega was currently speaking to was an inch or two taller than her, with a single tuft of dark hair that still remained over his left ear. He appeared absolutely delighted, but Vega seemed...wary.
  "Beth," Danse heard him say once more, and he watched Backhand visibly tense. "I never thought I would see you again! After the bombs dropped--I mean how the hell did...is that Shaun? God, he got so big!"
  "Nate, is there something I can do for you?"
  Nate. 
  Danse's breath caught in his throat and his mouth went dry. Nate? Nate her ex-husband from before the war? Nate, the man who had divorced her once he found out she was pregnant with his child? 
  Somehow he had managed to survive? 
  Oh, what an incredibly bitter thing to think! Danse was somewhat startled by his own dark path of reasoning. But it wasn't untrue; his mind railed at the unfairness of it all. 
  The paladin stood up, his mug of coffee forgotten. He wasn't exactly certain what he was about to do, but he also wasn't going to do nothing. He cast around wildly for a plan as he approached Elizabeth from behind around the table, and Danse latched onto what was probably the least intelligent course of action that he could have conjured up.
  "Elizabeth," the paladin called, loud enough to be heard over the general hubbub. She turned and Danse briefly spied a look of intense relief on her face before he enveloped her in his arms. "You appeared cold, figured I could warm you up a bit." He reasoned aloud, smiling benignly over her head at Nate. "Who's this?"
  Vega began to introduce him even with her face still comically buried in Danse's chest, "Nate, I'd like you to meet-"
  "Paladin Logan Danse, Northeastern chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel." Danse interrupted her smoothly, extending a hand to Nate. "I've heard a great deal about you, Nate. It's a privilege to meet you, and a welcome surprise to see that you endured the radiation."
  "Uh, is it? Well I-I guess it is." Nate looked flummoxed and crestfallen all at once, glumly shaking Danse's hand. "I suppose you two are, er..."
  "Vega is my partner, yes. For over a year now." Danse replied once the other man had trailed off, his tone saccharine-sweet. He heard Vega gasp against his chest. "She is a truly incredible woman. I'm immensely lucky."
  "Yeah, I...yeah. Uh, I have to go...talk to--I'll see you later, Beth." Nate squeaked, sidestepping away from the two of them and making a beeline for the road.
  "I can't even believe it." Backhand's voice grated with tangible irritation. "I cannot even fuckin' fathom--I...dammit, why him?!" She seethed into Danse's jacket, clenching her fists on his hips. "Phew, boy, I sort of thought I'd already dealt with all that resentment." The woman admitted unhappily.
  "You do things in your own time." Danse replied quietly. "Are you alright?"
  Vega went still for a second. Danse felt her unclench her fists, hands going slack on his body. Had he misspoken-?
  "In my own time, huh?" Vega muttered, almost like she was thinking out loud. "I...I'll be back in a little while, Danse."
  …
  I'm not panicking. Definitely not panicking. One hundred percent not panicking, totally fine.
  Backhand scurried away from the paladin, trying to hide the tell-tale redness of her face. She needed to find either Mrs. O'Brian or MacCready, fast. 
  As luck would have it, MacCready found her. The former merc tapped on her shoulder as she bounced up on her tiptoes to search for Mrs. O'Brian. "Hey boss, Shaun wanted me to ask you if he could sleep over with Duncan tonight." The man began after she whirled around to face him.
  "Yes." Vega replied, perhaps a little too quick and definitely too enthusiastic. "Mac you're a lifesaver, I was just about to ask-"
  "-for me and Cait to watch your kid so you and the tin can can get some alone time?" MacCready smirked, giving her a wink. "Dang General, I don't think I've ever seen you so red! Don't worry, your secret's safe with me."
  "Shut up, Mac, you're so exasperating." Backhand jabbed a teasing finger into the center of his chest. "You talk, Mayor, and I'll know." The threat was toothless; the both of them grinned at each other after their fierce staring contest. "Thanks for everything."
  "Don't mention it. I figure getting you some Brotherhood...uh, Steel, heh, is a pretty decent way to make up for the fact that I didn't bring you a present." Mac shrugged, fiddling with the bill of his hat. "I have beef with the Capital Brotherhood, but these guys...I mean, they don't seem all bad." He allowed grudgingly, giving Vega a gentle nudge with his shoulder. "Go on."
  A bracing shot of whiskey shored up her tenuous spark of confidence and Vega marched back to Danse, the large man now engaged in conversation with X6 while Shaun, Duncan, Bridget, Nat and Matthew swirled around their ankles. 
  Danse was saying, "--collateral ramifications would be inadvisable, I suggest a soft breach. With adequate preparation-" 
  "Adequate preparation on your part borders on over-caution." X6 interrupted him dismissively. "However, I will take it into account and speak with Preston on the matter. He seems to share your morality. A pity."
  "Play at the unfeeling machine all you want, X6." Danse retorted. "It does you no favors. You have people who care about you now, and you would not have asked for my input if you believed the endeavour would be futile."
  "True enough, Paladin." The vaguest hint of a smile tugged at X6's mouth. "You are capable."
  "I suppose that is the best that I can hope for."
  "Hey, Danse? Can I uh, have a little chat?" Backhand asked, stifling a hysterical giggle when Danse immediately looked guilty. The paladin nodded, bidding X6 farewell and attempting to sidestep around the children who were currently playing tag in an ever-tightening circle. "Not um, here though. Let's go to my house, okay? Shaun, you're all set to stay overnight with Duncan, Mac and Cait, right?"
  "Yeah!" Shaun replied breathlessly, pausing in his chase to give his mother a massive grin. "Already brought my blankets over and everything. Mister MacCready said Duncan and I could sleep in their wagon, and that he'd tell us Grognak stories!"
  Danse's brow furrowed. "We are leaving the gathering, then?" He asked, looking a bit distressed when Elizabeth nodded. "A moment, please." He turned back to the children, calling for Shaun. 
  The boy bolted away from the group, skidding in the muddy slush. "Yeah, Mister Danse?" He asked, his impatience plain.
  "I, er. I...happy holidays." The paladin mumbled, extracting a small bundle from his jacket pocket and giving it to the child. 
  "Whoa, for me?!" Shaun practically crowed, tearing through the old newspaper to reveal the gift.
  It was a sturdy carved vehicle, its edges sleek and smooth. The wood was coated in shiny green paint, giving the little truck a distinct air of newness in this post-apocalyptic world. Danse swallowed audibly as Shaun stared down at the toy without saying a word. 
  Backhand closed her eyes, hoping and praying that the kid remembered his manners. She hadn't even known Danse had planned on giving him something. Did he make the truck himself? It was wood, not the usual plastic or aluminum of pre-war children's toys. When had he found the time to make a toy? She suddenly remembered his uncharacteristically wide yawn that morning and her eyes flew open, darting to look at Danse. He had been staying up, hadn't he?
  "I love it, Mister Danse!" Shaun interrupted her mental panic with his enthusiastic eruption, smiling wide and bolting forward to hug Danse around the waist. Danse's own relief was evident, the large man patting the child on the back with an awkward chuckle.
  Oh Jesus, I'm not going to cry, Vega insisted, taking a deep breath. Nope, won't do it.
  "Mom look, look what Mister Danse gave me!" Shaun exclaimed, as if she hadn't been standing right there the whole time. 
  "It's really cool, right?" Backhand grinned, rumpling his hair and then giving him a kiss on the forehead. "Make sure you wash your face and brush your teeth before bed, okay? I hope you and Duncan have fun. I love you." 
  "I love you too, Mom, I will. Thank you again, Mister Danse!" Shaun rushed to say, clearly eager to return to his friends. 
  "Alright, go on." Vega tapped the end of his nose, "go have fun." She watched him scramble through the slush, nearly tripping again. "Jesus, he's a bull in a china shop," she sighed, making Danse snort. "Shall we, Paladin?"
  He fell into step beside her, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket and his back ramrod straight. He was silent until they were actually in Elizabeth's living room, the young woman barely able to shut the front door before he started babbling, "if I offended you earlier, if I-I overstepped my bounds, I apologize. I just recalled what you had said about the name he used for you and I'm afraid I started moving before I could reconsider-"
  "Danse, do you remember how we started all of this?" Vega cut off what promised to be a downright incredible justification, cocking her head to the side. "How we met, and what happened?"
  "You came to our aid at the Cambridge police station. Then you carried on assisting me with our mission. You helped acquire the deep range transmitter. You greased my armor." Danse paused, fidgeting. "You...said it was alright if I wanted to kiss you."
  “It’s alright if you want to kiss me, you know.” Her smile was gentle. “I wouldn’t mind.”
  Vega nodded, smiling once more. "The offer still stands, naturally."
  "I...things are different now. I'm different. You still...even now, after everything that you know about me?"
  "Of course."
  "I didn't want to believe you felt that strongly about our...about us." Danse was smiling, actually smiling! "I'd given up hope a long time ago that I would ever be enough for anyone. I was never...enough. Smart enough, or strong enough or...well, just enough, I suppose." He shrugged, his smile fading. "With what happened between Maxson and I, and previously with Cutler…" The large man trailed off.
  Vega took a deep breath, nodding furiously. "I do feel strongly for you. Danse, I know that this is a lot, b-but I...uh, I think I love you." She gestured up and down at the speechless paladin, feeling the heat that bloomed fresh on her cheeks. "Not just the wrapping, y'know, but uh. The whole package. You."
  His look of shock and confusion slowly dissolved into something unreadable, and he broke eye contact for a moment to stare down at his boots. 
  "Uh, it's okay if you don't reciprocate! O-Or even if you can't reciprocate, I'm not going to be offended!" Elizabeth rushed to add, waving her hands nervously. "I know that this is a lot to dump on you all at once, I-I'm sorry. I don't want you feeling pressured to give me an affirmative answer just because you don't want to hurt my feelings or whatever."
  "I...I can't say that I haven't thought about it." He admitted softly. "But Shaun, he needs--Vega, I'm not really human." 
  "Neither is Shaun, but I don't love him any less." Elizabeth replied. "Shaun is my son. For all intents and purposes, he is my real son, Danse."
  "It's one thing to overlook it for a child, Vega. But I'm...what if something goes wrong with me? What if there's some sort of fault in my programming, and that's why I'm like this? What if-"
  "It's alright if you don't want me, or even if this is too much right now. I know, it's a lot." Vega interrupted him, her heart sinking but determined to make damn sure he didn't feel pressured.
  "Christ, that's not what I meant. I just want to make certain you know exactly what it is that you're agreeing to." Danse cut her off, his shoulders rigid like he was bracing for impact. 
  "I understand, Danse. I've understood for a while now." Elizabeth dared to rest her hand on his arm. "I want to be with you. I know that nothing in this shitshow of a future is guaranteed and I want to have something good in my life before my inevitable demise at the hands of some overconfident mole rat."
  Danse nodded stiffly, and then grabbed her by the lapels of her canvas coat. Vega found herself abruptly pinned against the wall, Danse's mouth hungrily seeking her own. "You mean that?" He panted.
  The brush of the stubble on his face reminded her of their first kiss in the Cambridge station and drove home the differences between he and Nate for the hundredth time. Nate was always clean-shaven, favored pecks on the cheek and lived saturated with cologne. But Danse was grizzled, earnest, reeking of the outdoors and power armor grease. Nate had been eloquent, while Danse was taciturn or tripped over his words. Nate was cold and calculating, and Danse…
  Danse was fiery and raw, more vulnerable now than she could ever recall him being before. His knee nudged against her thigh and without conscious input, Elizabeth parted her legs for it and threw her arms around his neck to try to urge him even closer. "Yes, Danse," she gasped. "Oh, Jesus, yes, fuck-ing shit--"
  She ground herself down against his leg, relieved that everything seemed to be functioning normally and somewhat impressed by her body's ability to mount such a rapid response after a two hundred-plus year dry spell! 
  "Language," Danse rumbled in reply, his hands tugging her heavy coat off of her shoulders. "Too fast?"
  "No, hell no!" Backhand protested, "not fast enough."
  "Shh," Danse rested his hands on her hips, shoving up her shirt slightly so he could touch bare skin. "I have you, Vega." Vega pushed herself excitedly into his grip, grinding on his thigh and arching her back. The way his breath hitched sent shockwaves to her core; the way he watched her...
  "Danse we should...we should-" Vega's voice wavered as Danse laved her throat with tender kisses. "-should--bedroom, bed."
  "Yes." The paladin growled, making no move to actually follow the direction. That is, until he hoisted her up to rest on his hips. 
  Backhand yelped, her thighs gripping his sides tightly. "H-Hey!"
  Danse pressed his forehead to her own, brown eyes attempting to read her soul. "Elizabeth…" he sighed, his expression gone hopelessly soft. "I should warn you, if we...if you do this, I...listen, I can be a little--a little wordy, sometimes. If I am speaking too much-"
  "Hey, no, you talk as much as you'd like, okay? Doesn't bug me at all." Vega assured him, slightly curious about what this might mean. Wordy? 
  "Elizabeth, you are everything that I never knew I was looking for." Danse murmured. "When I lost Cutler, I didn't think I deserved to be happy again. I assumed that my failure would continue to darken any future triumph, and when the majority of Gladius was...I feared that I was unfit for my rank. How could anyone have faith in my skills after such a catastrophic loss of life?"
  "It's hard being the one making the choices. You have to be able to bear the burden of responsibility and also the burden of guilt." Vega reasoned, sympathizing with his plight.
  "You had faith in me, though. You didn't even know me, but you didn't judge me for my inadequacy and you allowed me some damn peace. I'm just sorry you had to go through that abuse at Maxson's whim for my sake." Danse cupped her hand in his own, pressing kisses to her scarred knuckles. "You've already done so much for me, Vega. Let me undo you?" He offered seriously, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
  "Well, I uh, I-I can't say I've ever been propositioned quite like that!" Backhand stuttered, certain that her flush covered her entire body at this point. 
  His laughter, heard so rarely, washed over her like a tidal wave. "Forgive me."
  "Only if you keep asking me to have sex like that." Vega shifted her hand in his grip, intertwining their fingers. "C'mon, bedroom."
  "It's not just that." Danse tried to protest, shaking his head. "I care about you. About your wellbeing. I want to make you happy."
  "You do. So happy. I'm so glad that you're here with me still." Vega turned in the doorway of her room when he set her down, seizing Danse by the collar of his worn t-shirt and tugging him into her arms. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Danse."
  "You don't know how much it means to me to hear you say that." 
  "It's the truth, though!" She insisted.
  Danse surged forward, his kisses still rough and demanding as he fought to claim her affection. But she gave it freely, all he could ever want and more.
  He stripped her of her shirt and dragged his own off over his head, chuckling at the way she greedily drank in the bare skin he presented. "See something you like, General?" 
  He was hairier than she was used to, but Backhand decided it suited him. Nate, after all, had been absolutely adamant that body hair was grotesque, and now look at him. He'd likely never have to worry about that again.
  Thinking of Nate yet again put a frown on her face and Danse paused, giving her a quizzical look. "Is something amiss?"
  "Oh! No, I'm sorry. I was just remembering. Nate was all…" Elizabeth gestured vaguely at Danse's chest. "He shaved everything. I'm not used to all...well, seeing so much."
  "Is it off-putting? I assure you it's within the Brotherhood's hygiene guidelines, but if you don't like it I-"
  "No, I love it. It's new. I've seen your arms, after all, I knew what I was getting into." Vega teased, grinning to ease his worry. "If you can accept all my stretch marks and leftovers, I can definitely handle your chest pelt."
  "I'm planning on doing far more than accepting." Danse cradled her breasts in his palms, the paladin lowering his head to draw his tongue over one of her nipples. "I don't care." He soothed when Elizabeth tried to stammer out something else in regard to her stretch marks. "I don't care. It doesn't make you any less desirable to me, Elizabeth."
  Vega squeezed her eyes shut, kissing his forehead as he continued to cautiously rouse her peaks until they were stiff and aching for more. Then his thumbs took over, stroking in slow, firm circles that made her quiver from head to toe. "You...you're really good at that." Elizabeth said faintly.
  "I'm pleased you think so." Danse grunted when her fingers found his belt buckle. "It has been a significant amount of time for me as well, I...my excitement may be a bit obvious." He admitted, his smile sheepish. 
  Vega's breath caught in her throat, her hands trembling as she struggled to draw down the worn zipper of his jeans. The underside of his cock throbbed against her palm when she dared to slip her hand into his briefs, his skin searing and smooth. 
  Danse huffed out a breath, crumpling a little at her tentative touch. "Elizabeth," he groaned, hiding his face in her neck as he rolled his hips eagerly into her hand. 
  "Keep saying my name like that." She ordered, laughing when the paladin nodded rapidly into her shoulder. "I love you, Danse."
  ...
  Danse rumbled again, words failing him while Elizabeth's fingers wrapped around his cock. This seemed like a dream, another one of his fantasies brought into being. He couldn't seem to do anything aside from stare down at her hand. 
  "Hey, Danse?"
  He jerked to attention, eyes flying up to meet her own guiltily. "Y-Yes, Vega?" He stuttered.
  "Do you...uh, y'know." Backhand fumbled to undo the button on her jeans. "You can, if you'd like." She finished awkwardly.
  No sooner had she given him permission than Danse was pulling her hand out of his pants, urging her backwards onto her bed even as he kissed her battered knuckles again. "Yes." He grated out, kneeling to untie her boots so he could get her pants off. "Yes, yes, a thousand times yes."
  "A for enthusiasm, big guy." Elizabeth teased, lazily fingercombing his short hair back. Her veneer of composure was shattered when the paladin eased her underwear down her legs, the young woman covering her face as if she was embarrassed. "Listen, just uh, go easy on me. It's been over two hundred years, after all." She reasoned weakly.
  Danse swallowed hard. Cutler had always praised his dirty talk, the calculated way he could take apart a person with his words and touch alone. Maxson hadn't appreciated his speech, granted, but perhaps…
  "You're saying you don't want me to bury my fingers in you, Elizabeth? You don't want me to open you up, work my way into that beautiful, flushed little cunt of yours?" Danse rasped, two fingers tracing lightly on her pubic mound. Her cesarean scar was faintly visible, and he felt a brief flare of concern before recalling that was indeed where the scar was from.
  "Oh, Jesus. Okay." Vega gasped, blue eyes wide in what Danse could only assume was shock. "Keep that up and you won't have to worry about using anything else. Fuck, Danse, have some pity here." She pleaded, burying her hands in her hair. 
  "Language. Do you deserve my pity? How would you earn it?" The paladin queried, the heel of his hand applying steady pressure to her mound now. 
  "I can be good, Paladin! I can be really good. So good." Her breathless use of his title had Danse's cock pounding, though he tried not to make it obvious. "Please Danse, please touch me…"
  Danse climbed up onto the bed alongside her, gently parting her labia with his fingers. "You'll be good for me, Elizabeth?" He asked, propping himself up with an elbow.
  "Yes, please."
  She had wonderful manners. Danse grazed her clit and her breath stuttered, the paladin spreading the liberal lubrication that she had already created with deft, slow strokes of his index. "Please, what?"
  "P-Please...Danse."
  He cautiously eased one finger into her, exhaling raggedly when her hand sought out his cock. "Vega-"
  "Shh, let me." Elizabeth hushed him, her smile a little dreamy as Danse crooked his finger and rubbed in just the right spot. "Oh, f-uck, Paladin, you--"
  "Language, Vega. Can't have you being a bad example while I'm knuckle deep in your cunt." Danse admonished, groaning when she whimpered. "You're so tight, this could take ages. We'll need to come up with some stretches to cope with this." He teased gruffly, sliding in another finger and spreading her open. "Mm, Elizabeth, you need to relax. Relax." He murmured, latching onto her breast.
  He felt her pussy clench down around his fingers and he took a greedy suckle from her breast, making Vega cry out his name, "Danse!" She twitched and writhed under his deft attack, her thighs quivering even as she tried to spread them wider for him. Her hand fell still on his cock, not that Danse minded. It had always been more about his partner, he couldn't care less if nothing was done for him. Watching someone else fall apart because of him...now that was its own reward.
  "What do I need to do to get you there, hmm?" Danse taunted playfully, tonguing sloppily over the peak of her breast. "What will it take, Elizabeth?"
  She arched her back in response, pressing her breast firmly against his mouth, and Danse gently nibbled on the sensitive area she had offered up. Elizabeth sobbed out, shoving one hand down to her cunt to spread herself even wider for his plundering fingers. "More, Danse! Please please please-" she begged, her moan when he pressed a third finger into her absolutely enough to have Danse hurrying to talk himself down. "Yes, Danse." She was practically growling, her arousal something primal and untamed. 
  If Danse had his way, it would stay like that forever. 
  "What is it that you want, Vega?" His inquiry was almost lazy, three fingers stroking in and out with much less resistance now. "Hmm, I wonder if you're wet enough to take me."
  "You can't just-" Vega made a noise of dismay. "That's not fair, Danse, that's not fair, you know it's not. Please, please fuck me." 
  Jesus. Danse almost choked on his own breath, letting his fingers slip out of her cunt. "How do you want me?" His voice broke noticeably. It felt like a lifetime since he had been desired, wanted in such a blatant and strangely pure fashion. She loved him. She wanted him inside her. Wanted him to make love to her. Wanted him.
  The speed at which she flung herself up a little higher on the bed made Danse want to laugh, but then she was arching her back and looking over her shoulder at him and he suddenly forgot how to breathe for a moment. "This okay?" She panted, brown hair all tumbled around her face as she took off her glasses and pitched them in the general direction of her bedside table.
  Danse nodded hurriedly, kicking his pants off. "If you need me to stop, just grab my hand." He instructed.
  "This isn't exactly my first time getting fucked, Danse-"
  "Language," the paladin reprimanded her with a chuckle, greedily fondling her rear as he mounted up behind her. "You have such a beautiful form, Vega." He murmured, leaning over to press a kiss between her shoulder blades. "An absolute vision."
  "I do have nice tits." 
  Danse rolled his eyes, slipping his hands down to grope said breasts. She gasped out, rocking back against him as he agreed, "yes you do, that can't be denied. Soft, the perfect size, they fit in my hands so well, and so sensitive." He found himself laughing when she whimpered again. "Don't offer up all your weak spots unless you want them taken advantage of, Vega."
  "The only thing I want to take advantage of right now is the raging hard-on I can feel." Elizabeth wriggled and Danse grunted, shuddering. "Pl-ease Danse, please put it in me."
  The paladin slipped his cock between her labia, the hot, slick flesh pressing against him mercilessly as he teased her. He suddenly felt her fingers on his cock and then-
  "Fuck." The paladin grated out the uncharacteristic curse through his teeth, his fists meeting the bedding on either side of her body as he fought the urge to thrust himself home in one breath.
  Elizabeth half-collapsed while he slowly, slowly rutted into her, the woman panting and clawing at the blankets. "Mmmgod, Danse-" she slurred, sighing loudly. "So good, fuck, Danse…"
  Danse toyed with her nipples, stupidly snarling "language," as she keened in reply. "I'll take care of you, Elizabeth. Be good for me." He pressed a kiss to her temple, smirking at the way her body quaked when he finally bottomed out in her. "That's it, look at you, taking all of me so well," he praised. "Now, how can I make you come?"
  "Fu--Please use your big cock to get me off, oh please Danse!" She begged and Danse fondled her breasts yet again.
  "You don't want me to touch you here, just like this?" He asked, stroking over her nipples and lingering to tease the area. "They're so hard, though, begging for my attention."
  Backhand made a noise of despair, burying her face in her pillow. 
  "I think you need me to play with them, don't you? You like when I touch them like this." Danse muttered, thinking out loud and coming to that realization even as the words left his mouth. "What is it about it that you like?"
  "S-Sensitive." Vega whimpered, "feels good."
  Danse rumbled again, bending over to press his chest to her back so he could whisper in her ear, "does it feel good when I'm inside you, Elizabeth? Can you feel how hard I am for you? Feel how badly I need you?" 
  Elizabeth gifted him this pitiful sound, canting her hips and clenching down around his cock so tightly it took Danse's breath away. "Yes, I love it. I need you too, Danse." She murmured, shifting back and forth ever so slightly.
  "Good. I'm glad." Danse took hold of her hips, seating his cock as deeply as he could in her cunt. Elizabeth whined, burying her face in her pillow again as he slowly began to make love to her. 
  Paladin Logan Danse, pride of the Brotherhood of Steel, had never been a man who took sex lightly. It was too important. Even after everything that had happened with Maxson, Danse still held to that belief. The display of vulnerability, the offer of power in exchange for pleasurable release, the brief moments of tenderness in an existence that was soul-crushingly difficult…
  It was serious. It always was. 
  Vega's arms gave out and she slumped onto the bed, but Danse followed her down. Covering her with his body, the paladin thrust into her again and again, her soft whimpers and cries of his name music to his ears. "What do you need, sweetheart?" He asked raggedly when she began to squirm and arch back against him. "What can I give you, Elizabeth?"
  "Fuck me, Danse!" She pleaded, turning her head to the side so she could see him. 
  "Language," Danse smiled, kissing her temple again. "But understood, ma'am."
  …
  For the first time since she'd awoken to an irradiated hellscape, Vega was wholly content to just lay down and be taken care of. 
  Danse was huge, proportionate to his already overgrown size, and he made the most incredible sounds when she inadvertently squeezed down on him. Groans burring in his chest like some untamed animal; he seemed content to just slowly fuck her into oblivion. Which was honestly more than she thought she would ever get. 
  Her fantasies, much as she'd believed they were wrong or silly at the time, didn't hold a candle to the reality of having Danse on top of her. She had gotten off more than once to this exact idea, being dominated and pinned by the massive paladin. This was a dream come true.
  Elizabeth whined when he bottomed out in her again and just rutted himself back and forth slightly, making her feel every inch of his cock. The underside of his dick throbbed against the spot that made her see stars and then, the bastard, he slid his cock out of her cunt to press the head to her clit for a second. "Turn over for me?" He requested, punctuated by a gentle smack to her ass.
  Vega rushed to obey, eager to have him back inside her as quickly as possible. The woman spread her legs wide so Danse could settle in between them and when the paladin did, he shifted upwards to kiss her tenderly. 
  "I've wanted this for so long." He admitted quietly.
  "So have I!" Elizabeth replied in delight, her grin beaming. She was sure she looked like a mess, her hair stuck to her forehead with sweat and her face all flushed. But the way Danse was smiling at her…
  She found she didn't really care about her appearance at this point in time.
  "I love you." Danse murmured as he slid back inside her. 
  "I l-love you, Danse." Vega stuttered, the natural curvature of his cock applying steady pressure to her g-spot. "Make me feel so good, fuck."
  "Language." He growled, making her laugh and then moan. 
  "Feels too good, brain can't cope." She gasped, wrapping her arms around his neck and tugging him closer until all he could do was grind down into her in a merciless manner. The motion flung her towards her peak, disconnecting her mouth even further from her brain and making her ramble into his ear, "God, I love you so much, make me feel so good--"
  "I love you too, Elizabeth." He panted into the hollow of her throat, "you feel incredible. Outstanding."
  Elizabeth wasn't sure how she could feel both so aroused she thought she might die and so annoyed that she wanted to explode. "Danse, did you just call my pussy outstanding?"
  "It's not an incorrect statement, from my perspective. It's perfect. Wet and tight and hot." The paladin praised her freely, a hand lowering to apply gentle pressure over the scar on her lower stomach. "Beautiful."
  I am not going to cry, Vega told herself sternly as she hid her face in Danse's neck. Definitely not going to cry, not going to.
  A sob somehow escaped her as she came and Danse froze, his whole body flinching when her cunt clenched down on his dick. "V...Vega?" He asked tentatively.
  "I'm fine! I'm fine, I promise, m'not hurt or anything. My brain is just dumb." Elizabeth hiccupped, rubbing her eyes. "I'm okay, Danse, I'm fine."
  The paladin seemed uncertain and she couldn't blame him, she didn't seem fine even if she felt a thousand times better than she had in literal months. 
  "I swear I'm okay, that was just...it was really intense, y'know?" She mumbled awkwardly, unable to make eye contact anymore. 
  She felt Danse shift his weight and then he settled down on top of her, holding her close and tight. "You're sure?" He murmured, "if you're overwhelmed, that's entirely acceptable. I'm not hurting you, am I?"
  "No, shit no, you feel incredible. I'm not going to be able to walk after this." Vega huffed, giggling a little when he rolled his eyes. "Keep going, okay? It feels fantastic."
  "If you're certain." Danse acquiesced, kissing a hot trail down her neck when she nodded. "Let me know if you need me to stop." 
  Watching his forearms cord with muscle as he propped himself back up again, Vega's mouth went dry. "I have to say, this might be the best night of my life." 
  Danse pressed a sweet kiss to her forehead, the tenderness of the action a wonderful contrast to the needy way he sheathed his cock in her body once more. "I've thought about this." He confessed again, punctuated by a roll of his hips. "What you'd sound like, look like beneath me. You put my imagination to shame." 
  "What did I do in your dreams?" Backhand asked, unable to keep from breathlessly laughing when Danse hid his face in her neck. "So shy, Paladin! Even with that huge cock in me?"
  "It's lewd, Elizabeth, I-I'm not proud of it." He mumbled. "Shouldn't have thought of you that way." He spread her legs wider, one hand on the back of each knee to urge her to bend. 
  "Mm, you thought about fucking me? Nice to know I'm not the only one with dirty thoughts." 
  "I did not." He protested staunchly. His cock slid back and forth between her pussy lips in a purposeful teasing motion. "I thought about how...I thought about how good it would feel to make love to you." He continued, his voice wavering slightly as his dick brushed her entrance and he plunged deep yet again. "Thought about how good I could make you feel."
  Now it was Vega's turn to be shy, the woman looking away from him and flushing.
  "It was still inappropriate at the...time, but I assure you it was never about that. I am not-" Danse struggled for a moment to find the words, before he sighed and rested his forehead against her own. "This already isn't simple, and I know I make it miles less so. Forgive me."
  "I feel like it's pretty simple." Vega gasped, twitching as his fingers landed on her clit. "I f--fuck, Danse--I feel like it's real simple. You like me. Love me, yeah?"
  "It's more than that, dammit." Danse growled, rubbing her clit in merciless circles. "What you did for me...how can I ever be worth your affection? Hell, your time?"
  Elizabeth threw her head back, arching her entire body up into his chest. "Whatever good I give to you," she moaned, almost exasperated that they were even having this discussion, "you deserve it. Take it." 
  Danse's hands latched down on her hips, thumbs stroking back and forth over her pronounced stretch marks as he fucked into her so fiercely that Vega swore she saw stars. His pelvis ground against her own, body hair providing a delicious new sensation that had Vega grasping at the blankets in an effort to keep herself grounded. "I'm going to come, Elizabeth." Danse panted. "Where do you-"
  "Inside." Backhand implored him, "come inside me, Paladin, please come inside me-" Her voice broke as she begged and Danse groaned loud, the sound incredulous.
  "You...inside? Are you sure?" He asked through gritted teeth, dark brown eyes conveying his uncertainty. In reply, Vega dug the heels of her feet in beneath his rear, effectively locking him in place. 
  She caught a handful of his hair, gently tugging it until he leaned down again so she could seethe in his ear, "yes."
  "Oh, dammit." With that wonderfully characteristic swear, Danse shoved his mouth against hers gracelessly. The heat in her belly spilled over from the onslaught of his enthusiastic thrusts and Backhand cried out, fingernails digging into his back when she came a second time. 
  Danse, either spurred on by her sounds or by the way her pussy gripped his dick (maybe a combination? Backhand mused) found his release seconds after, his voice breaking and dropping into a lower tone as he moaned her name. Her real name.
  Elizabeth.
  Vega cupped the nape of his neck, guiding his face into the hollow of her shoulder. "Lay down, sweetheart, you're shaking." She murmured, stroking over his quivering back.
  "Don't want to flatten you." Danse rasped, his dick still throbbing inside her.
  "Lay down. It's okay." Elizabeth flexed her bicep. "I'm strong, I can handle it." Danse laughed wearily, almost immediately going limp on top of her. She wrapped her arms back around him, fingers digging into the knots that she found to ease out the tension. "There, isn't that better?"
  "Mmmmuch." Danse slurred into her neck, sounding exhausted. "Love you."
  "I love you. Sleep, okay? We'll get cleaned up later. Right now though you seem like you could use a nap."
  Danse nodded, the tangled mess of his hair mashed flat against her cheek in the process. "Want...to be a good parent." He mumbled several minutes later, just as Vega had thought he was dozing off. Danse propped himself up with one arm, cradling Vega's cheek in his palm. His thumb absently traced the cryo burn marks from the stasis as he continued, "a true partner for you. I don't know if you...if you even want me in that capacity, I--I don't know whether you would prefer that Shaun thinks of me as simply your friend, but I-"
  "Danse," Elizabeth interrupted him sternly, raising an eyebrow. "Someone who's simply a friend wouldn't be balls deep in me."
  Danse sputtered, his blush spreading down his neck to his chest. Despite his proclivity for dirty talk in the moment, he was endearingly embarrassed by her blunt words. Vega felt her heart pound as he floundered to collect himself, the large man looking away. 
  He's really nothing at all like Nate.
  "Danse." Her voice was gentler this time, unmistakable affection bleeding through. "I would have to ask Shaun, of course, and I'd like to have an adjustment period before I do so that he can get comfortable with the idea on his own, but…" The young woman swallowed hard. Why was she so nervous all of a sudden? Oh sure, she could handle the vulnerability of being naked and fucked with absolute abandon but this? This was where her brain drew the line? Unbelievable, Backhand grumbled at herself. "I think the odds are in your favor." She concluded with a grin.
  "You...even though I'm not-?"
  "He's probably the last person to care about that kinda' stuff, Danse. C'mon." Vega chided, running her fingers through his sweaty hair. "Now. We are...absolutely disgusting. We need a bath big time."
  "I...you're right, of course." Danse agreed absently, still seeming shocked at the whole scenario. "I should...w-we should bathe. Er, at the same time. To save water." He didn't meet her eyes, his attention focused somewhere by her left shoulder. 
  Elizabeth laughed, bumping their foreheads together before carefully scooting up the bed. His cock slipped out of her and she couldn't help her sigh, the noise echoed by the paladin who tilted his chin to catch her with a kiss.
  "You are amazing." He breathed when they parted, his smile small but sincere. "I'm...I'll be hard-pressed to keep my hands off you, Elizabeth."
  "Why bother?" Vega asked, chuckling as he ducked back in for another kiss. 
  ...
  Hours later, Danse laid awake while Elizabeth slept peacefully on his chest. The paladin stared up at the ceiling, his mind running rampant.
  The future.
  He hadn't really dared to think about it since discovering his true identity. Hadn't felt like it was something he deserved. After all, if he was just a machine, it hardly mattered. But Elizabeth…
  She thought it mattered. She wanted him. Wanted him to stay with her. Wanted him to act as a father. Pending Shaun's approval, of course. 
  It was surreal how much his life had changed, how far they had come in such a short amount of time. Danse was a little overwhelmed by it all, if he was being honest. Scared, yet hopeful at the same time. And, he thought as he wrapped his arm around Elizabeth, incredibly, immensely grateful.
  This new world was unforgiving, the universe coldly testing the mettle of a man time and again. But Danse had finally come out the other side, and he liked to think he had changed for the better. 
  Whatever the future held, they would face it together. 
  Ad Victoriam, General Vega. Thank you for having faith in me.
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tanzaniiite · 4 years
Text
05. A Mess
protective [nishinoya yuu x fem!reader]
warnings: being drunk & vomiting
word count: 1.5k
a/n: whattt? a written chapter in a smau?? it’s more likely than you think, enjoy! 😚
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Dealing with a drunk Noya was always a struggle.
Yes, you’ve been to several parties with him and even though his drunk antics never failed to put a smile on your face… you did hate the clean up portion of things. Most people became a certain type of way when they were drunk. Y’know the typical; elated, depressed, emotional, flirty, quiet and loud drunks. Yuu was a combination of emotional and loud. The loud portion wasn’t the issue because Nishinoya was naturally loud. The issue was the emotional portion. He became uncharacteristically clingy and very talkative. His favorite topic of conversation was telling the person closest to him how much he loved them. Although it was endearing at first it can get real annoying, real fast. But then again, you were used to drunk Nishinoya whereas Kenma was not.
“H-h-h-heyyy Y/n! Did youuuu know–“ Noya slurred, poking your arm, “– that I love you sooo much” He claimed, giving you a drunken smile. You smiled slightly and patted his head as he snuggled into your side. “Yes Yuu, I know. I love you too” You replied, making eye contact with Kenma through the rear-view mirror. He gave you a tired look that you returned with a sheepish smile. “Sorry” You mouthed, continuing you to pet Noya’s head softly.
The plan was originally to just lay Nishinoya on the backseat and you were going to sit in the front with Kenma. But Yuu insisted that you sit in the back with him and proceeded to cry when you tried to sit in the front. The blonde just shook his head before focusing his eyes back on the road.
“Your friend is a mess”
He deadpanned, glancing at the GPS that had Nishinoya’s address inputted in it. Before you could even respond, Noya shot up, successfully hitting your chin in the process. “Ow..” You muttered, feeling your mouth fill with a metallic-like taste. “I-I’m not a mess! Mayyybe you’re the mess! Yeah, you’re the mess” Yuu huffed, crossing his arms like a two year old that didn’t get their way. Kenma sighed inwardly, “Sure buddy” He responded, not really paying your drunk friend any mind. You, on the other hand, were quietly suffering with your now-sore tongue.
“How long till we get there?” You asked, trying not to irritate your tongue too much. “About 10 minutes.. you staying with him or do you want me to drive you home?” Kenma asked. You contemplated on that for a bit, you were going to just get him into bed and then head home but with how clingy he was now that wouldn’t be easy. Plus you’ve spent the night with Noya plenty times before, what’s one more? “Uh, I’ll stay with him. I’ll just head home in the morning” You answered. Kenma raised an eyebrow at you, “Really? Even after he drunkenly confessed to you?” He asked, genuinely curious. You looked down at Yuu who was fast asleep on your lap. “Yeah, he’s still my best friend. I don’t want him choking on his own throw up or going through a massive hangover by himself,” You looked at Kenma through the rear-view mirror again, “I’ll be fine” You stated, confirming his real suspicion.
“If you say so”
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Golden light streamed through the windows causing Noya to groan loudly. Opening his eyes blearily, he quickly closed them back due to sunlight being directed right in his eyes. Rolling over to get away from the brightness, Yuu squeaked as he was met face to face with a sleeping you. For a moment, he thought he was hallucinating. You could have hangover hallucinations, right? But that crazy theory went out the window when he saw your nose twitch in the cutest way possible. As he looked you over, you were in the same clothes that you were in last night. He furrowed his eyebrows, wondering why you didn’t just wear one of his shirts.
Then it dawned on him that you were suppose to be at the party with Oikawa, so why were you here with him? Did something happen? All his memories from last night were incredibly hazy and trying to remember made his throbbing headache even worse. So he decided to let it go for now. Sitting up slowly, trying to be courteous of your sleeping form, Noya noticed he was in nothing but his boxers. …why the hell was he only in his boxers? Did you guys… no because your clothes were still on. Wait! What if you guys.. dry humped or something? He remembers a classmate saying that they did something like that once in a drunken stupor.
Noya shook his head to dispel those thoughts. You were dating Oikawa and you didn’t even see him in that way, of course nothing happened. No matter how badly he wanted it things to be different. Letting out a dejected sigh, Yuu got up and stretched while heading over to the blinds to shut out the sun.
“Morning sleeping beauty”
The short man jumped, startled, quickly turned to face you. His heart got caught in his throat as you looked up at him from your spot on his bed. Man, he had it bad. “Hey bestie” He chirped, forcing a smile. He would have to wallow in sorrow about his one-sided crush another time. You giggled and sat up, stretching your arms as you did so. “You’re awfully chipper for someone with a hangover” You acknowledged, nodding towards his desk, that had a cup of water and aspirin. Noya gave you a sheepish smile and took the aspirin. Sitting next to you, he leaned his head on your shoulder.
“You’re a life saver”
“I know, what would you do without me?”
‘I have absolutely no idea’ He thought, fiddling with his fingers. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence, you were checking your phone and Yuu couldn’t help but notice the look of distress on your face. “You okay?” He asked, looking at you. You shut your phone off and tossed it to the side, nodding slightly. “Okay, here’s a question I’ve been dying to ask: why am I in my boxers?” He inquired. He watched you grimace before answering, “When Kenma dropped us off, you threw up by the entrance of the dorms. It got all over your clothes” You responded, looking very disgusted.
Noya looked just as disgusted, if not, more so. “Ugh, sorry about that” He apologized. You waved your hand dismissively, “It’s fine, this isn’t my first time taking care of you and it won’t be the last. Just don’t throw up on me, ‘kay?” You proposed, holding out your pinky to him. “I’ll try my best” He promised, locking his pinky with yours. Looking around the small dorm he noticed Tanaka wasn’t here, “Did Tanaka come back last night?” He asked.
You shook your head, “No, but I think he’s with your friends Daichi and Sugawara” You replied. Nishinoya’s blushed a bit at what he was about to ask next, “So, uh, so why did you sleep with me? Y’know.. instead of in Tanaka’s bed?” He inquired, desperately trying to cool his flushed cheeks. But you didn’t even seem to notice as you started laughing. “Because you wouldn’t let me go, I think you’ve forgotten how clingy you get when your drunk Nishi” You explained, still laughing.
Now Noya couldn’t tell if he was blushing from embarrassment or the cute nickname you gave him that was solely used by yourself. Suddenly a bunch of ping!’s erupted from your phone, you picked it up and looked at the messages. Catching a quick glimpse at your phone, he noticed they were all from Oikawa. Yuu frowned slightly, ‘Possessive much?’ He thought. But he quickly dropped the frown as you turned back to him. “I should get going.. Oikawa’s getting worried” You explained, getting up from his bed.
“It’s only 10:53, it’s still early. Don’t you want breakfast or something?” He asked, he really didn’t want you to leave. You shook your head slightly, “No, I’m good. I’ll eat later” You declined, putting your shoes on. Noya got up and scrambled to find some clothes, “Well at least let me walk you back to your dorm. Nobody’s out this early, it could be dangerous”. You chuckled softly and placed a hand on Yuu’s shoulder. “Nishi, I appreciate the concern, but I’ll be alright. My dorm isn’t that far from yours. Plus you have a hangover and need to rest” You say, pushing Noya back on his bed. “But–“ He started. You hugged him and Nishinoya prayed that you couldn’t feel his rapid heartbeat. He restrained pulling you back to him as you pulled away.
“I’ll text you the minute I get home, okay?”
“Okay”
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