#fallout 4 ao3

[mel-kusanagi]

so i watched fallout because of these two, here's a wip 🙆‍♀️

[andstillwestand]

I know that Nick's whole personal mission to kill Eddie Winter kinda gets glossed over in the game and Nick's emotions regarding everything he's been through are only lightly touched on, but y'all best believe that Nick and his thoughts/feelings on everything are gonna get MESSY in my fic.

Nick woke up in the fucking garbage and throughout the game we see him be- (what I would refer to as) -passively suicidal and have some very deep-rooted self-esteem issues. He doesn't see himself as a person, he doesn't really stand up for himself- (aside from a snarky comeback here and there) -when other characters treat him like shit, he is CONSTANTLY throwing himself into extremely dangerous situations to help people without any care to whether or not he'll come out of it in one piece, he refers to himself almost exclusively using insults, he asks the PC if his face is really the last one they want to see, etc. etc.

Nick literally sees himself as some shitty knockoff of the "real" Nick Valentine, a pretender, a ghost, and like...that's gotta fuck him up a little---especially given that he thinks the Institute, the people who made him, just tossed him in the trash. He thinks that he's unwanted and about half of the Commonwealth just reinforces that based on the fact that he's a synth, there's no fucking way that this man is well adjusted in the slightest.

Not to mention the fact that he REMEMBERS BEING the original Nick Valentine, he has all these memories and flashes of things that happened to him, but it’s NOT him and he knows that logically, but it’s shown to all sort-of bleed together for him- (we see this in his personal mission when he goes back and forth between calling Jennifer “Nick’s fiancée” and “my fiancée”) -and that’s got to be so confusing and fucked up for him, because he can’t tell where Nick Valentine ends and he begins!

Who is he without the memories of some prewar detective plugged into his brain? How much of his personality is his and how much of it is “stolen?” Would he still be himself without the echos of the original Nick Valentine knocking around in his skull? He doesn’t have the answers to any of these questions and I think that should fuck him up SEVERELY!

I think he should be angry and confused and depressed, and I think he should get to work through all of that—and DAMN IT HE WILL, BUT ITS GONNA GET WORSE BEFORE IT GETS BETTER!

[lilacretrograde]

Please continue this trend, the content is fire 🔥

[cat-shepard]

Art I drew after reading this fic!!! @wastelandbfs @oraeliaa thanks for the inspo on your story!!!

[deathclaw-for-cutie]

Earlier this year (2024), I found this video while idly scrolling through YouTube. I watched it over and over, fascinated. I finally decided to look on AO3, a site I knew about but had never visited.

I discovered "para bellum" by @lilacretrograde. I discovered "Wrong Kind of Preacher, Wrong Kind of Church" and "Call Me Angel Again" by @odd-ball-out. "White Lies and Fireflies" by @aviatorfics. So many more, but these are the first ones, the ones I remember the best, the ones that made me finally understand the phrase "reading this changed my brain chemistry."

After a childhood spent writing and drawing (original things as well as what would now be called fanfiction and fanart), I hadn't done any writing at all in years. I hadn't drawn anything in years. Decades.

I started writing "Cat in a Hot Tin Suit". I came back to Tumblr, and found @hpysprkl and @lordsammichsilas and @hancocksbestgirl and so, so many others.

After literal decades of nothing, I've been writing almost every single day since late June. At least a few hundred words, sometimes thousands. I've started drawing again.

I started posting my silly, self-indulgent, self-insert fanfic, and to my complete and utter shock, other people actually liked it. Knowing that people have bookmarked it, have subscribed to it, is terrifying, humbling, and invigorating.

Your stories, your art, inspired me to get back to who I was before I shut myself away years ago. Rediscovering my creativity has brought me so much joy, so much pride in my own accomplishments, and brought people into my life that I never would have met otherwise (okay also the Halloween Boop Wars of 2024, but mostly the art).

So...yeah. Fallout brought me back to life. You all brought me back to life. Thank you. Love you.

xoxo

Izzie

[woods-and-adlers-left-hand-dude]

I NEED FALLOUT 4 MODS FOR BUILDING STUFF PLEASEEEEEEE,

I played fallout ages ago and I'm playing through it again and I just want to make my own little houses and stuff in settlements so I can bring the companies back to it(mostly Hancock and valantine) like different walls and stuff or door frames and floors,so please surgest mods and there names for xbox in the comments

[roystory4]

the lukowski matter 🩸🩸🩸

The good news is that Kingsport is in far better condition than anyone expected after two centuries of neglect and more than a few eccentric tenants. The bad news is that Tua Holloway’s new neighbor is at the center of an investigation involving a missing Vault trader and a missing synth detective. The whole affair has her wondering if it’s really worth leaving the city… or if the country is no safer for themself and their new family. A retelling of the incident at Longneck Lukowski’s Cannery, with a couple of artistic liberties.

read it here!

[tell-me-a-tale-that-tells]

Rubber Toys & Fun

+18 if you're a minor do not read this

┌──────── ∘°❉°∘ ────────┐

Summary: Hancock and Reader find an old toy factory, and they find something unexpected. Warnings: explicit sexual content, explicit language, toy kink.

└──────── °∘❉∘° ────────┘

You are walking for hours, your feet are hurting so badly that you fear they're bleeding.

At your side, your companion Hancock continues to sigh, clearly tired as you are.

A large building reveals itself from between the debris of two big skyscrapers.

The Insignia says "Rub__er Toy_ & F_n", it's a rusty mess, and some letters missing.

It seems safe enough, empty even, with no Raiders or supermutants in sight.

You enter and the nauseating smell of burned rubber attacks your nose, John however doesn't seem bothered and you envy his lack of smell.

"What the hell was this place?" You ask, trying to open a closed door.

Hancock rummages through some desks in the Hall before finding a working terminal, "They produced rubber toys, you know...rubber ducks, squeaky toys for dogs and all those sorts of things"

"That's why this place is empty" you murmur, "There's nothing of value here"

"At least we have a place to rest for a bit" Hancock adds.

You manage to open that door, revealing a big room with machinery for mass production.

On the conveyor belts, there are ducks of all shapes and colours, toy aliens and other everyday objects.

You wander into the dusty old factory, John following you.

As you enter the farthest area which looks like a dedicated shipping area, there are trucks parked in long rows and crates upon crates of goods ready to be shipped.

Hancock forces open one of them, with a big red X on one side, and he whistles and laughs, "What?" You ask.

"Well, this is unexpected" he giggled, "Come and see"

You approach him, and he looks into some opened crates  Inside them, there was a rich assortment of sex toys, from dildos to vibrators and cock rings and many more.

You blush vigorously and step away.

"Uh... hehe...well, that's... nice...but useless" you stammer.

Hancock can't help but laugh, "Useless? We could use some of these!" he smiles.

"Imagine all the fun we could have!" You look at him, disbelief in your eyes.

"Hancock..." you say, shaking your head "We don't have time for that..."

"Oh come on!" he insists, holding up a large strap-on dildo.

You sigh, heavily.

"Look, we need to find food, water...things like that. Not toys for our... private time." You take a deep breath, trying to keep your cool.

You can't help but feel a stirring between your legs as you think about the possibility of using those toys, it would be nice to have some release but the thought seems so absurd that you try to repress it.

John looks at you with the most incredible puppy eyes an adult ghoulified man could ever manage to do.

You take a deep breath, trying to ignore the growing wetness between your legs.

"Goddammit...alright! Take the ones you like most, don't take everything. We need to travel light." 

Hancock looks at you, a playful grin on his face. "Alright, you're the boss." He takes a few items, and you don't dare to look at what he chooses. "These'll do fine for now." 

You turn around, trying to ignore the heat in your cheeks. The last thing you need is for him to know how turned on you are right now.

For a brief moment, your mind drifted away to the lewd image of Hancock squirming on a large dildo.

Fuck.

As much as you try to deny It to yourself, you like John. He's smart, he's reckless and passional, he loves to help people without asking for something in return and he has a charm that's hard to resist.

His look doesn't bother you at all, you find him oddly fascinating, handsome even.

You are so gone for him.

Exploring the factory a bit more you find a room with a few mattresses scattered around. It looks like it might be used as a shelter for the factory workers or someone else in the past centuries.

You head over to them and start pushing some debris aside to clear a space for you and Hancock to sleep.

"We should take turns on watch," You say to him.

Hancock nods in agreement. "I'll take the first watch, you get some rest." He says, looking around the room. "There's not much activity in this area, but I'll keep an eye out for anything suspicious."

You lie down on one of the beds, trying to ignore the discomfort of the old mattress. The room is silent except for the sound of your breathing and the occasional creak of rusty springs as Hancock shifts his weight.

Eventually, you drift off to sleep. 

Your dreams are filled with images of the world before the apocalypse: people laughing, cars driving, stores filled with food, your old job and colleagues. You find yourself missing those simple things.

Suddenly, you are awoken by the sound of something.

It's not loud, but it's definitely not normal. You sit up, looking around the dark room, your eyes adapting to the scarce light, trying to figure out where it's coming from.

That's when you notice Hancock, his pants around his ankles. He's grunting and moaning softly as he thrusts his hips.

His hand is wrapped around his cock, stroking it furiously, and a wet sound fills the air with each thrust.

He's obviously jerking off.

You blush, feeling embarrassed and aroused at the same time.

Clearing your throat, you try to get Hancock's attention. "Uhm...Ehm... John?" you call him.

Hancock jumps at the sound of your voice, his hand going to hide something in his bag. He looks around wildly, then sees you sitting up on the bed. "Oh, uh... hey," he says sheepishly. "I didn't mean to wake you." 

You blush even deeper. "It's... it's alright," you manage to say. "I just... thought I should let you know I believe it's my turn to watch now." You try to sound casual, but you're not sure if you succeed.

You could set fire to the damn mattress.

Hancock nods, taking a deep breath. "Right. Yeah. Of course." He pulls up his pants, wincing as the movement causes his cock to brush against his clothes "Sorry about that. I guess I got a little...uhm carried away."

You can't help but be curious about what he hid. If he was not using his hand, what was he using?

"Uhm, no worries...does that feel good? What you were...using?" you ask, trying to sound normal about It.

It's Hancock's turn to blush.

"Well, I found this..." he says, holding up a fleshlight. "I didn't know what it was at first, but I figured it out pretty quick." He looks sheepish again. "It feels good, yeah."

You nod, unable to hide your interest any longer. "Do you..." You clear your throat. "Do you want to... show it to me?" You ask, your voice barely above a whisper. 

You know what a fleshlight is, even if you haven't ever seen one up close.

Hancock looks at you, surprise flickering across his features. "Uh... sure?" he says hesitantly.

He hands you the fleshlight, unsure of what to expect.

Taking it from him, you inspect it closely. It's soft and pliable, and filled with some sort of lubricant.

You hand it back to him, giving him a shy smile. "Why... don't you show me?"

The question slips from your brain to your mouth and you curse to yourself, that's not something you should ask a friend.

Hancock's eyes go wide and for a moment you fear he could push you away and simply insult you.

Then takes the fleshlight back, nodding.

He unfastens his pants again, letting out a content sight as he frees himself from the confinement of his now damp thigh underwear.

You can't take your eyes away from his length, even in the dim light of your Pip-boy, you see the size of it.

It's stupidly thick, not very long and scarred like the rest of his skin, and a part of your brain asks if that means he feels less or more than normal.

John positions the fleshlight over his cock, guiding it slowly onto his shaft. There's a wet, sucking sound as it seals around him, and he lets out a moan of pleasure. "Like that," he whispers, beginning to thrust up and down.

You watch, mesmerized by the sight of him using it. The fleshlight is designed to mimic the feel of a tight pussy, and it seems to be doing it wonderfully.

Hancock's hips move faster now, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Fuck, that feels good," he mutters.

He looks over at you with glassy eyes "God, I wish..." His voice trails off as he bit his lip.

You decide to encourage him, to see where this goes. "Tell me what you wish," you whisper, reaching for his cheek and caressing it.

Hancock looks down, squeezing his eyes shut "I wish this was you" he confesses. 

Your heart skips more than a bit, and you swallow hard, maybe your ears are playing tricks on you, "You want it to be me?" You ask, incredulous.

His movements become more erratic. "God yes," he whimpers, looking at you this time. "I want to feel you around me, feel your tight..." He closes his eyes again, grinding against the fleshlight. "Oh fuck, I'm gonna... I'm gonna..."

You watch as his face contorts, his entire body tensing. "Cum for me," you whisper, your voice barely audible. "Cum in there like you would cum inside me." 

Hancock's orgasm is sudden and powerful, his entire body jerking as he cries out.

Spurt after spurt of hot cum shots into the fleshlight until it is so full of it that it runs down the edges, I drip it down his pants, leaving it slick and sticky. He collapses onto the bed, gasping for air.

After a few moments, he looks up at you. "I'm sorry," he says, both hands covering his face in shame. "I didn't mean to... to suggest anything like that."

You nod, your heart still racing from the hottest sight you ever witness, "It's okay," you say,

"It was just... a fantasy, I guess." You force a smile, trying to make it look casual. 

Hancock nods, sitting up and pulling himself together. "Well," he says, looking back at the fleshlight with guilt. "I guess I should clean this up." He stands up, awkwardly tucking himself away, and heads for a nearby bathroom.

You sit there on the bed, heart pounding in your chest, trying to make sense of what just happened. Was that real? Did he really want it to be you? And what does it mean, if he did?

As Hancock returns from the bathroom, he looks at you, his expression unreadable.

"Listen," he begins. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable back there. I shouldn't have... I mean, I don't know what I was thinking."

"It's okay, really," you say, forcing a smile. "We all have our fantasies... it's just something to make us go..." You hope the words sound convincing. "Let's just put it behind us, okay?"

Hancock nods slowly, but you can tell he's not convinced at all.

As the tension in the air begins to ease, you realize that your palms are sweaty. And the worst part? You can feel the wetness in your panties, and you're sure your pants are stained too.

You curse your body's betrayal, wishing you could make it go away. But as you sit there, you can see that Hancock has noticed as well.

His eyes flick down to your crotch, and then back up to meet yours. 

"You okay?" he asks, his voice hoarse.

"Yeah," you manage to choke out. "I'm fine."

Hancock hesitates for a moment, then moves closer to you. "You don't have to hide it," he whispers. "We've all been there."

"I...I know. This is not the right moment, tho" you lie to him.

There's something unspoken in John's eyes, you want to know what he's thinking as he sits next to you, and you understand he's asking for permission.

As his fingers slide beneath your pants and the fabric of your panties, you feel yourself trembling.

"A little help, mh?" He whispers in your ear "Like you did for me"

His touch is soft and gentle as he caresses you, you bite your lip and nod.

"It doesn't have to mean anything if you don't want it to," he says.

It feels so good, you close your eyes, unable to resist the sensations any longer.

You grasp at the lapel of his redingote, pulling him towards you, your hands slip on his cheeks as you kiss him for the first time.

You grow wetter and more needy. Your hips begin to move on their own, searching for more contact against his hand. 

"John...more. More please" you whimper.

His fingers find your clit and circle it expertly. You cry out, your body arching, but it's not enough.

"Fuck," you gasp, your head spinning, and the room seems to shift. "I need more."

He pulls away, eyes locked on yours. "Want a toy?" he asks, "Because I...took some for you..."

Your mind reels as you process what he's just said, your body, however, has already decided.

It aches for release, for something more than just his hand on you.

You nod mutely, not able to speak.

He goes to his bag, pulling out a ridged glass dildo. He hands it to you, but you shake your head.

"No," you croak out, "You use it on me." The words are out before you can stop them, and you feel a flash of embarrassment wash over you.

But the need for release is too strong, and you find yourself throwing your pride out of the window.

With rapid motions, you remove your boots and clothes and return to the mattress.

You spread your legs some more, Hancock's eyes widen in surprise, but then he smirks and takes hold of the dildo, positioning it at your entrance.

"Nice and slow, sister." He murmurs against your lips.

Slowly, he pushes it inside you, and you moan at the sensation of being filled so completely.

He begins to thrust, aiming the dildo against your G-spot with each stroke. 

"Did you take... a ridged one because...?" you say between moans. 

Your eyes meet Hancock's, and you see the amusement in his gaze. "Because, It looks a little like mine, yes" He answers as he thrusts deeper, "I guess I liked the idea of you using it"

Your body is on fire, and as he continues to fuck you with the dildo, your orgasm building. You grip the mattress, digging your nails into the fabric as you feel yourself coming undone. 

Your hips buck up, meeting his thrusts, urging him on.

You cry out, your back arches and you throw your head back. Wave after wave of ecstasy curses through your body, making you tense tight around the toy.

A hot liquid spurts from your core, coating his hand and the bed beneath you.

John watches you in awe "Yes," he groans, "Like that." 

He doesn't stop, continuing to piston the toy inside you, he pushes deeper, harder, driving you over the edge again. 

You scream his name, your body arching off the bed, the pleasure too much to bear. 

As your muscles relax, he pulls the toy free, his fingers still coated in your fluids. 

He brings his fingers to his mouth, tasting you, and a shudder runs through you at the realization of what you've just done.

Hancock's eyes meet yours for a moment, and then he leans in, pressing his lips to your folds. His tongue darts out, tasting you as he laps at your fluids. 

His tongue flicks and swirls, licking up every drop of your cum, leaving your skin slick and glistening with saliva.

"John," you gasp, the pleasure building within you once more.

"I love you," you whimper, your voice barely audible over the wet sounds he's making.

You're not entirely sure where the words come from, but as soon as they leave your lips, you feel a weight lift from your chest. 

They feel so right, like coming home from a long journey.

Hancock pauses for a moment, his eyes searching yours, he smiles, and then leans in, pressing his lips to yours in a passionate, possessive kiss. 

As he kisses you, his hand finds its way back between your legs, stroking you gently, soothingly. 

When at last you pull away, gasping for air, Hancock's eyes are still fixed on yours. 

"I love you too," he whispers, his voice hoarse and raw. "I truly do." 

"Make love to me," you whisper, your voice shaking with emotion. "Please."

Hancock's expression softens, he pulls away, sitting up on the bed, and gently guides you into his lap. 

His hands move to your hips, steadying you as he lines himself up with your entrance. John looks up at you, searching your eyes for permission. 

He pushes inside you, slowly at first, then with more force when he finds you meet his thrusts. The air is filled with the slap of flesh against flesh, of the moans and grunts of pleasure.

"Oh God, John," you moan, arching your back as he hits your sweet spot over and over again. Your nails scrape down his back, and Hancock sadly knows they won't last for long.

He leans forward, capturing one of your breasts in his mouth, sucking hungrily as he fucks you.

"Is it...like you dreamed?" You ask, your breath hot against his neck.

Hancock groans, his hips moving faster "No," he growls, "It's better. God, you feel so good. So tight." He thrusts harder, his breath coming in ragged gasps. 

You feel the familiar tightening in your abdomen, "Aah! John!" you cry out, your body tensing around him as your orgasm washes over you. 

Hancock follows close behind, his eyes rolling back in his head as he releases himself deep inside you, his hands tightening on your hips, holding you in place.

You can feel it, the warmth spreading as he fills you to the brim.

At last, he collapses forward, pressing his forehead against your shoulder and you hold him close, feeling the warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his heart against your skin. 

"Taking those sex toys wasn't a bad idea after all" you chuckle breathlessly.

Hancock, nuzzes his face into your neck. "No, it wasn't." His hands move up your back, caressing your shoulder blades. "But I don't think I'll ever need them again. Not as long as I have you."

It's romantic in some kind of way.

"Mh, not even that big vibrator?" You joke.

"Well, now that you mention it..." He grins playfully, his fingers teasing your skin. "Maybe there are one or two things I wouldn't mind trying with you." His voice lowers, becoming husky.

You smile, feeling a blush creep up your neck. "I'm sure we can." You gaze up at him, wondering if this is happening. 

It feels like a good dream, too good to be true. 

But as you look into his black eyes, you know that's more real than anything that happened in your life.

Hancock leans in, kissing you, his tongue slides against yours, and you sigh softly into his mouth.

You shift your weight and that's when you remember he's still inside you, not softening a bit.

"John..." You breathe, feeling the familiar ache beginning to build inside you once more. "I think I'm ready for round two." 

His eyes darken and he smiles, his hand moving to your hip, guiding you to lift your hips. He pulls out slowly, letting you feel the cold air on your slick skin only to pull you down fast.

"I think I can manage that," he says, grinning. 

⊱ ───── {.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.} ──── ⊰

Notes: Sorry, this wasn't very long. I wrote it in an hour while waiting for my turn at my Doctor's clinic 😅

Should I write chapter 2?

[rad-x-romance-gift-exchange]

Find yourself someone who looks at you the way The Ghoul looks at Dogmeat! Whos a good Puppo!!

16 Days until Signups for the Ghoul Romance exchange on AO3 are open!!

[emptyjunior]

One time a few years ago when I had food poisoning I was trapped in bed all day, obviously feeling terrible not wanting to move but not really able to sleep, so I read fanfiction the whole time, specifically John Hancock fallout fanfiction and I did that until I felt better.

And then like a year after that I had another stomach bug thing, and I remembered last time while I was waiting it out and looked up Hancock fanfiction again and read it again until I was better.

And I have endo, so often I have waves of nausea where I gotta just go lie down and wait it out. And to distract myself I ended up always going and reading John Hancock fanfic.

And anyways, I Just had a couple days where I was busy and missed some sleep, messed my body up a bit and got hit with a wave of dizzy/nausea, first thing I do is rush to google and open up the John Hancock ao3 tab and felt immediately better just seeing the Title Page.

And then realised what I'd done on instinct, didn't even go for the nausea pills I have in my bag, a calming tea, a water or anything😭 Just right to the Mayor of Goodneighbour, what do ya think of that pavlov😭

So anyways, thank you Mr mayor, I'm sorry I hardwired my body to associate you with illness, please keep granting me RAD immunity

[jedi-enthusiast]

Ok, I just realized something kinda hilarious since I’m bouncing between writing TGW and writing my Fallout 4 fic ‘and still, we stand’

I love writing morally grey characters, but I absolutely refuse to write morally grey characters in Star Wars, because like-

Let’s use ASWS as an example:

Arryn- (MC) -has been through a lot of trauma, so she doesn’t trust people at all and- (because of the specific trauma she suffered) -her gut reaction to most situations is violent. She hurts people, she kills people, she lies, she cheats, she always expects the worst of people…all to protect herself from ever being hurt again.

Her emotions are completely understandable, given what she’s been through, but that doesn’t mean her reactions are right.

A big part of her character development is learning that she doesn’t have to follow the “hurt others before they hurt you" way of thinking and that, when they're given the chance, most people will choose to be good. Yeah there's still jackasses and cruel people out there, this is Fallout after all, but no one expects her to be particularly optimistic or even for her to change her way of thinking all that much.

What she learns is that she doesn't need to distance herself from the people she cares about to avoid pain, she can trust people and lean on them when she needs to, and that she doesn't always need to expect the worst from people---because, more often than not, they'll surprise her if they're given the chance.

By the end of the fic, I'll be honest, Arryn doesn't necessarily change all that much---she still doesn't trust easily, she's still pessimistic, she still has a lot of baggage and unhealthy coping mechanisms...but the point is that she's grown. She's trying to be better, whatever that would look like fore her.

...

I cannot do that with Star Wars.

Because with Star Wars so many people have this idea of- "oh, this morally grey/terrible person is correct because fuck emotional control and being a decent person" -for reasons I don't understand.

If I wrote a fic, like I wanted to, about a Sith who was being trained by Dooku---but who eventually flipped sides because she started to care about the clones and, through that, started to have her views called into question---and had the Jedi try to help her to which she, due to her trauma, lashed out at them...

...an unfortunate amount of people would say that she was in the right.

They would say that she shouldn't control her emotions, that her accusations against the Jedi and Republic are valid, that she did nothing wrong during the war and her apprenticeship with Dooku.

And, personally, I don't want to have to write a fic where I'll constantly be having to write a 4k meta in the author's note section about why she is in the wrong and it is bad that she's doing what she's doing.

Which fucking sucks because, personally, I think I could do a really fucking cool story with the whole- "Sith apprentice changing sides during the war and all the drama/emotions/etc. that comes with that" -and I think I could execute it better than a lot of the people actually making content for Star Wars.

(looking at you Felony and Headland)

But, due to the lack of media comprehension and the---frankly stupid as fuck---attempts of the anti-Jedi crowd to make the Jedi out to be the "bad guys" of Star Wars, I refuse to write the fic I want.

So yeah, there's my rant of the day.

Sorry if it didn't make sense.

It's 1 am.

[andstillwestand]

Gotta love how Nick's been around Arryn so long that he's just immune to Her Bullshit™️

----------

Arryn: *tinkering with her bombs in an enclosed space*

Everyone Else: Oh shit, she's gonna fuck up and kill us all! Better leave the area before we die!

Nick: Could you at least try not to get your explosive chemicals all over my paperwork?

----------

Arryn: *says she's fine, she doesn't need to eat/sleep/etc.*

Everyone Else: She might shoot me if I argue, so I'll just let this slide/not say anything and watch the trainwreck.

Nick: Wrong, you're going to eat this bowl of noodles I got you and I will literally hold you down until you go to bed, you need sleep.

----------

Arryn: *is refusing to let anyone treat her injuries*

Everyone Else: She'll probably give me an injury if I don't leave her alone, so I guess that's what I'll do.

Nick: You don't get a choice, I'm sewing up that wound, so we can do this the easy way or the hard way.

----------

Arryn: I can handle this alone.

Everyone Else: Ok.

Nick: And theoretically I could detach my arm and beat people with it, that doesn't mean it's a good idea. I'm coming with you.

-----------

Arryn: *openly voices her self-hatred and insecurities*

Everyone Else: ...

Nick: Don't make me tap the sign

[fink0680]

Yall…. My first ever fallout filth….

Basically sad insecure Hancock x sole survivor who really just wants to love him 😭

[glupshittostan]

I’ve been writing sole/danse fics like there’s no tomorrow and I just like thinking about what each companion would be like if tasked with watching their kid. Hancock would be the cool uncle and a terrible influence.

[deathclaw-for-cutie]

I can assure you, Spellcheck, that "ghoulification" is absolutely a real and valid word.

[sassenashsworld]

Old time coming

Nothing to do with the quest

I was sharing The Red Bird on bsky and looking for my drawings on my drive

It was among my first attempts with the technic I have developed for my own style, working on a bit then melting it in the big work

This one was inspired by the end of The Path of the Private. Even if it's not a big scene, it was the emotion of Nick I was trying to show

You will say : not a big emotion

No, it was just... deception