#fallout: new california fan fiction

[b3aches]

On "The Lost Cause" by Cory Doctorow

tl;dr - The Lost Cause is an worthwhile read that provides a feeling of hope for the future. As with many novels by Cory Doctorow, it takes place in the near future and showcases one possible future.

A future where humanity is taking the drastic actions needed to manage the fallout of the climate crisis. But also a future where humanity is dealing with the backlash from the older crowd that fears change and the plutocrats that fund them.

The story is told from the point of view of Brooks Palazzo, a young adult living in Burbank California thirty years from now. The Green New Deal has passed, and he is part of the "first generation that doesn’t fear the future". He wants to make a difference in the world by joining the Blue Helmets AmeriCorps and helping to rebuild the lower half of San Juan Capistrano a mile inland.

Not everything is all rainbows and roses, however. Brook's grandfather and his Maga pals aren't huge fans of the changing world though. Neither are the plutocrats that lost out due to the GND...

You can get a copy of the ebook or audiobook directly from the author here. You can also buy the audiobook from libro.fm or get a physical copy from bookshop.org as a hardcover now or pre-order the paperback. You can also check and see if your local library has a copy.

This is going to be less of a review and more of an admiration for a specific trope that is masterfully used. Due to the nature of the trope, there will be spoilers, including major plot points near the climax of the novel. If you want to go in blind, stop reading now.

"If you say in the first chapter that there is a rifle hanging on the wall, in the second or third chapter it absolutely must go off. If it's not going to be fired, it shouldn't be hanging there." — Anton Chekhov (From S. Shchukin, Memoirs. 1911.)

So, Chekhov's Gun. It's a guideline when writing narrative fiction that is commonly interpreted as: every element in a story should be needed, and anything that isn't needed should be removed. You could probably also think of it as a form of foreshadowing, but I'm not an author nor an authority on narrative fiction.

Anyway, spoiler alert - Brooks' grandfather dies during chapter one of the novel. As is common when a family member dies, the living have the chore of sorting through a lifetime's worth of items. As Brooks is the sole remaining person in his family, that task falls to him.

This leads to the below setup for the trope:

I felt around the edge and found a length of floorboard that wasn’t stuck down, and beneath it, a heavy nylon loop. I hauled on it and a square of floor lifted straight up, revealing Gramps’s secret. He’d jackhammered away a neat square of foundation slab, dug down about four feet, and poured a concrete vault, which he’d filled with: three AR-15s; forty boxes of ammo; a bag of expired high-strength antibiotics; a wilderness survival kit identical to the one he’d given me for my first Scout sleepout, including the hatchet my Scoutmaster had confiscated before we got on the bus; topographical maps of LA County; and, wrapped in oilcloth, a wooden box like you’d keep poker chips in, but this was full of krugerrands, heavy and glinting dully, dated mostly from the first and second decades of this century.

As guns are now illegal, this leads to Brooks stashing the guns, ammo, and gold in the hills of California by page 80. They get mentioned a few times throughout the novel, reminding you of their existence, but don't become really relevant to the plot until right before the climax.

A part of the story that almost feels like it could be the climax.

A group of Maga terrorists have taken Brooks' friends hostage. Brooks decides that in order to save his friends he has to go into the California hills and get the guns.

This, turns out, was not necessary. In fact, it's revealed later that the likeliest outcome of trying to perform an armed rescue would have been his death.

So, it comes to pass that the guns were introduced in the first act, and were subsequently not fired in the third.

The scene that completes the arc of trope:

That was what my grandfather had raised me to expect: a final confrontation, an all-out war, a battle for the future of the human race and its planet. That was what he was planning for, and right up until that moment, as I cleaned off his guns and hid them in the construction waste, I had never really considered the possibility that he’d been wrong. I’d thought there’d be a war with two sides: Gramps’s side and mine. I’d never thought that the real war would be between the people who refused to go to war and the fools who thought they could shoot climate change in the face.

So we have the setup, the implication that the guns will be used later in the novel. Only, they don't get used. They're practically useless, and almost actively harmful. But, given the themes and messaging of the book, the guns being useless is the only possible outcome. The subversion of this trope[0] drives the point home. Having some kind of final showdown isn't the message. Individuals storming the building with guns to to save the day would fly counter to the message of collective action being the way we move forward.

The message I took from the book was that building shelter for refugees is the way forward, even if doing that gets you arrested.

That feeding the hungry is the way forward, even if you get fined for it.

That taking care of people, even if those people were previously pointing a gun at you, is the way forward. (note: ensuring that they don't have access to their guns anymore is wise.)

The only way forward is to build the systems of mutual aid now, even if building those systems will be fraught with adversity and challenges.

No matter what happens, we will always be building the future in the shadow of the present. Only with collective action can we move forward, and only if we take care of each other.

[0] so, I'm not entirely convinced that this is really a subversion of the trope. While the guns aren't fired, they are necessary to the plot in the latter part of the book. But again, I am not an author nor an authority on narrative fiction.

[theycallmebecca]

Drabble: The Five Step Plan

Well this story for @the-slumberparty turned into a BEAST... I can't tell you the last time I've written something this long... it took a few days, but I'm happy with how it turned out.

As I mentioned, this is for @the-slumberparty and the Week 3 challenge to try something new in regards to tropes. The prompt I used was baby/child acquisition, but with exes to lovers.

In the end, this story turned into an AU version of how Frank Adler ended up as the guardian for his niece Mary. So not only was it new tropes for me, but also more dramatic and emotional than I normally get. Hence the warnings.

Title: The Five Step Plan

Pairing: Frank Adler x female reader

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: some language, AU version of how Frank became Mary's guardian, minor character death but mostly dealing with the fallout from said death

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

Usage Disclaimer: This work is for fans only. This author does not give permission for it to be shared, spoken of, referred to in any public manner (podcast, tv, online, etc.) that wants to either make a celebrity uncomfortable, mock fan fiction/fandom in any way, or the author themselves. Requests can be made, but it is unlikely the author will change their mind. If no response is given to a request then the answer is a solid no, not interested and the work cannot be shared, spoken of or even referred to, regardless of the manner or context. 

The call came in minutes before Frank was due on stage for a discussion panel at a conference.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Adler, there’s been a car accident," the police officer said. "Your sister's car was sideswiped and she did not make it.”

“My niece? Mary? Is she… is she ok?” he panicked.

“She’s fine, she wasn’t in the car,” the police officer answered but there was a hesitancy in his voice.

“What's going on?!” Frank demanded.

“She was the one who called to report it,” the police officer said. “It happened right in front of her.”

“Oh Mary!” Frank cried out, his heart breaking in two for his 13-year-old niece. “Where is she now?”

“She’s currently at the hospital, she insisted on riding with her mother,” the police officer said. “She threatened to sue the city for child abandonment if they didn’t take her with… she said you were in California.”

“My wife,” he heard himself say. “I’ll call my wife, she’ll come get Mary and do whatever needs to be done.”

“Give her my number, I’ll wait for her call,” the police officer said, his voice sounding relieved.

Frank mumbled goodbye and then hung up, totally numb. His sister was dead. Gone forever and…

“Mr. Adler? They’re ready for you,” a voice said from behind him.

Frank turned and somehow managed to say, “I can’t. I have to leave. My sister…” He couldn’t say the word, so he just said, “accident. Bad.”

Then he fled. It wasn’t until he was in the privacy of his hotel room that he called you. Technically, you were still his wife, even though the two of you had been in a trial separation for almost six months. But he knew you loved Mary, too, and would drop everything to rush to her.

————

You got to the hospital less than twenty minutes after hanging up with Frank. The police officer was waiting for you and within minutes you were reunited with Mary.

The teenager was wearing her signature brave face until she saw you, then she melted, the events of the afternoon catching up to her. You rushed to her side and gathered her into your arms, giving into your own emotions as she sobbed.

Eventually, the police officer cleared his throat and apologetically said that there were some legal things you had to take care of on behalf of Frank before you could take Mary home.

“I want to go, too,” Mary said, standing up. “I don’t want to be left alone.”

You nodded your head and gave the police officer a look that said not to argue. After all, Mary had already seen her mother immediately following the accident.

An hour later, you unlocked the front door of Frank’s condo, the place you’d called home for five years. You ushered Mary to the master bedroom and then held her until she cried herself to sleep.

It was only once she was asleep that you called for more help, asking your best friend to go to Mary and her mom's apartment and get their cat Fred and pack a bag of clothes for Mary.

You knew Frank wasn’t the biggest fan of cats, but you also knew he wouldn’t make his niece give up her cat, not after losing her mom.

As you waited for your friend to show up, you wandered around the condo and eventually realized that Frank hadn’t changed a thing in the six months since you’d moved out.

It made you both mad and sad that he hadn’t changed anything, because it just reaffirmed to you the choice you’d made to walk away. You weren’t a materialistic person in the least, but you wanted to be loved and appreciated and Frank wasn’t good at expressing love or appreciation. You’d hoped your walking away would wake him up, but it clearly hadn’t.

You heard Fred yowling in protest before your friend knocked on the door. Getting up, you let her in and took the cat carrier from her.

“Shh, Fred,” you whispered to the cat. “Mary needs you.”

The cat quieted instantly and didn’t fight you as you pulled him out of the carrier. You carried him down the hall to Frank’s room and set him on the bed.

He made soothing cat noises as he walked towards Mary and then he snuggled up close to her. You held your breath until you saw Mary’s shoulders visibly relax and knew that Fred was exactly what she had needed.

Leaving the room, you helped your friend with the rest of Mary’s stuff, putting it all in the guest room.

“Do you want me to stay until Frank gets here?” your friend offered.

You shook your head and said, “We’ll be fine.”

Your friend gave you a look that said she didn’t believe you, but she gave you a hug and made you promise to call if you needed anything.

————

It had taken Frank nearly twelve hours, but he was finally home. He took the stairs two at a time and quietly let himself into the condo since it was nearly 5 in the morning.

He set his bag down and he made his way to the guest room, where he assumed you’d put Mary to bed. He was surprised, therefore, to find the door open and the room empty save for things he recognized from Mary's room from her apartment.

Turning towards the master bedroom, he crossed the hall and turned the handle slowly. Stepping inside, he was surprised to find Mary alone, though a telltale purr alerted him to the presence of Fred, too.

He was annoyed for half a second before it dawned on him that of course you’d put Mary in his bed. The girl had been through a traumatic experience and you’d both agreed to take her some place she knew that wasn’t home. He hadn’t been there, but the bed had smelt like him, which would have helped calm Mary more.

Stepping out of the room, he pulled the door closed and made his way to the heart of the condo, only seeing the blankets folded up on the couch as he passed.

Hearing noises in the kitchen, he followed them and found you in the kitchen starting coffee and wearing one of his shirts and a pair of sweats.

You finished with the coffee pot and then turned towards him, your face showing the same grief that he knew his own showed, too.

He crossed the room and wrapped you in a hug, both of you giving into your grief.

————

You’d been in the waiting room the day Mary had been born and she had stolen your heart the first time you'd held her. She wasn’t your niece biologically, but she had been the one to make you an aunt and the two of you had had a special bond because of that.

Therefore, there was no way in hell you were going to abandon her when she needed you the most. Even if it meant having your heart rebroken nearly every day loving a man who would never love you back the way you deserved to be loved.

The first few weeks had been the hardest. The funeral had been planned and then had taken place. You and Frank had packed up his sister’s apartment, all of her things going into boxes in his garage while Mary’s stuff was unpacked in the guest room.

Then, at the will reading, you and Frank had found out that his sister still had you and Frank named as Mary’s legal guardians. You'd known she’d made the change following their mother’s passing, but you’d assumed she would have changed it when you and Frank had separated. Obviously, she hadn’t.

“I’ll move into my office,” Frank offered one evening after Mary was in bed and you were preparing to go home to your apartment. “You can move into the bedroom. It’s the only thing that makes sense when you’re here all day.”

You wanted to argue, but you were starting to get worried about Mary. She was seemingly just going through the motions and you were sure having both you and Frank within reach at a moment's notice would be helpful.

“Ok,” you said. “For Mary.”

And thus, that weekend, you moved back into your old home and went to bed in the bed that had been yours and Frank’s. The bed that smelled like him and made your heart hurt even more.

————

After you'd moved out of the condo, Frank had spent as little time there as possible, choosing to stay late in his office at the university over being bombarded with memories at the cold, sterile condo he lived in.

Now with you back in the condo and the addition of Mary, and even Fred, the condo was quickly becoming the place that Frank wanted to be. He adjusted his office hours at the university, mostly so he could take Mary to her therapy appointments, but also so he could spend time with the two of you.

Losing his sister had made him realize that he had been a fool to let you go without a fight. Thanks to a few therapy sessions, he had an idea of where things had gone wrong and he was determined to fix them.

Step one was spending more time with you, and Mary.

Step two was proving that he still loved you.

Step three was proving that the two of you couldn't live without each other.

Step four was getting you to fall in love with him again.

Step five was recommitting yourselves to each other.

He was going to do it.

————

You were looking through your list of text messages for something for work when you saw Frank's sister's name and guilt flooded you at the message next to it.

Promise me you'll never give up on him.

The two of you had been catching up, just days before the accident, and she'd sent that message and you hadn't replied.

"I'm sorry," you whispered to her spirit. "I should have replied, I was just scared."

Despite the awkward situation of being a sister-in-law and friend, she'd been as supportive as she could. She never pressured you for information, but was always willing to listen when you needed to talk to someone who understood Frank as well as you did, if not better.

"You're probably laughing up there," you muttered. Not over being gone from her daughter, of course, but over forcing her brother and you back together with no option but to spend lots of time together.

To Frank's credit, things were different now than they had been before you'd walked away. He was more attentive and, while he wasn't overzealous with his emotions, he wasn't as stoic as he had been before. There was not a single night that he sent Mary to bed without telling her that he loved her.

The changes you saw in him, made your heart hurt a little less each day and gave you a little more hope that things would all work out in the end.

"I promise," you whispered. "I won't give up on him."

————

It took six months of hard work, but Frank successfully got through the first four steps of his plan to get you back. It hadn't been as simple as he originally outlined, at least not after he'd let you in on the plan and you'd made your own suggestions. But in the end, the two of you had made it to the other side stronger than ever.

On the anniversary of the day you walked away from him, the two of you decided to renew your vows in a spur of the moment ceremony with just you guys and Mary in the backyard of the house you'd purchased together.

Mary insisted upon you both dressing up and said she'd take care of the wedding vows, which turned out to be a pair of wedding themed mad libs that she had gotten you both to fill out under the guise of being bored.

Needless to say, the intimate ceremony had been perfect, even though you and Frank had been crying from hysterical laughter rather than the normal emotions associated with weddings.

But finally, once you had all calmed down, you and Frank had sealed the crazy vows with a kiss.

[richincolor]

Everyone Wants to Know by Kelly Loy Gilbert

Review Copy: ARC via publisher Availability: 6/13/2023

This ripped-from-the-tabloids young adult drama by the critically acclaimed author Kelly Loy Gilbert about a girl’s famous-for-being-famous family fracturing from within as their dirty laundry gets exposed.

The Lo family sticks together. That’s what Honor has been told her whole life while growing up in the glare of the public eye on Lo and Behold , the reality show about her, her four siblings, and their parents. Their show may be off the air, but the Lo family members still live in the spotlight as influencers churning out podcasts, bestselling books, and brand partnerships. So when Honor’s father announces that he’s moving out of their northern California home to rent an apartment in Brooklyn, Honor’s personal upset becomes the internet’s trending B-list celebrity trainwreck—threatening the aspirational image the Los’ brand (and livelihood) depends on.

After one of her best friends leaks their private conversation to a gossip site, bruised and betrayed Honor pours all her energy into reuniting her family. With her parents 3,000 miles apart, her siblings torn into factions, and all of them under claustrophobic public scrutiny, this is easier said than done. Just when Honor feels at her lowest, a guarded yet vulnerable boy named Caden comes into her life and makes her want something beyond the tight Lo inner circle for the first time. But is it fair to open her heart to someone new when the people she loves are teetering on the edge of ruin?

As increasingly terrible secrets come to light about the people Honor thought she knew best in the world, she’s forced to choose between loyalty to her family and fighting for the life she wants.

Review: I've been a fan of Kelly Loy Gilbert's writing ever since I picked up Picture Us in the Light and realized that it was set at Monta Vista, a school in the area that I grew up. It was the first time I felt so seen in fiction, and I ended up convincing more than a few childhood friends to read it. So given all that, you know I was very, very excited for Gilbert's latest book, Everyone Wants to Know.

Gilbert's latest is a razor sharp look at an all-too-relevant topic at the moment: influencer culture and particularly influencer families. If you pay any attention at all to this space, you may have seen recent discussions, articles, etc regarding children who were raised by influencer parents and didn't consent to becoming influencer content. In Everyone Wants to Know, the influencer family is the Lo family, a family who once starred in a reality show before spawning an influencer empire. The narrator, Honor, must grapple with the fallout when her father announces that he's leaving the family and secrets are uncovered.

People who follow influencer culture will find Everyone Wants to Know propulsive and compelling. The level of detail is incredible -- it reminded me of Crazy Rich Asians. At times, I found the amount of detail and cascade of event after event somewhat overwhelming, but overall, I found that it meaningfully contributed to a gripping tale of family drama.

My favorite part was Honor's reflections on family and cultural heritage. I loved the historical and cultural tie-in to where Honor's parents and grandparents came from. An Asian American take on influencer family drama resonated with me.

For people who are interested in influencer culture, this is an absolute must-read and came out at just the right time in this cultural moment. I definitely recommend checking it out if it sounds intriguing to you! (And please, please read Picture Us in the Light!)

Recommendation: Get it soon!

[nonopiimagines]

Fandom: Fallout: New Vegas: New California Pairing: Ben Kurtz x f!Star Player/f!Courier Warnings: references to “breeding” Word Count: 1594 Author Notes: Final chapter, but there’s a sequel already happening. :P

part vi.

It was the day of the operation on Fort Daggerpoint. End the super mutant threat. It wasn’t going to be easy. Everyone had a stake in this. The remaining survivalists, the Enclave, the NCR. It was going to be a cluster fuck.

Since your first venture into Fort Daggerpoint, you had withdrawn into yourself. You couldn’t trust anyone but your friends, yet you were at the mercy of everybody. One wrong move and you could be a super mutant breeding machine or the NCR’s darkest secret or the Enclave’s greatest experiment. You just wanted to be left alone, to be the master of your own fate. If you thought politics in the vault was bad, that was nothing in comparison to shit you were in now.

You rubbed your face in exhaustion, mentally preparing yourself for one more walk to the city, one more conversation with General Silverman. Ben appeared at your side, putting a hand on your shoulder. His usual calming presence couldn’t even touch the anxiety and adrenaline that coursed through your body.

“Ben,” you paused, grabbing his hand and squeezing it, trying to find a way to put your thoughts into words. “This is so fucked.”

If it had been any other day, he might’ve chuckled. But instead he let out a breath, his face a little grimmer than usual. “We have to destroy the evil within the Fort. Fuck everything else.”

You looked up at him and nodded, not really believing that “fuck everything else�� was as easy as he made it seem. From the look in his eyes, he didn’t believe it either. But if there was any chance of you being able to live your life in freedom and peace, it had to be done.

---

The NCR and the Desert Rangers were there first to usher you in. Amidst all the bloodshed--bodies of enemies and allies alike-- you noticed something that didn't seem quite right. The California Tribe was absent.

You didn't look at Ben. You kept your eyes ahead, yelling orders when another wave of super mutants rushed out of the depths of the fort, mowing down anyone in front of them. Airstrikes rained down from above and the sounds of the raider vertibirds came and went, bringing more bodies and confusion.

Silverman made it clear: it was up to you and your team to go into the fort and subdue the threat. Once you were past the large metal doors, there would be no help from the NCR. Not that you expected any.

---

“It’s beautiful, in some ways.”

Kira was right. Your team had made it to the dam and it was hauntingly empty for a moment. Sounds of the fight at the gates were muffled by the stone surrounding you. The sky was dipping into a rich purple dusk, the moon peeking out of the clouds above, and you wished you were anywhere but here. Back into the depths of Fort Daggerpoint. You didn’t feel ready to face the Father and what he would say to you, but you didn’t have a choice. If you could have one second to breathe, you would take it. It was now.

You were glad that your friends were around you. You were glad that Ranger Vargas was a few steps away with her team. You were even glad Captain Jameson had tagged along too. At least you had made some impact on the San Bernardino valley, even if the people who you impacted most were going to die today fighting alongside you.

“Are you ready?” A breath escaped you when he said it.

You looked at Ben and then you looked at Kira, Jamie, and Eric a few feet away pointing at the water below. You were as ready as you were ever going to be. So you nodded and did the one last thing you could think of because this might be your last chance.

You kissed Ben on the cheek.

You didn’t wait for a response. That would be your reward for bringing everyone back out alive. Turning toward the doors that would lead you to the Father, you yelled behind you, “Let’s go!”

---

Dread filled your body and you knew it was not the time to choke. You had just found Anais and now you were going to lose her. Someone who was like you, who would know you in ways you didn’t think anyone ever could, not even your late siblings. You stared at the button, hearing her voice below demanding that you press it, destroy the things that hurt you and her and so many others. Destroy Project Brazil. Destroy it all.

So you did. You hoped this was the death she wanted. Was she happy? Relieved? Scared? Satisfied?

God, this was not what you expected to happen. It wasn’t what you wanted to happen.

All you had to do now was evacuate. You dared to hope you could even manage that. Eric was badly wounded, leaning heavily on Jamie as you approached them. You grabbed his other arm and signalled Ben to lead as you left the launch pad, Kira trailing behind a ways.

As soon as you saw the vertibird, you knew it was over. Everyone had fucking vertibirds, none of them were a good sign.

It echoed in your mind that maybe it was for the best. You could be stalled at the platform too long and you would all be incinerated by the rockets when they launched. That wouldn’t be the worst outcome. Then Project Brazil would truly be dead, assuming you didn’t survive.

“General Silverman.” It wasn’t a greeting, it wasn’t a exclamation of joy, it was an exhausted attempt at regarding this man who had too much power over you.

“Y/N. Well done.”

This conversation seemed to last for hours, but it wasn’t long enough.

“They know what you are and were ready to pull the trigger, but I was able to change their minds. They’re looking for someone to deliver high-priority packages, someone with special abilities like yourself.” Silverman looked you straight in the eyes, like he was doing you a favor, like he finally was able to help you, such a hapless soul. “Agree and you’ll be free. As free as you can be.”

Freedom. A life working with the NCR or a life running away from them. You could spend forever running, never stopping until you hit the Atlantic. Would you be safe then? Would they be safe? Your friends. No, your fucking family. You would always be able to run, to get back up again when they beat you down, but Jamie, Eric, Kira, and Ben didn’t have that opportunity. This was it for them. Their lives are in your hands, they always were. You nodded slowly, not looking at the General but at the shadows of your friends on the ground beside you.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’ll make sure your friends have a good place to go.” He didn’t sound apologetic. You don’t know how you expected this to turn out. Maybe you were too optimistic. This was obviously the best outcome you could’ve ever had, in any universe, in any timeline. There were bigger powers at play, you were all just doing your part as pawns to keep the wheels turning.

You turned to your friends.. It was all happening too fast. You weren’t prepared for this.

“Get in the vertibird. I’ll come find you,” it was all you could manage without breaking down, your eyes already shining, you could feel the pressure at the back of your throat. Jamie just nodded, though she knew what was happening. She didn’t waste any time pulling Eric into vertibird, demanding a medic look at his leg, torn and bleeding. Her last look at you was full of tears, so she just looked away again, taking one of Eric’s hands in her own. Kira followed her shortly, after staring at you for a long time, trying to gauge the sincerity of your words. She shook her head, pulling her fingers through her hair.

Lastly, there was Ben. He stood immobile, his eyes piercing into you. You couldn’t tell what was going through his head, but time was running out. You walked up to him, yanking his hand from where it was clenched at his side, and threading your fingers through his.

“I will come find you.” He trusted you every step of the way. He needed to trust you now, NCR be damned.

“Y/N!” General Silverman was already getting climbing into the vertibird, two NCR soldiers approaching you slowly, meaning to take you away forcefully if you didn’t comply soon.

You gave Ben’s hand a final squeeze before backing away until you were pulled in unceremoniously next to General Silverman. The rush of wind blew through your hair as the vertibird blades picked up speed and you slowly ascended.

This was it. You crawled to the edge of the vertibird, staring at Ben, trying to map everything about him into your memory, but it was difficult. It was difficult as you saw him finally fall to his knees, a look of defeat flashing across his face before Kira ran over to him, urging him to get into the vertibird with her. It was difficult when tears were filling your vision, blurring everything together. It was difficult as you pulled away, unable to see your friends anymore, not knowing when you would see them again.

fin.

[bexatomarama]

They Made Me Do It {Whumptober o22}

Prompt: Cursed | Demon | Obsession

You could hear secrets on the wind.

In some tired old border town, just barely within the New California Republic’s jurisdiction, surrounded by desert and sage brush. The secrets tend to travel just out of earshot, murmurs said in frustration, prayers from desperation, broken whispers of tall tales on the breeze.

Everyone spoke their secrets to the wind, sure as the sun would rise and eventually set. No one bothered to watch their tongue, just passing through the ghost town on the way to greener pastures. No sense of shame when you’ll be gone the next day.

Amongst the old prospectors, too tired to continue scavenging, and the working women, who may as well have built the town while they lay on their backs, was an oddity. While most folk leave their secrets in the sun-bleached wood and sky, one couple left more. The child was abandoned around high noon one day in June. Left between the old well and a clutch of juniper brush.

The child stood there for a spell, before sitting down in the dirt, watching as people came and went. Watching with wide obsidian eyes, far more calculating than one reckons a child would have.

“An old soul,” The Madame stated, matter of fact. She stood against the splintered pergola of her bungalow home and business.

“Or a devil,” The aged prospector spat, chew ringing in the tin bucket at his feet.

It’s been ages since either had thought of a child, let alone seen one. Those days had long since passed, nothing for children here but dust and dirt.

“No place for children.” The prospector hummed, turning away from the unnerving eyes that seem to follow every word. He entered the Madame's home without even glancing back, despite feeling the chill of those obsidian rocks glaring into his back.

“Poor dear,” The Madame sighed, but life was tough like that.

She didn’t think of the child again till the next morning when they watched her leave her bungalow home. They didn’t move from between the juniper brush and the old well.

It was like staring down a rattler, or one of the ranchos that occasionally sneak into homes for just a whisper of water. Sent shivers down the madame’s spine, too unnatural.

The child was lanky, no baby fat and a mop of straight black hair. Like the burnt trunk of a cedar tree, hints of red in the light. Those obsidian eyes, reflecting light back towards anyone who looked into them too long. They didn’t speak, at least not to anyone who would listen.

The old prospector died that evening. Around high noon. Could have been anything, truly. His heart, his lungs, his old bones. Men that age tend to just drop dead, especially in decrepit border towns like this.

The local doctor, not much younger, and three strong men in town for the evening, dragged the old prospector out to the edge of town. Buried him under a barrel cactus, a haphazardly crafted cross above his grave. The Madame paid her respects, he was a customer of hers after all.

Down the hill, past the dried-up arroyo, the child watched the proceedings without a word. The Madame averted her gaze as she walked past after the impromptu funeral. The child’s eyes followed her the entire way.

The local law, some jaded old NCR sergeant, eventually approached the child, out of necessity than care. The Madame could hear him from her pergola, fanning the heat from her face with a moth-eaten hand fan.

“Ain’t no free rides out here, little miss.”

The child looked up towards the old soldier, unblinking. The wind changed, heat sweltering and grit swept up in dirt devils on the ground. The old soldier clutched the child by the skinny forearm, even from here the Madame could see the grip was too tight.

“This isn’t right.”

The Madame left the pergola, afraid to voice her thoughts aloud, and returned to her home. She locked the door for the first time in years.

The old soldier passed around midnight that night.

The local doc, and an undertaker from out of town, took care of the body. They didn’t mention how he’d died. The child was missing from their spot between the old well and juniper brush.

The soldier might have been a client, but the man unnerved her greatly. Possibly more so than the child. Their absence seemed to go unnoticed by the other denizens of the border town. Most assumed they continued on; folks tend to just pass through anyhow.

But bad luck often comes in threes. Call it a curse from the obsidian eyed child, those who spoke ill of them seemed to meet an untimely end. And she did nothing to help.

The Madame paced her living room, fraying a path into the already frayed rug. She couldn’t free the image from her mind, those dark eyes watching her every move. The grip of the soldier on the child’s arm. The accusations from the prospector at their arrival.

The obsession seemed to grow the more days passed with seeing hide nor hair of the odd child. No one else passed away that midnight or afternoon but something was wrong. She could feel it on the wind, hear it from the juniper brush rustling.

Horrible things, secrets she was never supposed to hear.

They got louder every six hours. Till finally they were echoing around her small bungalow. Overwhelming her at every angle, thinking thoughts she’d never dare think, seeing scenarios she’d never dreamed of partaking in, making her a stranger in her own mind.

The echoes almost sounded like the wails of coyotes. Hundreds of them, howling into that obsidian night. She needed air.

From the pergola, she panted into the dark. The sound cumulating into an ear splitting shriek.

It came from the old, dried up well.

With hurried steps, bare feet rubbing raw against dirt and grit, she approached the rough stone. Like standing over an abyss, nausea overwhelming her and sweat beading at her temple.

She looked down.

In the abyss of disuse, stagnant water melting in the back of her throat, tinged with rusted metal. Copper. Her grip tightened, knuckles white and nails bloody against the rough rock.

Two obsidian eyes looked back.

[9oodshots]

‘𝗦𝗖𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗠 𝟱’ 𝗜𝗦 𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗡𝗢𝗪 𝗜𝗡 🇦🇺⁣ 𝗢𝗡 𝟰𝗞 𝗨𝗛𝗗, 𝗕𝗟𝗨-𝗥𝗔𝗬, 𝗗𝗩𝗗 & 𝗗𝗜𝗚𝗜𝗧𝗔𝗟⁣ 🎬 𝗦𝗬𝗡𝗢𝗣𝗦𝗜𝗦 & 😎 𝗡𝗢𝗡-𝗦𝗣𝗢𝗜𝗟𝗘𝗥 𝗥𝗘𝗩𝗜𝗘𝗪:⁣ ⁣ 🎬: On the 25th anniversary of the original killings in the fictional California town of Woodsboro, another killer emerges wearing the well-recognised Ghostface garb & targets a new generation of teenagers.⁣ ⁣ But this, time things are different: the victims are related in some way to the town’s deadly secrets dating back 25 years. Can & will the killer be stopped?⁣ ⁣ 😎: The original 1996 ‘Scream’ movie & headliner of the franchise, had a strong winning formula by combining an emerging cast with an unusual story based around other horror movies. The plot twist of there being 2 killers, working in conjunction, made it difficult to pinpoint either one in a way that only Wes Craven, the iconic horror director, could execute.⁣ ⁣ Craven & writer Kevin Williamson collaborated on 3 further sequels, but the audience/fan reception to those films was progressively less-favourable since the formula really didn’t change.⁣ ⁣ ‘Scream 5’ is somewhat different. The directing duo of Matt Bettinelli-Olpin & Tyler Gillett have breathed new life into the franchise by utilising elements of the original movie, particularly the history & dynamics of the original cast, with a new group of characters.⁣ ⁣ Melissa Barrera, a standout in the ‘In The Heights’ musical, & Jenny Ortega, who had a breakout role in ‘The Fallout,�� play sisters Sam & Tara Carpenter [respectively] targeted by the killer for a specific reason.⁣ ⁣ Jasmin Savoy Brown, who was outstanding in ‘Yellowjackets,’ really complements the teenage friend group as a twin with attitude. Her explanation of what a ‘requel’ is [ie reboot sequel] is hilarious.⁣ ⁣ 👻🔪 With some hidden pop-culture references, the no-holds-barred teenage cast's analysis of why fans are over the repetitiveness of the franchise, the brutal violence that leaves little to the imagination & the original cast poking fun at themselves, horror fans will enjoy this 5th instalment. 🔪👻 ⁣ Thanks to @paramountpicturesathomeau; ‘Scream 5,’ rated 𝗠𝗔𝟭𝟱+, is available in 🇦🇺 now. ©️ #scream #ad (at SCREAM) https://www.instagram.com/p/CcEs8zAvoyp/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[notyourdoll68]

Rules: Answer 20 questions + tag 20 blogs you'd love to get to know better!

I was tagged by @musicjunkie777

Name: Ashlee Nicole, but I go by Nicole

Zodiac: cancer🥰

Pronouns: she/her

Height: 5'4 🧚‍♀️

Time: 5:44pm

Birthday: June 29, 1995

Nationality: American

Ethnicity: caucasian: Irish, English, with a very small amount of Native American.

Favorite band: Slaves, CCR, and Black Crowes are a few

Favorite solo artist: Jonny Craig, Doobie, NF, Skitz Kraven

When you created your blog: first one back in maybe 2014. This one a few months ago.

Last thing I googled: Gotti Pittbull. Person that gave me John Wick told me he was a Gotti. Hes not.

Other blogs: rebnoboy I'm a true crime fan. And Columbine is one of the ones that have drug me down its rabbit hole.

Why I chose my url: because I've been called a doll my entire life because I'm tiny and "adorable". But I dont want to be seen as dainty and adorable 24/7. 68 is my favorite number.

How many people you’re following: 854 more than half are TCC blogs 😂

How many followers you have: 294 🥰

Average hours of sleep: 2-14. I deal with insomnia and depression alot, so I cant always sleep. But when I go too long with little sleep I can knock out for up to 14 hours.

Lucky number: 68💕

Instruments: I was playing guitar. I want to get back into it though.

Currently wearing: maroon knockoff peachlift leggings 😂😂 and a black tee

Dream trip: Ireland. I want to spend a month or 2 there. I want to explore every inch I can. Honestly I would move my daughter out there if I knew I could afford it.

Favorite food: oh fuck, I'm southern. We are fatasses. Soooo homemade chicken and dumplings, crawfish, shrimp and cocktail sauce, bbq, fried deer fingers, mommas taco soup, and sweet potatoes. 😅😂

Favorite song: a new one is California Girls by NoMBe

Top three fictional universes I’d live in: Fallout 4: I wanna work with Nick. Harry Potter: I want to fight in the battle, make spells, visit the shops, and love on creatures. Marvel, do I even need to explain?

Now I get to tag:

@the-w0nder-beards

@romanismiserablenow

@l-x-d

@lilvillainess

@fro-ze

@adventuresofblizzard

@isolatedthoughts77

@dizei

@smokeystevee

@brandongfys

@dopaminerusch

I dont really have 20😂

[glass-kilimanjaro]

Hugh Everett

Hugh Everett III was born in 1930 and raised in the Washington, D.C. area. Everett's parents separated when he was young. Initially raised by his mother (Katherine Lucille Everett née Kennedy), he was raised by his father (Hugh Everett Jr) and stepmother (Sarah Everett née Thrift) from the age of seven.

At the age of twelve he wrote a letter to Albert Einstein asking him whether that which maintained the universe was something random or unifying. Einstein responded as follows:

Dear Hugh: There is no such thing like an irresistible force and immovable body. But there seems to be a very stubborn boy who has forced his way victoriously through strange difficulties created by himself for this purpose. Sincerely yours, A. Einstein

Everett won a half scholarship to St. John's College High School in Washington, D.C. From there, he moved to the nearby Catholic University of America to study chemical engineering as an undergraduate. While there, he read about Dianetics in Astounding Science Fiction. Although he never exhibited any interest in Scientology (as Dianetics became), he did retain a distrust of conventional medicine throughout his life.

During World War II his father was away fighting in Europe as a lieutenant colonel on the general staff. After World War II, Everett's father was stationed in West Germany, and Hugh joined him, during 1949, taking a year out from his undergraduate studies. Father and son were both keen photographers and took hundreds of pictures of West Germany being rebuilt. Reflecting their technical interests, the pictures were "almost devoid of people".

Princeton[edit]

Everett graduated from the Catholic University of America in 1953 with a degree in chemical engineering, although he had completed sufficient courses for a mathematics degree as well. He received a National Science Foundation fellowship that allowed him to attend Princeton University for graduate studies. He started his studies at Princeton in the mathematics department, where he worked on the then-new field of game theory under Albert W. Tucker, but slowly drifted into physics. In 1953 he started taking his first physics courses, notably Introductory Quantum Mechanics with Robert Dicke.

During 1954, he attended Methods of Mathematical Physics with Eugene Wigner, although he remained active with mathematics and presented a paper on military game theory in December. He passed his general examinations in the spring of 1955, thereby gaining his master's degree, and then started work on his dissertation that would (much) later make him famous. He switched thesis advisor to John Archibald Wheeler some time in 1955, wrote a couple of short papers on quantum theory and completed his long paper, Wave Mechanics Without Probability in April 1956.

In his third year at Princeton, Everett moved into an apartment which he shared with three friends he had made during his first year, Hale Trotter, Harvey Arnold and Charles Misner. Arnold later described Everett as follows:

He was smart in a very broad way. I mean, to go from chemical engineering to mathematics to physics and spending most of the time buried in a science fiction book, I mean, this is talent.

It was during this time that he met Nancy Gore, who typed up his Wave Mechanics Without Probability paper. Everett married Nancy Gore the next year. The long paper was later retitled as The Theory of the Universal Wave Function.

Wheeler himself had traveled to Copenhagen in May 1956 with the goal of getting a favorable reception for at least part of Everett's work, but in vain. In June 1956 Everett started defense work in the Pentagon's Weapons Systems Evaluation Group, returning briefly to Princeton to defend his thesis after some delay in the spring of 1957. A short article, which was a compromise between Everett and Wheeler about how to present the concept and almost identical to the final version of his thesis, was published in Reviews of Modern Physics Vol 29 #3 454-462, (July 1957), accompanied by an approving review by Wheeler. Everett was not happy with the final form of the article. Everett received his Ph.D. in physics from Princeton in 1957 after completing his doctoral dissertation titled "On the foundations of quantum mechanics."

After Princeton[edit]

Everett's attendance marked the transition from academia to commercial work.

Upon graduation in September 1956, Everett was invited to join the Pentagon's newly-forming Weapons Systems Evaluation Group (WSEG), managed by the Institute for Defense Analyses. Between 23–26 October 1956 he attended a weapons orientation course managed by Sandia National Laboratories at Albuquerque, New Mexico to learn about nuclear weapons and became a fan of computer modeling while there. In 1957, he became director of the WSEG's Department of Physical and Mathematical Sciences. After a brief intermission to defend his thesis on quantum theory at Princeton, Everett returned to WSEG and recommenced his research, much of which, but by no means all, remains classified. He worked on various studies of the Minuteman missile project, which was then starting, as well as the influential study The Distribution and Effects of Fallout in Large Nuclear Weapon Campaigns.

During March and April 1959, at Wheeler's request, Everett visited Copenhagen, on vacation with his wife and baby daughter, in order to meet with Niels Bohr, the "father of the Copenhagen interpretation of quantum mechanics". The visit was a complete disaster; Everett was unable to communicate the main idea that the universe is describable, in theory, by an objectively existing universal wave function (which does not "collapse"); this was simply heresy to Bohr and the others at Copenhagen. The conceptual gulf between their positions was too wide to allow any meeting of minds; Léon Rosenfeld, one of Bohr's devotees, talking about Everett's visit, described Everett as being "undescribably stupid and could not understand the simplest things in quantum mechanics". Everett later described this experience as "hell...doomed from the beginning".

However, while in Copenhagen, in his hotel, he started work on a new idea to use generalized Lagrange multipliers for mathematical optimization. Everett's theorem, published in 1963, relates the Lagrangian bidual to the primal problem.

In 1962 Everett accepted an invitation to present the relative-state formulation (as it was still called) at a conference on the foundations of quantum mechanics held at Xavier University in Cincinnati.[16] In his exposition Everett presented his derivation of probability and also stated explicitly that observers in all branches of the wavefunction were equally "real." He also agreed with an observation from the floor that the number of branches of the universal wavefunction was an uncountable infinity.[16]

In August 1964, Everett and several WSEG colleagues started Lambda Corp. to apply military modeling solutions to various civilian problems. During the early 1970s, defense budgets were curtailed and most money went to operational duties in the Vietnam War, resulting in Lambda eventually being absorbed by the General Research Corp.

In 1973, Everett and Donald Reisler (a Lambda colleague and fellow physicist) left the firm to establish DBS Corporation in Arlington, Virginia. Although the firm conducted defense research (including work on United States Navy ship maintenance optimization and weapons applications), it primarily specialized in "analyzing the socioeconomic effects of government affirmative action programs" as a contractor under the auspices of the Department of Justice and the Department of Health, Education and Welfare.[17] For a period of time, the company was partially supported by American Management Systems, a business consulting firm that drew upon algorithms developed by Everett. He concurrently held a non-administrative vice presidency at AMS and was frequently consulted by the firm's founders.

Everett cultivated an early aptitude for computer programming at IDA and favored the TRS-80 at DBS, where he primarily worked for the rest of his life.

Later recognition[edit]

In 1970 Bryce DeWitt wrote an article for Physics Today on Everett's relative-state theory, which evoked a number of letters from physicists. These letters, and DeWitt's responses to the technical objections raised, were also published. Meanwhile DeWitt, who had corresponded with Everett on the many-worlds / relative state interpretation when originally published in 1957, started editing an anthology on the many-worlds interpretation of quantum mechanics. In addition to the original articles by Everett and Wheeler, the anthology was dominated by the inclusion of Everett's 1956 paper The Theory of the Universal Wavefunction, which had never been published before. The book was published late in 1973, sold out completely, and it was not long before an article on Everett's work appeared in the science fiction magazine, Analog.[16]

In 1977, Everett was invited to give a talk at a conference Wheeler had organised at Wheeler's new location at the University of Texas at Austin. As with the Copenhagen visit, Everett vacationed from his defense work and traveled with his family. Everett met DeWitt there for the first and only time. Everett's talk was quite well received and influenced a number of physicists in the audience,[16] including Wheeler’s graduate student, David Deutsch, who later promoted the many-worlds interpretation to a wider audience.[16] Everett, who "never wavered in his belief in his many-worlds theory",[18] enjoyed the presentation; it was the first time for years he had talked about his quantum work in public. Wheeler started the process of returning Everett to a physics career by establishing a new research institute in California, but nothing came of this proposal. Wheeler, although happy to introduce Everett's ideas to a wider audience, was not happy to have his own name associated with Everett's ideas. Eventually, after Everett's death, he formally renounced the theory.[16][19]

Death and legacy[edit]

At the age of 51, Everett, who believed in quantum immortality,[6][20] died suddenly of a heart attack at home[9] in his bed on the night of July 18–19, 1982. Everett's obesity, frequent chain-smoking and alcohol drinking[9] almost certainly contributed to this, although he seemed healthy at the time. A committed atheist,[6] he had asked that his remains be disposed of in the trash after his death. His wife kept his ashes in an urn for a few years, before complying with his wishes.[6] About Hugh's death his son, Mark Oliver Everett, later said:

I think about how angry I was that my dad didn't take better care of himself. How he never went to a doctor, let himself become grossly overweight, smoked three packs a day, drank like a fish and never exercised. But then I think about how his colleague mentioned that, days before dying, my dad had said he lived a good life and that he was satisfied. I realize that there is a certain value in my father's way of life. He ate, smoked and drank as he pleased, and one day he just suddenly and quickly died. Given some of the other choices I'd witnessed, it turns out that enjoying yourself and then dying quickly is not such a hard way to go.[21]

Of the companies Everett initiated, only Monowave Corporation still exists (in Seattle as of March 2015). It is managed by co-founder Elaine Tsiang, who received a Ph.D. in physics under Bryce DeWitt at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill before working for DBS as a programmer.

Everett's daughter, Elizabeth, died by suicide in 1996 (saying in her suicide note that she wished her ashes to be thrown out with the garbage so that she might "end up in the correct parallel universe to meet up w[ith] Daddy"),[22] and in 1998, his wife, Nancy, died of cancer. Everett's son, Mark Oliver Everett, who found Everett dead, is also known as "E" and is the main singer and songwriter for the band Eels. The Eels album Electro-Shock Blues, which was written during this time period, is representative of these deaths.

Mark Everett explored his father's work in the hour-long BBC television documentary Parallel Worlds, Parallel Lives.[23][24][25][26] The program was edited and shown on the Public Broadcasting Service's Nova series in the USA during October 2008.[27][28][29] In the program, Mark mentions how he wasn't aware of his father's status as a brilliant and influential physicist until his death in 1982.

[bethestaryouareradio]

Wednesdays with Writers : Cultivating Gratitude, Last Days of Sylvia Plath, Life Of William Faulkner, Mixed Harvest

Wednesdays with Writers continues to offer you just published books by authors during this Covid 19 Crisis.

Gardening is not a hobby; it is an essential part of being. Gardening is a survival skill and an art form. This lockdown has sparked an increased appreciation for the solitude and splendor of gardening. Goddess Gardener, Cynthia Brian, helps you cultivate artful gratitude.

Two books will be discussed by author Carl Rollyson,The Last Days of Sylvia Plath and The Life of William Faulkner.  The Last Days of Sylvia Plath highlights how a writer can be shaped after their death and the subsequent fallout from posthumous literary editing. Rollyson brings together a vast range of source materials, drawing a sharp and convincing portrait of Faulkner, a great artist and family man who heroically struggled to support friends and family during the depths of the Depression in the second biography.

After millennia on earth with little impact, the inadvertent transition from hunting and gathering to agriculture happened within a few thousand years. Mixed Harvest by Rob Swigart is the story of the Sedentary Divide, the most significant event in human history. Before, humans followed their food; after, diet had abandoned wild foods by domesticating, irrevocably changing, plants and animals.

Bio: Carl Rollyson is the author of fourteen biographies for adults on subjects ranging from literature and journalism (Martha Gellhorn, Norman Mailer, and Rebecca West) to politics (Michael Foot) and the theater (Lillian Hellman). He has published four biographies for children about Marie Curie, Pablo Picasso, Thurgood Marshall, and Emily Dickinson.  His biographies of Rebecca West and Amy Lowell, and his study, A Higher Form of Cannibalism? Adventures in the Art and Politics of Biography, were supported by NEH Fellowships. Three of his biographies of Marilyn Monroe, Dana Andrews, and Walter Brennan are part of the Hollywood Legends series published by the University Press of Mississippi. The Last Days of Sylvia Plath and The Life of William Faulkner are his most recent publications. www.CarlRollyson.com

Bio: Rob Swigart is a genre-fluid writer with sixteen published books and almost as many unpublished, including satire, science fiction; interactive fiction; thrillers; archaeology textbook/novels, an Audible collection of short stories based on computer jargon of the 1980s, and dozens of poems. From humble beginnings as a cub reporter, he moved on to teach English in Greece, become a medic in the army, work in college textbook publishing, and go to graduate school. Then he taught, was a technical writer and journalist, designed games, spent a dozen years as a futurist, and traveled to dozens of archaeological sites in order to write about the past. Being a commercial, instrument rated pilot and SCUBA diver did little to prepare him for the apocalypse. His black belt in aikido may prove useful. Mixed Harvest recently won a gold Nautilus award. www.robswigart.com 

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Listen at Voice America Network, Empowerment Channel: https://www.voiceamerica.com/episode/123458/cultivating-gratitude-last-days-of-sylvia-plath-life-of-william-faulkner-mixed-harvest

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It's appropriate that Be the Star You Are! is being honored in the press for 20 years of global service. BTSYA was one of the first charities to offer relief to the survivors of the attacks. The THREE books in the Be the Star You Are! series were all published in September. Congrats to all who have served and supported this literacy and positive message cause. WooHoo!  http://www.digitaljournal.com/pr/4441606

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JUST PUBLISHED: Be the Star You Are! Millennials to Boomers Celebrating Gifts of Positive Voices in a Changing Digital World and Growing with the Goddess Gardener. Available at www.CynthiaBrian.com/online-store or  www.StarStyleStore.net

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When you are looking for upbeat, life-changing, and mind-stretching information, you have come to the right place. Host Cynthia Brian takes you on a journey of exploration that will encourage, inspire, and motivate you to make positive changes that offer life-enhancing results. It's party time on StarStyle®-Be the Star You Are!®. And YOU are invited! Join us LIVE 4-5pm Pt on Wednesdays or tune in to the archives at your leisure. Come play in StarStyle Country. Catch up with all broadcasts on iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/starstyle-be-the-star-you-are!/id669630180?mt=2

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[nonopiimagines]

Fandom: Fallout: New Vegas: New California Pairing: Ben Kurtz x f!Star Player/f!Courier Warnings: n/a Word Count: 2360 Author Notes: This mod makes replaying New Vegas almost a completely new experience.

part v.

Fort Daggerpoint. You would have easily dismissed the rumors about it being haunted, full of demons, or the epitome of all evil if your worldview hadn’t been so suddenly shattered just a few weeks prior. Talking about what existed outside of the vault felt like a dream, some fantasy made up by you and the other kids. You all knew you were born out there, but as you grew up, that might’ve all been a dream as well. Something unreal, unreachable. You were sure you were going to live and die in that metal tomb. It was almost unbelievable that you fell asleep in that dream and woke up in a burning hell hole, the bodies of your siblings scattered around you. And you had to crawl out of it into another hellish landscape that you never expected to have to fully realize and operate within.

So even though it would’ve have been easier to dismiss everyone’s claims about Fort Daggerpoint--including Ben’s-- you didn’t. It only took one earth shattering moment to teach you that everything was real at some point and though the words may have been twisted over time, their meanings still lay within.

---

It hurt like hell. You were afraid it was going to end just as it started: with your busted leg. It was just barely returning to normal and now you were paying the price without a full recovery. But you couldn’t let it end here. Your ears were ringing, your sweaty hair stuck to your face, tears pricked at your eyes, but your head felt clear in its objective: get the fuck out. Run. You have to tell someone.

Everyone was back in the Fort. You had to make it there. There were at least twenty super mutants standing between you and them. You didn’t even have your armor. You grabbed whatever weapon you could find and you just ran, ignoring the furious cries of your captors calling behind you.

It was the dam that made you the most nervous. You had to weave your way between the super mutants and dodge whatever weapons they were swinging or firing and you had to do it all with your hurt leg. You kept telling yourself that they needed you. If you didn't come back, they would fade into the dunes of The Pass and you could not allow that to happen, they deserved better. You deserved better.

So you were quiet. You gritted your teeth, held your breath, and hobbled along. It was easier than you had imagined, using the vehicles as cover, crawling underneath them when you felt too vulnerable.

You were clawing through the door of the fort, urging your legs to carry you farther and farther, just a little bit longer, up the vehicle ramp. You didn't realize how good it could feel to see the familiar faces of your friends and the relief of knowing that you had done so well. Coming back for them. They had been waiting for you.

It was easy to collapse into Jamie's arms, unable to speak as the stress finally caught up to you in the form of uncontrolled tears streaming down your face. They all looked at you, in your vault-issued underwear, your pistol still gripped tightly in your hand. You saw faces of confusion and concern but Jameson's face betrayed the horror he felt inside. He had sent you to your death but you survived. Maybe he thought he was seeing a ghost or the living dead, his guess wouldn't be that far off.

Ben followed your gaze and saw the same look you did before Jameson quickly regained his composure. It looked almost as though Ben was going to demand answers then and there, but after a moment of hesitation, he knelt beside you. In a moment of tenderness you didn't expect, especially in front of others, he pushed your sweat-soaked hair off your forehead and bore into you with his steely eyes. “y/n, what happened?”

You could not explain the rush of feelings overcame you when you heard his voice. It brought feelings of safety but also encouragement. This was not over. You still had to evacuate the Fort. You had to lead them to safety. So you took a deep breath and wiped away your tears with the back of your hand. “I was captured by super mutants but I managed to escape. We've got to get out of here though, they're looking for me and there's only one way I could've gone.” You spared a moment to glance at the ramp you were stumbling up just minutes before. “I need a stimpak--”

“Way ahead of ya.” Eric was bent over his backpack, rooting around for a moment before finding what he was looking for and tossing it to Ben. A super stimpak.

Before you could oppose, Ben ripped open the packaging and stabbed it into your naked leg, the audible release of the medicine signaling it was too late to protest. You stared at him as he discarded the used needle and tubing, his face more relaxed than it was a few moments ago.

“I grabbed this from an empty house in Union City,” Kira said quietly as she deposited a pre-war dress into your lap. “It's not much, but I want it back!” You gave her a brief smile, appreciating the way she always tried to lighten the mood, intentionally or not.

Already feeling the effects of the super stimpak, you sat up, shooing away Ben and Jamie. The dress fit you well enough, though you knew it would do a whole lot of nothing against bullets and grenades. But it was better than running around in your underwear. Grabbing your pistol, you turned to everyone and nodded. “I'm ready. We better get moving.”

---

“Are you going to tell me what really happened?”

You were sharing a bed again, up in the loft of Dr. Marius’ house. Kira's snores could be heard from a cot on the ground level. Jamie and Eric went into town for a drink. It was just the two of you.

Sleep had consumed you for a few days after you arrived back at Union City. You had dreams of returning to Fort Daggerpoint, wandering the large, cavernous rooms but this time it was empty. No super mutants, no ghouls, none of your companions. It was just you, walking in complete silence, following your footsteps until you reached the door to Father’s chambers. You would never enter, you weren’t ready to face what was behind that door.

As you dreamed, your leg had healed itself fully. You weren’t sure it it was just a combination of the stimpaks and rest or if the parasite inside you was restoring your leg to near perfect condition. When you awoke that morning, you were able to walk back into town without any pain or hobbling. Everyone told you it was a miraculous recovery, but you hesitated to call it a miracle.

You slowly rolled over to face Ben. He lay on his back, chest exposed, with one arm behind his head resting on the pillow. You saw the faint outline of his scar peak over his shoulder and you wondered if he even remembered when it happened. His memories seemed incomplete at times and though he wasn’t afraid to admit it, you knew what it felt like to have a part of you that was foreign. Something you knew nothing about, but was there to remind you every day that your brain was imperfect and you were part of something beyond yourself, whether you wanted to be or not.

You continue to study him, your eyes dragging over his angular features, cascading down his chest and out to his toned arms. He was becoming an extremely adept spear thrower for someone who was kicked off the vaultball team. It was becoming harder and harder to bring to mind Vault 18, trying to imagine yourself and Ben sitting a table in the diner in the atrium or remembering the faces of your siblings when they were playing card games or recalling the way you felt when you showed Dr. Rossman a terminal you hacked. That wasn’t your reality anymore. The dry San Bernardino dunes, the uncanny red ferns in Black Bear Forest, the war between the raiders, the Enclave, the super mutants, and the NCR--those were your reality now. This was your reality. Sharing your bed with this man who you trusted without a doubt, who believed in you when you didn’t, who was ready to follow you into the sunset without a word. You both had seen and lived though unspeakable horrors but to share a moment like this--vulnerable, exposed, uncertain--was comforting and human. It was something to keep you going.

Ben deserved the truth.

“The super mutants wanted me. That’s why we went to Fort Daggerpoint. The NCR knowingly hand-delivered me to them.”

“Jameson?”

You nodded.

He just closed his eyes, his breathing was slow and steady, but the clenched fist behind his head betrayed his anger.

“Why?”

This was your only uncertainty. Ben had expressed to you his feelings about super mutants or demons, as he called them. Repressing his memories for so long only made the pain of remembering his childhood escape from the super mutants that much more potent. They killed his friends and family, they took away his home, his freedom. He was lucky to escape with his life. You were afraid to tell him that you were a super mutant. This parasite made you one of them and it was something you couldn’t deny anymore.

You could feel it in your throat first. The burn of the tears as they welled up out of your eyes and silently slid down your face. It was difficult to go back there. You were already there every time you went to sleep, aimlessly wandering. But you didn’t want to remember how it felt when you woke up inside the glass chamber, how cold the metal was under feet as you were beckoned into the vat of FEV, the lidless stares of the super mutants as they watched you, so proud of what you were about to become. You wanted to throw up, to crumple to the ground and wail until you awoke from this nightmare. But you had to keep going. To tell dumb jokes with Kira again, to discuss alcoholic beverages of the Wasteland with Eric again, to shop for guns with Jamie again, to be near Ben again, to hear his voice, to be close to him, to share everything with him.

What scared you even more than remembering the Fissure of Sorrow, was upsetting Ben, losing his trust, becoming strangers.

“I…” You sniffled, your nose accommodating the wetness of your eyes.

Ben’s hand that wasn’t behind his head slid underneath the blankets until it found your hand, enclosing it within an iron grip. “Don’t cry.” It wasn’t an order. He never demanded anything from you. It was a reassurance. You didn’t need to cry because everything was okay. Everything will always be okay.

Relief rushed over you, forcing a small laugh out of your mouth. Even just small gestures like holding your hand eased your worries. You didn’t feel like everything was closing in on you. It grounded you to the present, the unyielding now. It gave you the strength and confidence to continue.

“The super mutants in Fort Daggerpoint, they’re in a cult. The Father wanted me because I have a parasite inside me. If I come into contact with FEV, I will become the perfect super mutant, capable of becoming the progenitor of new generation of super mutants. I escaped before their plans were fully realized.” You felt years pass, the words slowly coming out of your mouth, your whispers permeating the air. But you felt lighter.

The silence stretched on for a while, your hand clutching Ben’s as hard as he was clutching yours. “They will have to go through us if they want you.”

---

Continuing to support the NCR felt like the worst decision you had ever made. They tried to sell you out to prevent the super mutant uprising in the valley, but here you were and nobody could leave Union City without running into a patrol of super mutants and bellringers. They couldn’t ignore it anymore but above everyone else living in this valley, they were the only ones who could possibly stop the threat.

So you nodded in silence as General Silverman blabbered on about killing the raider king, wondering if he was really any better than that slave-loving bastard. Wondering if he would make the same mistake twice.

---

You all snuck in together with the help of Wilco Wilson. But you were the one who slipped into the mines, found Juan Maxon-Elsdragon, and let your plasma pistol do the talking. You didn’t let him say anything, you didn’t let anyone around him say anything. It was get in, get out. No heroic speeches about comeuppance, about getting what he deserved for all the people he tortured. As the life left his eyes, as you cradled a bullet wound on your arm from one of his bodyguards, you wondered briefly if it would really end here. His daughter would have something to say about her father’s death. But your thoughts stopped there. The NCR could deal with the fallout of their actions.

As you jumped back into Wilco’s wagon, you sat next to Jamie. You stared in front of you, letting her look at your wound, asking Eric for a bandage or a stimpak, Kira waving her hand in front of your face, asking how it went. You just nodded, a fake smile trying to work its way onto your face. “It went fine.”

Your eyes flashed over to Ben who stared openly at you, a mixture of concern and frustration flashing through his eyes.

[thatsnotcanonpodcasts]

Episode 43: No Propellers, Nintendo & Neon Genesis

So, I was going to be clever and lead in with a Kermit the frog intro and a Fuzzy B Bear joke, but we would probably get in trouble with Henson productions and Disney. So instead, Like sands in the… nope, that’s been taken too. Like a case of athlete’s foot, it is Nerds Amalgamated, here with the latest episode for you all. We hope everyone is safe, with massive fires in Queensland and devastating storms down south, Australia is reminding us of how unpredictable it is. We wish to say thank you to all the people of the various emergency services that are out saving lives in horrendous conditions.

            This episode we start with Buck and a plane without propellers, in fact it is Star Trek inspired as it utilises an ion drive. That’s right folks, a plane that is taking a page out of science-fiction. So, my fellow Nerds, once again a piece of fiction is moving to the non-fiction section of the library, whoop whoop! Buck and the Professor are both excited about this one, and at some point the DJ gets beamed up by Scotty because he fries the Dilithium Crystals. Aww, for goodness sake man, we canna take much more of this…

            While the DJ disappears Buck and the Professor talk about Nintendo closing the Nintendo Creators Program. That’s right, people who show video’s containing images of any games etc have had to submit it to the NCP for authorisation. Out of curiosity am I the only one thinking NCP sounds like OCP from Robocop? My goodness, Nintendo are going to give us Robocop in the future!!! I’ll buy that for a dollar.

            The DJ returns to tell us about how Neon Genesis is coming to Netflix, and some other items that are going to be live action remakes. Let’s hope they don’t screw these up like they did with Deathnote and Full Metal Alchemist. Rest assured though, if they do screw it up we will tell you about it and make more terrible puns. At this time we wish to say thank you to our listeners who have been with us each week, you are why we do this.

EPISODE NOTES:

Aircraft with no propellers

- https://www.insidescience.org/news/no-propellers-no-problem-new-kind-aircraft-takes-flight

Big news from Nintendo 

- https://r.ncp.nintendo.net/news/#list_8

Neon Genesis coming to Netflix

- https://comicbook.com/anime/2018/11/27/neon-genesis-evangelion-netflix-streaming-2019/

Games currently playing

Buck

– Car Mechanic Simulator 2015 - https://store.steampowered.com/app/320300/Car_Mechanic_Simulator_2015/

Professor

– Banished - http://www.shiningrocksoftware.com/game/

DJ

– Fallout 76 - https://fallout.bethesda.net/

Other Topics Discussed

First solar powered flight

- https://www.smithsonianmag.com/innovation/inside-first-solar-powered-flight-around-world-180968000/

Electric Cars charging station

- https://electrek.co/2018/06/05/electric-cars-charge-on-sunlight-tesla-powerpacks-smart-solar-charging-station/

Portable Folding Solar Panel

- https://www.australiandirect.com.au/Portable-Solar-Panels/Glass-Solar-Panels/KA300S

Portable Solar Panels

- https://goalzero.com.au/

Real reason why the Samsung Note 7 kept exploding

- https://www.wired.com/2017/01/why-the-samsung-galaxy-note-7-kept-exploding/

Shoutout to the firefighters fighting the bushfires at the time of recording

- https://www.abc.net.au/news/2018-11-29/flames-20m-high-fanned-by-tornado-like-winds-residents-say/10567442

Australian bushfires viewed from space

- https://www.abc.net.au/news/2013-01-14/iss-photo-bushfire-smoke/4463640

Project Pluto missile program

- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Project_Pluto

What is the power source of the SHIELD Helicarrier 

- https://scifi.stackexchange.com/questions/86822/what-is-the-powersource-of-the-avengers-helicarrier

Live Action Akira movie

- https://www.cinemablend.com/news/2400871/whats-happening-with-the-live-action-akira-movie-according-to-taika-waititi

Astro boy – 1963 version

- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Astro_Boy_(1963_TV_series)

Live-Action Cowboy Bebop will be on Netflix

- https://variety.com/2018/tv/news/cowboy-bebop-live-action-series-netflix-1203038458/

Death Note – 2017 Netflix Movie

- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Death_Note_(2017_film)

Reason why Samuel L. Jackson didn’t have an afro in Pulp Fiction

- https://www.cinemablend.com/new/Hilarious-Reason-Samuel-L-Jackson-Didn-t-Have-An-Afro-Pulp-Fiction-104607.html

Dr Who New Year’s Day Special photo

- https://comicbook.com/tv-shows/2018/11/27/doctor-who-new-years-special-photo-jodie-whittaker/

End of Evangelion the movie

- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_End_of_Evangelion

SCUM the game

- https://store.steampowered.com/app/513710/SCUM/

Kuru disease

- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kuru_(disease)

Bethesda Bag fiasco

- https://www.pcgamer.com/bethesdas-solution-to-fallout-76-power-armor-edition-bag-switch-crisis-is-atoms/

One person’s response to Bethesda’s 500 atoms compensation

- https://twitter.com/screencuisine/status/1067985020336230401

Antipodes Map

- https://www.antipodesmap.com/

Best place to make canvas bag

- https://www.aussiedisposals.com.au/military-and-hunting/packs-and-bags/tas-echelon-bag-40lt

Cost of Fallout 76 Power Armour Edition PC version in Australia

- https://ebgames.com.au/pc-231727-Fallout-76-Power-Armor-Edition-PC

Viral Neck Guy

- https://img.buzzfeed.com/buzzfeed-static/static/2014-02/campaign_images/webdr04/27/10/benedict-cumberbatchs-long-neck-is-your-new-favou-1-18869-1393513255-0_big.jpg

- https://www.unilad.co.uk/viral/someone-photoshopped-viral-neck-guy-without-his-big-fcking-neck/

Goku’s debut appearance at the 2018 Macy’s Thanksgiving parade and the internet’s reaction

- https://comicbook.com/anime/2018/11/22/dragon-ball-goku-macys-thanksgiving-parade-balloon-reaction-anime/

The Pikachu Army at New York

- https://mashable.com/2016/02/27/pikachu-new-york/

Shoutouts

NASA InSight probe land on Mars

- https://www.wired.com/story/mars-nasa-insight-touchdown-landing/

- Official press release - https://mars.nasa.gov/news/8392/nasa-insight-lander-arrives-on-martian-surface/

Rest in Peace Stephen Hillenburg, creator of SpongeBob SquarePants

- https://www.abc.net.au/news/2018-11-28/spongebob-squarepants-creator-stephen-hillenburg-dies/10560886

Famous Birthdays

27 Nov 1940 - Bruce Lee [Lee Jun-fan], Chinese-American martial artist and actor (Enter the Dragon), born in San Francisco, California - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bruce_Lee

27 Nov 1951 - Kathryn Bigelow, American director, producer and writer (The Hurt Locker, Zero Dark Thirty), born in San Carlos, California - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kathryn_Bigelow

27 Nov 1953 - Curtis Armstrong, American actor (Moonlighting, Revenge of the Nerds, Supernatural), born in Detroit, Michigan -https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Curtis_Armstrong

27 Nov 1955 - Bill Nye, science communicator, television presenter, and mechanical engineer (Bill Nye the Science Guy, Bill Nye Saves the World), born in Washington, D.C. - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bill_Nye

27 Nov 1963 - Fisher Stevens, American actor, director, and producer (Short Circuit, Hackers, The Cove), born in Chicago, Illinois - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fisher_Stevens

27 Nov 1983 – Professor Green, British rapper, singer, songwriter, actor, television personality from London and co-host of Lip Sync Battle UK, born in Hackney, London - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Professor_Green

28 Nov 1757 - William Blake, English poet and artist (Songs of Innocence & Experience), born in London, England - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Blake

28 Nov 1950 - Ed Harris, American actor (Right Stuff, Swing Shift, Walker, Coma), born in Englewood, New Jersey - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ed_Harris

28 Nov 1987 – Karen Gillan, Scottish actress, director, screenwriter and model (Doctor Who, Guardians of the Galaxy, Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, Avengers: Infinity War and Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle), born in Inverness, Scotland - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Karen_Gillan

Events of Interest

22 Nov 2013 - "Frozen", the highest-grossing animated film of all time, starring Idina Menzel and Kristen Bell, is released - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frozen_(2013_film)

27 Nov 8 BC - Roman Republican poet (Odes), dies at 56 - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Horace

27 Nov 1852 - Ada Lovelace, English mathematician considered the first computer programmer, dies of uterine cancer at 36 - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ada_Lovelace

27 Nov 1920 - "The Mask of Zorro" directed by Fred Niblo and starring Douglas Fairbanks is shown in New York - 1st American superhero film - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Mark_of_Zorro_(1920_film)

27 Nov 1924 – In New York City, the first Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade is held. - https://www.history.com/news/the-first-macys-thanksgiving-day-parade

27 Nov 1967 - The Beatles release their album "Magical Mystery Tour" - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magical_Mystery_Tour

27 Nov 1971 - The Soviet space program's Mars 2 orbiter releases a descent module. It malfunctions and crashes, but it is the first man-made object to reach the surface of Mars - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mars_2

27 Nov 1978 - Harvey Milk, first openly gay person to be elected to public office, assassinated by Dan White at 48. - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harvey_Milk

27 Nov 2014 – P.D [Phyllis Dorothy] James, Baroness James of Holland Park, English crime writer (Death in Holy Orders), dies at 94 - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/P._D._James

29 Nov 1972 – Atari releases Pong, the first commercially successful video game. - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pong

Intro

Artist – Goblins from Mars

Song Title –  Super Mario - Overworld Theme (GFM Trap Remix)

Song Link - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-GNMe6kF0j0&index=4&list=PLHmTsVREU3Ar1AJWkimkl6Pux3R5PB-QJ

Follow us on Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/NerdsAmalgamated/

Email - Nerds.Amalgamated@gmail.com

Twitter - https://twitter.com/NAmalgamated

Spotify - https://open.spotify.com/show/6Nux69rftdBeeEXwD8GXrS

iTunes - https://itunes.apple.com/au/podcast/top-shelf-nerds/id1347661094

RSS - http://www.thatsnotcanonproductions.com/topshelfnerdspodcast?format=rss

[nonopiimagines]

Fandom: Fallout: New Vegas: New California Pairing: Ben Kurtz x f!Star Player/f!Courier Warnings: n/a Word Count: 1747 Author Notes: I am most proud of this chapter. Go play New California, so good.

part iii.

Again, you felt so tired. Falling out of the sky, fighting alongside the NCR, being whisked away to Union City to celebrate, the subsequent retaliation of the raiders attacking the front gates.

You couldn't wait to sleep in a bed for once.

The rest of your companions headed to the hotel in Union City, just as eager for a break as you were. You stayed behind at the medical tent, Captain Jameson offered to bandage your wounds. As gruff as he had seemed mid-battle, he had lightened up significantly now that their gates were safe once again.

You lifted your arm as Jameson wound the clean bandage around a shallow knife wound from the battle earlier. “We could use more people like you, Y/N.”

A polite chuckle escaped your lips, followed by an equally expected smile. You didn't think about it, how you were socialized to always be nice and agreeable. It didn't matter who you were talking to, the Overseer, a caravan merchant, or someone who willingly represented a thoughtless government trying to recreate the sins of the past. You looked up at the older man, wondering if he ever thought he was on the right side.

Your eyes flicked to the front of the medical tent where Ben was watching your exchange. His face was set in a chronic frown, his dark eyes meeting yours for just a moment before he quietly turned and left the tent. You turned back to Jameson, a somber feeling coming over you.

---

Mission Palms was too good to be true. Large, immaculate homes were still intact and full of untouched supplies. The cazadores fended off most of the raiders and scavengers, but they couldn't keep you away.

You would stay the night there before heading south to Xiabula.

Something was pulling at your insides. You and your companions became closer over the last few weeks. Traveling the San Bernardino desert would do that to people. Digging through your bag, you found the last fresh carrots, potatoes, and pears from the vault. They would go bad soon but this also felt like a nice occasion to finish them. The last remaining children of the vault, enjoying the last vault meal they would have together.

You cooked the potatoes and carrots over a small fire you lit in the backyard and cut the pears into slices. Jamie and Kira were the first ones to dig in, then Eric (after making sure Jamie had enough), then you.

Ben was upstairs, gazing out the window. You remembered he said something about first watch. You felt like maybe it was an excuse. This new Ben was just as alone as the old Ben, though he didn't seem to realize he had the support of everyone, including you. Most of all, you. He could wax poetic about you leading them on this journey to find safety and maybe discover the truth about everyone's parents along the way, but he refused to let this relationship be reciprocated.

“It's getting cold.” You pushed a small plate of food onto the window sill, hoping the smell would waft up to Ben's nose. “Everyone said it was the best thing they've eaten in awhile.”

“I'm sure.” He gave it a brief look, seeming as if he were going to ignore it in favor of looking outside again. But after a moment, he used his hand to pop a carrot in his mouth.

You watched his jaw move up and down, his face not betraying his thoughts on the matter. You wondered if he missed the vault, if he missed the ignorance. He obviously thrived in this new environment, but he must remember the safety, the monotony, the easiness of the vault. Would he trade it for this life given what he knows now?

“Yeah, it's pretty good,” he admitted, though there was no surprise or praise in his voice. It was like he expected this outcome, he had no doubts your cooking was passable.

Feeling some amount of pride, you returned to the others. You talked for a time over a found bottle of whiskey, reminiscing about the vault, discussing what route to take tomorrow, wondering if the NCR would notice if your group never returned after restoring water to Union City. It was funny, none of you would've ever sat around a table drinking together even a month prior to this.

When it came time to turn in, Jamie offered to take first watch. After escaping the vault and the events that unfolded, she refused any alcohol offered. She kept saying, “when we win”, “when we're safe, really safe”, “maybe to celebrate the death of Elsdragon, that fucker.” You remember how delirious and tired and scared you were when you found out she could've warned you had she not been piss drunk. It didn't matter to you now, what's done was done. But you felt proud of her for seeing a problem and trying to fix it.

“I'd offer to share the queen bed with you, Y/N, but I'm a kicker.” Kira didn't look too sorry at her revelation, but she squeezed your shoulder anyway.

“And Jamie wouldn't like it if I slept next to someone else,” Eric chimed in, already laying his backpack down on the bottom bunk in the other room. “Besides, you deserve the big bed, Y/N.”

“Whatever, Eric,” you shook your head in defeat as you looked through the drawers of the dressers in the main bedroom. Most of the drawers were empty, but you found a baseball cap and mitt, a dirty tie, a ripped up dress. In one of the last drawers you found a real treasure. Giving a discrete glance over your shoulder to make sure everyone was occupied, you pulled out the sexy sleepwear. It looked almost untouched by the years and years of being stuck in a wooden tomb. You carefully folded it and stuffed in the bottom of your backpack just in time to see Ben walk up the stairs and into the room.

“Jamie's taking watch,” he informed, giving you a weird look for your position in the floor. He hesitated but must've decided he wasn't going to ask about it and turned to walk downstairs.

You scrambled up and tried to grab his arm, but he was too quick. You didn't want him to go and it bubbled up out of you, “Ben! Wait!”

He turned his head to look back toward you and you swore you saw a twinkle or some notion of something in his eye that emboldened you. “Where are you going?” Your voice was higher than normal, betraying what you thought was a calm demeanor.

“I'm going to rest my eyes on the couch downstairs.”

You looked at him as he said that, he had the same fatigue that the rest of you had. The bags under his eyes, the bloodshot whites, the slumped shoulders of someone who has been alert for far too long. You knew he didn't fully trust any of you, you knew he didn't ever sleep well, just so he could be ready if danger ever arose. You may be the shepherd but he was the sheepdog that protected the flock. But even he couldn't maintain this lifestyle for long.

So you appealed to the Ben you used to know.

“You took me to your room, but I never got to take you to mine.”

That intrigued him. He chuckled, a rare smile gracing his chapped lips. It was almost like no time had passed, nothing bad had happened, you were just continuing where you left off. But there was a bit more danger in his eyes, a darkness. At first you found it off-putting, but now you were beginning to understand this world and how everyone needed a bit of danger and darkness to survive. You could feel it seeping into you.

“Stay here. Sleep here.” You weren't going to beg him, but you wanted him to know that he was welcome.

He eventually nodded, coming back into the room, closing the door behind him.

--

You were wired. You tried not to think about the body behind you, the warmth it was giving off, how easy it would be to roll over and slide your arms around him. Sleep was supposed to come quickly and effortlessly after days like these. Your body was at the mercy of your mind and the stories it would weave about you and Ben.

You tried counting sheep or recalling the stack frames from the computer you hacked earlier today. You tried focusing on your breathing or the snores of Kira in the other room, but you found your ears trying to tune to Ben's breathing. Was he asleep? Was he suffering as you were? Did he ever intend to fall asleep? Is he faking it right now? Your ears strained, eventually finding the slow and steady breathing of the man next to you. At least he was finally resting.

You cautiously turned until you faced his naked back, seeing the rise and fall of his figure in the darkness. For some reason you expected him to be baby smooth like the rest of the children in the vault, but he had a patch of scars on his shoulder that dripped into his back. You couldn't tell if it was a weapon or perhaps a chemical burn. With a boldness you didn't expect, you carefully traced the edge of it with your fingers, trying to understand its existence just from the topography.

“You're playing with fire, Y/N.” A whisper, but it sounded so strong and clear. He hadn't been asleep at all.

But you didn't withdraw your hand. Instead you pressed your palm to it, feeling the tough rippled skin and the heat it emitted. You could feel him take a larger breath, followed by a slow, even exhale.

“We'll see if I get burned,” confidence oozed out of your response and you hoped he felt it too. You let your hand fall away from him and you rolled back over to face open air again, a small smile on your face.

[nonopiimagines]

Fandom: Fallout: New Vegas: New California Pairing: Ben Kurtz x f!Star Player/f!Courier Warnings: raiders and misogyny Word Count: 636 Author Notes: I wrote this as I was playing it, which is why it’s kind of choppy. And don’t get me started on Kira and her story. Ugh.

part ii.

You didn’t want to think anymore. The entire chain of events: the coup in the vault, the death of your siblings, escaping with everyone, guns and vertibirds and the smell of blood everywhere. And you ran and ran and ran, a small group of people following behind you. Ben was with them, but he wasn’t the Ben you knew. Or maybe you never knew Ben. Ben Kurtz.

Finally, the chaos ends. You explored cautiously, try to remain calm and collected, for some reason people looked up to you. For someone who was just made fun of for being bulldozed in a game of vaultball, it seemed strange that those same people were now looking to you for leadership. Ben was always there reinforcing it.

“You need to keep us together.”

So you said all you could, did all you could to make everyone feel as safe as they were able. Now you just wanted to sleep, but you could see Ben’s form leaning on the gaping doorway, looking down the path leading toward the road, always watching. He was so different now, even from just a few hours ago. You wondered if he remembered last night. Or perhaps his resurgence of old, forgotten memories came at an expense.

You rolled over and sighed. This was not worth thinking about. Nothing was worth thinking about. Just focus on the road ahead.

---

It was so dark and you were so angry. Juan Maxson-Elsdragon. Why couldn’t he just leave well enough alone?

You had to squash the fear down, it would do you no good here. Fear of never seeing the sun again. Fear of never finding your friends again. Fear of your story ending here, becoming part of the Voiceless. So you kept going, talking to the Voiceless, finding a way to defeat Shogath. All the while, Ben’s voice was in the back of your head, reminding you that you’re the leader, it’s your responsibility to keep everyone safe. And that started with getting out of here.

---

You weren’t sure if Mandrake’s assassination attempt was successful. You didn’t wait to find out and decided to find Kira first. Juan’s comments about her left you unsettled. Her body was slumped against the pole she was chained to, but she seemed conscious.

“Kira.”

Falling to your knees, you untied her, your eyes roaming over her body to see if she was hurt. She had bruises, a slave collar, and the distinct look of someone who was battered physically and emotionally.

“Why do they treat us so differently? We’re the same.” It was so quiet, her voice so broken. A little stronger, she continued, “I kicked the shit out of five of them and all they cared about was you. Information about you.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you just didn’t. Even the in the vault they treated you differently, though you were the same. Both girls, both smart, both interested in computers. So why why why did they treat you differently? You saw it in her eyes, the anger and frustration. You both knew you couldn’t help it, but she could only take it out on you, because you’re the only one who could see and understand. You were the only one to overcome her hardships.

You gave her some clothes you picked off a raider, a gun, and a stimpak. When she was ready, you looked at her, took her hand, and gave it a brief squeeze. A mixture of apology and empathy.

---

You stole the vertibird. It was miraculously easy. So, of course it would be shot out of the sky.

The last thing you saw was fear on all of their faces, even a brief flash of it on Ben’s face before it turned into a steely face of acceptance.

[nonopiimagines]

Fandom: Fallout: New Vegas: New California Pairing: Ben Kurtz x f!Star Player/f!Courier Warnings: n/a Word Count: 606 Author Notes: Another series! If you haven’t played New California, do it now! This story is based on my first play through as a scientist where I messed up the prologue quests and only saved Ben, Kira, Jamie, and Eric.

part i.

He seemed locked in his own mind, his eyes always following the lines of his pencil. Maybe that's why you had never really spoken to him. You were both locked away to some degree.

Dr. Rossman had put you to work despite your bum leg. It was merely chance that you were both tugged out toward each other. Something made Ben look up from his comic book to see you almost take a tumble down the stairs.

“No football for you either, huh?” he asked, immediately getting up and offering his hand to you.

You smiled. After all the shit you were given today, it felt nice to find someone who understood. “Evidently. Though, it may be a blessing in disguise.” You took his hand and he led you to the chair opposite from his at the table.

It didn't take you long to piece together Ben’s hobby, with issues of Grognak the Barbarian scattered across the table and the notebook filled with ideas and half- finished drawings. He seemed content to watch you thumb through whatever you wanted, even letting you see his sketches.

“You're really great, Ben.” You tried to look him in the eye, but he suddenly avoided your gaze.

“Thanks.” A pause lingered as he contemplated whether or not to continue. “I… there's more in my room, if you're interested.”

You couldn't tell if he was shy or just nervous to show someone more of himself, a place where only he had been allowed to go. Maybe Johnny Matheson messed you up worse than you thought, a sense of eagerness was blooming inside you.

“Of course. I'd love that.”

---

“You're lucky you have your own room. I have to share mine.”

You heard him chuckle behind you, the vibration traveling through his body and into yours as he guided you through the door. He stood close to you, but let go when you felt stable.

His paintings were vivid and evocative. Something about them felt so familiar. And the stories that inspired them sounded real, like the warped version of a memory. Ben's voice was calm as he recalled the plot of his comics to you, but you saw something in his eyes that betrayed truth. He lived this, in reality or in dreams you couldn't know.

You shuffled backward until your legs hit his bed, feeling the urge to sit down and stare at the painting of the Las Vegas skyline. Ben grabbed a separate sketch book from his desk before sitting next to you, your knees touching. You felt warm and safe, even the dull throb of your leg didn't bother you.

Flipping, flipping, flipping until he found sketches of a similar skyline as his painting. “I dream of this place a lot.”

You slowly flipped through the drawings, some more detailed than others. The space needle remained in every picture, like a beacon signaling that home was here.

“I want to go there with you. You make it look beautiful.”

Ben's eyes grew wide and his hands clutched the sharp corner of the notebook. Again, you turned your gaze toward him, trying to emphasize that you were serious. When he finally looked at you, a funny thing happened. It was a split-second decision that you were surprised came from him, but you weren't sorry. He pressed his lips to yours and you pressed back. You felt the notebook slide out of his grasp as he brought his hands to your face, kissing you again and again, small and sweet. 

[nonopiimagines]

Fandom: Fallout: New Vegas: New California Pairing: Ben Kurtz x f!Star Player/f!Courier Warnings: n/a Word Count: 1413 Author Notes: It’s a lonely world writing fic for a mod. It’s like, the rarest rarepair. 

part iv.

There was something special about gathering around a campfire with your companions. You wished it was under more relaxed circumstances but the conversation was important: restoring the water to Xiabula and by extension, to Union City.

“I don't expect it to be especially difficult, but there probably will be infected survivalists out there. We've got to be careful.” You looked everyone in the eyes, making sure they understood what that meant. Stay ranged, don't be a hero. It was easy to forget you were all still so young. This wasn't second nature yet.

When you were satisfied with their determined nods, you turned your head slightly to look at Ben as he talked to the animated Chief O’oga a few yards away. His arms were crossed but he looked genuinely interested in what the older man was saying. You hoped he was getting the answers he was looking for, he had waited so long for them whether he knew it or not.

You were getting more comfortable with being the leader of your small group and it was in no small part due to Ben always being there and backing your decisions. He was your confidant, you talked to him about everything and he always gave you honest answers. You talked to him about things you couldn't with the others because you feared they would lose faith in you, but he never did.

Jamie bumped your shoulder with hers, breaking your incessant staring. She offered a bottle of clean water and part of a loaf of bread that were being passed around. You thanked her with a smile and shoulder bump of your own.

“We better head out if we want to be back before sundown.” Everyone nodded in agreement, finishing their pieces of bread and grabbing their belongings.

---

It wasn't like you were particularly close to Dr. Rossman. But he was becoming someone to you, a symbol of right and wrong in the wasteland. His name kept popping up everywhere, he had such an impact on the surface, for better or worse. And knowing that he saved you and your companions made you feel indebted to him. In fact, he saved you twice. You wondered what you could've learned from him if he were still alive. You wondered why you didn't spend more time with him sooner. You wondered if you could live up to what he represented.

---

Clean water was restored with daylight to spare, but it didn't quite feel like a victory. You returned to Xiabula with a lot on your mind. You thought having a drink with Kira, Eric, and Jamie would ease the gravity of your thoughts, but it just made them slower and you suffered for longer through each sombering question you would ask yourself.

So you excused yourself early to the tent you, Kira, and Jamie were sharing, but instead hiked up one of the steep hills surrounding the community to sit near the windmill. The sun was setting and it felt like a good time to reflect so that you could move on and not weigh down your companions. You didn't want to be the one to miss a shot or walk into a trap or say something that gets you all in trouble. This was not the time to let emotional stress get to you.

It wasn't long after you sat yourself against the wall of the windmill that you heard the deliberate footsteps of someone coming up the path. You took a deep breath, ready to push these thoughts for another time.

“Y/N.”

Of course it was him. Ever since you got to Xiabula, you felt a distance grow between the two of you. Perhaps it was natural since he was spending so much time with Chief O’oga or perhaps it was your defense mechanism so it didn't hurt as much when he inevitably tells you he wants to stay with his tribe. But if there was ever a time you needed him and his calm, logical thinking, it was now.

“Hey, Ben.”

He sat down next to you, your shoulders barely touching. Like always, he was quiet, waiting for you to speak. He either knew you too well already or you were an open book because this wasn't this first time this exchange had happened.

So you just cut to the chase.

“Seeing the hologram of Rossman really put me over the edge. I already think about how we left him at the vault but seeing all the ways he's helped people up here...,” you paused, grasping for words but finding none to describe the push and pull of Rossman's shadow over you. You felt the fatigue from the day finally catching up to you, your thoughts slowing down. You just pushed forward, like you were beginning to become used to doing. “I'm afraid we can't live up to him. I feel like I didn't try hard enough to get him out of the vault with us. The world is a better place with him in it and I deprived everyone of that.”

Ben didn't say anything for a long time, he just looked at the people below. Some of them were sparring in the ravine, some of them were washing clothes or making dinner, and in the middle of it all were the rest your companions, still sharing a drink and talking about random things, occasionally laughing.

“You can't change the past, Y/N. You know that.” It wasn't a condescending statement, it was an acknowledgement of your capacity to understand the situation and not fall victim to dwelling on things in the past, though you teetered on the precipice of it. “We will do better than Rossman. He was always tied to Vault 18 and he couldn't escape it. But we can, we're free. We have the freedom to choose how we operate, no ghosts left behind to haunt us.”

“You talk like you're not staying here with your tribe.” You didn't mean to come outright and say it, but the more you thought about it, the more forwardness seemed like the better option for talking to Ben.

You expected a breadth of silence again, but you still looked at Ben expectantly. His face didn't change, but his eyes kept sweeping across the golden valley below. The sunlight was fading fast, but it was still strong enough to leave his face glowing, a warmth spreading across your skin as you felt like you never wanted this moment to end, you were afraid of his answer.

“Most of the California tribe doesn't remember me. They've carried on and so have I. They don't need me, but you do.” He still wasn't looking at you, just keeping forward as he divulged this information. “We're a tribe now.”

It was a bittersweet feeling. Even if Ben didn't admit it, you were sure he was excited to finally see his tribe again and bond with them after so long, after so much has happened. And then you get here and he finds that he's an outsider to them, just like the rest of you. It's normal to have great expectations for a homecoming years in the making. And it's normal that expectations get crushed under the weight of a post-apocalyptic wasteland. It made him seem younger to you, again being reminded that none of you were ever ready for this. But you were happy to have him with you. It felt selfish to admit it to yourself, but he was right when he said you needed him. You all need him. And though you wanted to comfort him in some way, you understood that he wasn't one to show his emotions, even to you. He would never want you to acknowledge it. So you just pushed your shoulder closer to him and said the one thing you wanted him to know, “You always have a place with us, Ben.”

Finally, he turned his intense gaze to you and just looked at you, like he was really taking you in and memorizing everything about you in that moment. You remembered kissing him in the vault and how that moment felt so similar to this one.