#not all canned peaches and marmalade

[justplainlovely]

“Feelin’ better, sweetheart?”

Based on a season 2 idea by @faembrosia. This did not turn out how I expected at all, but I enjoyed writing it anyway! Will probably become part of a longer fic in the future, paired with another idea I saw on here that I already have an outline for. Let me know if you like it and if you do I’d be happy to continue.

After leaving the observatory, Cooper decides that Lucy needs to break. He’s been there before and it’s better she do it now than on the trail with the most dangerous critters in the wasteland.

Cooper "The Ghoul" Howard x Lucy MacLean.

WARNINGS: Swearing, violence, blood lust

Count: 4,696 words

Cooper books it on the old 210, Dogmeat trotting along like the faithful canine she is... well, maybe not faithful. She stops every few minutes now to whine at the person taking up the rear. Behind him, the vaultie huffs and puffs as the sun begins to set. Useless smoothskins. Can't keep up for shit. Especially no okie-dokie-ass vault dweller. 

They moved nonstop from the Griffith at the crack of dawn. They had to. Coop was more preoccupied with tryin' to get away from the Brotherhood of Steel than he was in worrying about the current stamina of the woman a few paces behind him. It was his fault, of course, for mercing every one of them tin-can soldier boys and he knew they wouldn't take too kindly to anyone taking out their "well-protected", T-60-wearing knights, much less a ghoul. Much less the Ghoul. He grinned at the thought, imagining the mess that'd ensue if they did find him. Some sick part of him wished they would just for the thrill of a fight. Unfortunately, his ammo supply was cut in half during the shootout. He would have stocked up with what was leftover of the NCR’s stockpile, but timing necessitated a quick departure.

As he walks, Cooper's mind drifts back to his own struggles. He remembers the pain of his transformation, the loss of his daughter, and the desperate measures he took to survive. The memory of his cremello stallion, Sugarfoot, and the harsh decision took to end its life still lingered, a burning reminder of the rad-riddled earth he stalks.

He recalled escaping with his daughter on the horse, wrapping Janey's mouth and nose with the yellow handkerchief around his neck in the hopes that it would keep the particles away from her. That bomb was so close, and if protecting her was his one mistake, then he was happy to make it. He would make it again if it meant saving her from his fate. Of course, those times had worse pains than the idea of her succumbing. Being ripped away from her, being blocked from the Vault-Tec doors as his sweet baby girl shouted for her daddy, as she begged her mommy, was possibly the single worst heartbreaking moment of his life.

Cooper jolts to the present when he notices, out of the corner of his eye, that Lucy is now struggling to keep up. Her pace is slowing, and he can see the strain on her face as the sun dips lower into the sky. They were getting close enough, now, to Big Dalton Canyon and he knew those Brotherhood men wouldn't trek out this far. The array of radiated critters alone was enough to keep them at bay… radiated. Watching Lucy struggle with the rads was an aching reminder his own curse.

“Sir?"

Cooper's reverie is broken by Lucy's weak voice. He sighs and turns to face her.

"Sir... can we... can we stop... please… I’m…" she pauses, staring at him like a deer caught in the headlights. She should be right to look at him that way. Perhaps he had finally killed that too-trusting, too-green, sweet-as-pie thing she had going on. Then again… wasn’t that why he invited her along?

“I can’t…” she panted, “I..."

Cooper surveys the perimeter, spotting the tin roof of what was an old fire station just outside the trail. He looks back to the young woman, a sickly sheen across her forehead and the whites of her eyes bloodshot. He had been sharing with her whatever water and food he had, but the rads in the water were no doubt doing a number on her. It was why he didn't let her have much of it. He has exactly two bags of RadAway on him and they’ll likely need to use one before her symptoms get any worse. 

“Havin’ trouble keepin’ up, huh?” he says with a stupid smirk as he moves into her space.

Lucy frowns and shakes her head, "Sorry, sir. I... I know you're in a hurry... we're in a hurry... but... I…"

Before she can completely fall, Cooper moves fast and catches her by the waist. Dogmeat whines, licking Lucy's limp hand and sniffing the air for trouble. The shepard looks up at Cooper with those big ol’ puppy dog eyes.

“The fuck you lookin’ at me for? Scan.”

The dog immediately goes to work, her nose pressed to the ground as she scans the area for any signs of life. She barks and wags her tail, ears perked up, which he takes as a good sign. As he adjusts the vault dweller into his arms, he considers continuing further up the trail. The last time he traveled out this way there was a shack not far, perhaps 10 miles, from the mouth of Big Dalton. He can make it, for sure, but can she? Maybe. Only maybe. The risky part of going back down to the fire station’s the sheer size of the building. Anyone could be in there and it wouldn’t be smart for him to get ambushed while carrying 130-pound, radsick baggage. He sighs.

“C’mon, Dogmeat.” 

The dog lopes alongside him as he heads for the shack. Sure it’ll be a journey, but it beats the possibility of whatever could be there. Rad sickness be damned. He isn’t gonna get held up when he’s gotten this far. When he’s so close to the possibility of seeing his little girl again. He knows, staring down at the vault dweller in his arms as he goes deeper into the trail, that this is what Janey would want. What Barb would’ve done… if he knew her like he thought he did.

Though he dares not admit it aloud, he has a great deal of respect for the young woman he carries. Giving him those vials back at the Super Duper Mart when she so easily, and so justly, coulda shot his ass on sight and left him in the dirt in his puddle of drool and blood… she was not pretending when she professed the golden rule. And although it would get her into all kinds of trouble out here, does get her into all kinds of trouble out here, it’s almost a comfort to know that things aren’t completely lost. That some of the good from the old world still survives in her, even if it had vanished from everyone else.

────୨ৎ────

Lucy starts awake, her eyelids heavy as she registers her surroundings. She feels incredibly dizzy as it all floods back to her; the observatory, the murderous Hank MacLean, the Ghoul standing in the setting sun, Maximus on the ground, made unconscious by her father’s hand. The radiation sickness is enough, but she feels sick all over again just thinking about it. She had never felt so useless before. It wasn’t her thing. Back home, she was an enthusiastic, hard-working community member with a dedication to team building and tenacity that put even the oldest vault dwellers to shame. She was lauded, applauded - confident, intelligent, and kind. 

Up here, on the surface, these things mattered little and she found that out the hard way. Many times. She had several near-death experiences; fiends, ghouls, radroaches. She was also used as bait, had her finger cut off, was tied up and lassoed like an animal, and was sold to an organ dealership, all by the man… ghoul she was currently traveling with. Was she stupid for following him? For trusting again? Some part of her knows he’s right. 

Max’s friend Thaddeus had said that the Brotherhood of Steel was a “complicated organization”. By surface standards, she took that to mean that they were willing to do anything for their mission and, not knowing herself exactly what that mission was, she wasn’t so keen on finding out what would happen if she stayed behind. Part of her also wonders what her company had to say about her father. What unsettling secrets will come to light when he decides she’s ready to hear the information. 

At least when she travels with the Ghoul she has an idea of what to expect. Cruelty, snide remarks, sarcasm, belittling. But also honesty. He had never lied to her, at least, and that could be said for something. Her whole life had been a lie up until that point. But even though she has this, she still feels hollow.

She blinks rapidly when she hears the tiny screech of a critter, probably a roach, outside that brings her back to reality. A pinch in her arm that she looks down to follow to a drip bag of RadAway, a cough outside before she hears his inhaler puff. She peeks through the door of what she assesses as some kind of shack she sits in, a twin bed crammed in the corner with a rusted-out sink, no doubt useless, right beside it. Just outside the door, she sees the Ghoul toss a radroach into a battered can that sits in the middle of a fire he’d stoked. Lucy tries to get up from the bed, only for her foot to wobble underneath the weight of her leg. She falls back down, her eyes fluttering shut angrily, “Fudge…”

She wishes she could get up and help - prove herself, distract herself - but her legs are as strong as a fresh jello cake and she knows getting up would only cause more fuss. Better let him focus, as he had already wasted enough time taking care of her. 

The sweet shepherd scampers into the shack and sniffs at her RadAway drip sight, panting and whining happily when she realizes she’s okay. Lucy involuntarily smiles when the dog rests her head on her thigh and she gives the dog, which he called Dogmeat - an ugly name if she said so herself - a gentle pat on the head.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. The Ghoul opens the door fully and eyes her with that curious tilt she was all too accustomed to. However, she can’t quite tell if he’s studying her, mocking her, or trying to measure her up for dinner in case she gets sick again. She figures it best not to dwell on the “what-ifs” of this particular scenario.

“Thank you.” She whispers.

He raises a non existent eyebrow at her statement before taking another few steps forward. Dogmeat retreats to the other side of the shack, where a decrepit rocking chair sits on the other side of the rusted out sink, while the Ghoul lifts up the RadAway bag to inspect it, “Don’t mention it, darlin’.”

It’s almost empty, about a quarter of the way, when he decides she’s had enough and not so gently pulls the needle out of her forearm. 

“Ow!” She winces at the pressure and yanks her arm away. 

He smirks as she moves her hand to the hem of her tank, tucked below the top of her vault suit which had been tied at her waist, and tears off a strip. She ties it around her arm to cut the bleeding, all the while avoiding his eyes.

“Gotta ration these,” he says, lifting the RadAway bag, “It’ll be a few days 'fore we get to the nearest settlement. I ain’t got no real use for 'em, obviously. Woulda sold 'em, had ya stayed with yer lil white knight. Didn’t expect you’d be foolhardy enough to come with.”

Lucy scoffs, “You know… I didn’t exactly follow you for your astounding moral character or anything, so you can just…” she stops, thinking better of it. 

She wants to dig into him, to ‘tear him a new one’ as he might do to her, but stops herself. Her upbringing prevents her from that kind of vulgarity. Better yet, it’s best not to anger him when he so clearly holds the reigns in this situation. He could have easily left her to fend for herself after she fainted and she’s honestly not sure why he’d even bother to take care of her. She shakes her head in dismissal.

“‘I can just’ what, darlin’? C’mon now. Y’ain’t said much of nothin’ since we left the Griffith. Go ahead. I’m all ears.”

She has many questions. So many. How does you know my father? How can you track down people like this when there’s little physical evidence of them? You're looking for a family - how did you lose them if you're so good at this? When exactly did you turn into… what you are? Why are you such a son of a biscuit? Why does you look so familiar? He must decide that she takes too long, because then he brushes her off with one of his little grunts.

“Well,” he shrugs with a clap of his gloved hands, “the rad roach’ll be ready in a jiff. I usually don’t bother roastin’ ‘em, but with your smoothskin stomach ’n’ all… can’t be too careful.”

Lucy watches as he steps back outside and while she is not looking forward to their rad roach dinner she knows it beats the alternative. She noticed earlier he still had some of that “ass jerky” left and would rather nom the radiated soil on the ground than stoop to cannibalism. She’s not him yet. Not if she has anything to say about it. Though, the more she dwells on her vault upbringing, the more she thinks about her father and about what she told Max, the more she questions whether her vault’s existence, whether Reclamation Day, was a sham to begin with. And if it was, if it is… then what does that all mean for her? What does it leave her with?

She doesn’t want to think about it. Doesn’t want to become emotional on top of being the useless “vaultie" the Ghoul no doubt thinks she is. Lucy takes one cautious step off the earthy-smelling bed, Dogmeat crawls to her side from the other corner of the shack. The canine whines up at her and she gently scratches her behind the ears, earning a thump from her hind leg.

“Aww,” Lucy coos, “Do you like that, sweet canis familiaris?”

“Fuck kinda nerd speak is that?” Lucy turns her head to see him offering her a skewer stacked with meat. She cautiously accepts the offer, “‘Canis familiaris’"…  Why, darlin’, were you some kinda scientist down in them vaults?”

He takes a big bite of his meat and she blearily looks down at hers. 

Lucy scoffs, “I was a history teacher, thank you very much,” she takes a wary bite of the rad roach meat, grimacing when the robust, sticky taste hits her all at once, “All vault dwellers are given a thorough education of all subjects.”

He grunts, taking another bite of his roach flesh and tossing a piece to Dogmeat, who hungrily laps it up. Lucy’s tempted to throw her whole skewer down to the dog, but decides against it. The food will, hopefully, help to ease her stomach. Hopefully keep her occupied enough that she won’t think of all that she’s been through. That she won’t have to speak too much to the ghoul across from her and risk her already fragile grasp on sanity. He’s proven thus far to be an absolutely frustrating travel companion, if she could even call him such a thing. He was more like a reluctant guide.

And yet...

“Sweetheart?” he sing-speaks, breaking through her reverie, “Ya just gonna stare through me like that, or are ya gonna finish your meat?”

Lucy shakes her head. “Here,” she says, holding out the skewer, “I’m not that hungry, anyway.”

The Ghoul glances down at her hand, then her eyes, before reaching out and taking back the flesh he’d procured. She felt bad for only eating half of it, she was thin enough as it was, but she simply couldn’t stomach another bite. It wasn’t the worst thing she had put in her mouth on the surface by far, but one more bite and all of it would be on the floor.

He drops the rest of her meat onto the ground where Dogmeat feasts. Lucy turns her eyes to avoid the sight, suddenly feeling more queasy than she already was. She hears him set the now empty skewers on a hook and, out of the corner of her eye, catches sight of his hand going to his belt buckle and scrambles for the corner.

“Relax, won’t ya? Just gonna go take care of that fire.”

He turns around and heads in the direction of the fire pit he’d crafted - putting it out, as he said. Perhaps he isn’t all bad. Gruff, crude, disgusting at times, but not completely evil. She hopes her assessment isn’t off, hopes that she’s not completely “foolhardy” in deciding to follow him, even if he is her best shot at her father. She suspects he invited her for a similar reason.

────୨ৎ────

The following days had Cooper trudging them further east. The first day had seen them making it up to Nealey’s Corner where they slept outside, taking shifts to watch the camp. He’d gone first, letting the girl get some rest. It seemed to be all she could do these days; fulfill the basic biological functions, as she might say. He understood well, better than anyone, probably, what she was currently going through. He went through much of the same with Barb when he heard her speak about the bombs, so casually suggesting in that Vault-Tec meeting with those morally bankrupt higher-ups that they drop them to ensure results. To guarantee that the end of the world was in their control. He remembered how cold he felt then and the rage that swallowed him up in the time following… and this little killer hadn’t even had her blow up yet. He’d have to make sure to fix that.

The second day was met with more silence. She stayed glued to his side, standing at attention only when the wasteland greeted them with vile little critters looking for a meal, mostly rad scorpions and serpents in these parts, but they would reach the Mojave outpost in another four days, the Long 15 in a little over two, and it was crucial that she get over whatever the fuck she was going through before they get to deathclaw territory. She could hold her own against the scorpions and serpents, sure, but what they were soon coming up against was another beast entirely that had even ghouls like him frightened out of their wits.

That night, they set up camp in what seemed a long-since abandoned mechanic’s shop outside Summit Terrace, miles ahead of the Long 15. They roasted some rad scorp meat for dinner as Dogmeat crunched on a radroach just outside their temporary shelter, tail swishing through the soil. Cooper put out the fire with a dirt kick just as Lucy had taken the skewers off the now extinguished pit. They ate in silence, the crunch of the dog gnawing on grubs the only sound cutting through. Cooper gnawed on a skewer absentmindedly, eyes flicking between Lucy and the darkened wasteland outside. Even the mutt seemed to sense the tension.

It had been too long like this—Lucy, silent and sullen, her gaze distant. She followed orders, killed when necessary, but something was off. Cooper could see it in the way her hands shook, how her eyes would glaze over whenever her ghosts crept up on her. The kid was slipping, losing her edge, and they were running out of time before deathclaw territory swallowed them whole. He wasn’t about to drag dead weight.

He takes another bite and eyes her, deciding it's time to poke the hornet's nest.

“Well, well, well. Looks like someone’s lost their fire,” he drawls, breaking the silence with a forced grin, “How's it hangin', lil’ Miss Sunshine? You done with your vow of silence yet?”

Lucy doesn’t respond. She just stares at the snuffed out fire pit, her eyes dim, the muscles in her jaw twitching.

Cooper scoffs, tossing his now empty skewer aside. “C’mon, kid,” he grins, “Where’s that Vault-Tec initiative? Y’ain’t gonna make it to the Long 15 like this. Didn’t ol’ daddy MacLean raise you better?”

Still nothing. Her fingers tighten around the skewer she's holding, but her eyes don’t lift.

The ghoul leans back against the rusted bench and smirks, stretching his legs out. “Ah, I see,” he says with a chuckle. “You're missin’ your knight in shinin’ armor. That it? Can’t handle this big ol’ world without someone holdin’ yer hand, huh? I bet he’d have a good laugh seein’ you like this.”

That got her. Lucy’s eyes flick up, a flash of fire in them, but she chews her cheek and says nothing. Cooper grins, sensing the crack in her armor.

“There y’are,” he says, his tone sharper. “Look at you. All that Vault-Tec trainin' and you could barely handle a few rad scorps.”

He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, voice lowering. “'Haps you’re scared. Just a lil thing out of her depth... ’S’that it, sweetheart? Ya know I'd be happy to hold your hand...”

Her grip on the skewer tightens, knuckles going white. She still doesn’t speak, but Cooper can see the cracks multiplying. Good. He needed to push harder. Just one more—

“Or maybe…” he let the words drag out, his grin fading. “you’re afraid of becoming just like him. Destroying everything in your path, just like he did. Is that what’s eatin’ at ya, sugar? Are ya scared you’re turnin’ into him?”

The skewer snaps in her hand, and Lucy's on her feet, glaring at him with eyes full of rage.

“Shut up.”

“Now we’re talkin’!” Cooper cheers, his grin widening as he stands slowly, wiping dirt off his gloved hands. “Finally, that spunk! Tell me I’m wrong. Or better yet, show me.”

Lucy’s hands tremble at her sides, her breath coming fast, her face twisting in fury. “I said - be quiet!”

“You’re almost there,” Cooper taunts, stepping toward her. “Go ahead, pumpkin, let it out. We both know you need this. You’re angry, and that’s good. But if you don’t deal with it now, it’ll get ya killed. And I’m not going to let that happen.”

“Stop it!” Lucy’s voice cracks, and she shoves him hard in the chest. Cooper stumbles back but catches himself, laughing darkly.

“Yeehaw!” he shouted, stepping right back into her face. “You wanna fight? Then fight. Prove to me you’re more than a useless vaultie.”

That's all it takes. Lucy roars, tackling him to the ground, fists flying. Yes! Cooper quickly flips them over so she’s on her back, but it isn’t for long. She’s flexible, something he wasn’t aware of. She turns at the waist, legs wrap against his side, and she throws him off seamlessly. Lucy’s onto her feet and he grins, jumping up to his. 

"Ooo…" Cooper tosses off the tattered remnants of his duster and grins, “Kitty got claws!”

She screams, pushing him back up against the rusted remains of an Oldsmobile. He unsheathes his hunting knife, not with the intent to use it, and grazes her collarbone, exercising the softest pressure. Dogmeat takes interest now, whining at the pair of them, but Cooper shoos her away with the wave of his hand. 

The distraction is enough because Lucy has his knife and she's about ready to press down on his jugular, “How dare you suggest that I’m anything like him! I could… I could never do something like that!”

“Oh, no?” He says with a smirk, swatting the knife from her hand, “Maybe I haven’t pushed ya hard enough yet.”

Cooper shoves her off of him, backing her up against the bench. Lucy shouts and kicks him in the chest, he stumbles backward. She rushes for his knife again, but he’s faster and he tumbles her to the ground. She yelps as her back hits the sand-covered pavement, nicking the side of her head slightly, drawing a little bit of blood, and that’s when the rage festers in her pretty, doe eyes.

Lucy goes for the same move, her hips writhing to the side this time to be met with his thighs squeezing her like a vice. Panting, she wraps her arms around his neck and pushes as hard as she can. It’s not enough to move him, but it’s enough to catch him off guard and she slips out from underneath him, back onto her feet again. She steps on his back with one booted foot and stares down at him. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a little turned on by this point.

“Well, sweetie, I guess ya got me.” 

She smirks something evil and that’s when he springs to action again. Cooper yanks her calf, sending her on a forward tumble and into the sexiest floor routine he’s ever seen. She sticks her landing and turns around, the fire still in her eyes.

“Gotta say, kid,” he spits, “you got spirit.”

“Fuck you!”

She rushes him and he takes in her posture, slightly off balance on her right leg, her left arm coming in for a punch, and he quickly sweeps his foot, knocking her onto her side. She whimpers, but before she can get back up he surrounds her again. Another miscalculation, she’s right next to his discarded hunting knife and she grabs it from the ground, pressing it against his throat.

“What if I did it, huh? Would you stitch back up just like those other ghouls?”

“I dunno, sugar. Ya got the gumption to find out?”

She presses slightly, drawing some blood, but he moves fast, yanking her arm aside and curling her up. Lucy breaks free again, bounding away from him with the knife. Cooper moves in a fluid motion, knocking her slightly off balance with a kick of his boot, taking his knife back, and sheathing the weapon. She growls and he finds himself with his back up against the Oldsmobile again, his smile widening as she wraps her hands around his neck. He lets himself relish what’s become of her. He’s responsible for this, at least a little, and it feels good knowing she’s finally exhibiting that potential. That she’s embracing the little killer she could be in these wastes.

Cooper doesn’t let her go too far, though. He sees the exhaustion in her movements, the way her blows lack the bite they had before. The flame is flickering out. He takes advantage, sweeping her leg out from under her and sending her tumbling hard against the opposite wall.

She tries to fight back, but the fight is drained out of her. Her eyelids flutter with the weight of it all—adrenaline running dry, muscles no doubt aching, and her mind cracking under the pressure of all that had happened. Cooper pins her against the wall, not too rough, but firm enough to make her understand that the game is over. They are done here.

She glares up at him, defiant, hazel eyes smoldering, refusing to give in. Her breath comes in quick, shallow bursts and their mouths are close enough that he can feel her warmth ghosting over his face, close enough to share the same air as it brushes up to the cavity in his face where his nose used to be. He schools his expression, tired himself by the time they wrap up.

As he looks into her eyes, something shifts inside him. He sees the same desperation and pain he had felt so many times before. The same fear of losing everything. He holds her there a moment, the only sound the now quiet breathing between them.

“Feelin’ better, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

Tears. Silent, at first. Then they come in waves, rolling down her cheeks. Cooper loosens his grip on her wrists. His face softens further, and he gently helps her stand up, supporting her as she sways. He had seen this kind of breakdown before. Hell, he’d had his own more times than he cared to count. She needed this. He needed to be there for it. He’d wished someone had been there for his.

[missalinka007]

ain't all canned peaches and marmalade left up here, sweetheart

[ohmovie]

Well, Lucy MacLean, it ain't all canned peaches and marmalade left up here, sweetheart.

[hsrblake]

Cooper Howard qotues

Why, is this an Amish production of The Count of Monte Cristo or... just the weirdest circle jerk I've ever been invited to?" – The Ghoul after being awoken

"Well, what makes you think I'd give a good goddamn about that?" – The Ghoul to Honcho about a bounty

"Well, I tell you what, boys, whenever somebody says... ...they're doing one last job, that usually means their heart's not in it. Probably never was. But for me, well... I do this shit for the love of the game." – The Ghoul to the bounty hunters

"You right, friend, about one thing. This right here was your last job. My paycheck wasn't quite what you expected, but... well, you know what they say. Us cowpokes... ...we take it as it comes." – The Ghoul while murdering Honcho

"Now, last night a bounty came in through all six agencies. A hefty price on the head of a man that fits the description of that fella right there. Now, I may not know much, but I do know a bidding war when I see one." – The Ghoul about the bounty for Dr. Wilzig

"Well, now, that is a very small drop in a very, very large bucket of drugs." – The Ghoul after being shot at by Lucy

"You got to be fucking kidding me." – The Ghoul after seeing Maximus' arrival

"Well, I'd say come up here and get me, but... it's hard to walk upstairs when you're wearing a 12-piece cast-iron skillet set." – The Ghoul to Maximus.

"Well, I guess basic training ain't what it used to be. 'Cause you drive that thing like a fucking shopping cart. Rule number one: read the manual." – The Ghoul taunting Maximus

"Yeah, well, the Wasteland's got its own golden rule. [...] Thou shalt get sidetracked by bullshit every goddamn time."

"Well, Lucy MacLean, it ain't all canned peaches and marmalade left up here, sweetheart. Sometimes a fella's got to eat a fella." – The Ghoul while harvesting Roger's remains

"I'll bet that outfit makes y'all fell like a big man, don't it? Well, I know 'cause, well I used to wear one back in the day. There was only one problem with it. There was a flaw in the welding just below the chest plate. I wonder if they fixed that in this new model? I guess not." – The Ghoul confronting the Brotherhood.

"Oh, you want another autograph, young Henry? Feo, fuerte y formal." – The Ghoul to Hank MacLean.

"When your daughter said her last name was MacLean, well, I just couldn't believe it was the MacLean. Hell, this kid used to pick up my wife's dry cleaning. Now, I've waited over 200 years to ask somebody one question. Where's my fucking family?" – The Ghoul confronting Hank MacLean.

"War never changes. You look out at this Wasteland, looks like chaos. But there's always somebody behind the wheel. And that's who I want to talk to. That's where your daddy is headed." – The Ghoul to Lucy Maclean.

John Hancock quotes

Of the people, for the people."

"Plenty of folks wanna make life hard for people just tryin' to survive. I'm not willing to stand for that kinda shit."

"What kind of settlement requires a test for entry?" – Referring to Covenant.

"Whoa, the Downs. Hope we're not going anywhere for a while." – Referring to Easy City Downs.

"That kinda bull is the reason I became mayor in the first place." – Referring to The Big Dig

"Damn. Hey, look, if you wanna get outta here..." – If taken to Nate/Nora's corpse in Vault 111.

"If someone needs help, we help 'em. If someone needs hurting, we hurt 'em. It's not hard."

"Like it? I think it gives me a sexy, king of the zombies kinda look. Big hit with the ladies."

"Hey, does that play "Red Menace?" Love that damn game." – Accessing a terminal

"Looks like you can use a little pick me up." – Said when initiating dialogue with him as a companion (and him giving the player character a random chem)

"Whoa ho ho, I like you already! Walk into a new place, make a show of dominance. Nice." – referring to the Sole Survivor killing Finn

"Listen close. It's the last thing you're ever gonna hear." – When Sinjin tells the player character to stop speaking as The Silver Shroud

"Christ, it's bright in here. Clearly they didn't consider some folks might be nursing hangovers. " – Possible comment when entering Vault 81.

If completing The Big Dig with Bobbi No-Nose:

"How you doin' killer? Arms tired from all that digging? You know, my strongroom is surprisingly empty now..."

"Now if it was just the money, I'd rough you up, break a few bones, and then we'd be square once you paid me back. But you killed Fahrenheit. That means blood for blood."

When traveling naked:

"Hey Emperor, love the outfit."

"Let them stare."

"Don't mind me, just enjoying the view"

When committing Cannibalism:

"Suppose they're...beyond caring at this point"

"You...you do what you gotta"

"That one...all yours"

"At least you have the politeness to wait til they're dead"

When using chems:

"Two a day, keep reality at bay."

"Lean back and enjoy the ride."

"That's a good one, take it all in."

"Never trip alone."

When getting Addiction:

"You feel as bad as you look?"

"Wow, how much did you take?"

"'ay, you should slow down, and that's ME saying that"

When not responding while talking with him:

"Did I say something wrong?"

"You wanna talk? Make me a little nervous over here."

"What gives? I thought we were talking."

"Did your chems just kick in or something?"

"Like talking to a brick wall."

"Hmm, lights are on but no one's home."

"What? Mole rat got your tongue?"

"Uhm... You alright?"

"You check out on me?"

"Anybody in there?"

"That's right. Take it all in

After committing to a close relationship

"Words don't begin to do it justice. You, you're the best thing I got."

"Guess you're the piece I'd always missing...that and that toe I still can't find..."

"It's like I found a part of myself I never realized was missing... which happens sometimes when you're a ghoul."

"Nothing to lose but each other."

"Moments like this, I know all that karma stuff is bull. Because no one like me should be this lucky."

"You sure you wanna be stuck with this ugly mug?"

When Lover's Embrace is activated:

"Morning, sunshine."

"Well look at you. I must still be dreamin'..."

"Don't mind me... just enjoying the view."

Upon picking up junk:

"Careful! You don't know where that's been."

"That actually worth something?"

"If anybody could find a use for that."

Upon looting a corpse:

"Time to collect."

"To the living, go the spoils."

When the Brotherhood of Steel arrives in the Commonwealth:

"Holy shit." – When witnessing the Prydwen's arrival.

"Brotherhood knows how to make an entrance. I'll give 'em that." – When commenting on the Brotherhood

Cooper Howard VS John Hancock quotes these two has some good quotes it's hard to pick one for me I say both anyways you can use these for Headcannons, Edits, Memes, and so on I just put these here so it's easier for some people to use them I also tag people if your interested talk in the messages there open I have so many things I want to make but the next one is going to get Cooper Howard and John Hancock with Serena I was thinking doing a Picture Edit with some quotes and yes I do requests too.

[widovv]

not all canned peaches & marmalade playlist for lucy & the ghoul en route to new vegas

{ spotify }

[zackthebrownartanddesign]

"It ain't all canned peaches and marmalade left up here, sweetheart. Sometimes a fella's got to eat a fella."

[noonaishere]

Online/Offline [C.S] - forty-six | intelligent pants

“Hi, can I get a Green Tea Frappe, a Peach Iced Tea, and an iced Americano with vanilla syrup?” The customer, a young woman, asked.

“Yes,” Minsoo said as she punched the order into the register screen.

You watched as she got the cups and started putting the drinks together, and then dumped the Americano all over the counter and floor.

“I bumped into it!” She yelled quietly.

“It’s fine, I’ll remake it, just tell Wooyoung what happened so he can show you where the cleaning supplies are, in the back.”

She nodded and hurried away, stepping around the spill.

“Sorry about that,” you apologized to the customer.

She smiled. “It’s fine, accidents happen.”

You brewed the espresso and put the replacement Americano together and started on the Green Tea Frappe. Minsoo came out of the back and started cleaning up the spill.

“You’re making that for me too?”

“Sure, you have to clean so why not?”

“But now you’re doing everything, y/n.”

“I’m not cleaning,” you chuckled.

She made a noise that sounded like a worried whine as she cleaned as fast as she could. “Can I do the Peach Tea at least?”

“Sure, go wash your hands.” She threw the paper towels into the garbage and ran to the back to wash her hands and came running back out a few seconds later.

“Be careful.” You warned her. “You didn’t dry the floor all the way.”

She slowed her stride. “Um, how do I make a Peach Tea again?”

“Peach syrup, ice, tea’s in the fridge.” You said gently as you emptied the frappe into the cup.

She nodded and put the drink together, mixing it quickly.

You watched her out of the corner of your eye as you put the drinks in the drink carrier. “Don’t move too fast, you might spill it.”

“Oh-- yeah, sorry.” 

“You don’t have to apologize, just be careful.”

She nodded and exhaled a moment and slowed down. She got the lid and put it on the cup and then put the cup sleeve on and handed you the drink.

You handed it to the customer. “Here you are. Have a nice day.” “Thank you.” She smiled and left the counter, revealing another customer, a man, who had been waiting behind her.

“You help customers and I’ll mop the floor, okay?”

“Okay,” Minsoo nodded and took the spot you had been standing in.

You tested the edge of the spill with your foot and confirmed what you expected: the sugar in the syrup was drying and making the floor sticky. You went to the kitchen and got the mop and rolling bucket and came back to the front to clean the spot.

Minsoo was making what the customer had ordered; what appeared to be an iced americano. She seemed to have finally shaken off her nervousness brought on by spilling the Americano, and was moving slower and more deliberately than before. You smiled to yourself; at least she wasn’t freaking out anymore.

You felt eyes on you and turned, expecting that maybe it was Seonghwa or maybe San had come in early, only to find the customer Minsoo was helping looking right at you. You looked

behind you, wondering if maybe he had zoned out looking at the wall, but he didn’t seem to have the glazed-over look of someone lost in their own thoughts. No, he was looking straight at you.

You cleared your throat and turned away from the counter and mopped the sticky floor quickly. You weren’t sure if you did a good job, but you could still feel his eyes on you and so you took the mop and bucket back to the kitchen. You dumped the bucket out and hung the mop up to dry and found yourself not wanting to go back to the counter. 

“Umm…” you looked around for something to do. A pointless vocalization as Wooyoung had earbuds in his ears and was singing to himself quietly as he mixed dough. “Ah!” You saw that the jar of blood orange marmalade you used to make sodas was running low earlier, you could make more.

You took the oranges out of the fridge, got a cutting board, knife, and jar and set about slicing them up nicely.

“Oh! You’re back here.” Minsoo said as she leaned in the doorway.

“Yeah… we only had the one customer and we’re low on marmalade so I figured I’d make more before I leave.”

She nodded. “Thank you for cleaning the floor for me. And I’m sorry for freaking out.”

“Hey, it’s no problem. And I think you just need to take a breath when stuff like that happens and not let your emotions carry you away with them.”

She thought for a second and nodded, smiling. “Yeah, I’m not very good at that. I’ll be sure to work on it in the future.”

You smiled.

“I’ll get back to the front and let you cut things.”

You nodded, “Holler if you need me.”

She nodded and left.

About a half hour later you were done slicing oranges, had dumped them into the jar and covered them with sugar, screwed the lid on and put it on the shelf with the others. You washed the cutting board and knife and put them away and looked at the clock. You still had five minutes before you had to leave. 

You peeked out the kitchen door to see if that customer was still around and, finding him gone and no other customers around, went to the counter to make yourself a boba tea to take home. You took out the ingredients and then shoveled double the amount of boba into a large to-go cup.

“Are you sure you have enough?” San asked.

You jumped, startled because you didn’t know he was next to you, nevermind in the café already. “Jesus! Warn a body, will you?”

He laughed. “Who’s that for?”

“Me. And don’t worry, I’m paying for the extra boba.”

He watched you as you finished making it: more sugar syrup than was probably good for a person, three cubes of ice, and the milk tea.

“I can’t believe you make it like that.”

“What? ‘More boba, less ice’ is my family motto going back generations and generations. It’s the only way to live, really.”

He laughed again and raised an eyebrow. “‘Generations’?”

“My great-great-great-great-grandmother, Granny Boba, invented tapioca pearls you see. One day, after just turning some tapioca root into flour, she was relaxing by the sea. As she walked along the beach, she saw an oyster and decided to open it--”

“And there was a pearl inside?” He asked as he watched you with a wry smile.

You put the lid on the cup and started the process of ringing yourself up at the register and moved so he could see what you were doing on the screen. He nodded.

“Of course, where the hell else do you think pearls are? The forest? And that’s how she got the idea. She was like, ‘Well, I can’t make real pearls, so what if I make pearls out of tapioca and sell those? I’d make a killing at all the gaming parlors!’”

“Because computers didn’t exist and there were no internet cafés yet?”

“Because computers didn’t exist and there were no internet cafés yet! San, you figured it out, you smart little smarty-pants.” You reached around the register’s screen and tapped your card against the reader, finishing the transaction.

He laughed and shook his head.

“Intelligent pants.” You said to no one in particular as you left to get your things. You picked up your drink and sipped it, chewing on the pearls. “Alright, cowpoke, I’ll see you on the flip.” You saluted him.

He saluted back. “Okay… Tex?”

You snorted. “Nice.”

    previous | main cast | masterlist | next

Send an ask or leave a comment if you want to be added to the tag list! 🧋

rachs-words •

[ask-my-stupid-ocs]

Wow I have so many OCs I needed TWO pictures.

yeah, ask away! I have refs for some of them down below!

Rules:

No NSFW, a minor runs this blog

you can be mean to these guys ofc, just try not to be mean to the person running this blog XD

Inappropriate jokes are fine, but id like to ask if you refrain from doing them with Rigel, Peach, and 26 (they are all minors)

Monochrome and Rigel originally belonged to my friend @keedster, so all credit goes to them!

No gore/graphic violence descriptions, please.

yes Jim is kind of a joke character but whatever i love them dearly

Thank youuu!

Ref sheets (more coming along the way!)

Pronouns for the characters :3

Sunbeam: he/him

Red: he/him

Amethyst: he/him

Monochrome: he/they

Rigel: they/them

Peach: they/them

Emerald: she/her

Marmalade: she/they

Jim: they/them

26: they/them

[justplainlovely]

A teaser for chapters to come

I thought this was gonna be part of chapter 5, but the “seduction” section alone was around 2000 words so it’ll probably be chapter 7.

I spent a long time thinking about what I might want to hear in her shoes and what makes consent sexy.

And Coop? I feel like he’d definitely put it in a way that perfectly stops her in her tracks. He’s a lingerer. Prefer’s to take his time if he can.

[spikedsoul]

Peach, Daisy, and Marmalade are hanging out on the beaches of Isle Delfino. (Wether their respective S/Os brought them there for vacation or they're having a girl's day/night is up to you.) And as they're sitting on the beach, chatting, Clorox fits a whole popsicle in her mouth. No gagging, doesn't even flinch or hesitate, just straight up deep throats it. Peach and Daisy look on in shocked horror as Tide Pod raises a brow in confusion, pulls out the pop, and asks what's wrong. They avoid eye contact with both her and Bowser for a while after that.

Javelina: it's too damn hot

Daisy, holding out a box to Peach and Jayden: don't worry, I got us popsicles!

Peach: thanks, Daisy! Always thinking head for the girls' trips!

Daisy: well, we all deal with so many boys I figured it would be a nice br.... uh. Catherine?

Margaret, glancing over at them with a whole popsicle stuck down her throat without gagging: ??

Daisy and Peach: 😳😳😳

And then Peach and Daisy quietly make bets about the biggest item she can get down her throat...

[lagingersnapz]

Some Rain Must Fall - (Fallout Fic) Chapter 9: Punishing Road

Chapter: 9/?

In the past, the Ghoul does his best to continue pushing Lucy towards her breaking point.

In the future, a fresh tragedy on the road takes the group of survivors by surprise.

Characters: Lucy MacLean/Cooper Howard(The Ghoul), Dogmeat(CX-404), Original Characters

Word Count: 5817

Warnings: Violence, Swearing, Death

Author's Note: If I remember right, this is the longest chapter of the fic so far, so brace yourselves. Gonna be a few deaths in this chapter, so I'm sorry about that. Kinda. I saw a few of the people that liked the fic posts on here had gone over to Ao3 and gave me kudos over there. Thank you so much. I honestly didn't think anyone would be interested enough to move to the other site to keep reading, so I am incredibly grateful for that. I hope you continue to enjoy.

Previous Next

Ao3

~~~

Even though Lucy knew what she was seeing, her brain was having a hard time processing it. One minute Roger had still been there, about to share a memory about his mother with her, and the next he was a lifeless pile in the sand. Before she could even finish taking in that information, the Ghoul had holstered his gun again and trudged over, grabbing Roger’s corpse and rolling it on its back.

Lucy’s mouth opened and closed a few times as she struggled to find words. “Wh-why’d you do that? He was sick!”

The Ghoul didn’t seem to pay her any attention, taking off his hat and plopping it down on a nearby stool so he could work easier. He was panting a little from flipping over the body, but didn’t stop him as he pulled out a few tools from his saddlebags and went to work checking the corpse. In Roger’s mouth he must have found something worth his time, because he took a set of pliers and with a sharp grunt he yanked out a tooth.

“Stop. Stop! Stop, please. I-” Words continued to fail Lucy as she watched the Ghoul turn the body over again so it was laying on its stomach, and he pulled up the shirt on its back, revealing the weathered, strange looking skin. “Now, I know it’s hard up here, but you don’t have to resort t-to-”

“What’d you say your name was?” The Ghoul paused long enough to cut her off.

“Lucy MacLean.” There was still pride in her voice. Whether the name meant anything to this surfacer, it still meant something to her, and saying it out loud reminded her of who had taught her the morals she was so adamantly holding to.

Now the Ghoul looked fully over his shoulder at her, and she could read a slight look of confusion on his face. “MacLean?” he asked.

Lucy couldn’t imagine why he might know the name, but somehow he seemed to. She nodded her head, a look of uneasy confusion twisting her mouth into a deeper frown.

“Huh.” He looked at her a moment longer, then sighed and turned back to Roger’s corpse. “Well, Lucy MacLean, it ain’t all canned peaches and marmalade left up here, Sweetheart.” He pulled out a knife and started cutting into the body. “Sometimes, a fella’s gotta eat a fella.” The Ghoul pulled away a strip of flesh, which squelched in a way that made Lucy’s stomach seize violently. Then he started sucking on it, humming in apparent approval like it was a Thanksgiving turkey.

Lucy gagged and looked away, trying to get her stomach back under control before she lost what little she had in it, while the sounds of eating continued from the Ghoul. How could she make him understand? Lucy was no stranger to difficult circumstances, but to resort to cannibalism?

“You know, my vault has endured hardship, too.” She focused her gaze back on him, refusing to look away again. “In the Great Plague of ‘77, everyone had to quarantine, they couldn’t work the farms together. People starved.” Her eyes dropped to the floor as she remembered the difficult time. “My mother included.” With a helpless shrug she struggled on. “My dad dropped to 128 pounds, and he still refused to do anything like this.”

To her disbelief, the Ghoul started laughing.

“What? What’s so funny?” That he could be laughing at her as she told him about one of the most difficult periods in the history of her vault made Lucy’s fear start morphing into frustration and anger.

The Ghoul paused his butchering to speak again. “Well, there’s what people say they did,” he looked at her again, “and what they really did.” He turned back to his task. “Well, I bet your daddy was first in line at the cook-out. I bet he had a bib with a drawing of his neighbor’s ass on there.”

Insults to herself were bad enough, but hearing the Ghoul insult her father was a step too far. “How do you live like this?” she asked, voice cold. “Why keep going?”

The sounds of cutting and flesh tearing stopped, and for a second Lucy wondered if she might have gotten through to him about how horrible what he was doing was. Then he stood up, turning to fully face her, and she saw from the look in his eyes that she certainly hadn’t done anything but make him angry. Not that that seemed to take much.

He started to stalk towards her. “Well, one good question deserves another.” Holding up the blade in his hand, a sick smile twisted over his mouth, and Lucy fell back a step. “Why the fuck am I doing all the work? Now, come on, Vaultie. Ass jerky don’t make itself.” He turned the blade a little in his grip so the blood on it shone in the dim light filtering through the shattered window panes of the room.

Lucy’s gaze darted between the knife and the Ghoul’s sunken eyes, but she couldn’t find any hint that he was joking. Of course he wasn’t. Why would he joke about something like this? Finally, when it became apparent that he wasn’t going to budge, Lucy reached out with her bound hands and took the knife from his grip. It occurred to her, however briefly, that she could try and use it on the Ghoul, but with her hands bound and him armed with guns, it would have been nearly impossible. So, instead, she took several deep breaths and wordlessly bent down to pick up where he had left off with the corpse.

Butchering a corpse wasn’t one of Lucy’s many practiced talents, and it wasn’t long before the Ghoul was next to her, directing her on what to do, and Lucy followed his instructions. It was easier if she convinced herself it was some sort of wild game, like a deer, rather than a man. Eventually he must have been satisfied that she had been put in her place, because he took the knife back and shoved her off to the side of the room to finish the job much more efficiently than Lucy could have, even if her hands hadn’t been tied together.

With the meat tied to his saddlebags to dry and any supplies left over from Roger collected, the Ghoul herded Lucy back out into the punishing sunlight, and the grueling trek continued. Lucy still had no idea what their destination was, or how long it would take to get there, and part of her was wondering if she would even still have a foot left by the time they arrived or if the burning sand would grind it down to her ankle.

As they walked, Lucy noticed that the Ghoul was starting to cough more often. Was this the beginning of whatever was happening to Roger before? His growls had been mixed with coughing. And what had been happening to Roger? The Ghoul had referred to it as ‘changing,’ whatever that meant. Obviously it hadn’t been a good thing, from how somber they had both been about it. Roger had even warned that the two of them should leave before things got worse. Would he have turned violent? There had certainly been an air of ferocity around him when his humanity would flicker away in his eyes during a growling fit.

The sound of Lucy’s Pip Boy RAD meter peaking again drew her out of her thoughts and she looked over to find some sort of old overturned piece of metal with a bowl shape in it. Inside was a puddle of alarmingly green water which was the source of the radiation. To her horror, Lucy realized she was contemplating drinking it anyway. She wasn’t even sure she still had a tongue in her mouth anymore, and her lips felt like they were made of sand themselves.

While she struggled internally over how bad it would be to have a little drink of the stagnant water, the Ghoul unscrewed the top of his canteen and cleared his throat, casually dipping it into the water for a few seconds before bringing it back up to his lips and sloppily dumping it into his mouth, dribbling as much down his chin as he did into his mouth. The entire time he drank he looked over at her, a smug smile on his face.

Droplets fell from the canteen into the water, tinkling tauntingly at her until finally her resolve broke, and Lucy stepped forward and fell to her knees next to it. The Pip-Boy on her wrist protested loudly, but she did her best to ignore it. With a final deep breath, Lucy dipped her hand into the water and brought it to her mouth. The taste of it had her gagging, and for a second she wondered if she was going to throw it back up. Stubbornly she pushed through it, taking another sip.

“Now you’re gettin’ it,” the Ghoul said smugly from above her.

Lucy did her best to ignore him, putting her full attention into keeping her stomach from rejecting the water, but the Ghoul was apparently determined to get a reaction from her, because he crouched down to put himself more on eye level. Lucy stopped drinking to look at him, and in her stare she hoped she conveyed the depth of hatred she felt for this man, which was more intense than she had ever known before, even for the Raiders that had invaded her home. At least with the Raiders it hadn’t felt personal, even when it was her own new husband she was fighting off. With the Ghoul it was most definitely personal.

“How does that Golden Rule jibe with what’s goin’ through your mind right now?”

Lucy was panting as she studied his face. “What… are you?” Her voice came out thick and unsteady.

The Ghoul cocked his head to the side. “Oh, I’m you, Sweetie. You just give it a little time.” He broke off into a smile that Lucy wanted to wipe off his face. Luckily for her, it didn’t last long, as once again the Ghoul broke down into a fit of coughing. Only this time it didn’t let up, and turned into full body heaving and hacking as he turned away from her, spit dribbling from his lips and spraying out into the air as he tried to get his breath back.

Knowing there wouldn’t be a better moment than this, and unwilling to continue to meekly accept his abuse, Lucy realized what she had to do. While he was still doubled over, she used the metal object to shove herself to her feet and took off running down the street. She didn’t know where she planned to go, or how she was going to free her hands, but she knew she couldn’t stand another moment where she was. Anywhere else had to be better than this.

***

The night had passed as sleeplessly as Cooper had thought it would. Half the time he was expecting more kids to come trailing out of the tents until he had the whole group of them piled up around him. Thankfully, nobody else came out. It was just Cooper, Lucy, Kelly, and Nate, with Dogmeat laying by his feet. Even so, Cooper felt more and more out of place. It felt like he was pretending to be someone else by letting these kids trust him this much. Lucy was one thing, she was a grown-ass woman and could make her own choices, but the kids wouldn’t have known any better than to trust him, would they?

As dawn approached, and his limbs fell asleep, another concern started to wriggle in his gut. If he was still outside with all of them curled up next to him, what would the rest of these people think? Most of them were other kids, and he hadn’t been cruel to any of them, but he had tried to keep his distance as best he could. If they saw him like this, would they start seeing him as being more approachable? What if Kelly wasn’t the only one that started following him around? Cooper was desperate not to get attached to these people. Their presence in his life was temporary, after all.

His fears of being discovered were realized just after dawn when Irene came shuffling out of the tent, the blanket that must have been Lucy’s clutched in her hands. It took her a moment to realize that the Ghoul wasn’t sitting alone, but when she did a frustratingly knowing smile spread over her weathered face, and she approached quietly. She draped the blanket over Cooper’s coat on Lucy before wordlessly squatting down to pick up Nate and move him back into the tent.

Cooper breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn’t said anything, then eased his arm out from under Lucy, tucking the coat and blanket around her so she wouldn’t be laying in the dirt once he moved away, then collected Kelly up and followed Irene, putting the sleeping girl down next to her brother.

Irene led the way back out of the tent and went to the firepit, which was still smoking, and started stirring up the embers. “You a coffee drinker?” She didn’t look up at him as she spoke.

Cooper was standing nearby, looking over at Lucy curled up on the ground. Dogmeat had moved to curl up next to Lucy, rather than following the kids back into the tent. Part of Cooper wanted to go back over there and pull her up against him again so she’d wake up leaning on him just as she had fallen asleep. It took more than he expected to resist the urge and stay by the firepit with Irene.

“You got coffee?” he asked.

“I may have squirreled a little away. Not easy to find these days, and the quality isn’t great, but I couldn’t just leave it behind.”

Cooper grunted. “Well, if you’re willing to spare some, I’d take a bit.” He wasn’t about to turn down a little coffee, especially after not sleeping the entire night.

Irene chuckled, glancing up at his face. “You know, I didn’t know if ghouls could have bags under their eyes, but you’ve answered that question for me.” She went about setting up an old coffee pot, and a little metal pot for their breakfast of oat mash.

“You really know how to charm a fella, don’t ya, ma’am.” Cooper flashed her as charming a smile as he could muster with his ruined face, and he dug through his saddlebags to pull out his inhaler. It was oddly routine at this point for him to wake up before everyone else to take a hit of medicine so nobody could ask him about it. It wasn’t that he cared if anyone saw him doing it, but he got annoyed when people would ask him what it was. Especially since he didn’t really know what it was. All he knew was that it helped slow down going feral.

“I’ll have you know I can be very charming, Mr. Wyatt, but at my age it just seems like more trouble than it’s worth. Why be charming when I can be honest instead? Being old comes with its perks, and being blunt is one of ‘em.” She grinned at him, and for a second Cooper got a glimpse of what she must have looked like as a much younger woman. “People just chalk it up to my mind going.”

The two of them sat next to the fire in surprisingly companionable silence for awhile longer, until the sounds of stirring behind Cooper let him know that Lucy was waking up. Her hand clenched and unclenched,  and she uncurled herself from where she was laying under the coat, rubbing her eyes and looking around in evident confusion. Dogmeat huffed and sat up when Lucy did, and Lucy’s hand came down to give her a thorough scratch on the ears. The ponytail she had worn to bed was mussed, especially on the side that she had rested against his chest.

“Mornin’, Darlin’,” he said, tipping an imaginary hat at her. Lucy looked around, spotting his hat on the ground where he had left it the night before, and she picked it up, plopping it down on her head so she could tip it to him.

“Morning, Sheriff,” she replied, voice soft from sleep. Then she proceeded to pull on the duster, pushing up the sleeves a little, and stood, stretching out the kinks she had definitely acquired sleeping the way she had all night. “Morning, Irene.” She smiled at the older woman and came over to sit between the two of them, though she kept the coat and hat on.

“Good morning, Lucy.” Irene gave the pot of oats a little stir. “How was your night? Get some good sleep?” She checked the coffee and took out a couple old mugs, pouring a cup for Cooper. Lucy smiled, glancing at him.

“Yeah. Nice and cozy.” She took off the hat and handed it to Cooper, who took it without comment and put it on his own head. The coffee was fabulously bitter and he drank it so hot it scalded his throat a little bit.

“Careful,” Irene said, “or steam’ll come out of your nose.”

“If he had one,” Lucy said, holding up a hand to turn down Irene’s offer of coffee for her. Irene laughed out loud, and Cooper was taken aback to hear her talking about what many people considered his most off putting feature so casually, playfully, even.

“Don’t worry, Wyatt, you’re handsome, even without a nose,” Lucy continued.

Shaking off the comment, Cooper laughed. “Trust me, it’s an improvement.”

Lucy shook her head, locking eyes with him, and he felt her gaze searching his face, and she didn’t look disgusted or like she pitied him. “No, I mean it. You look good, nose or no nose.” The intensity of her gaze didn’t falter, and in the end it was Cooper who cleared his throat and finished his coffee, handing the mug back to Irene.

“Ladies, I’m off to do a bit o’ scouting. Enjoy your breakfast.” He tried not to feel like he was running away when he stood up, but he ended up hurrying away so quickly he forgot that Lucy was still wearing his coat.

It wasn’t until late morning, just before they all left for the day, that Cooper returned for the duster, and he found Lucy still wearing it. As he approached she beamed a smile at him and shrugged it off, holding it out for him. Cooper wanted to ask her how she could smile at him like that, so openly and honestly, after everything he had done to her and everything she had been through. How could she trust him enough to curl up at his side at night and sleep soundly? Instead of asking, though, he simply accepted the coat back and put it on. Despite his own body temperature, he was pretty sure he could feel her lingering body heat on the worn leather.

***

The morning went as smoothly as the previous day had, and Lucy was starting to hope against hope that they would make it to Vault 4 without any major difficulties. Knowing what the surface was like, she knew it was unlikely to happen, but if she could just have this one thing, to get these people to the Vault in one piece, then when the Ghoul questioned her optimism she could at least hold this up to remind him that things didn’t always take a turn for the worse.

It wasn’t until they stopped for lunch that Lucy found out just how little her hopes meant. Something started to feel off, though she couldn’t put her finger on it. It was the sensation of being watched, though no matter how much she searched she couldn’t see anything around them. There were plenty of places someone might be hiding, and when she brought it up with the Ghoul he agreed with her that something didn’t feel right, and he left to look around.

It seemed prudent to keep the lunch short, and Lucy had them start packing up as quickly as she could without making it obvious that something was wrong. Privately she spoke with the other adults, letting them know what she was feeling and that the Ghoul was out looking around, but that they didn’t want to scare the children.

Irene took more of the kids than usual into the wagon with her. The canvas cover of the wagon was pitiful as far as protection went, but at least nobody outside could easily see the occupants to target them if they were about to be ambushed. 

The explosion took all of them completely by surprise. One moment they were all moving along as quietly and carefully as they could, and the next her ears were ringing and Lucy realized she was laying on her back on the ground, with bits of road raining down around her. At first she couldn’t even figure out what had happened. Turning her head she saw the wagon turned on its side, the brahmin freed from its ties and fleeing into the trees.

The first sounds to come back to her were screams, and it took a moment for her to pick apart the screams of fear from the survivors, and the screams of triumph from their attackers. Coughing, Lucy pushed herself to her feet, pulling free her gun as the first shots started ringing out. It was like she was thrown back in time to her Vault all over again. A group of Raiders started to swarm over them. It wasn’t a lot of them, but the explosion had crippled the survivors, and they were slow to pull weapons to defend themselves. Many of the kids were too young to wield weapons at all. Lucy’s thoughts turned to Kelly. Was the little girl okay? She was one of the ones they had reluctantly trusted with a gun after her help out in the swamp had proven she knew how to use it. Was she alive to fight back now?

A Raider was coming straight at her, and Lucy pulled up her gun and fired. The man went down and she realized too late that there had been another one behind him. Her next shot missed and the Raider tackled her, wrapping their arms around her middle and driving her to the ground. The air went back out of her with a grunt. The gun was knocked away from her hand and that’s when she saw the knife in the Raider’s other hand start to come down.

Reaching up, Lucy grabbed the man’s wrist with both of her hands, struggling to push the knife back. With a twisted grin, the man started pushing down harder, and it was clear to both of them what the outcome of this was going to be. Lucy needed help. The man was taking his time, clearly enjoying watching her struggle, but her strength would fail eventually. Was the Ghoul back? Had the explosion drawn his attention to them? If he was here, she needed his help, and the only way she could think of to get it was to call out for him. Not by the name she had given him, but by the name she had started to suspect was his true name. The name he hadn’t wanted to tell her. Drawing in as much breath as she could manage, Lucy cried out for him.

“Cooper!”

The Raider wasn’t phased by her call for help, but the pressure he was putting on her increased until she knew she wouldn’t be able to call out a second time without losing the strength to keep him back. The knife blade inched closer until she felt it pressed to the skin of her chest, and then started to press a little deeper. Lucy felt blood trickle from the small wound.

The man above her suddenly went still, looking confused for a second, but that was all Lucy needed to push the knife away and slide off to the side so it plunged harmlessly into the ground. The man fell to the other side, and behind him Lucy saw the Ghoul. His shoulders were heaving with his panting breaths, and he was looking at her with a swirl of emotions so frantic that Lucy wasn’t sure she knew what they were. Fear, confusion, relief… anger? Her doubts about his real name fell away with that look.

Without a word, Cooper strode forward and reached down to the fallen Raider, pulling a knife out of the man’s back with a sharp yank. With his other hand he reached for Lucy, and she put her hand in his, letting him yank her up from the ground in one fluid motion, bracing her body against his when she staggered. There wasn’t time to talk about his name now. Not until the Raiders had been fully handled. Cooper sheathed his knife and drew one of his guns, and Lucy retrieved hers, and the two of them went to work.

By the time Lucy got back to the fighting, it was almost done. Kelly was hiding behind a rock with her brother and another child next to her, and she popped out to fire off a shot towards one of the surviving Raiders, catching him in the shoulder, then finishing him with a shot to the chest. As the last of the attackers turned to flee, Lucy raised her gun, but Cooper beat her to it, and the retreating woman’s head exploded into a red mist.

In the absence of gunfire things were eerily quiet, save for the sounds of crying. Slowly the other survivors started coming out from their hiding places, all of them disheveled or injured or both. Bea and Sam went straight to the wagon and pulled out one of the young twins, Camille, who was bawling loudly and wordlessly, followed by another child named Eleanor who was in a similar state. Baby Anna was strapped to Bea’s back and was also wailing loudly enough that Lucy was hopeful the baby was okay. A silent baby would have been a much worse sign.

While Lucy was doing a headcount, Cooper ran for the overturned wagon, passing Bea as she moved away from it to try and calm Camille and Eleanor. He flung aside the remaining canvas covering and when his footsteps faltered Lucy felt her heart drop into her stomach. Immediately she started hurrying over to join him, but Cooper turned, seeing her approach. Holstering his gun, he moved forward to stop her before she could get close enough to see anything of the occupants, shaking his head as he did.

“Lucy, no,” he said, raising both hands to take her by the arms. Lucy tried to push past him and he tightened his grip, turning to put himself more between her and the wagon.

“I need to see,” Lucy panted, fear and adrenaline stealing her breath away. Again Cooper shook his head.

“No, you don’t. You don’t need to see it.”

“Let go of me, Cooper!”

The use of his name again seemed to shock him, and Lucy used the moment to tear herself free of his grip and run the short few feet between her and the wagon. Inside was a mess, and it was hard to tell what was what, but Lucy knew at least one thing: Irene was crumpled, staring sightlessly and wide eyed up at the opening Lucy was looking down through, and the stare felt accusatory. Several other bodies lay twisted and partially covered by their store of supplies, though what exactly had killed them Lucy couldn’t tell. Bullets, the blast from whatever explosive had been used, or something else entirely.

Lucy fell back from the wagon and turned, heaving, unsure if she was going to throw up; tears poured over her cheeks. She felt a small hand on her arm and looked to find Kelly standing next to her, looking sorrowful and scared and so very very young in that moment. Lucy sobbed once, loudly, then swallowed down the sounds, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand.

“Kelly, are you okay? Is Nate okay?” she asked, voice raw and hoarse. Kelly nodded her head, but she was looking past Lucy to the wagon, tears welling up in her eyes.

“We- We’re okay. But the wagon…”

Lucy shook her head and looked up to see Cooper had moved away and was checking who else was alive.

“I need you to stay away from the wagon, okay?” The meaning was clear to Kelly and she started to shake, but nodded, holding her brother a little closer to her side. When all was said and done, they had lost five more survivors, leaving one more child in the group freshly and fully orphaned. Lucy felt a little more of her will stolen away. Despite it all, she helped Cooper salvage what they could from the wagon. She wanted to bury or burn the bodies, but when she brought it up to Cooper he shook his head.

“Raider groups tend to be a lot bigger than what we saw. I think if we stick around any longer we’re gonna be seeing more of ‘em. Ain’t no time to bury them.”

Lucy nodded reluctantly at his words and didn’t offer an argument. Vault 4 was still at least a day away from them, maybe even a little more, and now they had no wagon to help transport supplies or children.

As soon as they had all they could salvage, Lucy picked up Nate, putting him up on her back and fashioning a long strip of cloth into a makeshift seat for him so her arms would still be free, and one of the other surviving adults, Sam, picked up their newest orphan, a four year old named Ben. The older children would have to walk. Irene’s blank stare sat in the back of Lucy’s mind, watching her long after the remains of the wagon had disappeared from sight.

Kelly stuck close to Lucy’s side, and neither she nor Camille complained about having to walk. Even after the sun had set and their punishing march continued. None of them wanted to stop. Nobody wanted to spend any more time out there than they needed to now. There wouldn’t be time to mourn until the rest of them were safe again. Every moment of peace they had had before felt like a mistake now. Every time they had stopped to rest seemed like an error made. If they had only kept going, maybe the Raiders wouldn’t have caught them.

The dark thought weighed as heavily on Lucy as all of the deaths. She thought a lot of Irene, who she had hoped could live out the rest of her life comfortably and unafraid in the Vault. With how old she had been, she deserved that much. Not to die in a wagon on the road between their old destroyed home and their new home.

The sun was rising again when Lucy saw the entrance to Vault 4 that she and Max had been sent out through a lifetime ago. Cooper had picked up Camille, but Kelly had refused being helped or carried in any way. Dogmeat stuck close to the girl’s side, and Lucy was grateful to the animal, because hers was the only support Kelly would allow, even if it was just her presence. Red stains still adorned Dogmeat’s muzzle and chest from their fight, and Lucy had no doubt she had done her share of fighting to protect them.

The group came to a stumbling stop outside the doors of the Vault, and Lucy went to the panel to plug in her Pip-Boy. It didn’t take long for a voice to crackle over the intercom at them.

“I thought we told you you were banished, Lucy.”

Lucy sighed with relief to hear Birdie’s voice, rather than that of the Overseer, who had not been as fond of letting people in.

“Please, it’s not for me. We found a settlement. They were attacked. We have children with nowhere else to go.” Lucy hated to beg, but if anyone would understand, it would be Birdie. There was silence for long enough that Lucy was getting ready to plead her case again, but then the door groaned and hissed and started to move. Lucy stumbled in relief, managing to catch herself at the last second on the console, though she felt a hand on her arm steadying her, and looked over to find Cooper at her side. In the early morning light it was easy to see the disgust on his face as he looked at the Vault door. Lucy was reminded that he had some sort of bad history with Vault-Tec, though they had never spoken about what it was.

Once the door finished opening, Birdie and a few other Vault-dwellers came out, casting their eyes over the disheveled group. Lucy saw pity in Birdie’s eyes, and the woman nodded with a heavy sigh. She looked to Lucy.

“You returned our fusion core to us after we banished you before. You won’t be offered a permanent place with us, but I can offer you a little time to settle your people in and recover. No more than a night or two. Then you’ll have to be on your way again.” She glanced to the side at Cooper, and for a moment Lucy thought Birdie was going to say something about him, maybe tell them he couldn’t come in at all, but then she nodded her head at them, and turned to lead them inside.

As the group started to move, too tired to be nervous, Cooper hung back, and Lucy looked at him. His face was twisted into a look of confusion and doubt.

“Come on. It’s just for a little while. I promise, Vault-Tec isn’t running this Vault anymore. Its survivors and surfacers.”

Cooper looked at the little girl in his arms, who was too tired to cry anymore but refused to go to sleep, and then nodded his head. Lucy saw him swallow hard, and when he lifted his foot to move forward it looked like it was made of iron and he struggled to lift it. But after another step he was at her side and the two of them entered the Vault, Dogmeat trotting along ahead of them with Kelly. Behind them, the gate screeched and groaned again, and the morning light started to fade until it was replaced entirely by the artificial lights of Vault 4.

[kindheart525]

Luster was feeling pretty discouraged after her failed attempt at bonding with Marmalade. For once she felt like she had a family member who understood her, who was on her level, only to find out how self-absorbed she was. In hindsight, she should have known when Marm got her the wrong ice cream on purpose, it was a sign.

It was disappointing, but Luster couldn’t say she wasn’t used to it. She wasn’t much of a group-project filly anyway, she actually learned a lot while working alone. And it looked like Marm was the same way…even more so. Group projects never went well when two ponies were fighting to take charge. 

So now Luster kept to herself, opting to spend her time reading and organizing her books in a peaceful but somewhat lonely state of solitude.

“That looks like a good one.”

“Ah!”

Luster nearly jumped out of her skin at the voice, turning to see one of her other cousins, Blackfire Phoenix, also standing at the bookshelf.

“Sorry. I’m not trying to read over your shoulder.”

Blackfire stepped aside a bit, even though she wasn’t close enough to read over Luster’s shoulder to begin with.

“Oh, okay, um…thanks.”

Luster stammered as she tried to gain her composure, though she already appreciated her cousin respecting her space.

“If you’re looking for something I can get out of the way, I’m just organizing.”

“No.”

Her cousin said a bit bluntly, but she was sincere about it.

“Keep organizing if you want. I won’t stop you. Not enough people appreciate the value of tidiness, so be my guest.”

Blackfire smiled a bit at this last part, nodding for Luster to continue what she was doing.

“Well, not enough ponies do either. I’ve even met teachers who can’t keep their desks clean or their lesson plans in order.”

“It’s the worst, isn’t it?”

Blackfire rolled her eyes playfully and they both chuckled together.

“It’s a skill that you develop, it takes a lot of practice. Some don’t want to put in the effort, while some just haven’t been taught how. It’s like Mom always says, self-improvement takes a lot of work but it’s worth the effort.”

“Yeah, that makes sense!”

Luster nodded along, warming up to her cousin but also impressed by her aunt’s wisdom.

“And, well, annoying as it is, I have this one teacher who is actually really smart even if he can’t keep his room clean. He’s really good at making math actually relevant. My Papa…”

Luster almost couldn’t believe she was bringing up either of her parents, and so casually too. She almost stopped herself but ultimately decided to share this memory with her cousin.

“He always told me everypony has their different strengths.”

Blackfire didn’t know her uncle at all, but she could tell that talking about him was hard for Luster. She didn’t want to press her to talk about him more than she wanted to.

“Mmm, he sure had a point.”

She looked over the bookshelf for something to cheer her cousin up.

“What’s yours? I’m seeing a lot of magic books here.”

“Yes!”

Luster lit up a little more, taking some books and starting to flip through them, passing a few to Blackfire so she could focus on one.

“My favorite is light work magic, there’s so much you can do to manipulate light! You can manipulate the colors, the brightness…well, just about anything! It’s actually really fascinating but I don’t want to distract you from something else.

“I have nothing in my schedule. I want to hear more. Go on.”

Luster was practically floored by this, in a good way. It was such a small gesture but it meant a lot to her for somepony else to show genuine interest in her passions. She hadn’t felt this way since…well, in a long time. 

And so the two cousins spent the rest of the afternoon talking about their passions, demonstrating the tricks of the trade and discovering new ways to create a space that brought them joy.

~~~~~~~~~~

Previous: Weird Science Next: Peach Skin

Luster Dawn's cutie mark by Parcly-Taxel

Bookshelf by DayDreamSyndrom

[popculturelib]

Patented and Improved Methods of Preserving and Canning Fruits and Vegetables, Pickling, Making of Jams, Vinegar, Cider and Unfermented Drinks: Also the Crystallizing and Candying of Fruits, etc / With Cook Book of Over 400 Pages Comprising Receipts from Celebrated Chefs of This Country and Europe (1890) by the Northwestern Publishers and Patent Right Specialists is one of our older cookbooks, and it's a hefty one of over 500 pages. The book touts itself as having the "most modern and improved methods known" for preserving food and has sourced its recipes from both the United States and Europe "at considerable cost." Note: $3 in 1890 is about $100 in 2023.

Featured here are two pages of recipes from the section on Jellies, Jams and Preserves, as well as a page from the index showing sections of recipes for sick people and for infants and children, among other topics. A transcript of the recipes is below the read more.

An interesting fact: On the copyright page for this book, there is a line that reads "As members have all pledges themselves to secrecy, they must not publish or circulate methods, or use for business purposes, under penalty of law."

The Browne Popular Culture Library (BPCL), founded in 1969, is the most comprehensive archive of its kind in the United States.  Our focus and mission is to acquire and preserve research materials on American Popular Culture (post 1876) for curricular and research use. Visit our website at https://www.bgsu.edu/library/pcl.html.

...has become considerably evaporated, test it frequently by dipping a few drops on a plate to cool; and when it jellies sufficiently remove at once from the fire. A much larger quantity of juice will be needed for jelly prepared in this manner than when sugar is used, about two quarts of juice being required for one-half pint of jelly. Such jelly, however, has a most delicious flavor, and is excellent served with grains. Diluted with water, it forms a most pleasing beverage.

Apple and Pear Marmalade

Peel seven pounds of tart apples and put them into the preserving kettle with a pint of cold water ; peel the yellow rind of four lemons, and add same to the apples. Boil it to a pulp, then squeeze in the juice of the lemons and add four pounds of sugar, and boil the marmalade from one-half to three-quarters of an hour until it has the proper "form" and seal in your glasses.

To put Fruit in Jelly.

Prepare some jelly, either from apples or oranges when boiled gins to cool stoned to the proper consistency, and add to it as it be dates, seeded raisins, pitted cherries or other small fruits.

Quince Jelly.

Clean thoroughly good sound fruit, and slice thin. Put into a double boiler with one cup of water for each five pounds of fruit, and cook until softened. Express the juice, and proceed as with other jellies, allowing three-fourths of a pound of sugar to each pint of juice. Tart or sweet apples may be used with quinces in equal proportions, and make a jelly of more pleasant flavor than quinces used alone. The seeds of quinces contain considerable gelatinous substance, and should be cooked with the quince for jelly making.

Plum Jelly.

Use damsons or greengages. Stone, and make them in the same way as for berry and other small fruit jellies.

Peach marmalade.

With a rough cloth rub the fur from sound ripe peaches. Cut them in halves, taking out the stones, and crack about half of them and take out the kernels ; pour boiling water over the kernels, and rub off the skins; then cut them lengthwise in small strips, weigh the peaches, put them in preserving kettle, and add to them three-fourths of a pound of sugar to each pound of peaches ; set on back of stove where it will heat slowly ; when it boils stir constantly and let it boil half an hour ; when it has boiled twenty-five minutes put in the kernels you have cut in strips, and boil it five minutes longer. Put the marmalade in jars, and when cold clip a white paper in brandy and lay over it and seal tight.

Crab Apple Jelly.

Wash the apples, cut them in small pieces, put them in preserving-kettle with just enough water to cover them. Set them on the stove and let them cook to a pulp ; then pour all into the jelly bag, and let the juice drain through them (do not squeeze the bag), and to each pint of juice add one pound of sugar and boil together, removing all scum, for twenty minutes, or until a little of the juice cooled forms a jelly ; when partly cooled put it in your cups, clip a piece of white paper in brandy and lay over it, and seal tight.

[hsrblake]

Here's some of my favorite quotes I love of Cooper Howard am going to add some to this list Well I guess basic training ain't what it used to be. Cause you drive that thing like a fucking king shopping cart rule number one read the manual. You know they used to do these things called studies. Why you couldn't open a newspaper without reading about one study or another. Anyway this one particular study came out and it said that torturing a person don't do shit. It made sense I mean a man hurts me I wouldn't want to do him any favors and yet the practice of torture failed to vanish from this earth. In fact as time marched on I've personally noticed a decided uptick in the amount of torture being doled out across the board my point is if you ask me them studies they was right. Torturing a person don't do shit. Now last night a bounty came in through all six agencies. A hefty price on the head of a man that fits the description of that fella right there. Now I may not know much but I do know a bidding war when I see one. You right friend about one thing. This right here was your last job. My paycheck wasn't quite what you expected. Well what makes you think I'd give a good goddamn about that? Well I'd say come up here and get me but it's hard to walk upstairs when you're wearing a 12 piece cast iron skillet set. Well I tell you what boys whenever somebody says they're doing one last job that usually means their heart's not in it. Probably never was. But for me well I do this shit for the love of the game. It ain't all canned peaches and marmalade left up here sweetheart sometimes a fella's got to eat a fella. You got to be fucking kidding me. That's the other ones that where alsome or had me laughing he has some good lines.

[havethetouch]

Hibiscus harvesting is in full swing. Along with the Roses and the Nettles and the Berries and I cheer on the Peach tree who managed to develop some fruits that might or might not ripen fully (the tree needs some care and cutting, but I think I got this.)

I am still learning my way around the garden and slowly learn how much edible stuff already grows there. Like I knew some Hibiscus plants are good for consumption, hell, my favourite tea is made out of it. So imagine my delight when I figured out that yeahhh I have multiple Hibiscus plants (Violet Russian & Blue Birds) that make dope tea (and probably also a fascinating drawing medium). Maybe I make some sweets with em too. I will also try to get some more lavender around the garden. And herbs. I fucking bloom alongside my garden into my final form of hedge witch. Like... I cannot describe how much peace and joy it brings me to harvest flowers and berries and to hang stuff up to dry in my vestibule. I wanna grow some mushrooms too. And tomatoes. Paprika. All the good shit, okay. ALL the marmalade I'm gonna make..!!! And my uncles' brother in the next village over has a green apple tree that carries more fruit than he can harvest by himself or store or consume, and I already offered to climb up in his tree when the time comes. And my Mama has an apricot and a plum tree that also carry lots of fruit... I repeat. All the marmalade. Yahh this ain't much of a life update, just me rambling about my garden of delights basically. But eh, I have not been this at ease for a long ass time and this garden brings me all the good shit, so take my joy and my amazement here.

[ensuists-moved]

Did Myles ask for keys to get into Julien's apartment? And did Myles spend the day making an array of desserts in his kitchen for his birthday? Yes. Yes he did. Pumpkin bread, cream cheese stuffed caramel cookies, normal chocolate chip cookies, a strawberry peach cobbler, a few orange marmalade pastries, and kiwi creme tarts. Each neatly boxed or bagged on the counter, still warm. On the table is a rather expensive wine whose bottled date is Julien's birthday and a few orders of take out sushi. "I'd have made dinner but I don't trust myself for that," there's a shy laughter, but he's a bit excited- "once you're settled and we've eaten, I've booked us the evening at the infinity pool across the way - you know the one that overlooks the concert hall? There's a musician performing and we'll get to watch it from the water. I thought you might... enjoy that."

julien's belated birthday ✯ always accepting!!

For most, it'd be unnerving when another asks for keys to their place of living ( especially considering Julien's... hobbies ), but for Julien, he's simply a sucker for Myles through and through, handing over his keys along with an invitation to help himself without a moment of hesitation. Perhaps it's a show of how much he utterly trusts and adores Myles... or perhaps he's grown too soft on the other, as Takeshi would say, but in either case, when he walks into his apartment to the smell of sweets and patisseries in the air, he knows he can't even BOTHER to care.

There's no hiding the warm, soft smile that takes over his face as he takes in the state of his dinner table. Mismatched eyes trail up towards his paramour's face, strong arms reaching out to envelop the other in a hug that he hopes can only begin to convey his GRATITUDE for him. ❝ I enjoy it all, ❞ is his coarse murmur, temporarily choked up with the feelings of contentment coursing through his veins at that moment. After a moment, he pulls back, eyes closed as he places a long, TENDER kiss on Myles' forehead. ❝ Thank you, mon cher, for all of this. You are... incredible. ❞

✯ @hhemeraa