#we don’t tolerate Preston hate here
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I started a drawing of Preston and the settlers from Quincy last week and forgot about it. I’m working on Piper today and I have Hancock and Deacon in my queue, but wanted to post this and maybe finish it soon.
#fallout 4#fallout 4 companions#preston garvey#wip#fallout fanart#we don’t tolerate Preston hate here#he’s a cinnamon roll and deserves to be regarded as such#tbh being a cinnamon roll in the middle of the post apocalyptic irradiated wasteland is the bravest position to take#in this essay i will#I also wanted an excuse to draw Sturges#I like my beefy synth boys
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Watching Twilight
Summary: how the Jackass and CKY guys react to watching twilight
A/N: idk if anyones done this already but its raining and I got some inspo
Warnings: Twilight spoilers
Johnny Knoxville: Doesn’t mind it and watches it with you. I don’t think he’s invested in it and thinks its a little dumb but he loves watching anything with you
“Can we watch Twilight?”
“Alright sweetheart, we can watch it tonight”
Ryan Dunn: Doesn’t like it. Makes fun of it. You have to literally drag him to watch it with you but once its on hes asking questions and trying to get it.
“So, he adopted all of them and now they’re dating? C’mon tell me that isn’t weird”
“Just watch it!”
Steve-o: You have to beg him to watch it. Confused the entire time. Doesn’t understand whats going on. Tries to get it and asks a million questions. Uses it as inspo for a stunt. Wants to jump from tree to tree.
“Babe would you date me if I was a vampire”
“Yes Steve”
Bam Margera: SWEARS HE HATES IT but secretly loves it and is completely invested in it. You guys watch the whole series. Wants to be Edward so bad. Definitely wants to dress up as them for halloween. Has deep conversations about it with you.
“Y/n c’mon! We have to be them!”
“Oh my god”
Chris Pontius: Giggles while watching it. Absolutely makes fun of it but wants to watch them all. He definitely teases you for liking it in the first place.
“This is so dumb” cue his himbo laugh
“Shut up you like it”
Dave England: Complains throughout the whole movie. Doesn’t like it. He gave it a slight chance and decided he’d never watch them again unless he absolutely had to.
“Not again!”
“Oh cmon! You chose last nights movie”
Ehren Danger: Defends it whenever someone makes fun of it and him for watching it. Actually enjoys it and appreciates the time with you. Doesn’t want to watch it unless its rainy or the moods right.
“Twilight tonight?”
“Yes!”
Wee-man: Likes it and likes when you suggest watching any of them. Doesn’t care what anyone has to say about it. Gets so into it.
“This is the best part!”
“I KNOW!”
Preston Lacy: watches it with you for you. Doesn’t really like it but can sit down for two hours and watch it.
“Theres more Twilights?”
“Theres five!”
Dico: After watching it he definitely does a skit dressed as a vampire. He tolerates the movies and like cuddling and watching them together but he wouldn’t choose to watch them.
“Here put this on”
“A vampire cape and fake fangs?” - you
“Yes!”
Raab Himself: Watches it with you and enjoys it. Is excited to watch it and has been trying to watch it with someone. Bam definitely catches you guys watching it and will not let it go. He loves having a movie night as it is but he’s more enthusiastic with Twilight. I can absolutely see him gasping watching breaking dawn part 2 when Charlise dies.
“WHAT!? BABE ARE YOU KIDDING ME?”
“I DIDNT KNOW THAT WOULD HAPPEN!”
Rake: Refuses to watch it. Hates romance movies as it is but Twilight is number one on his list. For you he gives it a shot but cant get over the cheesiness of it. Stays in the same room as you while you watch it but does other things.
“Don’t tell me you’re crying over this!”
“HE LEFT HER!”
#bam margera#jackass#ryan dunn#johnny knoxville#chris pontius#steve o#dico#raab himself#ehren danger#dave england#preston lacy#wee man#cky#rake
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desperados [arvin russell x reader smut]
➽ pairing: arvin russell x fem!reader ➽ word count: 4.0k ➽ summary: arvin gets revenge against the man who wronged the girls he loves. ➽ warnings: NSFW/MDNI. smut, explicit language, fingering (f!receiving), graphic violence, is getting to third base in a church parkling lot a warning? probably, excessive mentions of tom’s abs ➽ a/n: make sure to check out the sequel to this on my blog!! thanks for reading!
I saw Arvin’s hands shaking fiercely. The sun was nearly lowered over the distant mountains and people in this town were sure to talk about how the orphan Russell boy had come and picked me up this close to night, but I knew Arvin. He wasn’t very talkative, so his affection (and I use that term lightly) came in other ways. He always let me have his last cigarette, even though I barely smoked. He had saved a seat on the school bus for me, back before we graduated. He was kind, just not in the ways that Coal Creek knew. I knew, when I heard Arvin’s old ‘51 Chevy in front of my house, that he needed me; I jumped in his car before my mom had time to tell me to get dressed decently.
“Arv,” I whispered. “What’s going on? Where’re we going?”
Arvin took a deep breath, but he didn’t answer. He looked out his window before returning his gaze to the front windshield, and his fingers began to tap on his steering wheel. “He killed my Lenora,” he mumbled finally. “Light me a smoke, would ya?”
It took a moment for his words to register. Ever since Lenora died, Arvin had become distant, nearly a whole different man. He went to work and went back to his grandmother’s house. He barely made time for me anymore. That was alright, though; he had lost the only person he had ever really loved. I couldn’t blame him. I wasn’t much to him, other than someone who tolerated him.
“I thought Lenora…” I began and swallowed my words. He had requested a cigarette. I reached into the backseat where his jacket was slung and tugged out his crushed box of cigarettes and a matchbox, and I lit him a cigarette. I passed it to him, and he carefully took it between his fingers.
“Ain’t you gonna take the first gasp?” Arvin asked, managing a weak chuckle. His eyes were dark and focused, and there was nothing behind his smile. Levity, I assumed, to make me feel better about whatever was happening.
“My mama would skin me if I came home smelling like smoke,” I said, wrapping my arms around myself. “Go ‘head, Arv.”
Arvin lifted his hand to his mouth, his thin lips wrapping around the end, and he took a deep pull at it. He blew the smoke out of his nose, and he said, “Lenora did it to herself, yeah, but he made her do it. He drove her to it.”
“Who’s he?” I asked.
“Did that Teagardin son ova bitch ever lay his hands on you?” Arvin asked quickly. His gaze flicked to me, curled up next to him, still wearing my house shoes and pajamas. No makeup, no cover-up; I would be the talk of the town the next morning, I knew it.
“Pastor Teagardin?” I clarified, and Arvin nodded. “No. He tried, though, I think. Once.”
“Ya think?” Arvin repeated. “God damn it, Y/N, what he’d do to you?”
“He didn’t do nothing,” I said quickly. “He’s old enough to be my daddy, ya know how sick that is?”
“You said he tried,” Arvin rebutted. “Tried to do what?”
I huffed out a breath. “I stayed after a service on Wednesday night a few months ago to help Mrs. Teagardin gather up hymns and stuff. She went off to do something, and Brother Preston approached me. Said he… Said he saw me hanging out with you… Saw us drinking and smoking… And he said I gotta repent for my sins. Jesus, the man thought we fucked. He made me get down on my knees to pray, but I heard his belt ‘fore anything happened. Told him I’d call the sheriff on him if he tried anything like that again.”
Arvin breathed deeply, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. “That’s three,” he said. “You, the Reaster girl… and Lenora.”
My heart sank into my stomach. As much as I loved Lenora, she was naive. From the day that she was born, she trusted everybody. If she had ever been with someone, they took advantage of her. Maybe not with violence, but advantage nonetheless. “No,” I mumbled. “He didn’t… Not her.”
“Coroner said Lenora was pregnant,” Arvin told me. He situated his cigarette in his mouth, and his hand floated down to rest on my knee. “I just know it was him. Who the fuck else would it be?”
“Arvin, what’re you doing?” I asked. “Where’re we going?”
“I’m going down to that church,” Arvin began. “And I’m killing that son of a bitch Pastor Teagardin.”
“Arvin!” I yelped. “You’re not! You can’t-- How--?”
The car rolled to a stop in front of the small church, the gravel crunching under the tires. Arvin squeezed my knee, shutting me up, and he leaned forward and dug around behind him for a moment. Slowly, from the back of his pants, Arvin pulled out a small revolver gun. My breath caught in my throat; Arvin was rough around the edges, sure, but never did I think I would see him with a gun in his hands. My Arvin looked so unsure of the weapon, but his thumb clicked the hammer back, readying it to shoot, and I saw something behind his eyes change. He wasn’t vindictive, but revenge was a choice that had to be made. Arvin made his choice.
“A German luger,” Arvin mumbled, his cigarette still in his mouth. “My daddy told my uncle Earvell that it’s the gun Hitler killed himself with.”
I couldn’t manage any words. My lips fell open in shock, my brain struggling to make any coherent thought out of what was happening. “Arvin,” I finally choked out. “You ain’t really gonna kill Pastor Teagardin, are you?”
“He killed my sister,” Arvin said, his voice low in his chest. “He tried to hurt you. Who says he won’t try that shit again?”
“Arvin, you don’t need to avenge me,” I said quickly. My hands grasped his, and I fumbled with his fingers to release the gun. “Lenora wouldn’t want this.”
“How do you know?” Arvin asked. His eyes, the color of dark West Virginian molasses, locked on mine, and his hands came up to capture my face. He was shaking violently, and I wasn’t sure that he would even be able to hold his gun. “None of us will ever know what Lenora would want. I knew her better than goddamn anyone else on this earth, and I think I know. I know, Y/N. And even if he didn’t manage to hurt you, it’s the thought that he would try that-- I don’t know how many other girls he’s got to. I’m doing this whole damn town a service by getting rid of him.”
I gulped in a breath, trying to stop myself from crying. “What’re ya gonna do once you’re done?” I asked. “You can’t stay here.”
“I’m not,” Arvin said. “I don’t know where I’m gonna go, but far away from fuckin’ Coal Creek. I want you to come with me.”
“Arv, I got my family here,” I said quickly. “My momma and my daddy, I can’t just leave them.”
“Y/N,” Arvin sighed heavily. His eyes softened and his thumb pressed into my cheek kindly, and he said, “I can’t leave you here. I love you too damn much.”
“Arvin Russell, I love you too, but I--” I began. “I can’t.”
“Y/N,” Arvin said firmly. “I love you. And I want you to come with me.”
This was different. Arvin had told me that he loved me before, but I always thought he had meant “as a friend” or “as a sister”. Had I been mistaken this whole time? Did Arvin care for me differently than he could ever care for Lenora? “You…” I started. “You love me?”
“I’ve loved you since the day I laid my eyes on you,” Arvin told me. “Fucking seventh grade, your hair was in these little braids, you offered me a seat on the school bus. I thought it was… A crush. But Lenora showed me real love, and I know that I love you. I have always loved you, Y/N. Please, wherever I go, I can’t go without you. I need you, love.”
Tears were welled up in Arvin’s eyes, and he sniffled back his emotions. I hated that. Arvin always tried to hide his emotions and, ever since I had known him, he had only cried in front of me once: the night Lenora died, he came to my house, eyes puffy, and he buried his head in my chest and heaved sobs into me. The strangled sounds of anguish had stayed with me and haunted me in the night, and I never wanted to see Arvin hurting like that again. “Okay,” I whispered. “I’ll come with you.”
Arvin nodded slowly. The tip of his tongue wet his bottom lip as he looked behind me to the small church, Pastor Teagardin’s fancy Cadillac parked in front. “Now, I don’t know what’s gonna happen in there,” he began. “Gimme an hour. If I ain’t back by then, leave. Get outta here, you never knew me. Alright?”
“You don’t think you’d…” I started, and the ache in my heart forced me to stop talking. “Don’t die, Arv. My heart couldn’t take it.” A moment passed where the both of us were still and silent, and finally Arvin’s hand carefully moved to the back of my neck. Quietly, he pulled me close to him and pressed his lips to mine, and my stomach flipped around inside of my body. I had never kissed anyone before, but his kiss felt right. Arvin broke the kiss first, his lips lingering just before mine, and I thought about how my momma had told me that boys didn’t like when girls made the first move. Arvin had kissed me first, though, so, if I kissed back, that wasn’t making the first move. My momma was forever concerned with how people saw me, but, if I was going to run away with a man about to murder, I felt like maybe those societal pleasantries could be pushed aside.
I took Arvin’s coat collar in my hands and tugged him closer, and I reconnected our lips. Arvin was on the same page as me, his hands falling to my waist as easily as if he had done it a hundred times before. His kiss was hungry, like a man depraved, and he guided me to lean against the car door. He moved on top of me, one hand moving above my head to brace against the car door, his other hand pushing my shirt up to expose my stomach. I knew he wanted to see more but was waiting for my permission, and I broke the kiss with a laugh. “This ain’t like ya, Arv,” I giggled.
Arvin seemed to almost wake up, and he moved away from me. “Sorry,” he said, his voice rumbling. “Don’t know what got into me--”
“I didn’t tell you to stop,” I told him. “I was saying that you don’t normally ask for permission to do things, you just… Do.”
“When it comes to pretty girls, I always ask,” Arvin told me. He hovered over me again, his eyes drinking in the sight of me, and I pushed the rugged ball cap off of his head to expose his chestnut hair.
“Got a lotta experience with pretty girls, huh?” I asked, and the corner of Arvin’s mouth quirked into a devilish smile.
“Well, we doin’ this now, ain’t we?” Arvin asked. “I’m thinking this is all the experience I need.”
“Shut your fucking mouth and kiss me, Arv,” I scoffed, and Arvin dove back in. His palm rested on my jaw, his thumb on my cheek, and he kissed me like nobody has ever kissed me. His warm tongue was inside my mouth, drawing quiet moans from the depths of my chest, and his free hand pulled my shirt up, up, up, until I was forced to pull away from his mouth to tug it over my head. My mouth felt chapped from his dark stubble, but my breasts welcomed the roughness. He kissed my mouth, then my neck, then situated himself to bury his face between my breasts. He kissed them, then took one in his hand and squeezed until I whimpered, and I felt him smirk against my tender skin.
“Ya like that, darlin’?” Arvin rasped, and I nodded quickly. “I thought so. You’re making such damn pretty noises, I could listen forever.”
Arvin’s kisses trailed down the middle of my chest, then his mouth refocused on my nipple, stiffened with excitement. His tongue circled it and he gave it a hard suck, hard enough for me to yelp and pull at his hair. This seemed to urge him on, because he started to kiss and gently nip all over my breasts. My skin tingled with each kiss, and his knee found its way between my legs. His thigh pressed lightly into my already-soaked core, and I suddenly felt like I was suffocating with the heat inside of the car. “Arv, shit, hold on,” I mumbled and lifted my hips to take my pants off. His free hand came down and helped me, and his warm palm replaced his thigh once I was bare.
Not once had I ever been touched there. The feeling was foreign but not unwelcome, especially since it was Arvin. I panted, trying to sort myself out, and Arvin pressed a soft kiss to the shell of my ear. “You alright there, darlin’?” he asked, his hand melting away from my body. “Need me to stop?”
“No,” I said. “Keep going, Arv. Please. I’ll die if you don’t keep on.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Arvin chuckled, and his hand went back to my cunt. The pad of his middle finger massaged my wetness, and he pushed his finger past my folds and carefully pressed just the tip of his finger into me. I moaned at the sweet goodness of it all, and I opened my eyes to see Arvin watching me. He didn’t seem to be studying me-- his eyebrows weren’t drawn together in consideration-- but he seemed to be admiring me. I tugged him down to my lips by his hair and kissed him, and his finger pressed further into me. Arvin’s kiss moved to my neck, and he slowly began to pump his finger inside of me. I never knew anything could feel so good. “More,” I whispered, my head falling back to expose my throat to him, and he nipped at my throat before he pushed his ring finger in to meet his middle finger. “Fuck, Arv, this ain’t fair at all,” I gasped.
“What d’ya mean, darlin’?” Arvin asked, his fingers moving with increasing quickness inside me, massaging something in me that I didn’t know existed. It made my legs shake.
“Arvin,” I whimpered. “Take-- Oh, fuck!” His fingers had pressed right into that sweet spot in my body, and the pleasure made my middle seize up. “T-Take off those goddamn pants, please.”
“Always so polite,” Arvin smirked. His fingers retreated from me and, in the fading sunlight coming through the sweating windows, I saw my wetness glistening on his fingers as he undid his belt. He whipped his belt off and tossed it into the backseat before he started to take off his ripped and dirty work pants. Arvin worked on the roads and I knew that the hard labor had gotten him fit, but, as I pulled his shirt off while he removed his pants, I was faced with his body. His chest and stomach were as hard as a rock, his muscles taut under his skin, and his arms bulged with a tight but lithe strength. His middle came down in a sharp V to his cock, half-hard, the tip flushed, resting on one of his built thighs. I had never really paid attention to how attractive Arvin was-- he had a nice face and gave me tight hugs, but that was about as far as I thought of his body or attractiveness. Arvin was so much more than attractive, though. The sight of his body, tanned and scarred and built like an Italian statue, made me face a truth that might have been hard to swallow twenty minutes ago.
“Arvin,” I whispered, pressing my hand to his face. His cheek was warm under my fingers, and his jaw clenched as he awaited my words. “Fuck me, Arvin. I want you.”
“That’s what I was planning on doin’, darlin’,” Arvin drawled, and his hand went to his cock. He stroked himself a few times until he was fully hard, and, by then, he had a thin sheen on sweat on his upper lip. Maybe it wasn’t our clothes that made me sweat and suffocate; it was hot as the devil in this car. The windows were fogged up against the cool West Virginia night, and I reached up and pushed Arvin’s sweaty curls from his forehead. The moment of tenderness seemed to stop Arvin in his tracks, because his eyes lifted from himself to mine, and he gave me an uncharacteristically-sheepish smile. “Everything alright there?”
“Oh, I’m more than alright, Arv,” I whispered. “Just lookin’ at you.” The sunset, nearly done, cast orange light into the car, right onto Arvin’s face, and it caught the flush in his cheeks.
“I…” he started. “I ain’t ever done this before. Never got this far with a girl before.”
“Me neither,” I said. “I haven’t even been kissed before tonight.”
“You still want to…” Arvin began. His cockiness was gone, replaced with a tender intimacy that I was surprised to see existed inside of Arvin Russell.
“I do,” I said. “If it means I get a few extra minutes with you ‘fore you go confront Pastor Teagardin.”
“That’s not the only reason, is it?” Arvin asked.
“Of course not,” I told him. “I just don’t…” I paused and struggled for the right words. “Don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I won’t,” Arvin said. “Son of a bitch ain’t even got a gun.”
The reminder of what Arvin had yet to do made me feel sick to my stomach. My Arvin wasn’t a murderer; was he? I felt the sick rise in my throat, and I struggled to open the car door and contort myself to vomit out into the gravel and grass. I felt Arvin take a handful of my loose hair and hold it away from my face, and I gasped as I felt the burning in my nose. “I shouldn’t’ve said that shit,” Arvin whispered in my ear. “I’m sorry, love.”
“So!” A man’s voice called, and I lifted my head to see Pastor Preston Teagardin standing a few yards away from the car, but certainly close enough to know what Arvin and I had been doing. “Couldn’t handle him, could ya, girly? Y’all got a little trigger in the back of y’all’s throats, ya know. Might do you good to remember that.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Arvin barked. His pants rustled as he pulled them back on, and he gave me his shirt to pull on quickly. My hands were shaking nearly too hard for me to dress myself, but I managed to put his shirt on my body. I shut the car door behind me as Arvin opened his, and I shoved the gun into the back of his pants quickly. I hoped that Pastor Teagardin hadn’t seen that. “Don’t you talk ‘bout my Y/N like that.”
“Oh, I’m sorry!” Pastor Teagardin drawled, his voice dripping sarcasm like honey. ”I thought y’all were the ones fucking at the church!”
“You gotta lotta nerve talkin’ to me like that,” Arvin shouted. His voice bounced around the empty space, sending a chill up my spine. I grabbed my panties and pulled them on as I listened to the confrontation, and, even though I didn’t care too much for God, I made a quick prayer to protect my Arvin. “After what you did to my sister and my wife.”
Wife. Was he saying that to give himself humility? To add credence to his argument? No matter the reason, even if it was a slip of the tongue, it warmed my stomach and cemented in my mind that Arvin really did love me.
“What I did--!” Teagardin scoffed. “Your sister got in that state with some boy! She was delusional, got it in her head that I was the daddy and that I would provide! I had nothing to do with that bastard child! And your wife! Your wife? Who, the whore of Coal Creek, tryna fuck you on top of your sister’s grave?”
Arvin moved as quick as lightning, drawing his gun and focusing it on Teagardin. I saw the pastor flinch away and he shouted, “God damn it, boy! Put the gun down and we can talk ‘bout this like real men!”
Arvin’s thumb pulled back the hammer and I heard the solid click of a bullet entering the chamber. “I’m more of a man than you’ll ever be,” Arvin said, scarily calm.
“What makes you say that?” Teagardin asked. “‘Cause you’ve got a gun?”
“Any man can have a gun,” Arvin said. “It’s ‘cause I got the balls to use it.”
The gun went off, and the air froze. The second felt like a vacuum, forever expanding. I saw Arvin jolt away from the gunshot, I saw his arm kick up at the force of the gun, and I saw the back of Pastor Teagardin’s head explode like it had been detonated from inside.
I didn’t even realize that I was screaming. It hurt my throat and rang in my ears but I didn’t register it. It wasn’t until Arvin threw the car door open and kneeled down next to me that I became aware of what I was doing, but I couldn’t stop. Arvin’s face screwed up in anger and he slammed his hand down on the roof of the car hard enough to leave a dent. “God damn it, woman, shut your fucking mouth!” Arvin growled. “Someone’s gonna hear you!”
“Arvin,” I gasped. My entire body was shaking and the sick feeling returned. “Arvin, you--”
“I know what I did,” Arvin whispered firmly. “I know… Did you see where the bullet shell went?”
I shook my head quickly, my knees crawling up to press against my chest protectively. “No,” I sniffled. I was crying. “Arvin, we gotta leave here.”
“I know, love,” Arvin whispered. He sat in front of me for a second more before putting a shaking hand on my knee in a meek act of comfort. “You can go home. You can pretend like none of this ever happened.”
“How do I…” I began. “I’m never gonna be able to forget that… Looked like pie filling… And I can’t lose you, Arvin. Not-Not after I just got you the way I want you.”
“You really wanna come with me?” Arvin asked. “Ya sure?”
“Yes,” I told him. “I’m sure, Arvin. Please, fuck, get in the car, we need to go.”
Arvin returned to the car and we quietly put all of our clothes back on. Arvin gave me a bundle of floral fabric to wear instead of my pajamas, and I unraveled it to find a young woman’s dress. My heart sank and I looked at Arvin for an explanation, and he mumbled, “S’not Lenora’s. Found it in a box of my momma’s stuff, looked like your size.”
“You brought a dress along before you knew I’d agree to come with you?” I asked. I slipped off Arvin’s shirt and put the dress on and, when my head emerged, I found Arvin giving me that same tender look from before. “Unless you always knew I’d come with.”
“That’s the thing ‘bout you, love,” Arvin chuckled lightly. “You’re usually so predictable.”
As we left, I gave one last look to Pastor Teagardin’s body, laying in the grass and gravel, never knowing what happened to him. He heard the gunshot; maybe he felt the pain of the back of his skull exploding outward. As I watched his body disappear with the distance, I felt like I knew him well. He was a man-- a wicked man, yes-- but he preached it best. It wasn’t worth much to put up a fight against the sins of the flesh.
I wrapped my hands around Arvin’s free arm as he drove, and I pressed myself into him. Night fell as we drove, leaving our headlights to be the sole light, and it was once I saw a broke-down sign saying that we had entered Ohio that I thought to ask, “Where’re we going?”
“Knockemstiff, Ohio. I wanna go bury my dog and this gun and start over… With you.”
#arvin russell#tom holland#the devil all the time#tdatt#fanfic#arvin russell x reader#arvin russell x y/n#sm:ffh#peter parker#spiderman#mcu#avengers#sm:hoco#arvin russell smut#arvin russell angst#maybe two-parter#we'll see...
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𝑩𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏' 𝑼𝒑 (𝑩𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝑺. 𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒏, 𝑬𝒔𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒓𝒆)
Requested by: @ringa-starr
Pairing: Bill S. Preston, Esquire x fem!oc
Word count: 2,110 words
Warnings: none, I think? Unless you count fluff
Summary: Bill’s girlfriend, Deidra, is sick, so Bill takes care of her
Author’s note: I feel so honored to write this for my friend, and I had a fun time writing it since we love the curly-haired angel, Bill S. Preston, Esquire. I’ve been working on this for 5-6 months, but I honestly think I could’ve done a better job with it so don’t come at me. Deidra, I hope you love it, and that you enjoy reading it. GIF isn’t mine, and it holds no significance to the imagine. I just couldn’t find one suitable.
Deidra sat up in her bed, letting out a sigh as she glanced up at the ceiling in boredom. She was sick, feeling miserable beyond compare. It wasn’t allergies, or even the flu. No, it was just a measly cold. Okay, so maybe she had made the most foolish decision of falling asleep with her hair wet while the air conditioner was running full blast.
Saturday had been a particularly hot day in San Dimas. Of course, it was always hot, but the one day on the weekend was uncomfortable. So, Deidra, her boyfriend—Bill S. Preston, Esquire—and her best friend, Ted ‘Theodore’ Logan, went to Waterloo to beat the heat.
Bill and Deidra had been dating for months now, and it had gone incredible. The first time Deidra had met Bill, she instantly became captivated by his sweet demeanor and charismatic personality. She gravitated toward him as if it were like a magnetic force pulling her in. Deidra didn’t know what it was, but there was just something about him she found so...alluring. Bill was boisterous and endearing, as well as goofy. He never failed to make her smile or laugh at his goofy jokes.
Deidra also had become entranced by the way he spoke every word with such genuine innocence, and it made her heart flutter. His beautiful, forest green eyes held such optimism, always sparkling with excitement. He had incredibly golden, curly hair, and cheeks dusted with a naturally rosy blush. His bright, cheeky grin was adorable, and it made Deidra’s soul lift up out of her body every time he flashed his Cheshire grin whenever he spoke. She was convinced he was the Greek God Apollo.
Since Deidra had been holed up in her room for days, she was about to go insane due to the palpable tediousness. While she kept herself busy watching reruns of “I love Lucy” and “The Brady Bunch”, or listening to music, she could only tolerate so much in order not to grow lack of interest.
Deidra hadn’t been able to see Bill, since she spent half of her time with him at Ted’s house watching them practice. She missed hanging out and spending time with them outside of school. The trio were a tight knit group, always together as they kicked around having the time of their lives. Other than spending time in Ted’s garage, Deidra spent the other half of her time at her house with Bill or going on dates with him on their own time. So, the time she had to stay away from him was the most heinous thing ever.
Bill was incredibly charming—always planning the most creative, romantic gestures for Deidra in his own special ways with the help of Ted, of course. It never failed to make Deidra melt at just how much of a gentleman Bill was. He always took her on cute, simple dates—whether it’s to the mall, Waterloo, or even McDonald’s. They spent time together as much as possible since they always had the most fun of times.
Deidra let out a yawn as she laid back down, stretching her aching limbs out wide at her sides. A loud sneeze erupted from her nose, causing her to groan and let her head fall back on the pillow due to the heavy weight on her head from lifting it up. She reached over and grabbed a tissue out of the box on the nightstand, blowing her nose before tossing the tissue in the small bin beside the nightstand her mom had placed there.
Deidra sniffed, staring back up at the ceiling with watery eyes as Elvis played faintly in the background. The sound of the front door closing echoed through the house, filling her with panic. Both of her parents were at work, and if they were home, they would let her know as soon as they stepped foot inside the house. All of the sudden, a familiar figure appeared in the doorway, filling her with relief.
“Greetings, my most bodacious babe Dee!” Bill exclaimed, his arms full of what appears to be food, games, and medicine. Bill had rushed over, filled with worry once he heard how sick Deidra was over the phone, and he wanted to take care of her instantly. “I brought some things I know you’d enjoy during your time of need.”
Her whole face lit up, her eyes twinkling. “Bill!” Deidra croaked, her voice raw from the amount of coughing she had been doing. “What are you doing here?” She asked. “I’m sick, which means you’re not allowed to be here,” she told him, a frown on her face.
“Dee, babe, I haven’t been able to see you for days,” Bill reminded Deidra. “I’ve really missed you, and I know you must be going insane trapped in your room. I figured I’d come cheer you up,” he admitted as he stepped inside the room.
Deidra smiled at his sweet confession. Bill always went out of his way to do things like this for the people he absolutely cared about, including Deidra and Ted. This was just the kind of guy Bill was, and it made her fall in love with him even more.
“I really appreciate it, Bill,” Deidra told bill, honesty in her voice. “I’m sick. I would hate to have you in the same situation, especially because of me. It’s most egregious,” she tried to convince him.
“I’m not going to get sick, you baby” Bill denied with a playful glare, causing Deidra to roll her eyes with a fond smile at his humor. “Just let me take care of you until you’re a hundred percent better again,” bill insisted before placing the items on the bed.
Deidra felt a stinging itch radiating from her throat, causing her to hack violently into her arm. The sensation of her throat feeling like it had been ripped to tiny shreds by a chainsaw was searing in waves of splitting pain. Once the coughing ceased, she squeezed her eyes shut as a sigh escaped past her lips.
Shrugging off his shoes in a lethargic way, Bill sat down beside Deidra, a concerned look etched on his face. He couldn’t help but notice her pale skin, the dark circles underneath her eyes, or her nose red with irritation. The look of pure misery vanished once bill placed a feathery, soft kiss on her forehead.
“Dee, you’re burning up!” Bill voiced as he pulled away, placing a cool hand on Deidra’s forehead, causing her to shiver due to how warm her body felt. Bill brushed the stray, baby hairs away from her forehead. “You stay here, babe. I’m gonna go and make you some soup,” he stood up from the bed with a smile before retreating downstairs to the kitchen.
A small grin graced Deidra’s lips, finding how adorable and sweet it was for Bill to become worried, especially whenever it came to her. Even at his own risk, Bill was a deeply compassionate person by helping when Deidra was in distress. She couldn’t help but feel naturally content, delighted, and safe in his presence.
Deidra crawled out from the warm cocoon of her bed, moving toward her record player and turning off the music of Elvis. She plopped back down on her bed and pulling back the covers closer up to her neck. It didn’t take long for Bill to finish making the soup, as he made his way back into the room, carefully holding a bowl of soup and a spoon. Deidra sniffed the air, the delicious smell of the soup wafting through her nose.
“Here you go, babe,” Bill softly spoke, carefully handing his girlfriend the bowl of hot contents and a spoon. “You need to eat a little bit so you can take your medicine.”
Deidra settled the bowl on her lap, the weight of the bowl full of soup feeling heavy in her hands. She placed one hand around the bowl, her index finger resting on the rim to keep it steady on her lap. Timidly, she took a spoonful of soup, bringing it up to her mouth and carefully blowing on it before taking a bite.
Deidra shivered at the warm feeling flowing through her body from the hot soup. Bill took his place beside her as he watched her continue to eat the soup. Noticing his beloved was almost finished, bill took the spoon and guided it to her lips.
Deidra blushed, eyeing the spoon bill was holding up to her lips. Bill often fed her from time to time, whenever they went on dates, but this time it was obviously under different circumstances. She was more vulnerable. Of course, neither of them seemed to mind, as it was a loving gesture bill did with patience.
The curly-haired angel pushed the spoon past the girl’s lips, letting her finish the last bite of soup. She leaned over, placing the bowl next to the cup of tea she had made a while ago, already sure to be cold now. Deidra glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand, knowing it was time to take her medicine once again.
After she finished taking her medicine, Deidra grabbed the bottle half full of water and took a big sip of it to wash the horrid taste down. She eased herself back under the covers in order to lie down, sighing in content from the warmth the soup and the covers provided her with.
Bill outstretched his arms for Deidra to envelop herself into his embrace, causing fear to cross her face as she shook her head in protest. “Bill, no, I don’t want you to risk yourself more than you already have.”
“I don’t care,“ Bill excused. “Just let me hold you.” Deidra bored her eyes into her boyfriend, biting her lip as Bill fluttered his eyelashes with an expectant smile before shuffling closer to him and curling into his chest. He gazed into her eyes with such fondness, causing a flush to creep up her face as she knew he was thinking of her.
“I’m only doing it because you’re cute,” Deidra commented, causing bill to form a smirk on his lips once he took notice of her sticking her nose in the air.
A moment of silence passed before bill spoke up. “Do you feel a little better, Dee?” Bill asked, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer to him. The warmth from the blankets combined with the heat from cuddling up to Bill enveloped her with a blanket of comfort. “Are you warm enough?”
The brown-haired girl hummed, nodding her head. “You’re soft and warm,” she murmured. “I don’t want you to move.” Bill did manage to make her feel a little better than how she was feeling before. He lifted her spirits once he showed up, so needless to say, she wasn’t feeling as miserable as she had been. “I’m so glad you came over. Any time without you is far too long.”
Her voice dripped with exhaustion from the medicine, the state of drowse sinking in as a side effect. Bill’s mouth lifted up into a smile as he played with Deidra’s hair, tracing through her long, wavy locks softly with his fingers.
“Don’t stop...” Deidra mumbled in a languid tone, causing bill to hum in question. “Your fingers in my hair,” the girl clarified. “Feels really nice...”
“You’re adorable,” Bill crooned, his mouth curving into a soft smile. “You know I’ll always be here, right?” Bill quietly vowed in a gentle tone, causing Deidra to hum in content. There were times where Bill struggled with expressing how he felt about the green-eyed girl, but they both knew he loved her so much.
As the day progressed, Bill made sure Deidra consumed her medicine regularly when she was supposed to. After watching Lady and the Tramp and playing board games, Bill and Deidra started reading together. Bill absentmindedly tangled his fingers through the dark tresses and down her back as he reads to her in a soft voice.
Bill peered down at Deidra, only to see she had dozed off once he noticed her eyelids flutter shut. The corners of his mouth twitched up as he gazed down at her, before closing the book and pulling her closer to him. He nuzzled his face into her hair, before placing a tender kiss on the crown of her head.
“I love you,” Bill whispered softly into her ear. “I hope you know this.”
“I love you, too,” Deidra declared, her voice just barely touched of a whisper. It nearly would have been too silent, yet bill had heard it loudly by the tiny grin curving on the corners of his lips. It just reminded how in love he fell with her more everyday.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫
So, that’s it for this imagine! Bill is so cute, and as a Bill girl, I wish I lived in a universe where I was sick so he could take care of me! What do you think? Like I mentioned before, I really think I could have done a better job with this. I’m honored my best friend Deidra came to me to write this, and I hope I did it justice!
With love, from Audrey <3
#bill s preston esquire imagine#bill s preston esquire#bill s preston esquire x reader#bill and ted imagine#bill and ted#bill and teds excellent adventure#bill and teds bogus journey#alex winter
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5 for Danse?
A story featuring my ABAOLUTE FAVORITE broTP. Ever. Them nerds. The song that came up was Nightmare by Avenged Sevenfold. It’s a depressing song, but I tried to spin the drabble so that it ended happily. Because we all like happy endings, right? Right? Please enjoy!😊
Nightmare
Can't wake up in a sweat. ‘Cause it ain't over yet. Still dancing with your demons; victim of your own creation.
Danse lay sprawled on the lone bed at the Red Rocket station, an empty bottle of whiskey in his hand.
He had just started becoming acquainted with the other companions at Sanctuary— hell, he could even consider some of them actual friends now. So why was he isolating himself again?
“I do this to myself,” he thought aloud, “I’m my own worst enemy.”
He tossed the liquor bottle into a nearby trash can and let out a frustrated sigh.
Closing his eyes, he began to think about how much his life had changed since the...event.
He hated to admit it, but living in Sanctuary wasn’t that bad. He actually liked some of Sole’s friends.
He thought about the chaos he’d always get sucked into with Deacon, Hancock, and MacCready; the drinks he would share with Cait and Gage; the philosophical chats he would share with Nick; the drunken rants he’d have with Longfellow; the nature walks he would go on with Curie; the heated debates he’d have with Piper; the random historical facts he and Preston would exchange; and even Strong wasn’t all that bad for a Supermutant.
“Who am I kidding? They don’t miss me. They probably don’t even like me. I’m an abomination,” Danse rambled, “Being banished from the Brotherhood...it’s a nightmare come true.”
His self-loathing was interrupted by the sound of light scampering.
Thinking it was a molerat, Danse kept his eyes closed. He didn’t care anymore. Why should he?
He suddenly felt presure on his abdomin. He opened one eye to see Dogmeat standing above him, tail wagging, tongue out as he panted happily.
“Oh! Hey there, boy,” Danse smiled as he affectionately scratched the dog’s neck, “What’re you doin here?”
“There you are,” Preston declared, entering the room.
“Garvey? Why—?”
“I was worried about you, Danse,” the Colonel explained, “I had Dogmeat track your scent.”
“You actually noticed I was gone?”
“In a settlement of just under 20 people, it’s easy to notice when one goes missing,” Preston chuckled, “Plus, it’s History Channel Monday, and you have all the holotapes.”
“Oh damn,” Danse said, reaching into his inventory, pulling out a stack of tapes, and sifting through them, “Looks like tonight was about Bacon’s Rebellion too.”
“Well, we still have time; it’s only 9pm.”
“I’m... slightly inebriated right now, Garvey.”
“Even better,” Preston said, pulling out a beer, “Drunk history!”
“I suppose that would make the narrator’s voice slightly more tolerable.”
“What do you say,” Preston pushed, “Come back to Sanctuary so we can start the marathon before the sun comes up?”
“What do you think, boy?” Danse asked his Dogmeat, who was lazily sprawled across the former Paladin’s lap.
The dog barked excitedly, immediately bolting toward the door.
“He has spoken,” Danse laughed, “Let’s go, Garvey.”
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In It For The Long Haul - Chapter 10
I posted things out of order. This is chapter 10. Claudia’s POV.
Claudia woke up shivering on the bare, dirty mattress. She was unsure how big the difference in temperature was between the old and current versions of the Commonwealth. If it was colder or warmer than before the bombs. Either way, she was not used to winter in the Commonwealth. The lack of blankets did not help.
She pushed herself into a sitting position. Her legs were sore from being on the road, running, all day the day prior. She stared at the wall ahead of her. Every time she blinked she saw Kellogg’s face.
She had felt herself get so unbelievably angry. It scared her how angry she got. She knew she was in the right. Kellogg was a down right bastard, but she hated herself for the contempt she felt.
She glanced at MacCready who was snoring quietly on the other bed. He was laying on his back with his hat pulled over his eyes. She could only really see his chin, but his body looked relaxed. He was always so guarded, even around her. She had figured something had happened, given the wasteland was little better than a hell hole. She had not anticipated he had lost his wife. Especially since she assumed they were about the same age.
She replayed that moment from the night before over and over and over. She could hear the grief in his voice. His pleas for her to not blame herself like he did broke her heart. She did not know what exactly had triggered what happened, but she felt horrible. But that vulnerability pushed out any ideas that he might be just in it for the caps.
She groaned as she got up. Part of her wished she could just stay in bed all day, even if the bed was gross. She grabbed her bag from next to Dogmeat. His head perked up as she reached for it. She scratched behind his ears, before she grabbed it. She quietly rifled through the bag before fishing out a canister of purified water. She downed half of it, before putting it back.
She grabbed her Pip-Boy off of one of the nightstands next to her bed. She sat down on the side of the bed, facing the other. The backs of her knees hit the edge of the mattress. She was careful to turn down the volume before turning on the radio. She held it up to her ear to hear the sound of a fiddle playing. She waited for a few moments before McNiall’s voice came over announcing relative peace in the Commonwealth.
She sighed in relief. At least at that moment they would not have to take a major detour on the way to Sanctuary. She needed proper rest, or at least the closest thing she could get.
She let the sound of the fiddle come over for a few more minutes. She closed her eyes, listening to the music. The sound of the radio took her to some place out of time. For the smallest of moments it distracted her from everything. Then MacCready stopped snoring.
“Mornin’, Boss,” he grunted sleepily.
She hummed quietly in response, as she turned the radio off.
He sat up, and took his hat off of his face. This was one of the few times she had seen him without his hat. His light brown hair was oily enough that when he pushed it back it held its shape.
She felt her hand instinctively raise to feel her own hair. She missed being able to bathe regularly.
He put his hat back on, and yawned. He shot her a concerned look before speaking, “Do you… do you want to talk about yesterday? What we’re going to do?”
She sighed and picked at the pills on her knees. She did not want to focus on it anymore, but they needed a plan.
“That doctor he was tracking is in the Glowing Sea, right? We need to find a way to get through the rads… and we should probably let Preston know.”
“You’re actually going to go down there? Not only is it fu… very dangerous down there. This isn’t just a random merc we’re offing,” he warned.
“It’s not exactly like we have a choice,” she argued back, “It’s more than just the kid at this point. My job is to protect the Commonwealth…”
MacCready ran his hands over his face again, “Alright, if you’re sure. ” “We should probably get out of here before they start charging us extra,” he said, getting up from his bed, “We heading anywhere before going back to Sanctuary?”
“Not as of right now. Nothing was on the radio,” she explained.
“Straight to Sanctuary then.”
***
They got to Sanctuary by mid afternoon. They had a run in with a small group of raiders, but other than that the Commonwealth was surprisingly peaceful.
Claudia felt a sense of relief as soon as they saw the Red Rocket come into view. The Minutemen, with the help of some of the settlers in the area, had been doing a good job of keeping Concord clear of raiders and the occasional Gunner. At his point it was clear it was Minutemen territory. Animals, on the other hand, could not care less. She did not feel truly safe until they started to walk past the old gas station.
Someone she did not recognize was standing guard in a shack at the Sanctuary end of the bridge. He was a rather tan man with dark hair. He eyed them suspiciously as they drew closer. She could see his grip on his gun tighten slightly. She could feel MacCready tense slightly next to her.
“Welcome to Sanctuary,” the man said, “If you don’t mind me asking, who are you, and what’s your business here.”
Claudia smiled softly. It was nice to know their new guard was taking his job seriously.
“I don’t believe we’ve met yet. I’m General Claudia Flynn, and this,” she gestured to MacCready, “is MacCready.”
She watched as his face changed from wary suspicion to surprise and slight embarrassment.
“Sorry about the hostility Ma’am. I had no idea. My brother and I got in yesterday. It’s an honor to meet you. You gave us a new home, and the Commonwealth is getting better everyday thanks to you.”
“Hearing that means a lot,” she blushed slightly at the praise. Out of the corner of her eye she saw MacCready roll his eyes.
“I’m Gabriel Acosta, my brother Antonio is the night guard.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, and to know that we finally have guards here. You wouldn’t happen to know where Preston or Sturges are, would you?” she asked.
“Oh, uh, yeah. Sturges should be in the workshop area, and I believe Major Garvey is helping out the Abernathy’s.”
“Thank you,” she nodded, frowning slightly. She did not want to have to wait to talk to Preston any longer.
“Glad to be of help, Ma’am,” he exclaimed, “Oh, and I believe Sturges wants to talk to you about something.”
“Thank you,” she said again as they walked away. She glanced at Maccready who was scowling.
“You good?” she asked.
“He should’ve just let us in,” he grumbled.
“He was just doing his job. Would you rather he let the place get overrun by raiders?” she joked.
“No, but when he found out you’re the general he should’ve just let us in.”
“He was saying thank you. You aren’t jealous that he wasn’t addressing you, are you?” she raised an eyebrow at him.
“No, just, ugh whatever,” he grumbled.
She scoffed and shook her head.
After they dropped their stuff off at their house, they headed off to find Sturges. They found him exactly where Gabriel said he was. He was standing in front of a table near the old workbench stripping apart what looked like an old car motor.
“Hey, Sturges,” she greeted.
He looked up from the motor, “Hey Boss! MacCready,” he nodded at him, “It’s good to see you two again,” a confused look came over his face, “Where’s the kid?”
“Things didn’t go as we hoped. We’re going to have to talk to you and Preston about it,” she explained.
“Damn. Well, at least I have good news. Found some parts to make a mic for your Pip-Boy. Make a portable HAM radio, so you can talk to the Castle without worry,” he offered.
She brought her arms to her chest, like she was protecting it, “You sure you know what you’re doing?”
“I’m not going to break it, if that’s what you’re worried about, or I’m at least ninety percent sure I’m not going to.”
“That’s not reassuring,” she said.
“At most the radio will be messed up,” he tried to assure her.
She sighed and undid the Pip-boy, “Fine. If you see Preston, come find us.”
***
Claudia sat on the couch in her old house. She flipped through some notes on the coffee table that Preston had written for her while she had been gone. MacCready washed the dishes from their dinner.
Sturges had gotten a water purifier up and running in the time they had settled Sanctuary with some help from Codsworth. Claudia and MacCready had hauled a few buckets of water to their house. He heated up one, and was using some soap they had scavenged to clean the dishes.
She jumped slightly when she heard someone rap on the front door.
When she opened the door Sturges was standing there Pip-Boy in hand.
“Good news, Boss. Both the mic and the Pip-Boy are in workin’ order, and Preston’s back,” he smiled, hand it over.
“Oh thank God,” she breathed, “This should definitely help. You guys ready to talk?”
“Yes we are.”
“Mac, you ready?” she asked, turning to face him.
He frowned slightly at the use of the nickname, “Yeah, everything just needs to dry now.”
The door to the Minutemen base creaked as she opened. Inside Preston was sitting at the table in the center of the room, waiting for them.
“It’s good to see you again, General. MacCready,” Preston greeted, standing up. He was slowly becoming more and more tolerant of MacCready.
“It’s good to see you too,” she smiled, “What did the Abernathys need help with?”
“Saw some Gunners scouting them,” he explained, “but there were only three, so I didn’t have any issues taking care of them.”
“Always better to have less Gunners in the world,” MacCready muttered.
“You won’t have any arguments from me. Anyway, you said you needed to talk to us about what happened with Shaun?” Preston asked.
“Yeah,” she said, folding her arms and leaning onto the table. She had been thinking about how she was going to start talking about this all day, but she still was not sure how.
Eventually she sighed and asked, “What are your opinions on the Institute?”
Preston narrowed his eyes at her, “I’m not really sure if I even believe they’re a thing. I think people are just being paranoid.”
“Sturges?”
“I gotta agree with Preston,” he shrugged, “Why do you ask?”
She shifted uncomfortably, “We tracked down the man who kidnapped Shaun. Turns out I was too late. Ten years too late…” she shook her head, “He handed him over to the Institute. They are very much so real.”
“Damn,” Preston swore, “That’s not good, but that explains a lot of disappearances.”
“I’m sorry about that, Boss. Institute's the biggest mystery in the Commonwealth. No one even knows where they are,” Sturges said.
“Maybe, but we might have a way to get in. They use teleportation, and there could be someone who can help us with that,” MacCready explained.
“Well, that explains a lot,” Sturges said, “I’m not entirely surprised they figured that out given their Gen 3 synths. Now where is this miracle person?”
“That’s the thing. He’s in the Glowing Sea,” she explained.
Preston shook his head, “Are you sure this is a good idea? Not only are we messing with the Institute, you want to go into the Glowing Sea? That’s the most dangerous place in the Commonwealth.”
“I know. Everyone’s told me, but we have to do this. I promised Nora I’d find her kid, and this isn’t even just about him anymore. This could affect everyone, and it’s our job to keep people safe, isn’t it?”
She could see him mulling over her words.
“You’re right,” he sighed, “Any ideas on how you’re going to pull this visit off?”
“I was hoping you two would.”
“Power armor should do the trick, but I’m not sending anyone out there in anything less than a T-51b,” Sturges offered.
“Are the suits we have not good enough?” she asked.
“Nah, both are T-45s, which means you’re going to have to keep an eye more than usual. I’m probably goin’ to have to make a few modifications too, so we’ll need parts.”
“It’s better than nothing,” she sighed.
“Alright then, looks like I’m goin’ to have a new project. If that’s it, I have some stuff to work on.”
She nodded at him, and they wished each other goodnight.
“You know about the Brotherhood ship, right?” Preston asked.
“We saw it sail into the Commonwealth,” MacCready grumbled. Claudia glanced at him. She wondered why he was so grumpy.
“What are we going to do about them? They aren’t exactly the most peaceful group.”
“Keep an eye on them for now. I don’t want to have to start a war I don’t need to,” she ordered. As uneasy as it made her feel, she did not think this so-called Brotherhood of Steel was an immediate threat. Not to the Minutemen and their settlers at least. Despite that she could not shake the pit in her stomach. Something big was coming, she could tell.
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Fallout OC Interview!
So @robobrainmurdermysterytheatre posted a Fallout OC interview... here we go!
First one is for my main OC Maxie!
I’m gonna tag @redrocketwarrior @radbeetle @nuka-nuke @charomiami and @life-is-no-sugarlicking to do this too!
What is your name?
“Colonel Maximilian Ji-yeong Tanaka, Commonwealth Minutemen. But you can just call me Maxie.”
How old are you?
“Thirty-something, give or take 200 years.”
What do you look like?
“Not totally human. Part-Deathclaw. If you wanna know a bit more, I was fucked about with in one of Vault-Tec’s underground and lesser-known Vaults, Vault 198. But that’s as far as I’m going.” A brief pause. “And if you think about calling me a freak or whatever shit you feel like hurling at me, well... you don’t wanna meet the claws.”
Where are you from? Where do you live now?
“As far as I can remember... Boston, pre-war. Long time ago. Nowadays I’m based in Sanctuary in the Commonwealth.”
What was your childhood like?
“I, um... don’t really remember. Lotta shit went blurry after I took a couple of bullets to the brain.”
What groups are you friendly with? Are you allied with any factions?
“The Minutemen, obviously. They’re doing what’s best for the Commonwealth. And the Railroad too, ‘cause they help the synths out. Synths ain’t bad people.”
Tell me about your best friend.
“You must mean Preston. He’s a good man, real good. He’s got his own shit to deal with, but ain’t we all? But he’s strong, real strong. Takes a lotta balls to still see good in this world even when things have all gone to shit.”
Do you have a family? Tell me about them!
“I have my fur children, ‘bout 30 of ‘em living in Sanctuary. All of ‘em are so sweet and lovely.” Smiling then. “I’m their dad.”
What about a partner or partners?
“Where would I be without my life partner, Matsu? He’s the General of the Minutemen... but he also saved my life. My first trip to the Commonwealth... I was still sorta on call as a courier for the Mojave Express, had a package to take to a Preston Garvey. Matsu was gonna show me the way.”
A brief pause. “And something deep down told me that I wanted Matsu in so many ways. Our first meetings weren’t that hot, and it was rough, but... he came into my life at a time when I was about to give up. Shit had gotten so bad down in Nevada that I was almost gonna...”
“But Matsu was there. He has his own shit to deal with, but... he cared enough to pull me outta that dark place. And I just fell for him. He’s got a real suaveness to him, a real swagger. And that jawline... fuck. But I also admired his strength of character too. As well as that sultry Japanese accent... does things to me, y’know?”
A wistful sigh. “I can’t say enough good things about Matsu. He’s kind, caring, tough when he needs to be and I would lay down my fucking life for that man.”
Who are your enemies, and why?
“Raiders, obviously. Especially the fucking Vipers. And I ain’t talking about that ragtag buncha chem-addled shitheads in Nevada. There’s another group with the same name. They run a chems factory in the Commonwealth. And I hate every single fucking raider.”
“The Institute as well. Those fuckers were the ones who made Matsu suffer. So I’m gonna finish ‘em off.”
Have you ever heard of The Brotherhood of Steel? What do you think about them?
“Oh, Arthur Maxson’s Flying Dildo Circus? Yeah, I heard of ‘em. They got technology and good medical facilities and shit, but I ain’t exactly on the best of terms with ‘em. They only tolerate me ‘cause Matsu deals with ‘em. But Proctor Quinlan and his cat are nice.”
What about The Enclave?
“Heard of ‘em. They ain’t such a big deal in the Commonwealth but I hear they’re more based in the Capital Wasteland.”
How do you feel about Super Mutants?
“Most of ‘em are fucking nuts. Some of ‘em can be reasoned with, but a lot of ‘em think they’re so fucking superior and that’s where you gotta knock a few inches off ‘em. Preferably with a bullet to the brain.”
What’s the craziest fight you’ve ever been in?
“I tried to fight off a crazed raider boss who’d got some seriously modded Deathclaw gauntlets. This fucker was mental, and probably doped up on fuck knows how many chems. This bastard had threatened my home so I had to fight him.”
“And... I thought I was gonna die. He’d got me real good at one point and I thought that was it, but he’d been taken out. Didn’t see who got him though, but he’s dead so that’s the main thing. And I’m alive.”
Have you ever fought a Deathclaw?
“A few times. But I prefer to try and pacify ‘em. They really ain’t the crazed killing machines that people think they are. That’s only when they’re too starved to be reasoned with.”
Do you like fighting?
“Not really. I fight when I have to, but I try to negotiate with ‘em first. But sometimes you’re left with no choice so you gotta fight.”
What’s your weapon of choice?
“My trusty scoped .44 which comes with me everywhere. Or more recently, a souped up gauss rifle that I fixed up myself.”
How do you survive? Your wits, your charm, your skills, brute force, some combination? (a.k.a. what’s your S.P.E.C.I.A.L?)
“Bit of charm, bit of force, bit of skill. So a bit of a mix.”
Have you ever been in a vault? What do you think about them?
“Yes and I fucking hate ‘em. Cramped as all hell. I don’t go in ‘em unless I gotta.”
How do you beat all the radiation around here? Has it affected you?
“I think the radiation affects everyone eventually. But a bit of RadAway don’t hurt.”
What’s your favorite wasteland critter?
“Brahmin. Good for meat and milk.”
What’s your least favorite wasteland critter?
“Fucking bloatflies. Disgusting pieces of shit. And bloatfly meat is just... fucking gross.”
How do you feel about robots?
“Robots are cool. Best one I ever met was Fisto back in Freeside.”
How many caps do you have on you right now?
“What, so you can steal ‘em? Yeah, I don’t think so.”
Nuka Cola or Sunset Sarsaparilla?
“Nuka-Cola. Especially Nuka-Cherry. Sunset Sarsaparilla is too sweet for my tastes.”
Do you do chems?
“Used to do Jet, but I’ve since kicked that habit in the ass.”
Do you ever think about the Pre-War world?
“Occasionally... but if I’m honest, I wouldn’t want it back. A lotta bad shit went away after the bombs fell.”
What’s your deepest regret? What would you do differently?
“I got far too many... but I’d try and not fuck up in the first place.”
What’s your biggest achievement? Or what do you hope to achieve?
“Surviving until this point. I made it this far, after all.”
What do you want for the future? For yourself? Your friends? The world?
“All we gotta do is keep rebuilding the world and making it a better place. ‘Cause if we all pull together, we can do it. I just want us all to be happy and make the Commonwealth better.”
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Dialogue After a Companion Hates You
(Some of this dialogue is said after lowest-affinity conversations, other lines are just at any point that they hate the player.)
Cait
I told you I'm done with you. Now piss off.
Get away from me. We're through, remember?
Back off. I'm not talkin' to you.
We're done! Get the hell away from me.
Keep botherin' me all you want. I'm not changin' me mind!
Codsworth
To think I actually respected you.
I'm not sure who I'm disappointed in most. You... or me, for believing in you.
If only you'd never graced the Commonwealth with your presence. We'd all be better for it.
It's hard to determine what's worse: Raiders, Super Mutants... or you.
It's people like you that keep ruining this world for everyone else.
If only you'd never left that Vault. The Commonwealth would have one less villain.
Believe me when I say, I wish nothing more than to erase my memory of you entirely... but then I'd hate to make the same mistake twice.
Curie
I should've stayed at home.
This situation cannot be tolerated.
So many violations of my ethical coding.
We are so opposite.
Danse
No. We're done talking.
I've got nothing to say to you.
Just turn around, and walk away.
I thought I was clear. We're done.
Just stay out of my way.
I always have time for you.
Deacon
There's too few good men left. The Commonwealth just chews them up and spits them out.
[Mumbling to himself] Sometimes the cure is worse than the disease.
My initial estimation of you was off. Way off.
The Railroad accepts all types. Even people like you.
The company I keep sometimes.
You don't really need me, right? I'd love to go solo.
I didn't think anyone would get on my nerves more than Glory.
You're just feeding our enemies ammunition in their PR campaign against us.
You ever hear of the Golden Rule? Didn't think so.
So many mistakes...
Hancock
You're lucky I'm feeling merciful right now.
Not sure who I'm more upset with right now, you or me... nah, it's you.
Can't believe I signed up for this.
You know what you've made us look like? Cowards.
My rep's probably shot to hell after all this... thanks for that.
You're gonna end up six feet under acting the way you have... if we're lucky.
You got some real shit to answer for.
I've run with some scum in my day. But you...
Just what the world needed... one more thug.
MacCready
After what you did, I doubt anyone will hire me.
I should have stayed in Goodneighbor. This sucks.
Just back away while you still have the chance.
Nope. Whatever you're selling, I'm not interested.
Maybe I should head back to the Capital Wasteland. There's nothing here for me now.
You standing here for a reason?
What's it going to take to get through to you? Go. Away.
I made a horrible mistake sticking it out with you.
Can't believe someone could be so stupid.
It's pretty obvious that you don't care about anyone but yourself.
Piper
Ugh. I don't even want to look at you.
Blue, please. I'm trying real hard to not yell at you right now.
I always wondered how people could let things get so bad in your time. Well, now I know.
How'd I let myself end up here...
How could I let you rope me into this...
Thought we might do some good together... so much for that.
You are infuriating, you know that?
Well, at least if anyone needs to find us they can just follow the trail of ruined lives...
I've come across some real monsters, but you, you may just take the cake.
So much time and effort, right down the tubes.
Preston
We don't have anything to talk about.
I've got nothing to say to you.
This'll go better if we don't talk to each other.
I'm done trying to get through to you.
Don't test my patience.
Strong
Strong hate human!
Strong want to smash human!
Human is worthless!
Go away!
Strong should make gore bag out of human.
Leave before Strong smash!
Nick
What?
Back to ruin my day?
You're still here?
What do you want?
Pester someone else, why don't ya?
X6-88
I have nothing to say to you.
If you can't respect the Institute, then I can't respect you.
Excuse me, I have duties to attend to.
You should keep walking.
I can't help you.
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RE: This post (sort of) because I feel like I derailed the OPs post and I literally don’t know them and I feel awkward posting on it more lol
BTW if y’all are sick of talking to me about this no worries, nobody owes me a reply, I just like talking about the game and I have learned a lot from what other people have to say so here we are.
Fuck this got really long so I’m cutting it but it’s about Elder Maxson. Again. Sort of. And Synths. And I want to preface by saying I’m all about love what characters you want, you do you. I’m not trying to hate on anyone for liking or disliking fictional characters or organizations. But I have a lot of feelings.
So I’ve been thinking about a few things and a few things have been brought to my attention that I haven’t seen brought up before. So the quest for Teagan, with the crops and stuff, I know this is a sticking point and possibly could be disregarded because it’s an optional quest, but if Teagan knew Maxson wouldn’t approve of strong arming settlers for crops, why would he tell *you* to do it? I know you can complete the quest other ways, but looking at his voice lines he’s pretty gung-ho on the strong-arming part. He has zero reason to think you wouldn’t march on up to Maxson and tell him Teagan’s trying to put you up to strong-arming settlers, which would lead me to believe he doesn’t have a problem with Teagan putting you up to strong-arming settlers at all.
Also I just... I don’t know if I can believe that Maxson feels bad for killing or trying to kill Danse (depending on how you choose to do it). Like I *want* to believe he does, but Jesus, he’s just so cruel about the whole thing, even if you convince him to spare Danse. And afterward, when you get promoted to Paladin if you clapback at him when he says all of Danse’s stuff is yours now he says “To the victor go the spoils. Being a part of the Brotherhood, you should learn to appreciate that sentiment.” and he is sinister about it, it literally says in the dialogue direction ‘sinister smile’ I feel like there is A LOT loaded into that sentence, knowing that real, actual armies IRL historically and even now operate like this, especially armies who are allowed to operate at will without or with very little government oversight, their whole agenda is to win, take shit and expand and be more formidable. Maxson and the BoS won’t outright say it ever in the game, but looking at their actions and their sentiment, it seems, to me, like that is kind of part of their agenda. Which, I mean, you could argue is fine because they’d be keeping order and killing super mutants but they’d be running things their way, uncontested. Eventually they’d weed out all the synths and kill them - so bye Danse, bye Curie, bye Nick, don’t forget Magnolia and Sturges also - of course they would kill Strong so bye Strong too. They probably wouldn’t let me keep my cool robot workbench or my badass enormous sentrybots with skull faces and minigun hands because that kind of technology isn’t fit for civilians so I’d guess I have to say bye to Ragnarok and Lilith and Lucifer and Azrael (please do not judge my precious children by their sinister names) and Jezebel and Ada too. Oh, and Synth Shaun. They would definitely kill Synth Shaun too.
The thing I learned today which is part of the reason I’m back on this bullshit besides that thread ☝ is after Blind Betrayal Maxson has Danse’s records in the BoS stripped. I just got done in Fallout 3 doing the beginning of the Brotherhood stuff there and I have to go talk to that wizard-looking scribe lady (god I love their stupid outfits in 3, but I digress) and she makes A REALLY BIG DEAL about how their records are so important, every member has a record of the stuff they’ve done and how they’ve died and that��s their legacy. It’s mean, like vindictive. Like, synth or not, he did all of whatever he did. Aside from that, Maxson has literally altered the historical truth - there’s not even record that says “we accidentally a synth, this is what he did and we killed him because synths are bad” Again, like, thinking about real-world historical examples of people intentionally altering pieces of history to erase people or groups of people or what people have done - the reason behind actions like that have never been good.
And I’ve been thinking a lot about the whole, the people of the Commonwealth are bigots thing a lot. Yes, they are scared of synths because of the wrath The Institute has brought down on the people. They’re also scared of Raiders and Gunners. They’re scared of anything that stands between them and being safe and fed. Like, listen, they understand the difference between a human dude walking up into their settlement and a Raider, I feel like if someone bothered to take a second to explain to them Not All Synths(tm) work for The Institute and a lot of them are actually really nice and might brew you a stimpack or help you solve a noir mystery or take care of your feral infestation down the road they would be receptive to it. They would be especially receptive of it if the person telling them that was the head of the organization keeping them safe and fed >.> Would they be perfectly accepting? Probably not, but they would probably let them live for two seconds without throwing a fit. They would probably not shoot-to-kill on sight. Even the people in Diamond City who talk shit about Nick aren’t out there trying to murder him.
Kind of in that same vein, let’s talk about Desdemona and the Minutemen for a second. Because I feel like, and maybe I’m wrong about the intention, my girl got slandered into making it look like she doesn’t support The Minutemen. If you fail your covert op any number of ways, she literally says you can use them to forcibly liberate the Synths. Hell, if you haven’t met Preston yet, she’ll tell you where he is and to go find him because she thinks The Minutemen can help. She’ll only go off on you if you don’t sound the evacuation alarm. If you destroy The Institute with The Minutemen and you sound the alarm, like Preston tells you on no uncertain terms to do, she’ll call you “The destroyer of the Institute. Liberator of the synths.” and say “My only regret is we couldn't have been there when you did it.“ When you talk with her about the people trying to hurt the Synths that made it out of the destruction of The Institute and she says “ They're vigilantes and bigots. They don't recognize anyone's laws. Not even yours.” I don’t think she’s talking about ALL the people, she’s talking about people who are vigilantes and bigots which, if you do the quests to go rescue the Synths, usually bring you to Raider dens, who aren’t your people and you’re working against anyway. The gangs that hunt Synths that she has you clear out after The Institute is destroyed are Raider gangs. John the Farmer in buttfuck egypt out by the glowing sea isn’t slaughtering Synths, he’s busy with his farm and his water purifier that doesn’t work and Gunners attacking him weekly. When it comes down to it, how many people like John the Farmer are going to bite the hand that feeds them and fixes his water purifier and fucks up the Gunners if that hand is The Minutemen and they say Synths are OK (because they are, generally)?
and RE: danger synths and Acadia and stuff... so I’m trying to unpack the whole, weird Acadia lore that magically allows for DiMA to insert memories that he didn’t have in the first place into synth replacements (e.g. you kill Tektus, stuff his body in a wall, but DiMA can make a “perfect replica” of him with nothing to go on?) I’m assuming when it was said that synths pose a unique danger that humans don’t, this is what was being referenced - that Synths can be messed around with to replace humans in order to manipulate whatever. Putting Acadia aside for juuuuuuust a second - because of the weird magic lore contradiction - there’s a couple of points about this. We see very few people in the game who have the resources, the technology and the know how to actually mess with a Synth’s brain. Even the people supposedly the best at replacing people with “perfect copies”, The Institute, are still kind of shit at it. Every single infiltrator that we see in the game knows what they are and gets called out by someone who figures out what they are. The “perfect copy” idea is hysteria - possibly even propaganda from The Institute itself. The only contradiction to that is what DiMA did in Acadia and honestly, I have no idea how to explain that. That’s all aside from the fact that, technically, in this universe humans have the ability to do the same thing. We know humans can be face changed. Deacon says he was both a girl and a ghoul (the ghoul incident is legit and backed up by terminal entries in the Railroad) and to be either of those from being human dude Deacon, you would have to get a voice change so that has to be a thing, right? Take a human who knows enough about another human, physically turn that human into the other human, and you have someone replaced, no Synths needed. And even Far Harbor, who will, with certain choices, go destroy Acadia don’t destroy them just because they’re synths, they destroy Acadia because Acadia murdered and replaced Avery.
Which brings me to the final thought I had because holy crap I just wrote for like two hours and I’m tired and out of steam now. I keep really, really wanting to like the BoS and Maxson because they have the neat stuff and a lot of their people are cool and my friends like them but I just, like, can’t as long as they’re a faction that advocates for the genocide of Synths. That’s the one sticking point I have. I could maybe even tolerate them hanging around the Commonwealth where they maybe shouldn’t be, I could maybe see them through a nefarious lens than I do if I knew they wouldn’t come to Sanctuary and wipe out a third of my population because of how they were made - if they weren’t trying to kill my friends and my synth son. Honestly, I love a lot of fanon stuff about Maxson and the BoS because it changes that but canon, in the game, that’s what they would do.
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𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐞.
( GIGI HADID, CISFEMALE, SHE/HER ) Oh hello, you must be LÉONIE MONTBELLIARD it’s so nice to meet you. Is it true that you’re a 18 year old REGULAR student and in your SEVENTH YEAR? I should warn you, rumour has it you’re pretty TEMPERAMENTAL & RECKLESS but I think you’re really CAREFREE & AUDACIOUS - people like to gossip around here, but you’ll find out for yourself. Let me show you to CHAMBERLAIN. ( JOCEY, 23, EST, SHE/HER )
yes. I KNOW. i am back with yet another one. bcuz i’m trash. just love me plz and hit that like button to plot with my new bby.
name : léonie marie juliette montbelliard nickname : whatever you can come up with age : eighteen gender : cisfemale sexuality : pansexual hometown : paris, france
━ voici léonie montbelliard, the hot mess extraordinaire™. she is all over the place, hence this intro will probs be all over the place and that is not at all my fault honestly. but forrealz, she never has her shit together. her aesthetic is probably drunk girl stumbling home at 5am in a mini dress, with her heels in one hand, a bottle of half-drunken tequila in the other, and she’s just living her best life yet she simultaneously hates it.
━ she was born into a very, very wealthy french family and allegedly has familial ties to the dubai royal family on her mom’s side. her parents were basically rich enough to throw money at people to make even more money for them (i.e. they were investors). unfortunately, some of said people weren’t exactly involved in the most legal of businesses, which led to the death of her parents when she was only three years old. there were whispers of the mafia being responsible, but in the official police report, it was a mugging gone wrong.
━ after the death of her parents, leonie was bounced around from family member to family member. even at an early age, she was a problem child and without her parents, it was even worse. eventually, it was her uncle who took her in. he was the youngest of her father’s siblings, had no kids of his own and always lived a bachelor’s lifestyle. having his six-year-old niece thrown into his life did put a damper on things, but that was why boarding schools existed, right?
━ she was close with her uncle jacques, but he was never the parental figure that she needed. growing up, leonie got away with practically everything. the more she got away with, the more she pushed the boundaries, trying to outdo herself each time. she’d been expelled from so many schools that she was practically starting at a new one every other fall. eventually, her grandmother stepped in and held leonie’s trust fund over her head. the deal was to attend bodley manor and to stay enrolled until graduation, or she could say goodbye to her trust fund. the choice was simple, really.
━ she may have promised not to get expelled, but she didn’t say anything about being a model student. it definitely helped that her uncle was just as keen on writing as many donation cheques as it took to keep her from getting expelled. the second leonie stepped foot into bodley manor, they were already in for crazy time. throwing a party in the headmaster’s office while he was away, sneaking in hot kingsley boys every weekend, bringing pot brownies for the school bake sale, getting crates of champagne delivered to the school - the list was endless.
━ everyone knows leonie for being the wild party girl. seriously, she has the tolerance of a frat boy and can drink anyone under the table. it’s honestly a miracle that she hasn’t needed a new liver yet. but she is also known to be pretty crazy and unhinged sometimes, and tends to have a dark sense of humour. she once took a golf club and went all carrie underwood on her ex’s new range rover after he dumped her. she never had a boyfriend again after that. she was also suspected of being involved in the kingsley fire and was at risk of being expelled, but she’s back and better than ever babyyy.
━ fun fact: she’s never once slept with easton hawthorne, nor does she have any desire to. she’s pretty sure that makes her like a unicorn or something. buuut she has gone through most of the kingsley boys, if she were being honest. quite frankly, if someone claimed to have slept with her, she’d probably agree that it happened even if it didn’t because who can really keep track nowadays? not her apparently.
WANTED CONNECTIONS.
HOE SQUAD ━ they don’t have to be hoes. leonie can be the hoe mascot idfk. but basically just a squad who accepts her for who she is, y’know?? gimme the carrie, miranda and charlotte to her samantha, or something. or they can all be samantha’s. taken by ava turner, valentina fernandez PLATONIC SOULMATES OF YOUR DREAMS ━ exactly what it sounds like. it’s a judgement-free, all love friendship because they’re probably both hot messes. think this and this. leaning towards a m/f friendship cuz i’m a hoe for them. taken by maddy vasquez FRENEMIES ━ some days they’re friends, some days they’re not. just depends on the mood and how much leonie wants to grind their gears that day. may not be the best of friends, but leonie sometimes goes to them ‘bout stuffs cuz they give pretty good advice? basically: this and this. taken by poppy beaumont GOOD INFLUENCE ━ this person is different from all of leonie’s typical friends because they’re a good influence on her and actually kind of maybe makes her wanna not be so much of a shit show?? she’s done a lot of dumb shit to push this person away because she’s conflicted about the effect they have on her, but they’ve stuck by her regardless. taken by max petrov BAD INFLUENCE ━ two diff plots here, but they’re called the same thing cuz idk ok?? #1 is leonie is the bad influence on someone who typically tries to stay out of trouble, but for whatever reason, she keeps talking you into doing dumb shit with her. taken by julian hwang #2 is this person is a bad influence on leonie and always encourages her crazy shenanigans, maybe even suggests crazier shenanigans for the two of them to get into. taken by logan cheong CURRENT/EX FLINGS/HOOK-UPS ━ leonie gets around, but never had a boyfriend/girlfriend/real relationship after her carrie underwood tribute. we can make it as messy as we want. taken by preston morgans, alia bradenton EX-BOYFRIEND ━ her one real, actual relationship that went down in flames after he dumped her and she wrecked his range rover (or whatever type of car, i can change it lol). she’s still kinda hung up on him despite all the shit that went down and maybs they still hook-up every now and then. taken by ethan donaghues
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Companions react to Sole becoming the leader of the Institute, but making the wastelands a better place with the institute's technology and not being a jackass like their son was(also random reminder that you are indeed a beautiful, elegant creature).
ahhh thank you so much
it’s late here and I’m kind of tired so this might not be my best work. I’m a little rusty too but I hope you enjoy :)
Codsworth: He’s confident in their intentions. He knows what kind of person they are and he’s so goddamn proud of them for using what used to be a source of fear and pain and turning it into something good. It would have been a waste for them to just destroy the Institute given all the resources and technology it contained that could (and now are) be used to help others.
He’s deeply saddened by how everything went down with Shaun but he’s proud that Sole isn’t going the same route. He takes to synth Shaun instantly honestly. He might as well be the same person he took care of as a baby.
He’s confident that with Sole..this Shaun will grow up to be what the original should have been if things hadn’t gone so horribly wrong.
Preston: He’s unsettled by their decision to become leader of the Institute but he trusts them. He knows they’re a good person and any doubts he has are wiped away as he watches them turn the Institute into what it should have been in the first place.
Not only is the Institute one of the good guys now but alongside the Minutemen they can do so, so much good for the people of the Commonwealth (and even beyond). He’s never been prouder of them. He never would have expected this outcome but that’s just fine with him.
The Commonwealth was saved the day Sole walked out of that vault.
Piper: She does NOT respond well to the news that they’ve decided to become leader of the Institute. She’s angry. She’s hurt and she feels betrayed. They were supposed to bring this awful organization down and they decided to join them?
She probably is very aloof at first but time passes and she begins to think back on things. She knows them. The Institute was an awful force in the Commonwealth but Sole is anything but. She..decides to find them and listen to what they have to say.
This is Sole. She knows them. She’s not exactly comfortable with their decision but she’s willing to give them a chance. When they really do turn the Institute into a force for good she feels guilty for ever doubting them. She’s more than happy to spread the news too.
“The Institute: Boogeymen No Longer.” (this is a terrible article title..i’ll leave the article writing to Piper)
If you read the article she writes if you side with the Institute it’s really touching because despite her initial reaction she clearly comes to accept it because it’s Sole and she trusts them to do what’s right.
Nick: He has a similar reaction to Piper but he feels it on an even more personal level than Piper does because of his connection to the Institute. How could they?He immediately demands they tell him why because they better have a damn good reason for doing so.
He’s so hurt but he listens because..they have to have a reason for doing this. Sole is his partner and his best friend and that’s why he listens because he can’t bring himself to believe they would do this will ill intentions.
But Nick is idealistic and while he’s a little unsure about their plan he’s willing to listen and see what happens. He’s willing to work with them as long as they stay true to who they are.
As time goes on and he sees that it’s truly a force for good now he makes his peace with their decision. How could he have ever doubted them in the first place? He’s so very proud of them.
Hancock: He’s not sure what he thinks of the decision. He sure as hell hates the Institute but he knows Sole. He knows they’re not that kind of person. He believes them when they say they’re going to make the Commonwealth a better place.
Any doubts he might have had are erased as time goes on and Sole uses the Institute to help the Commonwealth. He’s proud of them and he’s never loved them more then he does now. Who would have thought they could turn such a shitshow into something good? Well, he should have known. If anyone could do it..Sole could.
Maccready: Honestly Mac really doesn’t care. The Institute is creepy and all but Sole is his best friend (or lover) and he knows them. He finds their quest to save the world a bit ridiculous but he supposes it’s..admirable even if it makes him roll his eyes. He can see the logic in their decision when they explain it to him. Why waste resources right? And..maybe some of these resources could be used to help Duncan
Regardless he doesn’t care. He’s loyal to them and he’d follow them into hell and back. He just hopes they make a choice they can live with. If they’re happy he’s happy.
Cait: Cait really doesn’t give a fuck. She thinks they’re far too idealistic but they’re her best friend (or lover) and she’ll be there by their side no matter what they choose. The institute is kind of..stuffy for her liking but she tolerates Sole leading them. Her loyalty is to them and them choosing to lead a bunch of Eggheads isn’t gonna change that.
Curie: She’s thrilled. The amount of technology and information the Institute has..and now it can be used to help people. She never once doubts Sole’s intentions. She’s not disappointed either because they do exactly what she expected them to do.
She’s also in heaven because there is SO much to learn and so many new opportunities. She’s at the forefront of finding ways to use the Institute’s resources to help the Commonwealth.
Longfellow: He just kind of eyes them skeptically and asks them why they chose to do it. They certainly seem like a bunch of awful people but he’s willing to listen because surely they have a good reason. He’s a bit skeptical but when they actually do use it as a force for good he’s fine with it. They’re a bit of a stuffy group but he can’t deny that they’re helping people.
Gage: Scorn. He doesn’t understand why they’d want to lead the Institute. Although he knows power when he sees it and he’s interested in the possibilities this opens up.He thinks their insistence on charity is ridiculous but hey they’re the overboss. Of more than a group of raiders too. He can dig that. He just wishes they’d stop wasting resources on..helping people.
He never thought highly of the Institute (or any other faction for that matter) but he loves Sole and well, if they wanna lead a bunch of eggheads who’s he to argue. He’s particularly interested in what they could gain from this however.
Danse (pre-BB) His first initial reaction to them accepting the position is anger. How could they? This is going against everything they believe in. He just wants to know why. Their explanation is..he’s unsure about it.
In theory using the Institute’s resources to help instead of hurt people is a great idea but the nature of the Institute makes him wary. He gives them a chance though because he trusts them. He loves them and he has faith in them.
He’s so proud of them when they do turn it into a force for good.
However..there is an elephant in the room and it’s the synths. He’s not going to be happy if they continue producing synths. He’ll be vehemently opposed but I wonder if perhaps he would grudgingly accept it since they would be under Sole’s control and leadership.
I don’t know? He would not be happy about it though. That I do know.
Post-BB: He’s confused. Why? He’s angry but most of all he’s hurt and confused. Why would they join them? Lead them? He’s unsure but he knows them. If anyone can turn the Institute into a force for good it’s Sole.
When they actually go forward and do so..he’s never been prouder of them. He naturally is never fond of the place itself but Danse can respect that it contains resources they could use for the good of mankind. It would be easy to misuse something like that but it’s Sole and he trusts them not to. It was a smart tactical decision in retrospect. It would have been a waste of resources.
I’m unsure how he’d respond if they continued producing synths. He’s a synth after all but he still seems to hang on to a lot of BoS rhetoric even post-BB (to be fair it would take a long time to unlearn that kind of brainwashing) Hm..I don’t think he would want them to make synths regardless of his true identity. It just doesn’t mesh with the way he sees things and while hopefully one day he can make peace with his identity and come to see they’re not monsters (and neither is he) he still thinks it’s..unethical.
Maxson: He’s fucking pissed at first. He feels betrayed (god knows we know he doesn’t respond well to that) and he’s astonished they have the gall to come onto his ship and tell him they’re going to be leading the Institute. He demands they tell him why the hell they would do such a thing or he’s going to do what they came to do in the first place. He can end the Institute right here right now.
He gives them a chance to speak though because they say they have a reason and they better have a good fucking reason for doing this.
He’s..unsure. While he can agree the Institute has technology and resources that could be used to help the Commonwealth he also knows they’re the same organization that created synths, that killed and terrorized the Commonwealth.
They’re so..earnest in their plea for him to just give them a chance. He relents and..he finds that he’s been doing that for them quite often hasn’t he? He’s suspicious and aloof for a while but they’re actions speak louder than words to him.
They did come to save the Commonwealth and that’s what Sole is doing. He can respect the logic in their decision. In retrospect maybe destroying all the knowledge the Institute contained was a bit..impulsive.
If the right cards are played I think he would come to some sort of agreement. Mutual gain. If they’re going to use it for good he can respect that. He does care about the people of the Commonwealth and Sole is helping them. Not quite in the way he imagined but perhaps this is better.
He’d probably be a bit pushy because he thinks the BoS should have control but..he trusts them. If they work alongside them he can tolerate it.
HOWEVER
I see an issue when it comes to the fact that the Institute does produce synths. Would Sole continue to do so? Is it ethical to do so? We know Maxson’s opinion on that.
I’m not so sure he would be willing to accept this if they continued to produce synths. They might end..tragically for at least one side. He’s not going to accept that.
X6: He’s pleased when they accept the position. That was the plan after all. However..he does find their desire to help these wastelanders a little annoying. Why waste resources on these wretches? The future is here. In the Institute not out there in that godforsaken wasteland.
They’re going to butt heads over this but he eventually comes to grudgingly accept that they’re going to continue to charitable. He trusts them though and hopes they remember what really is important. The Institute. He’s as loyal as ever even if he does roll his eyes behind those sunglasses a lot.
Deacon: He thinks they’re joking honestly. He cracks a joke but they fall flat because Sole isn’t laughing. When he realizes they’re serious..Deacon doesn’t get angry easy but Deacon is fucking pissed. It feels like betrayal but he listens because surely they must have a good reason..they must..because they wouldn’t? Would they?
He’s..not sure how he feels about it but their plan seems like a good one..but could it work? He’s very pleased when he starts seeing real change. In retrospect it’s smart of them to use the resources they have at hand instead of throwing a bomb at it.
With the leader of the Institute working aside The Railroad real change can occur. Not only for the people of the Commonwealth but for synths and hey, that’s something Deacon is more than happy to be a part of.
Strong: As long as Sole still smashes with him sometimes he doesn’t particularly care? He doesn’t like the Institute though but in his eyes they conquered it and he can respect that. It’s like..a new, stronger leader taking over in his eyes. Since strength is something super mutants hold in such high regard.
Dogmeat: He doesn’t care. In truth Dogmeat is the most morally dubious of the companions because he loves the Sole Survivor unconditionally. If you killed everyone in the Commonwealth he would still love you ;)
The first part is a joke of course. Dogmeat is a pure and good boy.
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There’s a growing number of well-intentioned progressives who view purchasing memberships to the Conservative Party of Canada and voting in the leadership race as an effective way to stop the “alt-right” in Canada.
Ipolitics credits Gonzalo Riva with being the first to publicly propose this idea, and was soon followed by former Green Party president, Dave Bagler, who amplified this message among Green voters. Musicians Amy Millan and fellow Stars bandmate Torquil Campbell joined in on Twitter, and an opinion piece in Chatelaine was published suggesting that it’s possible to spend $15 for a membership and “cast a vote for someone without toxic and divisive values, hopefully preventing permanent damage to our country.”
While supporters of this idea remain disparate and largely unorganized, it is one that is beginning to circulate widely on social media, and it can seem like attractive shortcut tomany of those engaging with politics for the first time. That’s why it is worth engaging with this idea on its own terms, and unpacking the danger lurking just behind its good intentions.
Why do they think this is a good idea?
The argument for joining the Conservative Party can be summarized as follows:
With the rise of Donald Trump and the emboldening of the far right (or “alt-right”) around the world, progressives need to do everything we can to stop the far right from taking power in Canada. Kellie Leitch, running in the Conservative leadership race, represents the real and present danger of a white nationalist, anti-immigrant candidate taking over a major political party. This will give hateful ideas a greater platform, and enable the far right to incite more acts of racist, Islamophobic attacks.
In order to stop this from happening, progressive-minded individuals only have to spend $15 to become a member of the party and vote for the more ‘progressive’ alternative in the leadership race. The candidate of choice for most of these progressive-minded voters is Michael Chong, the MP for Wellington-Halton Hills in Ontario.
In short, joining the Conservatives and influencing the outcome of their leadership race is a form of political engagement that involves a low level of investment (of time and money) and a high level of return.
However, given that this leadership race will be decided by votes from riding associations rather than individual members, it is not enough for people to cast a single ballot — the goal, therefore, is for progressives to join in such numbers that they can carry the vote in less populated riding associations.
What’s the problem?
There are both short-term and long-term problems with this strategy. In the short term— assuming for a moment that it even could achieve its stated aim— the strategy underestimates the amount of new memberships and organizational coordination that would be required to actually have an impact on the outcome. Continuing such a scattershot approach will only succeed in wasting everyone’s time and money.
Further, most accounts have failed to understand the actual dynamics at play in the Conservative leadership race, and have been actively distorting both the current level of support that Leitch has inside the party, and who the real frontrunners are: O’Leary, Bernier, and Scheer.
Chong, the preferred choice of these ‘strategic Tories’, is a second-tier candidate who (much like Lisa Raitt) is trying to position himself as a kingmaker. That is, Chong is trying to position himself as the one who will be able to bring enough votes to a frontrunner in order to secure their victory (and, in the process, ensure a future cabinet position for himself).
But beyond these practical problems, there are long-term political problems with this strategy that makes it an issue of concern for the broader Left:
You will be fundraising for the Conservative Party. There’s no way around this one: you will be engaging in a unique fundraising effort for the Tories, and a faction within the party will be more than happy to amplify your efforts in order to reach beyond their current fundraising base. In response, these strategic Tories say that they have or will make a similarly-sized donation to a progressive organization as a way to mitigate the harm — which actually concedes the point that with their donation, they are doing harm. Most commonly, they reply that their individual donation too negligible to make a difference. But it isn’t only a $15 donation — it is $15 multiplied by however many others they will be able to persuade to join along with them. The criticism isn’t so much that they are giving $15, but that they are actively trying to facilitate hundreds of other people to do the same.
You will be lending progressive legitimacy to the Right. The primary effect of this campaign will be to lend an aura of progressive “legitimacy” to a specific faction inside the Conservative Party — and, by extension, to the Conservative Party itself. But every faction, regardless of who they are backing for leader, is unified through their party membership to policies that attack poor and working-class people, indigenous sovereignty, women’s reproductive rights, immigrants and refugees, civil liberties, the LGBTQ+ community, democratic institutions, and the future health and viability of our planet (to name only the most notable themes from the Harper years). Put simply, progressives have no allies inside the Conservative Party, and it is irresponsible to suggest otherwise.
You will be disorganizing progressive movements. Globally, we are currently going through an intense period of political crisis, with growing polarization and thousands of individuals becoming politically active for the very first time. From women’s marches to anti-Trump and anti-racist demonstrations, there is a significant number of future organizers and leaders actively seeking out opportunities to get involved and fight for social and economic justice in their communities, workplaces, and campuses. This presents a significant opening for the Left, and we don’t have the luxury to be squandering people’s time and energy by sending them down paths that lead nowhere.
Is Michael Chong a “progressive” alternative?
As I already mentioned, the candidate supported by these strategic Tories is Michael Chong. A recent article describes Chong as a “principled progressive candidate” and “a moral and principled leader” with a platform that is “bold, pragmatic, and progressive while maintaining a conservative approach to governance.”
Were it only people with already existing sympathies for “conservative approach[es] to governance”, I don’t think it would be necessary to respond in much detail. But the truth is that a range of individuals, from greens to social democrats, seem to be under similar illusions about Chong’s progressive credentials. So let’s look briefly at both his leadership platform and his record in parliament.
In the Economic section of his leadership platform, he is pushing standard neoliberal policies that come straight out of the Fraser Institute playbook. He wants to:
Reduce personal income taxes by $14.9 billion a year. This would be an absolute reduction in personal income taxes of 10%
Flatten the personal income tax system from five rates to two rates, keeping the current 15% and 29% rates and the current thresholds
Simplify the personal income tax system by eliminating half of the $22.9 billion in tax expenditures identified by the Fraser Institute
Reduce corporate income taxes by $1.9 billion a year. This would be an absolute reduction in corporate income taxes of 5%
Absolute income tax reductions will disproportionately benefit the rich, as will a flattening of the income tax system as a whole. Canada’s already low corporate tax rates will be slashed even further, and positions Chong nowhere outside of the hard-right orthodoxy. A few boutique tax credits for working people will do little to nothing to offset the structural harm that these massive reductions for the 1% would entail.
And there is nothing in here for progressives to celebrate on the environmental front, either. Chong is touted by some for his “ambitious” revenue neutral carbon tax, and despite being attacked for it by some of his fellow Conservative leadership contenders, don’t be fooled: it is perfectly in line with mainstream Conservative thinking on this issue (and is backed by none other than arch-Conservative Preston Manning), and is a laughably inadequate tool for confronting the enormity of the climate crisis.
Beyond his leadership platform, it’s always worth taking a trip down memory lane to see what sort of legislation Chong has supported in the House of Commons. Here is a random sampling of legislation from the Harper years that Chong was happy to support:
Bill C-23, The Fair Elections Act
Bill C-51, the draconian “anti-terrorism” act
S-7, “Zero Tolerance for Barbaric Cultural Practices Act”
Bill C-525, Employees’ Voting Rights Action
Bill C-10, Safe Streets and Communities Act
Bill 377, An Act to amend the Income Tax Act (requirements for labour organizations)
And it goes on. Just take your pick.
From violations of civil rights and workers’ rights to legislation that courted outright bigotry, Chong has hidden his ‘progressive’ credentials quite well. And while Chong has come out in support of M-103 and has been publicly critical of the Conservative Party’s more overt courting of the racist right, he does so with the aim of continuing Jason Kenney’s cynical approach of targeting select immigrant communities. If nothing else, Chong is smart Conservative who recognizes that they have to expand beyond their traditional (and aging) white base —which makes him a more far-sighted enemy of progressive movements.
A symptom of a deeper problem
The belief that joining the party of the party of militarism, bigotry, and the 1% can lead to any outcome other than the strengthening militarism, bigotry and the 1% is naive at best and dangerous at worst. But it’s all too easy for those of us on the left to dismiss the anxieties of those calling for such a strategy without taking a look in the mirror as to why this would appear as a viable option.
This strategy reflects a low level of confidence in existing progressive movements or organization to effectively fight back against the far right at both a local and national level, and suggests that negotiating the terms of one’s own oppression will produce greater returns than building a force to outright oppose it.
People will use the tools at their disposal in order to best advance their goals, and we are in desperate need of effective tools.
The late Mark Fisher coined the term “capitalist realism” to describe “the widespread sense that not only is capitalism the only viable political and economic system, but also that it is now impossible even to imagine a coherent alternative to it.” The ‘progressive for Chong’ phenomenon is but one morbid symptom of this condition.
Since the economic crisis of 2008, we have been in an era of periodic bursts of anger and rebellion, but they have not coalesced into a sustained, mass-based movement across the country. As people grapple with how best to defend their own lives, their families, and their friends from the threat of the far right, we need to make sure that we building credible vehicles to take us toward a future that is fairer and more just than the one we currently live in. Otherwise, we can expect a lot worse than lesser-evilism to rear its head.
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Is It Better To Pay Off A Mortgage Or Invest?
Is It Better To Pay Off Mortgage Or Invest?
One of the biggest debates in the financial world has to do with the question….Is it better to pay off mortgage or invest?
As someone who has followed Dave Ramsey’s 7 Baby Steps, let’s take a look at what he’s recently had to say about this to callers on his show.
Is It Better To Pay Off Mortgage Or Invest?
Caller #1
The first caller (35-yr-old) was debt-free except for his mortgage and had managed to save up quite a bit of cash in his savings.
He owed $180,000 on his mortgage with a 3.25% 30-year fix rate and was having a difficult time convincing himself to pay it off with such a low rate.
His home was worth about $520,000 and household income was $140,000.
His savings included:
$90,000 in non-retirement accounts
$150,000 in a 401k retirement savings
$75,000 in 529 plans
Step 4 in Dave’s Baby Steps is to invest 15% into a retirement account which he was doing (roughly $25,000 per year).
He also was funding 529 plans for his 5 and 8 year old kids so now he was up to Step 6, paying off the home early.
Dave’s recommendation:
Take the $90,000 in savings and throw it at the remaining mortgage. Why? Because of lowering risk giving him a better peace of mind.
Dave quoted several studies and books he’s read about millionaires. He claimed they got to their 7-figure net worth status because of their habits and what they did with their money.
And the two primary financial decisions that those habits caused them to be successful was this:
The first million or two in their 401k
A paid for house.
The millionaires that were studied never said anything about borrowing money at 3.25% so that they can invest it and make a better rate of return. In essence, he was saying they paid off their homes aggressively even though their interest rate was low.
Some people will state that because their interest rate is low (i.e. 3.25%) they’ll forgo paying off the house aggressively to invest. Most millionaires, according to Dave, don’t operate in that fashion.
Once they get the house paid off, they then use the increased cash flow of not having a house payment to start heavily investing mainly in index funds that track the stock market.
Dave states, “100% of the foreclosures occur on a house with a mortgage.”
He’s all about setting financial goals of lowering risk and getting out of debt. He’s built his empire on this strategy.
Caller #2
The second caller had a different scenario as he wasn’t yet putting Dave’s recommendation of 15% into retirement yet.
Here’s his personal finance stats:
$105,000 left on the mortgage
$10,000 in savings
$50,000 household income
After paying his monthly bills, he had $1,800 left over.
He asked Dave, “Would it be a good idea to start investing $1,000 a month now or just use that extra money to pay on my mortgage?”
Because he wasn’t yet investing 15% of his income or $7,500/yr, Dave recommended that he started doing that first before paying any extra on the house.
We all know that Dave recommends, no matter what the question a caller has, that the Baby Steps are followed in the EXACT order presented.
Now, I realize that mostly Dave Ramsey is for the average income earner. But for me, I felt like early on when I had student loans and a mortgage, I could do both:
Pay aggressively on all debt (including the house) AND invest.
I didn’t want to miss out on the compounding interest.
Let’s take a look at what another money expert has to say about: Is it better to pay off mortgage or invest….
The Money Guy
Brian Preston over at The Money Guy Show also answers this question frequently from people that either:
are debt-free but not much saved up for retirement
want to know is it better to pay off mortgage or invest with interest rates so low
Here’s how he recently answered it from a caller:
Dear Brian,
Help please. We have a house and plan on paying it off in five years. There’s no other debt, but we have no retirement fund.
My husband isn’t worried about it.
I am.
He has wealthy parents but I want money I can hold, not hope for. We are in our 40’s and the house is worth between $800,000 and $950,000.
My question is, “Can I simply count on the house to act as our retirement fund?”
Brian loves questions like this as he doesn’t see a lot of people talking about in the financial press that the two things you got to unpack is that, “Can you have too much of a good thing with paying off your debt too fast?”
Meaning there’s an opportunity cost that you had, had the debt been paid off instead of letting that money work for you.
And then the second thing is you can go on the other side of the coin where people are worried about, “Why would I ever pay off the debt because interest rates are so low?”
Opportunity Costs
Brian has covered, in detail, financial mistakes people make by age. I’m not going to go into all of the calculations but here’s some of his results….
He discovered the power of a dollar bill, if you start saving when:
you’re 20 years of age, by the time you’re retiring at 65, can be worth $88.
a person starts at 30 years of age, that $1 can be worth $23.
a person who’s 40, it’s $7.
somebody who’s 50, it drops down right below $3.
So you can see that those people who are saving early and often when they’re in their 20’s, it’s a dynamic growth multiplier on your assets, that’s the power of compounding interest.
Brian recommends that we aggressively pay down high-interest debt such as credit card debt and car loans.
But his fear is someone that doesn’t take advantage of the process of compounding interest.
He says that if you’re in your 20’s and 30’s, while you have a multiplier that’s double digits, you need to be investing that money.
He doesn’t recommend that you do too much of a good thing by trying to get completely out of debt because he worries when you’re older (40’s or 50’s), you’ll have a paid for house with no retirement.
He calls this….Too much of a good thing on paying off debt.
When you pay that mortgage off, all you’re essentially doing is just locking down that interest rate savings.
Army of dollar bills
When this interest rate savings is locked down, he states that we furlough our army of dollar bills.
When someone pays their debt off too early, Brian starts to get nervous.
Why?
Think about it.
Essentially every dollar that you prepay on the mortgage, that army is going into your house and they’re all looking at each other going:
“What are we doing here? I could be out there working. I could be bringing more money back to the army, but we’re stuck here. We’re all furloughed, hanging out, wondering why we’re not growing.”
The person that originally asked Brian, “Can I simply count on the house to act as our retirement fund?” wanted liquidity.
Last time I checked, you can’t retire off your house assets until you sell it. If she has a paid for house with no savings, things could go south in a hurry (i.e. another Coronavirus pandemic).
Also, you can’t go to the grocery store and buy food based on the value of a house, right?
Here’s another thing to thing about. If you love where you live and love your house, you’re not going to want to move.
Follow up question
Brian also answered this follow up question:
Is there a time when it does make sense or should you ever prepay your mortgage especially when interest rates are low?
Brian disagrees with those that say we should NEVER pay off the mortgage. His thoughts are that as we near retirement in our 50’s and 60’s, he wants us to reach financial independence.
This means that we have no obligations to anyone and that obligations extends out to debt.
For many people, the emotional benefit of being debt-free can outweigh the analytics of the calculation.
Plus don’t forget on that calculation discussed earlier, by the time you’re in your 50’s, it’s less than a three times multiplier.
So the opportunity cost of what you’re missing out for decreases as you age. If you think about, if you pay off your house completely when you’re in your mid fifties or in your sixties, your opportunity cost is not that bad.
Let the emotional benefit as well as the true financial independence weigh the scale of decision making at that point versus trying to always have money working and having that risk of what’s going on out there in the world of finance. (It seems to be that it’s going to come down to personal preference, especially risk tolerance.)
Further Analysis To Consider
My good friend over at ESI Money also addressed this issue with an article titled, “Pay Down Mortgage Or Invest.”
Many different scenarios were looked at plus other things to consider such as:
1. Inflation. Those who advocate for the pay off mortgage early, rarely consider the effect of inflation. Why pay off the mortgage quickly using today’s dollars when you can pay off the mortgage using your dollars 20 years from now?
If inflation were to rise at a rate of 2.5% for the next 30 years, your $1 today, will only be worth 50 cents or less in 30 years. By delaying extra payments, our future money will go much further than our current money on our current mortgage debt.
Our income will generally rise, with our mortgage repayments staying the same.
Bottom-line: Mortgage payments get EASIER with time.
2. Maybe you don’t like risk. If you’re risk tolerance is low, it’s best to pay down the mortgage, which is a guaranteed return on investment.
If you prefer moderate risk, consider BOTH investing and paying down the mortgage. (This is the route we chose to do with our current home.)
Many people will argue that paying down your mortgage is risk free. I disagree with this. Yes, it is less risky than investing, but definitely not risk free. By putting all your spare cash into paying down the mortgage, you are limiting your exposure to other assets, thus increasing your exposure to risk.
3. You must also consider your personality. Like me, maybe you hate having debt. Student loan debt, mortgage debt, you want it gone. You like the feeling of being free from debt, even if it means missing out on better financial returns.
It would be silly to recommend investing to someone like this. On the flip side, how bad would you feel missing out on high investment returns should the market explode?
4. What is the mortgage interest rate? If the rate is 10% or higher then it may be better to pay down the mortgage with ALL of your spare cash. What about an 8% mortgage rate? Then maybe 80% of your spare cash on the mortgage and 20% on other investments. A 5% interest rate may see you put 50% of your cash on the mortgage and 50% in investments.
You can come up with your own rule of thumb, depending on the current mortgage interest rate. The higher it is, the better off you will be paying down the mortgage.
Investment returns are unknown, but mortgage rates (when fixed), can be guaranteed. This makes it much easier to use this as the benchmark return, instead of using a hypothetical investment return rate.
5. Do you need the cash? It may not be a good idea to use all your spare cash on paying down the mortgage if you don’t carry any in the form of emergency savings.
6. Are you a good saver? Mortgages are great for poor savers because they act as a forced savings plan.
As a poor saver, if you don’t pay down extra on the mortgage you may not end up investing the difference. Which strategy will you be able to implement with the greatest ease?
7. What are your goals? Do you want to retire in a nice house with not a lot of cash invested? Or an average house with more cash invested? There is no right or wrong answer, as you may be able to do both. But if you had to make a choice, which one most closely aligns with your retirement goals.
My Thoughts
When people ask me questions, I usually answer them if I were in there shoes….what would I do.
When we started our financial journey, I was a die-hard Dave Ramsey follower. I was 100% focused on becoming debt-free, including the mortgage.
That was then, and this is now.
Back then, I knew nothing about what keeping hundreds of thousands of dollars tied up in equity of a home could potentially do to wealth building.
Also, I didn’t know anything about investing in passive real estate which could have paid my mortgage off all while building wealth simultaneously.
Again, I believe it all boils down to personal preference. For me, I’d continue to max out our practice’s retirement account, save any extra money and then invest in passive real estate syndications.
That way, as I continue building new streams of passive income, that could be used to pay extra on the mortgage.
What do you think?
Should you pay off the mortgage or invest?
The post Is It Better To Pay Off A Mortgage Or Invest? appeared first on Debt Free Dr..
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.: casual mania :.
❝ You ought to try putting that one on a leash. ❞
❝ Excuuuse me? ❞ Deacon slide down his sunglasses to stare down at the ex-Paladin of the Brotherhood of Steel. Danse was screwing into a bolt on the left leg of his power armor when he saw the agent walk by with a cigarette in hand.
Still taking a knee, but pausing to finish working on the leg of his suit, Danse looked up and furrowed his brows. ❝ Bethany has been completely out of control lately. And the only people she seems to listen to is you and that freakish ghoul in the tuxedo. ❞
Deacon scarcely let himself get offended by Danse’s judgmental tones, but he managed to rub the agent the wrong way a little too much this time. ❝ One, you’re under the wrong impression. She never listens to me. And two, c’mon, man -- Donald is a great guy and makes a killer suit. Not his fault he loses a fingernail in the pockets sometimes. ❞
❝ It’s disgusting. ❞
❝ So is bigotry, but hey, that’s life! Gotta get a little dirty. ❞
Danse knew that was a jab at his character, the soldier standing to his feet and taking a step towards the other man. ❝ Watch your tongue, citizen. ❞
Deacon huffed. ❝ Tch-- Knock it off, man. This citizen crap, you’re just like the rest of us mongrels of the Commonweath now. ❞ Danse glared at the smaller man, his grip around the screwdriver getting a little tighter. ❝ Also, it would be wise to not insult the one person who gave you a roof over your head. She’s... different, but she could’ve told you to get wrecked and you’d have to deal with it. So, better learn to tolerate some people if you want to get anywhere around here. ❞
❝ Excuse me, gentlemen -- ❞ Nearly on queue, Preston turned the corner, tipping his hat to greet them both. Danse and Deacon shared an awkward glance at one another, knowing very well that if they could agree on one thing, it was their view on Preston.
❝ What? Another settlement needs our help? ❞ Deacon threw out his cigarette into the broken cement and setting his hands to his hip.
❝ Hilarious. Actually, it’s our mutual friend here... ❞
❝ Friend? ❞ asked Danse, his grip loosening on the screwdriver, then setting it on the toolbox next to him.
❝ Maybe not for you big guy, but Bethany’s on her shit again. ❞
Deacon just closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing. ❝ Where? ❞ His voice was dry and expectant of a quick answer.
Before Preston could give an answer, there was a large booming explosion nearby, all three men bracing themselves under the hood of the garage, looking around for the location. Danse catching first glance, saw it came from the northeast side of the neighborhood, a huge smoke cloud rising from the bushes behind one of the settlers homes in Sanctuary.
All three men kept running, Linda meeting them in the middle and grabbing for Prestons arm, dragging him with her and leading the way. ❝ She’s gone completely out of her mind! We were all just having a drink and -- Oh my god -- ❞
In the clearing of burning trees, the silvery haired woman, wearing a torn tee, tied at her side and yellow, high waisted shorts covered in soot and gunpowder, pointing her rifle at the group of trees.
❝ What the fuck are you doing? ❞ Deacon yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth. Just as he finished yelling, Preston elbowed his ribs and pointed to the trees. Stuck onto the trunks’ center, several fragmentation grenades rested there, blinking red lights while being activated. Deacon nearly ripped off his own wig, dragging his nails down his cheeks. ❝ Why the fuck, Bethany?! ❞
Instead of answering, she aimed and shot at one of the trees, the recoil pushing her backwards as well as the explosion from the grenade causing the entire party to take several steps back from the chaos.
Flat on her back, Bethany started laughing hysterically, fragments of metal pierced her skin and caused some light bleeding along her arms and legs. Giving herself a few seconds, she rolled over but tripped over her own feet and fell again, pulling on her hair with laughter again.
❝ Oh my god, what is all this? This wasn’t all here before -- I didn’t see -- ❞ The auburn haired woman covered her mouth as she pointed to the pile of red inhalers by the bottles they’d been drinking from. ❝ I swear, I never saw -- ❞ She began to get hysterical, upsetting herself.
❝ Danse, can you take her -- She’s... I think she got into Bobrov’s. ❞ Preston noticed the empty shot glasses and bottle surrounding a small fire pit, as well as the encasings for the chem jet.
❝ Affirmative, Garvey. ❞ Danse, patting for Linda, she followed, still in her own hysterics while he preached the reckless behaviors involving alcohol and insisted she drink some water before sleeping. To which she agreed to his orders and lectures, not wanting to make anyone else mad.
Back at the clearing, Bethany still couldn’t manage to get her footing, patting around for her rifle until Preston snatched it out of reach and threw it over his back. ❝ That’s all for you -- Haven’t you caused enough trouble? ❞ The laughing stopped, Bethany grabbing for branch to stand herself up, then threw it at him.
❝ Bethany! ❞ It was Deacon now, slapping the stick from midair and looking at her from behind his sunglasses, giving the most distasteful look. ❝ Fuckin’ -- stop. ❞
❝ Fuck you, Deacon -- ❞ Bethany finally shouted, her voice slurred and eyes the color of disease and exhaustion. ❝ Jus’... fuck you... ❞
Preston, sighing heavily, shook his head. ❝ Told you, on her shit again. I dunno what you did, but you think you can handle this on your own? Or you want the gun? ❞
❝ Shit -- ❞ Deacon half thought it would be good to have it, but he shook his head and waved off the Minuteman. ❝ I got this... Just go make sure Captain Metal Head doesn’t drown your girlfriend. ❞
Rolling his eyes at Deacon’s statement, he knew better than to say anything smart back, but simply turned to walk from the situation. ❝ Yeah, whatever. Good luck. ❞
Just the two of them now, Bethany picked up a pile of dead leaves and attempted to throw it at him, missing by several feet. ❝ Really? ❞ Deacon was impressed on the pathetic attempt, actually.
❝ I don’t like hanging out with you -- ❞
❝ Yeah, it’s been a real pleasure babysitting a fucking chem addicted child. ❞
❝ You don’t know shit -- ❞
❝ Why do I even bother trying with you? ❞
She yelled at him in a tantrum, then kicked more leaves until she lost her balance again and fell back. Deacon didn’t budge. She whined, holding her elbow as she scratched it on a rock as she landed. ❝ Why don’t you care? ❞ Her voice was done with yelling now, the jet wearing out finally as she came down from her high and feeling so much more low now.
Now she was playing that game again. The first time he bore a small part of this soul. The second time, he assured her everything was fine. The third time, which was now, he was hardly going to part take in the pity party she started.
❝ Go to bed, Bethany, you’re drunk and stupid. ❞
❝ You hate me. ❞
❝ Yup, sure do. I’m leaving now. ❞
She sat there, crying into her hands, her physical being and emotions mixing up together as she tried to separate what the drugs were doing while wearing off and how she felt. ❝ No, no... Not yet. ❞
Deacon shook his head, grinding his jaw a little bit. ❝ I’m not doing this shit again with you. ❞
❝ She asked me something stupid and I didn’t know how to answer, okay? ❞
If it wasn’t for curiosity, he would’ve kept walking. ❝ Who asked what to you? ❞
❝ Linda... She... ❞ Bethany rubbed her face sloppily, pushing back her messy hair and trying to look up at Deacon. ❝ We just had a few to drink and she was like ‘oh, what are you two, anyway?’ ❞ She sniffed, then laughed at realizing how stupid the question was now and that she was admitting a completely personal conversation to the last person that needed to know any of the details. ❝ Like, how am I supposed to react to that, you know? ❞
Deacon knelt down and poked her forehead. ❝ Like a normal, decent fucking human being, you idiot. With words, not taking a bunch of drugs and blowing up a fucking forest. ❞
❝ Seemed reasonable at the time. ❞
He was exhausted with this, sitting down on the earth across from her, crossing his legs and leaning his face into his hands that where now in the prayer position. ❝ I can’t deal with this, Bethany. You are going to literally get yourself killed or something else and I will not have any part of that. I cannot lose anymore people and you are seriously pushing me. ❞
❝ Are you leaving? ❞
❝ Yeah, I dunno, maybe? Shit, what do you want me to do? Baby you every time you go off the rails? I told you, like, a million times now, I can’t lose anymore people. ❞
❝ You don’t even like me, you tell everyone that. ❞
❝ Oh c’mon -- ❞
❝ ‘She’s my problem, don’t worry’. You said that to Brittany the other day. ❞
❝ You were trying to get her to buy a baseball. ❞
❝ It was in mint condition and would’ve looked great hanging over the bar. ❞
Deacon sighs. He pushed down his shades, getting a better look at Bethany. ❝ You’ve literally created a kingdom in the garbage pile heap that is the Commonwealth. I, for one, bought that baseball and helped you put it on the shelf over the bar just because I knew it’d make you happy. Because it fit what you wanted to achieve here. But, you are my problem. Every time you turn your switch on and go hard, it scares everyone. They don’t know what they’re dealing with and I honestly don’t know either. ❞
She hugs her knees to her chest. ❝ Are you scared of me? ❞
❝ Sometimes. ❞ He wasn’t lying, surprisingly. He didn’t really have to in these moments. Taking off his sunglasses and hanging it from his tee shirt collar, he did this so she knew what he meant. It was their way to figuring out the other’s words, for real. ❝ Mostly scared for you. Funny like, I’ve told you about me and yet all I know is some brief history because you refuse to go into whatever it was that made you the way you are. ❞
❝ What else is there? You had a history that was worth talking about. ❞
❝ Uh, I would beg to differ, actually. ❞
❝ I liked hearing you talk about it. ❞
❝ About pain and suffering? You really are something else... ❞
Bethany bit her bottom lip. ❝ That’s not what I meant... You did... something bad and you’re one of the good guys now. I’m trying to figure that out... ❞
Deacon was confused by the statement. There wasn’t much he could say to judge that statement, but what else could she have done? She was making up for a lot she’d done, riding along with the Operators for sometime. Hell, it wasn’t uncommon for people to lose their way and come back, but he knew that wasn’t what was bothering her. ❝ You’re, uh, not doing people bad by giving them a place to settle down. Ghouls, synths, the rest of us. If we’re erasing tallies, you might be getting close. ❞
She pushed her bangs back, whimpering again. The booze had yet to have worn off completely. It was probably best to have the conversation later, but she was stuck in the moment. ❝ I don’t know what happened to me, Deacon. I never thought I was a bad person, but I never was all that great. Just, over and over again, I needed to survive. I needed to be the last one standing... ❞ She was rambling now, Deacon finding it hard to follow, but he continued to let her speak. ❝ --He said I would get in his way, that I was what was wrong with society. I am... was... But what’s wrong with pretty things? What’s wrong with wanting to be pretty-- What’s... My head hurts... ❞
❝ Who was he? ❞ Deacon had to interrupt her at that last point.
❝ That... overseer. Harry Soups or something. ❞ She held her head as it pounded a bit louder. ❝ Am I mad? Sometimes things get so hazy... Like static in my head. ❞
Deacon had honestly forgotten from time to time that she’d come from the prewar vaults. She’d seen so much of the Commonwealth and only constructed her old world luxuries, but never talked about them. It was strange to watch most of the time, but he found it better to not ask her questions about it, or else she would just become more aloof in the other direction.
❝ I don’t... really understand what they did to you. But it seems like they really tried to mess you up. ❞
❝ 200 years of being buried in a metal tunnel can do that to a person, yeah... ❞
He honestly couldn’t even think how long that would have been, at least several generations but he never saw more than three walking around the cities and settlements, if they were lucky enough to live that long.
❝ Can we head back if you’re done blowing up trees now? ❞
❝ I guess that might be best. ❞ Despite the headache, she at least sounded like the calmer Bethany Deacon was more used to spending his days with.
Getting back up to his feet, he helped Bethany to hers, then got her steady as she rubbed her head to message the pain out of it, or at least an attempt to.
❝ Wait... ❞ She pauses him, pushing him away from an arm’s distance.
❝ What is it? ❞
❝ What are we, anyway? ❞
Taking his shades off the collar of his shirt, he tries to place them back on his face but not before Bethany takes him by the wrist and stops him from trying to cover up the truth.
Knowing very well he was caught and forced to speak on something as closely related to the truth as possible, the agent bit the inside of his cheek before answering. ❝ You’re my problem. And I guess I gotta stick around to take care of that. ❞
Releasing his wrist, telling him in gestures to finish placing his glasses to cover his eyes, it was the only decent answer she was going to get. And, in truth, she probably couldn’t handle another answer other than that.
❝ Please do, I hear she’s an honest to goodness mess. ❞
❝ Call me the Janitor, I suppose. ❞
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