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everydayyoulovemeless · 5 months

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Can we get a "Cait idolizes you" post please?

[Cait Idolizes You]

➼ Word Count » 0.7k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ Genre » Headcanons based on how Cait treats you once idolized

Cait feels like she owes you her life and will be at your beck and call, waiting for anything she could possibly do to even make an attempt at paying you back for sticking with her for as long as you have, even if you tell her none of it's necessary, and you love her for her.

Now that she's officially off the chems, she'll try and do more community service-type deeds to clean up her act. She's not much of a fan, but she does need something to do, and what's more exciting than helping Preston and Sturges set up a few more houses? (everything, but she's still grateful to be a part of it)

She's the first to volunteer whenever you say you're headed off to do a quest, and the first to grab a bat whenever someone says something even slightly negative about you.

Every Sunday, she'll drag you down to the Dugoutt Inn, throw you in one of the booths, and offer to share a bottle of Moonshine. Usually, the two of you just talk, but sometimes the Bobrov brothers will come over and tell you guys stories of things that had happened throughout the week. It always reminds you of those Football nights you used to have before the war when you'd gather in someone's basement and just hang out with everyone.

Cait's not the best at it, but whenever you're beaten and bleeding, she'll do her best to try and patch you up. There will always be people out there who're way more qualified than she'll ever be, but she knows the basics.

She definitely makes her opinion known when she thinks you've been drinking too much or have been taking too many drugs. You'll be kept in line with her around, she refuses to let you fall into the same rabbit hole that she did.

Whether you romanced her or not, she'll still jokingly flirt with you all the time. She'll run her hands along your shoulders and whisper the most lewd comments until you start blushing or get a tad flustered.

One of these days she'll take you aside and teach you a few more effective self-defense methods just so you're better prepared in any sort of fight you find yourself in.

Cait may still put up that tough-Irish-girl front of hers, but behind it all is a genuine friend who would stop everything she was doing to sit and listen to whatever it was that was bothering you.

She's so willing to throw down for you. You give her the word, and she'll gladly make someone 'disappear' for you. You guys are like the secret service of the Commonwealth, anyone does anything to either of you, and they're gone.

The jokes she makes are almost always horribly timed. Like you'll be sitting in your room all sad and she'll say something like, "It's totally your fault". She intends for them to be sarcastic quips of some kind, but they don't really land. She's just not that great at cheering people up, but she definitely tries.

Her drug habit might've stopped, but her thieving practice won't. It's for better or for worse, but you can't deny how relieved you get when you notice the extra hundred caps that'd been snuck into your pockets when you weren't looking. They save you in most situations and you almost have to be grateful she hasn't kicked the habit yet.

The one thing with Cait is that you're gonna have to teach her some healthier coping skills before she punches a hole in your wall, or anyone else's for that matter.

She loves to sit with you on the bridge right outside Sanctuary and toss stones. She likes the edges of the rocks in her hands and finds it a bit soothing when they sink and cause ripples in the water.

Overall, Cait ends up being the best friend you never knew you needed. She's there for literally everything and couldn't ever imagine her life without you.

#fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 #cait fo4 #fo4 cait #cait fallout 4 #fallout 4 cait #fo4 sole survivor #sole survivor fo4 #sole survivor #cait x sole #cait x sole survivor #fallout headcanons #fallout 4 headcanons #fallout companion headcanons #cait headcanons #cait fo4 headcanons #cait x reader

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imaginethatneathuh · 4 months

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Cold as Ice: Cait - Fallout 4

Cait & Sole Survivor, platonic.

Cait comes across a warehouse filled with chems and finds out Sole is the one responsible. Her reaction is rather rash.

TW/CW: References to addiction, chems, anger.

Word Count: 2.2+K

Inspired by @danses-with-dogmeat

•

A dull light easily broke through the branches as Cait made her way back to Sanctuary Hills from killing the small raider encampment to the North. Her shotgun hung loosely in one hand as the other stayed on the strap of her pack. Her thick red and white plaid flannel kept her warm, but even so, a cold wind was a powerful thing. Dry twigs and leaves crunched beneath her dirty, mud-splashed boots as one such wind whipped past her. It sent a shiver down her spine, reminding her of what she'd felt after withdrawals set in, but just barely so.

Cait tensed at the thought.

I ain't goin' through that shite again. I'm fine.

Taking a deep breath, Cait closed her eyes and centred herself before letting out the breath and opening her eyes.

It hadn't been that long since she'd been cured. Since you'd helped her get clean. The memories were still fresh, yet the urge was nowhere to be found. Still, the pain from the withdrawals was always the first thing to surface.

You'd said it was some form of PTSD.

Cait wasn't sure what that was even after you and Curie tried to explain it.

As the dark grey of her eyelids disappeared, Cait watched as a puff of wispy, white air twirled in front of her before disappearing.

As it faded, a building came into focus. It was off in the distance, but Cait could see it was cobbled together and unfinished.

"What the Hell?" She asked, mumbling to herself.

Cait frowned as she got closer. She slipped her free arm through her pack's other strap and handled her shotgun with both hands rather than the lazy one-hand position. Cait checked the chamber, ensuring she wasn't going in without ammo.

As she got closer, Cait realised it wasn't some random building and, while cobbled together, wasn't unfinished. The massive main door was just open. The tall, wide building looked like a warehouse she'd seen before, similar to Wicked Shipping Fleet Lockup, rusted, broken glass and all.

What the Hell is this doin' out here? Did Sole make it?

Cait keeps getting closer while keeping her shotgun up, ready for a fight.

Though it did seem like one of your constructions with its proximity to Sanctuary and Vault 111, Cait had been around these parts hunting and clearing things out for a while. Not even you, with your uncanny ability to build like a magician, could have erected such a massive building without Cait noticing. Not to mention, you hadn't been around for several days. You'd have gone to Sanctuary for supplies if this was what you were doing.

As she got closer, Cait heard nothing. Not the sounds of robots thumping around and guarding whatever is inside, not the humming of turrets or lights, not even the sound of raiders or bugs. The place was eerie and quiet, far too quiet to be normal.

The building itself was fine; it was just a little rusty and had broken windows. Otherwise, it seemed sturdy enough, perfect for raiders, animals, ferals, or even settlers.

As Cait climbed up on a ledge, she peered down at the short drop and thought to herself. If something's in here, should I risk letting it know I'm here for the sake of speed?

Shrugging, Cait jumped down with a slight thud. She exhaled as she crouched from the small jump before shooting back up; even with the small amount of noise she'd made, not so much as a radroach crept out. In fact, as she peered past the massive doors and into the warehouse, she saw dead ones strung up, cut into and torn apart.

Immediately, Cait went into cautious mode and aimed her shotgun around as she searched for any living thing.

Those roaches had to have had some interference. Without someone doing it, they wouldn't have been cut and strung up like that, dangling the length of the loading door.

Mentally, Cait began crossing things out.

Not super mutants. They don't come out here.

Can't be ferals or robots, either. Ferals would have ripped 'em a part where they lay dead, not string 'em up. Bots wouldn't give a damn after they're dead.

Settlers are out of the question. Maybe one or two would have been out here, but in that case, they would have gone to Sanctuary or Abernathy Farm. Those places are safer than some random building in the woods.

Raiders then? A new group, maybe? Fucking dumbarses would pick someplace close to a settlement.

Cait noticed something odd as she stepped through the door and under the roaches.

No, not more dead animals strung up. And no, not dead people.

What she noticed were boxes. Lots and lots of boxes. They were everywhere. On every shelf all the way to the top and in every corner. Some open and some not.

But other than the seemingly neverending amount of fucking boxes that are just everywhere, there wasn't much else. Not even a candle.

You could count the roaches, but they're in a halfway spot; therefore, they're off the table.

Cait allowed her shotgun to drop to her side and loosely held it again.

"What the fuck?"

She looked around, confused, and stared at the boxes of all shapes and sizes.

There were crates, ammo boxes, trunks, suitcases, lockers, file cabinets, cardboard boxes, and every other type of container and box you could possibly think of. There were even several coolers.

Speaking of which...

Still erring on the side of caution, Cait approached one of the boxes, well, not boxes, but containers. Specifically, a cooler sitting closed on one of the shelves. She looked around it, ensuring it wasn't trapped with a tripwire, bathroom scale, or anything of the like.

"Clean," she said to herself, nodding.

Despite nothing being attached, Cait still slowly lifted the lid. And, as she peered into the cooler, she scowled.

Silently, she moved to another container and opened it. Her scowl only grew. She moved to another and another and another. She even cracked a crate open, only to be met with the same thing every time. Well, not exactly, but it might as well have been.

And before you ask, no, there weren't body parts, animal or human/ghoul/whatever. No, nothing so simple. Instead, there were chems of every type and lots of them.

The place was a damn warehouse filled with chems, not even a 30-minute walk from where she lived.

Cait stepped away from the disgusting things, the things that had nearly killed her more than a few times, the things that had driven her into a massive hole so deep she couldn't get out alone.

She didn't know if she felt like throwing up or lighting this place up and letting it all burn away. This many chems all in one place? It was a junkie's paradise, but Cait wasn't one anymore, not after 95. You had made sure of that; you'd saved her.

I should tell Sole, Cait thought. They'd never allow something like this to exist.

Cait recoiled away from it all and backed up. As she turned to go back the way she came, she was met with the silhouette of someone. The person had set down a bag and picked up a clipboard, a can of water in their other hand.

If you were close enough, you could hear the woman growling as she found the creator of such a disgusting pile of shite. She stormed over to the person, seeing red and her trigger finger itching.

"Oi! Fuck face!" Cait shouted, getting the perpetrator's attention. "What the fuck is this?"

They turned, and Cait was greeted by the face of the piece of shite who did this.

And it was... you?

Cait slowed as she watched you slowly lower the clipboard and drink. Her mouth hung open, and she just stared.

You, the ever kind, ever caring Sole Survivor of Vault 111, were the one stockpiling dangerous and disgusting chems like Buffout and the shite that had nearly killed Cait, Psycho. The very same person who'd helped Cait through her withdrawals on their way to 95. The same one who'd saved her life a thousand times over. The same person who'd risked life and limb and their own mental wellness to lend a hand to her, to randos, and to everyone they came across. You were the kind of person to take time out of your day to play with kids and teach them things they never would have learned otherwise. Shite, you'd go tend to the sick whenever you could.

So, why? Why would you have such a massive stockpile of the worst sort of things? Alcohol, Cait could understand. And she could understand extra Med-X, the Radaway and Rad-X, and the Stimpacks, but everything else? The Buffout, Mentats, and, worst of all, Psycho? What could you be using that shite for?

Cait, in all her time knowing you, had never seen you take anything but stims on the fly. You always went to the doctor for help if you needed it. You had never self-medicated unless it was an extreme emergency, and there was no other choice.

Cait could still remember you talking her through the withdrawals and the fight in Vault 95. She could still feel you embracing her tightly and grinning after Cait was cured.

How could you? How could you throw all that away? How could you lie the way you did and pretend to be such a good person?

The questions merely infuriated Cait further.

"What the fuck is all this then?" Cait growled. "You got any sort of explanation for me?"

You simply raised an eyebrow, cool as a cucumber. Before you could speak, Cait stopped them.

"No, ya know what, I don't care. I don't give a singular fuck!" Cait pointed toward the door. "With that door open like that and no protection, it's obvious you're jus' fucking waitin' for some kid to come across this place and end up like me. It's fuckin' sick, Sole. This entire fucking place is sick!" Cait got closer, gripping her shotgun and glaring into your eyes. God, she wanted to blow your head off for this. "You are fucking sick. So, if you want to keep me around, you will get rid of all of this. And I mean, get rid of it, not just sell it to some poor soul. So, either these go, or I do."

To your credit, you didn't budge or interrupt. In fact, you seemed relatively unbothered by Cait blowing up at you.

As calm as ever, you slowly, without breaking eye contact, brought the can up to your mouth and drank from it. When you lowered it, your face made no change, no sign of hurt or even relief. You simply said, ice in your voice: "Then go".

The thing about you is, as kind as you are, you ain't the type to take people's shite, and you sure as Hell don't do ultimatums. If Cait wouldn't even let you explain what's going on here, you wouldn't give her the time of day. Simple as.

Cait paused momentarily as she stared at what she thought was her friend. But her shock was quickly overcome by anger. "You are a– Fuck you, Sole! Fuck you! I can't believe I ever trusted you," she spat out. Cait shoved you aside as she made her way past and back outside.

•

Back in Sanctuary, Cait stomped over the bridge between the island and the Northside. Dirt, leaves, and twigs fell as she stormed.

She mumbled to herself, mostly about you and the chems. For a moment, Cait had considered telling people about your stockpile of chems but decided against it. When Preston or Codsworth found out... Well, thinking about that gave Cait everything she needed.

The sun still beamed down. Even with the overcast, the day felt far too happy. Especially after the recent revelation of who you truly are—a drug-dealing piece of shite.

A few settlers pass Cait by as she scowls at the ground and walks back to her flat. They say nothing, too afraid of her to try.

•

In her flat, Cait looked around at the random stuff she'd gotten in her time with you. The teddy bear you had jokingly given to her. The weapons you had modded and named for her. The fresh clothes, bedding, and an actual bed had been given to Cait when she moved to Sanctuary proper. Codsworths' housewarming present: a new pair of boots Cait never wore, not wanting to ruin them. The jacket Curie had given her to keep her warm. And, of course, the Minutemen hat Preston had gifted Cait as a way of saying "thank you for everything you've done" and a "you're always welcome with us".

Despite feeling this emptiness inside, Cait refused to feel sorry for herself or fall back into that hole. No, you wouldn't do that to her.

Cait grabbed a few things and a bag, stuffing some things into said bag.

If you wanted to ruin everything you'd created, you could, but Cait wasn't having any of it.

#cait x sole survivor #cait fallout 4 #sole survivor #fallout 4 #cait x reader #fallout #fallout 4 fanfiction

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cravencereal · 11 months

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NSFW BELOW THE CUT

Just a little something I did for my own amusement because let’s be honest, Cait pre-benign intervention is most likely a horny, angry, depressed woman that doesn’t know how to deal with emotions other than sex, booze, and physco. I made Sole a bit of a bottom but as gender neutral as possible, so anyone can read it! It doesn’t get all the way to smut, but damn does it get close. If you want a continuation that goes into a little more detail per-se, just lmk ;)

Also this is my first real attempt at nsfw so like… don’t burn me at the stake if it’s bad. <3

GN!Sole x Cait (pre-Benign Intervention)

Cait and Sole were sitting on the floor of an abandoned warehouse. They had cleared the place out and decided to rest for a bit. The smell of dust and blood was stinging Sole’s nostrils, Super Mutants have such a strong smell of death it’s ridiculous, they thought as they pulled out their gun and inspected it. Sole looked up at Cait, watching her open a beer before looking back down at their gun. “We’re not gonna go anywhere else tonight, so you might as well get comfy.” Sole spoke into the air.

Cait hummed in acknowledgement, taking a swig of her beer. She offered a drink to Sole but they turn it down, a hit to the head they had taken earlier in the day finally catching up to them making their head spin. “Y’sure? Might make that headache of yours better.” Sole declines once again and Cait shrugs her shoulders, taking another drink.

Sole could hear the beer slosh in the bottle as Cait pulled it away from her lips, the sound of glass meeting concrete echoed as she put the bottle down. It was quiet for a moment before Cait shuffled across the floor, the utility belt Sole had got for her in Bunker Hill scraping against the floor. Sole pulled their attention from cleaning their gun to whatever Cait was doing, but when they looked up their eyes met, barely even a foot apart from each other. Cait’s eyelids were hooded and a smirk Sole knew all too well spread across her face.

“No.”

Cait’s smirk dropped into a frown and her eyebrows furrowed, making Sole blow a sharp breath of air out their nose in amusement. Sole returns her attention back to cleaning their gun and Cait sulks back to her backpack, placing her head on the back part of it. She sharply turned to her side and groaned, letting out a bratty, childlike grumble, “Fuck you.”

“I’m sure you want to.”

The Next Day, Diamond City

While Cait was getting checked over at Dr. Sun’s, Sole lay on the couch at Home Plate. It’d been ages since they had stayed here, most of their time in Diamond City either being spent at the Wright’s or in the Valentine Agency. They had promised Piper they’d stop by for a drink some time this afternoon when they passed by, so they decided to spend what little downtime they had to get comfortable and get some shut eye.

SLAM!

“Wake yer ass up Sole, I’m not drinkin’ alone.”

“You’re grown Cait, you can drink alone,” Sole grumbled, keeping their eyes closed. Cait flipped the switch on the wall and turned on the bright fluorescent lights above them. Sole’s eyebrows furrowed and they threw their forearm over their eyes, “-Just let me be for 30 minutes please.”

A sly smile came across Cait’s face, “Have a drink wit’ me, an’ I might consider it.”

Sole is quiet for a beat before groaning and falling into her bribery. They push themself off the couch and make their way over to a shelf of ‘collectibles’ they’d made over the past year. Brands of whiskey, wine, and tequila donned the wooden shelves. Almost every bottle was full and in mint condition, the exception being the whiskey bottles which they heavily favored in their pick of poison.

“And you call yerself a drinker,” Cait chuckles, slapping her hand hard on Sole’s back, kind of like a divorced dad in his late forties would. “Nothin’ compared to what I’d have polished if I were you.”

“These are far and few between Cait, and those Bobrov’s are overcharging for their drinks, so I found a happy medium.” Sole shrugs and grabs glasses off the top shelf. Cait lets out a ‘humph’ and grabs a bottle of whiskey with the faded label reading ‘Crown Royale’ before mumbling, “How you’ve managed to make drinkin’ nerdy, I’ll never know.”

They sit down on the couch, the heavy glass bottle of Crown in Cait’s hand and two glasses in Sole’s. Sole places the glasses on the table and grabs the cigar box from the lower shelf on the table. “I dunno how you smoke those things. Gives me a headache.” Sole shrugs at Cait’s comment and lights the cigar, taking a long drag from it and blowing out a cloud of smoke. “And I don’t know how you drink 24 hours if the day and still function; but hey, we all have our niches, don’t we doll?” Cait lets out a grunt at Sole’s snarky remark and pours their drinks, filling her cup only slightly more than her counterpart, which is to be expected at this point.

Cait wraps her hand around her drink, already starting to take it to the head. “Sip on it, Cait, we’ve still got errands to run.” She ignores Sole’s warning, flipping them off as she finishes her glass, letting out a sigh of relief once she’s swallowed the liquor. She puts down the glass with a hefty sounding ‘thunk’ of the wood meeting the thick glass.

“Lucky for you, I’m a functioning drunk.”

Sole scoffs and rolls their eyes, “Functioning my ass! I’ve carried you out of the Dugout every time we’ve been there.” Sole’s eyes locked onto Cait’s when she started to move closer. Cait’s breath hitting their face; it was warm and smelled of the whiskey she’d just downed.

“If you didn’t like my sweet arse, you woulda left me there to rot by now.” Closer, closer, closer. By this point, Sole could tell you the pattern of the specks of brown in her green eyes and pat connect the dots with the freckles that covered her face.

“No, I’d just have to pay for a room if I left you there. Dugout policy.” They shot back quickly. Cait snickered at Sole’s hasty response and continued to move closer.

She was playing a game Sole always lost: ‘How Far Can I Push My Flirtation Before You Pounce Me?’ She especially played this game whenever either of them were drinking. Cait knew how to push Sole’s buttons in a way that always put one of them pressed against a wall and moaning each other’s name.

“I suggest you move back before something happens.” Sole takes a drag from their cigar before turning back to face Cait. She cocked her left eyebrow, the same sly, fox-like smirk as before painted across her face.

“Oh really? Is this 'somethin’' similar to what happened in Goodneighbor? Or is it closer to the police station? Either way I’m willing to try me luck.” She touched her nose to Sole’s, her eyelids hooded yet still maintaining heated eye contact with them.

“And I’d be willin’ to bet you’d want it too.”

Sole leaned in and parted their lips, their fingers moving to lightly grip Cait’s chin and pull her face closer to theirs. Their left hand slid over the curve that separated her hips from her ribs, eliciting a soft sigh from Cait. Sole could feel her body push further into theirs, her own hands starting to slide against and up their outer thigh, gripping the waistband of Sole’s pants once she got to it. Their lips brushed against each other, but before Cait’s lips could lock with her lover’s, Sole let out the puff of smoke they had been holding in, the grayish smoke covering Cait’s face and flooding into her mouth.

Barely able to get out her words over her coughing she growled, “You’re- cough -such a bastard!” Sole falls back onto the arm of the couch and starts to crack up. They dropped their cigar onto the ashtray on the end table, saving it for later. They continued to laugh after Cait’s coughing fit was over, but she stayed uncharacteristically quiet. They expected at least a snarky remark at my laughing; but there was nothing.

Starting to sit back up, they stop their laughter and start an apology, “Cait, I didn’t mean to make you upset. I was just messin’ with you-”

Cait turned to face Sole; and before they knew what was happening, Cait’s hands, body, and lips were all over Sole. Their eyes went wide, completely taken aback from what was happening. Cait had pushed Sole’s shoulders back onto the arm of the couch roughly. It was like she couldn’t wait to be close to Sole.

Cait’s left hand made its way up Sole’s shirt and against their stomach, her calloused palm causing goosebumps to form on their skin. Her right hand was unbuckling their belt, pulling harshly on the leather before getting it off and starting on Sole’s jeans button and zipper.

Her lips were locked onto Sole’s jawline, sucking harshly on the skin, occasionally tugging at it with her front teeth; just enough to hear Sole’s breath hitch and feel their body melt further into the couch. Their head was trying to catch up with what was happening. Cait and Sole had definitely done this before, they (mostly Cait) were constantly making passes at each other, most of the time leading to quick and hot sex in semi-safe places. Didn’t matter where or when, if Cait wanted Sole, she got them. Sole didn’t mind, really; it was a nice release and Cait was a very attractive woman, but usually there was at least some type of foreplay, or hell even a warning.

Cait’s lips left their neck and met Sole’s lips, cutting them off from saying anything. She had finally got their pants unbuttoned and was feverishly pulling them down. She pulled away for a moment, Sole’s hand moving on its own and tangling in her messy, red hair in a faint attempt to pull her back down to their kiss. She let their hand pull her back in, but instead leaned down to their ear, kissing the top of it. Her warm ragged breath hitting the cold cartilage made Sole’s face heat up more than it already had. The sound of her breathing was hard and desperate; it tickled Sole’s ear, goosebumps forming on their neck.

Cait moved her legs to wrap around Sole’s waist, grinding against their hips. They could feel how hot her sex was, and it was only turning them on more than they already were. She made her way agonizingly slow up and down their neck, kissing and biting on the skin. Sole’s hand tangled in her hair and gave it a firm tug, making her moan into their skin, sending shivers down their back. Sole let their other hand find her hip, encouraging her hips to rock against their waist, loving the white hot flares of pleasure it was sending down their stomach.

Sole let a lazy smile grow on their lips and let out a soft mumble, “Guess this means you forgive me then?” Cait just let out a low chuckle that vibrated against her lips that abused Sole’s neck and continued her work. Sole shuddered before somewhat coming back to their senses. Their eyes roamed down Cait’s body, watching her hips ride back and forth in a needy, erratic motion. Her moans were getting louder the longer they went on, and when Sole started to rock in sync with her, Cait’s voice broke into a high pitched mewl that drove Sole crazy. Their voice hoarse and quiet, a needy request fell past their lips.

“Fuck, I need you, Cait.”

Sole unbuckled Cait’s pants, pulling them down to her knees and letting her kick them to the floor. Barely even spending a moment apart, they were back together, lips moving fast and hard against each other. Their tongues met and danced with one another, their saliva mixing along with the moans they traded into the others mouth. Cait had started grinding her hips down on Sole again, this time pulling up their shirt to put her thinly covered sex against their skin. Sole could feel Cait all over her. Sole could feel how those lovely lips below her waist glided across their stomach; the way they slightly parted when Cait’s hips moved forward and how their wet skin got cold from the air that hit it when Cait wasn’t atop it. Sole needed Cait, and Cait needed Sole. Bad.

Their moans and the slight squeaking of the couch was what filled the room; Cait picking up in volume as she rocked harder and faster into Sole’s hips. Sole pulled harder on Cait’s hair, which in-turn made Cait suck hard on Sole’s tongue. She would occasionally pull back while biting their lip, letting it pop back into place before diving back into the taste she yearned for. The pair’s lips were swollen and sore from the biting and tugging the other would do to entice the other.

Making her way from her lover’s neck and to their ear, her left hand found the soft skin of their neck and rested it there, her thumb rubbing back and forth on the purple-ish marks she had made. Once Cait made it back to her original position on Sole’s ear, she bit down hard and let the tip of her tongue dance on the tip of it. Her left hand started playing with the band of their underwear; her fingers dipping just low enough to glide against the crevice of their hip bone. Cait’s tongue, making sure to let her ragged, breathy moans sound in her ear. Sole was barely keeping it together at this point; the wet, lewd sounds entering their ear drums at an alarming rate, those fingers moving tantalizingly slow down their hips were causing them to short circuit, and dear god that moan of hers; everything about Cait made Sole go insane in the best way possible.

Cait gave a hard squeeze against Sole’s neck, making their breath hitch in their throat, a submissive whimper following. A wicked smile paints on Cait’s face, lustful eyes meeting Sole’s needy orbs. Another flare lit up in Sole’s stomach, this time shooting down to their legs.

Cait wanted Sole to know what she had been waiting for since last night, but was going to tease her just as she did before. “You shouldn’t have done that, lover,” she murmured, before placing a soft, almost unnoticeable kiss on the tragus of their ear, pulling down their underwear and placing wet, slow kisses on her way down their body. Cait stopped right above their navel, kissing it and making Sole’s hips arch in selfish need, “Cuz’ yer in for a long ride.”

Sole’ll just stop by Piper’s tomorrow.

Bonus:

One foot in front of the other, Sole walked to Piper’s door and raised their hand to knock on the metal, nervous smile on their face. The handle turned and the door flew open, an angry Piper standing behind it.

“I waited all afternoon for you to show up and you just-“ Piper cut herself off, her eyes widening when she saw Sole’s neck.

“Did a Yao Gaui chew on your neck last night?”

#Cait #fallout 4 #piper wright #fallout fanfic #cait fallout 4 #cait fo4 #piper fo4 #piper fallout 4 #sole survivor #x reader #fallout x reader #caitxreader #male reader #fem reader #female reader #gender neutral reader

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grumpymirelurkqueen · 5 months

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Cait, Curie and Deacon react to sole acting like a player :

An idea from someone on Ao3.

I haven't reread it.

- Cait :

Sole was planted like a prick in front of Arthuro. No expression on his face, everything was linear, even when the wind was blowing hard into his neck. Cait looked at Sole with annoyance. She didn't know how to react to his inactivity. But it made her seethe inside, not seeing the point of staying like a piece of shit here in Diamond City.

" What are you doing there?" she asks, her arms crossed and her eyebrows knitting together.

- I'm waiting for Arthuro to get some new merchants.

- And how long do we have to wait ?

- As long as it takes," admitted sole, still linear at the robotic limit.

When she sees his stony expression, she sometimes wonders if sole isn't a synth. In a rage she goes far away to let off steam on nearby raiders.

It was only three days later that sole returned to Sanctuary Hill with everything he needed. Cait was still angry with sole. But she agreed to go with him anyway.

- Curie (from a bug in my console) :

Every time you try to change weapons, you stick a stimpak in your arm. Curie thought you were seriously injured.

" Madame are you injured ?

- What? No, of course not. I just want to change weapons.

- Oh I see, she whispered "

- Deacon :

It had been several hours since sole had moved, blinked or spoken. At first Deacon didn't pay any attention thinking sole was in their heads, like him sometimes. So he leaves their house for their privacy, leaving them standing like a leek in the middle of the living room with their feet up on the sofa (Deacon is a complete idiot!). The next morning he goes into the living room and sees sole again as he did yesterday afternoon. It was only then that he started to worry. He moved closer to sole, pulling his glasses down over his nose to get a better look. Nothing has changed on his screwing, the position of his body on the sofa, a statue he told himself. A long time ago he read a pre-war book about "the best world records". He thought that sole would do that. So he sat down on the seat opposite the sofa and watched, impatient for sole to stop.

A few hours later Sole comes back to life. Sole sees Deacon sitting on the seat opposite him, a bottle in his hand. On the small table to his right are two untouched glasses. Sole wonders if he is celebrating something. So Sole breaks the silence.

"We're celebrating something, Deacon," asks sole, completely lost.

- Finaly, exclaims Deacon, smashing the bourbon cork on the metal ceiling. I'm glad you've finally finished your super-realistic imitation of a statue. By smashing the world record, but when do we eliminate the institute, he asks, handing a full glass to sole.

This request drew a smile from Sole, who politely refused the glass.

" We're going now, Deacon, no time to lose.

- That's the sole I knew."

Thank to read it. My request are open.

#fallout 4 #fo4 #fo4 companions #deacon fo4 #fo4 companions react #cait fo4 #curie fo4 #fallout companions #fallout 4 companions #sole survivor #fallout 4 x reader #cait x reader #curie x reader #deacon x reader

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berrincherri · 3 months

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There is NOT enough f!sole & Cait fanart and I am clearly too obsessed with Cait to let that slide

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callmewisteria · 7 months

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Something Pricking (At The Precipice Of Something New XV)

Cait comforts Nora amid a torrent of emotions ahead of leaving to track Kellogg? Madison, Allie, Alan, Clayton, and a few others discuss the Institute concerns regarding the Brotherhood and Phase Three? The Railroad dissect what little they know about Patriot while Glory wrestles with knowing she had once been a Courser herself? The Minutemen arrive at Finch Farm and learn the family is struggling with far more than just raiders? MacCready finds out Piper is the one offering a job - and the job is to spy on Diamond City's mayor?

Things are picking up. Read it on AO3, ff.net, and/or wattpad!!!

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vaultscavver · 7 months

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( scavver's falloutober2023 masterlist ) ⠀⠀ ─── ⠀‎‎‏‏‎ ‎⠀‎⠀⠀❛ 𝓱𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝓴𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞 ❜ 31-part series / eventual sole x hancock x maccready

thanks to @falloutober, we have 31 days of apocalyptic prompts for october 2023!

this madness is in a semi-organized timeline, and i've included a lot of ocs and changes to canon because i think it's fun, so to get a clear view of the story i recommend reading it in the order it's posted, but if you don't want to don't worry about it, i've tried to make everything as simple as possible so that each fic can be standalone as well as part of a series.

enjoy! xx, scavver

─ ─── ──── ─── ♠ ─── ──── ─── ─

01. WAR NEVER CHANGES

─── the one where nora watches her world end twice.

02. NEON

─── the one where the detective has a hunch and nora debates the morality of ferals.

03. DISTANT GLOW

─── the one where maccready needs the caps, and this strange, masked vault dweller needs an extra gun.

04. DADDY-O & 05. THIS THING CALLED DEFEAT

─── the one where maccready isn't just a bodyguard, and nora doesn't know how to think about him and his moonshine-revealed secrets.

06. MONUMENT

─── the one where duncan maccready's cure is hidden under dangerous layers of feral-ridden hallowed halls.

07. MIDNIGHT RIDE

08. FAITH, HOPE, & LOVE

09. BUTCHER PETE

10. TERMINAL

11. FALLEN STAR

12. RUST

13. CIVILIZATION

14. AFTERDAMP

15. KEEPING WARM

16. LACRIMAE RETURN

17. FANG & CLUB

18. RESPITE

19. FERAL

20. WAYWARD SOULS

21. MUTATION

22. HEAT LIGHTNING

23. HOMECOMING

24. CIGARETTE

25. POUND OF FLESH

26. INK SPOTS

27. GREEN

28. COLD, DARK

29. SHRAPNEL

30. ATOM

31. THIS LITTLE LIGHT

#falloutober2023 #fo4 #fallout 4 #sole survivor #fo4 companions #fallout 4 companions #scavver #rj maccready #john hancock #scavver writes #nick valentine #piper wright #preston garvey #paladin danse #fo4 cait #sole x hancock x maccready #sole x hancock #sole x maccready

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dez78 · 1 year

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It’s Just you and me

-----------------------------

Fandom: Fallout 4

Pairings: Sole Survivors Oc’s (Dennis x Destiny)

Rating: Adult 18+

Warnings: Smut

Summary: The sole survivors have a relaxing night after a stressful week

-----------------------------

I brushed out my hair, my robe wrapped around my body. My husband walked up and leaned on the bathroom doorway, his arms folded over one another and a fond smile on his lips.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” Dennis said softly to me, I looked up with a hint of a blush on my rosy cheeks.

“Thank you.” I replied sheepishly, even though we had been married five years and had a child together, he still made me feel the butterflies.

“Is there chance I can steal you away for an evening?” Dennis smirked confidently, I chuckled.

“Where are you taking me, stud?” I questioned with a childish smile,

“Your choice, we could go to the Tipsy Brahmin, The Diner, The Cat’s Paw, or we could take the sedan and go to Starlight.” Dennis gave me a few options. I thought for a while, thinking of which we haven’t been to in a while.

“The Cat’s Paw.” I finally replied, Dennis smiled.

“Deal.” He nodded, he kicked himself off the wall and went into the room, he had taken a shower that morning, so he didn’t need one at the moment. I finished brushing my hair, then I brushed my teeth, and put my makeup on.

Dennis got dressed in a nicer outfit, it’s a faded black suit with a white shirt and ribbon in the shape of makeshift bow. He fixed his hair blindly, he sat on the bed and boot his shoes on, black dress shoes.

“Baby, I’ll be in the living room!” Dennis called to me, once he was ready.

“Okay, I’ll be out in a minute!” I called from the bathroom. Dennis walked out of the bedroom and shut the door behind him. I finished styling my hair, it was an evening style. I fluffed it and walked out.

My bare feet smacked against the wood floor as I walked to my dresser. I opened it and dug through it, I looked at different dresses in the tall-body mirror. I wrinkled my nose at most of my choices.

Finally, I picked up the white dress, I looked at it and nodded. I set it on the bed and took my robe off. I picked up the dress again and slipped it over my head, putting my arm through the hole of the only sleeve.

I smooth out the wrinkles as I looked at myself in the mirror, I smiled at the way I looked. I twirled a bit and fixed any cricks in the dress. I sat on the bed and put the matching black and white heels on.

I stood tall and got used to the heels, I walked over to the mirror and looked at myself one more time. I was satisfied with my look, so I headed out of the bedroom. Dennis looked up, his eyes lit up, like he was seeing me for the first time.

“Wow, you’re stunning.” He said breathlessly, I bit my lip and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear as I walked up to him.

“You look sharp, yourself.” I complimented, he smiled and held out his hand, I took it, and he led me out of the house. We walked outside with our arms locked. It was night in Sanctuary City, it was still bustling, despite the late hours. Traders were still going about with their brahmins.

The streetlights lit our way, we used the sidewalk like we used to in the prewar era, we had it repaired, so there was no more cracks or holes in it.

-------------------------

We got to The Cat’s Paw, just a few moments later. We walked inside and noticed it was busy. The bartender was filling drinks and making food, most of the tables were full, a few people were on stage, a woman we knew as Olivia and a man named Otto. He played the piano while Olivia sang old world tunes.

Dennis and I sat at one of the empty tables. We looked around and noticed some of our mutual friends inside. Like Piper, Deacon, Hancock, and MacCready. They weren’t sitting together, but they were present.

The colorful lights set the mood. I sighed a long breath,

“You okay?” Dennis asked,

“Yeah, just nice to get out.” I replied with a smile, we haven’t gone out in a while and with everything that’s happened this week, it was nice to have a night off.

“I’m going to get a drink and some food, what do you want?” Dennis questioned as he stood up,

“A beer and a sting wing filet.” I replied quickly, Dennis nodded and kissed my hand before walking up to the counter. Hancock noticed him as well as Piper, they looked for me and headed towards me.

I tapped my fingers on the table as I watched Olivia singing. She was a decent singer; I was impressed with her.

“Hey sunshine.” Hancock said as he plopped down in Dennis’s seat, he took a swig of his beer.

“Hey, Han. You get any ladies tonight?” I teased with a smirk,

“Nah, Piper refused and your taken.” Hancock replied with a shrug, Piper rolled her eyes.

“Find Cait, she’d sleep with you.” She snorted, I chuckled.

“I mean unless your fella wants a little action with us, I can provide.” Hancock said in a flirty tone. I gave him my knowing look.

“Oh Hancock, you’ve discovered out dark secret!” I cried dramatically.

“Stop mocking me, a guy can try.” Hancock snorted, I laughed,

“He’d so much as toss you over the wall than share me.” I smirked,

“I bet you’d like to see that, huh?” Hancock grumbled.

“Anyway!” Piper interrupted,

“Blue, I was wondering if you’d be willing to sing tonight.” She said as she leaned on the table, she looked at me with batting eyes. I laughed,

“I’ll think about it.” I replied,

“I think everyone will agree that you can sing and would prefer to hear you.” Hancock commented as he took another swig of his beer.

“Please Blue? We love your singing.” Piper was practically begging me now,

“Oh, fine. I’m going to eat first.” I replied. Piper nodded, seeming satisfied with my answer, she dragged Hancock away, they back to their own tables.

------------------------

Dennis came back with our drinks and food, he sat down, handing my plate and beer over to me.

“Thank you.” I smiled as I picked up my fork and knife,

“You’re welcome honey.” Dennis replied.

We dug into our meals and drank our beers. There was a comfortable silence that fell between us, I moved my leg and started to rub Dennis’s calf with my foot, he looked up at me and smirked.

I gave him my knowing smile, my brown eyes darted around the room to see if anyone was looking, when no one was, I lifted up my dress slightly and showed my husband quite the view.

He choked on his drink, when he saw I wore nothing under. His blue eyes shot up to meet mine. I smirked at him and put my dress down, smoothing it out. Then I continued to eat, knowing what was going to come next.

------------------------------

We finished our meal and drinks, before heading into the bathroom. The jazz was loud enough to drown out any other sounds. We walked into a stall and shut the door behind us.

It was a tight fit, so Dennis sat on the toilet, I lifted my dress up over my hips and sat on his lap. He undid his pants and pulled out his cock for me, I licked my lips and sat down on him further. Feeling him slip inside my slick walls.

I sighed getting used to his immensity, when he was fully sheathed inside me, I started to rock my hips, he bit his lip as he growled. He grabbed my hips and helped me ride him.

When I thought I heard the door open, my head snapped to look, Dennis grabbed my jaw and made me look at him, his voice was drunk with lust and his eyes hazy,

“Don’t worry baby, it’s just you and me.” He said breathlessly as he kissed me desperately, I returned his eager kisses. I bounced on his cock and felt myself unwinding,

“God, your cock feels so good.” I hissed, resting my hands on his shoulders.

“So does your pussy, so tight.” My husband growled as he kissed me again, his lips were wet from our constant hot kisses. He thrusted up into me, I felt him hit my sweet spot, I pinched my eyes shut. Huffing desperate breathes.

“Don’t hold back sweetheart, let go for me.” Dennis said into my ear, I trembled as I felt the knot in my stomach coming loose, I let out long moans, my eyes closed as I rode my husband.

He squeezed my ass and thrusted harder, I cried out finally and felt the knot come undone at once, my thighs shook as I coated his cock with my orgasm.

“Good girl.” He said in a strained voice, he followed shortly afterward. He painted my contracting walls with his arousal. We rode out our orgasms slowly, enjoying the feeling of each other.

-------------------------

When we finally came down from our highs, we cleaned up and went back out, like nothing had happened, but both of us had a glow and knowing smiles. Olivia had just finished her song and took a break; I took that opportunity to walk up onto the stage.

I stood in front of the microphone and waiting for the stereo to start playing, once it started, I went with ‘Man Enough’ by Magnolia, Dennis smirked as he got another drink and enjoyed the show, knowing damn well, he was the man of the song tonight.

#fallout4 #fallout sole survivor #fallout duel survivors #hancock fo4 #mayor hancock #piper wright #piper fo4 #sanctuary hills #nate x nora #husband and wife #established relationship #deacon fo4 #maccready fo4 #fallout 4 fanfic #my fanfic writing #cait fo4 #flirty hancock #man enough magnolia

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harveywritings92 · 5 months

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Cait, getting ready to bare knuckle fight a Yao Guai: I know this isn't going to end well and I don't care. So don't you try and stop me, Hancock!

Hancock: I wasn't stopping you. I was asking if you could wait so I can grab my camera, and lemme take a few before and after shots to show Sole.

#s: unknown #fallout 4 #fallout incorrect quotes #fallout 4 incorrect quotes #fo4 hancock #fo4 cait #sole survivor #hancock x sole survivor

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chocochipbiscuit · 6 months

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20 Questions for Fic Writers

I was tagged by @anneapocalypse, thank you Anne! <3

And I would like to tag @replicafatale. @formlessvoidbeast, @bittylildragon, and @meikuree if you are so inclined!

Blank questions for your convenience! My answers are below the cut.

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

2. what’s your total ao3 word count?

3. what fandoms do you write for?

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

5. do you respond to comments?

6. what’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

7. what’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

8. do you get hate on fics?

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

10. do you write crossovers? what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

14. what’s your all-time favorite ship?

15. what’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

16. what are your writing strengths?

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

19. first fandom you wrote for?

20. favorite fic you’ve ever written?

1. how many works do you have on ao3? 178, over almost 10 years! Though I suspect if I actually went back to tally them, the vast majority would be skewed towards my early years, back when I’d crank out a fic or two every week for the kink meme then post with minimal editing. Ah, youth.

2. what’s your total ao3 word count? 910,453! Again, I strongly suspect they’re skewed towards the beginning.

3. what fandoms do you write for? I started out pretty intensely monofandom for Fallout, but I write a lot of Dragon Age these days. Which is ironic because I don’t consider myself ‘that’ big a Dragon Age fan, but the fandom exchanges are fun and I’m familiar enough with the setting and characters that I don’t mind picking up pinch hits or writing impulsive ‘what if’ fics.

In general, I almost exclusively write for video game fandoms. (with a few books thrown in…)

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

The Vashoth and The Qunari (Dragon Age, The Iron Bull/F!Qunari Inquisitor, rated E)

Belief (Fallout 4, Cait/F!Sole Survivor, rated G)

A Dream of Red (Dragon Age, Leliana/Morrigan, rated E)

And They Say Size Doesn’t Matter (Fallout 3, Fawkes/F!Lone Wanderer, rated E)

Data Collection (Fallout 4, Cait/F!Sole Survivor, rated E)

Basically: they’re all older fics, mostly smut, and mostly written while the fandoms were still new (or new-ish) and popular. The Vashoth and the Qunari was written before Inquisition even came out, and was written mostly from frenetic fandom speculation. I wouldn’t call it my best fic, just one that happened to strike while the hype machine was still active.

And They Say Size Doesn’t Matter has the questionable distinction of being the longest mutie smut fic on AO3, mostly because each chapter was written for various kink meme fills and then put somewhat in order. It makes me cringe a bit to reread it (I could do it so much better now! I could write with so much more nuance! I would have made less questionable decisions about characterization and description, or at least different questionable decisions!) but I still look back fondly on it.

5. do you respond to comments? Absolutely, though I’m rather late to respond sometimes! The only ones I don’t respond to (and usually just delete) are comments that make demands without any other attempt at interaction. (Ex: “next time write X/Y with New Kink” or “tag your trans characters” when there’s a perfectly nice author’s note at the beginning if you feel shocked or scandalized by the existence of trans characters in a fic that doesn’t focus on being trans and where the trans characters are minor or background!)

…anyways, mild aside: I consider tagging to be both warning (“please don’t read if X, Y, or Z bothers you, or at least prepare yourself”) and advertisement (“please do read if Tropes A, B, or C are appealing to you!”) rather than simple description. If I went out of my way to describe everything that might be relevant in a fic, including every single minor character who gets a single line of mention, then my tags bloat beyond what I consider useable. I try to include notes at the beginning to clarify or mention content that I don’t think needs to be warned/advertised for. Which is part of why I find it weird and borderline hostile to have specific identity tags demanded without explanation.

(And that said, I tag myself biracial bisexual….nah.)

6. what’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I don’t write a lot of angst, but I do have a story that ends ‘unhappily for now’!

Schroedinger’s Pussy (The Locked Tomb, Gideon/Harrow, rated E) is a fic about yes, pussy spanking, but also denial of feelings and ends with an unresolved sex thing that Harrow refuses to talk about, and Gideon in an empty room. In my head they’ll work through it (eventually) but obviously, not in this fic!

The weirdest dark fic I’ve written was an older kink meme fill, and it’s something that I promised from the beginning would only end in pain.

Pain (Fallout: New Vegas, Vulpes Inculta/Rose of Sharon Cassidy/Boone Craig, rated E) is morally dubious not-actually-a-love-triangle fic with under negotiated BDSM and an ambiguous ending that most likely ended with Vulpes’ off-screen death at Cass and Boone’s hands. It’s a fic I still think about sometimes, not because I think it was the best, but because I feel like it shows when I was more willing to be weird and experimental around fraught topics and messy dynamics. I don’t write that sort of thing now simply because I don’t enjoy it, but I’m still glad I had the experience of experimenting.

7. what’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I love happy endings, but don’t often enjoy fluff! By which I mean: I want a happy ending to feel earned. I prefer desserts that have a little salt or bitterness to cut through the sweet and add balance. I want a fic to feel the same way.

That said: I think most of my fics have happy endings, if not always fluffy one.

That also said, I think never gonna say I’m sorry (Borderlands 3, Amara/Tyreen Calypso, rated E) fits the bill because it’s both a fix-it fic and villainous decay arc and I love that for Tyreen, the emotional journey and character growth she goes on from wanting to destroy the world to being willing to destroy herself in order to save it, and ultimately being pulled back to be told no, sometimes you gotta live even when it feels so much harder.

Fun fact: this fic has two endings, one in which Tyreen murders her brother (because just because she’s trying to be a good guy doesn’t mean she’s actually a good guy yet!) and one in which she tries the harder and messier path of not murdering him. I originally wrote the murder chapter because I didn’t think Tyreen would be at the point of being willing to forgive her own brother for attempting to kill her, but @bittylildragon made a note that essentially Troy was being punished for twink crimes, so I decided what the hey, I’ll try an alternate ending. And now I think that’s actually my favorite!

8. do you get hate on fics? Not on AO3. Some on Tumblr before I closed my inbox to anons. A couple on the old kink meme, back when it was self-destructing from the weirdly polarizing “Gay Wasteland” vs “the icky hets” arguments.

Funnily enough, I don't think I ever received a homophobic comment from a straight person! (Straight hate?). But I sure got comments accusing me of being ‘secretly het’ or a ‘proghet’ or ‘trying to trick lesbians into reading Big Dude/Smol Lady’ fic! Because fandom forbid being a bi woman who prefers to read and write fic that centers women! Even if that means that sometimes this means reading, writing, or recommending F/M fic instead of M/M!

Anyways. My AO3 bookmarks and works list are free for anyone to peruse, in case you want a statistical breakdown of my preferences for F/F >>> F/M > M/M so you can yell at me about not prioritizing M/M. /sarcasm

(And as always: I do read, write, and enjoy fics that feature nonbinary characters. I always feel weird including that as an aside, because there’s so little nonbinary rep in general that it feels weird trying to analyze anything from that, and ‘nonbinary’ is a big enough umbrella that even as someone who sometimes prefers they/them, I don’t necessary resonate with or feel represented by all nonbinary characters in fiction. Which is fine! When there’s so few examples, it feels even more fraught because no single character or person can Be All The Rep, and it feels like a weird sort of pressure to presume that they are, can be, or should be. Sometimes a character should just be allowed to exist, be interesting, and be nonbinary, without going ‘oh they’re such a good role model!’)

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind? I cut my teeth on a kink meme, of course I write smut! As for what kind…whatever catches my interest, really? Which means mostly F/F, if there are dudes involved at all they’re usually Real Big Dudes. There’s usually loving attention to oral sex. Often size kink. I also like including bondage and anal sex.

I’ve been writing a lot less smut in recent years. (I’ve also been writing a lot less in general, or at least posting a lot less, for various reasons. Mostly because now that I’m no longer working graveyard shifts and am out of a time-consuming bad relationship, I have more time for non-fandom hobbies!) Partly it’s because…well, repetition. When I first started writing for kink memes, my purpose was just to write; pick a prompt, bang something out, post. It was the exhilaration of writing, of starting something new.

Now: if I’m going to write, I want to do it in a way that feels new or fresh to me, whether that means in terms of prose, emotional depth, or characterization. There’s also, admittedly, some self-consciousness: I’m no longer ‘just’ writing for prompts on a kink meme, I have the (gasp) terrible responsibility of admitting that I wrote a thing just because I like it, or think it’s interesting! It’s the tension between realizing that nah, I haven’t written anything that truly makes me blush in ages, and then the mortification of going “but who else is gonna be interested in this weird goofy playful fic where Piper sits on a birthday cake???”

10. do you write crossovers? what’s the craziest one you’ve written? I’m not usually a fan of crossovers; I prefer looking at a character in their ‘home’ story and setting and how their environment shaped them. Some crossovers can be interesting if they add a new depth or layer to the existing canon (which I think is one of the reasons that Pacific Rim AUs were so popular for a while; drift-compatibility is an interesting way to explore characterization and relationships!) but I don’t often write them myself.

That said, ‘often’ doesn’t mean ‘never.’ I’ve written some AUs (unfinished Cassandra/Leliana werewolf fic, the moody cannibal mermaid AU with Aveline/Isabela) but full on crossovers are a different entity.

The closest to a crossover that I currently have is the still untitled Fallout Necromancy AU, in which I merge some of The Locked Tomb’s approach to necromancy with Fallout 4 for some incredibly unhealthy cav/necro codependencies for necromancer Hancock and cavalier Danse. It’s more true to Fallout’s canon than TLT, and still unfinished. Alas.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen? I’ve had some of my fics scraped and posted to shady publishing sites (“only $5 for all the stories you want!”) and submitted takedown requests. No in-fandom stealing that I’m aware of.

12. have you ever had a fic translated? Yes! Here is a Russian translation of what we don’t talk about (Mass Effect, Zaeed Massani/Karin Chakwas), which I was absolutely tickled pink to receive!

13. have you ever co-written a fic before? Technically, yes. The fic has been subsequently deleted and I have abolished all ties to that person, so that might be a warning. /tongue in cheek

More seriously: I don’t think I can. I’m idiosyncratic and particular about my process, and I just don’t think I’m very good at co-writing with someone. I can take an idea and feedback and process that into my fic, sometimes very heavily, and I can work off someone else’s outline or prompt, but to the level of co-writing, assuming we’re taking equal claim and responsibility for the work? It feels profanely intimate in a way that makes me deeply uncomfortable, which unfortunately probably says more about me than anyone else!

That said: I have been fortunate enough to have truly excellent friends who have also played cheerleader and beta for me, sometimes offering me substantial notes that meant I had to fundamentally rewrite portions of a story. Does this make them co-writers? I don’t think so, but it’s definitely a more intense collaboration than I usually request, and it’s something I reserve for only a few people.

14. what’s your all-time favorite ship? How dare you ask this of a multi-shipper!!!!

I don’t know that I have a real answer for this. In my head, I try to split it by fandoms (but wait! Would I consider Dragon Age Origins, Awakening, DA2, and Inquisition to all have different fandoms?), but some fandoms are only occasional urges and others are more consuming passions, so….

I’ll leave it at this: if I’ve written it, I probably ship it on some level. And not all ships are “oh I think they’re gonna live happily ever after,” some ships are “hm, that could be interesting” or “oh, they could be so bad for each other in such compelling ways,” and others are “they’re good for each other at this point in time, but maybe not beyond that,” etc etc.

15. what’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? If I want to finish it, I assume I eventually will. ‘Eventually’ may take a while. Life is short, love is long, and I do love stories.

16. what are your writing strengths? *hour-long fart noise* Strengths? Idk. I always feel strange talking about my strengths to begin with, and this year has been particularly rough for that because I’ve been taking more deliberate time doing writing exercises and reading different books about writing. It makes me more critical of my own work.

But if I must: sensory immersion. Character interiority. Basically, I try my best to love a character—or at least find something I can love about them, something that evokes care and pity if not admiration—and let that shape how I write them, even if they don’t love themselves. If that makes my authorial bias a bit kinder, then so be it. I feel like the world needs a little more kindness.

17. what are your writing weaknesses? *hour-long fart noise* What about my love of obscure words? If I had a nickel for every time I tried to sneak ‘palimpsest’ into my prose and been called out by a beta, I’d have two nickels! Which isn’t that often, but weird that it happened twice! (Other amazing words I often fight over including or not: phosphenes, mordant, triptych, chiaroscuro, bellicose, gelid. I get a daily word of the day from Merriam-Webster and I don’t know if it’s actually improved my vocabulary or only made me more insufferable!)

I fully admit that sometimes I get overly compelled to write something ‘pretty’ and linguistically clever than fully in the character’s voice. I jump around with sentence fragments and don’t link my scenes; sometimes it works (choppy, disjointed prose for characters who themselves are extremely angry or disconnected from their environment in some way) and more often it doesn’t.

I have mild synesthesia and an idiosyncratic interpretation of certain stimuli, and often need to revise to ensure it makes sense to anyone else. Or if I can tweak it just enough to sound refreshing and vivid. (Example: low musical notes feel ‘blue’ to me, and often bitter. Higher notes can be sharp-sweet or acidic, but usually don’t have a color association. Yellow is rancid. This only becomes a problem when I’m sleep-deprived or highly-caffeinated, as when I once had to stop my playlist because the rapid taste/sound/smell combos were making me nauseous.)

I often want to write characters as softer, kinder, or gentler than they are in canon. Does that sand out their complexity? Yes. Is it because I want them to have a kinder, softer, or gentler future than what their story gave them? Also yes.

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? OH BOY DO I HAVE THOUGHTS.

Okay, so! First of all, I need to foreground this: as a Chinese-American living in the US, I find it extremely off putting when I read a story and the mere choice of capitalization and italics make it clear who the author thinks their intended audience is, and who is ‘other.’ If an author bothers capitalizing or italicizing “Pad Thai,” “Sushi,” or “Shu Mai,” (as in: “I ordered some Shu Mai.”) but not, say “Pizza,” “Burrito,” or “Croissant,” there are some pretty big assumptions going on already that make me feel alienated from the text. (As always, there’s some room to play with: if the author is intentionally writing their POV character as having those particular biases, that’s one thing. When it’s a completely unexamined bias, that’s another.)

Translated text doesn’t need to be italicized or marked as other, unless again, there’s a specific reason that the POV character might see it as ‘other.’ Most people won’t interpret their home language or heart languages as ‘other.’ A dialogue tag like ‘said in Cantonese’ or ‘said in Spanish’ is sufficient, I’ll trust in the reader to pick it up!

I am a first-generation Chinese-American who can’t read the Chinese syllabary. (And what little I speak is Cantonese, not Mandarin. The loss or use of heritage languages across the diaspora is an entire topic by itself, so please understand that this is one person’s view and experience.) Some Chinese writers prefer to write with hanzi; I prefer to write Romanized versions but what goes in a fic will depend on the POV character’s relationship to the language and how intelligible (or not) it’s meant to be to the reader. I generally include context or a note if it’s meant to be clear; if it’s something that the POV character won’t understand, I often prefer to leave it as “speaks in another language” or “said something in another language.”

In general, I find most fictional languages to be intellectual masturbation (there, I said it! :P) and am less interested in those than in how real-world languages are depicted in fiction, especially when read by people who may or may not be familiar with those actual languages and the people who speak them.

19. first fandom you wrote for? While the first fandom I ever posted for was Fallout…very technically I suppose the first fandom I ever wrote for was Pokemon. Because back when I was 9 or 10, I was very invested in Misty and Jesse because they were the only two girls who got a lot of screen time in the anime, and I just really wanted them to be friends!

In hindsight…I don’t think I was consciously thinking of it as shipping terms or romantic interest, but I thought it sucked that the only two girls who really showed up couldn’t at least be friends. So I wrote a lil’ story in which they got trapped in a cave…and obviously they had to camp together…and save each other as they looked for a way out…

Scandalous!!!!

20. favorite fic you’ve ever written? I try to love every fic at least a little before I share it with the world! But this one’s my newest baby:

(love is) the suture and the wound (Dragon Age, Leliana/Morrigan, rated E)

Thank you for reading this far! Now please drink some water and get up and stretch. :P

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