Rating: I say "Everyone", but whatever you want to make of a dude hangin' around being comfy in his undies.
Characters: Mordecai, unhatched!Talon
Author's Note: SO long story short, a convo with one of my Borderlands co-op buddies (who I'm not tagging or whatever because who knows if she wants to be associated with this madness) resulted in issuing each other a challenge to describe the loungewear/underwear of the various BL chars in ridiculous detail as a writing exercise/challenge. Also for lols, which is why I do like 99% of what I do.
I started with Mordecai, because Mordecai. I stole the idea for his "outfit" from an entirely different co-op buddy, who I'm also not tagging or whatever for reasons stated above.
You two know who you are, feel free to out yourselves if you'd like. :D
Also anyone who wants to take up the challenge- freakin' go for it!
What was supposed to be a paragraph drabble ended up as a page length little story, because clearly I'm incapable of brevity. I'll do more eventually.
...
Mordecai leaned back on his favorite armchair and stretched, hearing the little pops and creaks in his tired body as he did so. He was exhausted, but damn if it hadn't been a great day. A small smile crossed his lips has his fingers trailed across the shredded and fluff-leaking upholstery of the chair's back.
For the first time in weeks it didn't hurt to encounter a memory of Bloodwing.
“It's the lucky shorts,” he thought.
Lilith called them his “birth control pants”, and the others simply scoffed, but Mordecai knew better. These weren't just any boxer shorts. They were lucky. He'd been wearing them when he beat the Underdome, when he got his first paying gig as a mercenary, and of course they'd been wrapping his butt the day he found Bloodwing.
Today had been almost as good.
He rubbed the fabric between finger and thumb, enjoying the silky texture. Without his goggles on the colors didn't look the same to him as to most people, but he knew the lucky shorts were predominately a soft, washed out teal. They made a perfect background for the happy yellow duckies that dotted the surface, giving the illusion that they bobbed along in a cartoon depiction of a sunlit pond.
Okay, so they weren't the manliest thing ever, but who gave a fuck anyway?
He scratched at his beard, deep in thought. His gaze was fixed on the large egg that sat in a makeshift nest on the table in front of him. It had taken a lot of searching and more than a little luck to find this egg, and no one- not even Lilith- was going to convince him that the shorts hadn't played a part. In providing superior comfort, if nothing else.
“What am I gonna to call him?” he wondered at the soon-to-be baby bird.
The egg naturally didn't answer, and Mordecai reached behind him to feel the rips in the chair, seeking comfort in the memory of his beloved bird's usual perch.
“Your talons really did a number on this thing, girl.” He murmured.
Wait. Of course, it was perfect. He leaned forward with one hand on his duckie-clad thigh and one stroking the warm, pebbly surface of the egg before him.
“While overall, I think Ellie is a great middle finger to gender stereotypes and sexism in the gaming industry, I also think they kinda screwed up a little when they revealed she used to be a Hodunk. Especially since Hodunks are famous for being inbred rednecks/trailer trash, it gave Ellie a “fat dumb inbred *BEEP*” kind of vibe. I just can’t take her serious anymore (or maybe I’m missing a point here).”
High-five, person who wrote this...or at least high-five for questioning the presentation. I had/have a lot of problems with Ellie, myself. I even wrote a big long thing about it here. Super glad to hear I'm not the only one. (Though I admit that I may have read your confession with a slant from my own perspective...if you're questioning why the only fat person in the game had to be a classic stereotype of a fat person with some positive catchphrases more or less tacked on, I'm with you. If you think that people who come from backgrounds like hers can't be taken seriously, we're operating on two completely different wavelengths.)
I'm particularly irritated by the people who just jumped right on the "NO, CLEARLY YOU DON'T GET IT" bandwagon with an aggressive attitude, because there are two sides to this.
As the confession stated, she's awesome in many ways. It's great that she's body-positive, and that she's rejected the negative stereotypes and behaviors of her family. These are all positive things.
However, there's a lot more going on than meets the eye when dealing with body politics. I'm not going to rehash what I've already written, but in my opinion much of the rest of the game doesn't create an environment where it's easy to accept that the intention behind Ellie's character and message is entirely positive.
It's important to note that a significant portion of this comes from the background of the culture we live in, and has nothing whatsoever to do with the game- but at the same time the game was not created in a vacuum, and cannot pretend that it exists in one. Players will bring their thoughts, experiences, and prejudices into the fictional world with them. Otherwise, what's the point of being inclusive with a variety of characters? It's only by applying what you see ("Wow, people exist that aren't straight white males? And they're accepted and badass? NEAT!") that any shift in long standing shitty thought patterns can occur.
That creates a responsibility to be consistent to the intended message in the rest of the presented material that I feel wasn't followed- and may explain why the poster of this confession had trouble taking Ellie seriously.
First of all, IMO there are few creatures so reviled by the average straight male gamer community as a fat person (by no means am I downplaying the experiences of other marginalized groups, but I present for your consideration that fatness affects people no matter their color, gender, sexuality, etc... the hate is widespread, so to speak) . So right there, Ellie's character is going to be met with resistance, no matter what.
That is something every person brings from the outside world into the game. It doesn't matter what side of the "hey guess what fat people are actually just people" debate you fall on, this is part of the cultural experience that comes with the player.
Throw in the fat jokes (in my previous piece I specifically called out Claptrap). These casually imply that this kind of thing is OK.
Throw in the fact that nobody else in the game looks anything like Ellie. (I'm talking base game here...I have my problems with Motor Momma too, most notably the attitude of "LOL, let's make a really fat woman talk about nothing but eating stuff! Get it? 'Cause that's what fat people do all day!")
Throw in the fact that not only does no one else in the game look remotely like Ellie, but with the exception of some of the NPCs in Sanctuary (who are merely "average sized", and for that matter are wearing a lot of clothing) every woman in the game follows the classic skinny-with-boobs model.
Throw in the BS stereotypes that people with accents like the Hodunks have to deal with.
Throw in...you know, the Hodunks. See above. See the confession, for that matter.
Throw in the fact that while Ellie DOES have missions that are about things other than her physical appearance, she NEVER has one that doesn't address it at all. She's not a person who happens to be fat. She's a Fat Person.
And what does she do? She talks about it. At length. She sends you on a mission about it. It becomes her personality. She has a line that I absolutely abhor- "I think they're tryin' ta mock me or somethin'." Which can be taken as a kickass body-positive fuck-your-beauty-standards sort of thing or...that she isn't all there. Guess which attitude I've run into more often online. Again, I already talked about this, so I don't want to repeat too much.
All of these things add up. Generally, when a fat person is presented as caricature, especially in a context where everything is supposed to be a bit of a joke, the fat person IS the joke. Suddenly, there's Ellie and her body positive message, and it's a serious thing. To me, it doesn't feel like a serious thing. It feels like a joke. Cheap jokes are already being made, and it cheapens her message.
Nobody joins in with Ellie, this lone fat woman, in self-imposed exile out in the harsh desert, to say "Hell yeah, fuck your beauty standards!" The vault hunters help her collect and display her statues, but they're paid to do so. Later on they prove that they'll even toast people sleeping in their homes if you pay them.
All of this is what makes it hard for me to take Ellie "seriously", or as she was intended.
However, on the whole, I agree with the confessor's first point. Overall, Ellie IS a positive character. She has her flaws, and the game has its flaws in the execution, but they're doing an awesome thing. Ellie isn't the representation I would have chosen, but she's a good start.
Standard disclaimer when writing about BL things I don't like: I fucking love the game and universe. If I didn't care so deeply, and think that it has value and that there are things worth discussing, I wouldn't bother. So save your flames, please.
Synopsis: Crackfic wherein Roland REALLY loves Christmas, Lilith is unamused, Mordecai is a loveable jerk, and Brick goes with the flow. Lilith/Roland, Lilith/Mordecai, Roland/Holiday Cheer
Original Date Posted: 9-26-13
A/N: Inspired by Roland saying "It's like Christmas!", naturally. The man loves Christmas, what can I say? This is crackfic, which means that I've made an effort to keep characters recognizably in character, but it's a crackfic so to quote the wise words of Eric Cartman, "I do what I want!". My apologies to Lilith, Roland, Mordecai, and especially Brick. If you take offense to the concept of the story, blame Mr. PD, he's the one that wanted a Christmas crackfic. Classic songs Deck The Halls, O Holy Night, and Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas lovingly butchered by yours truly.
Mordecai's present from Roland is my favorite headcanon, brought on by the Dragon Keep DLC. His love of costume dramas is a recurring theme in my stories. ;)
...
If the rock of a planet called Pandora had possessed a nice, civilized day and night cycle, that day still would have dawned clear and sweltering as usual. Lilith awoke at a ridiculous hour to find the bed she shared with Roland empty and the smell of cinnamon in the air.
"Where the hell did he get cinnamon?" she wondered, slipping out of bed and into an almost-nonexistent nightshirt. As always during the light cycle, the temperature was well over comfort level and edging into miserable.
She headed for open bedroom door and stopped dead at what she saw on the other side. Sparkly scrap-metal snowflakes were hung everywhere, gaily lit by strings of colored lights. What appeared to be a cactus of some sort was set in a corner of the living room, adorned with more lights and various small shiny items, expertly wrapped gifts arrayed at the bottom.
Most disturbingly, Roland was wearing a thick, fluffy red bathrobe and a red hat trimmed with white at the bottom and top. He hummed to himself as he hung still more snowflakes and grinned happily at Lilith when he saw her.
"Merry Christmas, Lil!" he boomed enthusiastically.
Lilith cringed slightly. "Uh, yeah. You too, I guess. Roland, what did you do to the apartment?"
"I'm getting ready for the party, of course! You remember, we're having the gang over! We're having presents, and I'm making Christmas dinner, and we'll sing songs!"
"Oh god." Lilith thought. "I'm living with a madman."
Roland ignored her dismay and waggled a finger at her. "You did remember presents, right?"
Lilith started guiltily. "Oh yeah! Of course I did. I..uh..I've just got to wrap them. Oh hey, I forgot." She snapped her fingers. "I told, uh, Tannis that I'd come visit her today. So I'm just gonna…I'm gonna go do that."
Roland rolled his eyes good-naturedly, resuming his cheerful humming as Lilith escaped into the bedroom to get dressed. He'd known she would forget.
After a few minutes she emerged, wearing as little clothing as she could get away with. The day was getting hotter by the minute. She paused by the door. She had to ask.
"Roland, how are you wearing that robe in this heat?"
He grinned, an expression that was beginning to look vaguely maniacal to his girlfriend. "Ice packs." He replied proudly, and opened the robe to reveal several plastic containers full of ice duct-taped to the fabric.
Lilith nodded. Fair enough. As she was halfway out the door Roland called out to her.
"Be back by three! The guys are getting here at four and we're gonna have my special roasted, stuffed stalker!"
"This planet has finally driven him insane," Lilith thought, stepping out onto the stairs that led down to the dusty streets of New Haven.
...
Brick, Mordecai and Bloodwing did indeed arrive around four in the afternoon, slightly before a harried looking Lilith. She deposited three packages that looked like they'd been wrapped by a small child with no thumbs under the cactus and hugged her two friends, nodding cautiously at the bird. She had to admit it was good to see them, it had been too long.
Maybe not that long, since they'd just finished destroying the Atlas Corporation and averting a planetwide Claptrapocalypse less than two months previous, but after all the time they'd spent in each other's company it was weird not seeing each other every day.
"I hope everybody's hungry!" Roland clapped his hands together, a manic gleam in his eye. "The stalker is just about done!"
The three former vault hunters exchanged a look as Roland charged into the kitchen.
"Did you see that sweater he's wearing?" Mordecai muttered.
"I think they're reindeer," Lilith replied, making a face.
"I like the hat!" Brick chimed in.
...
Dinner had been delicious, if Lilith was being honest with herself. The company was also enjoyable; the group had spent untold hours with each other, but the chance to relax and talk like normal friends hadn't come along very often. Brick had shared several off-color jokes that were met with widespread approval, and Mordecai recounted a tale of midget skag-riders that had the group in stitches.
Now they were back in the living room, which Roland had rearranged for optimal viewing of the spangled cactus. He served eggnog to all and joyfully announced, "Present time!"
Mordecai sipped at his eggnog, making a face. Taking out a hip flask he poured a generous dollop of the liquid within into his glass, and sipped again with satisfaction. Brick poked with interest at one of Roland's lovingly handmade snowflakes, and Lilith tried not to notice that Bloodwing was shredding the back of her favorite couch with his razorlike talons.
"You guys," Roland said, sounding hurt, "Present time!"
"Right! Present time! Yay!" Lilith replied, widening her eyes meaningfully at the other two men.
They dutifully cheered. Mordecai raised his mostly-empty glass in salute.
"Great! I'll be right back!" Roland sprang from his chair with a thump and sprinted for the bedroom.
"And that's why our downstairs neighbors hate us." Lilith commented.
Moments later, Roland returned with a large box. Holes were cut on the side and a gratuitously large bow perched on the lid. He had that semi-maniacal look in his eyes again.
"Brick buddy, this is for you. I hope you like her."
"Her?" Mordecai mouthed at Lilith.
She shrugged. Roland gently placed the box on the big berserker's lap. Brick removed the lid and stared inside, tears filling his eyes. He reached inside and pulled out a golden-haired puppy, who looked even tinier in his massive hands. The puppy immediately began licking him and wagging her little tail, and Brick held her close, smiling broadly through his tears.
"Ohhh, wookit you!" he crooned. "Aren't you just the sweetest widdle doggie, yes you are!"
Bloodwing eyed the small dog with a hungry look, leaning forward with his beak slightly open.
"No, Blood." Mordecai said firmly. "Puppies are friends, not food."
Bloodwing glared at his master for a moment but backed off. Brick hadn't noticed any of this, but clung to the puppy ecstatically.
"I'm gonna name you Dog, yes I am! 'Cause you're my widdle doggie-poo, aren't you?"
"Speaking of doggy poo," Roland leaned close to Lilith and whispered, "she kind of left one on your side of the bed. But I'll clean it up tonight, I promise."
Lilith's eye twitched, but she smiled at him with tight lips. "That's okay. Honey."
"Mordy, it's your turn!" Roland clapped his hands.
He reached under the cactus and came up with a small square package. Mordecai took it and unwrapped it gingerly, saving the paper without thought. He pulled out a box set of video data disks and squinted at the cover for a moment before a smile spread across his face.
"Oh shit, look at that! The Jane Austen Collection!? Thanks man, how did you know? It even has Sense and Sensibility, I love that movie!"
"Lil, this one's for you," Roland said, reaching under the cactus once more. He handed her a flat rectangular box wrapped in pink.
After seeing how thoughtful and perfect Roland's gifts for the others had been, Lilith was dying to know what her boyfriend had gotten for her. She beamed at him and ripped into the shiny paper, ignoring Mordecai's involuntary wince. Her hand felt something fluffy under the box lid and a horrible feeling of premonition swept over her. Gingerly, she removed the lid. It was worse than she'd feared.
"Oh, Roland. How…festive. I love it." She said unconvincingly.
Mordecai choked, trying desperately to keep his mouthful of eggnog from going up his nose. Bloodwing looked at his master with concern and nipped him on the ear. Now bleeding from the ear and covered with the mouthful of holiday alcohol the surprise pain had forced him into spraying everywhere, the hunter could only whimper and brush at the mess he'd made of himself while still attempting to cover his laughter. After all they'd been through, he owed Roland at least that much.
Even Brick looked up from Dog to see what the hell had happened to Mordecai. Catching sight of the sweater that Lilith was holding up with all the affection one would usually associate with a dead animal, he wisely buried his face back into the puppy's soft fur.
"See, sweetie? Now we can match!" Roland put his arm around Lilith and gave her a hearty kiss on the cheek.
"We sure can." She replied emotionlessly. "Nothing I love more than kittens in Santa hats."
"I was gonna get you the reindeer like mine but I thought it might be too masculine for you."
"Oh no, yeah. You definitely made the right choice. Kittens all the way."
"Hey, Lil!" Mordecai piped up, "You should put it on!"
"Yeah! Sweetie, pop that on while I go get the camera!"
Lilith glared at Mordecai as she stood to put the sweater on. He leaned back in his seat, legs crossed comfortably and a look of utter smugness on his face.
"I'm going to kill you one of these days, you skinny asshole."
"You're so beautiful when you're mad, Lilith. Isn't she, Brick?"
"Mmhm," Brick answered, not listening.
Roland returned, camera in hand, and gave it to Mordecai, who took it with a wicked grin. The reindeer-clad soldier took Lilith by the hand and steered her in front of the cactus.
"Okay, ready Mordy?" he asked, arm around Lilith.
"Sure thing, man!"
Lilith tried to smile, managing something more in the line of a constipated grimace. Good enough.
That ordeal finally over, Roland directed the continued present-related festivities. Lilith was fairly pleased with the reception of her last-minute gifts, although Bloodwing immediately ate his new collar (she vehemently denied that it had been intended for cats, and nevermind the happy looking feline on the tag) and Roland, it seemed, already owned Groovy Disco Hits Number 1,575. At least Brick seemed happy with his toothpicks, and Lilith knew for a fact that Mordecai needed new socks. Sure, pink wasn't really his color, but who would know under those big boots of his?
Brick presented her with a pair of slippers, which would have been nice had they not been shaped like small fuzzy skags with holes for one's feet. The fact that they roared when punched was only a marginal improvement. Lilith wondered if he had gone shopping with Roland.
She knew she was in for something obnoxious when she saw Mordecai's expression as he handed her an oddly shaped package that was distressingly squishy on one side.
"What the hell is this, Mordecai?" she asked suspiciously.
"C'mon Lil, don't spoil the surprise." He replied, leaning back into the couch and giving Bloodwing a scritch.
"I know that look, asshole."
"What look?" he feigned hurt. "Did you hear that, Blood? I think she's tryin' to accuse us of somethin'.
"Bloodwing chirped distractedly, still eyeing Dog.
"Not the bird, just you."
"Lilith, come on. It's Christmas! Mordy wouldn't do anything mean, would you Mordy?" Roland broke in with a disapproving look at the pair.
"Nope."
Lilith glared at the hunter, and ripped open the package. A box of graham crackers, a few chocolate bars, and a bag of marshmallows fell into her lap. She looked up at him quizzically.
"For s'mores." Mordecai explained.
Lilith stared blankly.
"See, I figured we could all sit around tellin' ghost stories, toast some marshmallows on your phoenix wings, maybe roast some weenies…"
Lilith threw the bag of marshmallows at his head. He caught them and smirked.
"Jeez Lil, I thought you liked to cook."
"I suppose I could roast a weenie." She said with venom.
Roland coughed. "How about some carols? I've been looking around and it turns out Pandorans have their own special versions! I made everyone a copy."
He reached down next to his chair and produced an alarmingly thick sheaf of papers, distributing them to the other three.
Lilith looked at hers, mildly horrified.
"Silent night, get in a fight?" Mordecai read aloud dubiously.
"Ooh, let's sing Deck The Vault!" Brick grinned. "Let's sing Deck The Vault, Dog."
.
Deck the vault with loot and riches
Fa la la la la, la la la la
I'll get there before you bitches
Fa la la la la, la la la la
We'll all use our favorite weapons
Fa la la, la la la, la la la
And we won't lose our intestines
.
"Wait. Wait. Shut up, Brick. Nice voice though, but shut up." Lilith looked at Roland. "Is this real? What the hell do intestines have to do with Christmas?"
"I dunno, Lil. This is Pandora. I think they spend more time looking at intestines here than most places."
"Good point."
"It is kinda festive, I guess." Mordecai said, drinking from his flask.
"How come nobody joined in?" Brick asked sadly.
"Come on, guys. He's right. Next one together!" Roland clapped his hands.
"Yeah, rain check there, amigo. I gotta take a leak." Mordecai stood. "Bathroom?"
"You gotta go through the bedroom, down the hall." Roland replied, scanning the lyric sheet.
"Here we go!" he pointed halfway down the fifth page. "O Holy Night."
"Yeah!" Brick cheered.
"Um, yay?" Lilith smiled thinly after a look from Roland.
.
O holy night,
The sun is brightly shining
Over the sand, where the skags have their dens
They keep their pups from losing their intestines
This world is harsh, and their smell is immense
.
"Hey Lil!" Mordecai called from the bedroom.
"What?" she called back, grateful for an excuse to stop singing.
"C'mere, I think somethin's wrong with your toilet!"
"Of course there is." Lilith sighed.
"I'll go, sweetie," Roland offered as Brick continued to sing.
"No!" Lilith stood abruptly. "I mean, you know, that's okay. You stay and sing."
She walked down the hall, wondering what was wrong with the plumbing this time. To be fair, it worked most of the time and that was saying a lot for New Haven. Still, she wished it was more reliable. Last week a few bullets had washed their way into the bowl, and honestly, that was just weird.
"What's going on, Mor-" she stopped dead a few feet into the bedroom.
He leaned casually against the doorframe, shirtless. He had one hand on the back of his neck, the gentle stretch showing off the muscles that were always a bit of a surprise on his lean frame. A beautifully wrapped box was cradled in his other hand at crotch level. Lilith licked her lips unconsciously, trying not to remember the last time she'd seen the hunter with his shirt off. She had a sneaking suspicion about the package.
"Mordecai, what's in the box?" she asked, slightly hoarse.
He didn't answer, just chuckled. A familiar feeling rippled down her spine at the sound.
"WHAT'S IN THE BOOOX?" Lilith demanded in a low voice.
"Somethin' I've been wanting to give you for a long time."
"It hasn't been that long, asshole. Does that bitch Moxxi not want it anymore?"
Mordecai looked genuinely hurt for a moment, but recovered quickly.
"Just what do you think I've got here, chica?" he held out the box to her.
Lilith cringed as he moved, but quickly saw that her suspicion had been wrong.
"What do you- oh. I thought that you had your, uh…"
"Your mind goes interesting places, Lil."
"Interesting? Don't flatter yourself. You knew what I was going to think. And what's with the half-naked routine?"
"It's hot as hell. Kinda like you with those cute little kittens hugging your-"
"Ha. Ha."
"Lilith, come here. Please?" he changed his tone to the soft one he used to use on her, almost as tender as the one he used on Bloodwing.
She felt herself responding to it and almost without realizing what she was doing she was suddenly standing next to him, looking up into his face.
"What do you want?" she whispered bitterly. "You dumped me, remember? I'm with Roland now."
"I know."
"So why are you doing this to me?"
"Because it's Christmas? And I wanted to tell you I was wrong and I'm sorry. Open the box?"
Lilith took it reluctantly. She looked at it a moment, wondering what could be inside. What could he possibly think he could give her that would make what had happened between them better? She lifted the lid and laughed.
A silky babydoll chemise was inside. It was blue, and covered with happy, googly-eyed cartoon skags.
"To go with your new slippers." He deadpanned.
Lilith tossed the box on the bed and held the garment against her, still laughing.
"Oh Mordecai, it's just what I wanted! Skags are so chic this season!" she joked.
"One more thing." He reached into his pocket and withdrew a sprig of greenery tied together with a red ribbon. He hung it on a small nail on the doorframe above them.
"Is that mistletoe?" Lilith asked, surprised. She hadn't seen the stuff since she was a child.
"Yeah. Because it's Christmas."
"Because it's Christmas." Lilith echoed, letting him draw her into his arms.
As they kissed, the world fell away for a moment. She didn't care if it was wrong, or what it might mean later. In the other room, she could hear Roland and Brick's voices joined in song, with Dog's agitated howls weaving through the melody.
.
Have yourself a Christmas on Pandora
Watch the wildlife play
Even stalkers
Don't eat intestines this day
Have yourself a Christmas on Pandora
See the rakk in flight
In the sky
They won't rip off your face tonight
Here we are in the Borderlands
In the Borderlands to stay
All our friends have their innards in
On this special holiday
Through the years we all will be together
If the Fates allow
On this day let all bloodshed be disavowed
And have a merry Christmas on Pandora now
.
"Merry Christmas, Scruffy." Lilith whispered, breaking the kiss. It was time to rejoin the others.
"Merry Christmas, chica." Mordecai touched her shoulder gently, and she turned back toward him.
"I meant what I said." He paused. "Those kittens look great on your-"
"Shut up." She smiled up at him. "Get your shirt back on before I tell Roland you want a sweater, too."
Synopsis: Mordecai hated being back in Sanctuary, but there were benefits. Lilith/Mordecai
Original Date Posted: 11-18-13
A/N: Written purely as an excuse for a fun little PWP.
...
Mordecai hated being back in Sanctuary, but there were benefits, too. Nights like this were one of them. The vault hunters were all off on various missions, and even Roland was nowhere to be found. It was just him, plenty of booze, and Lilith's ass.
Naturally Lilith came attached to her ass, but the siren's habit of bending anxiously over the holographic map in the middle of the room for minutes at a time made up for the awkwardness that still lingered between them even after all this time. The view from his favorite chair was excellent, and Mordecai sprawled there comfortably, drinking and watching.
Lilith leaned over the map, marked something down, and paced back out to the balcony. She spent a few moments out there before walking across the room again. A brief settling of springs indicated she'd sat down on the couch, but before long she was bending over the map again and Mordecai was back to enjoying the sight.
“I can feel you staring at my ass, Mordecai.” she finally snapped, not turning around.
“You can, huh?” he replied, setting down an empty bottle.
“Why are you staring at my ass, Mordecai?” she demanded, still staring at the map.
“Because it's there.” he extracted a fresh bottle from his storage deck. “Why d'ya keep pointin' it at me?”
“I'm not.” she snapped.
“Mmhmm.”
“Anyway,” Lilith continued, “don't you have anything better to do than stare at my ass?”
“Not really.” he stretched a little, popping his neck. “Staring at the nicest ass in Sanctuary seems like an okay way to spend the evening, 'specially since you keep pointin' it at me.”
She straightened up and crossed her arms over her chest, but didn't turn around. Mordecai smirked at her turned back.
“What about Moxxi's ass?” she muttered.
“Oh god, are we startin' that again? Really?” Mordecai spat back.
Lilith slumped and turned around to face him. Mordecai took one look at her face and offered his newly opened bottle, which she accepted.
“Sorry.” Lilith mumbled, taking a drink as she sat on the table next to the hunter's chair. “I guess I...I dunno. Whatever.”
“Yeah,” Mordecai agreed. He popped the top of yet another bottle.
“So what's up, chica? Our fearless leader ignorin' you again?”
Lilith sighed. “Yeah. Something like that. You know Axton's been sleeping with him? I just found out today. Bastard told me he didn't have time for that kind of thing, the whole “it's not you it's me” speech, then Mr. Commando-With-The-Tight-Pants shows up...”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Mordecai looked at her, watching her drink. Watching her lips as they wrapped around the mouth of the bottle. Remembering what it felt like when they wrapped around him.
“I have time,” Mordecai murmured.
Lilith nudged him with her foot. “Yeah, I just bet you do.”
“No, really.” he put his bottle on the table and his hand on her knee.
Her breath caught a little, and when she didn't protest he slid his other hand up the outside of her thigh, gently caressing the bare skin at her hip.
“Mordy,” she whispered, “breaking up last time-”
“Was a mistake.” he replied. He took her hand in his, then kissed her palm, inner wrist, knuckles.
“It sucked, is what I was going to say,” Lilith continued.
Her bottle clinked against his as she set it down. She used her free hand to remove Mordecai's goggles and set them on the table as well. He blinked at her, his eyes adjusting to the sudden shift in color.
“Maybe we were just moving too fast. Y'know, too much relationship, not enough sex for just the sake of it?” he teased.
Lilith quirked her lips, trying not to smile. She nodded with mock seriousness. “You might be right, you know.”
“I do my best.” he rose from his seat and kissed her.
It had been a long time since they'd last kissed, but the years between seemed to disappear. The hand that had been playing at her hip slid under her shirt and up her back, settling for the moment on her ribcage as he pulled her close. Their tongues met and Lilith made a small noise, pressing into him. Mordecai used his free hand to caress first her face, then down her neck and collarbone.
Lilith broke the kiss to grin at him, golden eyes already blazing with lust. He chuckled at her and buried his face in her neck, alternating kisses and nips. Her swirling tattoos glowed lightly in the dimness of the room, attracting his attention like a beacon.
“What do you think of the new ones?” she asked, nearly breathless.
“They're beautiful,” he replied, lips never leaving her skin as he spoke. “This one,” he softly traced a line with one of his long fingers, “was starting to appear last time I saw you.”
“I wondered if you noticed.”
“Seemed impolite to mention, 'specially since all I wanted to do was this.” he licked it and Lilith half-giggled, half-moaned.
“That tickles, damn it.”
“Sorry.” he smirked, tone making it clear that he wasn't sorry in the slightest.
“Oh, shut up.” she replied, tugging at the silky red fabric that wrapped around his body. “Scruffy, what the hell even is this?”
“It's a long story,” Mordecai replied. “You want it off?” he fiddled with a couple of strategic straps and the whole wrap slithered into a puddle on the floor.
“So much clothing,” Lilith sighed.
“I could say the same about you. Too much for my taste, anyway.”
“As long as we're in the awkward pause portion of the foreplay, should we go somewhere a little less public?” Lilith hopped down from the table and looked up at him.
“So this is definitely happening, then?” Mordecai smiled and stroked her hair.
“Oh yeah, definitely.”
“How about my place?”
…
The trip from the fast travel station, across the snowy terrain, and up the stairs into Mordecai's semi-abandoned home in the Tundra Express passed by in a blur of kisses and groping. Lilith lit a fire while Mordecai removed the more fiddly bits of his wardrobe, and before either of them really knew what was happening, they were both half naked on his bed and wrapped around each other, making out like teenagers.
Mordecai moaned as Lilith straddled him and unbuttoned his fly. She licked her lips at the sight of his cock straining against its fabric confines.
“Lil, for the love a god don't just stare at it.”
“So impatient.” she shook her head, feigning indifference.
Mordecai carefully flipped her over so that their positions were reversed, somehow removing his pants in the process. Lilith shimmied out of hers, and the pair locked eyes for a moment.
She pulled him down to whisper huskily in his ear. “If you're waiting for an invitation...seriously Mordy, you aren't waiting for an invitation, are you?”
Mordecai reached down to touch her, running his fingers down her silky skin. His cock twitched and he groaned as he felt her wetness on his fingertips. Lilith moaned in response, tangling her fingers in his hair.
He grasped her wrist and pulled it gently out of his hair so that he could move. He kissed her wrist, feeling the pulse beneath his lips.
“Now. Please?” Lilith pleaded, arching her hips beneath him.
She was wet enough that he entered her with the movement, and they both cried out in pleasure. She felt even better than he remembered. He wouldn't admit it to her, but he'd invested a lot of time since their last encounter imagining this moment, and for once reality was better than fantasy.
Her muscles tightened around him, building delightful friction as they rode each other. He hadn't forgotten what she liked, and his memory was rewarded with her ardent cries.
He could feel himself getting close already, and tried to slow the pace a bit, but Lilith was having none of it.
“Lil, I gotta slow down, I'm gon-” he gasped.
“I know,” she dug her fingernails involuntarily into his back. “Me too..oh please don't stop.”
He lost himself to her then, abandoning all last vestiges of thought. Nothing existed for him but Lilith, her sounds, her smell, the feel of her writhing beneath him. He thrust into her hungrily, desperately. He'd missed her, all this time. He wanted this to last forever. He wanted it to end so that they could do it again.
He could feel his release building and fought against it even as he worked to reach it.
Lilith cried his name and he was dizzy with the primal need to come inside her. He was about to lose his battle against himself when Lilith orgasmed with a scream and they came together, each feeling the other and reveling in the rediscovered pleasure of it.
Mordecai sagged and they panted together for a few moments, unwilling to part. Lilith laughed and pushed gently at his chest.
“Off.”
“Fuck.” Mordecai flopped on the bed, holding out his arm for her.
“Yep.” Lilith agreed, snuggling against his chest.
“Missed you.” he kissed her forehead.
“You too.” she yawned.
Mordecai smiled. He hated being back in Sanctuary, but there were benefits, too.
Hey! So...I forgot that I made these things several months ago. I spend a lot of time writing and thinking about crackfic, but believe it or not sometimes the crazy shit doesn't just flow magically into an open word document (WHY DOES THIS NOT HAPPEN, THAT WOULD BE AMAZING).
So when a friend discovered Generator Land OF COURSE I had to make a couple. It started out simply, with the Crack Pairings Generator, then evolved into the slightly-more-complicated Crackfic Plot Generator. Beware, because they're both NSFW.
Most of the characters and NPCs from BL1 and BL2 are in both, with the exception of Tina because ew underage. I am totally open to suggestions to improve/expand, and if there's interest or I get bored enough I might even make a new one entirely. :)
Crack pairings examples:
Roland settled for Claptrap
Steve pines over Mister Torgue
Brick is wank fodder for Gaige
Doctor Zed gets physical with Crazy Earl
Moxxi gave crabs to TK Baha
Salvador lusts after Salvador
Crackfic plot examples:
Patricia Tannis fought with Roland and then broke into Marcus's store room.
Handsome Jack made faces at Mordecai and then drove around looking for a “date”.
Lilith made a sandcastle with Claptrap and then blew up a bunch of shit BECAUSE REASONS.
Sir Hammerlock had a fight with Gaige and then cuddled all night.
Angel won a fight with Steve and then sabotaged an important conference call between Mr. Blake and Butt Stallion.
Claptrap made cookies with Brick and conveniently forgot how to wear clothes.
...
Please feel free to use these generators to inspire your fanwork! :D Just... link me to it, because I desperately want to see.
Bloodwing is pretty much done at this point! And perches pretty well on my arm (my arm is going to be SO tired after each day I do Mordecai). I do kind of want to do a “Ordinary Activities with Bloodwing” photoshoot now (Mordecai and Bloodwing have a tea party, go to the park, etc) because she’s so fun to carry around. Need to build a perch for her when she’s just hanging around in our apartment.
Now to finish everything else! ahhh!
I've put so damn many hours into BL2, I feel like I have personal relationships with the various characters. :P
Tl;dr I used to hate her, now I love her.
First of all, allow me to announce a pertinent fact- I'm fat. I am a fat woman, and I don't apologize for it. I did, for many years. I still have significant trouble with self-esteem some days (throwing off years of conditioning and abuse is not an overnight process, mmkay?), but thanks to the Fat Acceptance movement, and the amazing bloggers who are a part of it, my life has really improved. (Also, I'm now brave enough to go out in public with short sleeves to better show off my Borderlands sleeve tattoo. Awww yeeah)
(Required reading: New To Fat Acceptance? at Corpulent, and Yes, It's Okay To Be Fat at Dances With Fat. )
I can't find the link anymore, but when I first read about Ellie, I think maybe even before the first trailer for BL2 that included her came out (I could be wrong about that) I was cautiously optimistic. I wanted to love her, and I wanted desperately to look up to her. Also, she has a giant crusher that she puts bandits in. HELL YES.
I first started feeling apprehensive about Ellie when Claptrap started making fat jokes. ("Two cannibal midgets in a fat guy's ribcage!", "They say Jack's drilling operations are causing those earthquakes...that, or your mom just got out of bed!", "Number two: dudes. But hideous ones. we’re talkin’ morbidly obese, we’re talkin’ body odor, we’re talkin’ acne scars...") Which, yes, it's Claptrap. He's annoying and abrasive by design, but what purpose is served by making some players feel bad?
My trust that Ellie wasn't actually supposed to be a more subtle joke? Little bit eroded at that point, tbh.
So I got to The Dust, cheered through her intro, and did the things. I'm not going to recount her missions, everybody is familiar with them by now. Mostly, I had to keep reminding myself of what I had read. Intellectually, I knew that she had been created with the intent of positivity and inclusivity. So why was I bothered?
It took a while to figure out.
Let's be truthful here, OK? The world of today is one where the majority of fat people are treated like something less-than-human. People think it's totally okay to concern troll, and society dictates that the fat person on the receiving end is supposed to act thankful for it. Doctors often refuse to talk about anything other than weight, no matter what the patient's presenting concern is. Fat people deal with microaggressions on a daily basis.
Long story short, society being what it is, there's a lot of trust issues at play.
Ellie was a new character, and we had two family members to provide reference for what she might be like. First we have Moxxi, the traditionally sexy goddess of innuendo. Second, we have Scooter, who is awesome, but a little short on brains.
Ellie starts spouting her body positive quotes ( I was a little bit nettled that she seemed to be just parroting quotes found during a quick trip through body postive Pinterest boards. Are they awesome quotes? Fuck yes. But...) and given her family history, and what society's attitude toward fat people, to me it honestly came across as "Oh how funny, she thinks she's hot! What could be more hilarious?!"
(This happens in the comments of body positive photo blogs All. The. Time. If you don't want to lose all faith in humanity, never read the comments. Ever.)
See? Trust. And it had already been damaged for cheap laughs (thanks, Claptrap).
I kept trying to believe what I had read about the positive intentions behind her, but it was so hard. Playing Ellie's missions online with strangers on mic has led me to quit the game more than once. It's just...ugh.
The more I read about Borderlands and intentions for inclusivity as far as sexual orientations go, the more irritated I got with Ellie. I love that the gay and bisexual characters simply ARE. They're allowed to be awesome people who just happen to not be heterosexual. Why can't Ellie be an awesome person who just happens to be fat? ("Unless," says the mistrustful voice in the back of my mind, "it's because they're trying to laugh at her...")
I like her message, but I don't like that until the Wedding Day Massacre DLC, most of her dialogue involves her physical appearance in some way. I LOVED that DLC, because Ellie was finally a character like everybody else. To me, that's a truly positive portrayal. Fat people...we're just people. All people are just people, at the heart of things.
Yesterday on Anthony Burch's ask.fm, somebody wrote a really beautiful little thing to express how Ellie had helped them with their body image, and I was immediately put into my place.
How incredibly wonderful that someone was able to get such an important, life-changing message from Ellie. I've never loved video games more, and I *really* goddamn loved video games to begin with.
And then some concern trolling jerk wrote a gross little thing about how they certainly hope nobody is implying that fat people have a right to exist in their nasty unhealthy (*pearl clutch*) bodies without trying to do their societal duty by losing weight (I...paraphrased the shit out of that.). Burch's reply was so decent, and non-fat-phobic, I was ashamed of all the hate and mistrust I'd been carrying around all this time.
My entire position and feelings about Ellie got turned on their fucking heads in that moment.
"PD, you asshole," I thought. "Is Ellie everything you wished she could be? No. But SHE HELPED SOMEONE. SHE IS POSITIVE! Stop being a mistrustful, defensive dick!"
So I wrote a thing, and it apparently came out as critical because I suck at writing with a character limit (...obviously).
And so I've just spent the last couple of hours trying to express everything without (one hopes) making a complete ass of myself. And honestly, I really do want to finally get this shit off of my chest for no-one but myself, and it just seemed like time. And I grew up with the internet, so of course I have to post it. :P
I'm on a roll of talking about myself tonight. :P I was responding to a PM about fanfics with ridiculously OOC characters and I started rambling (as I do) and then I cut it because I was like, "DUDE they don't care about your BS that much, STFU" but I'm pasting it here because THIS IS MY BLOG MUA HA HA HA HA HAAAAA.
My personal motivation for writing and reading fanfic is basically that I love the canon offerings so much I want more. I like to explore details that would never happen in the original material, and the closer the characters are to the original, the more exciting it is to read. Whether it's an introspective bit of backstory, a romantic tryst, or something totally off-the-wall, the characters have to be reasonably recognizable or it can really fall flat. I grew up reading Star Trek novels as a kid and when I discovered fanfic years later I realized that's exactly what those novels really are. And they're published! I thought that was the coolest thing at the time, and I've never really lost that feeling of, "I want to do that. I want to make a substitute for this finished story that left a void in my life, and share it so other people can enjoy".
Which is not to say that I think I'm this badass goddess of actually succeeding, but that's my lofty-ass goal.
Synopsis: A short oneshot depicting Mordecai's very first (human) kill and how it makes him feel. Challenge fic.
Original date posted: 8-15-13
A/N: I think this is one of my favorite stories. I'm such a sucker for Mordecai, it was really fun trying to imagine him as a young man. (And budding chick magnet, naturally. Heh)
The sun of Artemis beat down on the young man’s head. Sweat trickled slowly down his neck, dripping to the tall grass on which he lay. He swiped absently at it, absorbed in the scene he saw through the scope of his new sniper rifle. Generally, he preferred a good revolver, but his new employers wanted him to use this gun and he didn’t care enough to argue.
His target would be just as dead, either way. He smiled at the thought. Finally, a greater challenge. He was no stranger to felling animals or disappointingly inanimate clay pigeons, but this is what he was born for. To be a bounty hunter. He rolled the words around his mouth, near silently. Bounty hunter. My name’s Mordecai the Bounty Hunter. I’m a killer for hire.
The chicks would love that. He scratched the scant stubble on his chin contemplatively, still gazing through his scope. Maybe I should grow a beard.
Sudden movement from the men below him snapped his attention fully back to the task at hand. The meeting was over, it seemed. The spy was watching the other men, and Mordecai was watching the spy. The orders were that no one should possess the knowledge that the spy had obtained but their mutual employers, and those orders would be carried out.
As agreed, the spy waited behind in the meeting spot until long after the others had left. He turned up to the hill where he knew the sniper, his partner, lay in wait. He grinned cheerfully and gave a thumbs up, pleased with a job well done.
Mordecai stared at the man through the scope, looking into his eyes. His blue, happy eyes. This spy had become a liability to the company, and his employment was at an end. When time began to tick by uncomfortably slowly with no sign from his partner, the man’s grin began to falter. He backed away one step, two. The blue eyes began to dart around, darkened by fear. Just before he turned to run, a desperate act of a desperate man, Mordecai took his shot.
The man’s head, simply put, was gone. The young killer laughed, a chillingly infectious laugh full of his pride in his skill and the power it brought him. Just one shot, and riches he’d never before experienced in his short life were his for the taking. Somewhere deep inside him he realized it could become an addiction, this act. Seeking these kind of thrills could get a man killed.
A man. He’d never thought of himself that way before, but things had changed for him with that shot. Boys do not look into a man’s eyes and cause his destruction. Only men kill other men in cold blood. Feeling drunk with his success and the rush of power, Mordecai the killer stood. One act left to perform before he could claim his pay. The ECHO recorder that the spy had made of the conversation had to be returned to his employers, and they would know if he listened to it. It was none of his concern and he would not be tempted.
Before taking a step, he paused a moment, considering his rifle. He dug a knife out of his hip pouch and carved a small notch on the shiny new surface of the gun. It was to be the first notch of many.
Synopsis: Tannis copes with the news of Roland's death and the reality of her ever-dwindling sanity. Challenge fic. Oneshot.
Original date posted: 8-15-13
Journal of Dr. Patricia Tannis, Pandora, Date Unknown
No one really expects me to feel much of anything anymore, but sometimes they’re wrong. It’s true that much of my time is spent in bizarre fantasy now, but I have moments of clarity. I dread them, to be honest. Ever since I took this job and came to this backward planet, the steady decline of my sanity has been a fact of my life. At first I was horrified, but now I view it like an old friend, a comforting escape from my existence.
My work is rarely affected in any significant way. It turns out that madness is not a barrier to science, though given my predecessors in this field that should come as no surprise. I find great inspiration in my delusions and always keep notes. At least that part of my training hasn’t left me. When the fog lifts and I can see with clear eyes again, I can work. My work is my real life, what I always come back to. If I ever lose it…perhaps I won’t even notice by that point.
Before Dahl, I was highly regarded in my field. I had friends, admirers. Promising students. I vaguely remember a time when I enjoyed the company of other people. That memory seems like a dream now, or a nightmare- the kind that wakes me up with numb horror and cold sweats. It is so distant from my current reality it seems like a cruel joke.
Did I have a romantic partner? It feels like I did. I can’t even begin to guess at gender or even the kind of person I would want to be with. It’s a feeling that nags at me sometimes, though. I fancied myself to have a brief liaison with my ECHO recorder a few years ago, which leads me to conclude that I miss that type of contact. No matter. I will forget soon enough.
Before the four vault hunters came in response to my offworld communiqué, I had my studies to occupy much of my time. The creeping madness was slower back then, and I made many great strides in beginning to understand the strange Eridians and their culture. With no small amount of pride I remember how I discovered the locations of the vault pieces. I do wish I had known what would happen as a result of those discoveries, but in all honesty I doubt that anything could stop my lust for knowledge.
I do wish Hyperion hadn’t killed my handsome ceiling chair, though.
One of the new vault hunters came to me today, the young one with the interesting name. Gear? Cog? Lever? No. Gauge. That’s it. She built a most splendid robot, much better than the companion I attempted to construct for myself out of spare parts from the junkyard at Tartarus Station. I’ve never been much of an engineer. Archeology is a puzzle whose pieces I can master.
But what about Gauge? She wanted something, what was it? Oh yes. Terrible news, in fact. It seems that Handsome Jack has killed Roland, the leader. I always liked him. Even as my phobias and delusions began to overtake me, he was always kind. I recognized a drive in him that I once possessed myself. Had he chosen a different career path, he would have made me a wonderful student. It would have been useful to have interns with guns.
The Siren has been taken as well, the first one. The one without proper respect for scientific enquiry. My acquisition of her panties was purely in the interest of scientific research. It was simply coincidence that my own were in the wash and I absentmindedly donned hers. Note to self: Patricia, you still look great in a thong, no matter what the stapler says. She’s just catty and jealous.
But I digress. I find myself in one of my moments of clarity (writing seems to focus my thoughts most efficaciously) now, and I am surprised and somewhat gratified to be experiencing sadness at Roland’s murder. Anger, it seems, is also within my reach! A most fascinating development. Perhaps there is a correlation between extreme emotion and mental focus? I must conduct a series of experiments on myself, perhaps starting as soon as that shrew of a stapler goes to sleep. I cannot concentrate with her constant criticisms.
I shall sit with a cup of cold cocoa and listen to my torture recordings again to put myself in the proper frame of mind. It will be unpleasant, but without my work I am lost.
germansingergirl
pixelskylines
jbbartram-illu
vaporwave
theartofmadeline
janainaart
jacobvanloon
annaxmalina
areudirty
tangentwithtanner
dededos
