In honor of the Ides of March what historical ‘fact’ (in quotes because ancient Roman historians are known for getting up to fuckshit) about Julius Caesar is funniest?
Crucifying pirates who thought he’d been joking when he said he would (he wasn’t
Being known for wearing slutty tunics (hussy)
“All the Gauls did Caesar vanquish, Nicomedes vanquished him”
Getting called “every woman’s man and every man’s woman”
Here’s @smashcut ‘s submission for @phantomlim with Craig Boone and their original character Dustin.
Pairings: Boone/Courier
Summary: Prompt: “Boone and my courier, staying warm by snuggling by a fire. Boone is relaxing with a smile on his face while Dustin seems to be telling stories while resting his head on Boone's shoulder. .”
Word Count: 1,627
Rating: SFW
Warnings: none
The holidays always made Dustin a little homesick. It had been years since he was last home, but the chill in the air had him longing for his family’s bighorner ranch.
It had been a few months since he had seen Lily and Marcus as well.
“Hey Boone”, Dustin called out from his bedroom. Craig was likely sulking around in the kitchen, looking for a box of Sugar Bombs Veronica hadn’t eaten yet.
“Yeah?” Dustin heard his footsteps pad across the threadbare rug in the hall, his stubbly head poking through the doorframe, mouth full.
Dustin leapt up from his cross legged position on the bed, “Wait, are you eating my Sugar Bombs?”
Boone shook his head, trying to surreptitiously chew at the same time, ducking behind the door frame back into the kitchen.
“Get back here!” Dustin laughed, giving chase.
“I only had a few, I promise”, Boone chuckled, holding his hands up in surrender, “Who do you think I am? Veronica?”
Dustin playfully snatched the box out of Boone’s grip, popping a few Sugar Bombs into his mouth.
“I was thinking”, Dustin’s line of thought garbled by a mouthful of sugary cereal, “we should go to Jacobstown.”
Boone paused, mouth twisting into a smirk, letting Dustin continue.
“I’m just, you know...I wanna see the bighorners. And Marcus”, his thoughts trailed off, withering under Boone’s skeptical gaze.
“Uh-huh”, Boone let the silence hang between them.
“I-“
Boone cut him off, ruffling Dustin’s hair , “Of course I’ll go with you. Was just thinking about the weather.”
“It’s not supposed to snow for over a week, and it’s not too cold out now!”
“When did you want to leave?”
Dustin made a vague ‘I don’t know’ sound and shrugged. “A couple days, maybe? There’s not much for me to do around here right now.”
Boone pursed his lips, planning the logistics, startled by Dustin, who swooped in on his tip toes and planted a quick kiss on his cheek.
“Think about it”, Dustin called, padding to the sink, salvaging the rest of his Sugar Bombs.
True to his word, Boone figured out travel plans, and they left a few days later. Their trek was mostly uneventful, thanks to Boone. He had accustomed to traveling with Dustin, sniping potential threats from a distance before Dustin had a chance to accidentally draw their attention. The only incident was when Dustin stumbled onto a den of feral dogs. They managed to escape with Dustin only scraping his palms and cutting his knee on a rock.
They traversed the winding, cracked pavement that led to the gates of Jacobstown. They could hear Lily shouting at her bighorner herd as they approached the main lodge. She waved at her grandson (as she called Dustin) and his boyfriend as Dustin and Boone approached the lodge. Marcus was in the foyer, clearly expecting their arrival.
“Dustin, Boone, so good to see you!” Marcus’s rich baritone boomed as he swept the two men into a hug.
“Marcus!” Dustin’s voice was muffled against the Super mutants stomach.
“Thanks for having us on such short notice”, Boone said in his trademark monotone as Marcus released them, “this one wanted to come see you for Christmas”, playfully elbowing Dustin in the ribs.
“You’ve picked the perfect time for it, we’ve fixed the place up over the past few months”, Marcus gestured to the foyer, “granted it’s not exactly at its prewar splendor, but it’s certainly an improvement.”
Gone were the splintered chairs, spindly tables, and thick coat of dusty grime Dustin remembered from his first visit to Jacobstown. During his time away, someone had taken the time to clean and polish the floors and repair the furniture.
Marcus couldn’t hide the pride creeping into his voice, “Let me give you a tour of the place.”
Dustin and Boone shed their coats, knocking Mojave sand loose from their boots, and followed Marcus up the stairs, Dustin slipping part way up and racking his shin against a step.
“It looks as though our timing couldn’t be better, we’ve got working fireplaces and you two must have brought the weather”, Marcus continued, nodding towards a window near the front door.
Snow flurries were beginning to fall from heavy grey clouds.
Boone smiled wryly at Dustin. “And you told me the weather was going to be clear.”
Dustin coughed, trying to hide a sheepish grin, “Listen, I knew we would make it in time!”
“Oh you did, did you?”
“Well, I knew you would make us make it in time.”
Boone cocked his head, grinning, “You got me there.”
They followed Marcus to the second floor of the lodge. It was silent, save for the wind whipping up outside. Marcus led them to a suite towards the end of the hall.
“I’ll leave you here, let you get settled”, Marcus opened the door waving the two men inside, shutting it gently behind them.
The room was clean and new, by post war standards. A queen sized bed dominated the room, outfitted with clean linens and stacked with thick blankets. A bighorner hide rug sprawled on the floor in front of a stone fireplace.
Boone pulled the drapes back, revealing the expansive grounds of Jacobstown; stretching from Lily’s bighorner herd, the front gates, and the mountains beyond. Lily was shepherding her flock to a small barn, as the snow was now driving down in sheets.
Dustin flopped into one of the armchairs flanking the window, unlacing his boots. Boone unpacked his rucksack into the spartan set of dresser drawers, tucking a small package from his bag deep into the drawer, behind his socks and pants.
“I wonder--”, a heavy scrape and loud thump interrupted Dustin’s thought.
Boone spun around; somehow, his chair had slid out from under him and Dustin was lying face down, groaning quietly.
“Are you bleeding?” Boone asked, his tone casual. Try as he might, sometimes not even Boone could save Dustin from himself.
Turning over, Dustin sat up, slumped slightly against the wall, “I think I’m fine”, laughing a little as he said it, “I was wondering if Lily would come in soon.”
Boone helped him to his feet, “If not, we can see her around dinner. I thought we could rest”, he said, planting a soft kiss in Dustin’s hair, “I’ll get a fire going while you wash up, if you want.”
Dustin blushed, giving Boone’s hand a little squeeze before padding off to the bathroom.
One of the Jacobstown residents had thoughtfully left a pile of firewood near the hearth. Boone carefully stacked the logs and kindling, coaxing a flame from an ancient set of matches.
He could hear Dustin humming off key over running water, and smiled to himself. Straightening up, he took a few blankets off the pile, settling them over the bighorner rug.
Dustin burst out of the bathroom, clad in his sleeping clothes, hair damp and face freshly scrubbed.
He couldn’t help smiling at Dustin’s exuberance, “I’ll clean up and join you.”
Boone emerged from the bathroom to see Dustin snuggled under the blankets.
“Mind if I join you?” Boone whispered in Dustin’s ear.
Dustin peeled back one of the blankets as an invitation. As Boone settled in, Dustin pulled him closer, burying his head into Boone’s chest, breathing in deeply, reveling in the scent of his soap and skin. Boone ran his thumb over Dustin’s ribs, tracing each bump and dip through the threadbare cotton.
He always forgot how small Dustin was until he held him. The fabled Courier Six, savior of Freeside, a larger than life New Vegas icon, all contained in this skinny, short frame he held in his arms. Overcome with memories, Boone squeezed Dustin, kissing his forehead.
“Did you want your Christmas present?” Boone whispered in Dustin’s ear.
Dustin sat up slightly, his blue eye sparkling as it caught the firelight, “You bringing me here was my present.”
“Don’t let the heat out”, Boone scooched out from under the blankets, pulling the package he hid earlier out of the dresser, handing it to Dustin.
Dustin sat up, crossing his legs, “Craig, you didn’t have to do this.”
Boone kneeled down, “Open it carefully.”
Dustin peeled the wrapping off, his whole face lighting up in realization. Photographs. Dustin thumbed through them, eyes welling up.
Months ago, Boone accompanied Dustin to visit Michelangelo (of sign crafting fame). He had photographed the two men together for some tests for a new batch of film. Boone must have gone back and gotten the prints from him.
“Craig, thank you, I don’t know what to say.”
“Thank you is fine.”
“I know that, but I wish I could tell you, I don’t know, more”, he gestured vaguely.
Dustin set the photos aside and crawled back under the blankets. Boone joined him, and Dustin settled into the crook of his arm, wrapping one of his arms around Boone.
“Don’t worry, I’ll accept thank yous in the payment of Sugar Bombs.”
“Why would you joke about that!?”
“Who said I was joking?”
“You would never!” Dustin’s tone was faux wounded, “You don’t even like Sugar Bombs all that much.”
Dustin kissed his cheek, snuggling in closer as the wind whipped outside.
“Why would I need Sugar Bombs? You’re sweet enough”, Boone whispered drowsily.
“You’re such a sap.”
“Only when I’m sleepy. Don’t tell anyone.”
“As your Christmas present, I’ll keep it a secret.”
“I know you’ve gotten me something, but I’ll take it”, Boone twisted so they lay face to face.
“You know me too well.”
“I know, and I love you”, Boone whispered, his lips soft against Dustin’s temple.
“I love you too”, Dustin whispered as they drifted off to sleep, carried by the sounds of a crackling fire and snow piling up outside.
hey, I upvoted your post on bnet about a trans character, but the amount of downvotes is disgustingly overwhelming, I started going through the comments but it was just, idk a lot. Can I add you btw? I'd love to have more trans guys to play ow with. Anyway, I hope you have a good day 🖤🖤🖤
please do!!! also i 100%am gonna be That Fucker on blizzard games I don’t give a shit
Pairings: Arcade/Boone
Summary: Prompt: “I'd love to see something of them as an established relationship and it's just them bantering as they're in the Lucky 38 or wandering around Freeside. These men deserve to have a nice day, and please take that in any direction you want.”
Word Count: 1,050
Rating: SFW
Warnings: none
Boone almost fell asleep again in the elevator but jolted awake again at the ‘ding!’ that let him know it had stopped at the cocktail lounge. He pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose to block out the rays of sun bombarding him from the too-big windows and took a quick look around before the smell of smoke drew him around to the side opposite from where the elevator had deposited him.
Arcade sat back propped against the arm of a sofa, stark contrast between the blood red of the upholstery, cornsilk blond waves pushed back from his forehead, and the off-white t-shirt and boxers he wore to bed. His knees were pulled up just enough for him to fit, book in one hand and cigarette in the other. A full minute passed with no sign of Arcade noticing him and so Boone quietly cleared his throat and asked, “Just up or still up?”
“Oh...couldn’t sleep last night. Just thought I’d get some reading in.” He tried to play off the start Boone had given him, having laid his book down across his lap with a little more force than necessary, and twisted back over the arm of the sofa to stub the cigarette out. “There’s still coffee in the machine if you’d like.”
It took a minute to prepare a cup, Boone silently lamenting that all the milk was gone, but he made do by filling a third of the cup with sugar and headed back. Arcade moved his book to the back of the sofa and his closest leg to the floor long enough for Boone to settle in, back pressed to the warmth of Arcade’s chest. Boone twisted around just enough glimpse the spine of the book.
“A Practical Guide to Power Armor?” he asked, brows arched just visible over the rims of his shades.
“Veronica found it,” Arcade said with a shrug. “I might as well read up on something immediately useful for a change.”
Boone snorted. “Veronica I get but I wouldn’t have taken you for the power armor type.”
“Ah, but little do you know: you can’t get your gay card until you’re able to fully operate a suit of power armor all by yourself, no cheating.”
“First off,” Boone started, gruff, pushing the glasses up onto his head to give Arcade a more direct and judging look. The hint of a smile at the corners of his eyes just barely gave him away. “I can’t believe I’ve been spending all this damn time with a man who doesn’t even have his gay card. Second, how the hell would you cheat?”
Arcade set the book down across the back of the sofa again. “In reverse: I’m only on chapter three, how the hell should I know? And where’s your card then, Mr. Paragon of the Law?”
“I’m not gay.”
“You mean to tell me there’s no Bisexual Committee out there waiting to take you in for operating without a license?”
“I mean to tell you--” The smile was tugging at the corners of Boone’s mouth now, and he tilted his head back as close to Arcade’s ear as he could get. “--they’ll never take me alive.”
“Is that so?” Arcade’s eyes crinkled at the corners and he turned his head just enough to brush his lips against Boone’s, free hand pulling him closer, palm curled against the softness of his stomach. The taste of hours-old coffee on Boone’s tongue offset the stale smoke and morning breath, but not enough to keep him from maneuvering to reach over Arcade and grab a cigarette for himself.
They stayed that way for a long while, Boone snugly pressed against Arcade’s chest smoking and Arcade reading silently save for the turning of brittle pages. Boone had turned himself so that he was less in the way of Arcade’s line of vision and he noticed how it seemed that Arcade would sometimes stop at one point or another on a page, eyes scanning the same spot over and over, committing to memory or grasping for full understanding. He felt a little less self-conscious of how slow his own reading could be, and when he finally spoke again he was long finished with his cigarette, and Arcade maybe half a chapter further in the book.
“You figure Hien might get back soon?”
Arcade closed the book this time and set it on the table behind him. “She and Cass went out to Nellis. I think it’ll be the end of the week before they make it back to the strip.”
“I need to get going soon then.” He started to push himself up and off the sofa, using Arcade’s thigh as leverage, but Arcade’s arm wrapped tighter around his waist.
“Big plans?”
“Not really,” he answered, ‘really’ punctuated by the shiver he got from Arcade’s stubble scratching at the back of his neck. “Lily asked if I’d pick her up some yarn and flour. Figured I’d ask Hien along if she was gonna be back soon but since she’s not I might as well get it done.”
“Isn’t that exceedingly kind of you?” Another kiss pressed to the back of Boone’s head and he considered staying right where he was all day, until the two of them fell asleep again or Veronica came to inform them of how lazy they were. He shrugged, face warm, and Arcade added, “I don’t think she’d mind if it takes a couple of days.”
“Nah, I said I’d do it and I’m gonna do it.” Boone finally pushed himself to sit on the edge of the couch, Arcade’s legs shifted to the back. “Don’t want her gettin’ stir crazy. Don’t know why she doesn’t wanna come along herself but I didn’t push it.”
“Well, if you’d like some company, I don’t have plans for the day aside from this book and maybe taking Rex out for a bit.”
Boone snorted. “Don’t know how you don’t lose your damn mind cooped up in here like that.”
“Each man delights in the work that suits him best.”
“Right....,” Boone stood to make room as Arcade pushed himself to sit upright as well. “Looks like clear weather out there though, gonna be fuckin’ scorching.”
Arcade rolled his eyes, stretching as he stood. “I’ll be sure to bring my parasol.”
