#tobin grant

[radiationgroove]

Steel Reign Initiate squad with @digitalduckie

[radiationgroove]

Someone to Lean On

Enjoy? I have a ko-fi!

It’s the middle of the night when Beckett lurches upright in bed. At least, he thinks it’s the middle of the night. He can’t tell the difference between eleven at night or four in the morning anymore; it’s dark outside and Tobin is snoring quietly and hogging the blankets. Beckett’s not used to sleeping soundly; he remembers being wired all the time before. It felt like he went days without sleep. Tobin spent twenty-five years safe underground, his most formative, and still manages to sleep in the Appalachian wasteland.

It’s not until Beckett’s feet touch the floor that Tobin stirs. The bedsprings creak and Beckett’s side of the bed is suddenly emptier than it was before. Tobin hums, rubs his eyes and hefts himself upright. He’s all bedhead and sleepy eyes. Outside, the wind rushes through the trees. They sleep with the shutters thrown open; the nights are growing cooler and Tobin is a furnace. Moonlight mottles the room through the leaves.

“Beck?” Beckett will never tire of that, how the nickname sounds when sleep clings to Tobin’s voice. “Somethin’ wrong?”

Beckett shakes his head, then remembers that it’s dark and Tobin’s glasses are still on the nightstand. “Nah, nothin’s wrong,” his voice is hushed. Tobin’s arms slip around his chest. “Can’t settle down. My brain won’t...won’t turn off. I keep thinkin’ about...about...”

“Frankie?”

“Yeah...yeah, Frankie.”

His little brother’s face haunts his dreams, wild-eyed and smeared in greasepaint. Tobin’s chin settles on his shoulder. The grin stretched across Frankie’s face becomes less and less human the longer Beckett stares. Frankie’s voice even permeates his head. Beckett laces his fingers through Tobin’s and squeezes. Every word is a cackle, sickeningly so, and unlike the Frankie he loved. Frankie leans into the shotgun. Gunshot. It always ends in a gunshot. Beckett’s shoulders shake. Tobin’s arms tighten. Beckett cries for his brother and Tobin holds him. He wants to scream until his throat bleeds and his voice is shot and hoarse. Instead, Beckett cries. 

Minutes tick by. Hours, Beckett thinks. Just minutes. 

Tobin doesn’t move until Beckett is quiet and still again. Tears still stream down his face, that hasn’t stopped, but he’s calmer than he was. Beckett sighs and pulls his hand from Tobin’s to wipe his cheeks. Soft kisses are pressed to the back of his shoulder and Tobin buries his face in Beckett’s neck. He’s infinitely thankful for Tobin; not only did he save Beckett from the Blood Eagles at the Rollins camp, but the feelings that bubbled up from both of them was one step in saving Beckett from himself. He’s grateful that coming-of-age in Vault 76 allowed Tobin to remain soft. Not weak. Not by a long shot. Not after what happened with Frankie in the Watoga Underground would he ever call Tobin ‘weak.’

“Thanks, Tobin for, ah,” Beckett sniffles, “…for stayin’ up with me.” He twists to awkwardly place a kiss on Tobin’s forehead. “ ‘m sorry that I woke you.”

Tobin shrugs and stifles a yawn with the back of his hand. Beckett can tell he’s smiling, a sleepy thing. “Don’t be. I don’t mind.” 

Beckett leans back into Tobin and closest his eyes 

[radiationgroove]

Mucked around with artbreeder for a little bit. Wound up with Tobin (top) and Eli (bottom, Mac and Steph’s son in some cases). 

Funny how Eli lead to Tobin in a weird way.

EDITED to add Vivian~

[radiationgroove]

[radiationgroove]

Mischief Night

So I know Halloween and the Mischief Night event is over, but I couldn’t help write Tobin being...well...Tobin.      A car exploded to his left. A robot exploded to his right. Chaos reigned all around him, urged on by this...this floating harbinger of madness. Tobin's fellow Vault Dwellers lit bonfires on the Whitespring’s grounds, scorching the manicured lawn. Whitespring security, pristine white, swarmed the group in groves, firing on the mischief makers in defense of their property. The Eyebot responsible for all this, JES-2R, floated by. Best to stay close, Tobin decided, and snuck along behind. 

“Come with me! We’re going to make some” JES-2R crackled, “abject chaos. Activities such as arson, vandalism, and murder-”

Up the hill, they rounded upon the cottages. Somehow buckets of paint sat ready and waiting for them; Tobin took it upon himself to paint a hasty icon dedicated to the Mothman. An assaultron chugged past him; his ladder wobbled. 

“Maintain situational awareness. The grounds are not secure.”

Tobin kept close to the cottages, occasionally pressing his hand against the dormant keypads and taking candy cautiously from the bowls outside. Twice the bowls beeped a warning and he had to scramble to escape the mines that erupted. He found safety by JES-2R again, hovering beside a pyre. 

JES-2R bobbed closer. “It’s another chilling reminder, dear listeners, to,” static hissed again, and the voice whined, “try harder! Can’t you do any better?” The bot would have stamped a foot if it had any.

Tobin whimpered and clutched his rifle closer. Self-preservation was the most basic of instincts. What more could he do without the fear of lasers or robots?

He kicked over a traffic cone. 

Anarchy.

The eyebot seemed satisfied, and moved on towards the Whitesprings carefully tended garden ahead of the former residents of Vault 76.

[radiationgroove]

[radiationgroove]

Tobin & Co made a new friend!

feat. Jacob ( @mininuked) and Leo ( @notactuallyaduck), the Pied Piper and peace.

[radiationgroove]

Ahhh, West Virginia.

Just some of the nonsense involved in Fallout 76. Water park squad goals, photo ops, music with strangers, ritual sacrifice...Yannow. The usual. 

Feat @mininuked @notactuallyaduck @hakbot