I'm okay with that though, because the ladies actually tell me that all the time. ;D
I think I'm filling like three different prompts at once with it (does EVERYONE have a fetish for Three Dog having sex mid-broadcast? I mean I do for SURE, but I'm just curious), and yet I found a similar even more hilarious version of the prompt for M!LW and Three Dog receiving the righteous dicking to end all dickings, so I might have to fill that too. Because Three Dog is my favorite.
Please check the end for Author's Notes.
Summary: That crazy kid from Vault 101 went and grew up when Three Dog wasn't looking. Tags: F!LW/Three Dog; Dogmeat; hurt/comfort; humor; fluff; het
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"Good news out of Little Lamplight, children! A band of Brotherhood Outcasts got wind of a hefty stockpile of energy weapons locked up tight by the local kids -- yeah, yeah, story doesn't start as good news, but bear with me." Sliding the report in front of him to double-check the notes he's read twice already, Three Dog pauses to take a drag off his cigarette and flick the growing column of ash off. It hits the edge of the ashtray and falls off the wrong way entirely onto his cluttered desk, but he neither notices nor cares - once the little pile of wayward ash starts finding its way smeared across the myriad sheafs of paper he's always got rolling in, he'll just sweep it off the desk to the floor anyway. No skin off his nose, though Margaret will probably grouse about the mess. What's a guy to do?
"Never guess who unloaded all the weapons and ammo on the little misfits in the first place, right? Haaaa, anyway. The forsaken fellows in fearsome fuliginous armor --" good word, he decides, though he had to rifle through about a half dozen pre-war dictionaries to find one with an 'F' section intact enough to give him the right word to complete the alliteration, "-- thought they'd commandeer the kids' supply, by force if necessary. Turns out force was necessary -- but with Mayor Macready and his crackshot team of laser-wielding Lamplighters on watch, the Outcasts just didn't have enough force to seal the deal, and were seen turning tail not long later with scorch marks on their behinds that made the rest of them look downright cheery. Our informant reports that although a few of the kids did receive some serious boo-boos in the standoff, there were no quote 'fatawities.'"
He grins, a smile clearly audible in the echo of his amused voice across the Wasteland. "Just goes to show, big or small, you can level any playing field - literally level it - with plenty of guts and guns. Kudos, kids. Show those bullies the first time, nine times out of ten they won't be coming back for more. And hey, that one other time... well we all know you'll be ready, won't you? Hahaha."
Three Dog pushes the sheet off to the side, taking another drag. The cigarette's begun to burn down to the filter, but despite his cozy digs and easier access to little luxuries thanks to the Brotherhood in recent years, old habits die hard; he sucks every last precious whiff of smoke he can get out of the thing before conceding just short of getting a lungful of acrid burnt plastic. Grinding the last embers out in the ashtray, he rifles briefly through the papers before him to get to a short but sweet bit of good news he found earlier this morning and has so far saved for last. The story of the Little Lamplighters and their stockpile provided the perfect segue, and he drums out an anticipation-building rhythm on the hard plastic of the desk just in front of the microphone.
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timeasmymeasure
Since When, 1a/3
Date: 2012-06-18 06:42 pm (UTC)I'm okay with that though, because the ladies actually tell me that all the time. ;D
I think I'm filling like three different prompts at once with it (does EVERYONE have a fetish for Three Dog having sex mid-broadcast? I mean I do for SURE, but I'm just curious), and yet I found a similar even more hilarious version of the prompt for M!LW and Three Dog receiving the righteous dicking to end all dickings, so I might have to fill that too. Because Three Dog is my favorite.
Please check the end for Author's Notes.
Summary: That crazy kid from Vault 101 went and grew up when Three Dog wasn't looking.
Tags: F!LW/Three Dog; Dogmeat; hurt/comfort; humor; fluff; het
-----
"Good news out of Little Lamplight, children! A band of Brotherhood Outcasts got wind of a hefty stockpile of energy weapons locked up tight by the local kids -- yeah, yeah, story doesn't start as good news, but bear with me." Sliding the report in front of him to double-check the notes he's read twice already, Three Dog pauses to take a drag off his cigarette and flick the growing column of ash off. It hits the edge of the ashtray and falls off the wrong way entirely onto his cluttered desk, but he neither notices nor cares - once the little pile of wayward ash starts finding its way smeared across the myriad sheafs of paper he's always got rolling in, he'll just sweep it off the desk to the floor anyway. No skin off his nose, though Margaret will probably grouse about the mess. What's a guy to do?
"Never guess who unloaded all the weapons and ammo on the little misfits in the first place, right? Haaaa, anyway. The forsaken fellows in fearsome fuliginous armor --" good word, he decides, though he had to rifle through about a half dozen pre-war dictionaries to find one with an 'F' section intact enough to give him the right word to complete the alliteration, "-- thought they'd commandeer the kids' supply, by force if necessary. Turns out force was necessary -- but with Mayor Macready and his crackshot team of laser-wielding Lamplighters on watch, the Outcasts just didn't have enough force to seal the deal, and were seen turning tail not long later with scorch marks on their behinds that made the rest of them look downright cheery. Our informant reports that although a few of the kids did receive some serious boo-boos in the standoff, there were no quote 'fatawities.'"
He grins, a smile clearly audible in the echo of his amused voice across the Wasteland. "Just goes to show, big or small, you can level any playing field - literally level it - with plenty of guts and guns.
Kudos, kids. Show those bullies the first time, nine times out of ten they won't be coming back for more. And hey, that one other time... well we all know you'll be ready, won't you? Hahaha."
Three Dog pushes the sheet off to the side, taking another drag. The cigarette's begun to burn down to the filter, but despite his cozy digs and easier access to little luxuries thanks to the Brotherhood in recent years, old habits die hard; he sucks every last precious whiff of smoke he can get out of the thing before conceding just short of getting a lungful of acrid burnt plastic. Grinding the last embers out in the ashtray, he rifles briefly through the papers before him to get to a short but sweet bit of good news he found earlier this morning and has so far saved for last. The story of the Little Lamplighters and their stockpile provided the perfect segue, and he drums out an anticipation-building rhythm on the hard plastic of the desk just in front of the microphone.