#tw past life

[venting-town]

Fuck white people

Fuck black people

Fuck yellow people

Fuck mixed people

Fuck angels

Fuck demons

Fuck spirits

Fuck healing

Fuck suffering

Fuck health

Fuck God

Fuck Lucifer

Fuck corrupt

Fuck holy

Fuck demonic

Fuck pure

Fuck chaos

Fuck love

Fuck hate

Fuck order

Fuck structure

Fuck cloth

Fuck forgiveness

Fuck grudge

Fuck static

Fuck change

Fuck you

Fuck pertain

Fuck object

Fuck subject

Fuck reject

Fuck accept

Fuck allow

Fuck deny

Fuck ignore

Fuck core

Fuck GaMe

Fuck cord

Fuck nerve(s

Fuck fairness

Fuck balance

Fuck advantage

Fuck take

Fuck give

Fuck you

Fuck them

Fuck same

Fuck difference

Fuck middle

Fuck opposite

Fuck similar

Fuck redo

Fuck undo

Fuck do

Fuck choice

Fuck

Fuck being

Fuck non being

Fuck spiritual

Fuck non spiritual

Fuck complex

Fuck simple

Fuck trust

Fuck broken

Fuck full

Fuck whole

Fuck betrayal

Fuck works

Fuck action

Fuck words

Fuck you retards

Fuck faggot ass fucking retarded ass faggots

Kill your fucking retarded ass selves

Fuck you retards

[shepscapades]

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [PART 6] [Part 7] [Don’t Let it Reach the Heart]

[This comic is part of my dbhc au, following the chaos and panic that ensues after Doc and Xisuma try to get Etho back online at the start of s9 after a very rough s8 finale that leaves him a little. broken. It's set to the vibes of Joywave's Destruction!]

[fcthots]

Can I request 27. "I'm going to carry you, okay?" with an angsty dash of 5. "You don't have anything to be sorry for." please?

You shouldn't have been out.

You should have never left your apartment, especially not in the middle of the night, especially when Jason didn't know you left, but you just wanted to go on a short walk, but one wrong turn turned your short walk into a very long one.

You could hear a few things: the beating of your heart, the sound of your feet hitting the ground as you ran, the sound of their feet running after you, shouting from behind you.

"Get your ass back here or I swear to God, we're gonna fucking kill you!"

Fuck. You just had to go on a walk to clear your head. You just had to get lost. You just had to forget your phone. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You were running so hard you could barely breathe. You were faster than them, but not by much, and you couldn't keep it up. You were terrified, shaking, slightly crying. You tried screaming, but no one came. You were lost, alone, scared, and being chased. You wished more than anything that you never left your apartment. You wished you just called Jason to calm down, but you didn’t want to bother him. Regret. Regret. Regret.

You've basically run in one big circle, trying to get anywhere near your apartment, but you were so lost. That street sign, though was familiar, but more than that you had passed it before; something else.

Oh.

Oh no.

You knew the name on that street sign because Jason was telling you about it earlier

...in reference to a trafficking case.

Your heart sank. Their footfalls match the erratic beating of your heart. You were tired. You couldn't keep this up forever and they knew the territory. It seemed you were at every disadvantage.

You turned a corner. You had this one chance to lose them. You use all of your remaining energy to run into the gap between the closed down corner store and apartment complex,

and promptly trip on the uneven concrete. Yeah, you pulled something.

And with your absolutely stellar luck, you picked the one alley that was a dead end.

"Fucking finally. Nowhere to run now. I think we should take our time with this one. She made us waste all that time chasing her, what's a little more?"

You open your mouth to beg for your life, but the words won't come out. You try to get up but you collapse again. You use your good leg to move yourself against the wall.

The three men laugh as they slowly approach you, taunting you. They smile and joke at the tears you didn’t notice were falling. You try to think of any possible escape route, but come up empty. One pulls out a gun and you try not to look at it.

"You really thought you could just run away, huh?"

"You can scream as loud as you want. No one is coming."

The third man laughs. "Don't say that. The screaming is fucking annoying."

They get closer to you and you feel the sweat trickle from your hairline.

Everyone's heads turn when there's a loud thud outside the alley.

You aren't exactly focused on it, but it makes them temporarily stop, so you're thankful for it.

"Marcus, go check it out."

"Fuck you. Why do I have to it?"

"Be louder, why don’t you? Quit being a bitch and go."

'Marcus' leaves with a string of curses. The attention is turned back to you again, with impatient smiles and twisted laughter, but not for long.

They make it about two more steps before Marcus yells and there's a crunch and thud.

The two men stop dead in their tracks. Communicating as if with eye contact, one nods, and the other begins to walk slowly along the wall of the alley with his gun raised until he turns the corner. While the first man tries to split his attention between you and his friend, his friend screams.

The last man turns towards you. He rushes forward in an attempt to grab your arm, presumably to drag you, but he never gets that chance.

There is a loud thunk to the back of the man's head before he's on the floor. You look up and see a red helmet.

You don’t think you've ever been happier to see that shiny red.

"Hey, it's ok. It's just me. I wasn't gonna let anything happen to you, I promise. You're safe now."

You try to say his name as he rushes over to you but it comes out as more of a pathetic and terrified whimper.

"Are you hurt?"

You nod your head and watch him freeze.

"Where?"

You drag your leg out from underneath you. He sighs in relief. His shoulders hunch forward, his forehead knocking against yours. He lands a helmet kiss there.

"C'mon. Let's get you home. I'm going to carry you, okay?"

Before you could even think about attempting to reply, he has you scooped up in his arms. He takes a deep breath in and out and locks eyes with you.

"You ok?"

"no fatal injuries"

He hums in acknowledgement. The walk is quiet. Too quiet. You don’t remember most of the walk. The adrenaline wearing off was making you tired, but Jason's silence concerned you. You shouldn't have gone out alone, it was dumb, but you couldn't handle a fight with Jason right now. That's probably why he was being quiet, he’s mad at you, but knows you don’t wanna fight. He was being so sweet, but to be honest all you wanted was comfort. You can't take him being distant right now.

Fuck it. You can't take it anymore.

"I'm sorry."

He stops on the outside of you apartment complex's elevator, moving to look at you.

You open your mouth to speak again but he cuts you off. "You don't have anything to be sorry for."

"Aren't you mad?"

"I could never be mad at you."

"But you're being all silent."

"I thought you'd want space. Do you not?"

"...no... I want comfort..."

"Alright. And I'm not mad at you. Never mad at you. That wasn't your fault, ok? I was brooding just now because I was scared at the thought of losing you. I love you. So much."

"I love you too."

[maggiecheungs]

What does one need to change the world?

JOY OF LIFE • 庆余年 • SEASON 2 ↳ AIRING 16 MAY 2024

[lostmf]

And I don’t think it’s a good thing ..

[wszczebrzyszynie]

i finally watched Grians pov + my friend asked me to draw my Grian eating a rat

(translation for the rat eating comic: 1. "Grian! I have some Amazing news!" // 2. "A-ah... am i interrupting?" // 3. (squeak) // 4. "Scaar ... hey...")

[layraket]

hai

i went crazy again

OK SO I HAVE THINGS TO SAY WITH THE LINK DRAWING.

i hc that whoever (prob Ganon) that controls his mind doesn't properly take care of his body, causing him to loss bodyweight from bad nutrition and his hair getting longer. They only need him alive to control his body, for a hero like him the minimun should be enough

anyways close-ups and speedpaint under the cut

alr goodnight

[ronkeyroo]

Hanging On ✄ - - - A Thread

[thisiswhereikeepdcthings]

In case someone out there has never encountered a goose, and is wondering if they really are that terrible, well…

…Yes. Yes they are.

[pfhwrittes]

have a tradie!141 thing that i wrote straight into my tumblr drafts to feel a rush of adrenaline.

tags/warnings: brief allusions to past transphobia (non explicit), food mention, smoking.

pairing: none

characters: kyle "gaz" garrick, john "soap" mactavish, simon "ghost" riley, john price, transmasc!reader.

summary: you're the new guy on site figuring out where you fit with your new work crew Tradie Force 141.

--

"not to be rude, but aren't you a bit old to be an apprentice?"

it's a phrase that's haunted you for the last year on every job site you've ever been on with your previous company. you're aware that you're at least 10 years older than the other apprentices on site at the best of times but there's no easy way to explain why you're such a late bloomer. not that you'll be spilling your guts to any of the blokes you work with. you'd learned that lesson early on.

you won't lie, you're a bit disappointed that even after joining Tradie Force 141 you're still getting asked that question so you flash a tight smile at the handsome plasterer - kyle - and mutter something about being a late bloomer around the mouthful of sandwich you're eating on your break.

"sorry mate, i don't mean it like that. 's just usually our apprentices are a bit younger than you. proper wet behind the ears y'know? can't find the business end of a trowel and all that." kyle explains before taking a slurp out of his mug of tea.

"aye, they're deid keen an' aw. practically jizz their wee pants when they see their first wage packet." johnny adds with a chuckle from where he's sprawled on one of the three uncomfortable chairs around the tiny table. "i know i definitely did when i was 16."

"mate, you still do!" kyle laughs "oi! mind my tea!"

you shake your head as kyle nimbly dodges johnny's poorly thrown empty bottle saving his tea from spilling on the grimy lino of the portakabin price had designated as the break room for the site.

"i'm gonna go see what price wants." you say after you swallow your last bite and chuck your rubbish in the bin next to you.

"aye, nae bother."

"see you in a bit mate."

you step out of the relative cool of the cabin and you pull your hi-vis over your shoulders so you can quite literally follow your nose to search out either price or simon where you know they'll be smoking near the site manager's office.

"reckon the lad needs a proper nickname, ye ken?" you hear johnny say before the door swings shut behind you. you try ignore the way your stomach lurches as you recall some of the more awful nicknames you'd endured before joining this crew as you cross the flattened dirt to join the pair huddled around a sand filled bucket.

"olright?"

simon's the first to greet you as price has his mobile jammed up to his ear and he's scowling at whatever the poor sod at the end of the phone is saying.

you nod in greeting and price rolls his eyes and mouths "twat" before humming briefly to show he's still listening to his phone call. simon offers you his half smoked cigarette and you shake your head to decline.

"suit y'self." simon says with a shrug before taking a last drag and flicking the still lit cigarette into the bucket of butts. "gonna take a slash." he announces before wandering around the corner of the portakabin that houses price's office.

you fiddle on your phone watching kyle's new tiktok he posted on the Tradie Force account while you wait for price to wrap up his phone call. it takes a few minutes before price's voice interrupts your endless scrolling, who knew reading all the thirsty comments would be so entertaining.

"need something?" price asks around a cigarette, his shrewd blue gaze watching as you scuff the toe of your steel toes on the ground.

"just want to know where you want me next." you shrug casually making sure to shove your phone back in the pocket of your trousers.

"is that right?" price sounds amused and you enjoy the way his eyes crinkle briefly before his phone starts ringing again and he groans. "fucks sake. go find simon while i take this, there's a good lad."

you nod at him and tamp down on a grin as you hear him answer with an exasperated "what now?! can't a man have a fucking cigarette in peace?!" as you turn away to start hunting down the resident plumber.

[venting-town]

Your love isn’t enough whether you”you” have good or bad or neutral or mixed days

Your abused ness or etc will never be enough

I don’t give a fuck if you’re a universe, world, Lucifer, God/Allah, Holy Spirit, Satan, Demon, Angel, Jesus Christ, Legion, Baal, Michael, etc

Fuck your retarded asses

And fuck your cores and spirits and etc

Fuck you for hidden fuck you for truth fuck you for lies fuck you for fake fuck you for memories fuck you for death fuck you for life fuck you for dreams fuck you retarded alien retarded ass bitches

You’ll be worse off rape fucking retards

Fuck your AI’s fuck your Musk for you Illuminati fuck your elders fuck your primals fuck your communities fuck your mobs fuck your gangs fuck your BZZZZZZZZZZ fuck your color fuck your shape fuck your size fuck your name fuck your death fuck your life fuck you neither fuck your both fuck your either fuck your faith fuck your confusion

Fuck all your good fuck all your bad fuck your one fuck your ones fuck your negative fuck you positive fuck your neutral fuck your loop fuck your cycle fuck your line fuck your rooms fuck your doors fuck your back fuck your forward fuck your rights fuck your wrongs fuck your spirit fuck your soul fuck you incarnation fuck your dark fuck your light fuck your shade fuck your color fuck your form fuck your connection fuck your connections fuck your attention fuck you retarded ass cunts

Retarded ass pussy ass retarded ass fucking retard cunts

Fuck you

[galaxygermdraws]

So like, I'ma be honest, I have spent the last 5 or 6 days doing nothing but binging Impulse's HC7 because I was feeling nostalgic and in a mood. And this alone was enough to convince me to juts. Sit down and draw even MORE of him. Deer has been enabling me to keep going, I have like. Less than 20 episodes back. I get through like 20 a day. I'm fine

(reblogs with tags/comments are appreciated. Thankyu)

[sleeplessv0id]

I don't believe in God. anymore

but I hope he loved me. at least once.

[even-disco-baby]

YOU — “No. There is still a chance.”

DOLORES DEI — “You think so?” Her voice is weary.

EMPATHY — Everything about her is weary. She is the Innocence of weariness, of heroically borne suffering.

CONCEPTUALIZATION — That is the picture you have painted for yourself, at any rate.

YOU — “You looked back. That’s the memory, the moment, that I can’t stop returning to. You looked back. I had a chance, for just that moment…”

DOLORES DEI — She meets your eye, gaze still forever cast back over her shoulder. Time stops. The stars are stilled, the ocean silent. There is *nothing* beyond this memory. Nothing at all. All of infinity is contained in this single moment when anything and everything was possible.

“Oh, Harry…” She sighs, soft as eiderdown. “We never had any chance.”

And just like that, the wave of time collapses under its own weight, obliterating everything. This moment was six years ago. She is gone from here. Gone, gone…

PAIN THRESHOLD — You cannot leave. There was nothing outside of this moment, and now there is nothing at all. It’s all gone. There is no point. I’m sorry. I can’t do this any longer.

VOLITION — Please, don’t say that…

“Okay. Well, fuck me, then.”

“How would *you* know?! You gave up! You didn’t even try!”

“We *must* have had a chance, at some point… Doesn’t everyone get a chance, if nothing more?”

“How could you say that…?”

DOLORES DEI — “Because it’s true,” she says, matter-of-fact. “There is no moment in time that you can turn back to, no branching paths, no infinity. There is only what happened. I looked back… and then away.” She closes her eyes, turning her back to you.

“The moment ended. *We* ended. That is all.”

SHIVERS — A wave crashes against an unseen shore, ocean spray tickling the back of your neck. You shiver, but no one shivers with you. You are alone in this intersection. Why are you here?

“Why can’t *I* end?! Why can’t this all just stop? Please, make it stop…”

“Ended? I’ve barely even started! I got a chance to start completely over as somebody new! I don’t need you anymore! You’re just dead weight to me now.”

“No. That wasn’t the real ending. We’re a part of something so much bigger than this intersection, telling a story that encapsulates all of history! There’s *more* to this, it *means* something.”

“Then… What am I supposed to do now…?”

DOLORES DEI — “No, Harry.” She turns back to you again now, and she looks… sad.

“We were not metaphors. We were people. Our narrative was not intelligently designed. It simply followed the patterns of history, because those are the only patterns we *know.* We tried to create something new, but we failed. There is no narrative reward for our failure, no satisfactory ending. There is only the immutable past and the unknowable future.”

RHETORIC — There is no assurance of what is good or deserved or what may bring relief. There is no assurance of punishment, either. There is no assurance of anything. Not even of a future. I don’t know what to say to make this bearable.

VOLITION — Even so… As long as you live, *something* is promised. Can you live with that?

I can’t, I just can’t do this anymore…

I can. It’s enough.

I don’t know. I just don’t know.

I can at least try for a little longer…

VOLITION — That’s all I ask. That’s enough.

[words-of-wolf]

Content warning: this post contains mentions of wolves hunting other animals, and some thoughts on the subject. Nothing I'd consider graphic, but I know it can be sensitive for some folks so I thought I'd warn beforehand!

Hhh, it's a bit hard to know where to start with getting back into writing about my experiences.

It's not that I don't have anything to say - it's the opposite! There's so much I'd like to share. I've always loved talking about my experiences... maybe a bit self-indulgent, but I like to think it can help other folks too, and I've gotten many interesting conversations out of it in the past, so no regrets!

Can't imagine I'll be posting big things like this frequently, but I'll happily answer questions and chat too. ^u^

So... right now, what I've decided I'd like to write about is some of the, I guess kinda fundamental aspects of my identity as a wolf therian.

It's interesting in a way, because there are so many wolves around - there's a lot of people to compare experiences against! I guess, if you have a rare kintype, or a kintype that's varied enough that your individual variation of it is rare (like dragons) - it might be hard to imagine that a wolf would struggle to find other people they relate to. But then, well: there's me.

I don't think anyone's nonhuman experiences are wrong. I don't think anyones' are "superior" either; it's just about who you are as an individual, what feels right and comfortable to you. I just wanted to get that across! Cause what I'd like to talk about does involve some comparison between my feelings and the things I've seen expressed by other wolf therians, and I wouldn't want it to be read as me saying my way of being as any better than anyone elses' (it's not).

During my time in the kin and therian communities (which, I first encountered over ten years ago now, but my activity has been very on-and-off since I reached adulthood) I've met so, so many wolf therians. It's... hmm, complicated for me, in a way? Because I felt very isolated, especially when I was younger, and I felt like wolf therians were supposed to be "my people". But really, I could count on both hands how many wolves I've met that I really related to on any level.

And the reason for that is the same now as it's always been: for a lot of wolf therians, being a wolf seems to be a kind of violent, bloodthirsty identity. The "predator" feeling is strong; there's some affinity for the thrill of the kill, the violence of it all.

That's not a bad thing. It's not wrong! But my experience has been... very different from that.

My perception of wolfhood isn't really "red in tooth and claw" like that. It's more... simple. Not peaceful really - life as a wolf is full of trials and strife - but the violence never felt defining for me. In terms of personal importance, the feelings of wanting to hunt, to fight, to bite and maim... I'd be lying if I said they were entirely absent, but they were always tertiary to things that seemed far more present and central.

I think a big part of that is... well, for context, I believe my wolf identity is linked to a past life. Yeah, stereotypical, I know! But it's genuinely what I experience; I do remember that life, or at least aspects of it. And those memories influence a lot of my experiences in my current life as a wolf-person.

The thing that strikes me most when I compare my own perspective on wolfhood to the ideas often expressed by other wolf therians, is that to me, hunting wasn't violence. It couldn't be violence.

Why? Because I just plain didn't realise that the deer and other animals we killed were living things.

There was no... room to even consider that idea. I didn't know that the deer I drove to exhaustion felt pain and terror, same as I did. I just knew I was hungry and it was food.

It's a strange thing to consider, isn't it? People talk a lot about "what makes us human". I don't think there's any one thing that does. But if I were to point to one of the most jarring, and one of the most utterly sacred parts of being human to me, it would be the ability to connect emotionally with other species.

Humans are not unique for doing that. And maybe there's some animals a wolf could come to see as an individual, in the way I would've seen another wolf. But a deer would never be that. Which contrasts strangely with me, now, as a human: where I can love pigs, and care about their welfare and treatment, but still enjoy some bacon or a porkchop. That can conflict, sometimes, yeah - but from a wolf perspective, that would be incomprehensible. At least, from my experiences it would be.

And if you remove the idea of violence from hunting, suddenly a wolf's life doesn't seem very violent at all. The act of hunting and killing prey animals felt no more violent to me, than when I cook up a steak for myself now. To someone, that would be violent, but to me it's just a steak - y'know? I know the steak comes from a cow, but that fact brings me neither grief nor pleasure. It's just kinda how the world is and I'm mostly okay with that.

The act of hunting was, I'd say, something I enjoyed as a wolf. I loved the chase. It was fun. Taking down prey could be scary; even a deer is dangerous when cornered and desperate. But the thing with nature is that it makes what you have to do to survive feel desirable: so risking my life for a meal felt thrilling, in a way, and a full belly afterwards was satisfying, and comforting, and a relief from the usual gnaw of hunger.

Hunting's only a small part of being a wolf, though. Even setting aside all the attempted hunts that fall through before you even get into a full sprint.

A lot of wolf life focuses on territory. In some places, it's a very intense, almost war-like conflict; constant, bloody, often fatal. Not always, though. It depends a lot on the intensity of the ecosystem you live in: a place with lots of prey attracts lots of wolves, who then compete for access. If the prey's more spread out, the wolves are more spread out too... and an area of land feels less worth dying for when you've got so many others to search.

Me and my pack were one of the latter varieties. Territorial conflicts were rare, for us; I don't recall any specifically. We patrolled, we marked our space. Territorial disputes were something I was aware of, I think - if I saw a trespasser I certainly would've acted with aggression - but it just wasn't a common occurrence.

So my experience of being a wolf didn't feel like it was defined by violence much. It didn't feel bloody and raw. I could see myself in the image of a wolf that snarls, maybe, but moreso I see myself in the image of the wolf that sleeps, or - perhaps most of all - the wolf that wanders.

And that's what existence as a wolf was, and is for me! It's wandering. It is the neverending search. Even when you find what you need, the relief can't last long - you need to move on soon, you need to seek again soon, because it won't be long before your empty belly's gnawing at your insides again. It wasn't ever a life of violence, it was a life of travel, for the good and the bad of it: for the new sights and new smells and new opportunities; for the exhaustion, the uncertainty, the sore paws and aching muscles.

And the restlessness. The need to keep moving. Keep going. Keep searching, always searching.

But, of course, that's still not the centre piece of the puzzle. Because that could only ever, of course, be the pack.

This is something I'll probably dedicate time to writing about all on its own, because I have such deep feelings about "the pack" as a concept, and also about my pack, who I lived for in my last life.

But I will say that all of my deepest, most vivid, and most impactful memories... they're not of the hunt, they're not about territory or conflict or hunger. What I remember most richly is the love I felt for my pack. It's a feeling I can't quite find it in me to explain; sometimes I wonder if the reason I identify as loveless in this life, is simply because no love I've ever felt as a human could compare to what I felt as a wolf.

I think there's a kind of synergy between the simple mind of a wolf, and the feelings a wolf experiences: in the quiet of an animal's mind, emotions seem so much stronger, so much more vivid somehow. I feel that even now, when I have a mental shift, and the logic and reason falls away - all that's left is emotion and physical senses, and they paint a picture so, so bright.

And those past life memories that I hold dearest, they have a similar quality to them... to curl up with my family after a long day of travel. Or listen to their happy snores as we all sleep off a full belly. And playing with the pups... I was a very fun wolf-uncle. And those pups were my joy, light of my whole life! <3

So... yeah. That's what being a wolf is to me.

It's not the only way to be a wolf. It's not the "right" was vs anyone else's "wrong". This is just what wolfhood is to me personally. Maybe other wolves will see something of themselves in this, maybe not! Either way, I appreciate the time you took to read my rambling. It feels nice to carve out a place in my life again where I can really talk about this stuff. c:

[dykedvonte]

what do you think Danse does to keep himself busy after blind betrayal, specifically if he's living in sanctuary? I just love your takes on him a lot haha

I think Danse is very lost in any settlement but especially Sanctuary. It was the first and very close-knit at that with the small group the Sole Survivor founded it with. Each time they would invite a new companion to live there it was like adding a pillar to the community and represented what the Minute Men stood for when it came ot uniting and protecting the commonwealth as one. I am not going to say it's cliquey, in fact I feel like SoSu and Preston/Sturges would go out of their way to make newcomers feel welcome but for Danse that is very different.

He (from my playthrough experience) is one of the later companions. I ran around a lot and got a good portion of the companions and their quest before act one was done. He is also one of the few companions who openly thinks lowly of life in the commonwealth and certain citizens (if not all citizens to an extent). He did not introduce himself to Sanctuary to make friends or roots. So when he gets stuck there under the SoSu's "orders" (not letting him rot in sorrow in some random bunker) he doesn't have any comfort or companionship, in fact, I think he has more tensions and beef tbh.

I imagine the first weeks or even a month or two were rough. I don't think it is stated enough that like Danse went to that bunker intending to follow Brotherhood protocols and kill himself. SoSu may have convinced him not to in the moment but with someone like Danse, so rigid and stuck in an ideology even after it spits in his face, it's not unlikely he has a weird guilt about being alive at first. It doesn't help that I know in my heart that a few of the more petty or insensitive companions or settlers would tease him about it (playful meanness) thinking he was adjusting well (or not caring) to the Sanctuary life and coming to terms with his identity. Sometimes they go too far and it's easy to tell he's gotten back into the headspace, looking at his reflection, trying to remember concrete dates for his memories, etc..

I have this head canon that SoSu recognized this pattern as they had to have immense survivor's guilt (especially after being in Kellogs brain) about surviving the vault. They had the same idea about making things "fair" for the other vault dwellers and Shaun was the only thing between them and those thoughts for a while. For the first weeks it was a lot of SoSu monitoring him and making sure he was adjusting and not falling back into that thinking, y'know the whole "I am a disgrace and abomination against the Brotherhood and humanity. The only thing I can do to no longer sully the honor of either is to kill mys-" Like stopping that with minor distractions.

It would be a lot of small work and building projects and patrols for lost scavengers or to make sure no one is stalking the place. It's nice for him for a while, he's getting social interaction and he's not dead in the eyes of at least one Brotherhood member, especially one of as high rank as the SoSu. But it's also really unhealthy. Danse was trained and raised in a militaristic pseudo-religious faction. As much as there seemed to be casualness towards comrades there was a strict structure and order. He shoves the SoSu into that role and probably gets nick-named as their shadow during this period.

They are his only goal as he has nothing else and it shows bad. The rest of the settlement notices he trails after them and only really does his own thing when it's part of a task he was doing for, with or assigned by the Sole survivor. It's not an obsession with them specifically but he has lost his entire understanding of life and this is the one thing that stayed concrete. He does what he's asked of because following the Sole survivor has at least kept him belonging somewhere and why mess that up?

I am sure SoSu is not oblivious and is actively trying to figure out how to get Danse to start socializing and trying to actually settle into the community but for the time being Danse would treat himself like the machine he perceives himself as; Overworking himself as he believes machines don't need the same amount of rest, isolating himself and mostly trying to not have a mental breakdown every time he get into the power armor that is very much not his issued Brotherhood of Steel tech. He openly does this in respect of the General who hates it and makes everyone else uncomfortable.

this was very long just to say I think Danse just works himself to the bone all day and purposely puts thoughts in his already fragile psyche that everyone hates him and only tolerates his presence to not seem Synth-phobic and the Sole survivor's favor.