#Moriarty’s Saloon

[falloutconfessions]

“I bought whiskey from a ghoul cause I felt sorry for him but then I sold him a bunch of shit junk to take all his caps including the ones I give him for the whiskey.”

Fallout Confessions

[nooklingposting]

Gob and Marcie

On the rare occasions Moriarty leaves the Saloon, Marcie shows Gob how they used to dance in the Vault.

Trying some new styles again! Really like how this one’s turned out.

[unholycourier]

wandering megaton like a lost puppy because i am, in fact, very lost

[cannibalcreeps]

thoughts on g9b because honestly he... he made me buy fallout 3 I needed to save him

Gob is a babe and I will always blast Moriarty into teeny-tiny pieces of fleshy garbage just so my man can finally have some peace and freedom. I really wish I could take him away from Megaton tho, and have him go home to Underworld where he belongs and will be loved, Nova and Sara Silver can own the Saloon together, since the previous owner would have mysteriously turned into green goop.

He's such a sweetheart 💖

[thefalloutwiki]

Fallout 76: Gob's Saloon

Were you previously aware that a moment in the Atlantic City trailer for Fallout 76 shows the text, “Gob's Saloon.”

In Fallout 3, killing Colin Moriarty would result in Gob taking over his saloon and painting over the sign with “Gob's Saloon.”

You can read more about Gob here:

https://fallout.wiki/wiki/Gob

[pillow-anime-talk]

make out session with albert.

request: hello there! could i maybe request albert moriarty with a male reader getting caught in a make out session by his brothers or moran? it’s alright if it gn reader too tho- if you don’t write x male reader

# tags: scenario; secret current relationship; hot romance; fluff; a bit of comedy; wet kisses; suggestive

includes: male reader ft. albert james moriarty & sebastian moran in the background {kny}

author’s note: sorry, anonnie, that you waited so long :( and ofc, i also write for male readers!

It was a very quiet night; though the sky was dark and full of stars, it was one of the warmer nights of that terrible March. You and Albert were at your favorite cafe that day, like every Friday. Your weekly meetings have become something of a tradition since you started dating. Although at the beginning your relationship was purely friendly and without major obligations, you have been in a full-fledged partnership for three months, not only in a relationship existing out of human curiosity.

Until now, you’ve spent Fridays and Saturdays at your apartment if the opportunity arose, but tonight, due to bad weather, Albert took you to his house, which was much nearer than your small place in the middle of the city.

“Would you like something to eat or drink?” The man asked as soon as you crossed the threshold of the great house (or rather villa) of the Moriarty brothers.

“Well...” You looked at him with a slight smirk as you took off your shoes. “Since you’re asking...” You added cheerfully, hanging your brown coat on the hanger.

“Then I’ll suggest a ham and vegetable sandwich or a cheese and tomato omelette.” He also responded by taking off his outer clothes and shoes, and then together with you he went to the saloon, and next to another, slightly smaller room. “I can also make fried fish or eggs benedict.”

“Omelette sounds very delicious.” You admitted smiling slightly and your partner nodded.

“So go to my bedroom and get some clean clothes, then come back to me. We will eat supper together and drink some hot tea with honey.” He instructed you and you nodded this time. However, before you went to the dark-haired man’s bedroom, you approached him for a short while, snuggling into his rain-scented body and clothes. A few seconds later you looked into each other’s shiny eyes and connected your lips in a light but long kiss.

The tenderness you showed each other very quickly turned into a lustful act; Albert’s hands were on your hips and you wrapped your arms around his warm neck, pulling him even closer to you. You just wanted to get into his skin and feel its pleasant softness and taste. 

The kitchen got warmer, and a drop of saliva ran down your chin. For almost half a minute, you didn’t break even an inch from each other, all the time touching each other’s bodies and faces, as well as hands and hair.

Only after a while (which for you was a pleasant eternity) did you both hear a light cough combined with laughter and you immediately turned to the source of the noise. Your cheeks blushed almost immediately, and your eyes turned to the painting hanging on the wall, showing a woman in a green meadow.

“...It’s okay, I only came for water and an apple.” Sebastian laughed once again as he walked towards the small refrigerator. Albert forgot that both his younger brothers and also Sebastian with Fred were at home for the weekend. “Albert, I didn’t expect this from you, but don’t worry. I’ve had plenty of experience with men too, though not as hot as yours. Remember about the long foreplay so that it doesn’t hurt. Have a nice night, guys.”

After a short monologue of the black-haired man, you both awkwardly scratched your head or chin.

“I’ll just go to the bedroom...”

“... Maybe... Let’s skip our supper. I’ll make us breakfast tomorrow morning...” Your lover whispered and you nodded.

“Good idea.”

[forthegothicheroine]

Why is Colin Moriarty Irish? Did he travel across the sea in the post-apocalyptic world to get to this crappy stretch of wasteland? Is the accent a fake to help sell his saloon? Is there a stereotype of Irish saloon keepers in the ruins of Washington DC? Have I wandered into It's Always Sunny in the Capital Wasteland?

[tacticalhimbo]

Hello hello @floodl8 ! I'm here to deliver you a gift for this year’s Celebradiation exchange, hosted by the amazing team at @falloutfandomeventhub !

Sorry to come in so late, but you know what they say! Anyway, I had a lot of fun reading over your Christmas-themed comic and learning about Maya's relationship with Charon (as well as seeing her passion for robotics in her other tag content)!

I took some liberties with this piece, and I hope you enjoy <3

Also, let me know if you’d like a more permanent copy of this, too! I’m always happy to provide a PDF version of the writings I do :3

East Coast summers were a lot different than they'd used to be—and much different from the controlled, homeostatic environment of Vault 101. While there had been enough years between that fateful day in October 2077 and now for the extreme fluctuations to plateau, there was still something warmer about the summers. Something stifling. Enough for many of Megaton's residents to keep indoors best they could, while remaining true to their routines. The world didn't stop then; there was no reason for it to stop now.

Moira was one of those individuals who found themselves wandering around the rickety walkways to the town, yelping softly when her exposed arm brushed against the scorching railing. Pouty lips grew more prominent as she rubbed at the pinkened flesh, nose scrunching as the pain subsided quick as it'd appeared. Vibrant red hair was tied back into a neat ponytail, same as it always was, though almost tighter to ensure no loose strands found themselves on her neck. Her jumpsuit was unzipped, the upper portion tied and tucked around her waist to expose freckled shoulders to the unrelenting sun. She stepped away from the railing to avoid repeating her fate, only to find herself nearly bumping into—

"Oh! Hey there Maya!" Her pout quickly turned into a beaming smile. One that almost competed with the great star in the sky. "How are things? Any new and exciting projects on the docket?"

In a world that seemed against Maya every step of the way, Moira was one of the few out there who made it feel a little more like home. Sure, there was Butch who had accompanied her out into the unforgiving wastes with that same passionate—or perhaps naive—spark in his eyes. And sure, there was Charon, who had initially joined Maya's adventures out of obligation, but found himself oddly curious about her. But that was different. They'd come willingly, traversed outside the rusted metal walls with her and faced the cruel, cruel world head on. But Moira? Moira stayed put. Stayed cozy and waited to see that familiar blue suit and nearly-fiery hair bobbing and weaving through the day crowd. Eagerly awaited the trio's shopping trips to hear all about the wild shenanigans they'd found themselves involved with. It was comforting.

It was homely.

Maya couldn't help the smile that crept up on her heat-exhausted features, nor the spark that'd ignited in her brown eyes.

"Well, after you gave me that new energy cell, I figured out what was wrong with the Protectron. Turns out the area around the contacts was shot, so I tinkered with it a bit and got it to stick. Still, better to make sure it was juiced up."

"That's just great! Say—I was just headin' back to my shop, I found something else you might like. C'mon!"

Before Maya could speak, Moira had already turned heel and happily skipped along, idly chatting about this and that as if the other were already in tow. For a moment, she talked to herself, but Maya was quick to join by her side. Anything to get out of this miserable heat. Plus, the extra company was nice! With Butch doing… whatever it was Butch found himself up to, and Charon wandering up to Moriarty's Saloon to pick up on any potential leads, it was lonely back at the humble little abode sat atop its creaking stilts. Besides, the prospect of getting a new toy couldn't help but make the inventor feel a little giddy. She'd seen enough of Maya's projects, both complete and otherwise, to know just what to fish around the stockroom for. Today was no different, as upon entering the general store, Moira gave a perky little 'just a second!' as she dipped behind the desk and sifted through some boxes. Now where was it…

Was this?—Nope, that wasn't right. Nor was the dulled knife felt her knuckle scrape against. Ouch! Was that rusted? Oh, she hoped it wasn't. That would sure be a pain to deal with, and would mean a trip to see Doc Church. Now that was a scary thought. One that made Moira almost instinctively pop her head over the counter to glance around and ensure he didn't manifest before her. He had a habit of that, or perhaps it was known she was the town klutz. Either way, she beamed when she saw Maya patiently waiting. That's right, she was looking for…

"Here it is! Sorry about the wait, haven't exactly cleaned through the new stock yet. With more people coming in and out of the town now that that Vault of yours opened up, it's just so hard to keep up! Anyway—" A slender hand coyly waved about a mess of wires. Nestled beneath it all was a sturdy processor, reinforced and clearly meant for a bot much bigger than either were used to working on.

Maya tilted her head. "What is that from?"

"Oh… I don't know exactly." Moira set it down on the counter, eagerly watching as the Vault Dweller found herself taking it to examine closely. "The fella who brought it in said it was some RobCo processor widget."

"RobCo? There's a factory somewhere nearby, right?"

"Bingo! Anyway, he said that supposedly, if you connect it to the factory's mainframe, you get access to an army of robots! Can you imagine?" Moira laughed enthusiastically, pitch bordering squealing, as she imagined the possibilities. They could turn the factory into its own settlement, or bring this robot army back to Megaton to help bolster protection, or—

"Or get yourself killed."

The voice that'd interjected was raspy; signature. There was only one person in this little town that spoke so succinctly and with a perpetual air of annoyance. Though, in reality, it was only slightly so. Almost half so—He just wanted things to be quick, simple, and painless as possible. Charon folded his arms as he remained by the shop's exit, shaking his head and nodding to Maya. She beamed back at him.

"Tell everyone about that processor?"

Moira tilted her head. "Hm… Nope, just Maya. And now you. And then of course the shop guard here saw the whole transaction—"

"Alright, I get it. Factory's bad news. People go in, nobody comes out. It's dangerous."

"Aw, come on Charon—" Maya set the processor down on the counter and stepped over, rocking on her feet as she thought it over. Yeah, it may have been dangerous, but… "We've dealt with a lot worse than a couple of robots! Besides, all those buildings have deactivation terminals! We go in there, you and Butch cover while I dip to deactivate each level, and we can get to the mainframe easy."

The ghoul's eyes narrowed, arms folding across his chest. He hated to admit it, but she did have a solid plan. Even if it meant it was his ass getting burnt to (even more of) a crisp by the bots' weapons. "… Fine. Get the piece and go find Butch. Or don't. I'll be back home when you're ready."

"Sweet!" Happy arms threw themselves over the man's physique, pulling him into an enthused hug as he'd raised his own in surprise. He grumbled under his breath and reached to lightly pat her back, a subtle smile forming on his worn features. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

Enough for Moira to see and excitedly shimmy her shoulders as she bit back the urge to comment on her little lovebirds in the making.

Was it an adventure he wanted to partake in? Not particularly. But was it one that he'd go on without question? Well, he had his questions, but he kept them to himself if it meant making sure Maya was safe… and seeing her happy. Poor girl needed it now more than ever; it was what she deserved, and even he found it in his calloused heart to admit that.

[thornfield13713]

Ten Maris headcanons, go

Her favourite song on the radio is 'I'm Tickled Pink' by Jack Shaindlin. She hums it a lot when she's deeply absorbed in whatever she's doing, and sometimes sings it under her breath.

Due to having lived her whole life in a Vault suit, she's most comfortable in jumpsuit-like clothing - mechanic's coveralls end up as her clothing of choice, and after a while she gets into the habit of decorating them with appliques, embroidery and so on, getting more elaborate the more she learns.

She learned how to sew from Old Lady Palmer as a child in the Vault, because being able to make things was, Old Lady Palmer always said, a very good thing in a Vault where you could never buy anyone a present, but you could make or scavenge things. Jonas, Amata and James - to say nothing of Old Lady Palmer herself - were all the beneficiaries of Maris's early experiments in sewing. And, later on, already knowing how to sew was a great benefit to her medical training.

She has a real soft spot for Arthur Maxson, whom she first met as a child of ten, and whom she used to drop in on every time she passed through the Citadel, bringing him little treats and souvenirs and generally treating him like a cross between the little brother she never had and a favourite nephew. It was this fondness that ended up blinding her to the sort of man he was becoming until it was too late, resulting in her being forced to flee the Capital Wasteland in the face of charges of betraying the Brotherhood.

She is bad at saying no to people, and actually rather admires how ready Charon is to do it. He has literally had his free will stripped away from him, but still does all he can to keep his ability to resist and disobey, while she has her free will, but has so much trouble telling someone 'no' directly without dancing around the point.

She is deeply, deeply paranoid about disease. Having grown up in a Vault, her immune system is pretty much shot, and so she takes every precaution she can to minimise her exposure as far as she can while still practicing as a doctor. Even this has not been enough on a few occasions, and when she's ill it tends to be the sort of illness that leaves her bed-bound and delirious for days rather than the sort she can work through.

She is deeply afraid of failing or disappointing people. Disappointing people in particular. And so she will do nearly anything to avoid doing so, particularly if the person in question is someone she cares for and whose opinion she values.

Colin Moriarty was the first person she ever killed when it wasn't her or them, and if she hadn't had experience killing raiders during the research for the Wasteland Survival Guide, she probably wouldn't have been able to pull the trigger on him. It was a panicked, instinctual thing, and she felt guilty about it for a long time...right up until she returned to Megaton, and found the saloon repainted with Gob's name, Gob and Nova free and happy and swearing before Sheriff Simms that Maris had only shot Moriarty because he attempted to assault her, but unfortunately everyone reacted so quickly that she was forced to flee before she could give her side of the story. All three of them know it for a damned lie, and probably Simms does too, but Moriarty was not a man anyone would question such a story about.

It took a while to get used to non-processed food. Maris has a lot of tactile sensitivities, and she's grown up in a Vault, where the rations are very, very processed indeed. Her first time eating something that wasn't it took real effort to make herself swallow it - she couldn't get used to the texture or the taste, and it was a battle between her instincts and her manners the whole time. She probably wouldn't have finished it if she weren't desperately hungry, and if Jenny Stahl hadn't been standing there, having just sold Maris a brahmin steak that she was now expected to eat, and which wasn't very much like Salisbury steak after all, and Maris would literally rather die than give offence in that situation.

She has a real weakness for pre-war fantasy. Grognak was her favourite comic in the Vault for a reason, and she can't really get invested in most things set in the world that really does - or did - exist. She already knows how all of those stories ended. But stories about other worlds are new, and those can end in all sorts of different ways that this one didn't.

[sleepycatofshimano]

East of the Sun, West of the Moon

Hello! As mentioned in the author's note in the link above, I have been more-or-less chronically reading Cooper Howard | The Ghoul/Reader fan-fiction, and have finally decided to bite that damned, silver bullet and write a story of my own.

Of course, this is only the first chapter of many, but I intend on seeing this narrative through to its bittersweet end; as such, reading this grand, epic, and weird adventure, featuring you, a Megaton settler, and the one-and-only Cooper Howard, would mean the absolute world to me... As quoted by the silly, little rad-man himself, 'I do this shit for the love of the game.'

Any and all information about the story (as well as an excerpt) can be found below! <3

fandom ➳ Fallout (TV 2024), Fallout 3

word count ➳ 5,056

warnings & tags ➳ Cooper Howard | The Ghoul/Reader, Cooper Howard | The Ghoul/You, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Swearing, Alcohol, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Consensual Sex, Prostitution, Sexual Assault, Fluff and Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Tragedy, Public Sex, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Age Difference, Sexual Tension, Poverty, Teasing, Getting to Know Each Other, Ghoul Grinding, The Ghoul is His Own Warning, Nuka Cola Abuse, The Ghoul Acquires a Travelling Companion (follow link for more tags)

summary ➳ Shady Sands. You were told there would be someone waiting for you there. Of course, this was many years ago---far before you'd stumbled across Megaton, a small, dead-end settlement holding zero shame for their new way of life. In 2277, though, your nights are occupied entertaining the patrons of Moriarty's Saloon, constantly striving to earn enough caps to finally plan a safe way---the safest way one could possibly muster in the Wasteland---out of Megaton.

But on one of the many nights you spend downing Nuka Cola as though it were pre-War water, a strange man waltzes into Moriarty's Saloon. Growing up, you always knew mutants were dangerous, but your best friend just so-happens to be one; the bartender who works at the saloon, day in and day out, Gob the Ghoul. So, when you are faced with another one of his kind, clearly tired and parched, you find it hard to break your own promise to yourself: to never become a Ghoul-fucker.

Desperate and in need of caps, however, you find yourself in the most peculiar situation... A way out of Megaton, in lieu of a single, earned cap through your services: A loudmouthed Ghoul, a chilling bounty, and a pre-War device that may yet know the way to Shady Sands.

excerpt ➳ A stern, leather grip had slowly clamped down upon your back, nestling into the bare crevice of your shoulder; it was far tighter than Gob’s hand. Standing, now, on your left, a tall man bearing dusky rags and some of the quirkiest boots you’d seen in a while, brushed up against your opposite shoulder. With his hand still clamped down against your skin, he leaned in beside your face as he looked Gob up and down; twice—no, thrice over.

Then, he spoke with a toothy grin. ‘You the barkeep ‘round here, eczema?’

His voice was like polished leather—which you had only ever heard in the pictures, which Moriarty seldom played around here, anyways—with a Southern twang melded amidst a baritone husk.

It was unique; not an accent commonly heard around Megaton, and certainly not a voice you had heard over any radio frequencies that this shit-hole ever managed to pick up. In other words, you were already a tad intrigued by this odd man, whose hand was still latched onto your skin; and maybe it was a good idea not to wear leather tonight.

But when you looked up at the newcomer, your smirk had faltered faster than a Gulper downing its next meal.

‘Well? You gon’ keep a paying customer from enjoying a whiskey?’ the stranger exclaimed, looking around at the other guests. Fervently, Gob nodded his head—quickly cursing at himself as he began to shake his head like a lunatic. The stranger grinned, now, looking back towards Gob with a slow nod. ‘Neat-o, then. Thanks a shit ton, partner,’ he continued. Then, he tapped one finger against your shoulder with a nod, speaking lower as he addressed you, and you alone. ‘Darlin.’’

Finally, he removed his hand from your person, but instead of taking the seat next to you, like you had assumed would happen, he began to walk around the small room, eyeing every guest—everyone you knew by secret and name—with a curt nod; far more distant than the one he’d given you.

Well, you didn’t really care. Because it was another fucking—

‘Ghoul,’ Gob sputtered out.

Immediately after the stranger had walked away, you and Gob locked eyes with a shared horror; though, yours reflected the tiniest bit of curiosity in them, and Gob could sense it from a mile away. Slowly, he shook his head, mouthing the words ‘No,’ but it was too late. Moriarty had burst through the front door, nearly knocking the rickety thing off its hinges. He slurred something to Lucy as he walked by, but when he plopped down beside you on the only empty barstool, his smirk and swaying had ceased.

‘Fuck’s got you all spooked like a heated kitten, Gob?’ he exclaimed, squinting ahead as he searched your friend’s face for any signs of an answer. ‘You creepin’ out another customer?’ Moriarty was practically sneering at this point, and you were really beginning to wish that stranger could have taken up his attention, instead of poor Gob.

And, well, those prayers were answered pretty fucking fast.

As though the unfamiliar, and only other Ghoul you had ever seen had been listening in on your thoughts, he slowly approached the bar once more; this time, however, he rested against the wooden table, standing at your opposite shoulder. Then, he leaned over the narrow island, looking past you to meet Moriarty’s shocked gaze; with a hoarse chuckle, the stranger nodded back towards Gob with a cheeky grin, peeling and burnt skin creasing with his laughter.

‘This nut job here your boss?’

Once again, you and Gob met eyes with shared frowns. Slowly, Gob moved his gaze towards Moriarty, then back to you, then to the strange Ghoul standing to your right. ‘Maybe,’ he croaked.

The stranger slammed his fist down against the wooden island, nearly driving his leather glove through its cheap contents. ‘Maybe there’s a pretty, little thing seated at my shoulder, and maybe this bird-shit toupee-wearer over here’s your boss, little man! Truthfully, I want to know what takes a gentleman so long to make my drink. I couldn’t care less ‘bout the freaks that run this fine establishment,’ he began, quickly gathering the attention of the entire bar. Even Nova had peeked her head out from the raggy curtains of the room she had been entertaining. ‘But don’t feed me lies, sweetheart. Now, we good here?’

Frantically, Gob began gliding his hands over every damn cup he could get his pale fingers on, knocking glasses over every which way, until he finally found a short glass to pair with the bottle of whiskey he’d been clutching, like his life had depended on it.

Did his life actually depend on that bottle of whiskey?

The stranger watched with his mouth slightly ajar and his chin tilted upwards, as Gob began to pour the other Ghoul his drink.

Oh, shit.

With a hurried whisper, you looked down in horror at the maple liquid running down thick cubes of ice. ‘He meant neat, Gob. Neat whiskey.’ With a rapidly increasing heart rate, you realised Gob hadn’t heard your indistinct correction, so you decided—frantically—to try a different approach. ‘Neat-o!’ you exclaimed, throwing your arms into the air with a forced laugh.

Every goddamn settler in that saloon stared at you, as if you were some sort of radroach apologist, or worse, a Ghoul-fucker.

‘Little lady,’ that sweet, fucking Southern accent drawled—and he was so damn close to your ear, you could feel the sick warmth of his ghoulish breath. ‘You ain’t seen a female raider and a little gal walkin’ through this ticking time-bomb of a shithole, have ya?’ His voice had suddenly dropped a certain octave or two, and that playful tug at his lilt had quickly vanished.

You shook your head once, refusing to look up at the wicked creature at your neck.

‘No? Well, then, I’d best be goin’. Y’all offer whiskey-ta-go? Preferably in one of them Nuka Cola bottles, like this little lady right here,’ the stranger exclaimed, looking around at the rest of the patrons as he grinned wickedly in turn. ‘All I’ve been met with since I strolled into this here’s town, is disappointment. Well, the Enclave must have sucked your titties and drained your cocks dry of the last droplets here called freedom of speech.’ He looked down at you again, and that sneer had slowly settled into more of a grin, than anything. ‘Y’all have yourselves a fine evenin’.’

‘Wait!’ Moriarty shouted, knocking his barstool over. ‘Wait a moment, there. You’re a Ghoul, ain’tcha? Well, it just so-happens that we’re renting rooms for half-off tonight, if you buy a drink… or two. Specifically for Ghouls. Trust me, this deal is worth it! The Wasteland is cold and dry at night, and a good man like yourself shouldn’t have to spend a night in such solitude, when instead, you could be spending it with these fine ladies!’ Moriarty looked around at both you and Nova with a cheeky grin, then stood up to place a gentle hand on the stranger’s worn-leather shoulder. ‘How’s that deal sound to you, good sir?’

Read the entire first chapter here!

[justafoxhound]

WIP whenever

tagged by @dirty-bosmer to share a wip🤗

Today I was inspired by my current fo3 game where i've hired jericho. What if Talia hired him to help her make the trip to Tenpenny Tower?(Honestly i feels like this could be a major edit to Atomic Smitten..!)

tagging @jentucker (you wanted this!)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Kid, I didn’t sign on with you to play fuckin’ Santa Claus out here.”

Talia could feel the eyes on her back as she stormed ahead of her companion, leaving the thirsty beggar in the humming Megaton dirt.

“You pull any of that shit again and I’m gone.”

Talia stopped in her tracks and turned about to face the man yelling after her. “Excuse me?”

“You fuckin’ heard me,” he barked, jabbing the air with the bottle of purified water he’d just yanked from the beggar’s grasp. “In fact, if you’re gonna make me repeat myself like you’re some fuckin’ moron, I’m outta here as well.”

Talia blinked in astonishment. “I- Jesus Christ, are you for real? I paid you didn’t I? You’re gonna bail over a sip of water?”

His permanent scowl grew harsher. “Listen, you stuck up Vault bitch. You only paid me half. You fuck around givin’ away useful stuff like this, waste my time, bore me, and I’ll take my half back to Moriarty’s right fuckin’ now. Got no problem getting drunk instead of babysittin’ you.”

Talia’s stomach lurched. “You’ll get your other half. I promised, didn’t I? Jericho, come on.” She urged him to continue with her away from town. She couldn’t make this trip alone. At least not now she’d given him every cap she had after begging Mr. Burke for an advance on the pay he promised on completion of his request. “The caps are yours, but we have to get to Tenpenny Tower to get paid.”

Jericho glared from a few paces away. “And if this turns out to be a fuckin’ merry-go-round? Whole thing’s fucked up. I hope you’ll still be feelin’ so charitable if we find out there’s nobody up there, ‘cause I’m gonna be real pissed.”

Talia stifled a shiver. This was almost definitely not a good idea. Maybe she could have taken her chances alone. But it was too late now. Plus, she’d seen the claw marks on one of the town’s brahmin. Not all of the Vault stories about mutants were exaggeration. “No, sir,” she declared. “There’s plenty of people there. And when I say this guy is expecting us, we’ll get straight in, I swear.” I hope.

Jericho sniffed and took a noisy swig from the water bottle. “Yeah? This guy, Burke, he for real?”

Talia nodded profusely. “He had five hundred caps in his pocket to give me. And he’s from Tenpenny Tower so surely he’s good for it, and he wants the job done.” She put up a convincing argument, partly to assure herself too. The well dressed visitor had offered her one thousand caps for a simple, if extreme, job. She wasn’t sure it wasn’t just his strange idea of a sick joke. People on the surface were different, and he wasn’t like anybody she’d encountered in this town.

Jericho seemed to finish his thought, losing the animal intensity that had briefly sharpened his gaze. “Yeah, I seen him around. Had plenty to spend around town every day. Alright, let’s get goin’ before I change my mind.”

Talia nodded and hurried to match her mercenary’s quick pace, albeit keeping well out of arm’s reach. The old, grizzled, wasteland tough guy hadn’t given her a second glance in Moriarty’s saloon. But she wondered if he hadn’t heard some of her conversation with Mr. Burke, because as soon as she approached him about work escorting her across the wasteland he’d hit her pretty quick with a steep price of exactly one thousand caps. He’d seemed pretty surprised when she actually ponied up half that.

She breathed a little easier once he’d walked more than a minute without complaining. She didn't doubt he’d walk away with her caps and leave her in more of a mess than she already was, so she resolved to try to keep quiet and just get to the tower. But if she had to coddle him to keep him happy, she would. She’d pinned all hope of living beyond a week on Mr. Burke’s outrageous offer, couldn’t back out, and she had to reach him first. He held all the baskets, and she only had one egg, and she’d given it to Jericho.

“The fuck you givin’ this away here for anyway? Won’t do him any good.” Jericho interrupted her thoughts, brandishing the water bottle.

“I was just gonna give him a sip. I thought I was gonna die of thirst when I got out the Vault.”

He sniffed. “I don’t get it.”

She didn’t try to explain. “Can I have it please?”

He tossed a glance her way. “No. Not to waste it on dead men.”

“I’m thirsty. Anyway, I swiped it from Moriarty fair and square.”

“No shit? I thought this was Vault water. That fucker holds all the best stuff back. What was he chargin’?”

“Um, like, thirty caps?”

Jericho snorted. “Man, robbery without gettin’ off your ass. He don’t bother get his hands dirty. It’s gotta get boring though, if you ask me. You get anything stronger?”

Talia shook her head uncertainly, mumbling an apology.

“Shit.” Jericho tossed the water her way. “First bottle of booze you see is mine.”

She agreed, muffling her sigh of relief at catching the water without stumbling. It was going to be a long walk.

[aamusedly]

@noseblxxd is looking for THE DEVIL.

He figured it was only a matter of time before the Brotherhood of Steel came searching for him. There was too much history of violence there for them to let sleeping dogs lie: in so beheading his raider gang the Devil had made their work easier for them, but the zealots didn't seem like they'd be particularly grateful. A raider was a raider, former or not.

Popping his head up in Megaton was a risky move, but after isolating in a shack in the middle of fucking nowhere for a few weeks, the Devil was starting to lose touch with reality. That and he was out of food, out of booze, out of addictol for his withdrawal, and out of the caps it would take to get all of it.

So he'd poked about for some jobs-- honest jobs this time. It was indignant moving crates of scrap metal around, backbreaking even, but he could do it. All it risked was the Brotherhood catching wind once he put his name out again.

And they did. Unsurprising.

Granted, Devil wasn't in a spot to care all that much. He was sitting in the back of Moriarty's saloon with the last drink he could afford on the meager caps he'd scrapped together. Straight whiskey had done the trick to get him at least a little snookered- enough that he didn't instantly pull a gun when he heard somebody looking for the guy with horns.

[florbelles]

LYRA FAIRBANKS x JOHN SEED welcome you to eden’s gate. they are normal humans. there is nothing alarming here. they love you. why are you running. why are you

ALANNA RYAN x ELIZA CLARKE watching problems they definitely absolutely did not cause unravel in moriarty’s saloon. sorry to this man 

JOCELYN PERALTA x BENNY GECKO featuring benny’s totally consistent identifiable replicatable face that doesn’t morph across all platforms. ring a ding baby

LILLIAN FITZGERALD x NATE FALCON after he waited literally 200 years for her to figure her shit out. true love

tagged by @strafethesesinners, @fourlittleseedlings, @queennymeria, @morvaris, @shallow-gravy, @roofgeese, @henbased, @adelaidedrubman, @leviiackrman, @corvosattano, @nightbloodraelle, @aartyom, @gwynbleidd, @risingsh0t, @chuckhansen, @shadowglens, @phillipsgraves & @jendoe to use this picrew to make some kids & their partners, ty beloveds!! not sending out any more tags since this is v late but if you’re looking for one or a reminder take this as your sign and @ me xx

[radiationgroove]

Commission: Gob

A Valentine's Day commission piece off Discord. Enjoy!

He needed out.

Gob spent too much time within the walls of the saloon while living in Moriarty’s servitude. He knew every spot of rust in the corrugated metal, every crack in the floor, every regulars’ order. Between the beatings and the beratements, he dreamt of sunlight and fresh air. His days consisted of little more than tending bar on few hours of sleep and trying to put the vision of Nova escorting a customer upstairs out of his mind.

Everything changed for him when the Irishman was found deader than dead in his bed. No one grieved for Colin Moriarty, and he was buried outside of town with little ceremony. No one questioned it. 

The bar was his, almost by default it seemed. Nova helped him barter for some paint and one obscenely large sign later, the two of them christened it “Gobs’ Saloon.” Little about his routine changed, really, except the unspoken freedom. Nova retired, as it were, put sex work behind her. Gob continued to tend the bar, but he was no longer looking over his shoulder for a shadow and jumping at every unexpected sound.  Well…less frequently anyway. Some habits were hard to break.

And he could leave! Whenever he wanted to! He could take walks through Megaton, which he did. He’d fill his pockets with caps, just in case, and wander. Somehow, in all the years he’d spent here since leaving Underworld, there were still people he hadn’t met. He explored all of the walkways, visited Moira at the supply shop, and, at his bravest, waded through the water surrounding the bomb, just to listen to the Children of Atom preach and soak up some rads.

Gob liked the Brass Lantern across the center of town. Jenny was nice enough, as was Leo despite his…difficulties. Andy didn’t care much for the ghoul, and glared daggers every time Gob sat at the lunch counter. Which, he supposed, was all right by Gob.. Jenny served him nonetheless. Gob must have tried everything on the menu at least once. So the Brass Lantern became a visit for Gob once, sometimes twice a week. He needed a new routine, he decided, a nice thing to do for himself after a long day.

Gob never really had the urge to venture outside the safety of Megaton’s walls. Yes, he missed Carol (and Greta, if he was being honest with himself) and Underworld dearly, but Megaton became home sweet home. Noodles were tonights’ dinner of choice. Jenny’d given him chopsticks; Gob gladly fumbled with them while he ate.

Somewhere in the metal framework of Megaton, a close, dull thunk. He startled, his noodles falling back into the bowl. Gob remained very still. Megaton was, largely, a safe place to live; surely nothing could be lurking around the corner, waiting to pounce. Gob sat at the counter at the Brass Lantern in silence. He dared not move a muscle. Somehow, the center of town was nearly empty; the Children of Atom preacher had even called it quits for the night. Across the street he could just barely hear Doc Church typing up records on his terminal from an open window. If Gob needed a hero he’d be screwed.

But something did indeed lurk.

A blurr of gray and white shifted out of the shadows. It ran across the roof of the restaurant and jumped from the awning of the restaurant to the first empty stool. 

“Mrrp!”

The sound landed beside him. A single glowing eye blinked up at Gob.

A cat.

When was the last time he’d seen a cat? 

“Uh…hi,” Gob mumbled, suddenly very self conscious that he was talking to a cat. It was a ball of dirty white and gray fur. That single eye was milky white and the other looked to be missing all together. “Where’d you come from? How’d you get way up there?” 

The cat gave its face a little wash with the back of its paw and looked at Gob expectantly. With shaking hand, the ghoul reached out…and the cat, this sweet creature, leaned into his touch. Rubbed its face into his palm. Gob allowed himself a smile and scratched behind the cats ear.

 “I guess we’re friends now, huh?” Gob offered with a shrug. “You wanna come back to the saloon with me?”

“Mrrp,” the cat chirped in response. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he decided with a little nod, “which wouldn’t be a bad thing. Not like we have pests or anything, which…I’m not sure you’d be big enough to take care of a rat or something…” Gob paused, head cocked to one side. The cat blinked. “You’re gonna need a name.”

The cat stretched and climbed onto the bar. Gob’s bowl of noodles seemed inviting. The cat sniffed at the chopsticks…and stuck a paw into the bowl.

“Get your feet outta there!”

[thefalloutwiki]

Were you previously aware...

That if Colin Moriarty dies, Gob will take over and the saloon's sign will be repainted?

You can read more here

[pyrettawychwiggin]

'Gobsmacked/Moriarty Must Die'

Because ghouls need love too, dammit.

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- Pairing: Maria Röntgen (Lone Wanderer) & Gob

- Rating: Teen/Young Adult/SFW

'Maria's about to something she can't take back. Before she disappears from Megaton forever, she has time for only a single farewell.'

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Note from the author: this is just a quick snippet of a casual fanfiction project I've been chipping away at since I've started playing through Fallout 3 again! The full version may or may not eventually see the light of day, but I figured I'd put it here in case anyone wants to read it! ~ Py

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A few quick notes:

• the name of the Lone Wanderer in this fanfiction is Maria Röntgen.

• Maria arrived in Megaton the same day she left Vault 101; she's been there for about three weeks, and has since gained a fair amount of goodwill from the people there - even having managed to disarm the bomb.

• Maria had become quite close with a few of the settlers there, but especially with Gob and Nova. She and Nova have had a flirtatious fling ever since she'd arrived, and Maria has been very close to Gob as well, though nothing has happened between them as of yet.

• Maria has never killed someone in cold blood before - but after seeing the amount of damage Moriarty has done, she's made a decision; taking him out will be the last thing she does before she disappears.

• This whole story won't be entirely about Gob and Maria - in fact, there are a few characters she ends up involved with, but Gob very well may be the first.

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Our story begins...

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The inky skies were dark over Megaton, and only the sounds of deep metal groans and aching creaks could be heard in the air. Even the radroaches seemed still and unmoving as an unspoken tension rose into the air.

Gob sighed and hummed an old tune under his breath as he wiped down the counter of the bar for the twenty-third time. Moriarty's Saloon was empty and silent as the grave - the few patrons they had were already tucked away in their beds. He enjoyed the peace on nights like this - no one to torment him, no Moriarty to berate him merely for existing in his presence. He couldn't help but think how life would be much nicer if it could just be like this all the time...

To his surprise, the front door swung open and in walked Maria. She seemed to be moving with a purpose, her head on a swivel as she took a seat right up at the bar.

"Oh, it's you, Maria," Gob let out a breath of relief. "Thought you were someone else for a second. You here for a nightcap?"

"Afraid not, Gob." Her eyes moved behind his shoulder to make sure no one was lingering behind him. "I have to tell you something, but we can't be overheard. Is it safe?"

"Uh, yeah. Everyone's out for night. Even Moriarty's out cold." Gob flung his cloth over his shoulder and leaned forward. "What's going on? Never seen you so strung out."

"I'll have to keep this short and sweet, Gob." Maria pressed her palm over the back of the ghoul's hand, gaining his complete, undivided attention. "I'm leaving Megaton. Tonight. After I take care of some... unfinished business."

"You're leaving?" Gob frowned. "Why? Where're you going?"

"I have to find my father, Gob. And besides," she paused, taking a breath before she continued. "Folks probably won't want me around after tonight."

Gob didn't know what to say - with so many questions in his head, he couldn't decide on which ones to start with. Before he could ask anything, Maria continued.

"Listen, Gob. I can't tell you exactly what I'm about to do, but once it's done, you'll know it. Seeing as how you're likely the one to be the first to find out..." Maria pulled a chip from her inner pocket and placed it in the ghoul's hand. "I want you to take this."

"What is it?"

"It's a confession - for a crime. My confession," Maria frowned, looking up into his eyes. "I know how people get, and I don't want anyone blaming you for what's about to happen, but I need you to promise me something."

"Anything, just name it," Gob whispered, leaning across the bar to listen closer.

"You must not listen to it until sunrise. I can't have you knowing any more than you already do - I didn't even want to involve you this much, but I don't have a choice." Maria squeezes his hand earnestly. "Can you promise me that?"

"But I have so many questions," Gob stuttered, unsure what to think.

"Promise me, Gob." Maria pleaded. "Please."

"Yeah," Gob sighs. "I promise."

Maria's shoulders relaxed as she bowed her head in relief. "Thank you."

"I..." Gob started. "... I don't want you to leave."

"Gob..."

"You're one of the only people around here that's nice to me." Gob shakes his head. "I like having you around."

"I like being around too, Gob. Believe me, leaving you here is one of the hardest parts of this whole situation." Maria places her hand gently on Gob's cheek, making his heart skip a beat. "But what I'm about to do is going to benefit not just you, but all of Megaton."

Gob places a hand on hers, pressing his cheek further against her touch. "I'm gonna miss ya, Smoothskin."

"I'll miss you too, barkeep." Maria leans forward and presses her forehead against his, closing her eyes. "Who knows. Maybe someday when this all blows over, I can come by again. But maybe not."

Gob and Maria stayed like this in silence for a minute before Maria sighed. "It's time, Gob. This is where I leave you." To his surprise, Maria places a soft, lingering kiss on his forehead before pulling away for the last time. "Remember. Not until sunrise."

Gob nods sadly, tucking the chip away in his pocket. He kept his head down, gaze to his feet as he listened to Maria's footsteps start to retreat. He quickly looked up as he heard her rushing towards him. Flinging her arms around his neck, she crashed her lips to his.

He couldn't recall the last time he'd been kissed - and it certainly hadn't been like this. When he managed to shake himself out of his shocked stupor, he snaked his arms around Maria's waist, returning her kiss. His heart thundered against his chest, feeling her pressed up against him, knowing this would probably be the first and last time he'd feel her lips on his.

All too quickly, she draws back, hands lingering on his face for just a moment longer; then just as quickly as she'd come, she rushes out the door and into the night, leaving Gob behind the bar, hardly believing what had just happened.

~ To be continued (maybe)

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If y'all enjoyed this, let me know if it's something you'd like to read more of in the future.

~ Pyretta Wychwiggin