#The Settlement Cookbook | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

penvisions · 7 months ago

Text

by the grit of sandpaper {chapter 5}

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader

Chapter Summary: Another overnight patrol, an asked favor, a miscommunication, a fleeting moment of pleasure and it all comes crumbling down. Even worse than you had anticipated, the allure of being a part of something bigger than yourself blinding you into believing it was finally within reach.

Word Count: 10.3k (!!)

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, illusions to past death, illusions to past trauma, blood, mild injuries, hurtful language, town gossip, rumors, negative feelings, pining, heart of gold joel, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, lots of feelings, angst, hurt and comfort, joel miller's hands need their own warning, intentional flirting, unintentional flirting, casual intimacy, urges to kiss joel miller get their own warning, adult content, teasing, yearning, protective joel, fluff, this is so unbelievably soft, size kink unlocked in reader, (girl, i feel you), reader is described as smaller than joel (bc c'mon), reader has a commonly used nickname but no assigned name, joel and reader pov

A/N: holy shit, i am so sorry for the mix up with the original content. i'm so emotionally drained from today that i didn't realize it wasn't the final version of the chapter that i uploaded. but it's fixed, all scenes are complete and as they should be.

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

It was your fault, you realized. As you set about searching for something you remembered seeing in the house when you had first been assigned to it and moved in with Aiden. It had been one of those things that you stared at in disbelief, startling manic, nearly hysterical laughter that had turned into tears and uneven breaths. So ridiculous to have come across it over a decade after the end of the world.

A pack of index cards.

Index cards. Who needed index cards at the end of the world, when language was all people had. Skills like writing, reading, all faded away and dormant reflexes that could be called upon if and when needed.

It hadn’t mattered if you could write, had the ability to write or read when you were running for your life from Infected and humans, crashing through the remains of what was once a town or city, crashing through snapping and unforgiving forests, crashing through unforgiving open land in the hopes that you weren’t spotted a mile away by someone trying to protect what was theirs or looking for targets.

It was your fault he had pulled away to the point of beginning his…thing with Marsha. The way you had run from him, run from what you had both shared. But it didn’t mean anything, he was...Joel was…an important part of the settlement. Integrated far better than you ever had the chance to and you would just ruin it for him. He had to understand that because he too, hadn’t tried to bring it up.

Gathering them and a few of the cookbooks you had, you settled at the kitchen table. Taking the time to flip through the recipes to find simple ones that could be adapted to the more limited means the settlement could produce. Eager to find ones that Joel wouldn’t find too challenging and would like the end result of.

Just as your pen hit the paper, a knock sounded on your door. Sighing, you set it down and made your way across the front of your home to find Tommy with a crying bundle in his hands.

“Maria left me with ‘im for the day to handle some council business and he won’t stop cryin’.” He looked like he was about to burst into tears himself, but you didn’t say as much. Knowing firsthand how draining it was to look after a newborn.

“Well, good morning to you too.” You said as the man shouldered his way past you and took up half of the couch, an old backpack swinging from his elbow.

“You said to come to you for anything we needed, and I need your help.”

“How do you know I’m not bad with babies, huh? Maybe they hate me and I’m one of those women who don’t like them?”

“But you’re not. Right?” His curls were a frizzled mess, his eyes telling of his sleepless night as they widened and regarded you almost desperately. Rocking the bundle in his arms gently, holding it close, But his arms looked angled weird, totally not in a natural hold. “Joel always said I was too anxious around Sarah when she was super little and that’s why she cried for him for hours until she tired herself out. But he’s busy workin’ on finishing up that new roof before the snow really starts to come down.”

You did know who Sarah was. It had been a rather slow and somber conversation between you and Joel one day in the middle of summer. You had only been going out on patrols with him for a few months at that point. Him and Tommy focusing on getting as much done around the town upon his return, taking longer than usual to add a newcomer to the roster.

He had asked after you, if you lived alone. You had answered yes, saying you lost everyone in the initial chaos of the outbreak. Your city too densely packed for a chance to return home, the only chance at survival had been to immediately flee. He had told you something similar, that he had lost everything but his brother in the wake of the virus. You hadn’t asked after who, but he had told you of his daughter. His biological daughter with a wet chuckle at how she was too kind for this world anyway. You had looked away from his tears, knowing even back then that he needed to speak otherwise it would eat him from the inside out. To think of her constantly and not be able to talk about her must’ve hurt just as much as losing her. Mentions of her sprinkled future conversations and you were glad he trusted you with that part of himself.

But you weren’t sure if Tommy knew you did beyond her name as chalk on a blackboard memorial in his living room.

“I’m good with babies,” You assured the man beside you. Slipping a full bottle from the side of the pack and asked him to dap it to your wrist. You licked up the milky liquid, immediately pinpointing the issue.

“It’s too bland, a little sugar mixed in won’t do any harm. But I prefer maple since it’s got the same qualities of honey but less of the local pollen. Both will help build immunity to the blooms come spring time.” Standing up, you carefully moved the baby to rest along your front, head on your shoulder and moved into the kitchen. The cap had been unscrewed by a watching Tommy and you stirred in a bit of maple syrup that had been collected outside the gates.

The bundle in your arms was still crying, though not as high a volume as when Tommy had first entered the house. Softly hushing and cooing to try and calm him. The second you touched the bottle of sweetened milk to his little lips, he quieted down and began to sip.

“Oh, thank god.” Tommy’s head was in his hands, elbows atop his knees. You settled beside him once again, smiling over at the older man. “Olive, if this is too much, I promise-“

“It’s okay, really.” You let him rest a wide palm on your knee, his fingers caressing the bare skin there as your dress skirt allowed for them to show. His eyes wide and beseeching, making sure you were really okay before he sunk into the cushions. “I’ve made peace with it a long time ago…”

It was his fault. The thought consumed him as he inspected the planks of olive wood, having brought them into the house after the first heavy coat of frost that covered the whole town after a particularly chilly night. He recalled having woken up, shivering as he yanked on a pair of thick socks and searched through the closets in the house for a spare blanket to throw over his bed. How he wondered if you were warm enough in your own bed as he donned his boots unlaced and jacket unzipped to drape another blanket he had taken from the closet over a passed out Ellie in her little studio.

And then he had wondered what type of clothing you wore to bed. When you had answered the door in your robe, it hadn’t looked like you had anything on underneath it aside from maybe underwear and a tank top. Not enough to keep your skin from the chill that tended to seep in through the panes of the windows all around Jackson, despite the blessing of functioning heaters.

He hadn’t gone after you, his attention being called away. You had run off, too startled by being interrupted and most likely embarrassed at being caught in such an intimate moment. But…it had been such a good moment until it had been shattered.

You had shown up at his door in a long dress, the skirt flowing down to your knees, thick fabric around your legs to combat the ever-present chill in the air. There was a whicker basket, handle draped over your forearm. That paired with your worn boots and wide brimmed had had been such a lovely image to open his front door to.

It had been hard not to stare at you and you talked and guided Ellie through dinner, faint music drifting into the kitchen from the living room as he set about cleaning up after each step and setting the table. It was all so domestic and he wanted for more nights like it. Just you and him and Ellie.

Sighing, you made sure to lock the front door behind you. Apron bundled up beneath your armpit and thrown in the general direction of the laundry room door on the other side of the kitchen. Filling and setting a kettle over the stove, you stood and looked out your kitchen window for a moment, taking in the fluffy snow that had attempted to stick as the dark, moody sky brought it over the town. It was still early, the sunrise more than likely about to occur, but it hidden in the overcast.

You shifted your gaze over the counters, logging the ingredients you had on hand for a possible breakfast even if you weren’t terribly hungry at the moment. When they landed on the broken mixing spoon that had decided to crack and splinter last night under your soapy hands as you cleaned up over dinner, you moved to rummage in the hall closet. The scrape of untreated wood along the floor sent a chill up your spine as your fingers closed around what you were searching for.

The thick slab of wood is covered with an old flat sheet. It had been from a tree last year, one that had lost a main branch in the same winds that had taken a whole one from your collection.

It was beautiful. Rich in color, the grain so detailed and curling in beautiful swirls. Burl added layers and looking pretty as it was set just so in the cut. You had kept it, unable to burn it for the soil. The thought of asking Joel to make you a set of cooking utensils had been in the back of your mind for nearly the entire time he had been here. But now with the crop of cutting boards artfully crafted, you were tempted to ask him to make of those from the hefty source in your hands.

But he hadn’t offered you one, hadn’t so much as mentioned that he had begun to make more and more ever since that first one he had been ‘trying out the idea’ in Tommy’s kitchen. You were hesitant to bring it up, but with the holidays only a couple weeks away…you were curious to see his reaction to the request.

You didn’t ask anything of anyone. Not even when you first got here, had taken the time to acclimate to the way life was led here within the settlement. Community, social circles, job detail, patrol. All of it had been taken in stride, and you worked for everything in your possession. Joel did too. You admired him for it.

A few moments later, you were rapping your knuckles against the man’s front door.

Ellie comes around the side, hearing it from her separate garage. She had looked frustrated, then curious, then excited.

“Hey, Olive,” She walks up to you, noticing the wood in your hands. “The old man’s not home, he went to help out with the lil guy.”

“O-oh, okay. I’ll just come back, I guess.” But when you began to inch closer to the porch steps, she ascended them with a small smile.

“Nah, come hang with me until he gets back.” She brushed past you with a soft touch to your arm. A key slid into the lock and then you were hesitantly following her into the house. “Feel free to make some of that god awful coffee you two enjoy so much, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

You saw her dip off down the hall, the sound of her rustling through something behind an open door allowing you the privacy to make up your mind on the offer of coffee as you stood on the threshold to the kitchen. With a determined push, you set about to search for the coffee grounds and mugs. He had only two, one with a detailed owl and another more simple one. It was a plain white one that was hefty and looked like it belonged in the full hands of diner waitress.

It transported you back to late nights and early mornings surrounded by ruckus laughter and inside jokes, the scent of pancakes and bacon cooking on a flattop and the jingle of a bell to signal overflowing plates were ready to be dug into.

“What’s that in the cloth?” Ellie’s curiosity piqued by the bundle you had set down atop the kitchen table, her long thin fingers slowly unwrapping it. With a nod from you, she did so completely. Her eyebrows shot up, thoughts swirling behind her keen eyes. They flicked to the back room just on the other side of the kitchen wall. Her bottom lip was taken between her teeth and she looked like she was trying not to laugh.

“I know it’s silly, but…” You couldn’t help but feel nervous admitting it out loud, that you wanted to ask Joel to take some of his sparse free time for a personal project. You poured yourself a steaming cup of the finished coffee, searching for the sugar cannister. “This has been drying for nearly a year and I was gonna ask Joel-“

“Gonna ask Joel what?” His voice sounded from the doorway into the kitchen, startling you both. You rushed to put yourself between him and the table, a poor attempt to hide the plank of wood from his curious eyes. He looked tired, no doubt having been up more than resting all last night if he had been over at Tommy and Maria’s.

Taking that as her queue to leave, Ellie bolted out the back door with a hollered goodbye.

“Oh, um. Hi,” You waved slightly at him, unsure of how he would take to coming home to his house and finding you in his kitchen. Even if Ellie had said it would be okay. You were nervous, knowing that asking for something was a tricky thing. Even if he was so willing to give to others; his time, his attention, his skills. “I ha-have this.”

Moving out of the way as he crept closer on heavy feet, you allowed him to see the olive wood you had hauled over here.

“I-I was wondering i-if you’d be able to make a set of cooking utensils out of this? But I understand if you’re too busy, or don’t want to work with the dense wood, or don’t have the time-“

"Of course, sweetheart. I’ll try my best for you." And just like that he melted all your worries away and a smile pulled at your lips.

He easily moved the chunk of wood from the kitchen to his workspace. The muscles of his arms bulging beneath his flannel, the muscles of his shoulders straining at the fabric over his broad shoulders. All for your viewing pleasure as you followed behind him. The room was smaller than you expected, on his ground floor, just down the hall from the kitchen. But it was such a reflection on who he was.

The main desk had a comfortable looking chair, thick cushion on the seat. Atop it was an open book, propped up on a few stacked behind it and open to a stunning photograph of a deer. In the center was a partially carved figurine of the deer in the photo, shavings around it and tools lined up in a half circle around the back of it.

“How many pieces did you want?” He carefully bent his knees and lowered the wood to the ground, atop a tarp that several long pieces of lumber were set on and leaning against the wall. Blocks of wood beside them and lined up against the wall almost like bricks.

“Oh, um, just however many you can manage.” The crack of his knees as he straightened worried you, but it happened to you more and more so you understood it wasn’t really painful so much as uncomfortable most of the time.

"The cutting boards all around town...” Trailing off as a familiar scent caught your attention through the general smell of lumber, you moved toward the pile of wooden planks lined up along the wall like books atop a work table. There were many shades and types of wood, all different steps of being sanded down or stained, shavings nestled in a waste bucket beneath. Tools scattered over the surface and small cannisters of sealant and paint stacked neatly beside them. Two of the planks of wood were light, ashy and your attention honed in on them as you moved toward the table. “It was kinda my idea and I was wondering if-"

"Sweetheart, I can't make you one." You startled at the boom of his voice so close, blocking your view from the stack of them as he moved to stand in front of you. The hand that had been reaching out with the intention of caressing them fell back to your side.

"Oh, um, okay." You cast your eyes down, taking in the worn leather of his boots. Of yours. There were so many of them, easily two handfuls and yet he wasn’t willing to share one with you. But everyone else around town seemed to be worthy and you couldn’t help but wonder why you weren’t. You were friends, he had said it himself. But then…but then you had kissed him and fled.

No question as to why flowed from you. You were used to not being included, but you had to admit that it stung coming from him. In an attempt to mask it you tried to smile but you weren’t sure if it actually showed. Your chest ached, body feeling like it wasn’t yours. Like you were looking down on it as it stood in that workspace with the man who sought solace within it. Like you had intruded, and shame bubbled up for having made yourself comfortable where you shouldn’t have.

"Can't find a sealant that would hold up to those knives we found. You'd just cause damage to it."

"Okay, but-“ You tried to backtrack, to apologize for being so curious.

"No, Olive. I don't have one for you, so please quit askin'."

You didn’t say anything, your voice stuck in your throat. Turning and walking away from him without looking up, afraid to see his expression. You faintly heard his voice calling after you, but you ignored it, it was far away. It was as if you were down in a tunnel, like you had tipped over and fell down into one the second Joel had turned you down.

You wanted to move past it, to gloss over it, to stay and enjoy in the time he had been willing to give you on his one day free from responsibilities. But you couldn’t, your chest felt like it had caved in, like you were hollow, like you would never be able to break into the social graces of the settlement. Marked with the death of someone who had, someone who kept messing up and making it easy for people to turn you away.

He thinks about how hurt you looked when he tried to ward you off from the stack of cutting boards he had practiced designs on and different shapes. berating himself for being so harsh when he had been scared you would see the wood he had taken from you without your knowledge. You had been reaching for the planks made from it, drawn to them as if they were magnetized.

The way in which you had shut down, his soothing words after denying you falling on deaf ears as you turned and simply walked away from him. He had been under the impression you wanted to spend the day with him. You had been an unexpected guest but not an unwelcome one. It had been nice to return to his home to find you there, comfortable enough to have put on a pot of coffee and the errant scent of that woodsy, floral perfume that seemed to be a part of your skin from tending to the trees in your yard.

But you had just turned and walked away.

He watched you go, not liking the way you had shrunk into yourself at his denial. He had tried to be soft with it, you couldn’t know that you had been asking after the one thing he wanted to keep a secret from you. That you had given him the idea and he was practicing and making so many different prototypes all to ensure that when it came time to craft yours, that he would be able to do so easily.

He scrubbed a hand roughly over his face, sighing out as he dressed for patrol. His alarm had gone off an hour ago but he had already been awake, sleep evading him as the moment from the other day played in his mind’s eye over and over again.

Settling on the musty cushions beside you, the memory of the last time he had done so puffed up along with a cloud of dust. It had been a long day. Clearing the village and finding a place to hole up in for the night.

“I’ll take the first watch, try ‘n get some rest.” He murmured low, taking in the way you were already curling your legs up underneath your body on the other end of the couch. The scarf around your neck pulled up for you to bury your face into it, hands in their gloves and secure in the pockets of your coat.

You didn’t think you even responded, the cold of the day draining you and making sleep too alluring a respite even with the broad man beside you and all alone for the first time in a while.

Bird calls woke you up hours later, signaling the start of a new day. The warmth of sleeping was a lull to the chill you knew awaited outside, but you pressed into the bed further, burrowing even more into the lump of blankets you tended to scrunch up beside you.

But the lump shifted and your eyes flew open to find a different setting than you dark bedroom. You weren’t asleep in your bed, you were sunk into a decrepit couch and pressed into Joel’s right side, having sought out his warmth in the cold house. He was asleep too, his eyes closed despite his body still seated up with his feet resting on the ground.

You couldn’t help but rest your cheek on his shoulder, taking comfort in how close and warm he was, even if it had been an instinctual move to begin with.

He was so handsome. Beautiful. From the scar across the bridge of his nose, the one at his temple, to the freckles that littered his tan skin. Wrinkles relaxed as he slept, his plush lips parted slightly. His body sunk into the fabric where he had settled last night, long and lean. His mass so large you had shifted in your sleep to press up against him, partially on him to share the small couch and steal his warmth. His neck bent back a little as his head lulled onto the back cushions.

Your eyes roved down the strong column of his neck, catching on the way his adam’s apple jutted out and you resisted the urge to lean in and nip at it.

His hands, dear god, his hands. They were slack in his lap, his entire body completely lax as he slept slumped beside you. Veins and freckles decorated the skin, mind running with the idea of them tight around different parts of your body. How they would feel wrapped around your hips, your breasts, your neck…

You couldn’t help but reach out and lay a hand atop one of his, your palm over the back of his. Your stomach fluttered, the heat settling low. Your own hand looked so small, atop his. The difference so startling.

“Mm, good mornin’,” Joel’s gravelly rumble made you jump, realizing you had gripped two of his fingers in your hand. He jostled the hand in your grip and you felt heat flood your cheeks at being caught touching him. When you moved to take it back, he curled his fingers, catching your hand and pulling it up to his lips where he pressed his lips to the back of it. “Don’t act all shy now, sweetheart.”

You throb.

The gusset of your underwear suddenly dampens as you clench around nothing.

“I-I don’t know what came over me, you were sleeping and I shouldn’t ha-have-“ Trying to tamp down your less than friendly thoughts, the allure you felt wash over you at his sleepy timbre, to backtrack away from what could end up being another thing to have him avoiding you around the settlement.

But he surprised you, emboldened by the hazy thoughts displayed in the parting of your own lips, the heat he could feel rolling off of you, the pressure you tried to relieve between your legs with a clench of your thighs together. And then his thick, sleep coated words turned sultry, pitched low and velvet.

“Thinkin’ about my hands on ya, huh? Sweet little thing, what was it?” He guided your hand to cup his cheek and then rest against his neck. “Thinkin’ about my hands here?”

When he squeezed your hand around it, you felt faint for the way your blood was rushing and thundering loud in your ears.

“N- no.” You swallowed, voice breathy and pitched low as you struggled to find words.

“No? What about…” He moved your hand to his chest, right in the middle of his ribcage. His heart was thundering beneath the flannel, mirroring your own. “Here?”

Your breath hitched as he moved it further, not giving you the chance to answer this time. Down ,down, down past the hem of his shirt beneath his jacket to the denim of his jeans. Pressing your palm down atop the zipper, you could feel the long line of him, hot and semi-hard. It twitched at the pressure, and you couldn’t help the whimper that fell from your lips. Eyes having been dragged down along with your clasped hands.

“What about here?” His lips grazed the shell of your ear as his question was pressed close, nose brushing sensitive skin just behind it. Mustache and beard lightly scraping against you, causing you to shiver and press down your hand more firmly. He groaned out, the sound burrowing deep into you. He twitched again beneath your palm and all the air in your lungs whooshed out.

And then he was dipping his head to capture your lips in a hard kiss. His tongue trailed over the seam of your lips, and you let him in without a thought. Pleasure flared from the heat that had taken hold of your entire body, the air crackling with the need for him to be closer, to be pressed to you completely, pressed inside of you completely. Body buzzing, needing more more more from him you shift to cup his cheek with your other hand.

When he speaks next, his voice is all soft. Southern twang breathy and so close as his lips graze yours, his forehead pressed to your own. The press of hot skin only a prelude to what you hoped was more…

“Sweetheart, I-“

The sudden creak of the back door opening cut the tension of the room and your stomach filled with dread. Joel’s hands became almost painful on you as both your heads whipped around to stare at the kitchen threshold, waiting with bated breath for the intruding source to walk through it.

He was up off the couch in a second, his handgun in his palm and he stalked silently toward the kitchen, leaving you on the couch to reach for your own. But your attention was pulled to the front door of the house just as he disappeared through the threshold.

Two shadows crept into the house and your ducked down to avoid being seen immediately.

There were sounds of a scuffle in the kitchen and you took the opportunity to sneak around the couch in a crouch and stand with the gun trained on the larger figure of the two just on the other side of it.

“Drop your gun or I shoot.” You kicked his legs apart, hand patting him down as he listened to your command. He didn’t have any other weapons on him and the woman a few feet away didn’t visibly have any, her clothing tight around her middle, large jacket draping over her to keep her swollen middle warm.

You took your eyes off of her for one second to kick the gun away and behind you when she lunged. A shiny piece of something glinted in her hand and you shouted out as it cut across your own middle.

Grunting, you elbowed the man in the ribs, winding him and sending him to crumple to the ground in pain. You kicked out and wrapped your foot around one of the woman’s legs and tugged her close, ignoring the sensation of that same piece of whatever it was in her grip as it tore into your jacket sleeve.

You smacked her hand against the wall behind her, being mindful of her stomach and was about to wrap your hands around her neck when the man wheezed out a pleading cry.

“Don’t hurt her, please!” He tired to catch is breath, but you didn’t break your focus away from the woman you had pinned down. A wave of nausea rose over you, the only indication before you collapsed, blood soaking the front of your shirt in a dark, wet patch.

“Shit, I think you cut her too deep.” The man crawled over to you, his hands pressing down to try and staunch the flow. The woman fell to her knees beside him, her hands reaching out to grip one of your arms. The clatter of the weapon she had used was loud and you looked over to it. It was a piece of dirty glass.

“I-I didn’t me-mean to hurt you so badly! I’m so sorry.”

“Fuck, okay, go to my pack.” They shared a confused look, but the fact that they hadn’t run off with yours and Joel’s supplies to their remorse at hurting you told you they were good people. “Go! There’s a spare shirt, we need it to put over the wound.”

Just as she bent to dig into the pack by the couch, Joel’s quiet steps and low threat called as he entered the room.

“Get your hands off of her and step back.”

“Wait! They aren’t Infected!” You panted, voice sharp despite the effort it was taking to breath as your middle burned, knowing the man’s instincts had taken over completely. His steps measured. His gun raised. His reasoning marred by the sight of you bleeding on the floor.

“They hurt you.” His honeyed drawl gone, replaced with an air of authority that demanded attention, all dark, rich molasses sticking everyone in place.

“It was an accident, Joel, please. They…they have a baby on the way. We have to take them back.”

“That true?” He kept the shot gun aimed at the man hovering over you, the blood shining on his hands making his nerves twitch. But his eyes landed on the woman who had been rummaging through your bag for first aid supplies. She slowly stood from her crouch, revealing her swollen belly.

He ordered them both to take a seat on the couch, telling them he would deal with them once he tended to you, letting them know that he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot if they tried something. He then kneeled down on the ground beside you, one of his large hands going over yours holding the wad of fabric to your middle, the other going to cup your cheek.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” His eyes bore into you, stern edge to them. You were visibly shaking, skin looking sallow and sweat beading at your temple. He carefully moved your hands aside, eyes flicking from your pained expression to the injury as he slowly lifted the fabric you had pressed to it. And then the hem of your sweater and tank top underneath.

Lips a grim line and eyes dark as he took in the still bleeding injury. His brow furrowed deeper as a thick rivulet ran down your side to spill onto the floor and Joel cursed under his breath. The gash was a few inches long across your stomach, to the left of your belly button, rimmed and irritated red. Angry and no doubt already infected if the shard of dirtied glass abandoned beside you was any indication. Your blood stained it, the woman’s fingertips pressed into it in smeared, red marks.

“Shit, it’s already starting to get infected.”

You managed a weak nod, both in response to his question and muttered worries fighting off the tears as he pressed around the wound, trying to get a gauge of how deep it was. You held back a whimper at the prodding, bottom lip firmly between your teeth.

“Joel, there’s gau-gauze in my pack.”

“Find it and toss it to me, quick.” He raised a threatening look to the pair on the couch, their heads turned and watching everything play out. Worried that if you were to bleed out, the man wouldn’t hesitate to retaliate or leave them here to their own devices.

The woman rushed to dig into your pack once more, fingers finding the crinkling plastic wrapped around the sterile gauze. She tossed it to Joel, the hand that had moved down from your cheek to rest over your heart on your chest reached out to snag it from the air. He ripped it open with his teeth and urged your hands to hold it down atop the wound.

You could only watch through hazy eyes as he shucked off his jacket and then his flannel. With a smooth motion he removed his t-shirt, his most base layer. With his chest on full display, the dark hair over his chest and trailing down from his belly button you startled at the sound of ripping fabric. The knife he kept holstered on the back of his waist out of is sheath as he used it to cut a thick strip from the hem of his shirt. He gently urged you to lift up from the ground for him to wind it around your back and tie it securely over the wound.

Slipping two fingers below it to ensure it was tight enough to keep pressure but not overly so as to cause more problems. It felt a thousand times better already, your nausea waning as the blood stopped flowing from your body. But you would definitely need stitches and antibiotics once back inside the gates. Once he was sure the wound was okay for the moment, he took both your hands in his, a slight tremor to them. His thumbs rubbing soothingly across the backs of them.

“Okay, you’re okay,” He murmured. He leaned down to press his forehead to yours. Breathing in deep and your lashes fluttered as he sighed out. His eyes were clenched shut and he took a moment to ground himself before he pulled back and peppered chaste kisses over your face. Your forehead, each of your cheeks, the tip of your nose. The edges of your mouth.

“I’m okay,” You promised, unable to ignore how shaky his breathing was so close. A nervous giggle sounded from you, unable to tamp it down as your head swam. “But maybe you should put your clothes back on before you freeze.”

“Can’t lose you, sweetheart.” The whispered sentiment washed over you, leaving you warm and light in the chest for a completely different reason. Only when you nodded in understanding, did he reach over for his flannel and shrug it back over his broad shoulders. The buttons closed up with deft fingers as he watched you take a mental stock of your body and how it felt. You said up just as his jacket was pulled back into place over the flannel.

“Good thing ‘m not goin’ anywhere then, huh?” His wet chuckle was the only response you got before he helped you to stand. He guided you over the couch with an arm around your shoulders, silently demanding that the pair move from the cushions to make room for you. Making sure you were comfortable with both packs beside you before he turned his attention to the people who had injured you.

A nurse took you in quickly, insisting someone else would do a thorough check on the brother and sister you and Joel had brought to them once leaving the horses at the stables. The backup shirt you had taken along with you in your pack tied to your abdomen with a scrap of fabric from the bottom of Joel’s undershirt. It was better than nothing, better than bleeding out.

You had insisted that the woman, Callie carefully got up on Lowry for the trip back. Joel had been worried about them sharing a horse together, the very real possibility of them taking off on it at the forefront of his mind. But you had assured him that they could be trusted. That they could’ve taken both your packs and left you to bleed out on the floor.

That was how you had found yourself once again sharing a horse with Joel for an entire day. The feel of his body pressed close to your back so different from when he had tried to keep his distance. His hands secure around your waist and resting atop the saddle horn. You tried not to let it distract you, carrying on casual conversation with them to get a feel for who they were. Every so often, when you grunted at particularly hard hoofbeats or a rough jostle, his right hand would press against your roughly patched wound.

Stitches, the nurse had said. At least four of them.

Joel was outside the hall, waiting for you to be released. He looked up from the notepad in his hands when you exited the room, brown eyes tired. You couldn’t read his thoughts, though you were too tired to begin to think what that could mean.

“Hey, what’d they say?” He surged up, the notebook going back into his pocket, the worn fabric snug around it. He retrieved the coat and sweater he had kept for you when the nurse had asked you to remove all outer layers.

You lifted the torn tank top, allowing him to see the clean, bright white bandage that had been taped over the injury. The fait outline of stitches could be seen through it. Two of his fingers brushed against it, almost tenderly.

“No painkillers, those are only for serious cases.” You let him help you put the sweater back on, his hands holding the head opening side for you to slid it on, gently tugging the fabric into place around your sore arms. “They gave me a shot of antibiotics and a pack of fresh gauze. Gotta come in next week to get the stitches looked at.”

“I’m so sorry.” He murmured as he held the coat up for your to slip your arms into. When you turned around to face him again, he pulled you to him in a loose embrace. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“Joel, it’s okay. We’re okay. I promise.” You leaned up, mindful of the new pull on your middle, and pressed your lips to his cheek. Sighing at the soft pressure, he walked alongside you out of the building.

Since there wasn’t anything they could give you for the pain, you just wanted to lay in bed and rest. But you also wanted to try and find a reason to get out of the house later. Swallowing down your fear of rejection, knowing he was the one person who wouldn’t do that to you, you asked him for a drink later in the evening.

But he didn’t look up from the paper in his hands as he walked out the front door with you, scribbling something down on a page that only had two previous lines of script. The chill of the wind breezing past you both as you repeated your question in slightly louder volume, sure he just hadn’t heard you. You knew he was hard of hearing in his right ear and that was the side you were on. But what you didn’t expect was his haphazard response. So at odds with the tenderness and care he had shown you throughout the day.

"Huh? Oh uh, I can't tonight. Sorry, I'll see ya, Olive." And then he's off without so much as a glance your way, leaving you standing outside the infirmary. It left you more than a little concerned, whiplash at the sudden shift from intimate, to protective, to nothing so much as a glance all from the same man.

It’s early, the sun not even showing signs of rising. Snow drifted down, a perfect morning. You were humming to yourself, mentally planning out the meals you could make. A breakfast casserole that would allow for the use of root vegetables, eggs, some of the goat cheese that had been made perhaps. You were minding your own business, enjoying the walk to the mess hall and the kitchen that would allow you to work and forget the hollow feeling that hadn’t left you all last night. It was easier feeling nothing other than the faint pull of stitches on your abdomen.

You catch a figure walking out of a front door further down the street. The figure broad but their steps light as they descended the porch to Marsha’s house.

Oh.

It was Joel.

He didn’t have a utility belt, he didn’t have a toolbox, he didn’t have anything that indicated he had been there to repair something.

It was Joel Miller, leaving Marsha’s house. Far too early to mean anything other than the fact that he had spent the night inside, with her. Guess that's why he had turned down your offer for an evening with you. He already had someone to share drinks with, someone to spend his time with.

Turning, you tried not to follow his figure as he began to walk down the street, facing away from you.

You could only think that it was because of the way you had run the other night. Because of the way you two kept giving into yearning touches only for the moment to be yanked away. Three times now, far too much trouble for someone as busy as him. Someone with a life like he led as he cared for his family and the repairs that were needed around the settlement. You were desperate, for company, for attention, for him. It must’ve not settled well with him to realize how much you wanted him and that it never seemed to work out in his favor, only friend or not.

Deep down, you knew that wasn’t the reason. He was such an understanding man, and he wouldn’t put the blame on you. But the fact of the matter was that he was willingly spending his time with Marsha.

He wasn’t sure where you had disappeared to, your house dark safe for the light over the stoop light up in a warm tone. He had a box in his hands, something he had rifled through his, Ellie’s, and Tommy’s homes for to fit the finished set of wooden utensils you had asked him to make.

He had taken his time, sneaking glances at the ones in your kitchen when he dropped you off after patrol one morning and you offered him a light lunch. You had made grilled sandwiches, pairing them with some steamed vegetables that were beginning to wilt in the cold air of the house. You ran the heat on a good middle range, to ensure it didn’t get too stuffy and begin to take a toll on the record collection in the living room or the books you kept on every surface and crammed lovingly into the many bookshelves you had.

You seemed to favor spoons, though he did catch sight of a few rather flat spatulas. He had inspected the wood thoroughly before he even thought of measuring it. Admiring the way the dried wood looked and taking notes down on the pad of paper he kept on him at all times. Compared it to the two planks he had, noting the different feel and heft of them versus the completely dry specimen you had brought to him.

He let his thoughts wander as he took a seat on the cold concrete steps of your stoop. Opting to wait for your return for a few moments, hoping that you would return soon as evening had fallen, the set having set a few hours ago. He didn’t recall you mentioned evening shifts at the mess hall, opting for the mornings that you enjoyed. Something about the quiet of the town, less lonely than the nights, had been a quiet admittance. He had been too shocked to respond, you must’ve taken his silence as the end of the conversation. You had turned quiet alongside him, the only sound for the rest of the route back to the gates had been the hooves along the ground.

It struck him now, that you had been admitting even early on how lonely you were. How the town choosing to not interact with you had hurt, had been hurting you. A warning even then, that you were sensitive to the dynamic and went along with it even if you didn’t agree with it. You were such a lovely person. Kind hearted, giving, caring, and he loathed that people like Marsha perpetuated the agenda against you.

She was relentless in her attention on him and he was getting a little annoyed with it. But he was being cordial, the exact word you had used to describe the woman. He had finished the last of her shelving the other day. He had worked overnight to get it fitted and fastened to the wall. Securing it with bolts and weight holding supports, wanting to be done with the project that had been more of a coercion of his skills. She was a manipulator and he had played into her hands just like she had wanted.

He felt like a fool, knowing he had agreed to do it for your sake and out of a need to protect you.

Then he realized there were two people who allowed you into their lives. That spoke fondly of you, invited you to dinner, allowed you shares of what they could get the last of in down on main street.

Standing, he hoped to find you among his family. Making his way his way to Tommy’s, Maria was the one to answer the door. A finger to her lips to signal him to keep quiet as she slipped out the door to join him on the porch.

“They’re both sleeping, it took an hour to get him down and then of course Tommy slumped over.” She didn’t seem upset, but the news allowed for Joel to realize you weren’t here either. Clocking his silence and the box in his hand, she cocked her head up a little to examine his features. “Everything okay, Joel? Olive didn’t pull her stitches already, did she?”

“Yeah, everythin’ is okay. I’m actually looking for her. Have you seen her today?” He shuffled on his feet, aware of how they ached as the cold settled in to stay for the season.

“She’s at the bar, came by with dinner for us on her way out.” Maria explained, watching his closely. Able to pick up on his agitation. It was odd when she compared it to the almost forces nonchalance you had exhibited earlier.

“Can you hold onto this for me, I’ll be back to get it tomorrow.” He thrusted the box into the woman’s hands and was making off down the street before she could even respond.

The bar is a cacophony of sounds, of laughter, of conversation, the clink of glasses being lifted and then placed back on tables. The gurgle of more drinks being poured, of ice tinkling in glasses, all of it was so nice to just sit in and enjoy. Even if you were alone on your stool.

"Another round?" You disguised the clenching of your hand around your empty glass, the voice right behind you. His voice, the charming drawl pitched low and so so close.

“I don’t think we should be drinking with each other.” You shifted away from him, not wanting him to think you were open to spending time with him after his rejection, after his secret of seeing Marsha was exposed to you in the form of his leaving her house far too early for any reason than having stayed the night, for the way you had wanted to say yes to spending time with him but it hurt too much. For the way that it was getting harder and harder to resist the urge to lean up and kiss him, to run your hand down his arm or back in a soothing caress. “I’m waiting for someone.”

His brow furrowed as he regarded you, lifting his drink to his lips and taking a deep pull from the amber liquid inside. He sat down atop the stool beside you despite your words. His glass settled on the bar top, now empty. Your eyes were focused on the melting ice, not able to look at the man who was giving you his attention.

“What’s that?” He huffed, almost chuckled as he believed you were just joking, teasing him like you tended to do sometimes while out on patrol. But you weren’t, both of you seated at the long bar of the Tipsy Bison on the main street in town. When you still didn’t raise your eyes to him, he realized you weren’t, that you were turning him down and away.

“Tell me the real reason,” He leaned close, pivoting the seat of the stool so you faced him. Your insides whooshed with the movement. With the way he demanded your attention, with the entirety of his focus on you almost breaking your resolve to remain professional. Aware of all the eyes constantly watching you, judging you; all the eyes on him constantly watching for entirely different reasons, fawning over him.

“Because I like you.” You admitted, unable to deny him the truth. You could only lift your eyes as high as his lips, which was a mistake as you recalled the feel of them. They were so soft, so plush and you never had the chance to gently nip at his bottom one…

“Well, I like you too, Olive.” His nose brushed your cheek, moving impossibly close, his thumbs digging into your thighs as he held to the stool.

“No, I like you, Joel. And this isn’t a good idea.” You pulled back, aware that you were both in a very public place. That the looks focused on you both, your intimacy, combined with soft murmurs of voices that could be saying anything. Making notions in their minds that he was associated with you, that he spent time with you enough to feel comfortable engaging in this type of behavior. And that was bad, it was so bad for people to associate him with you. It would cause people to question him after everything he did for the town. It would begin to erase all the good he had provided. “Joel, people are looking.”

“Don’t worry about them, just focus on me.” Your eyes snapped to his, taking in the way the brown of them was alight from the sconces around the bar. There was no hesitancy in them, no remorse. Only adoration and your stomach swooped, your heart fluttered. But you tried your best to resist.

“That’s not a good idea either.” You whispered.

“You thinkin’ of doin’ somthin’ to me?”

“M-maybe.” The admittance rolls off your tongue, his lips close enough that he can taste it.

“Sweetheart, I’d let ya if that’s what you wanted.”

“N-no.” It took everything in you to deny him, to deny the tension that pulled your muscles tight in every part of your body.

“No?” He leaned back, taking your words and heeding them, sensing that you meant them, even if it was a stuttered, breathy response.

“I don’t want to, I mean I do, but- this” You motioned between the two of you, how little space there was between your bodies. His body pivoted toward you and his hands still partially around the denim of your thighs. “Isn’t a good idea.”

His eyes roamed over you, seeing the nerves and truth of your demeanor. You did like him, and it was becoming a problem. He didn’t need a younger woman fawning over him, the friendly rapport riddled with holes. Of temptations that were tamped down by his unwillingness to share his craft with you, the time he had been spending with Marsha, the pull of his attention in so many directions, especially with the holiday hurtling toward the town tomorrow.

“We’re hardly friends, Miller. You barely started acknowledging me outside of patrol.” You reached for your drink so you’d be less likely to cup his face in your hands and throw caution to the wind.

“What makes you think I haven’t been tryin’ to keep my hands to myself, bein’ around you?” His voice tipped low, to avoid being overheard despite the closeness he had initiated. Closing your eyes at the visual, you shook you head as your throat bobbed with the sip you had taken from your drink.

“Because you don’t like me that way.” You scoffed, beginning to lean away from him. “You didn’t even get me anything for the holiday…You’re with Marsha.”

“Didn’t get your name in swap.”

“Oh.” And all the fight you had in you crumbled at his simple words. The reassurance in his voice that drowned out the hum of the environment all around you.

“But I thought - Ellie was asking so many questions I figured she was doin’ the work for you.”

“Maybe she got you?” He tapped the lip of his glass as the bartender wandered close, signaling for another when the man got the chance. His hand going back to your leg in a second.

“N-no. She got Jesse. Whoever got me most likely tossed the scrap of paper and picked another.”

“Marsha and I are just friendly, it’s nothing beyond that. Olive, I swear to –“

Someone cleared their throat unnervingly close. You both turned away from each other to face the person who had decided to break the currents flowing between your bodies, tension thick in the air with their approach.

Marsha. With a wrapped gift in her hand and a yearning look for Joel. Her attention solely on him.

“So much for just being friendly, huh, Miller?” You set your drink down, glass nearly empty and pushed off from your stool. The drag of his large hands over the tops of your thighs not registering as you quickly took off. Leaving him to the woman who seemed to be a constant companion as of late. Better company for him, you though begrudgingly as you made your way through the snow-covered streets and back to the safety of your home.

Sighing, you picked up the wrapped bundle of recipe cards. Joel’s gift.

The one you had spent hours pouring over, making sure your writing was neat and legible, the cursive loops delicately over the lines on the thick cardstock. You had debated whether or not he would be able to read the script, knowing how he squinted at certain things. No doubt needing glasses in his older age, an item you always kept a keen eye out for should it end up being a perfect match for him.

Your heart panged, the fleeting image of him tucked in bed beside you with a book or manual in his hands and a pair of reading glasses perched on his aquiline nose. His scruff catching the light of a soft bedside lamp and the silver sparkling. His curls damp from an evening shower, the scent of him so clean and pure beside you as you lay tucked in the other side. It hurt. It hurt to think you would never get to experience that, experience him in every simple, mundane way.

With a long-suffering huff, you reached for some of the dried leaves you kept from the trees when you last preened them. Fastening it to the top of the bundle with a piece of twine. You don’t write Joel’s nor yours. He would know it was from you from the writing inside, from the olive twig. A parting gift, you guessed.

This would be the last thing you would offer him before drawing back to your solemn life. He had brought color and life and laughter into it, but the hurt wasn’t worth it. Your heart and body aching for a man who had too much to lose.

You faintly heard soft voices trailing along the dark streets, the light fixtures doing their best to illuminate the way for any one who was out at the late hour. The sky dark with the added overcast that hadn’t waned during the day. Making everything feel pressed down and low, condensing the world to make it feel almost suffocating. Snow soft as it descended. Maybe it was just you, sensitive to the weather and things around you in your anxiety as you turned down the street Joel’s house was nestled on. Just as you turned the corner, feet scuffing on the weathered gravel packed down to create solid paths in the broken asphalt you collided with something hard and lost your balance. The built up snow making it hard to catch yourself.

The scrunch of paper you had wrapped the gift in was loud, ripping at the drag of thick fabric that made up someone’s coat. The index cards fly up into the air as you landed heavily on your side. Through the sounds of the fluttering paper, there was a gasp pitched high that gave way to delirious giggles and a grunt pitched low. Your own indignant noise floating amidst it all, the pull of your stitches uncomfortable.

“My apologies, didn’t see you the- Olive?”

You had run into Joel’s broad back, his front now facing you as the cards rained down to scatter all over the corner. Snow dampening them instantly upon contact, blurring the ink you had taken the time to put down to them.

Behind him was a bright-eyed Marsha, her hands holding tight to one of his. She looked flushed, no doubt from the drinks she had indulged in, leaning heavily into him. And Joel…he looked shocked as he stared down at your fallen form. Either unaware or uncaring of how the woman he was with tried to burrow into his side.

They had been the ones whose voices you heard. But what had they been doing just standing still in the middle of the street….and then it hit you. They had probably been kissing or sharing in casual touches as they walked back from the bar to one of their homes for the evening and your stomach lurched, dropping out from under you.

Joel detached from her, intending to reach down and help you back up. But you didn’t want him touching you with the same hands that had been soft just an hour ago, the same hands that had been touching her with the same intent.

“Don’t!”

“Just tryin’ to help you up,” He backed off immediately, his eyes alert, not used to you raising your voice nor the heat behind your tone. Especially toward him, the hurt making you unable to tamp it down to a polite tone. Tears burned behind your own eyes, in your throat. The perfect match to your insides feeling like they have just been set in a mixer.

“Don’t need your help,” You pushed up from the ground, legs tingling as you fought the urge to run from the awkward and tense scene. And then you realized you could. You did.

Leaving the two alone in the middle of the street, surrounded by white spots of paper all around, the wrapping that had been around them crumpled on the ground. The dried olive leaves that had been fastened to it with twine lay abandoned at their feet.

You ran all the way back to your house, the front door slamming behind you and the lock loud in the silence that followed. Your back thumped against the wood of it, sliding down until your bottom hit the floor.

And you let yourself break down, crying into your hands. Hating how you had begun to believe that your life was going to change, that Joel was going to be something good in your life. And deep down, underneath all the hurt and anger, you still believed he was. Even if he wasn’t meant to be anything other than a patrol partner.

previous chapter || next chapter

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics and @cafekitsune

taglist: @merz-8 @morning-star-joy @joelsgreys @orcasoul @sawymredfox @sabmat @dreamingofleon @keylimebeag @pascalpvnk @picassopedro @tuquoquebrute @alejaa-a @jessthebaker @littlemisspascal @joeloverture @joelscruff @swiftispunk @tightjeansjavi @undercoverpena @idontknowyou-12345 @corazondebeskar @honeyedmiller @novas-dreamworld @slugz-writes-shit @fluff-lover @hiroikegawa @dugiioh @persephone-girl @furiousmushroom @communism-bitches @formulafun @copperhalfcent @lizlil @hiddenbabynyc @ohhellotherebumblebee

360 notes · View notes

blasphemousclaw · 4 months ago

Note

*spots another Vengeance-Seeking Hornsent fan through looking at the tags in fav SoTE NPC poll* I am still seeing "he was a potentate himself because of the mask" claims here and there 😔 I honestly think he is wearing the mask for its actual function: to ward off the doubts and other things that make you lose focus, since he must keep his mind fixed on revenge. Besides he comes from Belurat and not Bonny Village (revealed if you share scorpion soup with him) and his trademark weapon implies he only grabbed a sword for revenge and didn't wield weapon before, let alone their butchering knife

These are just what I think. What do you think about him and the "discourse" though? Do you lean strongly to this or that side or neutral on both takes?

HORNSENT NATION

OK so I was always kind of kind of torn between whether I believed he was a greater potentate or not, but I was leaning towards him being a potentate… BUT then after you sent this I went on a deep dive to see if I could prove either theory, and what I found really made feel like he WASN’T a potentate???

I went through like every possible source of info in the game and listed all the possible interpretations so I’m gonna list a bunch of it here with my conclusion:

Bonny Butcher’s Cleaver: “An outsize butcher's cleaver used to dismember human bodies in the making of the great jars stored in the gaols.”

Hefty Cracked Pot: “The greater potentates of Bonny Village craft these and store them in a frozen gaol.”

From these items we learn that the jars are exclusively made at Bonny Village from dismembered shamans, are transported to the gaols, and stored there under freezing temperatures probably so the innards don’t spoil, like a giant fridge?? Then, we learn from the Belurat Gaol spirit that misbehaving prisoners are added to the shaman jars there, where their flesh “melds harmoniously” together. So the greater potentates only operate at Bonny Village, and I think it’s also implied that only Bonny Village natives are potentates:

“A record of crafting techniques of the greater potentate who roamed lands near and far. Haunted by the grotesque practice of his village of birth, he stuffed great pots with all manner of things.” (Greater Potentate Cookbooks)

It seems like being a greater potentate is kind of like, a family business, since the practice is strictly localized to the one village and this particular guy was basically born into the profession there even though he found it ghoulish. So I’m doubting that outsiders from other places became potentates?

If Hornsent is a potentate, he’d probably have to be from Bonny Village, or at the very least, live there… and like you said, I think the game is screaming that he’s from Belurat! Freyja has this to say about him:

“Do you know why the eternally dour fellow keeps his distance? He’s one of the tower’s Hornsent. I can only assume he fights for his own reasons, and carries his own burdens.”

I feel like this almost certainly means that Hornsent is from Belurat because Freyja specifically says “the tower.” Freyja and Hornsent are also standing right in front of the Belurat gate when you get this dialogue. There’s also the scorpion stew interaction with him:

Scorpion Stew: “Scorpion simmered in a black soup. Traditional meal of the hornsent. […] Once made with love by a certain elderly woman for the family table. Having long gone cold, this soup gives off a rank, sour smell.”

Hornsent says this when you give it to him:

“What’s this? Do you think me in need of alms? Ah… but this dish. Tis fare o’ the tower. I remember fondly this kin-clad scent. …Brings back memories I’d all but forgot. This, by my troth, is but a dismal copy. Indeed, I think it rather plain to see… things once broken can never be the same.”

So I don’t think scorpion stew is exclusive to Belurat by any means, since there’s many other Hornsent settlements, but I think it means something that Hornsent immediately thinks of the Tower when he sniffs the stew. I also think that him pondering this theme of “things once broken” makes the most sense in the context of Belurat… you can give Hornsent the stew only after traversing all of Belurat, beating Divine Beast, and talking to Hornsent Grandam, so you’ve seen Belurat’s ruins with your own eyes and learned that it was once a place where families cooked and ate scorpion stew together. That really resonates with Hornsent’s vengeance in the name of his murdered mother, wife, and child! Him having lived through what happened to Belurat personally just makes sense!

Ok so why does Hornsent wear the potentate mask??

I think you’re right that he’d only be wearing it for its ritual purposes:

Caterpillar Mask: “Grotesque mask constructed from countless solidified caterpillars. A ritual implement of the greater potentates of Bonny Village. Used to ward off thoughts of impurity, doubt, temptation, and other wickednesses one is vulnerable to while absorbed in divine ritual.”

Makes sense that potentates would want to banish any feelings of doubt or temptation or any other distractions when their job is to kill and dismember people… which is a sentiment that absolutely applies to Hornsent’s goals as a vengeance-seeker. Also, the jar-making is described as a “divine ritual,” and the act of seeking revenge also seems really ritualistic? Hornsent’s robe is created specifically for the purpose of vengeance:

Braided Cord Robe: “Ragged black cloth overlaid with braided cord. Attire of a vengeance-seeking hornsent. The braided cord ties together the vow of the revenger with the victims' grudges. It must never come undone. Enhances both watchful spirits and the vengeful spirits summoned by horned bairns.”

Does this not feel like a sort of ritualistic, divine invocation of revenge? Hornsent also forges new blades specifically for his vengeance, and repeats the phrase “In vengeance for the flames, my blade I wield” several times, like a mantra. Thematically, I think Hornsent wearing the potentate mask is drawing a link between the Bonny Village butchering, and the endless, bloody path of revenge that eventually leads Hornsent to ruin; both of these acts are in a way like ritually-sanctioned butchery. So while Hornsent might not literally be a potentate himself, the game wants us to THINK of the ritual violence that the potentates carry out when we look at Hornsent!

So overall I don’t think any of these arguments can like, 100% definitively prove that Hornsent wasn’t a potentate because there’s a few assumptions I made that teeeechnically might not be true (like that only Bonny Village natives are greater potentates, or that “the tower” always specifically refers to Belurat), but I now think that it makes the most sense if he isn’t a potentate!

#asks #elden ring #hornsent #i loved hornsent even when i really thought he was a potentate this debate doesnt sway my opinion on him at all #best npc… hes so compelling he has so much pathos #ok also I saw people saying that his face data looking almost exactly the same as the potentates means he was one but like #the madding hand also looks to be a variation on the same face #i think they just used the same character data to make all the hornsent npcs

62 notes · View notes

unlawfulgames · 10 months ago

Text

Gourmet Street: Dungeon Meshi meets God of Cookery

With Dungeon Meshi being in public eye again with the Netflix series, I thought it would be a good time to shoutout again about Gourmet Street, my free (tips appreciated) Street Food Fantasy zine! Big thanks to our wonderful artist and layout man @feralindiecharlie

A New Setting! - Gourmet Street, a collection of scattered and bizarrely connected alleyways, it seems to pop up in any settlement large enough to begin thinking of itself as a city. Stacked high in wood carts, laid out on intricate rugs, swimming in a myriad of sauces, food is the name of the game on Gourmet Street.

ONE MILLION Food Vendors and Menus! - Never eat the same thing twice! Generate from 8,000 possible unique food vendors and LITERALLY ONE MILLION possible dishes; ranging from Soft-shelled Crabman Sandwiches with Tzatziki sauce and Egg Coffee, to Myconid Zapiekanka in Pesto with a shot of Absinthe!

Food Factions! - From the hyper-radical (and slightly deranged) Neuvo Gastro-Alchemists, to the fanatical and militant Vinegar Knights, the food factions each come with their own wants, goals, and boons, IF you choose to serve them...

A One-Page Adventure: ESCAPE FROM GOURMET STREET! Help a pair (or trio) of star-crossed lovers escape from Gourmet Street in a Snake-and-Ladders inspired chase! Fend off rival lovers, food cart brawls and escaped dishes as you dash through the alleys of Gourmet Street!

And More! Monsters, magic items, and cookbooks for both Players and GMs to use and abuse!

224 notes · View notes

mariacallous · 2 months ago

Text

Apples dipped in honey and honey cakes are popular across the Jewish world around Rosh Hashanah. But if you grew up in Israel, you most likely came across a unique variation of honey treats: duvshaniyot. These dense, dark, round honey cookies are a must in many families’ High Holidays nosh rotation.

The modest duvshaniyot (their name derives from the Hebrew word dvash, meaning honey) seem to have been part of the Israeli repertoire forever and you can find them on the cookie shelves in every supermarket in the country. They are cheap, pareve and last forever, so no wonder they have become a regular for Rosh Hashanah afternoon tea, for breaking the fast on Yom Kippur, and for dipping in a cold glass of milk in the sukkah. But these unassuming cookies hold a long history, as most Jewish and Israeli dishes do.

Duvshaniyot are the Israeli adaptation of a popular Russian cookie called pryaniki. Dating back to medieval Russia, pryaniki were made with honey, rye flour and berry juice, and were known simply as “honey bread.” Starting around the 12th or 13th centuries, when Russia started opening up to imports from the Middle East and India, spices and dried fruit were added to the cookie. In different regions throughout Russia, people experimented with new additions to this cookie, from jam filling to a later invention of sweetened condensed milk. Some versions were imprinted using delicate wooden forms, and some were simply rolled by hand and dipped in sugar glaze — the same version that’s still popular in Israel today.

People sometimes confuse pryaniki with German lebkuchen (aka gingerbread cookies), but it is rare to see ginger added to these classic Russian cookies, and even lebkuchen don’t always have ginger in them. Traditionally, pryaniki were spiced with cinnamon, nutmeg, cardamom, coriander, and even black pepper and cumin. In fact, their name, pryaniki, comes from the Russian word for spiced, pryanik.

Different versions of pryaniki can be found around Eastern Europe, like piernik in Poland and lect cookies in Slovenia, which are heart-shaped, painted red and artfully decorated with colorful icing. These Eastern European versions were traditionally served around Christmas, but were adapted by Jews for their own holidays, mainly Rosh Hashanah, for the use of the symbolic honey.

From Eastern Europe, the little honey cookie made its way to Israel and the United States. “The Settlement Cook Book,” a classic 1901 American Jewish cookbook by Lizzie Black Kander, includes two versions of lebkuchen, both with citrus and almonds, but no ginger. Even more interesting, is that neither include honey, but instead call for brown sugar or molasses.

An early Israeli cookbook, “Folklore Cookbook” by Molly Bar-David, has recipes for honey cookies that are similar to pryaniki and for lebkuchen. Bar-David suggests adding ginger to the honey cookies and calls for margarine instead of butter, maybe to keep the cookies pareve.

Today, Israeli manufacturers of duvshaniyot must be doing a good job, as I notice the same Israeli brand cookies at many Russian stores in the United States. But maybe because duvshaniyot are readily available in every supermarket, most Israelis do not prepare them at home. That’s a shame, because as is the case with most baked goods, homemade is better. And when the recipe is as easy as the one below, there’s no reason not to.

You can add any of the classic gingerbread cookie spices (cinnamon, nutmeg, cardamom, coriander, clove, and even black pepper and cumin) as well as cocoa powder, strong coffee or chopped chocolate. Candied citrus peel or any tart candied fruit, as well as citrus zest. You can try to replace some of the flour with rye flour to be closer to the original Russian version, or replace some of the flour with almond meal and make it closer to the German lebkuchen. It’s up to you.

Some recipes, including centuries-old recipes, suggest letting the dough rest for a few hours and up to a week before baking the cookies. This will deepen its flavors and will make rolling the dough easier. But even if you bake it right away, the cookies will improve with time, so I suggest baking them at least two days before serving. You can easily prepare them the week before Rosh Hashanah and then serve them for break the fast on Yom Kippur.

Notes:

The cookie dough needs to chill in the refrigerator, or up to overnight.

The cookies will improve with time, so I suggest baking them at least two days before serving, though you can keep them in a sealed container at room temperature up to a month.

24 notes · View notes

lost-technology · 10 months ago

Text

A Century-Old Cookbook

Ace Trigun Week Prompt 5: Food as a Love-Language Vash's mind carried over a century of recipes. There was always a special one he'd make for anyone who had broken down his barriers.

A Century-Old Cookbook Milly took a deep sniff as she entered the rental-cabin, returning from a trip to the post office to mail off reports. “Oh, is Mr. Vash cooking again?” she asked. Meryl looked up from her hunched position over her portable typewriter on the main room table. “He hasn’t stopped cooking since we unpacked.” “He really likes to, doesn’t he?” “Fine by me,” Wolfwood said, wandering in from the back bedroom, taking a drag on a cheap cigarette. “Do you have to smoke in here?” Meryl complained, “Go outside.” “What’s he making?” Milly asked. “And yes, Mr. Priest, you really should go outside. It’s not good for any of us.” Wolfwood grumbled as he stubbed out his cigarette in an ashtray. “At least Needle Noggin makes the best fried rice on the planet.” “Oh, is that what we’re having?” “It’s ready!” Vash came in from the kitchen with a heaping bowl of his signature dish in one hand and a stack of plates in the other. The aromas of toma-egg, fermented sauce, Geoplant-grown green onion and salty canned meat (probably from leftover tins from the spacefaring age - they were the cheapest one could get) filled the air. “All right! Let’s eat!” Milly chimed. “Are you going to say grace, Mr. Priest?” Wolfwood gave her a chuckle, sidling next to her at the table as Meryl put her typewriter away to make room for a plate. “Good grub, good meat, good God, let’s eat!” he joked, dramatically penting his hands. “This is good,” Meryl admitted between spoonfuls, looking up to Vash. “How did you learn to make it this way?” “A lot of…practice?” Vash said sheepishly. A memory came to his mind of when he was small, his brother at his side, both staring in wonderment at a frying pan as Rem was behind them, praising Vash for how well he was tossing a mess of rice in it – the fluidity of his wrist, getting the toss just right. She praised Knives for his work with the soy sauce and a spoon. She told them that this was a skill that would serve them their entire lives. Teaching them to cook was a part of her inducting them into becoming grown-ups. To this day, Vash remembered his meals on the SEEDS ships, the ones that Rem had prepared for him before she saw fit to induct him into the secret-adult-knowledge of the kitchen. He was surprised he wasn’t a chubby little kid. Rem had been an excellent cook. Vash had cooked many meals for himself and others over the years – most of them lonely out in the desert wilds. Some were simple – nasty half-rotten meat scavenged from worm carcasses made marginally-edible over campfires kindled from the same worms’ chitin and skin that he ate for no reason other than staying alive in desperation. Some were complex, using Plant-manufactured raw materials and even, after a time, the grown crops some of the settlements had managed to wrestle out of the poor land. He’d worked in taverns as he traveled town to town, picking up whatever odd jobs he could, first under his own name and then under many assumed names when his bad luck caught up to him. As a result, Vash knew many old recipes – some going way back to Old Earth while most were improvised for the times and the environment, either by the humans who were making their way here or self-invented. Vash was a living example of a century-old cookbook. He listened to the blissful sounds of his companions at the table as they ate. He smiled. That fried rice that Rem taught him to make was the favorite dish he knew to make for people he loved. Inspired by this comic by @goathag

#trigun #trigun maximum #vash the stampede #nicholas d wolfwood #meryl stryfe #milly thompson #rem saverem #ace trigun week #ace trigun week 2024

26 notes · View notes

mostmouse · 2 years ago

Text

The One Chosen by Arceus

Chapter 6, Adaman x F!Reader (suggestive, 6,600 words)

You and Adaman enjoy a cozy night in.

The sounds of dishes and laughter surrounded both you and Adaman. He had come over shortly after you returned from the Alabaster Icelands, and part of you wondered if he was keeping track of you. You hadn’t had time to dwell on it however, as he had come bearing gifts - a recipe book he had been working on during his time as a student with Beni.

The cookbook was set up against the wall, the two of you collecting what you needed and standing side by side preparing the meal. You had worked previously to make noodles, and you couldn’t help how excited you were to finish and try everything. Adaman grinned next to you, bumping you with his hip, “C’mon, don’t let me catch you drooling in the food, you gotta be patient.”

You whined playfully, “It smells so good! I can’t believe you’ve studied with Beni enough to make a little cookbook! And you’re insanely good as a teacher, too!” You hummed happily, leaning over and breaching his personal space to sniff what he was working on. “It smells amazing… I’m so excited for it to be done already!”

The Diamond Clan leader laughed next to you, continuing to whisk the sauce before adding in more spices and oil. “No patience with you… You wouldn’t last two minutes in a lesson with Beni.” At that, the two of you bumped each other, grinning and snickering. Adaman had regaled you with somewhat unbelievable stories of studying with older man.

Apparently the two of them would forage for the ingredients, prepare some aspects of the meal, sit and have tea, finish preparing, and begin cooking. However, Beni apparently had strict rules while sharing his kitchen.

Adaman’s hair had to be tied back into a tight bun - understandable. He couldn’t wear his haori - understandable. No bindings on his arm and hands - odd, but understandable. He had to learn how to cut and prepare vegetables, roots, fruits, and berries while blindfolded, apparently to ‘feel’ the ingredients - dangerous, not exactly understandable. But worse of all, Adaman said, was that he had to watch Beni serve up all the food he had made and only let him have a tiny bit of it.

In the beginning it wasn’t so bad, since they hadn’t been masterpieces, but once he was really getting good at it in the months after the red sky, it became more and more painful to not be able to chow down on as much as he wanted. However, it had been an ego boost to see the people of Jubilife Village enjoy his creations with enthusiasm.

After learning and mastering some different dishes from Beni, Adaman had headed straight back to the Diamond settlement to teach everyone there. He, of course, didn’t adhere to some of the more bizarre rules Beni had enforced, but he was thankful for the lessons all the same, as it also taught him patience in the process of preparing food. Not to mention, he was incredibly talented with a knife now.

You were almost jealous watching him expertly cut up the materials, dicing and mincing as if it were second nature. He had yet to hurt himself as well. You couldn’t help the affection swelling in your heart, your partner was talented in so many ways you couldn’t hope to count them all. Smiling, you hummed quietly and continued your portion of the meal prepping.

Adaman had shown you how to shuck, husk, and peel apart a variety of produce and veggies, showing you how to utilize the side of the knife as well as the blade. You were thankful for his guidance, but had loved how he stood behind you, pressed tight to your back to show you. With your average knowledge from your time as well, you had thought it would be easier than it was.

However, to your disappointment, new aged foods were somehow softer and easier to work with, not to mention all the preprocessing they went through. You had to do a lot more work than you thought with the fruit and veg of this time. You had realized after his presentation, that your signature dish of stew could probably be a lot better. You had also realized that you had a new fear that your friends were only acting like they loved your food. You resolved to do better and knock their socks off the next time they came around.

Blinking your inner monologue away, you peered over at Adaman to see how he was doing. He was responsible for preparing the meat and sauce for tonight's meal. You hopped on the tips of your toes, unable to contain your excitement. It wasn’t the first time Adaman had made dinner for you, but it was the first time the two of you were doing it together.

You couldn’t help as the warmth of domestic intimacy flooded your body. You could see you and Adaman doing this every night, spending time together, preparing dinner, relaxing afterwards, then bathing and sleeping together. You smiled dreamily, humming louder.

Adaman turned slightly, watching you as you got lost in your own world, and smiled gently. You had enraptured his heart, the source of all his thoughts and dreams. There wasn’t a moment that went by in his life now that he didn’t think of you, either directly or just idly. Sighing contentedly, he moved to drop the fish into the pan of oil, frying it while he finished the sauce, moving it to a smaller bowl for easy use.

He admired your work while you grinned proudly. “Hey, this looks good! Thank you so much for helping.” Kissing your forehead, he collected your ingredients, placing them in another pan with less oil. Dumping in some of the excess sauce, he tossed them around a little. You leaned over the counter, openly admiring him with a lovestruck look on your face.

Catching your eye, Adaman blushed slightly, smirking as he made more of a show with his maneuvers. He wasn’t worried about losing any of it, or spilling it all as he worked. He had shown off plenty in the settlement, making all his mistakes there surrounded by his people. No, this show was to impress you, to make you fall in love with him, to realize how amazing it was to be here with him.

The seed of doubt that he had spoken aloud to Melli still haunted him. Once he had returned to his home, he had crafted a plan to make you stay in Hisui. He would love bomb you, show you how amazing everything was, how amazing he was, and how terrific the land was. You had explored every part of Hisui within close range, had gotten to know the people, and had begun a relationship with him.

Adaman needed you to stay when the time came, he needed you to choose him wholeheartedly, without a regret in your heart. With new resolve in his soul, he tilted his head towards you, “Could you hand me the noodles, please?” Watching you blink rapidly, he laughed, your cheeks warming at being caught up in his striking performance.

Grabbing the last ingredients, you held them in the bowl, “Can I put them in?” Smiling gently, he nodded. Easing the pan down, you dumped it over, pulling on the stuck strands so they all made it in. You laughed, resting your head on his shoulder as he used chopsticks to stir everything together. “It smells amazing… I can’t wait! Want me to flip the fish?”

The both of you looked towards the other pan before looking at each other again, Adaman smiled down at you, warmth in his brown eyes, “That would be great, thank you. Make sure you shake the pan up a little, in case the fish is stuck to the bottom.” You nodded, determined to not ruin the main part of the meal.

Once you had a hold of the handle, you looked over to your partner, “Like this?” You shifted it gently in your hands. Adaman smiled, motioning to his own pan.

“Here, watch me.” He gently shook the pan, the food curling up on the edges as he did so. You nodded, serious gaze now directed down at your own pan before imitating him. The fish slid easily, and Adaman inwardly sighed in relief. You looked up at him again, stars in your eyes and fist clenched.

“It's perfect!” Laughing together, he showed you how to pick it up and move it, how to be gentle with it so it didn’t fall apart. Once his demonstration was done, you easily picked it up and finished the dish. “You’re an amazing teacher, Adaman. Thank you for being so kind and patient with me. It means a lot to me.”

Your soft and genuine praise had his face on fire. Smiling, he leaned down to kiss your forehead, but you leaned up a bit higher and caught his lips in a gentle kiss. Breaking away, staying nose to nose, you simply watched each other's eyes, admiring each other. Leaning up, giving him another chaste peck, you pulled away and began setting the fish out on a plate.

Watching you still with a warmed chocolate gaze, Adaman watched you move. Sighing happily, he moved his own pan, finishing up the dish before plating it as well. He couldn’t deny the scent was absolutely mouthwatering. Licking his lips, he grabbed both his dish and the dish with the fish on it, and moved towards the sitting area.

As he moved away, you grabbed some smaller dishes for the two of you as well as some wine and water. Giddily, you followed after him, sitting beside him and setting everything down for the two of you. Bumping shoulders, the two of you served yourselves and chowed down.

You couldn’t help but moan aloud, ignoring Adaman’s blush, “This is so good! Oh my gosh… It’s amazing! Adaman!~” You happily slurped noodles, grabbing bits of veg and fish to quickly shove into your mouth as well.

Adaman sat stiffly, nodding robotically as he listened to your praises. If you were aware of the delicate sounds you were making, you paid them no mind as you wolfed down the meal. Finally relaxing, laughing sheepishly, Adaman also took a bite of his meal. Eyes widening, he exclaimed with a mouth full, “You’re right! Almighty Sinnoh… It's better than I thought it would be.”

You hummed happily next to him, speaking through your own cheeks full of food, “It’s cause it was made with love! We did an extra good job on it.” Your cheeks were flushed in pleasure, the food warming and filling your belly. Next to you, Adaman smiled gently.

“Made with love…” He pondered it, slowing down a bit and eating more carefully. He thought about everything the two of you did together. How you traveled across Hisui, battled, foraged, and swam in the ocean. Everything you two did, you did with love. Smiling in a love struck way, he rested his head on your shoulder, taking a moment to close his eyes.

You sighed happily, eating more carefully so that you didn’t jostle him too much. “So good… Are we gonna make everything in the book?” You felt him nod against you, quietly adding that his lessons with Beni weren’t completed, that he’d soon have even more dishes for the two of you to try and make together. You wiggled in your spot slightly, “I can’t wait! I’m gonna try all the new techniques you showed me with my stew too, I bet it’ll taste even better now!”

Sitting back up, he moved to sit on his rear instead of on his legs, stretching as he added more food to his plate. “I’m sure it’ll be divine, it’s already really good. You making that with different ingredients every time made me want to learn from Beni.” He kept the other reason to himself, that he wanted you to feel provided for by him as well. After all, every good husband should be able to care for their wife and children.

Blush racing down his neck and up to his ears had him coughing slightly, tapping his chest. He mentally admonished himself, it was much too early to be thinking about children with you. But he also couldn’t help it. Every moment he spent with the kids in the settlement, or with Sabi, had him imagining his own little pack with you. He hoped you’d be up to the idea of multiple children. He couldn’t help himself, growing up with just him - and then Mai and soon Melli, had him hoping to surround himself with his own children to love and fawn over him and vice versa.

He wished he could bring it up to you, but he didn’t want to feel like he was trapping you, or moving too fast. Sighing a bit dejectedly, he brought more food to his mouth before looking over at you. You were lost in your own world again, this time swaying in your spot, face perfectly happy as you ate dinner.

Adaman couldn’t help the pride that settled within him at that. He knew, no matter what the future held for the two of you, that you would face it together. If you two did end up marrying, and having children, he would provide for all of you to the best of his ability. He knew his clan would be thrilled as well, the moment he turned 18, they had all begun harassing him to marry, to have heirs who could potentially lead the clan.

Back then he couldn’t have cared less, turning down invites from other clan mates, proclamations of love, and hiding out in the Coronet Highlands with Melli or the Obsidian Fieldlands with Mai. Who could have known that after so long, he’d found himself a suitable partner. Smiling, he polished off another bowl. Sitting back, he sighed contentedly, rubbing his tummy with one hand. He heard you laugh, opening one eye to look at you.

You were grinning, gaze playful as you continued to eat. He watched as you filled your bowl, moving to sit on your bottom as well and scooted to be closer to him. Humming, he rested his cheek on your shoulder blade, body twisting to curve around you slightly. “You’re perfect, you know that? I feel like I could search all across Hisui and never find anyone who could hold a candle to you.”

You bit your lip, his genuine tone stopping you from countering with a joke. Instead, you placed your chopsticks down, holding his knee and stroking your fingers across his clothed skin. “I feel the same about you, Adaman. I don’t think there was anyone quite like you before I came here.”

Your soft admission had his heart pounding. Mentally, he reaffirmed himself in his original plan, to make you realize how happy you’d be in Hisui if Almighty Arceus gave you the option to go back to your own time. He wouldn’t let you slip through his fingers. Turning his face, he kissed your exposed shoulder softly before biting you loosely.

You squealed in his barely there hold, hand tightening your grip as you moved to hold his thigh. “You’re bad! I’m not even done with dinner!” He laughed softly, hot breath puffing over your skin.

“I just can’t help myself when I’m with you, what can I say?” His unapologetic tone had you giggling again, hand stroking his leg softly before returning to your bowl.

“Naughty man. After this you know we have to clean up?” Goaning comically loud behind you, the Diamond Clan leader flopped onto his back. “I know, I know. It's the worst part. But at least with a fridge, we can safely store all the leftovers!”

With a small ‘oh’ behind you, you quickly resumed wolfing down your delectable meal. You were relieved to have rotoms here, especially with the machinery that the Ginkgo Guild provided you with. Well, after you paid them ridiculous sums of money. You turned slightly, loudly slurping noodles as you admired Adaman’s prone body.

Even if he was splayed out, body relaxed with his eyes closed, you knew it was a trap. His strength was admirable, the control in which he exerted himself was something that never failed to make you hot under the collar. You had watched him forge tools in his settlement, lift children above his head, even the older ones, not to mention how he pulled much more than his own weight around his homestead.

Licking your lips, you continued to openly leer at his mostly clothed body, the only thing missing being his bulky haori. You smiled, watching his chest fall up and down as he relaxed, letting his food settle. Polishing off your bowl, you set it down before sidling up next to him, resting your head on his chest and bringing one of his legs between your own.

“I love spending time like this… Not a care in the world, not a rampaging nobel on the backs of our minds… Nothing at all, just us… Living in the moment.” Your words were dreamy, humming happily as one of his arms came to rest against your back, rubbing softly. “Let’s just lay here, yeah?”

He smiled at your sleepy tone, “Filled up and ready to sleep, my little snorlax?” You slapped his chest, laughing.

“‘Little’ snorlax? There’s no such thing!” The two of you laughed, laying there for a while longer in comfortable relaxation.

Feeling your partner move under you, you whined, holding onto his leg between your thighs tightly. He couldn’t deny he loved feeling the power in them, naughty thoughts bouncing around in his head. With a shaky laugh, he pulled away from you, his hands easily spreading your legs and slipping his own out. Ignoring all the other situations where he could be parting your thighs, he stood up and stretched.

“We’ve got to put everything away and clean up. C’mon, I know you still have the energy for it.” He held out his hands for you, and you pouted as you let him pull you up. “After this we can bathe, doesn’t that sound nice? I’m sure we could get your rapidash to warm the water for us.”

You grinned, pep in your step once more. You had used your pokemon to make a man made hot spring a ways from your home. After showing it to Iscan and Palina, you had made one by Iscan’s home as well. Explaining to her growlithe how to heat the water, you had left them to their own devices.

Filling it with fresh water was never a problem either, and soon enough, you had your own little personal hot spring. You had tried different additives to the water as well to make it seem more enriching, but you had yet to nail down something solid.

Moving about the kitchen with Adaman, you bashfully looked up at him. “So… You said ‘we’ could bathe… Does that mean you’d like to bathe together, or still just stay seperate?” Your words echoed in his head as he worked to clean the kitchen.

Mulling it over, you cut off his train of thoughts, “It’s okay if you don’t want to. I understand it’s a big step for us. I won’t be mad if you don’t want to, or if you decide not to once we get to the spring. I want whatever you’re comfortable with.” He pursed his lips in a tight line, still not facing you.

He had brought up once that you always deferred to what he wanted, if he was in the mood for something, or what he thought was appropriate. Asking you why you never said what you wanted, you had been bashful and didn’t meet his eye. Once he finally cornered you, holding your face and forcing you to look at him, you had admitted with a heavy blush and half lidded eyes that you were ready. Ready for anything, whatever he wanted to do with you.

You had also been expressly clear that you wouldn’t allow him to put himself in a precarious position just to satisfy you. And whenever it seemed he was pushing himself beyond what he was ready or comfortable with, you bodily removed yourself from him, telling him that you didn’t want to go further. He was touched that you cherished him so sweetly, that you’d do whatever you could to make him happy.

Adaman was reminded of this once more as you spoke. You gave him all the time he needed to reply, letting him think everything over carefully before he spoke up. “I think… I’d like to try. I mean… It would be casual intimacy. Like how tonight we were intimate in another way. I want to try it with you. But is it okay if we… Sit apart?” He clenched his jaw, feeling as if he were coming up short to what you so obviously desired of him.

However, he sucked in a tight breath as you looped your arms around his waist instead. “Of course, baby. I want us to be happy and comfortable with each other! I would still be happy if the spring was 50 feet long and we were both still on opposite ends!”

The two of you laughed together, his hands coming up to rest on the two of yours sitting on his belly. He smiled, rocking the two of you side to side as you rested your cheek on his back. “You’re amazing.” He felt unable to say more than that, his words stuck in his throat. He wanted to tell you how much he loved you, how badly he wanted you in his life for forever. Instead, he settled on squeezing your hands before turning in your hold.

You closed your eyes as his lips met yours, hands moving up to card through his hair. His hands rested on your hips, pulling you close to him as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. Sighing happily, you moved your mouth with his. Every time you seperated, it wasn’t but for a few seconds, if that, leaning back in and kissing once more.

You pressed your tongue against his, exploring his mouth and licking his teeth. He couldn’t help but moan, pulling you tighter against him as you tugged his hair. Finally breaking away, you swiped your tongue across his lips, grinning. “We’re almost done, I’ll go get samurott and rapidash to prepare the spring. Think you can handle it from here?”

Smirking, he kissed you softly, nibbling your lip, “Who do you think I am? Just some kid?” You both laughed, and as you turned to leave, you yelped as he smacked your ass.

“Pervert!” Sticking your tongue out at him, he lunged forward and snapped his teeth. Squealing, you rushed out to your pokemon, laughing the whole way outside and away from the house. Shaking his head, he laughed quietly, putting the food away and washing the small amount of dishes. You should be back in no time, it wasn’t the first time your pokemon had helped you with the spring.

Stacking the dishes on the counter, letting them air dry, he turned as he heard your footsteps on the porch. Panting slightly, you waved both hands at him, “Hi!” Laughing at your silliness, he waved a hand at you as well. “Ready to grab some towels and head out?”

Smirking, he followed you to the bedroom, “Gone just long enough to avoid the dishes, I see.” You bumped him with your hip, sticking your tongue out again at him. He leaned forward, grabbing the towels you handed to him and picking out loose clothes to change into once you were done.

On the way to the spring, you two held hands and spoke about nothing and everything. You pointed up at the stars, “Do you know any constellations?” He hummed as he peered up as well. Tilting his head, he thought back to all the stories his grandparents would tell him.

Hesitating slightly, he let go of your hand, considering the other was full of your shared clothes and towels, “I’m not sure I’m right, but I think that one there is Gaadi, it’s the shape of a Growlithe. My grandpa once said it represents new beginnings.” He smiled to himself, hand holding onto yours again as he peeked down at you, “I think it’s fitting that that’s the constellation for tonight. Moving ahead in our relationship and giving each other a little bit more trust, you know?”

You made big eyes up at him, holding his hand in yours in a vice. Smiling a bit worriedly, he opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, before your watery eyes closed and you pulled him into a surprisingly crushing hug. Wheezing at the sudden force, he struggled to breathe for a moment. “Adaman! You’re the- the-” Your big eyes met his again, tearful and shining in the moonlight, “You’re fantastic! I see all the effort you’re making, how you hold true to your beliefs and traditions and also helping me fit into your life as well and teaching me so much. Thank you for being with me and thank you for saying that.”

You didn’t have to reach up far to kiss him as he was already leaning down to meet your lips with his own. He sighed softly, your lips remaining closed but still moving against each other in gentle motions. Breaking away, you pecked him one more time before meeting his gaze once more. Smiling, you kissed each cheek and then his forehead. Nuzzling your nose against his, you let go of him, and he tried to be subtle with the deep breath he took.

Spearheading your journey again, you practically dragged Adaman up the hill to the spring, bouncing with every step. He laughed behind you, taking his time to admire your body and the way you made him feel loved and cherished. Once you crested the small hill, the both of you melted at the sight of the steaming water, your pokemon back down towards the house. You knew if you called loud enough, you’d be able to get rapidash to come back and reheat the water again, but you didn’t anticipate being out here long enough.

You slowed to a stop, turning to face your partner. Smiling gently, you swung your connected hands and arms side to side, “Want me to turn around while you undress?” Chewing his bottom lip, Adaman thought hard. He had been obsessing over seeing you but wasn’t quite sure he was comfortable with you seeing him. Would that be wrong of him? Taking a deep breath, he smiled down at you.

“Would it be okay to see how far I can make it, and then if I get nervous I can ask you to close your eyes?” Relieved, he felt his shoulders relax as you smiled and nodded at him. “Do you mind if I went first?”

Grinning, you kissed the corner of his mouth and then the underside of his jaw. “Oh, I don’t mind at all.” Your smile softened as his cheeks turned from rosy to red. Laughing, you look a step back, sitting in the grass and trying to appear as nonchalant and relaxed as you could. Peering up at him from your spot, you tilted your head to the side and hummed softly.

Huffing a laugh, he looked off to the side. Without his haori, there were significantly less layers to shuffle through. Untying his flowy top, he shrugged it off his shoulders and nervously folded it, placing it on a strategically placed rock. Eyes darting to where you sat, he watched as you comfortably played with the grass, pulling strands out, and occasionally looking towards him.

Tense shoulders relaxing once more, he was silently thankful that you weren’t teasing him or making it much of a show. It had his racing heart calming down and he felt much more relaxed as he slowly began to unbind his arm. As you noticed his movement, you looked up at him. You couldn’t help your curiosity, you had never seen him with his wrappings off.

As you watched him, you realized how methodical he was being, almost as if he were in a trance as he moved. Smiling gently, you called out to him in a voice just above a whisper. “Adaman? Are you alright? You don’t have to take it off in front of me if you don’t want to.”

Blinking, he slowly turned his head to face you, an almost surprised look on his face. Peering down at his arm, which wasn’t uncovered much, he looked at you again. “I’m sorry, I guess I didn’t realize. I don’t actually take this off much. It’s not so much that I need it, but… It’s more like a security thing, I think. Like, it just… Makes me feel better when I have it on.”

Matching your soft smile, he walked up closer to you, sitting down in front of you, clothed knees touching yours. You were grateful he didn’t seem too embarrassed about not having a top on, it wasn’t often you got to see his naked chest. Especially out in the moonlight, you could see various scars. None looked too bad, and you hoped he would tell you about every single one of them someday.

Breaking you out of your train of thought, he offered his still bound arm to you, smirking as you met his gaze. “Like what you see?” Squealing, you covered your face with your hands, cheeks hot.

“So what if I like to admire my boyfriend! He’s the most handsome man I’ve ever seen!” You uncovered your face, cheeks still burning, “I’m allowed to appreciate what’s mine, after all I’m lucky enough that you’ve chosen me to be your partner.” You smiled bashfully, giggling slightly.

Soft laughter grew louder as you both sat together, grinning faces and warm cheeks reflecting each other’s expressions. Biting your lip, you reached out for his hand. His brown eyes warmed as you handled him as if he were made of glass. His soft voice greeted you as you turned over his hand to touch his palm gently. “Would you be okay unbinding it? It’s a little awkward with one hand.”

Your surprised face shot up before nodding enthusiastically, “I’d love to! You’re not hurt, are you? I’ll be as gentle as I can.” His other hand came up to rest against your cheek, his smile making your heart feel as if it were about to give out at any moment, pounding in your chest rapidly.

“I know you will. They’re all old wounds, you won’t hurt me. I promise.” Feeling your chest throb, you suddenly felt like screaming. Like grabbing him and rolling him like a feraligatr. Like no matter how close you brought him to your chest, you would still be bursting with so much love and adoration for him that you might pop.

The sudden realization had you biting your lip to keep from grinning like an idiot. You were so in love with Adaman you couldn’t stand it. Laughing softly, you leaned down and kissed his fingertips. Sheepishly, he rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, “Hey, c’mon now, you’re gonna make me blush.”

He looked away as you looked up at him, his cheeks already a rosy red. Your laughter died down, and you moved to be next to him as you gripped the bindings he had started to unwrap. “Sorry, I just think you’re amazing. Thank you for letting me do this.” Leaning up, you nuzzled him with your nose, smiling as he returned the gesture.

A comfortable silence surrounded the two of you, the only sounds being that of nature and pokemon around you. As you worked down his arm, you kept your questions to yourself. The scars that wrapped around his arm weren’t so thick, but there were a lot of them side by side and crossing over each other. A hoard of pokemon, maybe?

Getting closer to his palms, you cautioned a glance up at him, just to meet his gaze as he was staring down at you adoringly. Squeaking, you focused on his wrist and hand again. Laughing softly, he kissed the top of your head, admiring how you fumbled a bit with the bandages between the bases of his digits.

Gathering the now loose bandages in your hands, you licked your lips before meeting his gaze again. “There we go! I’ll just, uhm, wrap this up… Into a neat little… ball, I guess.” Your sentence fell flat as you struggled to wind the wrap back up, and instead just held it in a heap. Laughing, he offered you his other hand.

Smiling up at him, you gently unwound his hand as well, the process much faster. Finishing up, you moved to put the wrappings with his shirt but he stopped you. Taking them from your hands, he stood and set them down. Nibbling his lip, he didn’t turn to fully face you as his hands rested on the waistband of his baggy pants.

Sitting back down on your bottom, you put your hands in your lap, watching his profile closely before forcing yourself to look away periodically. He wouldn’t strip down if you were sitting there drooling over him, although you hoped for that to change one day, when the two of you were incredibly familiar with each others’ bodies.

Swallowing thickly, Adaman then cleared his throat, nervously looking at you before clenching his jaw. Tugging his pants off, he let them gather at his feet before stepping out of them. Looking at you again, he watched as you rapidly blinked and looked away, peering up at the sky then down towards the ground and everywhere that wasn’t him.

Laughing slightly, he hesitated a moment longer after folding and setting his pants down. Biting his lip, he looked towards you again, not looking away until you met his gaze. Realizing he was watching you closely, you tilted your head at him. “Want me to close my eyes? I don’t mind doing it. I want you to be enthusiastic and happy with how everything goes! You’ve already given me so much, you don’t have to push yourself even harder, my love.”

A small ‘oh’ fell from his lips as he looked back down where his hands had fisted the front of his boxer briefs. Swallowing thickly again, he sent you an apologetic smile. “Would you mind?” His heart warmed as you smiled softly at him, shaking your head and covering your eyes, then tilting your head down towards the grass.

With a small smile, he tugged off the last of his clothes, sitting on an adjacent rock, and tugging off his socks and shoes. Spinning slightly, he lowered himself into the heated cloudy water. Sighing happily, he moved to the other side of the artificial hot spring and sank lower so his shoulders were submerged. Groaning in content, he called out to you. “Okay, you can look now!”

Head popping up, you easily found him once again and smiled. “My turn!” You grinning, standing up and brushing any loose grass off your clothes. Shimmying up to the rock with all his clothes, you grabbed the hem of your top before looking at him again. “It’s okay if I strip down here, too, right?”

Coughing roughly, he looked away for a second before quickly peeking back. “Yeah!” Clearing his throat, he tried to sound less eager. “I mean, yeah, of course. Besides, this is your homestead, don’t let me tell you, uh, what to do, you know?” His sentence trailed off as his gaze wandered your still clothed body.

Laughing again, you tugged up your shirt, setting it down with his things. “I know, but I want you to be comfortable. I’m not gonna disregard you ‘cause it’s my house, Adaman. You know that.” You looked at him warmly, and he felt his cheeks heat up. Swallowing, he watched as you tugged off your undergarment. You had refused to use the bindings that people usually wore to keep their chests confined, instead opting to still use the garments you had arrived in.

Tugging off your bra, you sighed happily, rolling your shoulders back and stretching your arms up and out. You purposefully had your eyes closed as you did so, not wanting to spook your precious boyfriend. You wanted him to eye you up, to take you all in. While his hands had ventured under your clothing before, it was almost exclusively at night in the dark in the sheets. This would be the first time he actually got to see you.

Sighing happily, you peered down at your hands as you undid the ties around your pants. Tugging them down and off, you stepped out of them and tossed them on top of your other clothes. This time, you peered at your boyfriend as you stood up. Smirking as he jolted, he was soon licking his lips, letting his eyes rake over you in just your panties and slide on shoes.

Giggling, you winked at him, admiring the redness that reached down to his toned chest, though most of it was probably the spring water. Humming contentedly to yourself, you tugged off your last article of clothing, turning sideways so he’d have a profile view of your body.

You didn’t bother to look at him as you straightened up, shuffling to the edge of the pool of water as you tentatively stepped into it, careful of your step on the slick underwater rocks. Once you found your footing on the opposite side of Adaman, you sank down into the water, sighing happily. You didn’t look at him until you were comfortably seated, noticing how he was no longer watching you.

You couldn’t help but wonder if he only looked away at the last moment, or if he had given you some unneeded privacy. Giggling, you stretched out, leaning back and letting your ankles cross his. “Isn’t this nice?” Your voice was a whisper, taking in the relaxation of the heated water and medicinal and aromatic additives you had settled on for tonight. Swaying slightly, you opened your eyes, taking Adaman in as he relaxed in front of you.

He hummed in agreement, still submerged and breathing deeply. “Very nice. Thank you for letting me join you.” You giggled at his admission, he was always formally thanking you for everything. You figured it was a cultural thing. He would thank you for joining him somewhere, for greeting him once he got to your home, for all sorts of things.

Breaking the silence between the two of you, his low voice roused you from your relaxed state. “Do you have any plans regarding your work soon? If not, perhaps we can travel somewhere together.” Smiling, you peeked one eye open.

“Adaman… Are you asking me out on a date?” Humming in question, he picked his head up from where it was resting on the edge of the spring.

“Date?” You stared back at him, equally confused for a moment, before laughing.

“Sorry. I meant to say, are you asking me to join you for a romantic outing?” That had him blushing, but he grinned all the same.

“Yes. If you’d have me.” Sighing dreamily, you relaxed once again, halfway closing your eyes and looking up at the stars.

“How could I ever say no to you? You can take me anywhere you want, my love.” He smiled, kicking his legs slightly so you felt him against yours.

“Perfect. I’ll let you know what the plans are once I figure them out myself.” The two of you laughed, soaking in the heated water under the starry night sky, warm moonlight illuminating you both. You couldn’t help but look forward to whatever he had planned.

#adaman x reader #adaman pokemon #pokemon adaman #pokemon #pokemon legends arceus #pokemon arceus legends

79 notes · View notes

fuzzydreamin · 1 year ago

Text

Fuzzy's Fallout 4 Mod List

Finally decided to put together a list of the mods I use. (I even made a quick and crappy banner!)

I use Vortex to manage my mods, it's super easy and basically holds your hand through installing and setting up mods. You're also going to need F4SE no matter what.

I mostly find my mods on Nexus, so just search the names listed here on there. Anything not found on Nexus will have a link to it (tumblr only allows 100 links, so I couldn't just link everything).

I would also recommend keeping all of your original file downloads in a seperate folder in your games drive or wherever, organised however is easiest for you. That way you can check what you have outside of the manager, and don't have to re-download everything if you decide you need to nuke vortex and start fresh - just look for updated files only. You also won't completely lose access to the mods you really enjoy if the author decides to hide or get rid of them, since you'll always keep a version on your computer.

I also play with a lot of Creation Club content.

Woe be upon those who enter beyond here, the list is long.

Misc

These are either scripts, fixes, little changes to random things, or just didn't fit in any other category for whatever reason.

Achievements (Enables achievement gain while using mods.)

Better Notes

Publick Occurrences Expanded (Requires 'Better Notes'. Makes the newspaper look better, and also adds new articles for quests and events worth writing news about. Piper's actually got a job now.)

Carry Weight on Level Up (I do more things, I get more shit. I level up and I can carry said shit. Solves my problems without feeling like a total cheat since I still have to level up to earn it.)

Classic Radiation Poisoning

Crafting Highlight Fix

Durable Vertibirds (They'll actually be able to put up a real fight with some super mutants before they still end up falling out of the sky on my head.)

Equipment and Crafting Overhaul (ECO)

Extended Dialogue Interface

HUDFramework (You need this to make the above mod work.)

Loot Logic and Reduction (No more post-war items in pre-war safes.)

Immersive Generic Dialogues (Settler reputation. They talk differently to you based on how happy they are.)

Militarized Minutemen

Militirized Minutemen - Uniforms Patches and Insignia Addon

Militarized Minutemen-We Are The Minutemen Compatability Patch

We Are The Minutemen

We Are The Minutemen - Militarized Minutemen - Uniform Patches and Insignia Addon - Compatibility Patch

Mod Configuration Menu

Multiple Floors Sandboxing

Nuka World - Skip Raiding Your Own Settlements (Lets you go through Nuka World without making Preston mad, but you won't be able to establish any raider camps in the Commonwealth, thus blocking the 'Hostile Takeover' achievement.)

Nuka World Plus (Choose another faction to take over Nuka World after getting rid of the raider bosses. Run businesses and defend against raider's attempts to retake the park.)

Power Armor Fast Exit and Enter

Pride Mod 2023 (Workshop items, clothing, pip-boy and PA skins, and more.)

Rename Anything

Scrap that Misc

Start Me Up Redux

Unofficial Fallout 4 Patch - UFO4P

Wastelander's Cookbook

Weightless Junk and Other Items

Character Creation

Bodyslide and Outfit Studio

Bodytalk V3

Caliente's Beautiful Bodies Enhancer

Commonwealth Cuts - KS Hairdos - ApachiiSkyHair

EoW - Makeup Colors

LooksMenu

Lots More Facial Hair

Lots More Female Hairstyles

Lots More Male Hairstyles

Ponytail Hairstyles by Azar

Super Natural Eyes Pack ( Standalone )

The Eyes Of Beauty Fallout Edition

Zella's Hair Dye Collection

Clothing, Armour, and Weapons

1950's Feminine Outfits

Absolutely Head Wear

Animated and Glowing Jewelry

Army Officers Outfit - REDUX

Backpacks of the Commonwealth

Big Dumb Flower Crown

Black Pip-Boy

Bunnygirl Outfit

Casual Survivalist

Classic Holstered Weapons

Collars for Humans

Colonial Attire

Colorful Commonwealth - Sunglasses and Wigs

Combat Armor Headlamp

Commonwealth Shorts

Commonwealth Shorts for Men

CROSS_BrotherhoodRecon

CROSS_Courser Strigidae

CROSS Uni BoS Uniform

CROSS Jetpack

Eli's Armour Compendium

Engraved Silver Shroud Submachinegun

Eyewear and Mask Retexture

Fishing Hat

Functional Wedding Rings

Furby Crab Glasses

Furby's Brotherhood Uniform Retexture

Furby's Custom Brotherhood Uniform

Furby's Spiked Leather Collar

Furby76Imports

FurbyGymShorts

Grease Rat Garbs

Hidden Armors

Holstered Weapons by Azar

HorribleBowlingShirt

SIRIUS Assault Suit

K-Girl outfits

K-Girl Outfits for Vanilla-EVB (Let's male bodies wear the outfits from the above mod.)

Magnolia's Burlesque Outfit

More Clothes and Textures

Nurse's Cap

Obi's Choker Collection

Pride Bandanas

Private Military Company

Private Military Company Extended

Proper Party Gear

Retro Fashion Overhaul

Requested Clothing

S.R.O. - Syringer Overhaul

Shino Sailor Moon -Cbbe- Body Slider

Shino Sailor Moon - Extended Sailors

Shaggy Wigs

Short Skirts

Simple Clothing

Simple Clothing - CBBE Bodyslide Conversion

STRAC Hats

Tactical Combat Swimwear

TheKite's Handmaiden

TheKite's MilitiaWoman Outfit

Unique Uniques - Unique Weapons Redone (Makes named legendary weapons have their own appearance. Also changes their legendary effects though.)

More Uniques - Unique Weapons Expansion (Not a replacer like the above mod, just adds even more weapons with their own looks and effects.)

Vault-Tec Outfits

Wasteland Aviator

Companions

AmazingFollowerTweaks

Alternate Hancock Outfit Standalone (Colonial Duster Retexture) (Not a replacer - you find it in his office to do with as you like. I like to think it's a winter coat - using with AFT means he will switch between given outfits.)

Codsworth Out of Time Fix (The creator has hidden this mod but it's a real lifesaver if you use a lot of Creation Club content, as the influx of data at the start of the game can bug the start of the main quest, and thus him and Preston. This mod lets you immersively skip the post-war Sanctuary tour and bug exterminating by telling him you already did it, which is where Codsworth would glitch out - not following along and not progressing the quest stage. LMK if you want the file and I'll find a way to share it.)

Combat Zone Restored

Combat Zone Restored Restored (patch that cleans up the above mod.)

Curie's Molerat Disease Cure

Danse GTFO Power Armor

Danse No X-01

Fallout Shelter Online-Inspired Curie Outfit

Fashionable Valentine

Immersive Dogmeat

Nick Valentine Romance

Use Repair Kits On Nick Valentine

Creatures

Cat Apparel

Cat Inventory

Classic Dogmeat A.K.A. Pirate

Courser Crusher

Crows and Creatures

D.E.C.A.Y - Better Ghouls

Less Loot D.E.C.A.Y.

Deadlier Deathclaws (Makes that starter encounter real tough. Tip: shelter inside the store near the museum and keep luring it out to the windows - let Preston work for his rescue.)

Diverse Cats

Dogmeat Helmets and Hats

Dogmeat's Backpack

Dogmeat's Backpacks of the Commonwealth (Requires the mod above it - Improves the other mod and very importantly lets bags be used with dog armour!)

Glowing Animals Emit Light

Immortal Cats (I also add the additional file to turn cat meat into tins of cat food.)

K-9 Harness -- Tactical Body Armor and Backpack for Dogmeat

k9 harness bandana fix dogmeat (Lifts the bandana a little so it doesn't clip.)

No Legendary Items from Creatures (Bloatfly's don't carry guns.)

NPC Loot Drop Rebalance

Pet Any Dog

Protected Unique Brahmin

Real Dogmeat Armor (Adds protection to the dog armour -works for enemy attack dogs.)

Shadow the Dark Husky Companion

True Legendary Enemies (Fight Todd Howard in his own game.)

Textures and Environment

Burnt Magazines and Comics Retexture

CROSS Crit Gore-verhaul

Darker Nights

Delightful Dead Fish

Enhanced Blood Textures

Enhanced Lights and FX

Furby's Brotherhood of Steel Flag Retexture

Immersive Drumlin Diner

Immersive Drumlin Diner eXoPatch (Fixes stuff for the one above, otherwise you might get the old drumlin and the new one pasted on top of each other, and poor Patrick will be T-posing.)

Improved Map with Visible Roads

Magazine Mesh Cleanup

Nuka Recipe Book 2k Retextures

True Grass

True Storms - Wasteland Edition (Thunder-Rain-Weather Redone)

Vivid Fallout - All in One

Settlements and Building

All Settlements Extended

Art Connoisseur System ... A "Frame" Work (Lets you use mods to add more paintings. Or add your own images.)

Atom Bomb Pinups Paintings (Requires 'Art Connoisseur System'.)

Better Settlers

Better Vendor Stalls

Brighter Settlement Lights

Build Your Own Pool

Business Settlements

Busy Settlers

Campsite

Capital Wasteland Workshop

Colored Workshop Lights

Colorful Bottle Lanterns

Craft All The Drugs (Lets you plant hubflowers and the like in settlements - they work like crops and can be harvested regularly.)

Craftable Hats (Automatron) (Lets you put 3 kinds of hats on robots.)

Craftable Pride Flags

Crafting Fury 9000 GTX

Crimsonrider's Unique Furniture

cVc Dead Wasteland

CWSS Redux (Build a nicer bathroom.)

Dino's Decorations

Farming Resources

Femshepping's Minimalist Homewares

Fiddler's Green Settlement

Filled Brahmin and Water Troughs

Fizztop Grille Workshop (Changes the exterior.)

Fizztop Grille Enhancements (Changes the interior.)

Free Cage and Trap Repairs

Functional Displays

G2M - Workshop

Generator Fusebox

Graffiti 2 Electric Boogaloo

Hangman's Alley Interior Apartments

Holotape Display Shelves

Homeplate - Mechanist Lair - Full Workbenches

Homemaker

Housekeeping

Invisible Furniture

Just Some Curtains and Rods

Lightbulb Wire

Longer Power Lines

Lore Friendly Posters

Minutemen Morale Pack

More Colorful Potted Plants

More Fortifications

Northland Diggers

Nuka World - Bot Mods Extravaganza (Lets you build some nuka world bots.)

OCDecorator - Static Loot

Old World Plaids

Orphans of the Commonwealth

Place Everywhere

Quieter Settlements

Rebuild - AIO (Rebuild the structures in many of the settlements across the Commonwealth -not all of them yet. Keeps that wasteland weathered look without everything staying broken and unusable.)

Rebuild - Shared Resources (Required for the above mod.)

Rebuild - Workshop Standalone (Not required, but adds matching snappable doors and such.)

Rebuild - Modular Sanctuary Pre-War and Post-War Build Set (Unrelated to the other 'rebuild' mods. Just adds House of Tomorrow themed build items.)

Recruit Isabel Cruz as Settler

Recruit Scribe Haylen as Settler

Red Rocket Fresh Paint (Works with Rebuild mod - just changes the floor and walls colour/texture.)

Renovated Furniture

Reversed Workshop Highlight

Scrap Everything

Settlement Keywords Expanded

Settlement Menu Manager

Settlement Objects Expansion Pack

Settlement Supplies Expanded

Settlements Expanded (Let's you unlock a higher settlement building budget, among other things. Larger builds will cause issues -fast travel into your more worked on settlements to help clean the load.)

Shaikujin's Better warning for settlements being attacked

Signs of the Times - Posters

Simply Modular Housing

Singing Settler

Snap'n Build

SnapBeds - Usable Bunk Beds - Mix and Match Beds

Snappable Clutter and Display

Stained Glass Workshop Mod - Unicorn Farts and Godrays

Static Object Decorator

The Cozy Scavver - A Settlement Workshop Kit

The Kuro Tab

The Sanctuary Bridge

Thematic and Practical - Workshop Settlements - Structures and Furnitures

Transfer Settlements - Shareable Settlement Blueprints

Videos of the Wasteland

Vault 76 Educational Films Holotapes (Goes with above mod.)

Vault Posters

Wall Mounted Magazine Shelf

Wall Pass-Through Power Conduits

Woody's Wasteland Stuff

Working Food Planters

Working Table Lamps

Workshop Framework

Xnjguy Filled Mods All-In-One

Radios

Boston Pirate Radio - Anarchist Raider Punk

Elvani's Track Pack for Diamond City Radio

Jetfuel Radio Standalone

More Where That Came From - Diamond City Radio Edition

Survival and Immersion

These are mods I don't play with all the time, just when I'm looking for a more hardcore run around the Commonwealth and want to spend the extra time taking care of my character in the wild.

Agony (Rebalances damage, wounds, and healing - really lives up to it's name.)

Animated Chems Redone (Adds more animations similar to Agony, covering what they missed.)

APC Transport (Useful if you don't want to 'cheat' by using regular fast travel but don't want to hoof it from one side of the map to the other. I'd always recommend having FT enabled in survival through mods though, as the reload can help smooth issues out.)

Create Your Own Difficulty Rebalance

DEF_SSW Survival Stats widget redone

Give Me That Bottle

Smokeable Cigars - Cigarettes - Joints - With HardCore Auto Save (More animations, plus a save.)

Survival Mode Console Enabler

Survival Mode Transition Save (Ensures you get a quicksave when entering buildings and the like.)

SURVIVAL QUICK SAVE - No Sleep Till Bedtime (Gives you an aid item you can save to a hotkey if you need a fast save.)

Bethesda Mods

Get these by loading up the game and selecting 'MODS' on the main menu.

CREAtive Clutter - All DLC

CREAtive Teddy Bears

Do It Yourshelf Updated

Easy Homebuilder and Working Double Beds

Home Plate Interior Revamped

Immersive Decor

Makeshift Furniture Pack

More Bang For Your Bark (This mod is specifically for use with the Transdogrifier Creation Club mods - it lets the new dog shapes use clothing.)

MsRae's 76 Style Outfits

MsRae's All The Overalls

MsRae's Horticulture DLC

Railroad Death Bunnies Clothes

-----

(Now, y'all might say that's a lot of mods. And it is. But the only significant issues I have is that when I die my game crashes to desktop, and the excess of Creation Club content loading at the start of the game sometimes bugs out the first stage of the main quest, and thus poor Codsy and Preston. I just have to skip Codsy's search bit and rush to meet and save Preston to see if he will talk to me or not. Otherwise things run as normal -for a Bethesda game.)

#fallout #fallout 4 #fuzzy.post #masterpost #mods

10 notes · View notes