#and quietly work on the memes i owe

[foxballad]

Good morning! I have things on queue so if i owe you a reply it will be posted. I think i have answered all the threads that i owe according to my thread tracker but if i forgot to answer something, please let me know! I already started to work on the memes i owe in my askbox so they will be put on queue too!

Also i will be quietly writing them in my drafts. I’m kind of feeling negative about my portrayal but hopefully this will pass soon 😭😭😭

[xxlordalexanderxx]

8, 29, 23, 29 for RP topics please!

Send a number for me to talk about one of the following topics! ⭐|Accepting

Aight, so I got a lot of strong feelings about these.

8: Reblog karma

While I appreciate that this is a thing that some of us are trying to practice, it also needs to be accepted that people are not always going to send things in. That's just how it is. I personally practice reblog karma, but not everyone will. But, at the same time, don't sit here and complain about never getting shit in your inbox when you don't recuperate the gesture. Getting memes fed to you on a whim may work out at first, but after a while that will eventually wane. The same energy you put out here is what you will receive in the long run.

29: Blocking

Blocking could be done for a few reasons, but at the end of the day it means "Leave me alone, I don't want to see your stuff or interact." It does not mean block evade and continue to harass and demand a reason for being blocked. You are not owed a reason for being blocked!!! I commend those who manage to work out issues like adults and talk things over, we need more of that honestly. But if someone blocks you you need to accept that and move on. I can see if said person is a long time friend and you might want to have a conversation first.

But if someone blocks you and this person has no significance to your life, move the fuck on, you don't need that person. There other people on this bitch of an earth to write with, people come and go in life all the time, the one's who stick by you in the end is all that should matter, the people who are willing to settle things like ADULTS are the one's that should matter. Go where you are celebrate and quit wasting your time trying to kiss the ass of someone who wants nothing to do with you. Leave folks alone.

23: Another RPC you’re no longer part of

I only was ever part of one fandom, and many of you may know that is the Wreck it Ralph fandom. In its hayday it was very fun, I ran a popular King Candy Bug blog that a handful of you are just now realizing that I was Candycaneforest-lurker and later Lordcandycane. For a while it was bliss, until it was not. To make a long story short I ended up having a stalker for about a year who also stole my art and dealt with entitled folks who thought they were owed my time. I even had a person who went and made a whole-ass Youtube video on me and complained about ME not giving them attention when I had hundreds of people I interacted with.

For as much fun and delight I gained from this fandom I suffered in it too. I still carry scars from being mistreated and harassed which still affects me to this day. This is why I shy away from people who get really attached to my characters or constantly want to interact with me personally because that's how my stalking started, it may not be the intention but I need folks to be chill with those kinds of things, take it easy. I'm glad you like my stuff but I don't do strong approaches well. I never bothered to get in another fandom since. I enjoy things from various IPs quietly.

[desnas]

!! (For the ask meme!)

okay i just want to start off by saying i'm so deeply sorry this took me so long to reply too (we're in the process of a move so i've been sooo busy. also have adhd brain worms)

from this ask prompt!

i was originally going to do this for signe, because she's one of my oldest ocs but i've had taro on the mind lightly and it's all consuming so i just know for a fact that i need to talk about them here

this is taro! any prns are fine (they/she/he/fae/faer)

they are my main pathfinder: wrath of the righteous knight commander, and a druidic feyspeaker half-elf from the mwangi expanse!

they follow the green faith while simultaneously worshipping desna / shimye-magalla, and they have an animal companion, a large elk named moyobi! their best friend and noble steed...

spotify | pinterest

more under the cut to keep this from clogging up folks' dashes :)c

cw for disease/plague/sickness/cancer!

so taro doesn't quite have a full name. taro amalathea is what i have so far, but i've been trying to decide on their last name for months now. i figure it will come to me when it's ready lol, so far nothing's sounded right

that aside, taro is a very colorful and vibrant person. they aren't ashamed of who they are! they are wholly devoted to nature and the restoration of golarion, the planet they live on.

they were born in western mwangi to a bonuwat human mother and an ekujae elven mother (two moms :))

their elven mother was born with an incredibly adventurous spirit, prompting her to leave behind her life among other ekujae-- when she travelled west, she found the bonuwat peoples and fell for taro's other mom-- together, they had a child and began to wander with a desnan caravan around the expanse. this was how taro grew-- on the road with a whacky, ragtag family of people from all over the expanse travelling together with a shared love for desna. for music, art, magic, nature, and beauty, but most of all, dreams.

taro's childhood was incredibly enriching and fulfilling, and she learned much about the world both from her mothers and from the others who partook in communally parenting her. however, an ekujae curse finally caught up with taro's elven mother. a leukodaemon, monster and harbinger of plague and disease, had been following the caravan for years. it wasn't revealed to taro until later that that was the true reason her elven mother left her home. she was cursed to always run, or this monster would catch up with her and end her happy life.

when the leukodaemon came, no one but taro survived. the violent event would stick with taro for the rest of his life. he ran, ran north, taking note that this daemon was following him to resolve unfinished business. taro was only 11 at the time. he remembered a relative; an estranged auntie (sister of his elven mother) who lived in southern avistan around taldor.

and so, he travelled by boat, then by caravan, then by wagon, in a rush to outrun the monster trailing him. he'd finally reached his destination in taldor, reuniting with his kin, only to find that a noblewoman had taken claim of his poor auntie and made her into an indentured servant. taro and their auntie butted heads quite a bit, but an ekujae is always loyal to family. she requested that taro be allowed room and board in exchange for working for this noblewoman, but in turn, the favor would extend their auntie's fees owed to this noblewoman.

a former crusader, ruthless, rich, and permanently injured by the demons, this noblewoman saw potential in taro and decided to recruit them as her assistant. she took them everywhere with her, and overtime they learned battle strategy secondhand by taking notes for their employer. she was not a kind woman, however, and did little to make taro feel like less of an outcast in a village where people knew so little of the mwangi expanse and their culture.

taro found solace in the gardens of the noblewoman's estate, often singing quietly and playing pretend with herself. these gardens were vast and untamed, and taro would get lost in them for hours. one day, she had the misfortune of stepping into a faery circle-- and it was then that the fey stole her name. no one in the village remembered her; not even her auntie. taro stole back into the gardens and adventured into the feywilds to relieve herself of this curse. she was just an adolescent!!! it would seem that her trek would turn into a myriad of riddles and puzzles; but her sharp mind carried her through and eventually taro even managed to charm her way into the favor of a small faery court. from this point, she developed a connection with the fey, and they even granted her her own animal companion; a trained battle-elk who she named moyobi.

when she'd returned to the mortal realm, she'd found that everyone within the village had fallen ill. each illness was different from the other-- some with the pox, some with colds, etc.

after having escaped the leukodaemon for so many years, she knew now that it had caught up and was toying with her life, with the people she cared about. many succumbed to illness and passed, including her very own aunt. so grief stricken, taro turned back to the gardens and hid there to wallow, and to die. it wasn't until desna reached out in taro's sleep with the song of elysium chiming in her ears that taro was pulled from the brink of death.

when she awoke, there was a bushel of berries-- and it was a faerie and servant of desna that told taro one berry could cure any disease. the catch was this-- there was only one berry for each surviving villager. and so, taro returned. they told the village of what they'd found-- and their employer demanded she be given rights to the bush as it was grown on her property. taro remained steadfast and stubborn. they would not let anyone touch the bush until every single villager had been cured, and eventually the whole village revolted against this noblewoman. soon, all the berries were gone and the village had recovered, but it wasn't long before taro found she was sick herself-- breast cancer. we're calling it elfwort. the village felt so indebted to her that they took great care of her. she had a mastectomy, underwent both magical and medicinal treatment, and recovered with desna's blessing.

unfortunately, the leukodaemon was still lurking behind, waiting to wreak more havoc, and taro had to say goodbye to her village. she'd heard rumors of a witch near sarkoris who had a proficiency in both handing out and removing serious curses, and so she travelled north. that was how she found herself there, in kenabres, and became the knight commander of the 5th crusade.

DEEP BREATH. ANYWAYS, SO MUCH BACKSTORY. AND IT'S STILL NOT EVEN FULLY FLESHED OUT. can you tell he's my brain guy. i love him so much. he follows the azata path, the guardians of a realm called elysium; i think truly, deep down, taro craves the freedom to stay in elysium. no other place they've encountered has felt like home as earnestly as elysium has. i'm still playing through wrath of the righteous, so we'll see where their story goes.

but as of right now, they're romancing both arueshalae, a desna-worshipping succubus looking to ascend from her demonic status, and daeran, a posh nobleman with a vety pretty smile.

ferne and i also have an au where their commander, luthais, chose the aeon path (with space and time travel) and created a universe in which, instead of him, he chose taro to take his place as the commander as they are nearly the exact opposite of him. he's... more lawful neutral/evil and taro is very chaotic good. she hates law and order, values goodness and sees the light in others. she loves unconditionally, and can be a bit reckless due to this. her love extends to the entirety of the army, and as someone who has never liked the military, she now views her own crusade as a large family.

regrettably, i don't have much art of taro but here is the full body ref i drew + game screenshots

[janzoo]

Kiss on the temple (for the prompts :3)

(Original meme)

Now on AO3 too!

Setting: Aymeric's office...

"...And this is Lord Artoirel's report. I think that's all the paperwork I have that's owed to you," said Drakyr, handing three more pages over the desk to Aymeric. He barely looked up as he accepted it.

"Ah yes, with that, I believe all is in order," Aymeric responded, glancing over the top page before setting it down on a steadily growing stack of paperwork. "That will be all."

Drakyr started, eyes widening, as Aymeric returned to his work. A moment of quiet followed.

She cleared her throat. "'That will be all'?" Drakyr repeated, incredulous.

Aymeric paused. Sighing, he set his quill down and looked to Drakyr properly. "Fury have mercy. I'm sorry, my dear. I do not mean to speak to you so. You've done nothing to offend me. With so much work to be done - " he gestured to everything awaiting his attention on his desk. " - my focus has become all-too singular."

Drakyr walked around the desk to stand at his side. With him sitting, they had the chance to be more or less at eye level. One hand rose to his jawline, guiding him closer, until she could press her lips to his temple. He sighed again, this time in relief, in the bliss of the release of a pressure he'd only just noticed he carried. From there, Drakyr directed him to rest against her chest.

"Close your eyes and breathe with me," she said quietly. "Even if it's just for a moment. You'll feel better for it."

"I already do," Aymeric breathed.

[bentnotbroken1fanfiction]

I posted 768 times in 2022

That's 521 more posts than 2021!

54 posts created (7%)

714 posts reblogged (93%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@memes-saved-me

@bentnotbroken1fanfiction

@meowmeowbilly

@lazybakerart

@ariesbilly

I tagged 179 of my posts in 2022

#harringrove - 49 posts

#billy hargrove - 44 posts

#steve harrington - 25 posts

#writing - 11 posts

#max mayfield - 9 posts

#fanfiction - 8 posts

#bruises - 8 posts

#lol - 8 posts

#stranger things - 8 posts

#bruises on both my knees for you - 8 posts

Longest Tag: 127 characters

#fanfic writers and readers are the only ones that care so much about him that we see every fucked up thing that happened to him

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Posting something that I added to AO3 a long time ago but can't find on my blog. If you've already read it, sorry. But I thought I'd add it to tumblr while I wait to finish some things I'm working on.

Billy lights a cigarette. Not because he needs one, he doesn't need much of anything anymore, but to give his mouth something to do while he fills Harrington's grave with dirt. 

The pretty boy owes him big time for this. Billy had plans for tonight. Plans that he had to cancel because someone decided to stumble into a den of the undead. And yeah, he didn't have to drag his bitten and dying ass out here and give him his blood, but he couldn't just let an ass as fine as that become little more than a snack. 

And sure , maybe his reasons for doing this are that shallow, but he's still doing him a solid. Billy never wanted to sire anyone, so this is totally out of character for him to begin with. Harrington is damn lucky he's still pretty. 

He heaves more dirt over him. 

Why the fuck was he even at that warehouse anyway? He had zero business being on that side of town, on his side of town. Maybe he should ask him once he climbs his way free. Then smack him upside the head for being a complete moron. Who walks into empty creepy buildings in the middle of the night? 

Harrington apparently. 

IU must not have a class on street smarts. 

He huffs a laugh at the thought of the boy taking that kind of class as he continues his work, and it only takes a few more seconds to fill it all in. 

He pats the dirt with the shovel and smirks, "Sleep tight, sweetheart. See you tomorrow." 

-

Harrington crawls into his new life as gracefully as Billy thought he would, which is not at all . He stumbles away from the grave on shaky legs and searches around frantically, fear and panic evident on his dirt smeared face. Once he sees Billy sitting on the hood of his Camaro, his eyes grow comically wide. 

"What the fuck? What the fuck is going on? Did I just climb out of a fucking grave? Did you bury me alive, Hargrove?" 

"Calm down, Princess. I saved your sorry ass. You'd be a bloodless corpse in a basement right now if I hadn't gotten you out of there." 

"Out of where? What are you talking about?" 

"Holy shit, you have no idea what you walked in on, do you?" 

Confused, he answers, "No?" 

"Jesus Christ, you really are an idiot." He throws the other boy a towel to get some of the grime off his skin. 

"Gee, thanks." He scowls, but he takes the offering and starts wiping himself off. 

Billy sighs, "I don't know why you were at that warehouse, Harrington, but whoever sent you probably wanted you to die," He watches the towel pause on his face, "or at the very least, beat to shit."

"I was there to hook up with a guy." He admits quietly. "He picked the meet up place."

And Billy knows he was the only human in that building last night, so that means that one of the other vampires had set him up. It's not like Billy's never hooked up with a dinner date, but that wasn't what was going on there. He had thought it was just an accident and that they had gotten carried away. But no, they had planned to suck him dry until Billy intervened. 

It pisses him off because they don't have to do that anymore. They don't have to wait so long between feedings now. They don't get so lost in their hunger that they kill all of their meals. So killing humans these days is unnecessary. It's an archaic practice that Billy despises. 

Fuck. 

Now he would have to watch out for those bastards. 

"I know it was stupid, and I should have left when I saw how creepy the place was, but I just really needed to get laid." 

He laughs at that. He can't help it. "I wouldn't have thought King Steve would end up literally dying for some dick." 

"Oh, fuck you, Hargrove." He growls. "Act like you don't gag for it too." 

Billy raises a brow. "Gag for it, huh? No, I'm not the one gagging, pretty boy." 

See the full post

138 notes - Posted June 5, 2022

#4

Posting a little bit of that Harringrove A/B/O I wrote last night. It needs some work but it's been fun working on it.

-

The first thing that Billy notices when he walks into his assigned cabin is that there is an odd smell in the air. It's faint. Nothing super obvious. Nothing harsh or musty, but just…different. Almost pleasant. He was prepared for all the insane amounts of Alpha pheromones permeating the camp grounds, the testosterone, even the B.O., so it was a welcome scent to be honest. 

He quickly forgets about it though, when he leaves to sign in and get the schedule for this weeks activities and the list of campers under his watch. 

But at the mess hall later, his nose twitches and he realizes that he's picking up the same scent he found in the cabin. It seems slightly familiar now…and it's coming from the camp counselors table. 

He isn't sure who it's coming from, but now that he's closer to the source he can pick up the familiar underlying smell…it almost smells like Max when she…

But there's no way. This is an Alpha camp. It's impossible for anyone to get in without having already presented…but yet…he's definitely picking up omega. 

He looks around in alarm trying to see if anyone else is noticing this. But everyone is laughing, eating, and horsing around. He's the only one that seems to be bothered. 

What the fuck is going on? Maybe he's imagining things. He's gotta be. 

Right? 

Yeah. He's just sensitive lately. That's all. 

So he ignores the feeling in his gut that something isn't right and eats his dinner and jokes with the other counselors and tries to hide the fact that his nose is tingling and his skin is itchy. 

But later, when he walks back into the cabin to meet the brats he's in charge of, he stops dead in his tracks. He can't ignore his instinct here. 

It's Jasmine…and honey…and something woodsy. And while it's not really strong, it's concentrated and more noticeable.  

The other counselor assigned to this cabin is already chatting with the kids and when he looks over to Billy he lifts a hand in greeting and Billy just knows. 

It's him. It's definitely him. 

He's the one.

Billy introduces himself. 

Turns out, the guys name is Steve Harrington and he's about to be a senior at Hawkins High. He's in the program to gain some extra curriculars for his college resume.  

And he's the prettiest thing that Billy has ever seen.

But he can't ask questions here. They've got a cabin full of newly presented 13 and 14 year olds. It's not the time or place to discuss this. 

So he just stays awake all night, keeping watch. Just in case. 

But nothing happens. 

That day or the next. 

But Billy does notice that as the days pass, the smell strengthens a little and now it's  affecting him. It puts him on edge. Makes him want to get close. Makes him want to protect…and that is not something that happens to him.

So he's gotta be right.

The only problem is that he doesn't know how to go about this. Steve Harrington seems to be pretty popular among the staff, the counselors, and the kids alike. He's asked around and he found out he's somewhat of a leader at his school. Nickname King Steve. 

So someone like that? Probably wouldn't want someone like Billy questioning him about his status. 

But he can't ignore it. It would be wrong. So he musters up the courage to approach him one night after the kids go to bed and they're all hanging out by the fire. 

"Hey, Harrington. Got a minute?"

See the full post

147 notes - Posted June 10, 2022

#3

So for me, Steve's six little nuggets speech was less endearing and more upsetting. Mostly because of the reason behind him wanting that so badly.

The boy is lonely as fuck.

He wants a big family so he won't ever be alone again. If he has kids, he will always have someone to love and who loves him unconditionally no matter what.

So, yeah. It more broke my heart than made me go "Aw Steve. He's so adorable wanting a bunch of kids and an RV to go on road trips with. UwU."

194 notes - Posted July 6, 2022

#2

Based on this lovely art by @angryhuangyu

Just imagine Billy waking up in Steve's body... 

He would wake up and stretch...and realize his ribs don't hurt like they should. His head isn't throbbing and his lip isn't pulling tight. It's strange because, after the argument last night, they definitely should be. So he opens his eyes and is met with an unfamiliar ceiling in an unfamiliar room. But when he looks in the mirror he does see a familiar face.

And of course, there's a freak out because what the actually fuck, but he would quickly deduce that if he's in Harrington's body, that means Harrington is in his. 

And if Billy had a typical white picket fence family, he would totally take the opportunity that fate has given him and run with it. He would love to just fuck with King Steve. He would love to just relax in his castle, drinking fancy booze, watching TV, and taking a dip in that sweet inviting swimming pool. 

But he doesn't have that kind of family. 

He doesn't have a nice suburban dad that thrives on a strong sense of family and community. He has the kind that thrives on pain and punishment. 

Which means Harrington is in serious trouble. Because he knows that he's going to wake up and wonder why he feels like shit. He's going to get up and try to leave. (He won't be able to because Billy is grounded.) He will come face to face with his Dad, not knowing what he can and can't say, not knowing the rules. 

He's going to say or do something wrong.

And then he's quickly going to find out the secret Billy has been trying so fucking hard to keep. 

And yeah, that fact would be irritating and embarrassing as fuck, but that's not what has him in a panic trying to find the stupid keys to the Beemer. 

It's the fact that as much shit as Billy gives him, Harrington doesn't deserve to be on the receiving side of Neil Hargrove's anger. 

No one but Billy does. 

199 notes - Posted July 16, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

It's been so long since Billy has heard another person's voice, but now he hears her. Soft but clear in the red tinted darkness. 

"Dear, Billy." 

It's Max. 

His heart beats just a little faster because that's impossible. She can't be here. No one can be here. No one but him. Him and the monster. 

But despite what he knows as a fact, his ears are still picking up that ghostly sound. 

"I don't know if you can even hear this." 

He follows it. Drawn like a moth to a flame. It's not like he wants Max to be subjected to this hellscape, but…

He stops where the voice is the loudest. 

At a gravestone….

With his name on it.

What the fuck?

"Ever since you left, everything's been," she pauses, "….a total disaster."

He looks around. She's not actually there, but he can still sense her presence. 

What the hell is going on?

He waits for her to keep going, but can only hear her quiet breaths, so he sits down, back against the mossy stone slab.

Waiting.

"For awhile we tried to be happy," she finally continues, "Normal. "

There's so much pain in that word. Even though he can't see her, he knows she's been suffering. 

"I know that's impossible…too much has happened…nothing will ever be normal again…" 

Billy understands. God how he understands. 

"I just…" her voice falters. "I just hope that at least you're finally happy…wherever you are." 

His throat tightens, because he's not…He's not happy. And…

"I'm right here, Max." He whispers to the empty space before him. "I'm right here." 

252 notes - Posted April 13, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[hautevaux]

@gcldfanged asked: 🎲 MEME: kiss roulette. inspired by the infamous “i want the k” meme by deactivated tumblr user tastcful. send 🎲 to generate a kiss! potential suggestive/nsf.w themes may appear RESULT: A Kiss Along the Jawline || Still Accepting ||

"I do wonder why you keep coming here ~" Vaux comments idly, the line of his gaze currently focused on the fabric pattern in front of him that he is in the intricate process of cutting out. It's late very late in fact, and the door to the Boutique had been locked when he'd heard a tap to the windows out the back - briefly startled before letting in a familiar face. "Other than to request my aid as some variety of decoy in your little... Missions."

He was behind on work, swamped by the upcoming Gala and in need of focusing on the mental mountain of things he had yet to do. Now, however, he was partially distracted and endlessly curious as to what he owed the pleasure for the visit.

"-- so, come on then, darling ~ you must be here for a reason. You may as well tell me, instead of standing there quietly." Vaux continues, deciding to put down his pair of scissors in favour of offering his full and entirely undivided attention. When naught came, his brow quipped once more - folded arms released to hang by sides with a heaved and rather purposely dramatic sigh.

Booted feet approached, long fingers reaching forward to fix his company's lapels, feigning judgment for a passing moment before a cheekier smile drew to features. He raises to tiptoes leans close enough to his breath skates along the others throat before he angled his head, just enough to pepper three kisses along his jaw - slowly.

"All you need to do is ask nicely." He whispers, simply slinking through the archway to collect more material.

[bardchoices]

gonna be quietly working on stuff I owe; to anyone wishing to interact, feel free to send in some memes! <3

[lindenforest]

i know im the sane one in this discussion as there are like, entire fanfic exchange formats, that hinge on anonymous reading and anonymous WRITING even - like the kink memes. people are aware they are not obligated to air their every kink to every internet rando. and not even every kink - i saw a bunch of entirely sfw works on ao3 and even good old ffnet with "kink meme deanon" in the title/tags. an anon requested each of them.

i do not tend to go there but i know of their existence and a bit about how they operate.

and they know their anonymous asker probably wont reshare your response to their prompt anywhere and give you clout, and they are fine with it. theyre happy with the anonymous feedback the asker leaves, without wanting their entire fic reading history. and theyre not frothing at the mouth that someone dare not to just read, but to ASK for fic without identifying themselves.

all i wanted to say is there are always people who are going to read quietly. even people who dont have a tumblr may, heavens forbid, read your fic! all i wanted to say is that if you say you will block people for liking, they would just prefer to not let you know they were here at all! thats it!

i was doing nothing at first on ao3. then realized just giving kudos is easy and does not have to put my name to it but still makes the authors day a little better. then trying writing small comments even if under an anon identity. baby kitten steps. if you dont discourage someone from just liking at first, then maybe later they can get comfier with leaving comments/reblogging/putting tags?? see my header 👆 small steppy is better than no steppy.

or they dont. but you know they went on your page and caught up with everything you have written - how cool is that??? someone didnt just find you on the dash, but went looking for you. thats so great?

those writers are giving the energy of that incident when si//ms pat//reon mods creators who put identifiers in their patr//eon downloads and put people on blast publicly for sharing with someone. except here, they didnt even take any sale or paid content from you. is there really a place for this behavior? for this fighting over who owes whom more? its fandom. freely given. freely taken.

to end on a positive note, i love the writers whom i left anon feedback, i love when they responded to it happy, and i know i could give them my love without having to give them my reading history, or interests, or the little notes about my life, and it doesnt matter that i didnt give them that. i gave the love and it was enough.

happy spring. 🐇

[robinpixels]

for the ask meme, give me full forgefire rundown

@melikochan THANK YOU BOTH FOR MY LIFE I OWE YOU MY FIRSTBORN

ask meme here!!

who is more likely to hurt the other?

Oh, Aloy, definitely. This prickly little cactus getting accustomed to affection and care given freely, no obligations attached? Nothing expected back of her aside than work to keep the relationship mutually alive? Unheard of.

With Varga also being a very straightforward and direct, also hands-on kind of person with her love, maybe prodding a bit too hard at sore spots Aloy's not quite ready to tackle yet with intent to help not hurt, it still leaves Aloy off-kilter for a while and might snap and retreat to keep things at arm's length so she doesn't have to talk about it. Varga seems like she suffers fools just about as well as Aloy does, however, so to be honest I think she'd be VERY hard to hurt but definitely hold Loy to account if she ever goes too far.

who is emotionally stronger?

They're both VERY emotionally resilient, in their own ways, both I can see having gone through a lot when it comes to that. They just have different approaches--Varga quips and jokes about her turmoils and trauma to make light of it and make things more bearable, whereas Aloy intends to keepit riight by her chest until one day she fucking dies, and avoids having to deal with her own feelings as long as humanly possible.

However, I think Varga's more self-aware. She gives off the air of somebody who's acknowledged the problem, and has done some significant work in moving past it, and is really just well into recovery with a pretty decently healthy outlook on her situation. SO she can afford to give Aloy a helping hand with her own struggles and stand by and be patient for her--Patient, but not permissive.

who is physically stronger?

Varga's stronger when it comes to lifting heavy weights and direct power due to her build and the nature of her work! Forged like an Oseram through and through, that one.

who is more likely to break a bone? 

Aloy--squirrel of a girl who runs around and climbs and jumps and pulls off some really risky acrobatic maneuvers. She's bound to fuck up her leg at least once if she hasn't already.

who knows best what to say to upset the other? 

While Aloy can bring snappy words if she feels she's been pushed into too much of a corner and get Varga to back off..I think it's Varga here. Not in the sense that she's deliberately trying to upset Aloy or start off an argument--More in the sense that she can see right through her.

Aloy trying to escape having to confront something uncomfortable about herself, and Varga quietly dropping an observation about her that leaves her thinking hard on it for hours.

who is most likely to apologise first after an argument? 

Varga--she's moved well past the stage of needing to have the final say in an argument (thanks, Burgrend).

who treats who’s wounds more often? 

Varga--idiot reckless hunter gf gets herself in all KINDSA scrapes, smh.

who is in constant need of comfort? 

Tbh, I feel they seek it both about the same amount. They're both pretty independent and used to doing their own thing with indignation instead of validation being received..but they gotta admit, the validation is pretty nice.

who gets more jealous? 

Aloy since she's constantly fighting for her life against Varga's own weaponry on who's being called 'beautiful' and 'a good girl' that day lmao

who’s most likely to walk out on the other?

Both, again in a 'I need to cool down before we continue this conversation/I need space' kind of beat. Though Aloy more often/likely than Varga, who's harder to rile up.

who will propose? 

....Loy...because Varga really doesn't want to impose anything on her/'tie her down' or show that she expects her to settle with her.

who has the most difficult parents?

...While Burgrend isn't the BEST I don't think he'd give them much trouble. Things at most might be frustrating, and awkward, but they kind of give each other a wide berth. I'm sure Varga's mother would be nice enough.

who initiates hand-holding when they’re out in public? 

Varga, just to see Loy's ears go red lmao

who comes up for the other all the time? 

Aloy, coming up to see Varga up in Longnotch or wherever she's stationed every so often!

who hogs the blankets? 

Aloy. Varga sleeps without them just fine.

who gets more sad? 

Loy wears her emotions on her sleeve a lot, so I'd say you can notice her getting sad more often (mostly because she masks it with either frustration or anger and goes to kick a rock or sulk somewhere or something)

But they get sad about the same amount, Varga just masks hers by putting a smile on and just throwing herself back into work.

who is better at cheering the other up? 

Varga--but Aloy's getting good at it!!

who’s the one that playfully slaps the other all the time after they make silly jokes?

VARGA--A whole lotta elbow shoving between the two of them and "Oh, you sneaky little Glinthawk--"

who is more streetwise?

Both of them!! Aloy travels everywhere, and Varga essentially works retail. Could not get the jump on either if you tried.

who is more wise?

Varga, I feel, honestly. She's been up in the Cut for like two years this girl's had time to Think.

who’s the shyest? 

Aloy tends to be more reserved...unless you get a few Scrappersaps in her or even just put up a challenge for her stone-cold sober--she'll start on her peacocking REAL quick as Varga very well enables lmao

who boasts about the other more? 

Oh Varga's CONSTANTLY running her mouth off about Aloy, and Aloy always praising Varga's work on her weaponry wherever she travels--they're both guilty aha

who sits on who’s lap? 

Aloy, the rascal cat, since there's plenty of Varga to snuggle on~

[currentfandomkick]

Selina Steals a Bug from Batman to get her Kitten.

blame this post here for this thing's inspiration, and a friend for encouraging this.

--

             Selina paused when she saw ‘the lost Wayne’ news. She knew Bruce didn’t adopt another kid and forget to tell her—Dick kept her up-to-date on his new siblings and sent her pictures. No, her boyfriend Bruce Wayne would certainly not hide a new Wayne from her.

             He absolutely would forget to introduce her to a new family friend or potential bat. She was still upset about how long it took him to admit that little Stephanie had been working with his son for months and he hadn’t thought to invite the girl over for a meal or two when Selina was over. It wasn’t like she didn’t already know Tim was dating another vigilante… it was that one of her not-technically-my-sons was not introducing her to someone who had saved his life multiple times and who happened to be another Gotham vigilante and another addition to the batfam.

             Selina is their unofficial mother after all, she has rights. Any possible members of their little bat family, and she must assess them. at the very least, teach them more than just Bruce’s habits. The man was horrendous at showing his actual emotions, and the kids would need a counter example to that—herself obviously.

             So imagine Selina’s surprise when she decided to surprise her boyfriend and his children with a visit, only to find a young teen drinking out of Tim’s favorite mug, wearing one of Dick’s more infamous Nightwing hoodie’s, and looking at one of Damian’s katana’s carefully.

             “Who are you?” Selina had a feeling this was the latest “not a Wayne” and she would have to ensure her bats were safe from a fellow thief… again.

             The teen looked up, almost startled by her appearance and nearly dropping the katana.

             Selina raised an eyebrow.

             The teen flushed. “Marinette.”

             “And what,” Selina strolled over to the table and sat on its edge. “Exactly are you doing with all of these?”

             The girl was smart enough to look a bit embarrassed, she'd give her that much. Not without shame. Good.

             “Well, uh, kind of complicated, but, uh, the boys said that I couldn’t manage to grab their favorite things.”

             Selina looked the girl over. She was probably the new one to the group, the spotted French girl Jagged Stone mentioned in a few of his songs. She was young, and clearly good at getting what she wanted.

             “Where’s Jason’s?”

             “Uh, how did you…”

             “Answer the question.”

             “… behind the gardener’s shed. He really needs to stop leaving his keys in easy access pockets.”

             Selina nodded, looking over the girl. She was twisting a familiar looking ring… wasn’t that one of the Wayne family rings!?

             “How did you get that off Bruce?” Selina feigned nonchalance.  

             “… don’t judge me.”

             “Too late. Talk.”

             “Accidentally, I swear, just, he left the safe open and mid-terms stress and then…” the girl gestured helplessly.

             Selina could appreciate the honesty. She could also appreciate that the girl managed to get something off each boy.

             But now came the real test.

             “Kleptomaniac kind?”

             The girl flushed harder. “Yeah… I was going to return it, eventually… I think.”

             Selina looked over the girl once more, suddenly seeing an opportunity she should have taken back when she first saw Tim stalking her bats way back when. She could use her own mini.

             “How do you feel about cats?”

             Marinette shifted gears at that. “Real, memes, or Chat Noir?” Selina could feel there was a story there, one for another time. “If we’re talking real, they’re amazing, the memes are fun and Chat is…” the girl shook her head. “Complicated. And in London apparently, so he can’t judge me for my poor life choices.”

             Oh, Selina likes this one. “I’m guessing you’re Brucie’s latest pet project?”

             Marinette scrunched up her face at that. “I’m here to force a sense of fashion on this family if it kills me.”

             Selina smiled at that. “Oh, I do believe we’re going to get along wonderfully.” She extended her hand. “I go by Catwoman in the field.”

             Marinette paused for a moment before taking the extended hand with a grin of her own. “Ladybug—though we might want to go with something else for this... how do you feel about panjas bracelets?”

             Selina’s grin grew. “Oh, we’re going to get along perfectly.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

             In the Batcave there was a meeting being held by a distressed Nightwing, impatiently waiting for the others to finish arriving.

             “Batgirl?”

             “She’s not on tonight,” Red Robin answered, quietly sipping his espresso in one of his lesser mugs. It seems like his bean got to his favorite earlier…

             “Black Bat?” Nightwing asked Batman.

             “She’s running with the Birds of Prey tonight—Oracle’s idea.”

             Nightwing seemed to accept this. “I’ll just forward them the power point.”

             Red Robin groaned. “Another one?”

             Red Hood shook his head. “Blame B. He got it in Dickie’s head that this is how you explain things to people. Bullet points.”

             “No names in the field,” Robin snapped.

             “No names in the field,” Red Hood mocked under his breath.

             Robin glared at him for that.

             “It’s a very effective method.” Batman stated defensively.

             “Yeah, on the League,” Red Robin grumbled into his coffee. The Batfam is full of (not really) professional detectives—they are capable of understanding without the bullet points of doom. Mostly.

             “Then I’ll just get started, Agent A, Lights!”

             The batcave dimmed to show only the projection of a power point title slide ‘Marinette Cannot Meet Selina, Ever.’

             “What the hell is this?” whispered Red Hood.

             “I allowed you to delay patrol, for this?” Batman sighed.

             “Silence! Nightwing is speaking.”

             “Thank you Robin, now, Marinette is under no circumstances to meet Selina.”

             “Why doesn’t he have to use codenames?” Red Hood wondered aloud. Only to be kicked by an aggressive Robin. “Ow! What the hell demon spawn!”

             “Silence,” Robin hissed.

             “As I Was Saying,” Nightwing loudly began. “Marinette is not allowed to meet Selina. It would be a disaster for us all.”

             “Its not she’d adopt her like a certain someone is trying to,” Red Hood stated, pointedly ignoring Robin’s attempts to silence him with threats of violence.

             Nightwing changed the slide with a sigh. “Exhibit A: Marinette enjoys shiny things, and so does Selina.”

             The slide showed two pictures, one of Marinette in various miraculous while holding one of Damian’s daggers, and the other of Selina with a very large gemstone necklace.

“Exhibit B, they are both prone to theft.”

             The next slide showed Catwoman stealing a necklace from a museum, and Marinette in Batman’s cape while using Tim’s phone and wearing one of Jason’s leather jackets, Titus laying at her feet.

             “Marinette does not stop at shiny things, as we can expect of Selina,” Robin explained.

             “You’re just mad Pixie managed to get past your security.”

             Robin glared at Red Hood.

             “That doesn’t explain why bean shouldn’t meet Selina,” Red Robin said. “Hm, maybe I should change the bean blend again? not getting enough of a buzz.”

             Nightwing sighed, changing the slide again. “If the two meet, we lose all we hold dear.”

             This time the slide showed a photoshopped Marinette and Selina sitting on a pile of miscellaneous objects.

             Batman sighed, deciding his eldest was just being overdramatic again.

             “Mari will learn new tricks from Selina.” Nightwing stated slowly. “Tag team with Selina, maybe even be the Robin to her Batman.” That got the room’s attention, albeit not the kind Nightwing wanted. “It would not just be Mari’s minor thefts anymore.”

             Red Robin rolled his eyes while Red Hood snorted a “yeah right.”

             Robin looked nervously as Nightwing finished his powerpoint.

             “Mari would rule Gotham and no one, not even us, would be able to stop her.”

             Batman decided that they wasted enough time on Nightwing’s bout of paranoia. “I highly doubt Selina would corrupt her.”

             At that moment a beaming stripped heroine walked in, wearing a new string of necklaces, with Catwoman at her side with an amused look of her own.

             “How dare you try to hide a kitten from me.”

             Nightwing threw his hands up. “I told you!”

             Batman stared while Robin began checking their systems… no alarms had gone off anywhere and they all knew the pair had stolen the necklaces that Marinette was sporting.

             Nightwing was right.  

             “Holy shit is this really happening?” Red Robin half-whispered, looking back and forth between the pair and a shocked Batman. “Is Catmom pulling a Batdad?”

             Catwoman flashed a smile. “Since someone wouldn’t let me take any birdies, I decided to take a kitten of my own.”

             “Why didn’t you tell me I could have more moms here!” Marinette exclaimed.

             At the groups growing look of horror, Catwoman’s grin grew. “Oh, I forgot to mention, Harley and Ivy are back. They want joint custody. She’s the Marigold Harley’s been tweeting about.”

---

first thing i do after getting real internet back plus have the time to think, and its write and post this. hope you all enjoyed!

[pokegalla]

Just a Regular Day

I stretched and rolled around my bed for a bit. For a moment, I forgot where I was…I blinked a few times before forcing myself up. After freshening up, I walked down the castle’s long hallway. Right…I’m staying with the bad sanses. I know in my stories and even some people in the fandom say that they’re pretty cool….but shouldn’t I still be concerned that they could still kill me with no remorse….?

I slapped my face a bit and cupped my cheeks. Stop being such a chicken. YES they are murderers and YES they could kill you….but hell so can a rock. Or a dedicated animal. Besides not everyone is born evil….and they had a rough past. They aren’t really just….need help. A lot. Oh what’s the worst that could happen?

“Heads up,” Someone shouted. A woosh sound flew past my face and I turn to see a knife had almost hit me. Ah yes….accidental death by zooming sharp objects thrown by magical skeletons. The ‘fuck go back’ meme is popping in my head….no! I must be strong! I just smile and head to the coffee machine. Maybe coffee can help me….

“Hey kitten~. I see you’re finally up. How’d yah sleep?” I looked to see it was Killer who asked. I gulp slightly. Honestly I haven’t slept well since Nightmare’s deal required my negativity….so that meant having bad dreams as well.

But I just smile, “Pretty good. But I’m always tired. Just need my bean juice and I’ll be alright.”

I noticed he gave me an understanding look. He and the others must be aware of the deal….I finished making my coffee and sat to drink it. After awhile I felt a tap on my shoulder. I went stiff seeing Horror behind me, standing menacingly. But I quickly relaxed seeing a plate of food.

“Here….I made this….for you,” He said quietly. He looked pretty bashful presenting the plate.

“Really? For me? You didn’t have to….what about you? Didn’t YOU eat yet,” I asked. Why oh why do I ask so many questions-?

Horror just placed the plate in front of me, “Just eat.”

Honestly I didn’t even hesitate. It smelled incredible….and oh my god it tasted incredible!

“Thank you so much! It tastes amazing,” I said happily. Horror gave me a large, sweet smile. Killer smiled at the interaction while Dust rolled his eye lights. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all….

“A prank,” I asked.

“Yup. On ol’Dusty. Me and Horror already set it up,” Killer said.

Horror nodded eagerly, “It’s gonna be….epic.” I kinda doubted that it’s gonna end epic….

Killer picked up on my worry, “Don’t worry kitten. We’re experts at this! Tell yah what….why don’t you be our little cameraman? Just film his reaction.”

“But uh what if Dust gets mad…?” I asked.

“Don’t worry….I’ll protect you~,” Killer said flirtatiously. For some reason I feel more concerned. But I decided to film it anyway as we hid behind some furniture. We waited until Dust came in. Killer pointed at the chair, a swivel chair at that with a blow horn at the bottom. Huh….never seen this prank before. Dust didn’t notice it and he looked around suspiciously before sitting down….only to jump back up, falling on his tailbone from the loud noise. We all laugh, completely giving ourselves away.

“GEEEEEET HONKED ON,” Killer shouted. Dust glared at us and began glowing. Oh shit….Killer quickly picked me up bridal style as we all ran from Dust’s attacks. Jeez he’s trying to kill us!!! Horror then grabbed Killer as well and managed to outrun Dust. We all laughed even more.

“That was….awesome,” Horror managed to say.

“Beautiful work as well cameraman! You even filmed the chase! Told yah I would protect you~” Killer said. I rolled my eyes and smiled as I gathered some things.

“Yes yes you did as promised. And I owe you my life good sir,” I said jokingly.

“Whatcha doing though kiddo?” Horror asked.

“Giving a gift to Dust. Don’t want him to stay mad y’know? It’s only fair….at least that’s how I feel. I’ll just leave it by his door….” I said.

Killer tilted his head, “Aw that’s nice of yah.” They followed me as I left the ‘gift’ for Dust. We hid again and watched Dust see it…..a bottle of premium ketchup and a plate of spaghetti for Papyrus. His eyes widen and sees the note with it. A little apology note from all three of us. Dust stared at it before smiling a bit.

“Dumbasses….fine. Yeah I forgive yah,” Dust muttered.

“Awwww you dooooo~?” Killer said jumping out of hiding to hug him.

Dust growled, “Don’t ruin it.” I smiled at the three. These guys….are even better than the stories.

Just random fluff and scenarios….but I want to write a second part since this got mad long and I still need Error and Nightmare. Welp until then, enjoy!

[spectralscathath]

Bulldogs (Adam/Marrow) headcanons, owo?

Okay I don't think I've recently reblogged any ship headcanon ask meme thingies recently, but let's use that general idea as a sort of base. So. Bulldogs. Let's go.

My headcanon for Bulldogs is that they're childhood friends in Mantle, who both worked in the mines together as children. Marrow worked as a trapper, specifically, look that up if you want to get really mad at coal miners in the 1800s, and Adam pulled carts through areas adults couldn't fit in. Life sucked for them both, but that's what forges strong friendships that, unfortunately, do not get to prevail due to the SDC being The Worst.

Years later, after everything Happens, Adam is arrested. Marrow decides 'I can change him' because he feels like he kinda owes the guy after the event where Adam got branded, and so now we have uneasy roommate rehabilitation.

There is a lot to sort out. Like, a lot a lot. On both ends. Going to couples therapy before you even become a couple ftw.

They don't talk about the brand.

Marrow: when you have to live with your best friend who you loved before you even knew what love was and then spent the rest of your life pining and then they come back all in black and red and angsty and murdering people and it's not good morally but it's also really not good when that crush you tried to forget comes back with a vengeance and then you're living together with all that unspoken stuff, that's relatable, right? Harriet: Marrow what the fuck.

I like to think Marrow confesses first by accident, likely during an very emotional moment where the words 'I love you' slip out, it's probably angsty because we're not here for the fluff yet. Adam is poleaxed, moment over immediately, they're just left staring at each other.

Marrow jumps out a window to avoid unpacking all that.

But anyway they have another emotional moment eventually, and they start working through Emotional Vulnerability too.

Relationship get!

Now we can talk fluff.

Adam is a morning person by force and not choice. Now that he doesn't have to get up for mine shifts, survival, or white fang duties, he will sleep in til, like, noon. Marrow is just as bad when he doesn't have work, what is a morning.

They subsist only on the goodwill of Elm and takeout. Elm is a marvellous cook who has kept Marrow alive with a variety of bakes, casseroles, and soups for years. She now makes them all vegetarian. Adam is grateful. Marrow is not.

They're not really allowed have roadtrips until, like, 5 years in when Adam's been a Certified Good Noodle TM and his parole is lax enough that he can have supervised leave of the apartment. In order to prevent arguing they made a shared playlist and it's all punk, death metal, hip hop, and despite Adam's best efforts, a little bit of bubblegum pop. He maintains a great stoic face when those ones play.

They eventually talk about the brand.

They both do campaigning for faunus rights still, Marrow by using his Ace Op status, Adam by being a bitch to racists online because he's not actually allowed near any active faunus rights demonstrations due to his parole.

Sparring matches only ever happen hand to hand, because their weapon styles are so different, and it's generally a tie who wins. They're also both ridiculously competitive so there's actually no chance of sparring turning into makeout sessions, they spar to WIN (it also decides who cleans the tupperware).

Adam is already a crafts guy. He liked engraving, embroidery, all that sort of stuff. Then he suddenly has a lot of free time on his hands due to Mandated House Arrest. The hobby becomes a Lot More Integral.

There are many handmade ceramics and embroidered cushions and Weird Sculptures. They multiply. They've taken over what used to be Adam's bedroom. They're expanding into the main apartment like an infestation. Adam is proud of them. Marrow is quietly dreading whatever may come next. Jokes on him, it's Adam's Windchime Era.

They don't ever get married because they're cheap and also valid, but they do eventually change Marrow's address residence to say 'Amin-Taurus' on the apartment button buzzer sign. Marrow tried to put forward 'Taurus & Amin Co.' to make it sound official. Didn't work.

They eventually foster, way off in the future, when Adam has somewhat reintegrated into society and because Marrow is definitely a family person. They'd specifically try take in troubled faunus teenagers who got bounced around a lot and try to help them out, give them a home. Marrow is Nice and Adam is Stern, it works out better than expected. Lots of weekend visits. They feel content with life.

Marrow wears a scarf Adam embroidered everywhere. It always feels like a piece of home.

And here's what I got. Hope you enjoy, smols!

[angstyaches]

hello if you’re still taking prompts how about 😭 for my boy eli and ryan, because we don’t appreciate their relationship more <3🍄

wait NVM!!! i just read the new drabble you posted lmao we have the same brain??!

Dude. Literally. HOW did we both have the exact same thought?! 💀🖤

maybe you could write  😭 for hen and lucy?🍄

CW: hook-up gone wrong (nothing explicit), mentions of partial undress, crying.

Prompt Meme

😭 - A shoulder to cry on

Lucy drifted out of a nap to the sound of raised voices in the hallway. Her blood immediately quickened in her veins. There was a masculine-sounding voice that she didn’t recognise. 

The only other person who should have been at home was Henry, and that was certainly not his voice.

She shot upright, grabbing hold of the first object that caught her attention on the way to her bedroom door. It just so happened to be her electric toothbrush, which was perched on her nightstand. 

She flung open her door.

“This is absolute bullshit!” Some guy she’d never seen before was yelling towards the open door to Henry’s bedroom. He was in the middle of buttoning up his own pants. “You’re a fucking tease, you know that? You think you’re hot enough to pull off shit like this?”

“Hey,” Lucy called out. 

The guy flinched and spun around. Judging by the colour of his face, he was extremely angry, or... otherwise worked-up. Or both.

“What the fuck is happening?” the guy whispered, eyeing the toothbrush that Lucy was wielding like a knife. 

She pointed it into the guy’s face as she got closer to him, and he took an uneasy step back. The fact that it was a greasy, pink-haired girl in knickers and a half-buttoned plaid shirt threatening him with a toothbrush was probably throwing him for a loop.

This was one of Henry’s ever-changing consorts, for sure, and while it wasn’t abnormal for him to have a hook-up organised on Saturday afternoon, none of his companions had ever caused a scene before.

She glanced inside the bedroom, just to confirm that Henry was, indeed, there. He was in nothing but his boxers, his hair tipped over his forehead as he sat gripping the edge of his bed. 

“Henry? Who is this?” 

“Kyle,” Henry said sheepishly. “I’ve... I’ve asked him to leave -”

That was all Lucy had needed to hear.

“So, then what the fuck are you still standing in my flat for, Kyle?” she shouted. She relished the look on his face as she emphasised his name, as though she doubted it was his real one. “Get the fuck out!”

“With absolute pleasure.” 

Kyle didn’t wait to be told a third time. He muttered something inaudible - and, presumably, unsavoury - before heading for the door, and Lucy was strangely disappointed when it slammed shut without whacking the guy on the ass.

“Hen, are you okay?”

He didn’t respond because he was too busy clutching his head and sobbing quietly, tears dropping to his bare knees.

“Hen,” Lucy gushed. She sank onto the bed, scooping Henry’s torso into a tight hug. “Oh, hon, it’s okay, it’s okay...”

“I-I couldn’t... I didn’t want - I didn’t want to,” he choked out between heaving gasps. “I - I invited him here, and I - I didn’t...”

“That’s okay,” Lucy insisted, her voice hitting a low register in her desperation for him to hear her and really hear her. “Henry, you don’t owe that guy anything.”

He shook his head, lifting his hands to rub at his eyes. He was shaking all over, but somehow, the next sound to escape him was a laugh. 

“What?” Lucy asked.

“What in the name of God were you planning on doing to him with that?” Henry was looking at the electric toothbrush, which Lucy still had in a death-grip even as she hugged him. 

She leaned back, wagging the toothbrush from side to side. “Kill him. Why?”

Henry laughed again, wincing like it hurt him, before his face crumbled all over again. 

It took only a slight beckoning motion from Lucy for him to turn and tuck his head into the crook of her neck. Small whimpers ran through his body as she embraced him again. 

Heat thrummed through her blood, as violently as it had when she’d thought there was an intruder in their home; worry for her friend was mixed in there, yes, but mostly, her veins were running hot with anger.

[betrayher]

SIX MONTHS!!! six months to the DAY since i started writing this absolute hot mess of a lady. since then so much has happened - i’ve made so many new friends, and my life has changed in so many ways, most of them for the better. the community around this show is small but mighty and absolutely all thanks to @doctorobinson, bc without her i don’t think more than half of us would have ever seen it?? like. raise ur hand if it was stella who talked u into it. yeah. i see u.

writing smith comes with its challenges, but i think my favorite part about it is the evolution of her identity. i love nothing more than a sympathetic villain with a redemption arc but it goes beyond that even, into the territory of complete reinvention. the way she thinks of herself/presents herself changes completely over the course of the show and the way it’s coded (in both dialogue and occasionally costuming) makes me, a genderqueer mun, really happy. if you’ve been around for awhile u know i quietly hc her as genderqueer too. i just... really connect to this character, even if i think she’s a nasty little gremlin for like,, MOST of canon. especially then. i too am a nasty little gremlin. it is what it is.

anyway, here’s the “party” part. i want to celebrate those of you i’ve been writing with for awhile! those that have done intricate plotting with me, or that have developed a relationship between our muses through a bunch of threads since june. if you think that applies to you, feel free to comment and i’ll chuck her in your inbox with a little something that commemorates that relationship!

and for all the new friends - consider this a bit of a plotting call! i’m so excited to get to know you and your muse/s. i have so many aus that smith can fit in and i always love adapting new ones! let’s go on some adventures together :)

aside from all that, i will be rbing memes (and character posts from my archive) all day as i work on the bio i’ve been trying to put together for like,, a week now. i do owe a few starters, which i will be attempting to get through over the course of the day as well. you’re probably gonna get sick of me on dash! im sorry! such is the way of the smithaversary! 

[fallout-lou-begas]

Elevated Extras: Ranger Ghost Companion

You a Courier? If so, this might be your lucky day...if you don't mind walking a bit and your eyes are good. 

(Original sketch by @tarberrymentats / based on the OC Companion Meme by @falloutfandomeventhub / if you borrow this concept please tag it as #fallout elevated extras)

General

Name: Ranger Ghost

Location: Mojave Outpost

How to obtain: Complete the sidequest “Keep Your Eyes on the Prize,” then begin the sidequest “Giving Up the Ghost” to get her reassigned from the Mojave Outpost. Once freed of her assignment, she can travel with the Courier to monitor Legion activity throughout the Mojave.

Companion Quest: “Giving Up the Ghost.”

Ranger Ghost, like everyone else, is sick and tired of being stuck at the Mojave Outpost. Unfortunately, orders are orders. With the courier’s help, though, she just might be able to come down from that rooftop, but dealing with NCR bureaucracy might be a worse ordeal than Legion crucifixion.

Companion Wheel

I think we should travel together. You probably can’t tell, but that’d make me very happy. Let’s get the hell out of here.

Let’s talk about your tactics. Sure. Lecture the ranger on tactics. Go ahead. / What’re you thinking?

I want you to change your combat style. (humoring) Alright. / If you insist.

Use a melee weapon. Close combat, then. / Sure. We can hold their hands and tuck them in while we’re at it. / (Wild Wasteland Enabled) Try to remember the basics of CQC.

Use a ranged weapon. (stating the obvious) It’s what I do. / You going to spot for me? / (deeply sarcastic) Aww. Finally remembered I’m a ranger?

Be passive. Sure, give peace a chance. / Don’t go pacifist on me, now.

Be aggressive: Locked and loaded. / (mocking the company line) Right, and with “extreme prejudice.”

Enough about tactics. Agreed. Anything else? / Are we good, then?

Let’s talk about how close you’re following me. Is there a problem? / What are you...implying, exactly?

Wait here. Right. Things to do, places to be? / Holding down here. / I’ll keep watch here.

Follow me. Let’s roll out. / Finally. Don’t like waiting. / Right. Skip to my fucking lou.

Stay close to me. (sternly cautious) Define “close.” / Got it, on you. / Just don’t bump my gun.

Keep your distance. Positioning, got it. / Yeah, covering you. / (facetious concern) Don’t get lost, now.

Let’s trade equipment. Don’t get fucking handsy, now. / Just don’t hog the ammo.

(Overburdened). I’m not your fucking pack brahmin. / (exasperated) I’ve only got so many pockets.

(Sneaking). Staying low. / (wryly imperative) Quiet, now.

(In Courier’s iron sights). What the fuck is wrong with you? / (slowly, emphasizing) Watch your trigger discipline. / Don’t make me take that away.

(Courier lays mine). I’ve got my eyes on that. / You’d better have a plan for that.

It’s time for us to part ways. It’s because i’m a bitch, isn’t it. / Such sweet fucking sorrow, I bet.

I’d like you to go to the Lucky 38. Hm. Sending the Ghost to the haunted house. See you there. I’ll try not to spook the Securitrons.

We can meet again at the Mojave Outpost. (sucks teeth) Guess I’ll report what I’ve got back to headquarters. Hopefully by now they’ve got someone else watching the brahmins shit full-time.

Injured: (seething) SSShhit. / Didn’t want it like this. / (with conviction) I didn’t get off that roof just to fucking bite it.

Damaged Limb: (shout of pain) Fucker clipped me! / Sure could use a fucking medic.

Regaining Consciousness: What...what the hell happened? / (trailing off) Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck...

Death: (death rattle) / (weakly) Ghosts...can die, huh...ha...

Attributes

Aggression: Aggressive.

Confidence: Brave.

Assistance: Helps friends and allies.

Karma: Neutral.

Perks

Ghost of a Chance: When Ranger Ghost is by your side, so are the odds. In addition to gaining an extra 3% chance to critically hit, any single attack that would kill you may instead leave you just barely alive and invulnerable for a brief moment..

Drops, if killed

Ranger Vest Outfit

Ranger Grey Hat

Authority Glasses

Cowboy Repeater

Combat Knife

Iguana Bits

Grognak the Barbarian

Dialogue, Quest Details, and Ending Slides:

Dialogue

Why do they call you Ghost? What, don’t I scare you? Boo? Nothing? (beat) Well, if you gotta know, it stuck pretty quick back in basic. Not like there were many other albinos in boot camp. The all-white spooky bitch who shoots better at night? Yeah, that’s a ghost, alright. Pissed me off at first, but I came around when it started giving privates the heebie-jeebies. Just a little kick, is all.

What’s an albino? Albinism is a pigment disorder. You know, the color of your skin and hair? As in I don’t have color. Pale as a sheet.

[Medicine 35] A sharpshooter with albinism? Isn’t your vision affected? Done your homework, huh? Well, these big, bad sunglasses aren’t just for intimidation, doc. They only come off when I sleep. Sucks enough being photosensitive in the goddamn desert, but like I said. I’m a lot better at night.

What’s your real name? (the thousandth time she’s answered this exact question) If I told you that, I’d have to kill you.

Aw, come on. Curiosity killed the courier. Don’t push it.

[Speech 40] I’m just trying to understand my partner better. Then “understand” that I don’t owe you shit except loyalty. Just call me Ghost, and you’ll get that.

[Cherchez La Femme] Surely you’ve got a name to match that lovely personality. (flustered) Are you d-...I-...Yeah, I do.But you can just keep calling me Ghost. (quietly) For...for now.

What’s the deal with Ranger Jackson? Man hasn’t got a thought in his fucking head...which is why he’s such a good C.O., from the top down. He’s a nice enough guy on a good day. He’s...principled, for sure. But the man wouldn’t budge on an order from brass if it’d save his life. Stranded caravaneers get so bored and restless because of the impasse he’s overseeing that he’s started (excessive emphasis) “hiring” the rowdier ones for odd jobs off the grounds, which is why we’ve been “losing” supplies for a while. Gets shit done, I guess, but wish he’d show half that drive when bitching to HQ, but no. They tell him to sit tight, he says yes sir, and then he takes it out on us when we get frustrated at the frustrating bullshit.

Do you know Major Knight? (standoffish) Yeah. Good guy. Known him a while. Hell, he’s been at M.O. longer than I have.

What does he do? Repairs, mostly. With all the caravans backed up, we sort of have a monopoly on maintenance and upkeep. And believe me, he does damn fine work.

[Confirmed Bachelor] Is he...you know…? Is he...oh. Between you and me? Yeah. He and I are...alike. I mean, I’m the bitch everybody hates, so I don’t really give a shit, but beneath that…(thinking how best to describe him, ribbing him a bit)...accountant exterior of his, he’s really the soft, sensitive type. Needs someone to talk to sometimes. I’m that someone, sometimes, but if you get the chance...it’d do him good just to know he’s not that alone out here.

How can I best use your skills? Hard to find a way that’d be worse than all the wasted time at M.O., but I’ll make it easy for you: give me a target and let me shoot it. If it’s too close to shoot, I’m trained in hand-to-hand, and if it’s too far to shoot, it’ll never see me coming. Standard repertoire for a ranger.

What’s your opinion on the NCR? High enough to keep me enlisted, low enough to where I’ve got plenty to mock. We’re a good country, a damn good country. We’re the only real country actually left in the West. We’d be the best thing to ever crawl out of the bombed-out ruins of this war if it weren’t for all the bureaucratic bullshit, and the brass getting duller the higher you go. It’s all just song and dance and sloganeering to them out here. Whatever looks good on paper. They don’t give a shit what really happens to people out here, and if Caesar doesn’t kill us, that might. At least on the inside.

What’s it like being a ranger? Ranger training is the best, most brutal gauntlet this side of the Colorado. Hours and hours of days and days spent shooting, drilling, fighting, bringing the body to its breaking points, pouring blood and sweat just to get an inch past the wide-eye hopefuls who were always going to just wash out...and all of it just to stand on a fucking rooftop staring at ants and malnourished raiders on the interstate. I swear, if you gave headquarters a golden egg, they’d fucking cook it.

Were you at the battle of Hoover Dam? Was going to be, but believe it or not, I sat out sick. Got the fucking flu right before and was stuck at McCarran the whole time, half-lucid. Let me tell you, the whole tent of coughs and sneezes crowding around that radio, listening to the reports...when Hanlon ordered that retreat out of Boulder City, we were grabbing our rifles and getting ready to march out on foot, even if we could barely stand. We thought that was it. Of course, it wasn’t, and we cheered so loud when they radioed about the explosion that I hope Caesar damn well heard it.

Do you wish that you had been there? Of course I do. If I miss the next one because I’m stuck at the Outpost or some shit, I’m deserting with a dozen fed-up caravaneers to flank his fucking fort myself, if only for some goddamn excitement.

How do you feel about the Legion? Love ‘em. Joined the NCR because I just wanted to meet them that bad. Their new Legate’s such a heartthrob, I hear.

You’re not serious. (sucks teeth, deep sigh) Look. You saw Nipton. It was just a taste of what they do. I’ve seen good men die on crosses, and that’s a mercy compared to the good women. I hear when women sign up now, they get about five extra “are you sures?” from recruiters. Not officially, of course. Brass would never let people back home know how bad it is. But it’s just another thing that makes me glad I’m a sniper, sometimes. Engage at range. Out of reach.

What about Legion society? Do you know anything about life across the river? There’s nothing across that river. Nothing. (beat, pondering) Do you remember the Enclave War? Bitter, bloody, big explosion at Navarro? And the Brotherhood campaign out here? Even worse of a shitshow, but still, we won that out, too. But the Enclave and the Brotherhood at least stood for something. They were societies, or at least promises of one, and if things had shaken out the other way for the NCR at least something would still be standing here. The Legion isn’t like that. They aren’t “something.” They’re one big razor across Arizona, shaving everything down. And if we don’t stop them here, we never will.

What about their Legate? (with contempt) Lanius, “The Monster of the East.” Caesar must’ve plucked him out of hell or something after his first legate blew it at Hoover Dam. Word from recon is that the only reason we’re all still twiddling our thumbs there is that he’s out making friends for Caesar someplace, and he’ll be bringing them all back for a whole ‘nother goddamn jamboree soon. (tension broken by a funny thought; spoken dryly) Or should I say a Damboree. Since it’d be at the Dam.

Do you know anything about Mr. House? No. Closest I’ve ever been to the Strip has been McCarran, where I was too proud to get wasted on expensive booze in the casinos. As punishment, I got stuck with nothing to do but get shitfaced on cheap booze at the outpost. All I know is Mr. House runs the whole Strip himself, and there’s one casino, the Lucky 36 or something, that’s supposed to be all his. No one’s allowed in, no one’s ever come out. Frankly? Just strikes me as fucking weird.

Companion Quest: Giving Up the Ghost

After completing the sidequest “Eyes On the Prize” (in which the Courier checks Nipton for survivors), Ghost will remark that the Mojave’s going to hell, and all she can do is sit and watch. The Courier will reply that she ought to stop watching and travel with them, to which she’ll respond that her orders are absolute—but if the courier can change her orders somehow, she’d be indebted. The quest then begins.

= = = Stage 1: Deal with Jackson = = =

First, the Courier must speak to Ranger Jackson and convince him to consider Ghost’s reassignment. They can do this through the following dialogue options:

[Speech 80] This outpost is just waiting to be overrun by Legion. You’ll be the next Nipton unless you’re proactive.

[Speech 55; completed “Can’t You Find It In Your Heart” beforehand] Maybe I could tell your superiors about where I “found” these “lost” supplies, then.

[Barter 80] Ghost is an exceptional asset to the rangers. Stationing her here is a waste of valuable NCR resources.

[NCR Fame] There’s work to be done for the NCR out there, and Ghost is who I trust to do it with me.

[Black Widow] I’ve ways of making men come around...especially handsome men in uniform. (The Courier must then sleep with Ranger Jackson)

Note that the Courier can not simply complete the quest “Can’t You Find It In Your Heart?” as a favor to Jackson for Ghost’s reassignment. While he’ll let a caravaneer go, it’ll take more than clearing some ants from the road to get him to compromise his standing force and let go of a ranger. 

Alternatively, Jackson’s death will advance the quest.

Kill Jackson. Similar to Cass’ companion quest, Jackson can simply be killed. However, Ghost is far less sympathetic to this course of action and will confront the Courier over the murder. If Jackson is simply killed, the Courier will either need a convincing alibi [Speech 90] to argue that they weren’t responsible or admit to the murder. If the Courier fails the Speech check or admits to the murder, Ghost will turn hostile (“Maybe you didn’t fucking think this through, but do you know what we call someone who kills an NCR ranger? An enemy of the NCR rangers. Now, eat shit.”). Alternatively, the Courier can intimidate Ghost into silence with a [Terrifying Presence] option, after which a shaken but seething Ghost will simply ask the Courier to leave the outpost and never come back. Passing the Speech check is the way to not fail the quest from this option.

Kill Jackson and frame Cass. If the Courier kills Jackson themself, attempting to loot Jackson’s body will trigger a message suggesting that they could frame Cass for the murder by splashing whiskey on the body (so long as Cass is not currently the player’s companion and is currently at the Mojave Outpost, not the Lucky 38). By adding a whiskey bottle to Jackson’s body without themself or the body being discovered in the meantime, they can successfully implicate Cass for the murder, and explain as much to Ghost. She’ll buy it, since Cass was one of the most frustrated residents of the outpost and was drunk almost all the time. Cass will then disappear from the game, and if Lacey, Major Knight, or Ghost (if the Courier left the outpost before speaking to her again) are asked, they will explain that Cass was arrested by the NCR.

Have someone else kill Jackson. A desperate, fed-up caravaneer named Paul by the brahmin pens is willing to kill Jackson for 5,500 caps. This price can be negotiated down to 4,000 with a [Barter 60] check, and 3,500 with [Barter 75]. At midnight that night, Paul will attempt to sneakily kill Jackson. Alternatively, Paul can be incensed into attacking Jackson immediately and for free with a [Hot Blooded] trait check. In either case, though, there is no guarantee that Paul will succeed, and if Paul is killed then the Courier must advance the quest another way (though they can loot their spent caps from Paul’s body). When spoken to afterwards, Ghost will remark that she saw the Courier speaking to Paul and ask if they had anything to do with it. By passing a [Speech 50] check, the Courier can convincingly lie that they were trying to talk him out of it. With either the [Black Widow] or [Cherchez la Femme] perks, the Courier can lie and say that Paul very foolishly did it to try to impress them. With [Low Intelligence] the Courier can earnestly say that they thought “taking care” of Jackson meant doing something nice for him.

Somehow allow Jackson to die. If Jackson just somehow dies in an unaccounted way, such as from a spawned-in deathclaw eviscerating him in his own office, Ghost will remark on the strangeness of the situation but won’t blame the Courier. This is a failsafe option to prevent quest breakage.

= = = Stage 2: Find a Replacement = = =

If Jackson is alive, he’ll agree with the Courier that he ought to let Ghost go, but he’s still under orders to maintain a standing force at Mojave—a standing force which includes a highly trained sniper. If Jackson has been killed, Ghost will mention that Major Knight is next in command and would be glad to give her clearance, but that he won’t be able to do so without a replacement sniper, either. Either way, the Courier is tasked with finding a suitable replacement. The Courier can ask her for advice:

Who should I look for to be your replacement? They have to be NCR, obviously. Ex-NCR might work, too, so long as they’re in good standing. Any Dick or Jane off the road is a no-go, since brass put the kibosh on officially contracting mercenaries. Oh, and anyone you get would have to be well-trained. Not necessarily a ranger, but good enough to replace one, even for a sit-on-the-shitter job like this. Only the best and brightest get to stare at this fucking road all day, apparently.

Where should I look for your replacement? If you checked out some of the ranger stations around the Mojave, they might be able to move some people around. Hell, take it all the way to McCarran if you want, or with Hanlon. If you’re going to give them shit on my behalf, by all means, go nuts. A lot of higher-ups can be greased with enough favors, anyway. Whoever you get just needs the right credentials. Legion attacks get dragged asses and twiddled thumbs, sure, but bad paperwork would set a goddamn fire at headquarters.

The following characters can be recruited as the Mojave Outpost’s new watch:

A generic ranger. By speaking to the commanding officers of at least three of the NCR ranger camps across the Mojave with sufficient [NCR Fame], the Courier can speak to Chief Hanlon to arrange for Ghost’s replacement with a generic ranger. This option is impossible if “Return to Sender” has already been completed.

Craig Boone. If the Courier has completed “I Forgot to Remember to Forget” in a way that makes Boone repentant over his past, he can be persuaded to take over Ghost’s position as a good way to put his skills to use. Otherwise, he will refuse, either preferring to stay in Novac where he lived with Carla or not wanting to be stuck as a watchman again when he could be out killing Legionnaires. If selected, Boone’s home marker will change from Novac to the Mojave Outpost.

Manny Vargas. Novac’s other sniper can be convinced to take up Ghost’s post, but only if the Courier has completed “One For My Baby,” “Come Fly With Me,” and eradicated the Legion presence from Nelson. Once convinced that Novac seems safe, for now, he’ll be willing to reenlist if paid a generous salary. The Courier can either pay Manny 5,000 caps to reenlist now, pass a [Barter 65] check to explain that it’s a provisional reenlistment and reduce their bribe to 3,000, or if the Courier has already passed the [Confirmed Bachelor] check in dialogue with Knight, they can tell Manny about the cute little major sitting behind the desk all day there by his lonesome. Once convinced, Manny will relocate to the Mojave Outpost and take Ghost’s place.

Bryce Anders. This keen-eyed ranger can be recruited to Ghost’s position if he is rescued from the Vault 3 Fiends by the Courier. Once spoken with in Camp McCarran, the Courier can explain that the Mojave Outpost needs a new ranger stationed there. He will defer to Colonel Hsu’s authority on reassignments, and with a successful [Speech 60], [Medicine 40], or [NCR Fame] check, Hsu will agree to the reassignment on the grounds that it’s a useful position still sedentary enough to not complicate the ranger’s recovery.

Little Buster. The listless bounty hunter at Camp McCarran is looking for another career path and would be willing to take over Ghost’s do-nothing position. However, the only way to recruit him is to fabricate both credentials and enlistment records by either stealing personnel files from either Colonel Hsu’s office at Camp McCarran or from the filing cabinets at Camp Golf, or speaking to Daniel Contreras, who “knows a guy” who’ll take care of it if the Courier has already acquired access to Contreras' expanded inventory by siding with him in the unmarked quest “Dealing with Contreras.”

Private Halford. The sole survivor of Camp Guardian mentions that he wants to head back home through Mojave Outpost after being rescued from the mirelurk caves, at which point the Courier can mention no one is allowed to leave through there, and ask if he’d like to take Ghost’s position there instead. At first he’ll refuse, but with a [Speech 45] or [NCR Fame] check he can be convinced that a quiet, do-nothing watch assignment would be a lot better than anything else after what happened at Camp Guardian, to which he’ll agree. He will also relocate to the Mojave Outpost after being freed anyway, getting stuck like everyone else so that the speech check can be re-attempted. However, Halford isn’t considered well-trained enough for a ranger’s job. The Courier must speak to Jackson (or Knight, if Jackson is dead) and pass a [Speech 80] or [NCR Fame] check to make a strong endorsement, or a [Survival 55] check to explain how impressive it is that he survived an attack from so many mirelurks. Alternatively, the Courier can fabricate impressive enough credentials through the options required to assign Little Buster.

Once Ghost’s replacement has been assigned to the Mojave Outpost, the Courier only needs to speak to Ghost again. She will explain that she’s been “reassigned” to open patrol across the Mojave, ostensibly to track Legion activity, so long as she does so with the Courier. She also gains an additional dialogue option dependent on your choice of replacement:

What do you think of your replacement?

(Generic ranger) For this job? Any ranger’s as wasted as any other. I almost feel bad, I doubt she’ll like that fucking roof any more than I did...almost feel bad. Doesn’t quite cancel out the relief.

(Boone) First recon is one hell of a pull. Took right to it, too, like he was already used to it. Strikes me as the...quiet, contemplative type. Likes to think. Not much else to do up there, anyway. I bet those brahmin pins have never felt safer.

(Manny) First recon is one hell of a pull. Took right to it, too, like he was already used to it. Seems like a nice enough guy, and seems to be getting along with Major Knight. Hell, you love to see it.

(Bryce) A good man. Heard about what the Fiends did to him, and after all that, he certainly deserves a break. Didn’t think of this shit job as much of a vacation before, but seems like it’ll do him good.

(Buster) Not sure where the hell you found this guy, but if (Jackson / Knight) gave the okay, then...okay. I would’ve put a goddamn brahmin in a beret up there if it could have gotten me another assignment.

(Halford) The mirelurk guy? Yeah, he seems alright. I’ve never actually seen a mirelurk, but after hearing his story, I don’t think I want to. I didn’t even know we had a camp that far up there.

Speaking to Ghost after her replacement takes her position completes the quest, and from then on, she can now be recruited as a companion. However, similar to Boone, she will only remain the Courier’s companion if they maintain good reputation with the NCR, and as an active-duty ranger, her intolerance for anti-NCR actions is even more strict.

Ending Slides

If "Giving Up the Ghost” is started, but never completed:

NCR Victory. Ranger Ghost remained at Mojave Outpost, dutifully, thanklessly, and restlessly. When the rangers there received word that the Legion had made their move on the dam, the entire outpost went silent. Waiting. From her rooftop perch, at least she was the first to see the bearer of good news come up the road. In the moment, at least, it was worth everything to be there.

Legion, House, or Independent Victory. Ranger Ghost remained at Mojave Outpost, dutifully, thanklessly, and restlessly. When the rangers there received word that the Legion had made their move on the dam, the entire outpost went silent. Waiting. From her rooftop perch, she was the first to see the NCR’s retreat, as civilians and troopers alike began fleeing through the Long 15. She was right: this whole time, all she could do was watch.

Ghost is dead. Ghost, bitterly, died as she lived...(deep sigh) at the Mojave fucking Outpost.

If “Giving Up the Ghost” is completed:

NCR Victory: When legionnaires by the score descended upon Hoover Dam, Ghost was proud to have been one of the many rangers in the battle that kicked their shit in back across the Colorado. She celebrated with the rest of them, even a smile creeping onto her face every now and then. Still, Ghost returned to business before long, as part of a squad out East tracking down the straggling remnants of Caesar’s retreating Legion.

Legion Victory: Ghost was among the many rangers who fought at Hoover Dam, but when the army of legionnaires led by the Courier, to whom she owed her very presence there, proved unstoppable, she was ultimately among its many casualties. Their advance was too sudden, too overwhelming, for a clean evacuation, and a grisly duel with a centurion trapped her near the front. Still, the Legion never took Ghost alive. She made sure of it.

House or Independent Victory: The arrival of the Securitrons at Hoover Dam was a surprise to every NCR trooper stationed there, including Ghost. Their sudden turn against the NCR, and their allegiance to the Courier, even more so. The triumph of vanquishing the Legion was short-lived, then, as Ghost joined the forced retreat, one pale face in a sea of many. 

Ghost is dead: Despite her name, there was no supernatural flourish when Ghost died. She simply died like a ranger, fighting to the end. That’s all that mattered.

(Bonus) Cass’s Ending Slide if the Courier frames her for the murder of Jackson:

Rose of Sharon Cassidy spent all of her time at the Mojave Outpost in a drunken stupor, which is why when Major Knight oversaw her arrest for the murder of Ranger Jackson, it took so long to get exonerated. By the time the alibi was pieced together and the evidence was admitted as circumstantial, the battle of Hoover Dam shifted NCR’s attention elsewhere, and the crime was never solved. For a few months in the clink, though, at least Cass got what she wanted: home, and finally away from the outpost.

[lucky-draws]

☕️ 👁 💭 - for the writing ask meme :)

☕ favourite passage?

Ooh...it was difficult to decide but I think I'm going to go with this final section from unhappy anniversary:

By the time you reach the exit, the rain has slowed to a drizzle, and the ice in your veins is nowhere near as acute. Feeling slightly more cheerful now that your body is starting to warm up, you flash a charming smile at the now familiar security guard. He jumps at the sight of you, though, looking at you like he's seen a ghost; and you can't help but feel a little offended. You don't look that rough, apart from your tear stained cheeks. Has he never seen a man cry before? 

You give him your pass, and when he hands it back he seems to have recovered, even taking pity on you enough to offer you a cigarette. You glance at the name on the pack and smile: your favourite brand. And to think you were plotting to kill him earlier - what a sad waste of human life that would be. You tell him so, and the flurry of confusion and panic on his face is priceless. 

As the gates close behind you, you hear a disembodied chuckle floating on the breeze - deep, like your father's laugh from earlier. You smile a little, and in spite of it all, make a mental note to come back tomorrow, just so you can tell John all about what's happened tonight. You do owe him some flowers, after all.

I'm not just picking this bit because you also picked out a line from this in your comment on this fic, honest! xD I was pleased with this fic overall, and I often struggle with ending a fic strongly/coming up with decent ending lines that aren't clichéd or cheesy, but I think here it worked out pretty well. And the ghost stuff is always fun too of course... I've always liked the idea of Adam crying "blood" just like The Sorrow, so I enjoyed throwing a vague implication of it in here.

Actually, I will also give an honourable mention to this part in a fic I wrote about John finding out about the less enfants terribles project, 'in my time there'll be no one else' ; there's a lot I now dislike about my earlier fics but I do like the sort of tense atmosphere in this one.

Eventually, the fingertips loosen their grasp. John’s hand falls away in a manner that could be resignation, or could be disgust; and he turns, striding across the room to sit on the edge of the bed without another word.

Adam exhales a long breath, cursing quietly. He flexes his fingers, vaguely wishing he had his revolvers, or anything, really, to fidget with, to distract him.

He crosses over to the open window, and the silence stretches further between them, pulled taught.

Leaning out over the sill, he casually surveys the traffic below with a feigned indifference that’s a force of habit; though the lack of an audience and the tell-tale quivering of the hand reaching into his pocket for a cigarette render the performance futile.

He exhales a cloud of smoke and scowls at a young woman pushing a pram along the sidewalk opposite.

Les Enfants Terribles.

He’d never heard those six syllables before today, but now they just won’t stop bouncing around inside his head.

👁️ series or one shots?

Hm, good question, I think it's satisfying to write short one shots that are concise but have a lot of substance, but at the same time it's also very enjoyable to be able to complete a series of works, especially for a game like metal gear where the characters' development (whether into something better or worse xD) throughout the decades is so central and interesting to explore. I think one shots come with less pressure, and especially because I'm so indecisive and still figuring out writing and I end up changing my mind about what I've written and how much Iike it, it can be challenging to keep a series consistent. It's for that kind of reason that even though I've written separate works that follow each other chronologically, I don't count them as part of the same series exactly because they sort of feel like separate, chronological one shots. If that makes any sense xD

💭 any ideas for a possible wip?

OH BOY do I... I do have an idea for a fic set during the coma years, concerning Ocelot and Kaz getting to know each other; I wrote down some ideas/plans for it a while back but shelved it in order to write my current fic. The ideas I had were possibly slightly out of character and it would definitely be classed as 'canon divergence'...more of a fix it fic that sort of actually makes things worse and rather ignores the rest of the series...I'll say no more but I really hope I can try to actually write it at some point, maybe when I've finished Sing.

I'd like to write otasune at some point and I do have a vague idea of sort of pre-philanthropy or early philanthropy era otasune but I don't know if it'll come to fruition. It takes more braincells than I currently have to be working on two fics at once, so for now I'm gonna just vaguely ruminate on other ideas whilst I'm finishing my current fic. I'd also lowkey like to try writing a very short thing concerning Ocelot's death scene in mgs4...maybe I'll save that for a rainy day. (teehee)

Thank you for the asks!! I hope I was somewhat coherent, and I hope you're having a lovely day! :) o7 💖