#james fallout

[bitter-drink]

i'm replaying fallout 3 rn i love the prologue so much also do babies in vaults wear tiny vault suits? idk i'm saying yes thats funny to me

[birds-of-a-fallout]

the purity gang!! :D i hope nothing bad happens to them!

[thearmageddonrag]

happy, happy times

[agentcoltslaw]

It's already like 12am but birthday photo remake art (just a WIP, I was excited to share it)

Old version from like... 2 years ago? Im not sure. It's supposed to be for an animation I'm making :))

[bellonathedragonborn]

Rok found his dad!

Rok lost his dad!

Random but I love following James from Vault 112 because of the special dialogue he says.

“Don’t you think you could harm my child!”

“Just like shooting that BB gun.”

I wish he lasted longer and I wish we could tell Amata what happened.

[bogdoom]

[tinytorchlight]

james and jonas used to do all kinds of. experimentse . with each other

[alicewav]

21:6

[vault-kid]

Did you get enough love, my little dove? Why do you cry? And I'm sorry I left, but it was for the best Though it never felt right, my little Versailles

Happy Father's Day

[nukacourier]

ulysses would honestly be the perfect candidate for anything enemies to lovers regarding the Courier if people weren't so focused on pretending the random one off Legion members are better written than they actually are

[stoat-party]

Things Fallout 3 did better than 4, in my opinion:

Giving every character a canon age

On that note, a game guide revealing all the flirting going on when the player character isn’t looking. (Did you know Greta has a thing with both Carol and Winthrop?)

Dialogue tree instead of wheel. (1. It lets you explore every dialogue option, 2. You can avoid triggering unwanted quest paths without ignoring a character entirely, and 3. Maybe I want Liam Neeson to tell me he’s proud of me more than once, okay?)

Weapons and armor degrading. It keeps caps tight for longer, so there are actual stakes when you forego profit to do the right thing. Also makes looting enemies more fun.

Skills.

Notes and holotapes have their own tab, aren’t in the inventory, and are sorted chronologically.

You can get Rad-X from the health status tab instead of scrolling infinitely in the aid items menu.

The Wasteland’s so empty. In 4, you can’t go very far without running into enemies. In 3, you can watch the scenery and listen to the radio for a good long while before you run into anything. (Though the city does take up less of the map.)

I get that they had to sacrifice this so the settlement building and radiant quests could operate, but I liked it better when you fought through a location, and the location stayed the way you left it, with enemies dead, locks/terminals open, and containers looted. 4 feels more like a fighting game while 3 feels like it’s about exploration.

Followers being able to die. There are benefits to being able to leave them to their own devices, but the extra stakes are more challenging and realistic. (But if followers could die in 4, you’d be able to fail every questline in the game right off the bat, so it’s understandable.)

Targeting followers in V.A.T.S. and having friendlies show up on your radar. I want to know where everyone is.

Tell me yours if you have any!

[acciofictionalmen]

fallout in the snowfall ❆ part 1

james potter x female!reader

summary: when james kisses you on an adrenaline high, your friendship is in shambles as the true meaning of "just friends" becomes irreparably warped. you both desperately try to restore the platonic bond that you once shared, but at what cost...

warnings: strong language, sexual references

word count: 2.9k

series masterlist

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

Music drowned out your senses, the beat thrumming through your body as intensely as the pounding of your heart. Hoarse from screaming, your throat tickled as you laughed with your friends, revelling in Gryffindor's success from the day's Quidditch match against Slytherin.

Lights flashed across the Gryffindor Common Room as the Fat Lady's portrait swung open, people whooping as James was carried inside, basking in the attention like a cat- like a lion in the sunlight. Everyone began chanting his name, you joining in with a laugh as he was hauled even higher on Sirius' shoulders, people reaching over to smack him on the back as he swayed precariously. His tousled hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat, cheeks flaming red from the thrill, glasses cracked in one lens and his eyes... they burnt with the aftermath of success, glowing with that glimmer only a decisive victory could bring. His eyes scanned the room as he craned his neck, looking, searching; until his gaze landed on yours.

Something seemed to crackle in the air between you, the intensity of his fiery eyes pulling your body forwards, as though you needed to be near him. The chatter of your friends slowly faded into the background as you paused, biting your lip uncertainly.

James, on the other hand, wasn't one to hesitate. Not when he had been younger - when if he had wanted something he took it without a second thought - and certainly not now. James had enjoyed the perks of a privileged upbringing, and there were certain aspects he wasn't ready to relinquish yet.

Tapping Sirius firmly on the shoulder, his best friend loosened his hold and James jumped down. His eyes never left yours. He strode forwards, pushing past people as they cheered and tried to clap him on the back, his expression glazed with determination. No-one was going to get in the way of what he wanted.

Everything seemed to slow as James reached you. The music died in your ears, the loud cheering gradually fading. Your mind was a whirlpool of emotions, unsure where this was going, but also ready. James' chest heaved with adrenaline as he neared, closing the already small distance between you. His eyes flashed dangerously as his tongue darted out to wet his pink lips. You looked up at him, doe eyes wide, yet simmering with longing that had been repressed for far too long.

James considered your uncertain expression as his hand dragged up and down your shoulder in what was supposed to be a reassuring manner. As your best friend, James had always been touchy, but this was different.

It drove you crazy.

"A few kisses won't ruin our friendship, love."

Looking up at him through your lashes, you smiled slyly; his need for you in that moment so palpable that your skin flushed beneath his gaze.

The look he was giving you. Of exasperation, of longing, of want. You knew your face mirrored his.

James grunted with the force of his lips colliding with yours. His hands flew to your waist as you met in a flurry of passion and lust and want as one of his hands snaked up your side and tugged at your hair, eliciting a gasp- he stole it away with another kiss, then another, and another. The music flooding your ears once more combined with the vibrant lights hot on your skin and James' lips on yours surged the intensity of the moment to new heights. Heights that you teetered precariously on, feeling free and unreachable but capable of crashing at any moment.

He broke away for a split second as you both gasped for air, eyes frantically searching the others, as though you needed confirmation that this was happening, before pulling you back into him as though your lips on his could offer more relief than oxygen ever could. You were his lifeline and right now, James felt more alive than he could ever recall.

The night blended together in a haze of drinks, lights, laughter and more stolen kisses, the memory simultaneously so clear yet vague that you could only be left to ponder (and regret) everything that had occurred the following morning, as you trailed down to the common room from the girl's dormitories, massaging your forehead in a futile attempt to relieve your hangover. You hadn't expected to find James, who apparently hadn't even managed to make it to bed, asleep on the crimson sofa.

The creaking of the stairs as you crept forwards caused him to stir in his sleep, sitting up groggily once he noticed you.

He blinked a few times, forcing the sleep away, and stood up suddenly.

Groaning, he sat back down.

"Hungover hit yet?" You smirked, sitting down next to him.

James' black hair was the messiest you'd seen in a while and his glasses still flaunted a thin crack.

Leaning over him you raised your wand, muttering 'Oculus Reparo' as the crack sealed itself.

His eyes stayed shamelessly on your lips the entire time. You hesitated, not instantly moving away.

It was the signal James had been waiting for. Before you could speak his hands snaked around your waist.

His fingers lifted your chin, his eyes half-lidded as he murmured, "One more won’t hurt." His lips brushed against your lips as he murmured against you, “Right?”

You nodded, breathless as he swept hair away from your face.             

So, he had remembered last night.

He leaned in, grazing his lips against yours again as though he was testing his own self-restraint, playing a dangerous game as he tested both of your boundaries. They didn't hold.

Within moments, James had lifted you onto his lap, kissing you with as much urgency as he had only a few hours ago. You returned the action, your hands tangling into his hair, determined to make the most of this kiss if it would be your last. James' hands brushed up and down your sides, sending sparks surging through your body.

You pulled away, eyes still closed as his forehead pressed against yours, "What is this, James, what was last night?" You breathed, scared to shatter the moment you hadn’t realised you’d wanted so desperately.

He groaned at the absence of your lips as his hands circled your lower back, "Friends kiss, love."

His eyes glinted with that familiar confidence beneath his glasses and you were unable to look away, that brief glimmer only enticing you more. His voice was rough as he spoke slowly, "Would you like me to stop, my best friend? My bestest girl?"

Your hands tightened in his hair at the pet name. His words should have thrown you off. They should have. But you had unknowingly craved this for so long, and this... maybe it worked. You could satisfy the part of you that craved him without the threat of losing your friendship.

"Don't stop."

The words triggered something in him, and James leant in.

──── ୨୧ ────

The kisses didn't stop.

Whenever you sat down with him at breakfast James greeted you with a kiss on the cheek, his hand lingering on your thigh throughout the meal.

He'd steal kisses from you after class, people conveniently crowded outside as he’d pull away, a smirk gracing those intoxicating lips.

Every time he kissed you sent shivers through your body- the feeling addictive. But soon, you began waiting for something. Waiting for the moment he'd pull away, his eyes searching yours, and ask for something more.

It hadn't taken long for the others to notice, but any ideas of the two of you together were quickly quenched by James' assertions that the two of you were the closest of friends- and nothing more.

He'd kiss you after quidditch practice when Gideon Prewett was getting on his nerves. Because he needed it, he always claimed. Because a kiss from his best friend was what he needed after he'd worked so hard and had to deal with irritating team mates. You were more than happy to oblige.

He'd kiss you when you'd hang out with the group, pulling you onto his lap when you all sat together by the black lake, laughing at the group’s jokes. This carried on for so long that it became integrated into your normal routine, the others long beyond questioning anymore.

But after the initial two weeks, it didn't feel right. It felt stagnant, and you began wondering if you’d be forever trapped between friendship and something more. By the third week, you felt empty.

You recounted this to Mary MacDonald, one of your closest friends. She listened patiently as you spilled every detail on the floor of the girl's dormitory, your legs crossed as the words tumbled out of your mouth.

She placed a hand on your wrist, causing your rambling to skid to a halt.

"How do you actually feel about all this, (Y/n)?" She questioned, waving her freshly painted pink nails through the air, trying to dry them before she did yours.

"I-" you frowned, absentmindedly brushing your fingertips over your lips. The ghost of James' lips temporarily invaded your thoughts, "I love it when he kisses me."

Mary's eyes glimmered with something you couldn't recognise, but she kept quiet, prompting you to continue.

"But it's not enough. It's not enough," the words began to pour out, and you couldn't stop them, "I almost feel greedy- I want more. When he kissed me for the first time something changed and I- I don’t know. I guess I thought things would be different. That they would’ve developed by now.”

Mary sat patiently, admiring her freshly painted nails as she gave you space to sort through your thoughts.

“I love his kisses, but all they do is remind me that they're not enough." You paused, Mary's brows furrowed as she watched you, "I want more." You whispered, your voice quiet, barely audible. The words merged with the comfortable silence between the two of you as she mulled over your confession.

Mary wasn't one to offer a meaningless response, and that was something you adored her for- she genuinely cared. Still pondering, she gently placed your left hand on her knee as she began to paint your nails in the pretty wine-red colour you'd selected earlier.

It was once she reached your ring finger that she finally spoke, "You deserve more, (Y/n), and I'll be damned if that makes you greedy."

She paused again, eyes crinkling as she focused on wiping some stray polish from your finger.

"It’s human to crave a proper relationship- not whatever James is doing. I don't think he's quite realised it, but he's taking advantage of you, (Y/n). He's giving you the bare minimum."

Her blunt words snapped your eyes up from your nails, your left hand done as you replaced it with your right.

"I don't want to stop being friends with him." You said, hesitantly.

"And you won't," Mary's eyes lit up, "All I'm saying is if that jerk wants to kiss you, he has to work for it." She insulted James with that level of affection shared by old friends, but there was an edge to her voice.

You laughed, but her words resonated within you, particularly with your level of self-respect. Entirely consumed by this change in dynamic with James, you’d unintentionally disregarded your dignity in the process. Allowed him to assume you'd always be there, lips puckered and eyes closed.

You shivered at the thought. The revelation sent a wave of bitterness through your body. You weren't angry at James, no, more so at yourself for putting up with this for so long.

Mary smirked, recognising the resolution in your eyes as she finally set down the nail varnish, screwing the lid on, "It’s about time James Potter had to actually work for something."

You held back a snort, eyes crinkled with amusement.

"Thank you, Mare." You gestured to your nails, but she caught the double meaning.

"Anything for my best friend." She stood quickly, cursing as she almost smudged one of her nails, "Dinner?"

Within minutes you’d entered the hall, arms linked with Mary’s as you marvelled at the newly put up Christmas decorations. Just over a month away from Christmas, they glowed brightly; snowflakes swirled down from the enchanted ceiling, fading into nothing before they could touch the people sat beneath. Wreaths hung above every fireplace, which crackled comfortingly... and the tree. At the opposite end of the hall stood the massive fir tree, one you could've sworn got bigger each year. Baubles shimmered against the glow of the candles, the tinsel and angel hair that had been carefully draped over the branches made it look as though the tree had been dunked in pure starlight. Magic never ceased to amaze you; there really was a charm for everything.

As you scoured the Gryffindor table in search of your friends, Lily happened to look up at the same time and waved you over. Your breath hitched, noticing there was a seat either next to her or next to James. Mary gave you a pointed look as she slid down into the seat next to the latter, leaving you to join Lily- opposite him instead. James immediately looked up as Mary sat down, his brow crinkling slightly as he turned to you. It was no secret he’d saved that seat for you, and an uncomfortable moment passed before the others resumed their conversation.

Having just returned from practice, James was dressed in mud-splattered quidditch gear, the word gryffindor stretched across his broad chest. His hair was that familiar mess, and you mused whether you could run your fingers through it without them getting stuck. He downed his full glass of pumpkin juice in one, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your fingers drummed steadily on your thigh as you slipped in and out of Sirius’ story, laughing occasionally, but unable to dedicate your focus when James was sat directly opposite.

Only your eyes were on Sirius as he wildly gestured with his hands, recounting the tale; your mind wasn’t on his words. James’ leg brushed yours under the table, a bid for your attention. You didn’t react, dragging your attention back to Sirius instead and joining in to laugh at something else he’d said. What exact you were laughing about, you weren’t sure.

It felt wrong, almost unnatural, not to be touching James in some way. In just three weeks your body had gotten so accustomed to his lingering touches, his sly brushes against your thighs, that you felt unsettled by the lack of them. You noticed James flexing his large hands, as though he too didn’t know what to do with them if they weren’t on you.

You exhaled with relief when the food came, snapping you out of your thoughts yet again- a welcome distraction. As you began to fill your plate with steaming piles of food, your eyes fell on Mary’s. She had been engaging with the rest of the group’s antics, but the knowing look in her eyes told you she’d been observing the both of you the whole time.

She gave you a smirk, flexing her right hand dramatically, just as James had done. You snorted, your hand instantly flying up to your mouth to stifle your laughter. The tension momentarily evaporated as you realised that nothing escaped your best friend’s notice. The others paused, looking confused, but Mary quickly waved them off after muttering something about an inside joke. You only giggled in response.

After a collection of mouth-watering meals you stood, exhausted and ready to sleep. Mary and Lily also got up, both ready to leave. You didn't kiss James on the cheek as you usually did, instead linking arms with your friends as you left the sparkling hall.

You weren't ignoring James. No- from now on you’d simply treat him as a friend, because in the past few weeks the meaning of the word had gotten so twisted between the two of you. You were determined to restore it, unwilling to settle for kisses that amounted to nothing.

You had had an hour to mull over Mary's words. James' behaviour was intentional- it wasn't as though he hadn't had every opportunity to turn your situation into something more. It was James who had constantly enforced the 'friend' idea the hmost, leading you to assume he wasn't interested in you the way you were him. And that was fine- but you'd show him what a true friend was. Challenge his claim that friendship involved his lips on yours.

James silently stared after you, Sirius snorting, "How've you fucked that one up, man?"

"There's nothing to fuck up." James rolled his shoulders nonchalantly, ignoring how they suddenly felt heavy.

"Sure." Sirius' eyes flashed knowingly, "And Pete didn't fuck up his charms test."

Peter had gotten a T (Troll) on his most recent charms test.

Remus rolled his eyes, shooting Peter an apologetic look as he stood from the table, "Well, I'll leave you all to it."

And so he did, leaving James entangled in thoughts almost as messy as his hair and filled with a desperation to know why you’d seemed so distant. He chalked it down to your having a bad day, certain that tomorrow you wouldn't be able to stay away from him again.

Oh, how wrong he was.

A/N

EEK!!!! i can't believe im about to press post.. i've been working on this series idea for a long while... truthfully most of my ideas get scrapped after a few weeks but this one really really stuck with me so i'm glad I didn't press delete on the word doc... i'm thinking this'll be about six-ish parts, so bear with me :,) this series will be christmas themed, so expect loads of snow and presents to come!

& if you'd like to be added to the taglist do lmk! i'd be honoured to add you ♡

and please feel free to share your thoughts, opinions, reactions, what you think will happen next... i love reading them allll

series masterlist here ❆

[until-the-brahmin-come-home]

this is still so fucking funny to me. you ever get so high you hallucinate your dad being white.

[valoos]

[bellonathedragonborn]

The nostalgia I feel playing Fallout 3 again…

I haven’t played this game since 2013.

[justabunchofdragons]

god i will never be over the delivery + the line "nobody at this hospital even LIKED amber" like i've blocked out as much of that episode and the aftermath as i can because it makes me feel unwell but that line just stuck with me. how amber was fired out of the blue and sobbed on the spot and no one ran to her (except wilson). how i had a visceral reaction (/negative) to seeing her wear wilson's jumper. how amber seemed to be toying with wilson but played along with the "house wants to share custody of me" and genuinely genuinely loved him. the parallels to house? in front of people he does everything for himself and on his own he does everything for other people. how she left the house in the middle of the night to get her boyfriend's best friend who was roaring drunk and might not remember who took him home. wilson breaking down in his office and giving up the hope of a last goodbye so she isn't in pain. everyone coming to see her and seeing it through her perspective. everyone in that big white room coming on the side where she can't see the machine keeping her alive. "i don't want the last emotion i feel to be anger." how i've convinced myself that that line made wilson not blame house. "nobody at this hospital even liked amber." but the way she died was horrible and avoidable and stupidly tragic and idk there's something to special so me about how house denies guilt but hallucinates her specifically. something something the show took you by the hands and looked you in the eye and said "no one deserves to die. look at me. it doesn't matter, none of it matters. she was human, therefore loved, and none of the rest of it mattered."