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An Important PSA.

Wow so this blog is starting to be more psa posts than actual roleplaying, but I swear this is the last one for a while. This one’s really important because it not only concerns this blog, but it concerns my other two fallout blogs @lonenovember and @atomcursed. So the gist of all this is,

I’m going to be moving Nova and Margo to this blog, my multimuse, and changing this into a general multimuse instead of just a Fallout one.

I think it will help me stay positive and distracted with writing to have other fandoms and characters to interact with when my Fallout peeps are busy, not interested, etc. etc. I already have a list of muses I plan on adding here, and I have no intention of removing any of the current muses. The list of muses I’ll be adding can be found under the cut, for those interested. I don’t expect anyone following me currently to stay following me if they don’t want to because of this change. It’s totally cool, and why I’m letting you guys know ahead of time instead of just changing things and hoping you’ll stay. If you do stay, that’s awesome and you’re all more than welcome to interact with the non-fallout muses that will be here as well! Thank you to everyone who has stayed by me so far, it means the world to me, seriously. For now things are going to be kind of dead while I get things set up, but I’ll try and do replies as well to avoid going inactive and losing followers. ♥

Keep reading

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railiar:

‘ i wear my sunglasses at night. it’s a look i’m going for called dark but delicious. ’   /   @atomcursed.

          “—Doesn’t that make it hard to see?” Delicious?

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@incalescens

Margo stood at the edge of the Thicket Excavations quarry, staring down at the water before letting dreamy eyes move to Tony. He was in the middle of talking to some farmer, who was trying to convince Tony to go under the water and turn valves to let him drain the quarry. The water was dark, years of rainwater having filled it nearly half full. Tony didn't seem all too thrilled at the idea, obviously not all that interested in diving into a random body of water and getting soaked. Margo had been quiet the whole time so far, looking into the water for any signs of mirelurks.

It was empty, from what she could tell.

"Look, I know it's a lot to ask, but I could really use the help and I'm not much of a swimmer myself." The man tried convincing Tony again, hands on his hips and brows furrowed. It was just as Tony was answering him, that his attention flicked over his shoulder, and he blinked. "—Oh, guess your friend's going to do it then?" He asked casually, brows raised in surprise.

There Margo was, sitting on the edge of the quarry's stone walls, in the process of taking off her combat armour and shoes. She was a great swimmer and wasn't affected by radiation, so it only made sense for her to go instead of bothering Tony.

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A PSA about Me.

Hey everyone. So, this is a post that I’ve never made before, because it’s never really been relevant. But I think now I should, because my life has taken a turn in a way that has made this post relevant.

So, a little information about me. I’m twenty-two, bisexual, and married to someone who is disabled. I’m also in the process of immigrating to Canada to be with the man i’m married to. My days consist of him and I taking care of everything in the house, because his grandfather and mother can’t do anything, due to being blind. I have been depressed and suicidal since the age of thirteen, and have suffered from anxiety for just as long, if not longer. I have never been able to retrieve treatment, medication, or therapy. Before moving here it was because my guardians didn’t believe me, and I was too anxious to do anything on my own. Now, it’s because legally I can’t, not without paying out of pocket, which isn’t an option.

I’m surviving. I love my husband, I haven’t attempted or hurt myself in years. I still want to, daily, but I don’t. However, this means that I am emotionally drained most days. I don’t have the energy to deal with things that upset me. Which is what this post is about.

I’m not going to get into specifics, because I’m not writing this to start fights. I’m writing this to inform people that I do not support nor believe in a lot of the retoric that comes out of Tumblr. If you do, that’s your business. All I ask is that you keep posts involving things like social justice, politics, drama of any kind really, off your blogs. If you can’t for whatever reason, then I ask you to please soft block me, or at the very least, tag it with ‘steph don’t look’. I’ve never had to do this before, because a year ago I would just unfollow and block people without a care, because I was more angry and defiant than anything else. Now I’m just tired. So yes, if you post about the things I mentioned above, not just frequently but I mean at all, I ask that you please at least tag it with what I mentioned above, if you still wish to follow/write with me.

My skype/discord has not, and never will be public. I ask that people do not ask for it, because I don’t want to become close with people only to realise that we don’t mesh outside of roleplay due to too many differences in things that I consider important. It’s just not fair to the other person. I’m here to write and enjoy writing, if I happen to find a few people who I can talk to and relate to along the way, that’s great, but because of my viewpoints, I don’t see that happening really.

So, yes. I hope this is easy to understand, and like I said, I’m not trying to start drama or a fight. I’m tired of both, and I just want to write, because it is one of the very few things in my life that is a comfort for my depression and anxiety.

TL;DR: if you post about anything social justice, politics, or drama related, please soft block me, or at least tag it with 'steph don’t look’. If you post a great deal of negativity, whether tagged or not, I will unfollow you.

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like this post for a starter from Margo!

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like this post for a starter from Margo!

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Netflix’s The Punisher Sentence Starters (pt 1)

❛ whatever it is you’re looking for … i’m not it. ❜

❛ books are great, but they don’t hold all the answers. ❜

❛ happy is a kick in the balls waiting to happen. ❜

❛ you got half a life left to live, my friend. ❜

❛ you see, what worries me the most is that you’ve been in a hole so long that it’s become home. ❜

❛ wow. that was sexist, racist, and demeaning all of my abilities all in one sentence. ❜

❛ what time is it? ❜

❛ you brought this on yourself! ❜

❛ don’t you ever say that again. you got that? ❜

❛ you’re not the only ghost in this town. ❜

❛ truth is … i was past caring. ❜

❛ holy shit. ❜

❛ what the hell, why not? ❜

❛ you’re still all heart, huh? ❜

❛ drink? ❜

❛ been flirting with the idea of going full man-bun. ❜

❛ i’ll keep that in mind. ❜

❛ i wanna help, but not if it’s gonna get someone killed. ❜

❛ you think you’re okay and then something just brings it all back. ❜

❛ i don’t know if i would kiss him or slap him. ❜

❛ don’t even think about it. ❜

❛ tonight’s the night you’re gonna die. ❜

❛ never off-duty, huh? ❜

❛ i’m calling the shots now. ❜

❛ you need me! ❜

❛ you always talk this much? ❜

❛ piece of shit. ❜

❛ now all you got is the nightmare. ❜

❛ you want me to tell you it’s okay so that if this all blows up, it won’t be your fault. ❜

❛ you always were good at putting people back together. ❜

❛ i know that it makes it easier for you if you make me the enemy, but i’m not. ❜

❛ you are shitting me. ❜

❛ shit you not. ❜

❛ i dream, i see that guy. ❜

❛ what the hell is it that you do anyways? ❜

❛ hey, you shut your mouth. ❜

❛ you don’t know shit. ❜

❛ looks to me like we’re hiding evidence. ❜

❛ and now you’re closing yourself off, find it hard to trust people. ❜

❛ i’m the best. others will let me down. ❜

❛ i didn’t have a choice. ❜

❛ i could have killed you. ❜

❛ and you don’t find that kinda scary? ❜

❛ why don’t you sit down? ❜

❛ i don’t do partners. ❜

❛ you ever think about, maybe, quality over quantity? ❜

❛ god made me this way for a reason, bro. ❜

❛ i think this is a trap. ❜

❛ i think if we do this, men are gonna die. ❜

❛ you just don’t bleed out, you hear me? ❜

❛ what’d you say? ❜

❛ i cannot let you do that. ❜

❛ god damn it. ❜

❛ the hell is that? ❜

❛ you wanna go up against him/her/them with a pink ruger and no ammo? ❜

❛ grow up. ❜

❛ that’s not happening, alright? not on my watch. ❜

❛ what if we got you a little pair of green tights and a pointy cap with a feather in it? ❜

❛ don’t bother me. ❜

❛ want me to leave? ❜

❛ tough guy, huh? ❜

❛ i’m useless. ❜

❛ did i get anything right? ❜

❛ it was good. i just made it better. ❜

❛ turns out i suck at guitar. ❜

❛ that’s what joe did. don’t be like joe. ❜

❛ what, are you gonna puke? ❜

❛ you sure about this? ❜

❛ it’s nothing. i’m fine. ❜

❛ please don’t do this. ❜

❛ i can’t do this. ❜

❛ pissed off beats scared every time. ❜

❛ what did i do? i got my hands … i got my hands dirty, you piece of shit! ❜

❛ you stay out of my way. ❜

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@psychotheory ♥’d for a starter.

Margo was, first and foremost, a fan of keeping her nose out of other people's business. She was curious and helpful by nature, but if it didn't involve her and didn't need to involve her, then she made sure it wouldn't. Being nosy was how you got killed or wrapped up in a situation not so ideal. Of course, again, she helped out where she could. The scope of her rifle was trained on a poncho-wearing, scruffy looking man in the process of fighting off a group of ferals. He seemed to have it under control, but Margo stayed where she was; on her stomach on a rooftop nearby.

The shots of the stranger's automatic weapon echoed through the decayed streets, and with each flurry of bullets, a feral fell. He's fine, Margo thought, beginning to get up to take her and her gun away. It was just as she was beginning to lift her head though, that she saw a gangrenous feral ghoul quickly staggering towards the man's back. Hastily Margo ducked her head back down, lined up her shot, and BANG!

The thunder of the bullet exiting her gun rang out over the streets, bullet burying itself in the ghoul's skull and it's body dropping dead to the ground. Ejecting the casing, Margo finally stood up, Sun behind her. It might have been a rather impressive image if it were anyone else. Instead of a muscled, collected hero, there stood Margo; a tall, scrawny girl with frizzy hair and combat armour she had taken off a freshly killed Brotherhood of Steel member. She looked down to the man and nodded, calmly beginning to descend the building via a fire escape. He had taken care of the other ferals, so that meant she could be on her way.

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trashkick:

          ❛ yeah, totally normal. they’d probably be more interested in the sunglasses, ❜ beth lets out a half-hearted sigh before stepping on one of the corpses chest as she continues to head in the direction of the house these raiders been protecting. they’re in the shadow of corvega, and that doesn’t sit quite right with the wanderer.  ❛ maybe we shouldn’t stick around, these guys probably have friends. ❜

“I like your sunglasses." Margo comments idly, continuing towards the house, eyes moving to glance over the towering shape of Corvega. Beth has a point. Margo nods in agreement, picking up her pace to reach the house's front door faster. After taking a quick peek through a broken window, she doesn't see any sign of other dangers and tries the door. It's locked, of course. Rolling her eyes, the taller of the two begins to awkwardly climb through one of the windows, thankful any glass is long gone.

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Before I Disappear (2014) dir. Shawn Christensen

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like this post for a starter from Margo!

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this makes me so happy & so sad at the same time

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trashkick:

                  ❛ you know, if you can get passed the busted teeth and homicidal nature some of these guys and gals are actually kind of cute, or… were, ❜ she gently nudges a raider’s skull with the tip of her boot. oh god, one of them twitched! she runs to catch up with margo, body shuddering at the concept.  ❛ i take that back, they’re lowkey terrifying. ❜  //  @atomcursed: sc.

         "I'm sure they'd appreciate that." Margo commented absently, using the sole of her shoe to roll over a definitely dead raider, checking to see what kind of rifle he had. She wrinkled her nose, because it was garbage and she didn't need garbage. Snorting softly, let the corpse fall back down, turning to continue across the remains of an old highway. "I think you'll survive not dating a raider, somehow. You're a little too normal to interest one of them anyway, I think." It was a compliment.

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“At Journey’s End Follow Freedom’s Lantern”

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panglossiann:

Fallout meme idea if no one’s done it yet (even though that’s highly unlikely):

Sending situations/gifts/opinions/ect and the muse responds with Fallout’s Loved that/Liked that/Disliked that opinion system.

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novisvenandi:

“What? Don’t talk?” A cedar swatter in his hand, it rested idly over his shoulder, speckled with something dried, reddish brown. Over his dark shades, golden brown eyes blink, a lit cigarette hanging loosely from perfect pink lips. 

“Well, I guess you don’t look dangerous. Just don’t cause shit.” Stepping down, the man moved aside so she could pass, the catacombs of the Old North Church all her’s if she chose to enter. It wasn’t much, but to synths like him, it was as close as he got to HOME.

“Not much.” Margo answered plainly, looking up at the man for the time being with tired eyes. He had his swatter, and she had her rifle, machete strapped to her hip. She had done a decent job at getting the rust gone and sharpening it, but she had been considering getting a swatter of her own. Maybe. They could break much easier than her machete, but her machete required constant upkeep.

It was as he stepped down that Margo found her eyes moving downwards, standing a few inches taller than him. It wasn't that strange, she was taller than most people, but it made his comment about her not being dangerous seem that much more ludicrous. She wasn't a danger to him or the Railroad, but a danger in general? That was up for debate. "Sure." She nodded, moving her attention back to the church, hesitating. Would they really be able to help her? "...Do they really know how to tell if someone's a synth?" Margo asked suddenly, turning to face the stranger.