Currently watching RT stream while sketching, im not gonna lie. I want to thank rt specifically for making me constantly learning and sketching during his stream. His stream is very helping for my very 'constantly in the head, spinning boats.' brain. Fallout has been enjoyable to watch, and i have been finding other ( spiff ) to watch more fallout ( spiff fallout 4 and new vegas exploits ) and its been really fun ( any rt and spiff enjoyer out there? )
Little writing with my little sketch as always :
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Theres been a whisper of a wanderer, stiches around his head and face, a grey strand can be seen around his dark hair, a sign of an old timer. Thought looked younger than most farmers in Mojave. Some says, he has been frozen in time. Escaped from Big Mountain, stich his own brains back by some kind of machinery. Thought as the myth speaks for his scars, not alot pays him mind, he can be found gambling in casinos of Mojave. To meet him playing blackjack is a chance of luck.
Theres been a whisper of a ghoul, thought many might not believe you that he is one when you ask around, as he is simple worried man for alot of people. When you met him in a empty road. He will smile and ask the same thing that he ask everyone else, "Know any Daniel?" He seems to not get more specific about the name, talking with him more shows he doesnt mind the wrong people he find, it is also evidence on how he become a ghoul, he walks a long road without any radiation suit. Thought, if you manage to find the Daniel he asked, he will be waiting with plenty of caps. You can only hope the best for him, to find this 'Daniel' before he goes feral.
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was this JLB foreshadowing that Jameson would be part British??
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The foxes thought Neil had a weird accent for years because his mom is British but it’s actually because he’s from Baltimore unfortunately
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the most recent game changer episode was a good reminder for me that my obsession with comedy is actually niche and most people out there don't share my reference pool
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You know what yeah I could get behind that DTBJDFHKDGH @irished-lads bangarry taking a stand for the underdog ships <3
Vote Bangarry in the name of the Niche Ships that have fallen behind us!!
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[My humble contribution to the meme mania surrounding @neil-gaiman having pyromaniac tendencies]
Featuring: the reference you SHOULD understand, it was not that long ago, folks 😂😂😂
Also featuring: me, late to the party but here I am with my zero to none Photoshop abilities
(Hi, by the way 👋)
Just came by to drop this and disappear as quickly as I popped.
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any update on friends w benefits fic 👀👀
I've been away on a long weekend road trip, so I wasn't able to write much last week, but I did mentally write several more scenes in my head before bed each night 😂
Currently I am at ~18k words on paper. I am fearing this is going to have to be split up into an actual multi-chapter fic because I still have a lot more plot to go, in which case I still want to write all of it before starting to post (because I am bad at finishing wips if I don't).
here's a little snippet I wrote this morning:
A few games before that, away in Liverpool, Jamie had lined up what he thought was a perfect goal only to hit the crossbar. That were stupid of him, too, though that time Roy started clapping encouragingly on the sidelines alongside his and Beard’s initial grunts of disappointment, and Sam and some of the other lads had smacked him on the back in like, team solidarity. Besides, Jamie had already scored once that match, and they still won in the end, so it weren’t so bad. Still. It would have been enough to earn him a slap to the skull or a flick to the back of his neck, at least. Before.
The rules were all different now, but Jamie hadn’t been given an updated playbook. With this new and improved version of his father, he didn’t know why the sight of a new voice message after the game still filled him with dread. He’d waited to click on it until he was well out of earshot of the dressing room, and then felt silly for it when his old man’s low voice drawled out lazily over the speakers, “you’ll get ‘em the next time, son,” and then, even more ludicrously, invited him out for dinner.
This was the sort of thing Jamie had always wanted—a dad who would pat him on the back after matches instead of flay him open—so why did it still feel so fucking eerie? Like all the lines had been redrawn and he didn’t know where the new ones began, let alone ended. He kept waiting for the floor to drop out beneath him, for the uncertainty to swallow him whole.
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The way origins says "men and women are treated equally in ferelden" and not even 5 minutes in you could tell they weren't was a staple in bioware's fake company progressivism and i wouldn't have it any other way
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