#mods are asleep keep posting dead authors

[bananaeatstape]

eeuUUGHGhgjfhgH *throws pen sketch of gaston leroux and runs away*

[skyrimmodfanatic]

 As you can see by my username, I am intending to make this blog essentially a database of mod requests for mod authors (such as myself) to refer to when they need inspiration. I’m thinking of doing a masterlist in this post, but I will also create a separate post for each of the categories, once I have an idea for the a mod that I think fits within that category. To find these categories, seach the name of the category followed by “skyrimmodfanatic”. Also, if you see a mod request that you know how to do with the creation kit, please do feel free to send me a message with instructions. Also, if you are an experienced mod creator that thinks one of these suggestions would be impossible to accomplish, please feel free to leave me a message as well. So without further ado, here’s the master list I have so far:

Alchemy

A poison that makes the victim fall asleep for a predetermined amount of time 

Animation            

Armour

Armour - Shields          

Audio - Music            

Audio - SFX            

Audio - Voice

Body Face and Hair

Books and Scrolls

Add more kids books to the game

Bug Fixes • Something to make the weird facial textures that NPCs sometimes get go away • A mod to make the bodies of dead dragons disappear like they’re supposed to (around Riverwood, I keep getting attacks from Ancient Dragons, but once I kill them, they just land and fall down dead. Their skin doesn’t decompose, even when I leave the city and come back, though I do absorb the dragon’s soul and can loot the dragon, and weirdly enough I can walk through them too, without any kind of special spell or mod. It could have to do with the fact that I’ve been using cheat spells from the mod Cheat Room to kill these dragons). I also think this is weird because at this point in the game I have already killed off Alduin, and doesn’t it say in the song “Age of the Dragon” that the dragons are gone....?

Buildings • Create a store with a merchant that sells basically everything in the game, except for quest items (the kind that don’t remove from your inventory except to fulfill quest objectives) • A daycare to drop children off at for pre-determined amounts of time

Castles, Palaces, Mansions, and Estates

Character Presets

Cheats and God items 

Cities, Towns, Villages, and Hamlets

Clothing 

Edit the textures of the vanilla clothing to make them not look so dirty

Collectables, Treasure Hunts, and Puzzles          

Combat

Crafting

Creatures           

Dungeons - New            

Dungeons - Vanilla          

Environmental

Followers & Companions

The ability to ask followers to put specific items (such as bowls, pots, etc) onto a designated place such as a shelf or a bookcase 

Followers & Companions - Creatures            

Forts, Ruins, and Abandoned Structures          

Gameplay Effects and Changes              

Guilds/Factions            

Immersion 

Items and Objects - Player            

Items and Objects - World            

Landscape Changes          

Locations - New          

Locations - Vanilla            

Magic - Gameplay

 Create a way for the player to manipulate and move objects in a way that won’t make items flip in mid air like it does when you move items too fast using the vanilla method. Basically, I want to be able to move and arrange lightweight objects as easily as I do IRL. 

Magic - Spells & Enchantments     

 A spell that can be applied to the land surrounding a house to prevent enemies from being able to attack anyone within the spells circle

Mercantiles (shops stores inns taverns etc)

A store that sells all the items in the game, except for the quest items that can’t be removed from inventory except to fulfill a quest objective

Miscellaneous

Modders Resources and Tutorials    

A mod resource that changes the look of walls to get rid of the dirty, worn look of them. 

Expand the generic kit. I love the look of the stones, but there aren’t that many pieces to work with. 

Models and Textures              

Mounts

New Lands

NPC

The ability to hire an NPC to babysit the player’s children

the ability to hire an NPC as a maid that will pick up objects that fall from their designated places, such as dishes, books, etc. 

NPC - Children

Change the chore feature to include picking up stuff on the floor that got knocked over, such as dishes, books, etc). 

Overhauls

Overhaul the game to make the covers of books that have stories appropriate for children to have a specific cover that can be distinguished from the vanilla book covers 

Patches 

Player homes

Quests and Adventures

Races, Classes and Birthsigns

Save Games             

Shouts          

Skills and Leveling            

Stealth    

User Interface

A mod to enable the player to search for specific locations once they open up the map in game

A mod that changes the colors of the icons on the maps that are mods

A mod that changes the highlight color of the text in the quest log to make it easier to see which quest the user has selected

Utilities

A fail quest function 

Videos and Trailers          

Visuals and Graphics

A mod that enables the user to change the colors of the walls in their homes

VR 

Weapons 

Weapons and Armour

[sorrelchestnut]

EVERYBODY’S PICKIN’ UP ON THAT FELINE BEAT, PART 33

Still not dead!  I’m just saying, this would have been a lot easier if I didn’t decide that this story suddenly needed to grow a plot.

Part 1.  Part 2.  Part 3.  Part 4.  Part 5.  Part 6.  Part 7.  Part 8.  Part 9.  Part 10.  Part 11. Part 12.  Part 13.  Part 14.  Part 15.  Part 16.  Part 17.  Part 18.  Part 19. Part 20.  Part 21.  Part 22. Part 23. Part 24. Part 25. Part 26.  Part 27. Part 28. Part 29. Part 30. Part 31. Part 32.

Title: everybody’s picking up on that feline beat Author: Sorrel Fandom: Fallout 4 Rating: Mature Warnings: None Relationships: Deacon/Female Sole Survivor Series: Part 3 of everybody wants to be a cat

  They creep into an abandoned building a few doors down from the Plaza and set up on the second floor, moving low and slow to avoid being spotted by either of the half-asleep guards patrolling slowly around the block.  Hancock’s better at keeping quiet than Deacon would have expected, considering the man’s run-and-gun style, but maybe he learned a thing or two when he was kicking around the Commonwealth with Whisper.  Even old dogs, etc.

  Once Whisper’s satisfied they’ve found the right spot, Hancock wanders off to explore, waving away Whisper’s hissed reminders to stay quiet.  Deacon raises his eyebrows at her, but she just tips him a shrug and kneels down to start unpacking her armor, so he decides to defer to her greater experience and does the same.

  They gear up with easy familiarity, Deacon tightening the straps on her chestpiece while she does up the buckles on her wristguards, and then Whisper turning around to return the favor, going to her knees and doing up the laces on his boots since he can’t bend over that far with the combat vest on.  Normally they don’t wear this much gear—Whisper prefers freedom of movement over being bulletproof, and since he has to keep up with her Deacon’s more or less come to see it her way—but normally they’re not going in this hot, either.  Whisper’s decked out heavier than he is, since she’ll be at the front drawing fire, but there’s going to be enough bullets flying around that neither of them are willing to take any chances.

  Once she’s kneeling in front of him, however, she doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to get back up.  By the time she’s finished ‘adjusting his ammo belt’ for the third time he’s half-hard and trying not to squirm, darting glances at the door to the hall where he can still faintly hear Hancock moving around.  Not that they haven’t fooled around with witnesses handy a truly inadvisable number of times, but this feels- different.  He still doesn’t know the lay of the land between her and Hancock, and this’d be a bad way for the ex to find out about the new guy, if that’s the way of it.

  “Quit it,” he finally hisses, and she laughs soundlessly at him and gives his thigh a final friendly pat before straightening creakily to her feet, moving awkwardly under the weight of unfamiliar gear.

  He picks up her weapon and shoves it into her hands before she can get any more clever ideas.  “You be careful with that,” he says, nodding to the fully-modded shotgun Hancock loaned her, since even Whisper had to admit that her rifle probably wasn’t going to cut it for this one.  “Bet that thing kicks like a mule.  You’ll be bruised to hell tomorrow if you don’t handle it right.”

  “Teach your gran to suck eggs,” she says, with a look that says she catches his metaphor loud and clear.  “I know how to handle a shotgun.”

  He slides his own rifle back into its holster and raises his hand defensively.  “Don’t get grumpy with me.  I just want to see you in one piece on the other side.”

  Her annoyed expression softens, and she darts a quick glance at the hallway to make sure the coast is still clear before she darts forward to press a kiss to his cheek.  “Right back atcha, partner,” she murmurs, then dances back before he can decide he doesn’t care about Hancock after all and reach for her.  “You ready to do this thing?”

  He grins down at her, the fading curl of lust mixing with the heat of adrenaline to leave him pleasantly flushed and on edge.  Is it wrong to love your work?  Definitely not, when it’s this much fun.  “Always,” he assures her.  “Don’t forget to make some noise.”

  She grins back up at him, mischief dancing in her hazel eyes.  “Oh, I think I can manage that.”

~*~

  When you get down to it, this op isn't all that different from ones they've run with Glory.  Which isn’t a surprise; on the rare occasions they’ve had the luxury of extra backup, Whisper tends to lean towards her little pincer maneuver, in one variation or another.  Mind you, she’s usually on the other side of the equation, but hey, Deacon’s flexible.  And in all fairness to their Angel of Destruction, it takes a lot of bullets to keep up with the kind of distraction Glory can dish out.  Hancock could probably use the help.

  “We’re in position,” Whispers murmurs in his earpiece, and Deacon’s sharp ears pick up the faintest scuff of a booted foot against the cobblestone.  It’s easy to picture Hancock, crouched just behind her, his own shotgun at the ready.  “How’s it looking on your end, Johnny?”

  He glances down at the pair of cooling bodies slumped at his feet, all that remains of the guards posted up at the back entrance.  “Rocking and rolling, Livvy-love,” he chirps, just to hear her snort of amusement.  “I’m ready when you are.”

  “Awesome.  Be ready to go on my signal.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “Oh,” and he can hear the grin in her voice, “you’ll know.”

  For a moment, all goes quiet, and Deacon, who has a fine-tuned sense of self-preservation and a lot of experience with Whisper’s sense of humor, braces himself.  Then, through his earpiece, he hears the splintering crack of a door being kicked open, following in very short order by a shout of alarm, the blast of shotgun, and the much louder blast of a hand grenade going off in close quarters.

  Deacon grins to himself as he pulls out his rifle.  Time to earn his keep.

  It’s a hard fight, but not the worst he’s been in, by a long shot.  Things do get a little dicey when all the commotion turns out to be loud enough to draw the attention of the cohort on the upper levels before they’ve quite finished clearing the ground floor, but nobody gets shot, which is all that matters.

  Well.  Nobody on their side gets shot.

  Well, nowhere important, at least.

  “Four hundred years, this thing’s lasted,” Hancock’s saying in a mournful voice, as Deacon makes his way back down from a sweep of the upper levels.  “Seen me through more than my fair share of firefights, and that’s a fact.”

  Whisper makes an annoyed noise under her breath.  “What’s your point?”

  “Ten goddamn minutes with you and I’m catching a bullet where a patch ain’t gonna cut it, that’s my point.”

  “Right, what was I thinking.”  Deacon can picture her eye-roll as clear as if he was standing right next to her.  “You know that was just a replica, right?  It wasn’t actually worn by John Hancock, American revolutionary.”

  Hancock’s scowl is audible.  “How the hell would you know, anyway?”

  Deacon peers over the balcony railing, to see Whisper kneeling next to Hancock, wiping the last of the blood off her hands with a spare rag.  “You kids having fun down there?”

  “Hancock’s just bitching because he doesn’t know how to duck.”  Whisper closes the medkit up with an exasperated look at Hancock, who totally misses the entire byplay in favor of craning his head to peer at the bullet hole in his arm she just finished stitching.

  Deacon smothers a snort.  “Well, it’s all clear up here.  Looks like everyone who’s anyone came down earlier when the party got started.  Place is a ghost town.”

  Whisper’s grin is so satisfied it’s almost postcoital.  “Now that’s what I like to hear.  You mind getting our shit from the hidey-hole?  I want to check out the lay of the land, and this one needs to let the stimpak kick in.”  Hancock starts to sit up, an outraged expression on his face, only to get shoved back down by Whisper.  “Yes, you,” she tells him.  “Don’t be a hero.”

  Deacon bites back a smile and tips an imaginary hat with the backs of his knuckles.  He’s not used to seeing Whisper fussing.  It’s oddly sweet.

  “I’m on it, boss.”

~*~

  Hancock’s nowhere to be found when he gets back ten minutes later, but he finds Whisper setting up in one of the back rooms, the one with no exterior windows and the really niche torture dungeon aesthetic.  The bodies are gone, but the smell of death lingers like a really oppressive shroud.

  “Nice place you’ve got here.”

  Whisper twists around just enough to smirk at him.  “I thought the meat hooks in the corner made for a particularly gruesome touch.”

  “Yeah, really sets the scene.”  He drops their packs just outside of the doorway and steps inside, carefully avoiding the still-wet smear of blood from where she dragged the bodies out into the hall.  “Where’s Hancock?”

  “Going through the den upstairs for any interesting scav.  Figured one of us should make some caps off this shitshow, and we’re going to be too busy to haggle anytime soon.”

  “Hey, if you’re waiting for me to argue, you’re gonna wait a while.  The man got shot in the line of duty, the least we can do is see he gets a decent paycheck out of it.”  He leans against the doorway and folds his arms over his chest.  “How’s our timeline looking?”

  Whisper finishes shoving a chair into the corner and wipes her forehead off against her sleeve before rolling it up to check her Pip-boy.  “We’ve got about ten hours left,” she says.  “Figure, two or three to get there and get in position, want to be there about an hour early, give another hour of leeway just in case they make good time coming over the bridge, so…”

  “Five hours,” he finishes.  She nods.  “Huh.  Flip you for first watch?”

  “Fuck that, I already told Hancock he’s taking care of it.  We’ve got a hard day tomorrow.”  She crosses the room, looping her arms around his neck and grinning up at him.  “We need our rest.”

  “Rest doesn’t seem what you have in mind,” he murmurs back, but it’s hard to pretend like he minds when he’s already got a hand hooked around her hip, his thumb rubbing against the fraying fabric of her jeans.  “You got designs on my virtue, partner?”

  She laughs huskily into the crook of his neck.  “That a problem?”

  He must hesitate a second too long, because she leans back, blinking up at him in surprise.  “Is it a problem?”

  Well, nothing for it.  Might as well go all in.  “Depends.  Is it going to be a problem for Hancock?”

  He can see the exact moment she figures out what he’s asking, because her vaguely hazy look of confusion morphs into a snort of undignified laughter.  “Oh, god no,” she says, grinning a little loopily up at him.  “No problems on that front, trust me.  Worst that happens is he gets high and wanders in to workshop your technique.”

  He can’t quite hide his shudder.  “That’s not as reassuring as it probably sounded in your head, pal o’ mine.”

  Her grin picks up edges around the corners, and she leans up on her toes, presses her mouth to the hinge of his jaw.  A second later, he feels her teeth scrape delicately, crosswise against the stubble, and a shiver goes down his spine without any input whatsoever from his higher brain functions.

  “Guess we’ll have to lock the door,” she murmurs against his skin, and he grabs her by the hips and pulls her up to his mouth, drowning his worries in her familiar taste.

  For tonight, at least, he doesn’t have to think about anything else.