#what’s up gobs & ghouls

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

I’ve been a lurker for a little bit and I love your stuff, could we pretty please get some Headcanons for Charon or Gob. I’m on my knees over here they have like no fanfic or content 😭

What a coincidence, I literally just posted headcanons for Gob here (NSFW), and our favorite bouncer is next. I also have long-form works for both in the pipe, but the Charon piece already has some serious work done on it.

Charon's writing frustrates me endlessly tbh. He's so intriguing (and fuckable, obviously), but there's so little there in the canon to answer the questions you naturally have about him. So, I may be taking a few liberties here.

Charon (Fallout 3) NSFW Headcanons

I firmly believe he's prewar, and I think he's been enslaved/"under contract" since he became a ghoul. Regardless of how the whole contract thing works, he has the same issue as Gob where he hasn't been allowed to have desires or boundaries, just in a different way (Charon is obviously able to defend himself physically, and even technically has some manner of free will, but he knows that there are often unpleasant consequences for failing to obey his contract holder). The man IS a slave, but a strangely complicated one. If you want meaningless sex, he'll give it to you. Whether or not he actually wants or enjoys it, you'll never know without a real connection or a long, long time of studying his general behavior. He's incredibly hard to read up front, agreeable but not really warm or open.

His contract is supposed to entitle the holder to his labor in combat, so he's not really required to do anything else, as far as I can tell, including have sex with them if they ask, but I think he would use it as a sort of excuse to do so if he was already inclined.

You can't give him the contract or otherwise "free" him from his enslavement in the game, but in my opinion, that's silly. Sure, I think it would take a long time of him getting used to the idea of it, but I also think he'd certainly WANT to no longer be a slave at some point. Eventually, the contract is moreso an excuse. He never takes it from you when you offer it to him; he's following you because he has nowhere else to go, because he wants to. Eventually, he's following you because he's in love with you in his own way. But as long as you physically hold that piece of paper, he has the excuse.

If he does care about you, he will resist your physical advances, at least at first. He believes he's protecting you, as he always does, by sparing you from the social consequences of choosing to be with a ghoul. However, at the end of the day, he wants you, too, and eventually he won't be able to deny himself, especially if he knows you won't deny him. Even then, he'll kind of hate himself for being too weak to not fall in love with you, and he'll feel insanely guilty and selfish for not letting you go like he should. He's a fairly morose man overall, and I think he'd spend a lot of time pondering what the consequences of you two choosing one another this way will inevitably be.

Even with that under consideration, he'd still be happy with you. Keeping you safe and happy is pleasing to him (even if he likes to feign annoyance at your little peculiarities and your choices sometimes), and you'd get to slowly, painstakingly slowly begin to see him sort of begin to become his own man again. Over time, he'll talk more, but it's still almost always to ask about you, to remark about something that isn't himself.

Speaking of which, once he begins to "wake up", so to speak, become more aware of his newly-granted autonomy and his desires, as well as your own, he's gonna be rearing to go all the time. Slowly, he's gonna become fully cognizant of the fact that you really do want him as much as he wants you, so...why shouldn't you be fucking right this second, again? Doesn't really matter where you are. Who's gonna stop him from fucking you? Who's gonna succeed if they try? What I'm saying is this: I hope you're ready to basically be a free-use pocket pussy for this big-ass ghoul.

Some ghouls, like Cooper Howard, were once pretty serious ladies' men who've developed some hard edges over their long lives; despite this, that charisma often remains buried somewhere deep inside them, waiting to jump out at the right person. Charon is not that. This man had zero game before the war and he has less than none now. If you want traditional romantic gestures from him, you are going to have to specifically explain and request them, as unromantic as that may sound on its face. He wants to see you happy, but he's never really had to think romantically, so it doesn't come naturally to him at all. He knows about foreplay as a concept, but lacks patience and finesse when it comes to getting things started. Lots of shoving his hand up your shirt, down your pants sort of awkwardly in the beginning. Roughly groping you to signal he's in the mood to the point where it sort of hurts.

You know what they say about men? The dense ones fuck the hardest. Charon IS that; he's not unintelligent, just a very straightforward thinker. But he's obviously great at following directions, including when you beg him to fuck you until you can't stand.

He's just as quiet during sex as he is normally, save for a few grunts and growls and occasionally asking if you're okay, but you may notice over time that he's more physically affectionate. Likes to stroke your face, pet your hair, pepper you with kisses in a way he usually doesn't. I think he would see you being distracted by him rearranging your guts as an opportunity to be slightly more vulnerable.

Big fan of cockwarming. Already likes to just hold you in his arms while you both do something quiet, but he likes it even more when you're doing whatever you're doing slid down on his cock. His favorite is when you climb up into his lap, naked from the waist down, sink down on him, and immediately take a nap on his chest.

[libertybri]

What would Gob and Moira be like as traveling companions?

GOB

He would initially be really nervous to go outside of Megaton

Extremely curious about ghoul communities, which encourages him to explore with Lone

He’s a very wary companion and scopes out for danger any chance he gets

Struggles to sleep the first few nights outside

With a little more time getting used to it, he handles a gun pretty well in a fight and becomes more witted in fighting banter with enemies (which amuses Lone)

Enjoys the taste of freedom regardless of the price of giving up safety behind walls

Not great with hand-to-hand combat and pretty clumsy in difficult terrain

He especially loves visiting the Underworld [and Tenpenny Tower- assuming the other ghouls live there]

One day hopes to find a new place for himself in the Wasteland and talks highly about each new location they visit

Traveling conversations with him would involve deep personal talks about his next steps in life as he looks to Lone for advice, as well as friendly banter as he grows more comfortable with Lone as a friend/companion

Moira

She’s very curious about developing new survival tactics in the dangerous Wasteland and practically jumps at the opportunity to go explore with Lone

Has several maps with pre-marked locations of “hidden treasures” she wishes to find, all of course are just rumors she’s heard from travelers but she’s hopeful

Her bag is always stocked with goods for both her and Lone

Her handgun skills are merely average, but she’s surprisingly great with long-range scoped weapons

Bartering with traders comes naturally to her and she can easily obtain deals for Lone’s personal trading

Always carrying a sweet treat

She learns she has a love for explosions; Develops great handling on grenades

Lone’s input would be required for a new Wasteland Survival Guide that Moira determines she must write during her travels, as they experience a lot of new dangers together every day

Traveling conversations with her would include a lot of babbling about absolutely nothing, but also some very interesting theoretical inquiries whenever they come across a little-phenomenon

[valen-dreth]

I am enticed by your fallout 3 headcanons and would like to hear them if you’re willing to share

come closer. you will see my vision

(a lot of this goes off of my old hcs from YEARS ago please bear with me)

underworld is at its smallest population since its founding. it used to be a much busier establishment so far as trade and scavenging went; several people owned pack brahmin (outside of course) and traveled to other settlements till the enclave and brotherhood got their footholds and pushed the ghouls back into the museum. since being stuck inside the population has slowly been dwindling even despite new people showing up (gob, snowflake, and crowley were the newest arrivals)

EXPANDING on that, barrows and carol were among 2 of the first to arrive to underworld. it was more of an area then of refugees with little structure or amenities until ahzrukhal showed up with a Host of followers. prior to arriving in dc, he had been involved in arms trade immediately following the great war and had amassed a following of a raider-like group. he was overthrown eventually and he and those loyal to him were forcibly ghoulified, after which point he stumbled upon underworld and started making it Comfortable.

there is a lot more to the structure of the settlement than is seen. i think a floor or two below the Concourse we can access in game there could be employee access halls, since reclaimed and openly accessible. theres employee showers down there and long abandoned lockers (no one really uses them and theres no locks but its a Place to stash things, no one really goes thru them)

FURTHERMORE theres a lot more beds and living areas thjan just what we get to see. beds and mattresses were recovered from nearby apartments using aforementioned pack brahmin

was thinking again of tulip knowing and teaching others ASL.... i think that likely most ghouls do know at least some! barrows was especially interested in learning and pushing tulip to teach others, he wonders if it could be a viable way to communicate with someone after they have become feral but he's not yet had a chance to test it (thank god.)

griffon has never actually been Into the underworld exhibit where everyone lives. he stays across the mall at his own place so he's never really had a Need to

WANT to give winthrop a glass eye.... when he was human it matched perfectly but now that he's ghoulified his eyes have changed color completely and its a bit jarring

most of the ghouls have never seen a super mutant, but they've heard of them. it was a Bit frightening when Fawkes showed up right outside but most everyone is cool with him now

[danses-with-dogmeat]

G is for -- Gob

My sweet, sweet Gob 🥺

There's a reason his is so long 😅 I could write for this lovely guy forever <3

I hope y'all enjoy this one!

And here is the 2k event masterlist, for your browsing pleasure!

Also, just a little TW for brief mentions of abuse.

--

Pair: Gob x g/n! Lone

Dialogue: "I don't care if someone sees."

Word: Gush

Rating: SFW - but suggestive in some areas 😅

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 1.9k

“Get over yourself,” Lone scoffed good-naturedly at the bartender across the counter. “Gob here can make a proper drink out of anything, you really– you wouldn’t believe it, I’m telling you.”

“Let’s not insult the man passing out the drinks, eh?” Gob said gently, leaning towards them so as not to allow his words to reach the man across the way.

“I’m not insulting him.” 

Gob seemed to pale at that.  That, and the loudness of their voice.

“No, but he was bragging a bit, and I’m sure his drink that he made from– what was it? Mirelurk egg yolk? Yeah. I’m sure it’s wonderful, but honestly, Gob, I’ve never had anything compare to that radscorpion venom and mutfruit thing you used to make for me back at Moriarty’s.” 

The poor ghoul smiled so nervously, like it pained him to do so, and Lone felt a pang of regret hit them. 

He hates when I do this…

“No, I’m sure yours is fantastic," they turned back to the bartender, "It’s gotta be, with how used to mirelurk you all must be here on the boat, I’m sure you know what best goes into it and everything, but um… Thank you. For the drinks, they'll be absolutely wonderful, I'm positive. Anyway, have a good night.” 

The blue-eyed brunette across the counter just quirked one brow at the unseemly pair, flashing a small grin as they slid off the stools, drinks in hand as they headed towards one of the small, round tables towards the edge of the restaurant in the middle of the Rivet City marketplace. 

“I’m sorry, Gob. I don’t mean to embarrass you, but…” 

“No, Lone, it’s really alright. Just… not used to all this, is all.” 

“I know.” Their voice was small, their drink neglected, as they only continued swishing it distractedly in their hand. “I wish you were though. I like bragging about you.”

Gob snorted, the sound all the more obvious with his meager nose. 

What’s there to brag about?

He didn’t need to say a word of the negative thoughts spiraling through his head. Lone could see them as plainly on his face as if he’d written them there in red ink. 

A firm clink sounded as they dropped their glass to the table forcefully, and Gob flinched. His grey eyes were cast downwards to the wooden floorboards, his fingers moving restlessly against each other where his hands were clasped together on the table. 

“Sorry.” Lone offered quickly, at his reaction. “But dammit Gob, do you think I would lie to you?”

“W-what?” 

“Do you not trust me?” 

“No, Lone, I trust you with my life, you know that, that’s not the ah… well…” 

“No, but it is, baby.” Gob’s eyes snapped to the contact as Lone’s fingers wound themselves to clasp with his on the tabletop. “You have to believe that I’m telling the truth, that I’m being genuine when I compliment you or brag about you, that I’m not just saying it to make you feel better, or anything. I mean, if you do, that’s a nice benefit, but when I gush about you, I do it because that’s really how I feel.” 

He didn’t even open his mouth to try and respond, just kept his gaze low beneath his furrowed brow. Lone almost spoke up again, until they felt his fingers move over their hand, the textured digits stroking lightly over their knuckles as the thoughts churned in his head. 

They stayed silent, then, and let him think, let him soak in the words they’d spoken, and if they were lucky, let him start to believe them. 

The restaurant slowly grew more busy, as the pair sat there in silence, Lone sipping their drink with one hand, as the other stayed clasped with Gob’s. Low voices began to toil and resonate within the metal walls of the ship as it came to life in the post-work evening. 

“I wish that I did…” Gob finally said, so low, Lone almost thought they’d imagined it. “Believe you, I mean… I wish it were easier, but, the way everyone else has treated me, the way Moriarty…” 

“I know.” They agreed sadly, giving his hand an affectionate squeeze. 

“E-even Nova, I know we seemed close, but… Still, in her face, I could see it. The… disgust.” 

Now Lone flinched, the admittance like the sharp sting of a bloatfly. 

“Some people just don’t know what to say, when they see others who are different, but that doesn’t mean you’re worth any less. That you’re any less of a person. I hope you know that.” 

Gob hummed uncertainly. 

“You seem to be the only one who thinks that way. There’s a reason people call us ghouls, you know?” 

“Well then,” Lone stood up, unclasping their hand from his so they could grab the chair they’d been sitting in across from him, and move it to sit directly beside Gob’s. “I guess I don’t really care what anyone else thinks. Because you’re a person, and even more incredible? You’re a good one. Even after all the shit ‘proper people’ have put you through, you’re still a sweetheart.” 

That forced a smile to his ruined lips, and Gob found himself leaning his head into his partner as they wrapped their arms around him in an all-encompassing sideways hug. 

“Lone…” He said their name with a chuckle, inspiring a delightful smile to pull at their mouth as well, just as they released him from their grasp, ever so slightly, to look into his glinting stormy, ocean eyes. “You sure you’re not an angel or somethin’? Cuz I can hardly believe you’re even real.” 

They blushed so sweetly at that, it made Gob’s stomach flutter. 

“Oh, I’m real, alright. You want me to prove it to ya?” 

Their eyes glittered with a genial sort of mischief, and the pittering in his stomach swelled to a startling jolt, as he felt his own face heat at the way his partner began to lean towards him, the way they looked at him, like he was something to be savored. 

How strange it felt, to be looked at that way… But how wondrous was the feeling that came with it. To be, not only tolerated visually, but wanted, desired, worth savoring. 

Gob felt as though he must be unconscious, to have someone look at him in such a way. It wasn’t– couldn’t be real life. It had to be a vision, a dream. Maybe Moriarty had hit him hard enough this time, maybe he was out for good. 

No matter what it was, he could only hope he lived in this dream forever. 

Without thinking, Gob found himself nodding to Lone’s question with wide eyes.

They grinned, satisfied, and leaned into him. 

The pair had kissed before, sure, and they’d done more than kissing, much to his surprise, and his delight– as nervous as he’d been for it all, but still… Nothing could quite quiet his mind and fill him to the brim with affection and elation like Lone’s sweet kisses. 

He could taste the slight bite of their alcoholic drink on their lips, could revel in the softness of their skin. So close to them, he could smell their familiar scent, the cornflower soap they used and the earthy clay from their boots. He could feel their warmth through their vault suit, where he hadn’t even realized he’d allowed his hands to roam. 

Gob was usually so reserved with his affections, so unsure, even after all this time, that Lone would want him touching their body, but after all they’d said and made clear to him this evening… They were right, he had to believe them. That they wanted this as much as he did, that they found him desirable, that they felt he was worth complimenting, worth bragging about– the way he felt about them. 

There wasn’t a day that’d gone by since he met the vault-dweller that he didn’t talk about them to someone. That he didn’t gush and amateurly wax poetic about their goodness, their kindness, their face, their eyes, their everything that he adored about them, even when they were still but a pleasant stranger. 

And he adored everything. 

Soon enough, the ghoul was completely absorbed in their contact. His hands respectfully wandered, tracing his partner’s soft skin, the seams of their suit; he tilted his head, deepening their kiss with a groan he simply couldn’t hold back, his face heating at the way Lone took that as an invitation to slip their tongue in to brush with his. 

They scooted forward, nearly until they were off their chair, using their hold around his shoulders to brace themselves as they melded their lips with his over and again, pausing only to pull in shallow breaths between the undulating contact. 

Gob wished he could tune everything out forevermore. That it could only be them two, where they both could feel more than adequate in this harsh world. Where he could feel deserving of the love his partner poured into him, where Gob could be beside them without garnering whispered insults and judgemental looks. 

Where they could simply be. 

But that wasn’t possible, he realized again, for the thousandth time, as he heard a dull comment about public indecency from not too far beside him. Then another, from a table behind the pair, about how much, they wondered, was the ghoul paying his partner to be with him, to do this with him. And in public, too. What will the kids think, if they see this sort of contact between the likes of him and that nice, young man/woman? 

Lone pulled away, as they felt Gob failing to reciprocate. 

“Did I get too carried away?” They asked with a breathless chuckle. 

The way Gob’s chest ached at their obliviousness, at their honest question, must have been plain on his face, because the smile Lone wore was soon dashed from their lips. 

“What’s wrong?” 

He shook his head, but his eyes must’ve betrayed him, as the noisy couple behind them continued to make their rude comments. 

“Oh, fucking hell.” 

Lone almost stood up, but Gob’s hand on their arm stopped them. 

“‘S not worth it, Lone.” 

They still simmered in his hold, their eyes alight and their nostrils flared. 

“You know what?” They said, their voice needlessly loud– he can only assume so that it reached the mannerless folks in question.

Gob barely had time to prepare himself, as Lone’s hands tangled in his shirt collar, and they hauled him into another kiss. This one was firm, powerful, as they pressed into him and resumed the ebb and flow of tender touching they’d both been absorbed in only a few moments ago. 

“Lone–” He tried to say through the kiss, his hands gently urging them back so he could speak properly. 

“No.” They said, as they relented, keeping their hands on his shoulders as their expression pleaded with him. 

“Gob, I don’t care if someone sees. If someone sees and doesn’t like. That’s not our problem, it’s theirs.” 

Their searing look was turned pointedly at the couple near to them, before it darted back to him, instantly softening as it set upon his face. 

Despite himself, Gob felt those tingles rise up in his gut again. 

“I love you, Gob, and if I wanna kiss you in public, everyone else can just deal with it, okay?” 

A grin broke out over his face, and Gob felt his hands tighten unwittingly where they rested on his partner’s waist. 

“Okay…” He nodded to them, before leaning in once again, and pressing his lips to theirs. 

This time was a bit more chaste, but only because he felt the overwhelming need to pull away, just for a moment, just to whisper, “And… I love you too, Lone.” 

[orionlancasterr]

15 lines of dialogue

I was tagged by @adelaidedrubman and @8bitpizzacoupons I am also suuuper late so i'm not gonna tag anyone myself lmao

Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture their character/personality/vibe. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you’re free to include those as well.

Noose

“Gob were you ghoulified by a direct nuclear blast or by gradual exposure? I was talking to Moira and she said that those were the two ways to become a ghoul but I found a government study in the national archives about how they were trying to make ghouls before the war because they thought that they would survive the bombs better but since ghouls are sterile it wasn’t much of a good option so they only made a few of them and- Gob are you a pre-war ghoul? I mean it’s unlikely but I’m taking notes because I heard that there was a doctor in necropolis who studies ghouls and- oh sorry.”

“Oh my god Rust is gonna love you guys, she’s a total nerd, I think she’s read the user manuals for the T-45’s like a million times.”

“Vault 87 is actually kind of interesting because from what I read it wasn’t even originally supposed to be a research site but I couldn’t find any records on what the original experiment was supposed to be despite the fact that it was changed last minute…and of course it’s awful that its right behind your town of course and the super mutants have been killing your people for years, right. Sorry.”

“I’ll come find you in Bigtown in few years, promise.”

“Jesus, RJ is running a whole town by himself and you wont let me leave Megaton without what, an armed body guard? I’ve been shot, stabbed and blown up just this month alone and I’m still standing. I can handle myself.” (They are 13)

“Feel like a big man, killing a kid for a poker chip?”

“Just my fucking luck.”

“You’re a smart guy Arcade what do you think happened- OW Shit!”

“We’re gonna walk right on in together and see just how much your legionnaires care about you.”

“The NCR, the Legion, House they’re all the same and you’re too stubborn to even see it! All these people want is control, they don’t care about any one person, hell at least the legion is transparent about it. I mean do you think if you kill enough kids and old women that Kimball will come all the way from Shady Sands to personally suck your dick, Boone? What did you think would happen? I’m fucking talking to you, asshole!”

“Kill yourself.” 12 “I read about this place once, in the DC Library. It was supposed to be a top tier resort for a bunch of rich people. I don’t think it ever opened before the bombs fell.”

“I wanted to be an archivist when I was a kid. I loved collecting information like you love collecting spare parts…I wonder if we’d have met when we were little, if we’d grown up together if we’d have worked out.”

“Who did you say you were waiting on? MacCready? Like, RJ? From Little Lamplight?”

“I’m tired.”

[kharonion]

Hey Khar! For the kiss ask meme, 10 + dealers choice of OCs? Hope you are doing good 💚

spots to kiss prompts | oc list

A kiss on that space where jaw connects. — CHARON/GOB [canon verse]

The sigh that rattles from him is the amalgamation of pure exhaustion. A busy day, it was. It never seemed to slow; he wonders just where all of these customers even came from. Part of him wonders if Vaultie is responsible, spreading his name around to flock people here.

Gob is cleaning the countertop—spotless, as he’s been scolded into doing for years—until his olive eyes perk up to watch the other presence in the bar. 

It’s hard to believe even still that this is where they are. 

“Is everything to your liking?” The haggard voice yanks Gob back to reality. He didn’t realize he was staring like a baffled smoothskin.

“H-Huh—? Oh, uh, y-yes, of course!”

Suddenly, the towering ghoul is across from him at the counter. A large hand rests on his smaller one, halting its circular motions as it’s still wiping away. Deft fingers wrangle the cloth free, lay it out flat on the marble—giving him a safe place to lean down onto his elbows as to not ruin Gob’s work. 

One of those small courtesies that no one would expect from such a man—that warms Gob’s whole heart.

“You seemed to be distracted today. Have you been resting well enough?”

“Wha— Yeah. It was just a busy day.”

Charon hums in understanding. It’s only then Gob registers just how much the man is in his space; he can catch those vague twinkles in the seas of baby blue, the unconscious, subtle twitches across his hard features. It’s quickly becoming difficult to ignore just how little distance is between them… and is it just him, or are they gravitating closer by the second?

He knows the intact flesh of his cheeks is scorching bright in the dim light.

But, even when such opportunities arise, Charon never leaps to take it. Just like right now; he’s got Gob in the crosshairs—bashful as he is—but there’s seemingly no desire to seize it. Instead, Charon is just… watching him. 

No, no. He’s gazing at him. Longing, yearning, relishing. Like Gob is the only thing in the world right now.

He cranes his neck forward, so close now that his scarred lips tickle the junction of his jaw, voice dipping an octave and even though it rattles like there’s a rock in his throat, it carries with it a gentleness that no one else will ever know.

“Go. Rest. I will finish out here,” Charon murmurs. The only thing softer than those words is the kiss he plants there. Gob damn near wilts away.

“After-Afterward, will you…?”

Charon’s eased back just enough to return to looking into Gob’s eyes, cupping a cheek in a palm. He’s quick to answer, even though the question trailed off into nervous mutters. “Of course I will. For the moment, I can see you to bed. I only ask you to promise me one thing.”

Gob nods, smiles so wide he feels it reach his eyes.

“Do not wait to sleep… and keep the bed warm for me.”

That gets him to chuckle, and Gob nods again. Because it’s a routine every night: Charon willingly finishing what Gob starts after tucking him snug into bed, where Gob sprawls across the space Charon usually lays with face in the pillow as he dozes light enough to wake upon Charon’s arrival. 

“Only if you promise not to take too long.”

“As you wish, rodnaya.”

[ghoulphile]

hi! um, a couple random questions if you've got the time and do not mind.

1. thoughts on Gob & Raul, my most beloved ghouls? not looking for anything specific, just curious, i'm new around this blog i guess, haha.

2. i'm also becoming deeply afflicted with the Walton Goggins BrainRot™ and am going to be binge watching some of his movies, do you have a favorite?

3. also also have you seen his Wikipedia photo? dear god that man truly has a 100,000 watt smile, it feels like i've just stared into the sun, 10/10 do recommend.

have a pleasant day, and thanks for your time! be well! 👍

hello and welcome~ i’m more than happy to answer random questions, i love them 🥰

1. thoughts on Gob & Raul, my most beloved ghouls?

i love them both! this is an all ghouls lover blog lol. gob is my baby — i will murder anyone who harms him, and raul is my sassy sarcastic lil guy.

2. i'm also becoming deeply afflicted with the Walton Goggins BrainRot™ and am going to be binge watching some of his movies, do you have a favorite?

so funny thing is… i’m working my way through his filmography myself 😅 i had no clue who he was before fallout even though he’s been in several of my fave movies like? what??

that said, i’ve watched vice principals, the unicorn, and the righteous gemstones for his tv shows so far. i adored vice principals so i’d definitely recommend that one. i also really liked the unicorn (still finishing season one), it’s got a cute story and he looks too good in every episode 😮‍💨

the righteous gemstones — he’s not in very much though i just finished season 1 so idk, plus he’s a 70 year old man in it so it’s not really a thirst watch for me. i’m ambivalent about it atm if i’m being honest. idk if it’s the premise (televangelist family with scandals and secrets… and i didn’t grow up with religion/church so some things kinda made me go ???) or what but it’s not my favorite thus far. the acting is great and there are a lot of people from vice principals in it, and other shows i like but 🤷‍♀️ we’ll see lol.

for movies, i love the maze runner series and recently rewatched it — though he’s in the death cure for all of 3 minutes? maybe? idk but he doesn’t have a nose again lol. there’s also the 2018 reboot of tomb raider and the ant-man movie but i have no clue of his involvement as i watched them before i knew who he was.

3. also also have you seen his Wikipedia photo? dear god that man truly has a 100,000 watt smile, it feels like i've just stared into the sun, 10/10 do recommend.

oh 🥹 you’re so right he’s such a cute dork i cant—

i hope you have a great day ❤️!

[lillian-gallows]

Kinktober Day 1: Leather with Charon

Pairing: Charon x Reader/Lone Wanderer (Neither (Y/n) nor LW names used) Word Count: 3650 Warnings: Leather kink, Oral (F receiving), vaginal fingering, P in V sex, unprotected sex (Wrap it before you tap it), aftercare, lil bit of dirty talk, feelings (These bitches in love). Kinktober Master(sub)list.

Minors DNI

My arms ached as we trudged through the metal door to our shared home in Megaton, the sound of Charon closing and locking it behind himself followed me up the stairs as my heavy feet carried me to my bedroom to drop my pack before I went to prepare the pair of us some dinner before the inevitable crash that always came after weeks on the dusty roads of the Capitol Wasteland.

“Bring your guns down with you, they need maintenance.” His low gravelly voice broke the non-silence of the house as I was shucking my Tunnel Snakes jacket off, preparing to change into lounge clothes.

The deep timbre of his voice sent a shiver down my spine that I was too tired to acknowledge right then.

“Yeah.” I called back before unzipping and messily stripping out of my vault suit, leaving it and my boots in a heap on the floor for tomorrow me to deal with, it needed washing anyway so it’s not like a night on the floor will hurt anything.

The worn soft material of my Brahmin skin pants was a welcome change from the skintight blue I’d been wearing for the last two weeks. It was a good thing that at this point Charon and I were used to each other’s smells, because I was sure I reeked, but bathing, just like laundry, would have to be a problem for future me.

With my pistol and assault rifle in hand I made my way back downstairs with heavy steps, softened by the Brahmin leather house shoes I now wore. “What sounds good? I’m thinking a couple cans of cram?” I asked the room at large, though I could see him sitting on the couch with his shotgun already in pieces.

“Got anymore of Jenny’s Mirelurk cakes in the fridge?” He asked, a question of such casual nature would have been unheard of 6 months ago, when it was like pulling teeth to get any kind of verbal acknowledgement from the large ghoul, but we hadn’t been quite so close then.

“I think so, don’t know if they’re still any good.” I made a face, though he wasn’t looking at me, I was trying not to look at him as I set my weapons on the couch next to him that was for certain.

I knew he was still wearing his leather armor, and out on the road there were enough distractions to keep me from thinking about how he looked, the way the thick material wrapped around and stretched over his muscular arms, the slight creak it would give when he flexed just right, and the way it made my lower belly feel like fire in the best way.

But here at home, where we were safe? There was nothing to help keep me from staring, nothing to help keep my brain occupied and not thinking about how much I desperately want to fuck my partner, a title that we’d agreed to use after a test run to make sure the mental conditioning wouldn’t cause him any issues.

It was right around that time that he started opening up more, about himself and just in general, like a switch had been flipped. Now, he still isn’t the chatty type, still content to stand behind me and stare menacingly while I do all the talking, but that was for the better, he’s not much of a people person.

And as he opened up, the schoolgirl style crush I’d gained on the man had evolved and after a near death experience I’d admitted to it, which resulted in…Whatever we were now, more than fuckbuddies, but the L word hasn’t been uttered though there were definitely feelings involved, I guess one could call it ‘going steady’ but we don’t exactly go on dates, seeing as the only options for that would be to go to Gob’s Saloon or the Brass Lantern, and we have booze and food at home, but I digress! The important part is that we haven’t taken any physical steps yet.

I’d asked about it once, why he hadn’t put the moves on me the way boys in the Vault had before they decided that I was untouchable. He’d said that he’d been around for a long time, and he was content to take our time, go at whatever pace I needed, and when I was ready, he was too.

At the time I’d been thankful for that. I’m no virgin, but this was a much deeper relationship than any other I’d ever had, so I didn’t want to fuck it all up by jumping into bed too fast, but it’s been 3 months and I was getting antsy, and that damn leather armor wasn’t helping!

It drove me insane, and it made it harder to keep my mouth shut, especially when he took off the top half and left the pants on, usually when he had to make repairs to a shoulder pad or something, giving me a beautiful view of the plains of his chest and back, rough patches of scarred skin over thick muscle that I knew was for far more than show.

“(Y/n)?” His voice saying my name damn near had a whimper falling from my lips as I snapped out of my thoughts to realize I’d been leaning against the counter staring at him this whole time. Shit, real fucking smooth Rad-for-brains…

“Hmm?” It came out a little dumb in my efforts to sound casual.

“You okay?” He sounded so genuinely concerned and it made my chest ache a little, still unused to being cared for.

“Yeah, why?” I asked, voice a little higher pitched than necessary as I turned to get our dinner ready, sniffing the plate of Mirelurk cakes and nearly gagging at the smell. “The cakes went bad.” I announced, still trying to sound casual, but then I heard him moving behind me.

“I said your name three times before you answered me.” He said from much closer than the couch, and a look over my shoulder revealed that he was standing in all his black leather glory about three feet from me. “And you were making the face you make when you’re thinking about something.”

I make a thinking face? And he noticed it? Could he get any more perfect?

“It’s nothing, just getting lost in thought, you know how I get when I’m tired.” I shrugged, and it was true, I turn into a total space-brain when I get too tired.

The sound of him moving met my ears and I could feel his heat at my back, he was close to me now, probably less than a foot away. “That wasn’t your space-brain face.” He said lowly, inches from my ear. “Talk to me.” I felt his rough hand wrap around my forearm soothingly, the warm weight was grounding and it made something zing down my spine when I saw the black sleeve of his shirt.

Setting down the unopened can of Cram I let out a sigh and closed my eyes. “Leather.” I said, like it would explain everything.

“Leather?” He repeated and I could picture his confused face.

“Your armor, the leather…It…” I let out another sigh, harsher this time as I got annoyed with my inability to just say it. “Your leather armor turns me on. Like really bad, and I can’t stop thinking about it and how much I want you to pin me down and fuck me within an inch of my life every time I see you in it.” The words came out in a rush, but I was sure it was clear and coherent enough for him to understand, he’s always been good at deciphering my ramblings.

I felt him get closer, till his chest pressed into my back, pinning me between him and the counter. “Do you want me to do something about it?” He had, voice somehow lower than ever before and husky and his breath is hot on my neck as his free hand wraps around the curve of my hip and gives a gentle squeeze of the softness there.

My brain ground to a pleasant halt at his words and actions, words seemed miles away now, so I nodded instead, and he let out a quiet “Tsk” before he turned me to face him, wasting no time to crowd back into me once he had me where he wanted me. “Words, Baby…Need to hear you say it.”

His foggy blue eyes were burning into mine with a heat that I’d seen before but hadn’t been able to name, usually after he watched me do something smart like hack a terminal or talk our way to a better bounty for a job, now I knew the name, it was lust.

“Please, do something about it.” The words were so quiet I was worried I’d only mouthed them for a moment, but then a small slow smile curled the corners of his lips before he leaned down and pressed them to mine.

We’d kissed before, plenty of times, usually in the privacy of camp or here at home, but it was normally just little pecks, never proper making out, and certainly nothing like this. His lips were as rough as they always were, but he moved slow, like he was savoring it as much as I was. He had his hand on my chin to tilt my head back for a better angle as he tilted his head to the side, running his tongue over my lower lip, pulling a soft gasp from me that he used as an opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth.

My hands, which had felt almost numb hanging at my sides seemed to find their life again as one came to rest on his chest, curling around one of the pads of his armor and into the fabric, while the other rested on his cheek tenderly, thumb brushing back and forth along his cheekbone.

He had an almost death grip on my hip, keeping me pulled flush to his body, letting me feel every curve and angle he had to offer though the thickness of his clothes, which included the very solid presence in the front of his pants, the realization of which made my pussy ache for him.

Taking some initiative, I pressed my hips to his, grinding as best I could with our height difference, and he let out a shuddering breath, soft and warm against my lips.

I felt his muscles flex under his armor seconds before he was lifting me, a hand under my ass while the other held my thigh, prompting me to wrap my legs around his waist as he pulled back from the counter and started toward the stairs, taking me with him.

As we went, I set to work undoing the buckles and belts of his armor, determined to feel and see more of him.

By the time he was laying me out on my bed, the door kicked closed behind us, all he had to do was shrug out of his shirt, which he did before dropping to his knees between my legs, hanging off the edge of the bed.

His hands deftly worked my pants off, slipping them slowly down my legs to reveal I wasn’t wearing anything under them, giving him a perfect view of my slickened pussy.

I watched him lean in then stop inches from contact to look up at me, gazes locking, pupils dilated and questioning, like he thought that I would stop him now of all times. I nodded my assent, and he wasted not a second more before diving in, pressing kisses first to my thighs, still plush from my time in the Vault but more muscular than they had been from all the walking.

The kisses turned into bites that punched a moan from my lips, my hand flying down to grip his where it wrapped around the outside of my thigh, I felt rather than saw him smirk before he ran his tongue from the bottom of my cunt to the top where it flicked my clit, sending a zing through my body.

“Just started and your thighs are already shaking…” He murmured before repeating his previous action, making my back arch a little. “God you’re perfect.” He sounded like he was saying it more to himself than to me, and I was too lost in him to respond anyway. “All this just from some kissing and seeing me in leather…” He chuckled teasingly. “Poor thing, you’ve been desperate for so long, haven’t you?” He looked back up at me, waiting for my response, but as I managed to put together words, he slipped a thick finger into me and curled it into something that made me cry out. “I could live off the sounds you make.”

He set a slow rhythm, a steady in and out, curling on the way out into that spot over and over while continuing to flick over my clit. I could feel the knot building in my belly, and he must have noticed because he added a second finger and went from flicking to sucking.

“Fuck! Charon…!” I whimpered, grip on his hand tightening as he drove me up the hill faster than I’d ever managed on my own.

“Come on, pretty, give it to me…” He coaxed slowly, the low timbre of his voice nearly ended me right then, but no, it was the way his eyes never strayed from mine, the expanse of blue so open and waiting. I tumbled off the cliff in a show of whimpers and gasps, thighs shaking and eyes rolling closed. “There it is, atta girl.” His fingers slowed but didn’t stop, letting me ride out my orgasm.

Once I’d started teetering on the edge of overstimulation I tugged his hand, a wordless request for him to join me on the bed, one heeded with a sweet curl to his lips. He settled over me, hips resting between my thighs, the tight leather rubbing against the slowly bruising skin, and pressed a kiss to my forehead, then another on my cheek, then my nose, then finally his lips met mine and I sighed into the contact, pressing up into him with my whole body, thighs tightening on his hips in an effort to pull him closer.

He let out a shuddery breath as he rolled his hips down against me, the smooth front of his pants delivering sweet friction to my sensitive clit. “Charon…” I breathed his name to get his attention and his eyes cleared as they locked on me, waiting patiently for whatever I was going to say. “Please…” I pleaded, and both of us knew exactly what I was asking for.

His eyes grew hazy once more as his lips pressed to my neck softly, leaving a tender trail down to the hem of my shirt, where his hands followed to tug it up and off, baring me fully to his hungry eyes.

He wasted no time in continuing the sweet trail of kisses down to my chest, where he latched onto one of my nipples to give it a soft suck, the other not left neglected as his hand came to cup it, a rough thumb brushing over the pebbled tip.

He only lingered there for a few moments before sitting up, giving me a full view of his muscular chest and tummy laden with a layer of fat that made him look soft yet didn’t detract from the powerful strength I knew he possessed, and for a moment I wondered if he’d had a happy trail in the same shade of red as his hair before he went ghoul, but that thought lasted only till my eyes met the edge of those damned leather pants, where his hands were working the front open.

As if sensing that I was neither willing to wait that long nor have him move away long enough to fully remove them, he just shoved them down far enough to free his cock, letting out a sigh as the pressure that the front his pants was putting on him was relieved.

He truly is beautiful, all hard plains of scarred muscle and hands that were only gentle for me, light eyes that see into my soul and lips that make my heart sing. I could die a happy woman if it was in his arms.

He stroked his cock a couple times, spreading the precum that had clearly been leaking for a bit over the whole length, my fingers twitched with the urge to reach out and touch, but I knew neither of us had the patience for that right now, and there would be time later, so instead I let out a hum to get his attention.

The diamonds that made up his eyes flashed up to meet mine at the sound, looking half as if he expected something to be wrong and half like he could fall off the edge of sanity at any moment; I understood the feeling.

When I let out another hum and shifted my hips against him the worry in his gaze turned to understanding and he let out what might have been a chuckle if not for his breathlessness.

Shifting his knees where they pressed into the mattress just under my thighs, he leaned down till his face was inches from mine, so close we could share breaths, and pressed the tip to me, not pushing in, but a firm presence.

I only had eyes for him as he held there, he searched my face for a moment before seeming to find what he was looking for and pressing in slowly.

He was thick, thicker than anyone else I’d ever been with, but then he was also the largest man I’d ever seen, so it made sense.

There was a slight burning stretch that a depraved part of me loved, knowing it would leave an ache for the next day or so after we were done, and it made a pleased whimper shiver its way out of me, hands gripping his shoulders to pull him closer while my legs wrapped around him, unable to meet in the middle to lock ankles, but he seemed to understand what I was trying to do as he bottomed out.

He stayed there for a couple moments; forehead pressed into the crook of my neck as his breaths came in ragged puffs that warmed my already flushed skin. It took a moment for it to dawn on me what he was doing.

He was trying not to cum.

I ran my hands up and down his shoulders, arms, the back of his neck, anywhere I could reach soothingly, content to stay like this as long as he needed.

After a couple moments he pulled his face from its hiding spot, eyes half lidded and dark as he looked down at me. He looked like a starving man that’s been given a feast.

I barely had time to react to the shudder that that look sent through me before he was rolling his hips into me, a slow in and out, the curve of his cock brushing hard against that same spot from before on the out stroke and reaching my deepest point on every in stroke.

There was no control to be had over the sounds coming from between my lips, whimpers and gasps and half-finished cries of his name were carried on every breath, and he was no different as he let out soft grunts and sighs, eyes rolling back for a second before locking back on mine once more, like he couldn’t bear the thought of not watching me fall apart under him.

All too soon I felt the building of that sweet release, and just like before he could tell, as one hand, which had been pressed into the mattress next to my head, moved down to make tight circles over my still oversensitive clit, causing me to arch up into him with a sharp gasp.

The climb up the hill was shorter this time, and the plunge off the edge was grander as my vision went white and my body was wracked in shakes. At some point tears began to fall, leaving lines in the dust that still clung to my face from our time on the road.

I had barely enough wherewithal to feel the flood of heat that filled me as he followed me right off that cliff.

When I came back to earth, it was to the feeling of his weight carefully rested on me, most of it on his knees where they rested on either side of my body, and an arm resting next to my head, the other hand now running through my hair slowly.

Turning my head, I found him looking at me, eyes soft.

“Hi…” I whispered, voice a little hoarse from breathlessness.

A gentle smile curled his lips, eyes shining with mirth. “Hey…” He returned, the depth of his voice sending a rumble through my body.

I curled around him as best I could from my position, not caring that his softening cock was slowly slipping from me to free the mess that I knew he’d made of my insides.

We stayed like that, basking in each other for a while, before he got up to get a rag and a can of purified water. When he returned, he gently cleaned me up, then himself, then made me drink half the can before laying back down with me.

I was on the edge of sleep when his voice broke the silence. “So, leather huh?” He teased, and I could hear his smirk.

Sleep became a thing for later as peals of our laughter filled the darkness, light and happy.

[home-on-the-wastes]

Culture Shock (2/?)

Butch is out of Vault 101 less than twenty-four hours before he finds himself in trouble. A familiar face is there to assist, but it allows Butch to see just how much his old bullying victim has changed since his initial foray into the Capital Wasteland. See Part 1 for additional tags and author's notes. Part 1 // 2 // ?

The town–Megaton, Butch learned–wasn’t far from Vault 101. It was just as well, as the doctor there, a surly guy by the name of Church, said that Butch managed to bust not only his leg but a couple of ribs, too. The guy stabbed Butch twice–once in the leg, once right underneath one of his ribs–and said, “Nothing some stimpacks and a bit of rest won’t fix. Now get the hell outta my clinic.”

“Good to see you too, Doc,” Harper replied with fake cheerfulness. He escorted Butch outside and back into the center of Megaton, the atomic bomb sitting quietly in a pool of its own filth. People were staring at Butch like he had grown a second pair of hands, but several nodded at Harper in greeting or maybe even out of respect.

“There really isn’t a hotel around here for you,” Harper said, hands on his hips, worrying his lower lip as he thought. “Gob’s place has a room for rent, though. They’ve got food, and drink too. We could stop by the Brass Lantern, but it’s usually pretty crowded. You hungry?”

“Starvin’.”

“Near death will do that to you. Follow me.”

Harper pointed out a few other places as they climbed a makeshift ramp, like the general store, a church, and the Brass Lantern, another option to eat. But Harper brought him to the highest point in town, letting him take in the view of the ingenuity and desperation of the people here before they entered and sat down at the bar.

Following Harper’s cue, Butch had the decency not to scream at or ask rude questions of the bartender. When he shot Harper a look, Harper quietly said, "He's a ghoul, don't stare." Then Harper ordered two beers for them and some questionable meat kabobs. Harper broke away at one point to talk to a pretty woman smoking a cigarette in the corner in quiet, hushed tones while the bartending ghoul watched on.

Harper came back, looking noticeably frazzled. “You have a room for a couple of days. Nova can show you to it in a bit.”

Butch eyed Nova. “She’s a looker, isn’t she?”

“Can it,” Harper grumbled. “She’s not interested.”

“Oh, lemme take a guess–the great Harper Donovan got shot down?”

“No,” Harper replied, ears starting to turn red. He devoured his kebab in record time. “Just leave her alone. She’s a nice lady.”

“She’s a nice lady,” Butch mimicked in a falsetto. “What are you, four?”

Harper shot Butch a look that made Butch’s pulse stutter. Harper looked…genuinely angry, his expression a scowl that was well-practiced and familiar. But now, after Harper fucked up those raiders with ease, Butch realized that Harper could possibly kill him.

He wasn’t sure how to feel about it. Butch filed that away for something to figure out later.

The two fell into a quiet lull, the chatter of the saloon comforting. Occasionally the ghoul, Gob, came over and checked in on them or fiddled with the radio. They cycled through a couple of songs and an additional kebab each. Then, as Butch drew his lighter to have a smoke, he spoke again.

“Hey, nosebleed. Your hair’s gettin’ kinda long.”

Harper shifted uncomfortably in the metal chair, slowly nursing his beer. “Is it?”

Butch scoffed, watching the ratty, dark brown hair start to trail over Harper’s shoulder. Butch mindlessly tried the lighter, the spark failing once or twice. Harper had a weird mullet situation going on. “Any longer and folks’ll think you’re a girl. I can cut it for ya--at a discount, of course.”

“No!” Harper’s explanation was sharp enough to draw the eyes of some of the saloon patrons. Harper glanced at Gob nervously and took another sip of beer. “No, no,” he added, softer. “It’s fine.” He slipped off his baseball cap. Butch marveled at the cap, wondering how old that thing was. It looked just like the one Harper got for his tenth birthday. There was no way it was the same one, but Harper handled it with such tender care it was enough to make Butch doubt his initial assumption. He kept watching Harper tuck his near-shoulder-length hair into it. It stuck out at awkward angles.

“Now, that just looks trashy,” Butch pointed out.

“Maybe I don’t want to cut my hair.” Harper shifted uncomfortably, his knapsack sliding a bit off his shoulders. “I like it just the way it is.”

“Just looks ugly, that’s all I’m sayin’,” replied Butch, but he shrugged. He finally got the lighter working, and he lit a cigarette. After taking a long drag, he glanced at Harper. “Smoke?”

“Nah.”

“Wuss.”

Harper flinched, and Butch felt a little bad about it. Not enough to apologize, though. It was funny, seeing Harper swing wildly between Wasteland badass and nerdy poindexter who didn’t dare to stand up to him in the vault openly. Harper put some caps on the counter. “His food and drink are on me, okay, Gob?” He turned back to Butch. “I’ve got a place near the gate. Take a day or so to settle, gear up. Then if you want, I can give you a few pointers on where to go.”

“You heading out already?” asked Butch, trying to mask his disappointment.

Harper nodded. “Got some things to take care of. Stay out of trouble, got it?”

“Scout’s honor,” Butch said sarcastically, but he did make a note not to cause any trouble. The barkeeper and the old man with the big gun were freaking him out. Then, offhandedly, he added, “You too, yeah?”

Harper snorted. “No promises.”

<< Previous | Next (TBD) >>

[pyrettawychwiggin]

'Gobsmacked/Moriarty Must Die'

Because ghouls need love too, dammit.

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- Pairing: Maria Röntgen (Lone Wanderer) & Gob

- Rating: Teen/Young Adult/SFW

'Maria's about to something she can't take back. Before she disappears from Megaton forever, she has time for only a single farewell.'

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Note from the author: this is just a quick snippet of a casual fanfiction project I've been chipping away at since I've started playing through Fallout 3 again! The full version may or may not eventually see the light of day, but I figured I'd put it here in case anyone wants to read it! ~ Py

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A few quick notes:

• the name of the Lone Wanderer in this fanfiction is Maria Röntgen.

• Maria arrived in Megaton the same day she left Vault 101; she's been there for about three weeks, and has since gained a fair amount of goodwill from the people there - even having managed to disarm the bomb.

• Maria had become quite close with a few of the settlers there, but especially with Gob and Nova. She and Nova have had a flirtatious fling ever since she'd arrived, and Maria has been very close to Gob as well, though nothing has happened between them as of yet.

• Maria has never killed someone in cold blood before - but after seeing the amount of damage Moriarty has done, she's made a decision; taking him out will be the last thing she does before she disappears.

• This whole story won't be entirely about Gob and Maria - in fact, there are a few characters she ends up involved with, but Gob very well may be the first.

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Our story begins...

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The inky skies were dark over Megaton, and only the sounds of deep metal groans and aching creaks could be heard in the air. Even the radroaches seemed still and unmoving as an unspoken tension rose into the air.

Gob sighed and hummed an old tune under his breath as he wiped down the counter of the bar for the twenty-third time. Moriarty's Saloon was empty and silent as the grave - the few patrons they had were already tucked away in their beds. He enjoyed the peace on nights like this - no one to torment him, no Moriarty to berate him merely for existing in his presence. He couldn't help but think how life would be much nicer if it could just be like this all the time...

To his surprise, the front door swung open and in walked Maria. She seemed to be moving with a purpose, her head on a swivel as she took a seat right up at the bar.

"Oh, it's you, Maria," Gob let out a breath of relief. "Thought you were someone else for a second. You here for a nightcap?"

"Afraid not, Gob." Her eyes moved behind his shoulder to make sure no one was lingering behind him. "I have to tell you something, but we can't be overheard. Is it safe?"

"Uh, yeah. Everyone's out for night. Even Moriarty's out cold." Gob flung his cloth over his shoulder and leaned forward. "What's going on? Never seen you so strung out."

"I'll have to keep this short and sweet, Gob." Maria pressed her palm over the back of the ghoul's hand, gaining his complete, undivided attention. "I'm leaving Megaton. Tonight. After I take care of some... unfinished business."

"You're leaving?" Gob frowned. "Why? Where're you going?"

"I have to find my father, Gob. And besides," she paused, taking a breath before she continued. "Folks probably won't want me around after tonight."

Gob didn't know what to say - with so many questions in his head, he couldn't decide on which ones to start with. Before he could ask anything, Maria continued.

"Listen, Gob. I can't tell you exactly what I'm about to do, but once it's done, you'll know it. Seeing as how you're likely the one to be the first to find out..." Maria pulled a chip from her inner pocket and placed it in the ghoul's hand. "I want you to take this."

"What is it?"

"It's a confession - for a crime. My confession," Maria frowned, looking up into his eyes. "I know how people get, and I don't want anyone blaming you for what's about to happen, but I need you to promise me something."

"Anything, just name it," Gob whispered, leaning across the bar to listen closer.

"You must not listen to it until sunrise. I can't have you knowing any more than you already do - I didn't even want to involve you this much, but I don't have a choice." Maria squeezes his hand earnestly. "Can you promise me that?"

"But I have so many questions," Gob stuttered, unsure what to think.

"Promise me, Gob." Maria pleaded. "Please."

"Yeah," Gob sighs. "I promise."

Maria's shoulders relaxed as she bowed her head in relief. "Thank you."

"I..." Gob started. "... I don't want you to leave."

"Gob..."

"You're one of the only people around here that's nice to me." Gob shakes his head. "I like having you around."

"I like being around too, Gob. Believe me, leaving you here is one of the hardest parts of this whole situation." Maria places her hand gently on Gob's cheek, making his heart skip a beat. "But what I'm about to do is going to benefit not just you, but all of Megaton."

Gob places a hand on hers, pressing his cheek further against her touch. "I'm gonna miss ya, Smoothskin."

"I'll miss you too, barkeep." Maria leans forward and presses her forehead against his, closing her eyes. "Who knows. Maybe someday when this all blows over, I can come by again. But maybe not."

Gob and Maria stayed like this in silence for a minute before Maria sighed. "It's time, Gob. This is where I leave you." To his surprise, Maria places a soft, lingering kiss on his forehead before pulling away for the last time. "Remember. Not until sunrise."

Gob nods sadly, tucking the chip away in his pocket. He kept his head down, gaze to his feet as he listened to Maria's footsteps start to retreat. He quickly looked up as he heard her rushing towards him. Flinging her arms around his neck, she crashed her lips to his.

He couldn't recall the last time he'd been kissed - and it certainly hadn't been like this. When he managed to shake himself out of his shocked stupor, he snaked his arms around Maria's waist, returning her kiss. His heart thundered against his chest, feeling her pressed up against him, knowing this would probably be the first and last time he'd feel her lips on his.

All too quickly, she draws back, hands lingering on his face for just a moment longer; then just as quickly as she'd come, she rushes out the door and into the night, leaving Gob behind the bar, hardly believing what had just happened.

~ To be continued (maybe)

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If y'all enjoyed this, let me know if it's something you'd like to read more of in the future.

~ Pyretta Wychwiggin

[parchmentknight]

downloaded tale of two wastelands (new vegas + fallout 3 mod) and its KICKINF my ASS. spent 4 hours not listening to the guide [critical failure], gave up, slept, woke up, found a video guide and actually followed it, spent 3 hours downloading it, and got it done.

started in the capital wasteland as u dont get ur old saves from new vegas... im so weak and lonely. wheres boone. i need boone. he carries me (4 perception, 3 agility, level one loser) and im so scared. what the hell is a mirelurk. when does dogmeat appear. i want boone back. gob is the best ghoul.

^hasnt left megaton yet and is too scared to leave without a friend

[valen-dreth]

omg ahzrukhal jumpscare!! i remember all of your old ghoul content, I was wondering if your interpretation of ahz has changed since then?

uuguggfhg he compels me.... i have thought abt him nonstop the last week. some new thoughts:

i think he had something to do with gob leaving. either he talked up the idea of making his fortune in the wastes or otherwise convinced him of like a Specific opportunity or something, i think it was a play at trying to get at carol. his current scheme with greta is kind of a last ditch effort

was considering how he might have come upon charon's contract as well! my current idea is that it was won in a wager though who with and what ahzrukhal might have bet with im not yet sure. i do think it was a long con trying to get the contract though, they'd encountered each other before

i maintain hes not creepy in the way of trying to hit on customers. its bad for business

i said previously he has some fluency in latin BUT ive decided he knows some fr*nch too

in my last art of him i drew him missing half of his right pinkie (initially on accident but i was like ykno lets roll w it)

thinkin on ahzrukhal's ghost au. will compile more on that later

ive noticed my previous interpretation was really lacking in his measured composure and underhanded scheming. i need 2 do better lol

i ALSO wanna do some more thinking on charon and the two of them... much to think abt

[danses-with-dogmeat]

Day 4 -- Rotface

The (nsfw) details for Kinktober, Day 4 are just below the cut!

Minors, please don’t interact.

Prostitution with Rotface x F!Six

GOODNESS I've waited so long to post something with Rotface 😩 He was like Gob 2.0 for me when I played New Vegas for the first time, just like... INSTANT love for him, ugh ❤️

This one I thought was pretty darn sweet, and a little glimpse into his life on that street corner where Six meets him.

I hope you like it!

Here is the link to my  Kinktober 2023 Event List so you can stay up-to-date, or re-visit these works as you please.

Included: Prostitution, drinking (alcohol lol), cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, dry humping, pining, hopes and dreams.

Words: 4.5k

--

Rotface lounged against his dusty curb like it was an elegant chaise, his body sinking lower and lower down throughout the long, hot day. The coolness of the air was refreshing as the sun bowed its head over the sand in the distance. Patrons, Freeside goers, and tourists alike had all hidden away in their homes or gone off to gamble and sin for the remainder of the night. 

But the ghoul had waited in silence, one ruined finger brushing over the neck of some cheap bottle of liquor he’d managed to get his hands on. Some whiskey, or bourbon maybe. Perhaps even rum gone a little bit… off. He didn’t know or care much, his stomach and tongue were impartial, but his head… Oh, his head needed it if he was to make it through another interaction with his favorite patron to date. 

And, like he'd called her over with nothing but the mere thought, over she came. It was unmistakable, the telltale click of her shoes on the pavement, the pacing of her steps, unhurried, but anything but relaxed. Even before Six rounded the corner, Rotface could catch her scent wafting on the light breeze: cheap perfume, cigarette smoke, and gunpowder. Always a hint of it, no matter what she wished to mask it with. 

It embarrassed him to even think it, but her scent was one he wished he could wrap himself in, like some strange desert creature burying itself in the sand for shelter from the elements, he wanted it to envelop him. 

Need to get over this shit. Hopefully the drink’ll help. 

“Hey, you. Fancy meeting ya ‘round these parts.” Six’s voice broke him from his thoughts, and he looked up at her, gazing wide-eyed, as if he was seeing her for the first time. 

Damn, how it always feels that way. 

Like a bullet to the chest from some Freeside thug, her visage hit him hard.

As per usual, Six was only partially clothed, in some bra-type, cropped shirt thing that only complimented the natural shapely curve of her body, her stomach was left bare, showcasing the smoothness of her skin, making it clear to him again why he’d spent so many hours daydreaming about laying his head upon her for a nap, her plush lap or stomach immeasurably preferable to the curb he usually called his pillow. Her skirt left even less to the imagination, especially from his angle looking up from the floor. Though, no matter what the angle was, the garment was made up of hardly any fabric at all, showcasing Six’s thighs and hips alike, both of which were frequent attendees in his daydreams as well. 

Rotface almost openly sighed as he saw her. Though it was nearly a nightly ritual these days, she still managed to draw his street-sharp mind into a tight bundle of fanciful nonsense. 

“Nice to see ya, Six.” Rotface managed to rasp out finally, pulling his gaze reluctantly from where it was tied to her form, her face, those eyes.

Suppose it doesn’t matter if I’m actually lookin’ or not. Always see her anyhow. Remember her face better than I do my own these days.

And that ain’t no bad thing. 

“Whatcha got there? Something to share, I hope.” 

“Nah, wouldn’t dream of it. Already had my fill, rest is for you, dolly.” 

“O-ho, what a gentleman you are.” Her smile shot straight into him, like a searing beam of light, right through his chest as she reached down for the bottle in his hand. No flinching away, no mildly disgusted look, no light, hesitant fingers as she brushed her hand with his in the transfer of the bottle from his possession to hers. 

“Wish I could take a seat beside you, but… Yeah, gotta stay visible.” She winked at him as she said it, but tipped the bottle back for a long swig a moment later, without even bothering to glance at the label. 

Didn’t seem to matter to her either. 

“It is still your corner though.” Six wiped delicately at her lipstick-framed mouth as she lowered the bottle down. “No matter who stands at it, they still know it as yours. So, if I’m ever intruding–”

“No way, doll.” He said, almost too quickly. “What’s yours is mine.” 

Rotface gestured to the bottle then, a soft expression adorning his face as he looked up at her. 

God, it must be obvious. Way I ogle her, night in and out. Maybe the drink wasn’t the best thought I’ve had… me a lil tipsy, her on her way… Could say something I regret. 

And she could actually hear it now. Not like my daydreams.

“You know, this street corner ain’t the only thing we got in common, I think.” 

Six raised a brow at him questioningly, but nodded a moment later with an odd sort of look upon her face. Another swig of the bottle, and then: 

“Hm. You’re right. Must be… Our fashion sense?” 

His laugh was much too raucous for the little quip she made, but dammit, the ghoul couldn’t help himself. 

Here I am, trying for once to be genuine, and then… 

Oh, but how could he ever be mad?

“Well, you do know how much I enjoy lounging on my curb here in the nude. Or in my leather panties. Heh.” 

Six giggled herself this time, and he felt proud to have inspired such a lovely refrain. 

“Nah, but, in all seriousness, I think… Well, we’re both one of the real people out here, you know? The ones out here trying to survive, yeah, but you’re not an asshole.” 

“Gee, thanks.”

He could’ve slapped himself for ending that sentence prematurely… and with no obvious tracks for it to go down in the highway of his drink-addled mind. 

Trying to speak from your heart is like engaging in an interview while under fire. Hearing the questions, formulating answers, wording them, all while remaining breathless and panicked. Scared for your life, even. 

“No, no... sorry, buzz is gettin’ to me a bit. But you’re just– hell, maybe we don’t even have it in common, I don’t know, but you’re one hell of a person, is what I was getting at. In some fuck-all roundabout way." He rubbed the bridge of his would-be nose, grinding his teeth as his confession only seemed to worsen.

"Just... Six, you doing all that shit for the NCR, for Freeside, The Wrangler, and all those ungrateful, privileged asshats in the strip, and look at you, still out here working street corners for scraps. You should have a fucking penthouse by now, you know? Be one of them fancy ladies with the jewelry and the colorful skirts and dresses. ‘S what you deserve, Six, that’s all.” 

“Glad you feel that way.” Finally relenting to the call of it, Six plopped down beside him, and Rotface felt his heart stutter as her hand brushed his bicep, giving him an affectionate little squeeze as she turned to him. “Nobody else seems to care, so you know… I suppose I’ll just keep... doing it, since I can’t sit by like the rest of those, ahem, asshats, as you put it so nicely.” 

He broke into a laugh alongside her, feeding off the warmth of her smile and wishing like hell he could see it a thousand more times in his life. 

“I couldn’t live with myself if I saw everything that’s going on around here and… didn’t help.” 

Six handed him back the bottle, nearly empty as it was, but with one last, decent gulp left. With a slow hand, careful not to dislodge the one she still had placed upon his arm, he reached out for it. 

“And… I guess I’ll just keep doing this,” Six gestured down to her scant outfit with unenthused fingers, “Until I can afford not to. However long that takes.” 

A pessimistic scoff finished her sentence for her, and Rotface felt his hand gripping the neck of the alcohol bottle so hard it might shatter. And he wouldn’t blame it. If it were possible for him to do the same in this moment, he just might've. 

Even as Rotface's grip loosened on the glass, his jaw stayed tightly clenched. He… had no idea she was that desperate. Some part of him assumed this was-- well, a job, yes-- but maybe she’d enjoyed it? Six always seemed so free, so good-humored, even in the worst of times, even when she showed up on their street corner with bags under her eyes, with bruises and scrapes he wouldn’t let himself imagine the origin of; she still was happy to see him, still made fun and light of their horrid, ruined world right alongside him… Maybe that’s what they really had in common. 

Now that he knew though, now that her dejected voice, her listless mannerisms, the dullness in her eyes confirmed that she hated doing this shit more than he could’ve imagined, more than he hated baking in the sun waiting for a more successful, luckier man’s pocket change to fall into his roughened hands day-in and day-out for ten or so odd years, well... He couldn't just stand by anymore. Not like he has for so damn long. With all she's done in that time, even after being fucking shot? It made Rotface feel like a pretty awful person.

To think too, after all that, all his years of this shit, and how little he's collected in his time on the street corner... 

Another shitty thing we have in common, I guess. If the world decides not to change, we’ll both be doing this forever. 

“Well…” Rotface started a thought out loud, his fingers already twiddling nervously at his imagined proposal. “You know, I-I could start paying you.” 

He felt her body tense, felt her eyes on him, but he couldn’t dare meet her gaze. 

“J-just for this, you know.” He added quickly, “The pleasure of your company here on the corner. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t improve my evenings, having you here with me. But, since I’m taking up your time and all…” 

“I could never accept money from you, R.” 

He smiled at that, her tender voice, her sweet nickname for him. 

“You want to know something?" She continued, her fingers twiddling distractedly over the skin of his arm. "I could stand on any street corner in Freeside. In fact, between you and me, this one really isn’t the best for business, but… Well, I enjoy the pleasure of your company too. And I couldn’t dream of asking you to pay for it.” 

Another comforting squeeze radiated warmth from her grip over him, and Rotface finally gained the courage to set his eyes upon her face.

“No..." A soft, slight smile touched her vibrant lips as she looked right back at him, "We’re in this together, old friend.” 

“If you say so." Rotface's own rough hand, pausing only briefly on its brave journey, now laid overtop hers, giving Six a comforting little embrace of his own. "But... If that’s the case, then… Say I did pay you for a night. A night we don't spend on this street corner, lovely as it is. A-and not anything, ah, promiscuous," He added quickly, "Just… you know. A night. Do dinner or something.” 

“Dinner?” Her brow quirked up on her forehead and her eyes narrowed with mischief. 

She must be onto me. No doubt she is… 

But she keeps playing along. So, that’s gotta be a good sign, right?

“Well, we just shared a nice drink, some good conversation… You wanna just skip dinner?” 

He was wide-eyed at what she suggested, what he thought she might be suggesting.

Could it be?

Nah... Too good to be true, that's what that is. Shit doesn't work out for me that way, not Rotface the poor street-corner ghoul. Not with Six. No way.

And yet, in that moment, her hand turned quickly, taking his in her grasp, and before he could fathom any single bit of it, she hauled him up and the pair set off quickly towards The Wrangler. He was comically giddy the whole way there, all teeth-baring grins and school-child giggles as she tugged him along behind her. 

He didn't understand, but even more so, Rotface couldn't bare to question it.

Sure, the pair got some inquisitive looks on the way and in the bar, both of them well-known in this part of town, after all. The piss-poor ghoul beggar and the Wrangler prostitute who was a sucker for doing the right thing, the kind thing, getting a room together?

The looks all confirmed what he tried not to let himself believe. 

Even if it is pity she has for me… who am I to complain? To judge her? 

Nah, he couldn’t think one wrong thing about the gal beside him, in front of him now in the dim room, leaving even less to the imagination, as she let her skirt flit down to the carpeted motel room floor. 

Six stepped out of the garment like she was trying to seduce him. As if she hadn’t already, from the moment he laid eyes on her. 

“You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve seen." His rough voice sounded in the dim of the room as his eyes stayed locked to her mesmerizing form, "All my years, dolly, and it’s not even a competition.” 

Rotface couldn’t tear his gaze away from her, not for anything, as she approached where he sat on the creaky, ages-old box spring. The bed dipped from her movements as she crawled up and between his legs, running her hands down over the smooth fabric of his worn shirt until they reached the bottom hem. 

His own hands, rough as they were, gently stopped her movement. 

“Not sure you wanna do that, doll. Might just ruin the moment.” 

Six shook her head, her brows drawn together in sympathy as one soft hand brushed over the side of his face. Her touch was so tender, her expression so kind, yet… so wanting. It made his heart throb and race all at once. 

“It won’t.” Her voice was the firmest he’d heard it. “R… I want this bad as you do. Honest.” 

He blinked, and in the smallest split of seconds, Six's lips were against his. Like an old reel of film, his mind raced and churned behind the scenes, the chaos behind the beautiful picture up on the screen.

She was loud as a symphony, vibrant as a painting, with her passions. A pessimistic part of him whispered that it was practice, it was work, but a louder part shouted, ‘this is happening!’ 

Because that’s what mattered. 

Six was here, with him. She said she wanted this, she followed it up with actions that had him in a frenzy, that had him questioning his sanity, and the life expectancy of ghouls once they go feral. 

His mind scrambled like this, the heat coursing through him, the kiss felt like it was sending him into a metamorphosis. 

Rotface wanted so badly to think, to respond, to ask a million questions and make a million remarks about his many faults to her. As much as he wanted this– more than anything he could remember pleading for in his life, and just… well, look at him, he had plenty he could've wished for in place of this, and yet, it was true. More than anything, he wanted this with her. And he was as afraid of it as he was enthused by it. 

None of that mattered though. Nothing did, but Six. 

Rotface ran his hands over her bare skin, hungry to feel every inch of her, to soothe every hint of pain, every cause of stress in her life, his lips pressed against hers, caressing her softness, like the sun hugs the mountaintops and bathes them in orange, pink and violet. 

It only became more explosive, as he felt himself sink back into the mattress, as she laid her body over his, and he finally allowed her fingers to haul his raggedy t-shirt off over his head. Rotface gazed up at her as they separated, so she could remove the shirt from him fully, feeling like he was trapped in one of his daydreams, only… this was so much sweeter. 

Even in the depths of his imagination, the ghoul never could have seen her like this. Looking at him this way. It was… utterly unimaginable, the affection he saw there. The attraction. 

Perhaps her eyesight is just poor, after the incident in the graveyard at point blank range. 

The sound of a zipper drew his eyes and thoughts downwards as she began to remove his battered jeans, pulling them off over his hips and taking his boxers with them in one movement. 

Rotface grunted as the hem of his pants caught on his erection, already straining up in the air from her words, the sight of her, her attentions. 

Just… Six. 

The liquor had worn off by now, and he could feel himself shaking slightly. Maybe from nerves, or anticipation, though… probably both. If Six noticed though, she didn’t say a word about it. 

“Hmm.” When his eyes snapped back up to her, watching her take in the sight of his gnarled flesh, his bony body, he expected any number of horrid, barely-held back reactions. 

But she just… Smiled. With tears in her eyes, her gaze met his. 

“I don’t know why you ghouls are so cruel to yourselves. You in particular.” She said as she began to crawl up his body, a hand on either side of him, hovering, until she could lay over him. Her breasts prodded his chest as she settled overtop of him, her stomach cushioning his sensitive erection lovingly between their bodies. “You’re no different than any other man.” 

“Gee, thanks.” He said with a breathless attempt at a laugh. 

“No,” Six giggled, letting her head hang for a moment, her hair curtaining her face so charmingly as her eyes crinkled. “I just mean… You’ve got scars, sure, but… we all do.” 

One hand grasped with his, and Six pressed his fingers to the concealed divots in her forehead. He swallowed hard, as he felt the depth of them. 

How lucky I am to be here… With her.

“It doesn’t make you worth any less. No matter what anyone says.” Six pulled his hand to her mouth then, one finger drawing a line over a particularly rigid scar on his wrist before her lips followed suit softly. 

“Doesn’t make you any less beautiful.” 

Rotface had to blink to keep the unwelcome mist at bay from seeping into his eyes. 

What did I do to deserve her? This? 

Just last night we were still only friends, something like this was a distant, unachievable dream. 

Now, he never wanted it to end. 

“Well, doll, you are the authority on all that’s beautiful.” 

“Sweet ghoul.” Six's fingers ran over his bald head in an affectionate caress, and then his lips were back on her. Rotface initiated this time, pushing into her and wrapping his arms tightly around her body until he could flip them on the bed, positioning himself on top. 

His cock twitched as her hips bucked up into him, the swell of her pelvic bone grinding against the underside of his cockhead until he felt himself drooling pre-cum out onto her skin. 

Damn, but she knows what she’s doing. 

“Fuck, alright–” Rotface pulled back from her lips, separating their bodies enough to alleviate the pressure on his erection. “I’ve gotta taste you, doll. That alright?” 

Enthusiastically, and with a bit of surprise written on her face, Six nodded, and he felt that giddiness encapsulate him again. The older ghoul felt like a boy on pre-war Christmas, pulling her legs undone like a bow until her thighs were draped over his rough shoulders. His sense of smell and taste both weren’t what they used to be, but even so, his mouth watered at the sight of her folds; dark and glistening, maybe just with his pre-cum where he'd rubbed on her briefly, but he’d like to think some of it was her own excitement as well. 

As Rotface took his first languid lick, right through the middle of her lower lips and up to drag over her clit, it was confirmed. She wasn’t just glistening a bit, Six was wet. 

For me? Damn, maybe she really is telling the truth about her feelings… 

Grinning, and with a hint of an uncharacteristically smug expression upon his ruined face, Rotface set to work on her.

One hand laid over Six's lower stomach, and his thumb pressed to that sensitive button that made her shudder in slow, teasing circles as he delighted in the sweetness within her folds. He may have been shy about confessing his wants to her, his own feelings, but his tongue showed no such coyness as it explored her so thoroughly. 

Once that first taste hit his welcoming tastebuds, Rotface began lapping at her feverishly, like a starving wasteland dog, until he could hear her breathy moans escaping audibly from above. Chancing a glance, the ghoul hauled his eyes open to take in her expression, and felt himself give an involuntary buck of his hips against the rough-hewn sheet upon the mattress below him at the sight that welcomed him. 

I made her look like that.

He marveled silently, feasting with his eyes as much as he was with his wanton mouth as he poured his attentions out onto her. Six's brows were drawn together from his efforts, her lips half-parted, her lipstick smeared messily against one cheek, her hair like a woven crown, all in tangles around her head. No detail of hers failed to captivate him, even as Rotface continued his hungry mouthing, his thumb’s circling over her clit, growing firmer and faster, just as his hips moved more frantically over the mattress, grinding his cock into the sheets like he was already inside her. 

Six’s eyelashes fluttered, as she took in his humble visage in turn, and his heart soared to see the way she smiled. 

“Didn’t know you had this in you, R.” She spoke, breathless, her voice damn near rough as his own. 

He only growled in response, tearing his eyes from her face to look down upon his labors. Her clit was standing tall against his movement over it, and her lips were becoming darker, more swollen, more slippery. His tongue glided easily around her folds, navigating them as masterfully as he did the streets of Freeside, and pressed periodically up to that sensitive button, giving it teasing licks and kisses that left her writhing beneath the pressure of his arms. 

“Think I’m wet enough for you now, R.” 

Rotface felt a pat upon his head as her voice reached down to where he was buried between her legs, but he didn’t budge. A groan acted as his rebuttal as his attentions hastened. His actions were better than explanatory words anyway. 

“Fuck, okay.” Six giggled out, and her sheer arousal was plain in the way the words left her. A moan trailed shortly after, as Rotface set his rough lips against her clit, and sucked like honey would pour from the spot. And well, it really sort of would, wouldn’t it?

Though, there was one difference. 

Six was much sweeter. 

The ghoul’s eyes rolled back in his head, his grip on her thigh and stomach tightened, he felt his cock give a painful throb from where he was neglecting it, and his hips picked up their pace into the mattress. 

In that moment, he was completely surrounded by her. 

Her moans and breaths were all that entered his ears, her smooth skin all he felt, her musky, succulent juices all he could taste, the colors of her passion, all he could see behind his closed eyelids. In that moment, she was his whole world. 

And what a glorious world it is. 

Six was close now, so close he could feel the way her clit pulsed against his tongue. He smiled into her at the feeling, lowering one hand between her thighs as his lips stayed anchored to her sensitive, swollen nub. Rough, calloused fingers dragged through her plentiful wetness, before two of them tested her entrance, finding it pliant and wanting for him. For this. 

The digits plunged inside without any additional warning, instantly curling against her hot, tender walls and making her release a shout of pleasure that had his throbbing member ready to burst at the seams. 

A few well-placed rubs of his textured fingers against her clenching walls, and one last drag of his tongue over her swollen pleasure point, and Six was crying out her nickname for him into the still, stuffy air of the motel room. Rotface didn’t cease though, his fingers pulsed inside her gently, coaxing her orgasm to last as long as possible, helping her through it as he drank in her spilling essence with his whole mouth. 

Rotface found himself growing almost as loud as she was, with his sloppy groans and the great buildup of pressure in his aching, straining cock, until that too burst out without much warning. The ghoul spurted his seed into the sheets below, humping into the mattress needily as he continued to nurse on her clit, even as Six began to buck away from him in her oversensitivity. 

Finally, with a light push of her hand over his forehead, Rotface tore himself from her. His chin and hollow nose were dripping with her as he caught his breath, he could feel his thighs shaking from the force of his own release, which was still sending small aftershocks through his fatigued body as his cock leaked the last of what it had to offer onto the bed between Six’s legs. And Six... at that moment, she–

--

“R?” A loud snap sounded in his ears, and suddenly, tragically, Rotface was seated back on his curb, his mind swimming and his body aching as his thoughts raced circles around his mind. “Honey, are you okay? You were tryin’ to say something.”

“I– I was?”

“Yeah, you were gonna tell me what else we had in common? Besides fashion sense and this curb, and then you just… went all radio silence on me. You feelin’ alright?” 

Six’s hand pressed down to his forehead, and her touch sent a shock through him. 

Fuck… Another goddamn daydream. And… so real.

Stupid fucking drink. 

He glared at the bottle in Six’s hand as she sat down next to him. 

“You do feel a little warm. You wanna just take it easy tonight? I don’t have to take clients, maybe we could… I don’t know.” She laughed as she trailed off, and Rotface felt his heart renew its frantic pounding once again. 

With one sentence, one confession, one request, I could maybe, maybe, make that dream of mine a reality. 

Rotface took a breath as he felt her eyes on him, trying not to pay her gaze too much mind, as he began his confession. 

For real, this time. 

[callsignbaphomet]

@apothecaryforwearysouls

You know what? Yeah, I like that idea so let's go! Since Jela's been through 3, NV and 4 I'm just gonna mention all since technically he lived through it all. Sort of.

Fallout 3:

Kay, so the exposure to many factions is super limited 'cause during this time he was just a little kid and a very sheltered one at that. Most of his time was spent with Loke who pretty much taught him what Sanaa and Ingvarr taught Loke. Also Loke was super paranoid during this time so he didn't really let him out of his sight for long periods of time. So like I said, his exposure to most factions here is limited to hearsay and rumors.

The Family - he thinks they're weird. Not much else to say.

Enclave - all he knows about the Enclave is that his mom was part of this group and she ran away from it. He miiiiiiight have family within the Enclave though he doubts any of them survived.

Brotherhood of Steel - knows what everyone else knows and even goes so far as to think of them as like super heroes like the ones in comic books. He heard of Lyons and how a vault dweller had joined them to help a group of people clean the water so everyone could have clean drinking. He was honestly in awe of them. At some point he wanted to join when he was old enough.

Brotherhood Outcasts - he wasn't aware that was a thing. We're gonna dig deeper into this later.

Paradise Falls/Slavers - they make his skin crawl. Obviously he never interacted with any of them but he heard stories of them and what they do and obviously Loke taught him to be vigilant. He absolutely hates slavers, it's right up there with people who hate ghouls.

Abolitionists - obviously has heard of them and wondered why more people didn't lend a hand. Even at 18 he hopes they made it to somewhere safe or at the very least people started to help them.

Big town - town run by and occupied by older kids? He really wanted to visit the place. To be honest, the tales he heard were far more fantastical than the reality of it.

Little Lamplight - equally as fascinated by them as he was with Big Town though he didn't know as much.

Regulators - from what he and the other kids heard from Lucas Simms (I'm aware Simms doesn't talk about them ingame, it's just a headcanon) they sounded like a pretty neat group. He didn't really wanna join but he found them interesting nonetheless.

Littlehorn & Associates - saw it as a stuck up and snobby knockoff of the Talon Company.

Reilly's Rangers - oh, he definitely heard of them and he definitely wanted to join 'em. Getting to explore the Wasteland and get up to all sorts of adventures and trouble? Yeah, sign him the fuck up!

Talon Company - they're mercs. He didn't feel any which way about 'em.

Republic of Dave - who the fuck is Dave?

Tenpenny - he heard about Tenpenny from travelers and people talking about trying to get into the tower. His opinion on the old bastard? He thinks he's a fucking fitte.

Underworld - he actually wanted to visit IF the residents were okay with it. He likes ghouls, he and his friends would visit Gob frequently and would keep him company.

Three Dog - not a faction but still has an opinion on him. He thinks the dude's a clown. Like, yeah, he's sitting pretty in his station, guarded by BoS, talking about the "good fight" (he didn't know what that meant as a kid, hell, Loke doesn't really get it either) but not actually helping or doing anything really. He doesn't like him at all.

Children of Atom - they creep him out. He tends to stay clear of them. He wasn't raised under any type of religious beliefs.

New Vegas:

Around this time he's a teenager and to be honest he loved NV better than Capital Wasteland.

NCR - see, he's conflicted. On the one hand his bio dad was NCR at some point and what little Ingvarr told Loke about it he then told Jelani and he thought it was neat but felt there was just too much politics stringing the group. His opinion changed when the incident with Iain happened and he realized why his bio dad left the group in the first place. NCR ranger outfits were awesome and he wanted to get his hands on one and he did.

Caesar's Legion - a bunch of filthy fucking slavers and every single one he saw he made sure to put a .50 in their skulls. As far as he's concerned they should all be wiped off the face of the planet.

Robert House - he's only heard rumors of House. Which ones were true and which weren't was hard to say. He kinda likes that there's this mythological person running The Strip from behind the scenes.

Yes Man - ((he isn't the courier so there wouldn't be any logical way or reason for him to know who Yes Man is so we're skipping this one.))

Boomers - like others he thought they were hiding something. Why would you go to so much trouble and be so adamant on blowing up everyone that approached the base if you didn't have anything to hide? Part of him was curious to see if he could make it past the bombs. Some of his friends would often hype themselves up and dare each other to see if anyone could make it across without blowing themselves up. Loke forbade him from partaking in such a ridiculously and dangerois dare.

Brotherhood of Steel - still felt the same about them as he did back in DC. He never interacted with anyone from the BoS but he heard that a small number of them were hiding out in New Vegas somewhere.

Followers of the Apocalypse - if it weren't for the FotA he would've died from that flu and sinus infection he got. But if he hadn't gotten sick Loke would've never gone to them for help and he never would've met Uthorim. For those two reasons he adores the Followers. Also he thought that they were some of the few people that actually did something to make life in the Wasteland better for everyone else. He often felt that many people and factions just talk about making changes but none do and seldom do they do anything to help others.

Great Khans - he's really fond of the Khans mostly because his first boyfriend was actually a Khan himself. He and AJ (Alejandro Javier) instantly got along and formed a tight friendship which escalated to a relationship rather quickly. AJ, some other Khans around their age and some other teenagers from Freeside formed a bit of a group which was mostly led by Jela and AJ. With Jela's training a few of the adult Khans got him, AJ and some of the more bolder Freeside teens of the group to accompany them as hired guns to make deliveries. However, when Papa Khan entertained the idea of siding with Caesar Jelani remained distant. Thankfully some curier that had gotten shot talked Papa Khan out of siding with the slavers and took great joy in learning that the slavers visiting them were killed. Jela then started to hang around them again. When the slavers were hanging around AJ was gonna leave along with some of their other friends. Thankfully it didn't come to that.

Chairmen - no real opinion, he just thinks they talk weird.

White Glove Society - they creep him the fuck out. When news broke out that they were cannibals he was even more creeped out.

Omerta - he doesn't care about 'em at all. The male strippers at Gomorrah though? Yeah, those he and his friends enjoyed. Usually they wouldn't be allowed in but a few bribes every so often meant they paid Gomorrah a visit from time to time.

Jacobstown - he's never actually been there but he heard of it and thinks it's great that non-hostile super mutants can have a safe place to call home.

Powder Gangers - raiders but with explosives and disorganized as hell. Has a bet going with his friends on how long it'll take 'em to blow themselves up.

Freeside - he and his dad live there and they actually get along with everyone in there. Sorta feels like both fit right in and some of the teenagers from there made up part of his group of friends. Much more fun then where they lived in DC for sure.

Kings - eh...he doesn't care but finds the way they talk annoying.

Gun Runners - (not a faction but I'm gonna count it as one) every time he and Loke go there to buy ammo, parts or weapons he acts like a kid in a candy/toy store. He fucking loves the Gun Runners.

The Think Tank - he's heard rumors from all sorts of people. Has no idea who to believe or who is telling the truth. Always wanted to check it out for himself but Loke thought it was too dangerous.

Fallout 4:

Here a lot of his views and opinions on factions are harsher due to his situation. He's bitter, depressed, suicidal and very fucking angry so depending on things is how he'll view each faction.

The Institute - he's 81% sure people in Boston made that shit up. If it turns out it's real he'd hate the fuck out of them. All that technology to make life better in the Wasteland and they do nothing with it.

The Railroad - oh boy, where to begin...on the one hand he feels like they're doing something great by helping synths escape and find a new life. Feels some type of way about the way the group conducts and organizes themselves. He's sure it's only a matter of time before the entire thing collapses.

Minutemen - it's great that people are finally standing up for themselves and not letting raiders run them over. But goddamn do they need a fuck ton of help in every front. He doesn't care enough to do it though. Thinks Garvey's hot but a bit of a naive fool.

Brotherhood of Steel - after he found out that Lyon's group is an odd offshoot of what the BoS really is he was pissed the fuck off. How dare they go around the Commonwealth and everywhere else taking technology from other people and refusing to help anyone? To him they're nothing more than glorified raiders with better gear. Everywhere they go they leave things worse than they were before they got there. When the Prydwen docked and they spread he found out they were going to different farms basically demanding they hand over a portion of their crops to the BoS for nothing in return. One of these farms was the Abernathy farm and due to some history ge felt some type of way and armed the family so they could defend themselves and their lively hood. After the Institute was blown up and the Railroad and Minutemen joined forces to defeat the BoS he made it a hobby to pick off survivors for sport.

Gunners - lemme be an edgelord here for a second and just say that he enjoys the fuck out of fighting them. Jelani is far better trained and loves when a job tasks him with fighting Gunners juet to keep him sharp 'cause let's be honest super mutants barely make him sweat and raiders are a joke. Excellent source of sniping and counter-sniping practice.

Atom Cats - hates the way they talk but has a deep respect for what they do. He thinks more people should look into power armor.

Triggermen - the only reason why he tolerates them is because he gets a large amount of his med-x from them. He gets a discount from one of them due to helping them with a problem.

Children of Atom - when I say he hates these freaks I mean it with my entire chest. Whenever he sees one he sees red and most often than not it's kill on sight. At the very least the ones in DC weren't hostile, these fuckers are shoot first and then shoot again. Not to mention their entire deal is recruiting people to their cult and at times by force. Jelani was actually hired by a woman to find her younger sister who he found dead wearing CoA clothes. Apparently she and her sister fought and she ran off to join the CoA, however, too much exposure to radiation killed her. When he broke the news to the woman she blamed herself for her sister's death which hit very close to home because it felt similar to his situation. He told her to keep her caps and went on a three day bender mixing every kind of alcohol (except for whiskey) and various drugs which resulted in him stabbing himself on his right thigh after cutting up his arms all in an effort to feel something again.

Then there's the whole religious aspect of their cult. Jela's a very stern athiest and is repulsed by the idea of religion or spirituality especially so when he got to Boston.

Hubologists - so long as they don't come near him he's neutral to them. If they come near him trying to talk to him about their belif system he shuts that shit down and he's gonna be an asshole about it.

Rust Devils - he gives 'em points for being creative and different but they're still a bunch of punk ass raiders.

Goodneighbor - he always was a fan of that carefree air the place always had. They're okay in his book.

The Pack - as an animal lover he enjoys the fact that these guys always seem to have animals around. Dagny and Ayo got their attention a lot and he liked that they were always giving them toys and treats and playing with them. He's especially fond of this gang mostly because Angelus belongs(ed) to this gang and when he got ambushed by a group of raiders and they put Dagny in a bag and tossed her into the water Angelus rescued her and helped him. When Nuka World was under attack and he and Radek's gang trained the gangs The Pack showed a lot of potential in shock and awe tactics. They're always fun to hang around with.

The Operators - never in his life could he imagine that a gang of raiders could be organized, goal oriented and so well put together. When he first met up with Mags and her brother they talked for a very long time. They honestly impressed him and he outright told them so. When they were training The Operators they showed excellency in stealth and coordination that paired nicely with The Pack's strengths.

The Disciples - from day one Jelani and Nisha did NOT get along. When Jelani came to Nuka World with Angelus the literal shit had hit the fan. Gage's plan had backfired when the person they'd relied on after they killed Colter turned on Nuka World and killed a lot of them and had escaped with the slaves. Gage had run away and a civil war had broken out now that they were leaderless and unorganized with hundreds dead. Nisha's group wanted blood and she wanted to lead but the thing is Jelani didn't think she'd be a good fit for anything much less lead. He saw the Disciples are unpredictable and hard to steer so he didn't give a fuck when Nisha pulled that stunt with the power plant. I'd be lying if I didn't say that Jela having one of her assassins working undercover for him and then watching her face contort in anger and shock right before her supposed fellow Disciple blew her brains didn't bring him a sick sense of amusement.

The Syndicate (made up gang, descendants of members of MI6 and SAS, think Enclave but British) - a gang made up of very well trained, very disciplined, like minded individuals armed to the teeth? Sign him the fuck up. He'd be lying if he didn't enjoy the perks of being able to take several of their weapons and used their equipment. Teaming up with them to train the Nuka World raiders was a fun experience and he'll gladly pit any Gunner against his raiders and win any day. Effectively he made them even more dangerous. He does feel weird interacting with Radek (one of the founders of The Syndicate) due to their first meeting being what it was. Radek's okay with it and had even shown concern for Jelani's wellbeing but Jela feels a bit shitty about it. This is his favorite gang tbh.

Nuka World (overall) - as it stands now that he cleaned up the place, trained a bunch of raiders and took over the park he's okay with them. He's aware that they think of him as the overboss given the fact that he stepped up and did what no one else could or wanted to do but he doesn't want that. First of all he's not a raider and it makes zero sense for some 18-year-old kid to be leading a bunch of gangs. On top of that he thinks one lone leader is a very bad idea. What no one, except for Angelus, knows is that he did things in a way to manipulate the situation.

At that point in time he doesn't give a shit about anyone. The entire world could burn up in nuclear fire again and he'd be okay with it. But he's still not a fucking piece of shit. He knows that before shit got messed up they had plans to basically take over the Commonwealth. That meant many people dying and it could've involved people like Ginger and Abigail or the Abernathys so he wanted to prevent that. He managed to convince them that other counties vloser to Nuka World were better for the taking. As he trained them in better tactics and handling weapons he also trained them to be self-sufficient to avoid relying on captured slaves. He twisted it so they'd think he was doing it under the guise of "they rebelled once, they can do it again" because telling them keeping slaves is a shit ass thing to do wouldn't fly over them so he manipulated the situation.

He also has a contingency plan in place in case he ever leaves Boston and the gangs get antsy and decide to go for the Commonwealth. As long as he's in Boston he can control their interests but if he ever leaves there's no one to stop them from doing whatever they want. Jelani had a private meeting with Preston Garvey, the Minutemen general and Ronnie Shaw where he admited that he was "running" Nuka World though he kept his reasons as to why to himself. He gave Preston documents and a holotape containing passwords, maps, routes, entrances to secret tunnels, and information of all gangs in and around Nuka World. When clearing Kiddie Kingdom Jelani reverse engineered the sprayers and hid plenty of them throughout Nuka Town and programmed them via a computer he had hidden in the Nuka Station. The sprayers were hooked up to the same chemicals Oswald used. Because he trained the raiders himself he knew their strengths and weaknesses and knew how to exploit them. He specified patrol times and numbers and the location of detonators. He hid bombs in every single park.

Garvey was obviously confused and distrustful but Jela told him that if the NW raiders ever tried shit in the Commonwealth he should talk to Ginger and Abigail and they'd vouche for him. But he warned him that if Garvey and his people were to attack Nuka World unprovoked Jelani would kill him, the general and Ronnie Shaw himself.

What about Angelus and The Syndicate? Angelus is only loyal to Jelani. He drank the kool-Aid and asked for seconds. So if Jelani ever leaves he's leaving with his boyfriend. Radek and Bourne aren't what you'd call raiders, they're just in it for the fun of it and they're nomadic. At any minute they can and will uproot and leave to another location. They have no royalties to Nuka World.

FMS Northern Star - Jelani says that if it wasn't for Dagny he never would've befreinded the raiders that live on that ship much less formed such a strong friendship with Varg Olsen. While out on a job the guy that Jelani was hunting down tried to hide in the ship but unbeknownst to him it was occupied by ghouls. They killed him but Jelani still had to bring back evidence or else he wouldn't be paid. So he snuck in and tried to grab something off the body while he ordered Dagny to flank them. Thing is Jelani trained Dagny to follow orders in Norwegian (thought behind that was that no one could understand what he was saying so it made it easier to confuse targets). When he yelled out the order the raiders stopped shooting and asked Jelani what he said. Both parties ceased fire and soon found that they understood each other and just talked it out. From there on out he befriended the ghouls and from there on out Varg became his most trusted friend in Boston. It was thanks to Varg that Jelani got some more information on his bio dad's lineage. Varg was also a key figure in finding information for Jelani as the ghoul had been the only one that would explore the Commonwealth and was even able to speak English if a bit broken.

[evilvarric666-archive]

Mmmm okay, fallout ocs time :) short version to get everyone caught up

Beauregard is the Lone Wanderer. Strength/Agility/Endurance build, with Repair as a tagged skill. Started stealing stuff as a kid just to feel something, got in big trouble a couple times before he managed to get better at hiding it, finally broke the habit as a teen only to return to it during those hard first couple of months in the wasteland. Real swell guy otherwise though! Very nice. Tall. Likes to be useful. He's super close friends with Gob & Nova because they helped him out a lot when he was still new and getting his bearings. Got real sick after activating the purifier in the endgame and just kind of, never recovered. No one's really sure exactly what's wrong with him though. He might be dying? Or just going ghoul. Or some brand new secret third thing. Hard to say.

Isabelle is a former Brotherhood scribe. Intelligence/Perception/Agility build. Her and Beau first met while she was assigned to the Arlington Library with Scribe Yearling's team. Really passionate about computers and archival science, she loved that assignment and was genuinely depressed when it was over. Her best friend, Paul, another scribe, dies tragically sometime after the events of the main game, and the circumstances surrounding his death (spoilers) lead her to become extremely disillusioned with the Brotherhood. She goes on what is initially supposed to be a temporary leave to get her head together (the grief really fucks with her and her work starts suffering), and because she doesn't really know anyone outside of the Brotherhood she goes to Megaton to crash with Beau, and then she just, never really leaves.

Alice is the Sole Survivor. Luck/Charisma build. Alice is not her real name, and neither was Nora. She's a career conwoman and lowlife scam artist, she met Nate during a brief stint on a bank heist. Living in Sanctuary Hills was initially just them laying low for a little after a job with some fresh new false identities, but after she got pregnant he talked her into just outright retiring. He was manipulative and mean and their marriage was awful, she was actively planning on bolting in the night and starting over on the west coast when the bombs dropped. She gives up on finding Shaun after Kellogg's death, and ends up abandoning the main plot for nearly two years before working with the Railroad inevitably drags her back into it. Deep down she's not nearly as remorseless, selfish, or cynical as she pretends to be, and her whole arc is basically just her getting dragged into becoming a better person and being mad about it the whole fucking time.

[doofnoof]

if you get this, answer with 3 random facts about yourself and send it to the last 7 blogs in your notifications, anonymously or not! Let's get to know the person behind the blog

Ough okay!!!!

Uhhh

1) I have a birthmark on the back of my right leg, it's lighter than everywhere else

2) I'm allergic to apricots!!! Apricot marmalade (or whatever it is. It's like a jam with many orange fruits in it but it's mostly Apricot and Oranges and I eat oranges all the time. Apricots are the only fruit included in the marmalade/jam that I don't eat much of) makes my throat and mouth itchy, which is too bad bc I think it's Delicious. At least I'm still good to eat peaches and nectarines!!! But not Apricots, weirdly enough. My aunt is allergic to peaches, so it Tracks.

3) I LOVE ZOMBIES SOOOOO MUCH!!!!!!! The very first horror movie I ever saw was Resident Evil, and I blame it for my current love of zombies to this day. The way my mom has always recalled it to me, I was 4 years old and had seen my parents set up the PS4 to watch movies a few times and decided to try it out myself, and Resident Evil was in the PlayStation from the night before (the adults must've been watching it while I was sleeping) and I sat down and watched it, and then watched it again and again afterwards because I thought Alice was the coolest (most beautiful) woman I'd ever seen, and the Zombies were all super cool too. I was especially fond of the Lickers (the things with the long tongues) and I used to imagine taking one for walkies and scratching it's brain-head-thing like it was a dog. When I was eventually caught my mom was Very Upset but impressed that I'd figured it out all on my own and that I had it all figured out for like a week without anyone noticing, but the very first time I had a zombie themed nightmare Resident Evil was put on the High Up Adult Shelf never to be seen again until I hit double digits. Funny enough, a little while later I was watching my dad play Fallout 3 and when he walked into a bar and started talking to a Zombie Bartender I decided he was the most handsome man I'd ever seen and became Smitten with him. Come to find out, he was a Ghoul (not actually a Zombie) named Gob and he's still one of my most cherished favorite characters of all time. On top of that, when I was like 10 I could quote all of Zombieland word for word, for each and every character, and without even looking up from what I was doing list which zombies were in a scene. My Uncle found it kinda creepy the first time he saw me do it until eventually it became a game to see how long I could quote perfectly without messing up. I was entirely normal and not at all weird or obsessed with Warm Bodies (which absolutely didn't tap into my crush on Gob and my obsession with Romeo and Juliet, which I absolutely didn't read cover to cover in elementary school. /s. The school librarian wouldn't let me take the book I'd wanted home with me because it was Too Advanced so I picked a children's book out of spite, and once I was done reading it I wanted to read some more but had picked a book too far below my reading level, spotted a book abt the same size as the book I'd wanted at school on my grandma's bookshelf, saw the Ye Olde English, and decided I was gonna go for a challenge anyways bc Hecc You I Don't Do What You Tell Me. I didn't understand all of the jokes so I looked them up on the public library's computer later that week and once the stuff I didn't understand was Understood it became a personal favorite. I was insufferable abt it in English Class once I hit Highschool.)

Wow that was long!!! But zombies are super cool; as a metaphor, as a monster, as a marketing ploy, just. Zombies.