courage, dear heart

Fanfiction... screencaps... headcanons... pixel art... ☆ ☆ ☆ My, Mala's head really is full of things! ♪ ♫ ♪ since fun times must start from these hands... i'll definitely become your wind

[lazy-day-blues]

lazy-day-blues is moving to dove-cot

hey, guys, this blog is gonna be Officially Defunct And Moved in a few minutes

i’m renaming the aesthetic sideblog dove-cot to dove-cot-vis, because i’m recycling that name to use on my new personal as a new makethings sideblog

translation:

this blog’s content style is being moved to dove-cot, a sideblog to peristeron

[changing-roads]

alt

alternate muses | @pearlsparable​

william turner jr. | pirates of the caribbean

Ten years at sea, for one day on land. It’s a heavy price for what’s been done, his father had said, mere moments after destiny had played itself out. A decade after, and the statement still doesn’t ring true to Will, especially not when land grows closer with every stroke of the oars. No — It’s not so heavy, not in comparison to the way Will can feel the empty space in his chest begin to soar, when he can feel something beginning to patter in his chest, quick with something like anticipation. Not for the first time, he finds himself wondering how it felt when Davy Jones strayed close to the location of his chest. Did he feel the heartbreak every time? The loneliness? It would be like him, Will thinks, to have only felt the suffering. Davy Jones had given up on all the buoyant emotions, all the ones that make life truly worth living.

Will had promised himself, the night he sailed the Dutchman away from Elizabeth, that he would never allow himself to do the same.

Seeing her again is — indescribable. Will doesn’t think he could begin to put words to it. Laying eyes on her still takes his breath away. (The emotions are well and truly overwhelming by the time his foot first sinks into the soft beach sand.) Seeing the boy standing with her — Their son — His son —

No. There are no words to describe this joy. There could never be any words to describe what it’s like to see everything you had never allowed yourself to even begin to dream of play out before your very eyes. His father meeting his son, his and Elizabeth’s child. The look in his father’s eyes when the boy introduces himself as Willie. How could there be any words, in any language between heaven and earth, for this?

His family (his family) aren’t the only ones waiting for the return of the eldest Turner men. As they leave the beach and head inland (the trees, the birds, the flowers), towards the homestead Elizabeth has fostered for the past many years, Will is surprised to see the number of familiar faces milling about the property. Maybe he shouldn’t have been, but he finds new, powerful stirrings in his chest when he spots Gibbs among the crowd, and Marty, Pintel, and Ragetti, and even Mr. Cotton’s parrot. He doesn’t doubt for a second that quite a number of these men (in particular, the ones he doesn’t recognize) are simply here for the sake of the apparently inevitable festivities, but… all the same. This is a gathering for his sake. Well, I suppose I ought to finally stop forgetting I’m not a blacksmith’s apprentice now, Will tells himself with no small drip of irony.

In the midst of mingling, Will happens to glance up at the opportune moment and catches sight of a familiar silhouette, lurking closer to the house — conveniently, closer to the rum. Will’s expression stalls briefly without his realizing it. There had been a part of him that held his breath each time they retrieved souls from shipwrecks. And while there had been, on occasion, people he knew, and even knew well now and then… He still was able to let go of that breath. Now, he finds himself holding it again, and, again, finding himself facing the dilemma of words.

But… It passes, and surprisingly quickly. He makes up his mind, and returns to the conversation he’d been having with his son.

It isn’t until later, when Gibbs has drawn quite a large amount of attention for a tale he’s telling, that Will falls back to where Jack has been hiding from him this entire time. He doesn’t say anything at first, merely refills his tankard of rum in silence. He glances up, his expression schooled into something largely neutral, having decided against trying to feign any surprise. (He knows Jack knows he knows he’s been here.) His eyes betray him, however; there are too many emotions too close to the surface, too difficult to hold entirely back after a decade of lack of practice.

“Nice hat,” he offers, and he’s rather proud of himself for not even cracking a grin.

[changing-roads]

alt!

alternate muses meme | @forbroadside

Vegas. The little courier sang such praises that Dean couldn’t help but hold his expectations high. High enough that he can feel them dropping like an over-dramatic glissando the first five feet he walks down Fremont Street. Really? All this is what she found so captivating? It’s just as filthy and crumbling as everything else he’s seen since leaving the Madre. So much for her “barely touched by the bombs” city.

But… He does find himself settling in. Disturbingly well, he’d call it. But his partner greeted him with the kind of smile that piques his interest, the type that tells him that she’s willing to dance in his palm if he so much as hints at he wants her to, and then took his hand and handed him not only a cushy room in one of the casinos, but a headlining act. The Tops is ecstatic to have him, and he finds himself going from scrounging Old World scraps off the villa streets to living a life that’s downright comfortable. He has fame again, fans tripping over themselves to stand in line for his show. He has safety in the form of so many walls — Freeside, the Strip, the casino and its guards, his private suite accessible only by the right key in the right lock in the right elevator. He has money — what passes for money nowadays, anyway, and, really, who decided on coke bottle caps? He has food, clean water, clothes, and, most importantly of all, he has connections, a direct line straight to the heart of one of the most influential political figures of the region. What more could he possibly want?

What a loaded question. Despite all appearances, Dean finds himself chafing against this… this mockery of what his life used to be like, and it’s as though he can’t manage to shake the Cloud dust from his shoes, no matter his efforts to try. He keeps a pistol tucked up against his lower back, hidden under his suit jacket, even on stage. He finds himself gathering supplies and stashing them throughout the city, despite himself. He watches every adoring smile with skeptical scrutiny from behind his glasses, counting down until the right moment to give them the slip and leave them to the Ghost People. The noise of the casino crowds still sits under his skin like adrenaline as he waits for the tourists to draw the wrong kind of attention and get them all killed.

It feels rather like putting on an old suit, one you left in the back of your closet for too many years, and now it fits poorly in all the places that matter, but aren’t obvious. A little too tight in the shoulders, a little too loose in the sleeves, the fabric stiff and scratchy from lack of use, and it smells funny. Except your favorite tailor went out of business years ago, and you can’t find anyone else who can do it right. But you’ve an event that you must dress up to attend, and the ex took you for all you had, and the only option you have is to grin and bear it. 

Dean is a master at grinning and bearing it and bitching about it later under his breath when alone with his whiskey and no one but the radio to listen in, don’t get him wrong. But, Christ is it getting old, and fast. He doesn’t know how much longer he’ll stay here. Will it matter where he goes? Unlikely. It’s all going to be the same, wherever he turns. The dirt, and the decay, and the unwashed masses pretending to be more civilized than they really are and failing utterly. At least, here, he —

(Has someone he can almost admit to himself he trusts? Who comes around when the Cloud hangs too thick in her dreams, and shares a smoke with him in his suite after they’ve hidden all the radios from view, and offers to take him out into the anonymous desert sands when he can feel his neck tie sitting too close to his throat?)

— doesn’t have to daydream about the sound of applause following his name and a hot bath after a long show.

[changing-roads]

you know that drawing i said i needed accountability for? yeah

click for embiggens

refs: (x)(x)(x)

[lazy-day-blues]

Seven Items Your Character Would Have In Their Pockets At All Times:

i was tagged by @fusrodie​, like, two weeks ago. but i was in the middle of Anxiety Land at the time so i’m only just now getting around to doing this. o r z

i’mma do this one with elle since she’s the one i’ve been focusing on recently!

Caps, unsurprisingly. It's not where she keeps all of her caps, but she'll usually shove any random ones she finds while scavving into her pockets, with the intention of putting them away "later." (Spoiler: She tends to forget until she has too many and her pockets get too heavy, or the ridges stab her in the fingers one too many times.)

Screwdriver and bobby pins, for easy access, because you never know when you have to hastily pick a lock while enemies are coming up behind you.

Random shit she picked up because she thought it was nifty, like interesting-looking rocks or bits of string or clothing buttons or some marbles she was lucky enough to find, or even the occasional piece of Pre-War trash that she decides she likes the advertisement on.

A couple of pens or pencils, because she picks them up when she sees them so she can use them to write in her diary later.

It isn’t uncommon to find her with stimpaks in her pockets, usually just a couple, but if she’s out on her own then she’ll carry them there for even faster access than the pouch on her backpack that is specifically for easy access to chems.

Possibly, her sunglasses, if she isn’t wearing them, or hasn’t clipped them onto her shirt, or pushed them up onto the brim of her hat.

Wonderglue and screws are also incredibly common, because she keeps an eye out for them and again just kind of shoves them in her pockets until she sits down to stash them away properly.

and. uhhhhhhhh. i’m supposed to tag people. i’ll do that when i reblog this to my rp blog so people don’t get confused

[changing-roads]

i do what i must as you do what you oughta i am the wanderer’s wandering daughter take all my pain and mix it with water i am the wanderer’s wandering daughter [ ♫ ]

———♣ independent fallout role-play ♣ semi-selective [ mutuals priority ]

———♣ crossover friendly ♣ multi-verse [ fallout: new vegas | fallout 3 | fallout 4 | AU ]

———♣ [ rules | about | verses | psd ]

[lazy-day-blues]

hey, guys. i’m alive, i swear. i just needed a break from tumblr, and then i fell into a pit of Anxiety and Unhappy. i’m still not entirely out of the Unhappy yet, but i’m getting there. i’m starting to revisit what it feels like to want to do creative things and talk to people again, maybe even thinking about trying tumblr rp again... this is a good sign, i think

anyway i’ll be back properly soon, i just wanted to let people know and stuff

[lazy-day-blues]

HELLO TO THE NEW PERSON WHO FOUND ME, the barbara posts you seek should all be up here at the top alsp @deaconidolizesyou if you send me an ask with your gmail i'll reply privately with mine and we can get that on the road !

[lazy-day-blues]

deaconidolizesyou replied to your post: deaconidolizesyou reblogged your post:knocks…

ALSO I love he daemon thing OKAY BUT SHE SOUNDS LIKE SUCH A GOOD PERSON IM LEGITIMATELY CRYIN

I’M SO GLAD ;A; one of the Key things about her is that she’s supposed to just generally be a Good, and i was sitting here trying to figure out how to give her similarities to zetta without overdoing it (both strong personalities, barbara can be bossy when the need arises, they’re both very protective and aren’t afraid to fight for the people they love) and also keeping her from being too similar to elle – because if i pushed her to be too far from zetta… elle and zetta are basically polar opposites, so i had to find a unique place for barbara to be barbara

also i wish we could figure out a dæmon we’re happy with for deacon. fml. i once came up with a bunch of dæmons for the fallout: new vegas crew with someone but i havent done so with the fo4 group yet and i want to

[deaconidolizesyou-blog]

I think u succeeded in making her her own person, she seems like a solid middle in between the two. and i am immediately fond of her as her own person,. 

oooh that would be cool. how does one go about figuring out which daemon goes to a person?

[lazy-day-blues]

WELL IT IS ... a complicated process. but i use the hell out of that forum, its my favorite approach to dæmons, and i use it for myself too... i'm on mobile atm but i can try to go more detail once im back on my laptop again!

[lazy-day-blues]

deaconidolizesyou replied to your post: deaconidolizesyou reblogged your post:knocks…

*bangs fists on the table* THIS IS THE KIND OF CONTENT I AM HERE FOR I love her, and now i am even more sad that she’s gone ;-; barbara taught him how to read im cryin

also: she’s a synth replacement, and i’m using lizzy caplan as her faceclaim, more because she has the range of expressions i was looking for at the time than anything else

in that hella self-indulgant rp, during the Time Travel Episode they also brought barbara to present times. which . leads to a whole new interesting angle to her…

she’s not happy to be a synth. she doesn’t know she replaced a human barbara, though (because the SS crew + deacon lied to her about it), but she feels Wrong down to her bones. she pushes it away, she tries not to think about it, she doesn’t want anything to do with it. as a result, she actually… doesn’t want to get involved with the railroad. because there’s no way she’d be able to avoid it then. she’s likely to end up standing with the minutemen – which makes deacon unsettled, given how much he Does Not Like Them

and then there’s the whole thing with deacon – her johnny, quiet and scared with a sweet smile, is now the talkative seemingly boisterous lying deacon who has changed his face and seems to be more herself than the johnny she knew. she chose to be there with him, and she’s trying really hard, but she doesn’t know what he needs. she doesn’t know what she can give him. she doesn’t know how they fit any more and it’s really stressful to her

and every time she thinks she gets something figured out, it all slips out of her fingers again. because she can’t stop calling him john, and it keeps pushing deacon into headspaces he doesn’t like, and he doesn’t know who he’s supposed to be when he’s with her. all she wants is for things to be easy like they used to be

i go through patches of time when she’s just On My Mind but it’s always when i’m not doing anything with her and not due to do anything with her for a while yet. barbara why u like this

[deaconidolizesyou-blog]

(time travel is my achilles heel so i am so. here. for. this.)

oh ow my heart. 

She would make such a good minuteman i bet??

[lazy-day-blues]

she really would, i think? she'd be good at a head of a settlement, but she'd stumble her way there instead of trying to do take command or anything. her concern with being a normal patrolman is that she doesnt get to spend time with deacon enough with him being away so much, she doesnt want to add more scheduling conflicts

[lazy-day-blues]

deaconidolizesyou replied to your post: deaconidolizesyou reblogged your post:knocks...

ALSO I love he daemon thing OKAY BUT SHE SOUNDS LIKE SUCH A GOOD PERSON IM LEGITIMATELY CRYIN

I’M SO GLAD ;A; one of the Key things about her is that she’s supposed to just generally be a Good, and i was sitting here trying to figure out how to give her similarities to zetta without overdoing it (both strong personalities, barbara can be bossy when the need arises, they’re both very protective and aren’t afraid to fight for the people they love) and also keeping her from being too similar to elle -- because if i pushed her to be too far from zetta... elle and zetta are basically polar opposites, so i had to find a unique place for barbara to be barbara

also i wish we could figure out a dæmon we’re happy with for deacon. fml. i once came up with a bunch of dæmons for the fallout: new vegas crew with someone but i havent done so with the fo4 group yet and i want to

[lazy-day-blues]

deaconidolizesyou replied to your post: deaconidolizesyou reblogged your post:knocks...

*bangs fists on the table* THIS IS THE KIND OF CONTENT I AM HERE FOR I love her, and now i am even more sad that she’s gone ;-; barbara taught him how to read im cryin

also: she’s a synth replacement, and i’m using lizzy caplan as her faceclaim, more because she has the range of expressions i was looking for at the time than anything else

in that hella self-indulgant rp, during the Time Travel Episode they also brought barbara to present times. which . leads to a whole new interesting angle to her...

she’s not happy to be a synth. she doesn’t know she replaced a human barbara, though (because the SS crew + deacon lied to her about it), but she feels Wrong down to her bones. she pushes it away, she tries not to think about it, she doesn’t want anything to do with it. as a result, she actually... doesn’t want to get involved with the railroad. because there’s no way she’d be able to avoid it then. she’s likely to end up standing with the minutemen -- which makes deacon unsettled, given how much he Does Not Like Them

and then there’s the whole thing with deacon -- her johnny, quiet and scared with a sweet smile, is now the talkative seemingly boisterous lying deacon who has changed his face and seems to be more herself than the johnny she knew. she chose to be there with him, and she’s trying really hard, but she doesn’t know what he needs. she doesn’t know what she can give him. she doesn’t know how they fit any more and it’s really stressful to her

and every time she thinks she gets something figured out, it all slips out of her fingers again. because she can’t stop calling him john, and it keeps pushing deacon into headspaces he doesn’t like, and he doesn’t know who he’s supposed to be when he’s with her. all she wants is for things to be easy like they used to be

i go through patches of time when she’s just On My Mind but it’s always when i’m not doing anything with her and not due to do anything with her for a while yet. barbara why u like this

[lazy-day-blues]

deaconidolizesyou reblogged your post:knocks gently on the door whispers through it who...

PLEASE YES!

SLAMS DOWN MY PILE OF NOTES HERE WHOLESALE

(disclaimer: these are based off of headcanons that my friend has for deacon in that era, which is that:  1. his name was john darrow 2. after he left the deathclaws, he was skittish and quiet and came across as a pacifist because he shrunk away from violence 3. barbara taught him how to read 4. they met when barbara was a caravan guard and he was trying to be a farmer in a settlement)

- protective <-- thinking johnny as a gentle bunny who has never killed - hard-working <-- caravan guard, farmer, etc - 90% of people are good, 10% bad -- believed the good would win out - can make people feel like the world can get better --> makes it seem like not an impossible thing - taught deacon how to read, took care of business end of the farm - nervous tic: pulls all her hair over one shoulder and starts fidgeting with it in various ways - but just fiddles with the ends when she's thinking - bites her lower lip when thinking during conversations - fairly reserved in her body language and physical contact (bc of boundaries, see below) - likes simple physical contact best, hands touching and the like. only wants a lot of physical contact when feeling especially terrible or when at her happiest (or sleepiest) - perceptive, good at watching someone and picking out what they need and is willing to step forward and try and provide it if it’s in her power - well-humored, falls back on jokes more than anything else for coping and deflection - a good shot with a shotgun (her preferred weapon, pistol secondary) dæmon: yellow mongoose - procrastinative/things have to be Just Right before she feels comfortable working on them, though she'll prioritize things that are immediately important (gotta water the crops, make sure camp is secure before settling down, etc.) - instinctively prefers to set her problems aside and focus on other people instead of dealing with her personal issues head-on, influenced by the above - group-oriented, friendly to everyone by default, generally accepting of others even when they're strangers, curious about people - but she respects other people's boundaries (and expects hers to be respected, too) - not afraid to put her foot down, esp on behalf of others - likes to have fun, likes having fun with other people, likes feeling good and making other people feel good - works badly in groups as a result because she likes turning things into games, it's easy for her to get carried away in things that are fun and feel good

the reason why i went ahead and pulled a dæmon for her is because......... that’s just.................... how i do. personality typings can super help me get my head in a character’s space and this just. fit exactly everything i was wanting

ways that her traits interacted with deacon/johnny’s -- - when he would deflect or lie about something in his past with the Deathclaws, she wouldn’t push, she’d let him have his space about things - but she encouraged johnny to come out of his shell to joke around with her - deacon already canonically has a habit of adopting pieces of people’s stories and reflecting their personalities back at them; in barbara’s case, his deacon persona is directly influenced by what she was like, down to styles of joking (merging words, aiming for off-the-wall things for the sake of getting a laugh, even using humor to try to deflect from stuff she doesn’t want to talk about) - when distributing farm chores, johnny and barbara had to be working on separate tasks, otherwise they’d start teasing each other and get distracted and end up playing around the entire time and nothing would get done

[lazy-day-blues]

knocks gently on the door

whispers through it

who wants to hear my headcanons about what deacon’s barbara was like--

what? yes. i mean “that barbara” who half the fandom is convinced doesn’t exist. yes, i have a full personality for h-- look,

[lazy-day-blues]

deaconidolizesyou replied to your post “sorry i’ve been away from tumblr, i was getting stuck in The Tumblr...”

i'm interesting in keeping in touch, but only if you want to. only really use gmail to communicate so if you don't want to thats completely fine.

that works just fine!! <3 i almost always have gmail open in a tab for rp stuffs. is your askbox open or anything or would tumblr IM work better

[lazy-day-blues]

deaconidolizesyou replied to your photoset: that moment when your sole survivor crawls out of...

this is wonderful and you are a great decorator mala! (i’ve done the straight out of the gate decorating thing a couple of times on dif characters but never close to this good. a+++)

i have spent .................... so long. on this house. it’s now like the middle of november in zetta’s game......... i spent more time on the fucking wiring, i think, than the decorating, which says something bc that did take a while

[lazy-day-blues]

sorry i’ve been away from tumblr, i was getting stuck in The Tumblr Loop where i couldn’t... break away from scrolling tumblr... so uh i’ve been trying to maintain some distance

which is also why i didnt post the screenshots of zetta’s house until now even though i posted them on the nexus days ago, whoops

if anyone’s interested in keeping in touch outside of tumblr lmk and i’ll offer some alternate methods of communication... i’ve got plurk, discord, dreamwidth, uh insanejournal now too, and if none of those work, there’s always gmail?