"I make deliveries. That's all."

Tied to no one and nothing; just a courier en route to rescue the fallen America from the Last Stranding. [Canon-divergent Sam Porter Bridges RP and ASK from Death Stranding. None of the images are mine unless otherwise specified. I do not own Death Stranding in any way. Mun and Muse are 25+.]

[porter-without-ties]

“ i don’t need your pity. ” ( from daryl )

“It wasn’t pity. Far from it.”

[porter-without-ties]

“ places to go, shit to tear up. ” ( from daryl )

Sam quirked his brow. He had all the places to go, but tearing shit up wasn’t what he was after.

“I’m afraid that’s all you.” He hefted his pack onto his back. Not to say he couldn’t cause a little havoc every now and then (in fact a good amount of his items came from theft when he needed it most), but he didn’t necessarily like to look for trouble.

[porter-without-ties]

“ animals call it survival. humans call it business. ” ( from daryl )

“Yeah…I guess. But you gotta figure at some point, we can no longer call ourselves human.” Humanity was gone, but did that mean it had to be lost?

[porter-without-ties]

ah, it’s probably fine.

Sam just stared at her. Probably fine? He’d been running on maybe’s and probably’s for longer than he wanted to at this point. He was overdrawn. He just needed something to be a little more concrete than probably, for once. The porter gave a small grimace and directed his gaze toward the ground.

“You don’t have anything a little more definite?” He tilted his head upward to peer at her from beneath tired eyelids.

[porter-without-ties]

“ keep your head down and make a run for the truck. ”

Poor Lou couldn’t function, she was so tired. It was unfortunate it had to be while Sam had to make it through a BT field. Though, as Sam crouched to avoid detection, a vehicle he’d noticed off in the distant finally pulled up just close enough that he could hear the harsh whisper from the person inside. For now, he wouldn’t question it. Sam did as advised and sprinted to the passenger side of the truck. Blackened hands had begun to follow him, prints stomped into his.

“Go.” He huffed gruffly after barely closing the door behind him.

[rpstartersinc]

feel free to change pronouns / wording !

“ i’ll do the talking. ”

“ i’m very particular with my words. ”

“ it got out of control. ”

“ i hate when things get out of control. ”

“ you had one fucking job. ”

“ and i got blood on my fucking shoes. ”

“ at least there’s a silver lining. ”

“ i’d recognize those eyes anywhere. ”

“ is this your plus one ? ”

“ strong silent type, i like it. ”

“ if you give food to monkeys they just throw their shit at each other. ”

“ i have cleared my calendar for you ! ”

“ you and i are gonna tear shit up ! ”

“ that wry smile betrays you again. ”

“ well go on, take the bloody bag off his head ! ”

“ men only really love you in hindsight. ”

“ did no one ever teach you that it’s rude to text at the table ? ”

“ go on … cry for help. ”

“ i’m afraid they’re not coming for you, buddy. ”

“ enjoy the crab rangoon. ”

“ we’re here to rescue you. ”

“ keep your head down and make a run for the truck. ”

“ we’re in the middle of a fucking war. ”

“ i overreacted back there. ”

“ turn off that fucking radio ! ”

“ promise me you won’t fall. ”

“ welcome to my church away from church. ”

“ what gun would jesus choose ? ”

“ there was a plan, and now it’s fallen apart. ”

“ i’m the cavalry, man. ”

“ man, i do not understand what you are sayin’, i don’t speak your language. ”

“ boom. i went french fries, you stayed potato, that’s alright. ”

“ it could get messy. ”

“ you eat, or you are eaten. ”

“ animals call it survival. humans call it business. ”

“ you tried to kill me ! ”

“ you know what ? fuck you. ”

“ we were not disappointed. ”

“ you were here on time and i was not ready. ”

“ if you’d killed him i wouldn’t have blamed you. ”

“ can’t figure out if that smell is bad sanitation or just the abject loss of hope. ”

“ i don’t answer to you. ”

“ i don’t need your pity. ”

“ you have been a naughty little shit, haven’t you ? ”

“ it’s a good thing we found you before you froze to death. ”

“ is this mahogany ? ”

“ it had to be done. but that doesn’t make it any easier, does it ? ”

“ you have a taste for doing what it takes. ”

“ do you feel better now ? get it out of your system ? ”

“ maybe now we can finally shoot some goddamn guns. ”

“ do you follow him on twitter ? it’s gold. ”

“ i would love to shoot the breeze with that young man. ”

“ people are hypocrites and they all want someone to blame for their shit-filled lives, they never want to accept their share of the responsibility. ”

“ bring me some gauze and some fucking antiseptic ointment ! ”

“ i can almost see your furrowed brow from here. ”

“ places to go, shit to tear up. ”

“ choices have consequences. ”

“ should i start taking this personally ? ”

[lexpxrdus-a]

Buzzfeed Unsolved; The Demonic Curse of Annabelle the Doll Sentence Prompts ( part 2 - investigation ).

well, we’ve arrived.

you got the demon jitters.

this is maybe the most dangerous place we’ve ever entered.

you got that look in your eyes again.

it does look like a place that would be haunted, huh?

it has nothing but haunted artefacts stocking the shelves.

i know a little bit about some of these things.

it’ll attack you in your sleep.

i’m not gonna tell you how to do it, because if i do, you’ll do it.

i’ll read the instruction manual and get back to it.

it’s very organised, though.

it’s got a funny little face.

it kinda looks like you.

i was gonna say it looks like you, with the elongated limbs.

it’s got those little like, scared eyes, you know?

this is what you look like when you see something you think is evidence.

wow, this is really a regular shop of horrors here.

we can take one step at a time, if that makes you feel better.

okay, you go for it.

can you jump into my mind?

you could think of this guy as a very big doll.

i’m gonna lock you up inside my body like a little canary.

you can be stuck inside my rib cage forever.

what do you think of that, [ name ]?

it is weird to make direct eye contact with it.

yeah, i don’t like it.

it’s too annoying.

i’m gonna go back to hell now, just chill out for a bit and destress.

she’s really treating us to some lovely classical music.

i’m gonna give you some silence for you to do whatever you’d like.

why would you say that?

what’s wrong with you?

i’m just trying to be very thorough here.

as much as i would like to catch some evidence here, i frankly don’t want to catch anything at all.

frankly, in this moment, i don’t really care.

you almost gave me a heart attack.

that’s what kills me, just the fright alone.

i would like to say while everyone’s in the room here that i respect you and i don’t want anything to happen.

in fact, if you were to say nothing to me, that would be great.

oh, we got a little reading by the cross! maybe it’s our pal jc.

i don’t know if he just hangs out in every cross in the world, or if he’s split among them like a horcrux, but it’s good to see him.

that feels like some positive energy.

is he gonna show up at some point to fight you?

i have holy water, though.

he’s like the guy whacking away at the tree with the axe.

i’m gonna walk in when the tree falls down on me.

…and he’s dead.

she’s weak sauce, bro.

i don’t even want to get close to her.

i go in, yuck it up. [ name ] goes in and almost blacks out.

your time’s up.

just a reminder, [ city ] doesn’t have the best public transport in the world, so we are in vehicles quite a bit.

every day, always travelling.

just a heads up.

between me and you, he’s free range.

will that incriminate me in court, if something happens to him?

ah, it’s probably fine.

alright, well, take it easy.

are you so angry you can’t even speak?

i can’t believe you did what you did in there.

i’m gonna be so pissed off if we die.

[naughtyandnicerpmemes]

yet another symbol meme.

SEND AN EMOJI TO:

🤗 - hug my muse.

✋ - give my muse a pat on the head.

💋 - kiss my muse.

💘 - snuggle with my muse.

😞 - have my muse press their head against yours’ chest tiredly.

💤 - fall asleep on my muse.

💦 - have my muse comfort yours as they cry.

😥 - comfort my muse as they cry.

❤️ - pet my muse.

🙌 - shove my muse out of the way.

‼ - have my muse tackle yours.

🤜 - punch my muse.

🤛 - have my muse punch yours.

🗯️ - bite my muse.

💢 - snarl/growl at my muse.

❌ - kick my muse.

💥 - hit my muse while they’re on the ground, injured.

🖤 - attempt to finish off my muse.

💪 - pick up and carry my muse.

🗨️ - verbally praise my muse.

💬 - stare at my muse solemnly.

💧 - pour a bucket of water on my muse’s head.

☂️ - shelter my muse.

🎉 - celebrate with my muse.

🎃 - attempt to scare my muse.

📣 - yell at my muse.

[porter-without-ties]

[anyone wanna do small, non-committal things tonight? Like short back and forths? I don’t have energy for anything too lengthy. I’ll reblog some memes :) ]

[kiodja]

welcome home

[porter-without-ties]

[Still alive. Hoping to come back soon. Inspo is slowly rising.]

[porter-without-ties]

[Sorry I’ve been quiet, I’ve been so tired. Recovering from inventory week.]

[kiodja]

[porter-without-ties]

Correcting Buck was not worth the effort, and it sure as hell wasn’t worth him getting the satisfaction of having Sam talk. In typical Sam fashion, however, he’d offer up just enough dialogue to sate whatever need there was. Sate, or further pique?

He didn’t turn around but he stopped moving momentarily. The hand with the cloth rest on a shelf while the other fell to his side.

“That’s right.” Not worth the correction. Even though he wasn’t particularly fond of the name ‘Sammy’. It usually denoted some form of jeer and he liked it even less in the mouth of someone like Buck. He resumed wiping the current shelf and moved to the next. None of his movements were quick; he didn’t care to be noticed more than he already was.

[porter-without-ties]

[Look, I’m not great at this art stuff and I’m even less great at marketing myself in such a way that people get hyped up for my stuff, but below will be a spot to click on for my ko-fi page. I am better at writing than I am with physical art, and if you’d like to commission writing, that’s fine. I have an ok repertoire of things I can write. I just don’t know if I was ready to do a gofundme yet. But hubbs and I are really struggling right now and it’s getting hard to function. I’m going to try and extend myself to commissions (it will take me time to get them finished of course).

Anyway, anything would be greatly appreciated, but of course you don’t have to donate. Spreading the word is just as effective. Here’s my Ko-Fi link!

It only has physical art samples right now. But if you follow me, you already sorta have a taste for my writing.]

[porter-without-ties]

[Super stressed right now with the fact that hubbs and I are in such a debtors hole rn. We owe so much money and I started a ko-fi for like donations, but shit, I don’t have much going on as far as a marketable skill. We are gonna be in the hole for a while now, so it’s not even gonna help in the long term. He won’t be making money until late March and I can’t do commissions. So yeah. I’m going to die from lung cancer cos I will be smoking a whole carton for the next two months.]

[porter-without-ties]

@irritableteadrinker

The Brit looked awfully confused for a moment.

  Was the silent Porter giving him a gift?

  A rarity in Simon’s life; that someone would give him an item that didn’t require him to deliver elsewhere. Simon didn’t seem to know how to respond at first. Should he politely decline and risk insult? Accept and look greedy? Was that even greedy? If anything, Simon should probably be thanking Sam rather then standing there like a confused idiot.

 “Oh! Thanks for the boots.” He hadn’t even realised his own were starting to look a little depressed. “Though… don’t you need these? Something tells me you hike around these parts more often then I do.”

For a moment Sam was certain Simon would refuse the boots. He wouldn’t have blamed the man. Gifts always made him feel weird too. Even if someone insisted it was more for aid than as a gift, the charity of it still seemed off to him.

Ready to put the boots back on his clip, he was mildly pleased that he didn’t have to. Simon took them. Light glinted off of them as they shifted into the other man’s possession.

“Every time I make a delivery to the Chiral Artist, I get a set of these. I probably have at least four stashed away in the private locker over there.“ Sam looked down at his own boots which were also gold. “I’ll be fine. Besides, these will keep you longer than those you got on. Better resistance to timefall.” It wasn’t uncommon for Sam to stash away things in the porter share locker, especially if he knew it would help immensely.