#6a fic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

buckttommy · 2 years

Text

Safest Haven

6x06 Episode Coda. I was rewatching Tomorrow and couldn't stop thinking about Bobby closing his eyes when they thought Karen was gone. There are a lot of implications in that one, tiny little moment and it stuck with me. So now I'm sharing my feelings with you guys.

1.2k | read on ao3

It never gets easier.

Bobby supposes that that is the nature of the job—that, in some way, watching, hearing spouses grieve is never supposed to get easier. He’s heard it a thousand times before, the old sentiment that once it stops hurting, it’s time to stop doing the job. He doesn’t know if that's true or not. What he does know is that his empathy keeps him human, and that the echo of grief he carries in his chest whenever he watches husbands and wives crumble beside the cooling corpses of their spouses, here only moments ago and now cruelly plucked from existence as gracelessly as they were dropped within it, reminds him what it means to be alive. Reminds him that every day, he has the rare and precious opportunity to give to others what he never had: a chance; hope, fleeting, even if just for a moment.

But it never gets easier.

Hen compresses her wife’s chest, over and over in a macabre rhythm he’s seen before.

One, two, three, stay with me.

One, two, three, what about our kids.

One, two, three, please don’t leave me.

It all smells acrid in his nostrils, tastes like ash on his tongue.

Once upon a time there was a boy who torched everything he loved and walked away without a scar…

It never gets easier.

He closes his eyes, just for a moment. He wants to pray but he’s not sure what to pray for. Does he pray for Karen’s healing? For her revival? That she will open her eyes and suddenly be well again? Bobby’s been on this earth for too long, has seen too many miracles to discount the possibility. But they’ve shocked Karen’s chest three times now, have reached the point where to shock her again feels like a cruel debasement of someone once beloved—always beloved. So what does he pray for? Does he pray for himself, that he be granted the words with which to console Hen? He can tell her he’s walked this path before, but she knows that, and it’s not something she’d want to hear from him anyway. The slip in perception between Bobby the Captain to Bobby the Widow is not a transition made lightly, is a transition Eddie still struggles with on the occasions that they talk about love and loss. So what then? Does he pray for Hen? For her strength? He knows from experience that no amount of holy undergirding prepares you for the death of your spouse, the severance of half your body.

The legends say that soulmates were originally one being, cosmically split and destined to find each other over the course of the universe, but Bobby’s not sure that’s true. Or if it is, everyone he has loved and loss has been, in some way, his soulmate—his wife, his kids, himself. He thinks sometimes that maybe it’s not so much that two human beings are singular parts of one whole so much as it is we are all, in some way, apart of each other. But that doesn’t help him now, and that type of philosophizing won’t help Hen either when she takes her son by the hand and once again steps foot in a house made for three that now only fits two.

It never gets any easier—figuring out what to say, what to pray, how best to ask God to drop something timely and divine in your hands.

But then Chimney catches a pulse. Then, Karen’s eyes open and her hand weakly moves to brush against her wife’s pants, and Bobby thinks that, perhaps, God listens to confusion as much as he listens to sonnets.

Athena pulls up to the hospital only moments after Hen accompanies her wife inside. She takes one look at him before pulling him aside, far away from the prying gazes of the men and women he leads into battle, and folds him into her arms. She is smaller than he is, shorter by more than a couple inches, but he is the one who always feels small in her embrace, cocooned by her warm, honey-soaked presence. He sinks down, knees pressing into the cement, and leans his forehead against her stomach while her fingers carefully scratch across his scalp.

She holds him for several long moments, does not speak or question the occasional, tear-less hitches of his breath. Instead, she hums a wordless tune while he stitches himself back together, a melody half-remembered from the gospel stations he used to hear on the gas station radio when he was a boy. Bobby lets himself sink into the memory of youth and childhood fantasies, visions of following in his father and grandfather’s footsteps just as clear to him now as they were when he was a boy.

I want to be a captain one day, he said one summer, gapped-tooth and sure in the way most children are about both the ridiculous and the sublime. I want to run into fires and lift people up and save lives just like you, Grandpa.

There’s a lot more than being a firefighter than just saving lives, boy, his grandpa always used to say, a mouthful of chewing tobacco in his the pocket of his cheek, staining his teeth. Sometimes you’ve gotta save yourself too.

Bobby didn’t get it then, but he gets it now. Oh, does he get it now. Every breath he takes, every moment he does not allow his grief to send him careening into finding relief at the bottom of a bottle is an act of saving himself. Toward the end, Grandpa was senile, barely able to remember his own name much less anything else. But he was right about that—always right about that.

Carefully, Bobby rises to his feet, his eyelids slipping closed while Athena’s thumb brushes the crows feet at the corners. He is getting too old for this, he thinks absently. The humanity of the job, the crash of feelings with no respite, twenty-four hours of blood-spattered, brain-matter, agonized and condensed grief is a lot upon the body and soul. Too much for one man to bear, when carrying the load of others' stifled grief as well. But when Bobby opens his eyes, his wife is there. Not the wife of his youth, for she sleeps underneath the gentle folds of the earth along with his daughter and son, but the wife of his tomorrow, the wife of his forever. Athena stands tall and strong for him just as he has stood for her, a pillar of holiness in herself.

She squints up at his face, sun beating against her eyes, and cups his jaw. “Ready for duty, Captain Nash?”

Bobby nods. He captures her wrist and slides it toward his mouth and presses a kiss to her palm. “Ready,” he says against her skin.

He leans in and presses a dry kiss on her lips, warm and lingering before stepping out of her atmosphere. With every step he takes back to the truck, he sloughs off the veneer of weary husband and replaces it with the cape of stalwart captain, the spines of his crew straightening up when they see him approach.

It never gets easier—the grief, the reminders of all he’s lost, and the way loss always tastes like alcohol and smoke in the back of his throat. But as Bobby leads his team into the hospital, a battlefield of gruesome uncertainty unto itself, with his wife by his side, he thinks that maybe it doesn’t have to get easier, so long as he always has shelter against the brutal press of the storm.

#my fic #jack.txt #6a fic #I know I have a tag list for fic but I'm going to be honest beloveds I simply do not have the patience <3

69 notes · View notes

voulezloux · 26 days

Text

#i am so stressed rn #like i’m constantly stressed all the fucking tiem #i somehow am keeping up with everything i have to do assignment wise for school #while also simulaneoualy feeling like i’m falling behind and i can’t get everything done #like it shows in my grades that i’m on top of shit #my lowest grade is a 92.9% in my law class and that’s still a fucking A #between work and school i don’t have a lot of time for myself #i need to write but i’ve been so fucking exhausted that i cannot even process writing #i’m barely processing any fic i’m reading #or textbooks that im reading #my life since january has basically been playing uber for my mom #driving my dog to and from the sitter’s #going to work #doing school #and going to all my fucking doctors appointments that i have every month #and i don’t mind playing uber for my mom i really don’t #but i’m also not getting a lot of sleep on top of everything #like at most i’ll get 7 1/2 hours on a good day #but i’m averaging 4.5-5.5 hours a night #because i stay up until midnight doing school work and i usually have to be up by 6a to drive my mom to work #i don’t go to bed usually until 1a because i’m still fuckign wired from the day #because i haven’t been able to stop and breathe #i’m p sure i’m developing some kind of eating disorder or at least disordered eating #bc since jan ive lost 22lbs #compared to march 2023 to jan 2024 where i lost 16 pounds #and i know i’m not eating enough or im not eating routinely enough and im diabetic i can’t go long hours between eating #but i’ll got like 6-8 hours between the time i eat lunch to when i eat dinner #i have to get my big bang done by the 28th bc it posts the 29th #and i have so much shit to do for school i do not know how the fuck i’m going to make it to the end of the semester #idk life sucks and i want to cry but i don’t even have time to cry

0 notes

goldenavenger02 · 2 years

Text

Whumptober day 13. Fracture

"Stiles, I don't know about this. We've got yearbook photos tomorrow and-"

"Scott, I swear this time. A call over the radio said they have a 10-64. That means a robbery in progress!" Stiles cut him off while speeding onto the highway, finally seeing his target.

"That's not supernatural though," Scott reasoned from the passenger seat as the jeep pulled up behind the white van, "and it's not exactly good for this robber to know that I'm a werewolf."

"Just do your thing, big guy," Stiles told him as they pulled around and in front of the van, "I'll be just ahead."

Stiles pulled his eyes away from the road to watch Scott jump out of the passenger side of the jeep, hearing the petrified screams of "demon!" behind him from the driver; he couldn't help but chuckle just a little bit from the criminal's panicked scream. That was short lived, however, when the van hit the back of the jeep and Stiles had to grip tightly to the wheel in order not to crash despite slamming on the brake as soon as the jeep hit the dirt.

When the car stopped with an intense lurch, he felt two of the fingers in his left hand snap around the wheel followed by the immediate intense pain radiating up his arm from his hand.

"Ow ow ow ow ow-"

"Are you okay?" Scott asked as he opened the door to the jeep, but Stiles couldn't help but be more concerned about the fact that Scott was covered in dirt and despite the searing pain in his hand and now his arm, he had to ask the same question, "Yeah, just got thrown off the van. The cops pulled him over and there are EMTs. Your hand does not look good at all."

Sure enough, Stiles looked down at the red, rapidly bruising and slightly bent digits on the end of his hand before looking back up and seeing that his dad was just now getting there to deal with the situation that had been thoroughly escalated by the two of them.

'Just perfect.'

#whumptober2022 #no.13 #fracture #teen wolf #fic #season 6A #Scott McCall #stiles stilinski

0 notes

whitedahlia13 · 1 month

Text

She remembers how his eyes fluttered open when her small hand slid over his larger one. She remembers how he released the blanket he was clutching to grasp her palm.

She tells him about the drowsy but rather adoring way he gazed up at her when he sighed, “You came back.”

“You’re supposed to be sleeping,” she weakly reprimanded.

“Thought I told you... I sleep better when you’re with me.”

Not bothering to suppress a smile, she recalled, “You did say that, didn’t you?”

“Mmmwhat are you waiting for then? Get in.”

“Stiles, there’s hardly any sp—”

She remembers the droplets that leaked from his eyes when he appealed, “Please. We can share. I wanna... I wanna share everything with you, Lyds.”

And she was done for.

Read more: ao3 & ffnet

10 notes · View notes

snowbellewells · 7 months

Text

Self Promo Sunday: "Moonlit Ghosts"

I thought that for the weeks in October (and maybe even into early November) I would post some Autumn/Fall/Halloween-themed fics I've written over the years. Our particular fandom and ship has a wealth of fall/Halloween fics really, but hopefully someone might enjoy these contributions of mine - most have a few years on them now, so they might even be ones people have missed or not seen for a while...

Anyway, this first one is a little one shot with some Halloween-tinged feels. There are a few small mentions from 6a episodes of the show, but nothing major as far as spoilers. I hope you all enjoy! :)

Summary: The Storybrooke crew has enough time and peace to plan a little Autumn revelry aboard the Jolly Roger for the kids of the town. The young Author, the librarian, and Emma and Killian, work together to provide some Halloween thrills and chills as well as a haunting story...

Can also be read on AO3 or ff.net if you would prefer...

by: @snowbellewells

Moonlight trickled down a lovely, filtering illusion of brightness amidst the night's shadows, illuminating the surface of the water and glancing off the copper sides of the lanterns Belle had hung around the deck, burning low for effect. Grinning widely in spite of herself – a twinkle in her eye and a mischievous quirk to her smile, Emma Swan waited in the hall below decks, just past the stairs up from the crew and captain's quarters on the Jolly Roger, where their special guests couldn't see her. The elegant old girl bobbed gently with the rise and fall of the waves where she lay at anchor a mile or so out of Storybrooke harbor.

The children circled on the floor around Belle's seat at the stern were wide-eyed, rapt, and silent at the story she wove for them, the lights flickering intriguingly over their faces. Not a single one fidgeted or spoke, their eyes focused on the petite librarian – familiar to them in her pretty skirts and high heels from everyday life in their little town, but transfixing to them tonight in the dark, flowing garb of a gypsy, the moon and pale glow of the wavering lantern flames glancing off the golden hoops in her ears and the rings on her fingers and bracelets clanking together on her arms while she gestured in telling her story. Shadows played over the upturned little faces as well. It said something about just how immersed in the little nighttime cruise Belle and Henry had dreamed up as a fall community event, and Killian had all too enthusiastically agreed to, that even as the story of a horrible cursed monster who chose exile and his strength over love concluded and Belle paused, the sadness in her eyes only visible to those who would know to look, that they didn't recognize her story was in truth woven more from fact than fiction. Belle paused and gestured for a bashful Henry waiting in the wings to join her. Emma couldn't help but smirk even more, adoring the young man her little boy had long since become, as he flushed and looked to Violet seated at his side on an old barrel and she urged him forward with an enthusiastic grin.

Belle's natural storytelling gift had been so evident that no one else would notice she clearly needed a moment to compose herself once more and a pause to gather her still raw emotions. But she looked up at her grandson from where she sat as Henry came to stand at her side, Emma could see her mouth a "thank you" to him, which he responded to with a quick squeeze of assurance at Belle's shoulder. Soon he was beginning to read his own story, voice just a bit shaky at the start. Emma knew that Henry was more than a bit anxious, as he had not read any of his works aloud for an intended audience before, and she smiled fondly at her lanky, dark-haired son, bespectacled, and wearing his school uniform with a maroon and gold striped scarf in an effort to look like Harry Potter for his costume. He cleared his throat and his ever-deepening voice had soon wrapped them all up in his own tale, just as Belle had done before him. He will never have a more captive audience, and her maternal pride in his gift wants this moment, this recognition of his talents, for him.

Her eyes flitted over to find Killian at the helm, one arm propped on the ship's wheel, looking at ease and happy with the scene set before him. He wasn't actually steering them anywhere while they sat at anchor, but he still looked the very picture of dark, dashing pirate captain in the red vest and black leather duster he had brought back out for the occasion, appearing more dangerous Captain Hook than he had for some time. It had been all she could do not to snicker and pat him on the cheek when a few of the little girls had been too meek to talk to him upon boarding the Jolly and their wide, guileless eyes had lingered uncertainly on his curved metal appendage. Unable to bear the hurt puppy look on his face for long, however, Emma had plied him with caramel apples on sticks to hand out as snacks, and felt herself fall for him even more to watch her pirate charm and befriend every last child, even the most shy and uncertain – those ones most of all, if the truth were told.

Startled out of her reverie and the loving perusal of his face, her eyes tracing its strong, handsome lines beneath the stars, Emma's attention was pulled abruptly back to her son, focusing in on the words he was reading to make sure she didn't miss her cue. Henry's writing had set the mood perfectly; an atmospheric tale of an abandoned navy cutlass much like the one they were all on at that very moment, drifting on the open sea, empty and alone except on quiet nights when a bright full moon shone down on the ghost of the mad captain's sweetheart, a pale, white shadow haunting the deck where her faithless love and mutinous crew had all died, doomed to walk the site of her heartbreak forever.

Drawing a deep breath into her lungs and calling on every bit of poise and composure she could muster, Emma topped the steps and with measured gait began to glide across the rough wooden planks to the bow, hoping to convey the solemn, otherworldly, floating quality of a restless ghost. They had powdered her hair white earlier that afternoon, and her mother had applied thick, pale stage makeup – something that had been used in a production of The Christmas Carol at the school at some point and had then wound up with Snow – to Emma's face, neck, and hands, getting into the bonding moment of a mother helping her daughter put together a Halloween costume, even if it was a decade or so late. Those spots were all that really showed beneath the high-necked, long, bell-sleeved diaphanous gown Emma wore, which Snow had tearfully drug from some trunk in the loft when Emma had first mentioned the whole idea.

Now as she progressed the length of Killian's ship slowly and she heard him call out lowly, "Avast, me hearties, look there!" to their youthful audience and gasps of shock and surprise at the appearance began to repeat, she knew the effect was working.

She almost broke character to shoot a concerned look over her shoulder as Killian's voice sounded oddly strangled, stumbling halfway through his well-rehearsed and overly cheesy line, but he continued more softly yet. "Yonder at the bowsprit, it's the ghost of the ship's lady!" as Emma stayed her course, pausing like an eerie statue to look out over the moonlit waters.

Henry's story continued to its end, everyone playing their parts, and though she badly wanted to turn and see the children's final reactions and Henry's face at the choruses of "Again! Tell it again!" and the hearty clapping, she didn't want to break the illusion.

It was only when she heard Belle announce it was time for popcorn and hot apple cider below in a real pirate's galley, where both her parents waited to serve the refreshments dressed as a ship's cook and first mate, and Emma heard the excited hoots and hollers of excitement and all the pairs of little feet moving to follow Belle's lead, herded at the rear by Henry and Violet, both blushing and Violet clearly impressed, moving to the stairs below deck, that she ventured a glance behind her and relaxed her stance to lean against the ship's railing.

She was startled when she did so to find Killian right at her back, a tormented look of pain emblazoned across his face. "Killian, wha – " she began to ask, concern creasing her brow, fingers reaching up to brush soothingly across the scar on his cheek. The movement was aborted and her words knocked from her by the fierce way he lurched forward and clutched her to himself tightly. His grip was almost desperate, and Emma's confusion and concern only grew as he held on, the trembling in his wiry frame plainly felt throughout her own and his heart pounding as though he had run for miles to reach her. Though she couldn't really think what it was, she knew now that the distressed note she had heard in his voice during the story, that catch which had made her think something was wrong, had been all too real.

Finally, he released his grip a bit, took a step back and tilted his head to stare into her eyes. "Emma, love, I just…" he sucked in a ragged breath, eyes wide and almost wild, as he pulled her in again, whispering against her hair "I just need to hold you for a moment. Seeing you that way – as a wraith, a shade – it ran my blood cold. I was not prepared for that."

It nearly stole the breath from Emma's lungs to see the raw anguish on her True Love's face. For a second, it genuinely did look as though Killian had seen a ghost, and Emma's heart ached for him at the fear she knew had been awakened once more, that he would again lose the one person he loved most in the world. There wasn't a thing she could do to take the awful, sinking sensation away, but she tried all the same. Running her fingers through the gentle curls at the nape of his neck, she aimed to soothe, squeezing his back and whispering, "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere, I promise. It's just a costume. You saw it earlier."

He shook his head, the strangled little noise in his throat twisting her gut in sympathy. "I know that, Swan. But that for a moment…you were so pale, almost unreal… for a moment it seemed as if you were already gone…"

She merely nodded, running her hands up and down his spine and out over his shoulder blades; anxious to provide even a bit of calm. Slowly, she felt the tremors between them begin to subside. Killian blew out a deep breath, and Emma could sense him steadying himself and bringing himself back under control.

Resting his forehead against her, Killian placed his hook under her chin, fingers smoothing her windswept hair back off her face in a gentle caress. "I cannot lose you, Emma," he whispered hoarsely, voice controlled once more but still fervently sincere, wobbling the slightest bit as he added, "I won't survive it, not this time."

Shaking her head, Emma reached across to press her hand over his heart, eyes drinking in his beloved face and swearing with all she had, willing both her love and herself to believe. "You won't have to, Killian. We'll find that third way."

He nodded, rubbing her upper arms to chafe warmth back into them in the chilly night air off the open water. For several long minutes, neither of them spoke, merely stared into each other's eyes – not wanting to lose the soft moment together, however it had come about, and turning to look out over the waves back to the lights of Storybrooke in the distance. Then, laughter and the rush of exuberant voices began to drift toward them again as their young charges began to climb back above deck for the short voyage home.

Reminded that they weren't alone and their passengers needed returned from their Halloween excursion, Emma gave one last squeeze of the hand to her pirate, whispering quickly before moving to help get them underway. "It's because of you that I finally know we deserve this future together," she vowed, "and I intend to have it."

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @laschatzi @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @sotangledupinit @once-upon-a-pirate-ship @elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook @the-darkdragonfly @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @bluewildcatfanatic @spartanguard @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @therooksshiningknight @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @resident-of-storybrooke @drowned-dreamer @blackwidownat2814 @bdevereaux @caught-in-the-filter @darkcolinodonorgasm @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @lfh1226-linda @xsajx @jonesfandomfanatic @motherkatereloyshipper @anmylica @kazoosandfannypacks @booksteaandtoomuchtv @xarandomdreamx @stahlop @justanother-unluckysoul @wefoundloveunderthelight @artistic-writer

#self promo sunday #ouat ff #cs one shot #moonlit ghosts #ouat 6a divergent fic #ouat missing moment ff

15 notes · View notes

newvegascowboy · 1 year

Text

food & agriculture in fallout: extrapolation and speculative worldbuilding

Okay, well. This is going to be an extremely long and data heavy post. Bear with me.

I'm going to go into detail about the crops and available food given to us canonically and textually. I'm going to be drawing some real world parallels between the crops we see in Fallout and what we have here. I'll be pulling relevant data from all the games, but the majority focus on this post is going to be about the east coast and Massachusetts in particular because it gives us the opportunity to participate in the agricultural climate of the wasteland.

Is there a point to this? Not really, but I'm pedantic and I take things too seriously.

my sources will be linked in the text throughout. for those of you who want to read about agricultural and growing zones of the continental united states, please follow me under the cut.

Growing zones and real world agriculture

Shown here are the growing zones of the united states, divided into a temperature map of about 19 different regions. It's fairly intuitive to read -- colder temperatures are north and east, while warmer temperatures are south and west. The majority of the Mojave desert sits between 7a to 9a, a temperature range of about 20 degrees. DC and the nearby section of the southeast coast sits between 7a and 8a. The interactive map linked below will tell you where your growing zone sits.

The 2012 USDA Plant Hardiness Zone Map is the standard by which gardeners and growers can determine which plants are most likely to thrive at a location. The map is based on the average annual minimum winter temperature, divided into 10-degree F zones and further divided into 5-degree F half-zones.

For the moment, we are going to focus on Massachusetts.

Using the temperature above, we can see that the growing zone of Massachusetts is 5a (-20f) at it's very coldest, all the way to 7b, (5f) at it's warmest during winter. Most of what we see in fallout 5 sits in the 6a to 6b zone, which is middle ground during the winter, but cold enough to want to warrant crops that can withstand the frost.

There is a solid 5 month window for planting annual crops, like corn, melons, and gourds like pumpkin. Your perennial crops are limited to fruit trees and possibly grains, depending on the variety and whether or not a perennial variety has been bred.

Cold weather crops include beets, carrots, greens like cabbage, collards, kale, and potatoes. These aren't the types of crops that will survive the winter as much as these are foods that can go in the ground as soon as it is unfrozen enough to be workable. Root vegetables and greens can germinate in soil as cold as 40 degrees Fahrenheit, which provides some leeway with unpredictable frosts and late planting times.

Much of the agricultural landscape of Massachusetts is dependent on the dairy industry, farming cattle, and aquaculture -- fishing and catching shellfish. Those with access to the coasts, fish and shellfish ought to provide protein during lean months.

Why are we talking about this? Well, if we're stepping into the shoes of a subsistence farmer in the fallout universe, we're going to have to take into account climate and ideal planting times for certain crops. It's not wholly important in terms of things like fic writing, unless you happen to be writing about the life and times of wasteland agriculture, in which case, I hope this is helpful! Again, I am pedantic, and this section is to provide a template when considering and discussing other parts of the game and what their specific diet and agricultural landscapes might look like.

Something to keep in mind when thinking about how farms might function in the Mojave, for instance, or if you're doing worldbuilding for a different part of the US.

Crops in the fallout universe

Now that we're familiar with growing zones and why certain crops are planted and when, we're going to apply some speculative worldbuilding to fallout itself. We will be revisiting growing zones when we talk about other climates, but for the moment, we're going to focus on fallout 4.

Now to preface -- I don't think that the food that is given to us in game is wholly representative of the plants or animals that survived the apocalypse. If some managed to mutant and survive, I'm willing to bet others did. I certainly won't deduct any points from anyone who wants to talk about growing cotton, or farming peaches or cherries, and I won't raise any eyebrows if someone includes things like spices into their wasteland cuisine.

In the 210+ years since the bombs fell, I do not think that the majority of the US is a desolate wasteland, but this post is not going to be my beef with the devs about how brown everything is. This beef is about food in particular. However, for sake of ease, I'm mostly just going to focus on the food that is presented to us in game.

There will be some extrapolation and speculation later, but if I do that for everything, then we'll be here all day, and we've all got things to do.

I would also be remiss to mention that agriculture in the US is old. It predates colonialism. The Native Americans cultivated the land long before any European settlers. They practiced a type of crop growing referred to as Three Sisters planting, which utilized corn, pole beans, and squash -- all things that exist in the agricultural landscape of Fallout as we know it.

Corn

I'm not going to say much about corn because there's not a lot to say about it. We all know what corn is. Fallout's corn is visually similar to wild violet, a hybrid corn.

But I am not going to say Fallout's corn is one such variety or another. In the 210 years since the bombs dropped, I imagine corn varietals have been bred and interbred a thousand times, and it is probably it's own unique strain. It's kind of a moot point. Corn is corn. You can do with yellow corn what you can do with wild violet, and whatever special breeds that make up Fallout's corn.

Corn is the third largest plant-based food source in the world. Despite its importance as a major food in many parts of the world, corn is inferior to other cereals in nutritional value. Its protein is of poor quality, and it is deficient in niacin. Diets in which it predominates often result in pellagra (niacin-deficiency disease). Corn is high in dietary fibre and rich in antioxidants.

You can do a shit ton with corn. It's a staple grain. It would not be incongruous with the fallout setting to have settlers making tortillas, cornbread, polenta, grits, tamales, etc. Corn can also be used to make corn whiskey. The husks can be spun into yarn and woven into garments similar to cotton, which I thought was interesting and also solves the problem of where the hell wastelanders are getting their clothes. Corn can be used as livestock feed, especially in the winter when cattle can't graze. While corn is a staple grain of the US, the east coast has minor corn production compared to places like the midwest. Corn is a staple, but it does not consist of the entire diet of your average wastelander.

Carrots

Not going to say much about carrots either. They're carrots. They grow well in colder soil and tend to have a lot of natural sugars. The carrots we're shown in FO4 seem to be a mutated variety different than the "fresh carrot" consumable in FNV, but there's virtually no difference, so I'm not counting it. Make some carrot cake.

Razorgrain

"This species appears to be quite promising. It's a toothy grain that we may be able to grind in order to replace wheat, which is untenable in the Wasteland. We are uncertain how to increase crop yields, which are very unpredictable. Will continue to study."

Razorgrain is our first unique mutated crop in the fallout setting. It most closely resembles a barley or a rye. Both are a fairly hardy species and can grow all across the continental united states; rye can germinate in cold weather temperatures. It wouldn't be outrageous to assume that razorgrain is similar too or a crossbred variation of both rye and barley. I have decided to base the majority of my research assuming it is a barley variant. Barley is also a major crop on the east coast near the Commonwealth, so that would explain why razorgrain is present in FO4 and not in the other games.

Barley requires a mild winter climate and can grow in growing zones 3-8, so it would be viable in Massachusetts. Barley can be milled into flour and it contains gluten; the gluten content of North American wheat and barley tends to be higher to survive the colder climates, so razorgrain would likely be very glutenous. It is also less susceptible to ergot than rye, but barley can still become infected -- and, I am assuming, razorgrain could as well.

Razorgrain fills the nutritional niche of carbohydrates and can be used to make breads, cakes, pastas, etc. It produces darker breads that have an earthier flavor than milled white flour. There has to be some method of actually milling the grain, though, which is an intensive process that can often be dangerous. Grain can also be used to make malted candy, which is our first option for wastelanders with a sweet tooth. Obviously, razorgrain can also be used to make malt or grain alcohol and is probably the source of all the beer you find littered around the wasteland.

Gourds and melons

Gourds and melons are actually a part of the same family, Cucurbita. The category of 'gourd' covers several different kinds of vegetables, including ornamental fruits that shouldn't be eaten. We aren't going to spend a whole lot of time on this one, simply because canon doesn't tell us that much and there's a lot of wiggle room in terms of interpretation.

FO4's model looks the most similar to a pumpkin, but it could be some other squash varietal from the Cucurbita family, which includes watermelon, honey melon, cucumber, squash, zucchini and pumpkin.

Melons is another pretty broad category. Melons and squash are part of the same family, as mentioned above. If we're going visuals again, the model is likely intended to resemble a watermelon. Watermelons grow best in humid and semi-arid environments between 70 and 8- degrees Fahrenheit. It's not impossible for wastelanders to be growing watermelons, but considering the humidity and frequent rainfall in Massachusetts, the melons would be vulnerable to fungal infections.

There isn't a lot of information on what specifically gourds and melons are in the fallout universe, so you could get away with writing in a pretty wide variety. Personally, I lean a little bit towards melons being a muskmelon variety, like cantaloupe or honeydew. Squash fills in some vitamin requirements for the human diet, and can be canned and stored for winter. It tends to be high in vitamin C and magnesium.

The limit to this one seems to be your imagination. Go crazy.

Mutfruit

This wiki claims that the mutfruit (it has a scientific name apparently, malus maata) is a mutated species of apple and crabapple. There are two different wikis about the mutfruit, both distinct. The first is linked above. The second is linked here -- I got most of my information from this second wiki.

There is a handful of "canon" information we can take from this set of wikis.

Priscilla Penske in Vault 81 is attempting to create foods that have increased resistance to radiation. She mentions the mutfruit would do well, but isn't certain how the hybridization would affect the flavor and texture.[5]

This claim is taken directly from the second wiki, but in comparison, it makes no sense. If the mutfruit tree is a product of mutation, then radiation shouldn't really affect it at all. It's survived and propagated to this point, hasn't it? I am disregarding this claim on the basis of being stupid.

Farmers in at Warwick homestead will comment on the fruit's characteristics, such as tasting sweet and being versatile in recipes.[1][2] The vault dwellers of Vault 81 trade for mutfruit with the outside world, and use it to make special occasion desserts such as pie.[6][7]

If the mutfruit is an apple variant, then it likely has a high sugar content, and it would have to be harvested in the peak of summer or in early fall.

There are fresh apples the be found across the wasteland, implying the existence of apple trees that have been unaffected by the bombs. Personally, I was assuming that the mutfruit was some kind of blackberry, given its appearance as a clustered fruit, or maybe even a type of plum. Regardless, the mutfruit is a fruit, which means that it would preserve well by being jarred or canned, has a high sugar content, and could likely be reduced to form sugar syrups. Like any fruit, it could be used to make alcohol.

Tatos

I want to stop myself from editorializing too much, but goddamn tatos. The crop that makes the least goddamn sense in the fallout universe. The bane of my existence. Let's get into it.

First off, we're given some pretty damning canon facts about tatos:

Tatos are a mutated hybrid of the cross-pollination of the tomato and potato plants.[1] The new consumable looks like a tomato on the outside, but the inside is brown.[2] Commonly cultivated in the Commonwealth, Appalachia and on the Island, its fruit is easy to grow and can keep one from starving, but their taste is described as "disgusting"[2][3][Non-game 1] and resembling "ketchup-flavored cardboard."[1]

According to some old botany texts we found, this appears to be combination of a now extinct plant called a "potato" and another extinct plant called a "tomato." The outside looks like a tomato, but the inside is brown. Tastes as absolutely disgusting as it looks, but will keep you from starving.

Note: This text was written from the perspective of someone who is unaware that both the tomato and the potato are being cultivated elsewhere. The writer also does not mention any sort of DNA test. However, the potato is also found in the Capital Wasteland, and the writer is a scribe in the Brotherhood of Steel, which originated from that area.

Both potatoes and tomatoes are from the nightshade family. They have the same nutrient requirements, and would compete for resources if planted separately but in the same soil. There is a method for planting them together where you splice a tomato stalk onto a potato root, but this is not the same as cross pollination and will not result in what fallout presents as a tato. What will happen is that the roots will grow potatoes and the fruit of the tomato will branch off the stems.

The potato itself is a stem tuber -- high in starch and calorically dense. A stem tuber is an offshoot of the parent plant that will grow beneath the soil as a type of asexual budding reproduction. We all know what a potato is. The tomato is a berry. It's the ovary of a flowering plant -- again, we all know what a tomato is.

I am going to give Fallout a little bit of grace and not comment on how mind bendingly stupid their description of a tato is. The outer skin is a tomato, but the inside is brown and starchy like the potato? I am not going to comment on how it makes little to no biological sense. The starchy tuber is starchy because it's an energy and nutrient storage device. The tomato is the enlarged ovary of a fruit. Why did those things, which are separately very good, combine into one very terrible thing? I don't know. It doesn't make sense. I don't really want to think about it. But these are the facts as they are given to us in game and I suppose I have to live with that. Obligatory "goddamn you todd howard. a pox on your house."

The tato is probably extremely calorically dense. It's specifically mentioned as being easy to grow and it is a better alternative to starving. It's probably grown as a staple crop throughout the planting season. I'm not entirely sure if the tato can produce glycoalkaloids like the potato does (that is, the green sections of the potato that can become poisonous when exposed to light) but if they can, and if stored improperly, it would negatively impact the health of whoever ate them.

I suppose since the taste is so offensive, tatos are better served as a carrier of some other type of food. Fried, mashed, baked -- the purpose of the tato is simply to get calories into your body. Starch can also be turned into alcohol, which I am going to need a lot of after reading the canonical facts of this stupid fucking plant.

Fallout: The Roleplaying Game Rulebook p.158: "A mutated hybrid of the pre-War tomato and potato plants, with the stem and reddish skin of the former and the brownish flesh of the latter. Tatos provide decent nutrition, but taste disgusting. However, they’re relatively easy to grow and thus are a staple of wasteland agriculture and is an ingredient in a variety of recipes."

fucker

"non farmable" crops

You can't cultivate these plants, but again - we're taking what's given to us and interpreting it extremely literally. There is no reason that these crops could not be domesticated and farmed.

Siltbean

Siltbean is likely a type of bushbean, rather than a pole bean. It's squat and low to the ground. Bush beans require little care or attention and you can pick them when you're ready to harvest them. Historically in North America, beans and corn were grown side by side (though those beans were pole beans using the stalks as support). Bush beans require successive plantings since harvests are early.

There's no good allegory for what type of bean this might be. The potato bean (Apios americana) is native to North America and also produces edible tubers, but there's no reason this couldn't be just some other type of bean. No beans that I could find had red/orange pods.

Beans are a good source of both proteins and carbohydrates, and another crop that can store well for the winter.

Tarberry

Tarberry is a little iffy, considering it is farmed by the ghouls at The Slog, but they're the only farm shown capable (or willing?) to farm the berries. Originally, I had assumed that tarberries were a type of mutated cranberry, and I thought the wiki was supporting me in that claim by saying this:

Tarberries are small, dusty orange berries of the tarberry plant. It is a water-grown crop similar to cranberries.

But cranberries themselves are also canon in the world of Fallout. So who knows! There's no canon information presented on the tarberry's characteristics, so it can be treated the same as any other fruit or berry.

Fungus variants

Glowing fungus: Glowing fungus is one of the few real world equivalents we have. It is a Japanese mushroom called Enoki. It is also farmable as shown in FNV at Hell's Motel.

Brain fungus: This is harvestable, but there aren't any "crops" shown as we would consider them. Considering it's benefits as a mentat replacement, then it's likely that there could be a dedicated space for growing it.

Food and Plants mentioned in the text

Potato

Thank god almighty, potatoes are canon in the universe of Fallout. Fresh potatoes are found as consumables in FO3 and FNV but potatoes are also mentioned in the text of FO4:

Mentioned in dialogue -- {Angry} Shut up Jake. If I hear anything out of either of you, you'll both be peeling potatoes for the next year.

I'm taking this as word of god. Potatoes are canon and I don't care what anyone says.

Tomato

Tomatoes are mentioned in the text, but are never actually seen in game. The only hint that this plant survived extinction is this excerpt from the wiki.

Note: As fresh tomatoes and potatoes are seen in the Mojave Wasteland as of 2281, with the potato seen in the Capital Wasteland as of 2277, the claim of either's extinction by 2287 in the Commonwealth Plant Database could be taken to mean local extinction in east coast regions, as opposed to global extinction. This entry may also just be in error.

There's potential for leeway here, but take it as you will!

Fresh apple

We discussed this back up in the mutfruit section of the essay, but the existence of fresh apples implies the existence of non mutated apple trees. They're found in both FO3 and FNV as a consumable item, so the apple tress have either proliferated across the continental united states, or multiple varieties survived the bombs.

Fresh pear

See above. Pears are also naturally high in pectin, which makes them useful for making jams and preserves.

Pinto beans

Pinto beans are a consumable in FNV and is another W in the bean category of the agricultural landscape.

Jalepeno

Look, I'm picking out this one specifically because I need to believe that other spices and peppers exist in the world. Where would we be without her? Nowhere good.

Raw sap

I am going to say that sap collecting is probably where most of the sugars and sweeteners in the wasteland come from. It's relatively easy to tap trees and collect sap, and it only takes a few hours to reduce the sap down into useable syrup.

Wild Blackberry, Lime, Cranberries, as well as Watermelon as being distinct from simply 'melon' are all mentioned in the text. The list of fruits mentioned or found in the games can be found here.

Animal husbandry

Fallout doesn't give us a lot of canonical information on the animal side of farming. The biggest real world agricultural export of Massachusetts is dairy and cattle farming. Chickens are canon in the worldbuilding of fallout as of Far Harbor, but canon feels both restrictive and extremely loose with regards to what animals can be cared for and how.

We aren't going to spend a whole lot of time on this one, only because the information is pretty limited.

Brahmin

There are plenty of brahmin found throughout the landscape of the wasteland. We most commonly see them as either livestock or beasts of burden. Things like milk, cheese, and other dairy products would be common if a farm has access to dairy cows. The investment to raise cows would be enormous for a subsistence farmer. Dairy cows would likely be kept for a number of years, where steers would be raised 12 to 24 months before being slaughtered; they'd likely be grass fed in the summer and corn or grain fed in the winter. Leather and beef would be products, of course, and things like soap and candles can be made from the beef tallow.

Chickens

Chickens are largely easy to keep and care for, producing eggs and necessary proteins. Chickens can provide niacin, filling in the nutritional gap that would be left by a heavy corn based diet. The investment for keeping chickens is lower than raising brahmin, but so is the payoff.

Bighorners

Bighorners are mutated bighorn sheep native to the American Southwest.[1] Humans have since domesticated them for their horns, meat, milk, and hides,[2][3]

Granted, bighorners are only seen in FNV, but I don't think there's any reason they couldn't have migrated east. In the text, it says they're kept for meat and milk, but there's no reason that they shouldn't provide a fleece as well. In the colder climate of Massachusetts, they would find value in wool, which can keep its warmth even when wet. They may be sparse across the commonwealth, but that would make wool and fleece all that much more valuable.

Fish

Yeah, I know. Technically we can't fish in Fallout (and depending on the game you play, you might not even know what a fish is). But aquaculture is huge in Boston, and with access to the coasts, it's completely fair to say that fish, shellfish, and hydroponics is a completely viable source of food in the wasteland. We see dead fish washed up on shore all the time, along with whatever the hell those shark things are. There should be fisheries and fishing towns all along the coasts.

New Vegas and Fallout 3

Consulting our growing zone chart, we can see that much of the southwest sits between 7b to 8b. The winters in the southwest are fairly mild, and while you can get seeds in the ground sooner, the majority of the battle is going to be finding a reliable water source.

The farming we see in New Vegas has one distinct notable inclusion: the NCR sharecropper farm.

The sharecroppers are growing a number of crops, including maize, tobacco, pinto beans, and honey mesquite. Corn can handle hot, arid weather, it's just not commercially grown out west. Barley can also handle hot, arid climates, and razorgrain would be suitable for the western front -- maybe we can assume it's made it's way that far west and is being cultivated alongside corn.

Most of the plants we see in FNV aren't the type we would see typically domesticated for agricultural use, but that doesn't mean people haven't adapted to their surroundings. It makes a lot of sense for locals to have domesticated local plants like prickly pear and banana yucca. There are a number of fresh produce items to be found as consumables, alongside local fruits the local fruits.

Heat-loving plants are best suited for summer production in desert climates. The plant families that fit into the heat-loving category are nightshade or Solanaceae (tomatoes, peppers, eggplant) and squash or Cucurbitaceae (cucumbers, melons, summer and winter squash). Corn and beans also perform best in hot climates.

Most plants CAN handle the heat and climate of the southwest, the issue is just finding a reliable source of water. Somewhere close to Lake Mead or the banks of the Virgin River would be prime real estate for farming, since irrigation could be accomplished without the use of pumps, like the sharecroppers use.

If we look back at the history of agriculture, it's developed along established waterways in almost every ancient civilization because that's what's easiest. There should be thriving communities surrounding the lakes and rivers in the southwest.

Comparatively, DC was formerly a swamp. It's hot and humid in the summer, though the winters are fairly mild. It wouldn't be a stretch to say that farming practices in the Commonwealth don't differ all that much from farming in the Capital Wasteland -- you could even posit that food from the Capital is of better quality ever since the successful activation of Project Purity. Fresh and unirradiated food was growing there before, so it's entirely likely that even more is growing now. YMMV!

Other consumables

We would be here all damn day if I did research onto every single consumable item available across all three games, so this mostly just because I'm covering my bases.

Look, I'm picking out this one specifically because I need to believe that other spices and peppers exist in the world. Where would we be without her? Nowhere good.

Pre War food

Most shelf-stable foods are safe indefinitely. In fact, canned goods will last for years, as long as the can itself is in good condition (no rust, dents, or swelling). Packaged foods (cereal, pasta, cookies) will be safe past the ‘best by’ date, although they may eventually become stale or develop an off flavor.

The risk with improperly canned good, or damaged canned goods, is botulism. Botulism will straight up kill you. You don't even have to consume that much of it; just a little bit will leave you dead in days. As desperate as I might be for a meal, I'm not going to risk dying because that can of two hundred year old peaches looks really tasty.

If properly sealed and in a dry, ideal environment, I... guess things like cereal and instant food could be okay? But again, with access to fresh grain, sugars, and yes, even potatoes and pasta, why would you want to risk eating InstaMash that's been around since before your great grandmother.

Pre War drinks

Sigh. Okay.

Unless stored extremely, extremely well, most bottled drinks aren't going to last much longer than 9 months. A year, if you're lucky. Exposure to sunlight and improper storage will break down the contents -- the best bottles are brown, then green. Clear glass is the worst because it does nothing to protect the liquid inside.

All the Nuka Cola you find throughout the world is flat, nasty, and will probably make you sick. I don't think that really needs to be pointed out, but there we go. I suppose the soda could probably be reduced to form sugar syrups, but with access to sap syrup and grain malt, I'm not sure why you would be desperate enough to do that.

So what does food look like in Fallout?

If there's one thing I know about humans, it's that humans like to eat. Food is culture, as much as culture and community is built around food. Good food and access to it is paramount to human happiness. All this to say is that food in fallout is whatever you want it to look like.

I can extrapolate and theorize all day long based on what Fallout tells us definitively, but I'm not going to tell you what the culinary landscape in the wasteland looks like. The only point that I will stress is that humans are really, really good at making things appetizing.

The fandom is already so creative when it comes to developing their idea of what food means in the wasteland. It's what's directly inspired me to write up this stupid, long ass post about farming and agriculture.

Obviously this is not a comprehensive list of all the base ingredients you can find in Fallout. I picked the ones I did because of the potential for consistent farming. Wastelanders have had two centuries to develop agricultural practices based around subsistence farming. I am not a subsistence farmer, and I have no idea how wasteland cottagecore would work at the heart of it. Running a farm is extremely labor intensive, and so much of your investment has to be immediately recouped in the form of eating what you harvest.

What a farm is likely to look like will start in the early spring when the ground begins to thaw, and a farmer can plant his cold resistant crops, like green vegetables and razorgrain. Potatos, carrots, and tatos will also weather the spring chill. When it starts to warm up, the more delicate plants like corn, beans, and squash or melons will get planted and tended to.

If your family is lucky enough to have a greenhouse, you can keep crops growing all through the winter and have a surplus for trade and barter, or just to preserve and refill the pantries.

A lot of the investment will have to be immediately recouped. Eggs from the chickens can't be preserved, obviously, but there will be meat from hunted animals, milk from the brahmin, probably an early harvest from the beans and tatos, and whatever else is in the pantry from the previous harvest.

Some of it will be canned or preserved in the forms of jams or jellies (just remember what I said about botulism). Meat from animals that get hunted can be smoked or otherwise preserved. Grain can be milled into flour or eaten whole and unshelled. Even the corn silk can be woven into clothes for the summer.

There really is no limit to what can be done in the end. While a lot of this information was taken from what we're given in the text, there's no rule that says you have to follow it word for word. If you believe something exists out there, then write it! We're all just making shit up as we go along anyway. If you need permission, then here it is. You can do whatever you want. Make up recipes! Go insane. Follow whatever your little foodie heart desires.

#fallout #kal talks #fallout 4 #fallout new vegas #fnv #fallout 3 #fallout meta #fallout food #fallout headcanons #behold. the agricultural masterpost of my farming headcanons #here she is

747 notes · View notes