fallout-frog
gatekept niche internet micro celebrity
106 posts
Latest Posts by fallout-frog
i would never Start gaming past 10pm but I will often Keep gaming past 10pm. do you understand
i think you missed the point of my post. in a world where literally everything has gone wrong there are still somehow people there. it’s hard to imagine the wasteland inhabitants would put trust back into god like people used to before the bombs fell. it’s the fact that people are surviving regardless: that wastelanders know the world is shitty and continue on regardless.
something something they still find joy in the smallest places. people fight to survive but none of them seem like they want to very much, and the ones that do are just in petty squabbles.
it IS a repurposed corpse, because that’s what humans literally do. you make the best of any damn situation and the situations that follow, the point of my post was to examine how utterly terrible it was and how i think i might manage with the western world’s decent into fascism. for christ’s sake, the wasteland doesn’t even have a singular happy color in the palate, it’s all washed out greys yellows and browns. if you want to talk about honest hearts then, yeah there’s color, lots of green, but they really don’t get to keep it, or enjoy it.
i don’t think any wastelander would accept that they just need to “do more work” when every day is a fight for their survival.
it’s not that being in a wasteland would suck, it’s that every day, you are constantly reminded you were born into a world where you had no chance. i mean the wasteland was already dreary, and somehow your parents managed to fuck to create you? statistically you’re a fucking anomaly unless you’re from a vault. but still somehow your mother had nine months of adequate food, shelter, and water that resulted in you. and somehow you survived all those years. all so you can live in a place that bares lacerated scars of the past?
physical proof that god has abandoned you, and the sun shines down only to bake your world to death, irradiated everything, turning you to living sludge. you are born into the world, with barely much of a life, and you are born into a world where you will experience, very likely, an extreme amount more pain and suffering than if you just hadn’t been alive.
it is impossible to step a foot in any direction without seeing some prewar reminder of anything, a reminder of what other people fucked up for you. and you still persist.
you still persist. despite all the rationale for not, or for meeting some accidental end, you still persist despite all odds.
One is concerned it’s working, the other is considering it.
lemme get you a blamco macn cheese baby girl
oh yeah .
this has probably been done to death but i wanted to do it anyway - here's a trans flag colour-picked from a sunset in Fallout: New Vegas! + the screenshot i took to make it <3
im sure someone already made a post about it but i came across a ublock origin add-on that blacklists around 950 AI websites and disables AI overview ☝️ so u can be free from seeing AI in your search
hrt saves trans lives
Day 212
Freaking It Blue Style!
second battle of hoover dam
Courier 6 dunking on Legate Lanius
benny shenaniganery
i really like fallout because, unlike a lot of media that uses retrofuturism as just a cool aesthetic, fallout’s obsession with 1950s americana actually means something. it’s not just chrome fins and googie diners, it’s weaponized optimism. it’s that sickly-sweet propaganda sheen slathered over nuclear terror, where smiling mascots tell you to duck and cover while the government quietly preps for the end of the world. it’s about a country that believed so hard in its own greatness it signed its death warrant in cursive.
fallout takes that warped, post-war idealism, the “gee whiz!” charm of suburbia on lithium. and drags it through the dirt, showing us what happens after all the white picket fences melt into radioactive slag. in a world shaped by that specific brand of McCarthyist exceptionalism, the future isn’t flying cars and robot butlers, it’s a dinky holotape of your last moments before the bombs hit, looping forever. like vault 11, the one where the final recording plays after everyone’s already dead, revealing the whole “sacrifice one person every year or everyone dies” mandate was a lie. a loyalty test. a sick joke. and the vault passed, right before it failed, because paranoia and desperation had already eaten them alive.
that’s fallout. not just the end of the world, but the punchline that comes after the moral.
and honestly? that hits way harder than any sleek utopia. because fallout remembers: beneath all that pastel patriotism and canned laughter, something was always rotting.
“yeah no prob, man.”
two months ago you would’ve sworn i was your sun, your stars, and your everything. i cannot pretend it you did not love me more than life itself. your soul-crushing casualness will ruin yourself and then me. reconsider.
“mutual reblogged a post” “mutual reblogged a post” mutual, why don’t you reblog MY post ❤️ why don’t you reblog ME ❤️❤️
MUTUAL. i love you. kiss me on the lips. be my friend, please.
it’s not that being in a wasteland would suck, it’s that every day, you are constantly reminded you were born into a world where you had no chance. i mean the wasteland was already dreary, and somehow your parents managed to fuck to create you? statistically you’re a fucking anomaly unless you’re from a vault. but still somehow your mother had nine months of adequate food, shelter, and water that resulted in you. and somehow you survived all those years. all so you can live in a place that bares lacerated scars of the past?
physical proof that god has abandoned you, and the sun shines down only to bake your world to death, irradiated everything, turning you to living sludge. you are born into the world, with barely much of a life, and you are born into a world where you will experience, very likely, an extreme amount more pain and suffering than if you just hadn’t been alive.
it is impossible to step a foot in any direction without seeing some prewar reminder of anything, a reminder of what other people fucked up for you. and you still persist.
you still persist. despite all the rationale for not, or for meeting some accidental end, you still persist despite all odds.
:3
Mutuals i would just like to say it is an honor to be trapped inside of your phone
heh
kill kill kill your local fascist
go ahead! you know you wanna shoot them!
no bark noonan, back at it again with the realest takes
it is my experience that people with dermal implants and eyeball tattoos and 34 visible piercings are the sweetest people you'll ever meet and will cry if they see a pigeon with a broken wing. it is also my experience that clean-cut people in polo shirts with perfect smiles will vote against your rights and say the most disgusting things imaginable once they think you're out of earshot.
this encapsulates all the Emotion i feel at night. i like it a lot
On quiet Mojave nights like this, old scars start to hurt
“nihil novi sub sole”
there is nothing new under the sun, and for arcade? it’s exceptionally true. in none of his endings do you ever actually get to keep him. you always have to send him away, send him somewhere, he will not come to the dam with you. he complains he’s too boring and nobody ever stays, and you are not allowed to stay. in some desert, somewhere, maybe arcade finds himself. but it’s not this one, and it’s not with you.
he thinks it’s pretentious, and he would suck at it purposely
arcade gannon would HATE bowling.
we don’t need ai to make art accessible. make shitty art like the rest of us.
be in love!!! i love to love. i love loving!! love people!! love your friends your partner your parents your pets love anyone you feel love for and love doing it!!
you may notice i use the phrase "my beloved" frequently. this is because i am in love with the world and everything in it. hope this clears things up <3
doomed yaoi analysis does really well on the tumblrsphere
read one doomed yaoi fanfic where it was arcade cannon and a low intelligence courier. the courier would abuse mentats (i could never abuse mentats i love mentats) to mentally “keep up” with the courier. something something but arcade gannon was letting the courier abuse drugs because he loved the conversation and the stimulation. it was killing both, gannon from guilt and the courier from drug abuse, and gannon just. gosh it was so good and i think it rlly highlighted parts of arcade.
especially since in the wasteland once arcade finds someone that actually sticks to him i think he would be hesitant and horrified of letting them go. he says he’s boring but finding someone that doesn’t believe it, once he lets them stay i don’t know if he could get over that.
i can’t remember if he knew the courier started taking mentats as a way to keep up (met them in the middle of the abuse?) but he found out eventually and i can imagine him just. being so torn. on one hand you have his dream man, smart, funny, withstanding of his own perceived negative traits, but he’s faking half of it, or being lonely again. how do you to learn to sleep on your own again, after the all consuming ache you managed to avoid comes back again? at what point can you no longer allow your loved one to abuse themselves?