#just feels super fucking weird

[varjopeura]

.

[dykedvonte]

Do you have anything you've been thinking on but just haven't made a post about it yet? Also I'm really enjoying your fic!

I have a few things but it's likely mostly headcanons that I consider somewhat disconnected from my analysis.

Curly's parents had him old, only child, died shortly after he graduated and got the pony express position. It was the last big thing they saw him do which is a reason he stayed for so long.

Doesn't admit how much their death affected him

Jimmy has a largish family. One of the cases of too many kids to keep tract of, parent never really noticed any of them nor their behaviors

Anya lived in a lot of houses growing up, regular supportive family that just struggled to support themselves.

Became a nurse largely to avoid their financial struggles but mostly because she felt too many people weren't being cared for and advocated for in the world properly

Swansea likes high top sneakers most. Likes how snug they fit and how they shield his ankles at work

Curly has a bit of a caffeine problem since he can’t sleep. Can occasionally be found wandering the ship at “night” when he had some too late or just couldn’t sleep.

Daisuke knows a little about a lot of things. Starts conversations with “did you know” a lot but please don’t ask him deeper questions

Curly has known Jimmy longer but has worked with Anya and Swansea longer, met them during his middle years, met Jimmy shortly before college.

Swansea rents a house, Daisuke’s family lives in a big nice apartment, Curly has a condo, Anya live in a small one bedroom apartment and Jimmy has a studio.

Curly's home is very disconcerting. It's too normal to a like uncanny degree.

Anya is ambidextrous but prefers her left.

Anya and Curly are both not native English speakers so occasionally they forget words and bond over the mutual mocking they get from the rest of the crew. Daisuke knows some Japanese but is still learning, never picked it up as a kid

Only Swansea and Daisuke know how to drive, Earth in my mind is very post capitalist so only older people and like the extremely wealthy can afford cars.

It's also like walkable just due to how many businesses are in your face. Probably strict living vs shopping districts

I have more but the way that I headcanon about them is like too long.

[sadisthetic]

BURST💥

[randomminty]

Sorry for kind of insulting you through a children’s book i wrote i hope were still besties

[astracora]

A Mandated Holiday Break - Chapter 8

Characters: Sylus x gn!mc (poly lads)

Warnings: Sylus myth mentioned, mild hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1424

Written: 22nd December 2024

Notes: Post-relationship Sylus/MC-centric but poly LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

Masterlist

Sylus enjoys a karaoke bar, especially if he's got access to you for a duet. You tease him but you'll always join him, hanging onto his arm and letting loose, and he sometimes falters over the words because he's too busy watching your face.

Still, this is good too. You've set up the game system that the doctor bought for his base, presenting it with a sigh. 'You won't know the right one.'

He'd been a little insulted, but he'd acquiesced, in the end the doctor knows gaming better than he does. It's never appealed to him, and he's never had real time to try. A sing-a-long game is loading up, yelling out 'let's sing' loudly from the speaker system.

You'd presented it to him with the doctor, beaming, "You'll like this one, I promise!"

The fish had groaned from the sofa, "Why do we all have to suffer the crow's crooning?"

As much as you've teased him for being out of tune, you've always encouraged him. He can't count how many times you've asked him to hum for you. Lay against his chest, and unable to sleep for nightmares.

The reason for the at-home karaoke session, are the cocktails that Luke has decided he wants to try making. Kieran is his primary test dummy, and if anything doesn't make him spit it straight back out. You're trying them.

It's ill advised… Sylus knows you're not a light weight, but he does know you and the twins can get competitive. It feels like it's only moments before you start doing shots together, and if that happens he's bound to get dragged in, and as quick healing as he is, he doesn't fancy driving anyone anywhere. Nor does he want to get into a taxi with someone he doesn't trust. Not with you and the twins.

He needs you safe.

He also blames you for Luke’s new hobby, you’d showed them some movies, made comments about how stylish a good bartender is, (He hadn’t filed that information away, to practice. At all.), and Luke had taken that as a challenge.

“It can’t be that hard.”

“Yeah! You can do it bro!”

You’d laughed and not thought anything of it. They’d gone out, and returned with… boxes.

Then raided his alcohol supply.

He’d dragged them both back by the scruff of the neck when they went for the very expensive top shelf. In no world were they mixing that with… was that moonshine? Where did they even get moonshine from?

He doesn’t see you drunk often, there are times you’re out in busy places because you feel you have to attend, and he’s seen you drink then to soften the anxiety and stress. You always call someone to be there then, drunk you is far more willing to rely on others. He also has seen you drink when you feel safe, has carried you on his arm more than once in those situations.

You apologise but there’s no need, especially when he gets to see the embarrassed but enamoured look on your face as he holds you in one arm. Your fingers drifting over the veins in his bicep, with a look he can only describe as hungry. He flexes a little more than he needs to on those occasions.

(There was one time you’d made a comment about beef clod, and he had truly not known how to respond.)

He can see you getting to that point now, you’re trying something green that you and Kieran are sipping from the same glass with separate straws. Luke is taking his turn at the microphone, singing something about what he wants for Christmas. Sylus is unsure if the radioactive green drink is good for either of you, but you don’t look sick, still. He’s wary, and flicks your forehead. As you put a hand to the targeted area, pulling away with an offended ‘Oi’, he grabs the glass and sips from your straw.

“Aww, Boss come on.”

It’s��� not as bad as he expected, but he can’t imagine drinking it for fun.

Whether his taste buds are ‘broken’ like you’ve claimed before, and its somehow worse than he tastes, he still doesn’t feel good about putting it back in either your’s or Kieran’s hands. So he downs it.

Wrinkling his nose and pushing the glass away.

Before you can grab another concoction, now that Luke is back and shoving something else onto his brother, (He’s going to have to hide the key to the liquor cabinet he thinks, if this becomes a long standing hobby for them.), he pulls you over to the karaoke machine. “It’s our turn kitten, I’m owed a song for saving you from a terrible fate.”

Your tongue is out at him, but you stumble over grabbing his arm to steady yourself, and pick up the controller to find something you both know well enough to get through it with little effort.

His song repertoire has grown substantially since you’ve reentered his life, he feels confident that anything you sing to often he has memorised. Catalogued away to think about on nights you’re not here to sing for him.

When you’re satisfied, lining up a particular choice, you thrust the microphone into his hand, that’s not currently steadying you at the waist.

You look right at him when the song starts, familiar with some things enough to sing them blindfolded, and as tipsy as you are, with your voice wavering a little, he’s as starstruck as he always is.

“And I’d give up forever to touch you, ‘Cause I know that you feel me somehow, You’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be, And I don’t want to go home right now.”

There’s moments in his life, where Sylus wonders if he blinks, will you disappear? A fragile illusion on a wishful soul. That someone, somewhere has truly seen into him and seen something worth adoring and loving. He thinks you are easy to love, there can be no doubt that you are worthy without the need to earn it.

“And all I can taste is this moment, And all I can breathe is your life.”

You have reminded him, again and again that you love him, that he does not need to pay for it, or gift for it. That everything that is offered is freely given, and wholehearted. That there is nothing to earn. It is not a transaction, no relationship should be. You do not keep score, and you would rather he did not either.

“And sooner or later it’s over, I just don’t want to miss you tonight.”

It still leaves him with the feeling that in seconds he could wake up, in a cold cave, surrounded by gems he no longer sees beauty in, in a world where he is nothing but broken horns and lost family.

“And I don’t want the world to see me, ‘Cause I don’t think that they’d understand, When everything’s meant to be broken, I just want you to know who I am.”

He loves you, he loves his life with you, and he is so scared-

Your hands move to his cheeks, his voice halts, wavering and pausing. Blinking at you. The microphone is out of your hands and you stretch up as tall as you can pressing a kiss to his eyelids. He almost drops his own, hand tightening on your waist. You sing just for him, lips at his cheek now, and his breath escapes in a long exhale, shaking.

You are his, you are his, you are his.

When his heart wavers, yours is there, keeping it beating, in time to a song only you can hear.

He is yours, he is yours, he is yours.

“I just want you to know who I am.”

He lifts you into his arms, and he sings with you, game forgotten because it doesn’t matter. Nothing else matters. If you are happy, he is happy, and he is so very happy with you in his arms.

If he wakes up tomorrow and you are not here, he will find you anywhere. He has done it before, and he will do it for the rest of time, because you are the one who sees him.

And later, when you are laughing and stumbling through his bedroom door, trying to pull away from the uncontrolled kisses he plants on your skin, tickling you and nipping, he will swear into your skin that he will always see you too.

Whoever you choose to be.

[front-facing-pokemon]

[thecrowsart]

👁️🦎🎯

(crops under cut)

[thedogslegart]

It's been Jack thoughts for some time now....

[scoliosisgoblin]

Which version of Rick is your fav?

it's so hard for me to choose tbh. HOWEVER, I'd say Evil Rick

then I'd say it's C-137 and Memory Rick

I love how pathetic™ Evil Rick really is tbh. love that he's being controlled by his Morty. can you guess who my favorite Morty is?

[hooved]

i really hate when cis men call me handsome. you do NOT fucking mean that

[dykedvonte]

I dislike takes that Danse would be just as conservative in modernized aus when it's clearly shown his staunch views of things come from his time in the Brotherhood and his deep-rooted desire to belong to something with a greater purpose.

Not to mention lines that show much more open-mindedness that get overlooked for his harsher sentiments when you first meet him. Like the oppurtunity to be a part of something is why Danse fell so far into Brotherhood dogma and it doesn't negate the offense things he does but I feel like it's just lazy to be like "hmmm he'd def be racist" just so it aligns to his BoS beliefs.

[stephantom]

The debilitating sacroiliac joint paint has abated but the heartburn and indigestion is back with a vengeance. The charley horses have at least been few and far between. I don’t even notice the TMJ anymore. Still not sleeping well. Still peeing a little bit when I sneeze or cough sometimes.

Third trimester, baby.

[whirlwindsworld]

I just keep seeing this image of Fabian in my head. This young man who so desperately seek affection and happily soaks up praise–

Standing in a massive empty house. Wandering from room to room. There’s so many rooms. Quietly drinking his milk from a glass he hunted down. He puts himself to bed. This will be the next year of his life.

He’s 18 and he just saved the world. He’s 18 and he killed his father. He’s 18 and he’s so tired. He’s 18 and maybe he deserves a long proper hug from his mom. He’s 18 and he needs to keep smiling as she leaves. (It barely feels like she was here.) He’s 18 and he’s writing his name on the face of the world. He’s 18 and his father would be proud of everything he had done in lieu of his summer vacation. (It’s not what he was worried about.) He’s 18 and he’s his father’s son. He’s 18 and he is his own man. (He was meant to be his mother’s son too.)

He’s 18 and of course none of it hurt. (She said she would start doing better.)

[fru1tt0ast]

dear followers, today i offer you old man yaoi

tomorrow? who knows

[gaybearwedding]

so clark and bryce were definitely flirting with each other at every single cornhole competition they went to right

[savage-rhi]

😭😂