Cosmic Funnies
RMH
Xuebing Du
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Origami Around
shark vs the universe
Mike Driver
Love Begins
Keni
🪼
No title available
almost home
No title available
if i look back, i am lost
KIROKAZE
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
No title available
occasionally subtle
Monterey Bay Aquarium
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from TĂĽrkiye
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Belgium
seen from Malaysia
seen from TĂĽrkiye
seen from Mongolia
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from France
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Belarus
@dearestrevenantarchive
Indie Fallout 4 OC; Rick Sanchez || Past affiliation: US Army, Vault Tech || Present Affiliation:...
This blog has moved to a main account.
isn’t that just great? Follow the old url again so Rick can bug the shit out of you guys. I’ll try to follow back from his old list.
I’ll be transferring threads when I get to replying, so no worries there friends...
Indie Fallout 4 OC; Rick Sanchez || Past affiliation: US Army, Vault Tech || Present Affiliation:...
This blog has moved to a main account.
isn’t that just great? Follow the old url again so Rick can bug the shit out of you guys. I’ll try to follow back from his old list.
sugardollcrash replied to your post
"I heard being ugly is painful, maybe that's why. You should know."
“Yeah, I’m the ugliest around, on the inside. Thanks for reminding me, babe.”
Heard you're a filthy ghoulfucker, confirm or deny
“Shut the fuck up Abner!”
Put a rumor you heard about my muse in my ask and they'll confirm or deny it.
"Lighten up, Richie."
"I... Never. Gave you permission to call me that. How dare you."
"How about I call you Dick? Boy, do I love that one. I could say it for days- what do you think? :)"
“For the love of God, do not call me Dick.”
“I will not even look at you if you call me Dick.”
"Hey Rick, ya don't mind if I call ya Richard? It's got a lovely twang to the sound of it..."
He let out a small... weak sigh.
“I would really prefer to be called Rick. Rick is perfectly fine, I’d like to keep it that way.”
You know what’s fun to write? Healthy relationships.Â
I don’t mean in the sense that healthy relationships are important to portray in fiction–no, I mean, they’re actually enjoyable to scribble down. Think of these examples:
A and B kicking ass together 👍
A and B believing in and listening to each other 👍
A and B communicating their problems (doubles as good scene-setting to further explore the characters’ reactions to stress) 👍
Makeout sessions 👍
Quick kisses that makes one/both smile 👍
One swearing to protect the other and then doing it 👍
A and B both contributing to the other’s character development in sweet and positive ways 👍
One recognizing the other’s faults but not letting the knowledge overshadow why they love their partner 👍
One doing something nice for the other, even if it’s in the middle of a battle for the fate of the world 👍
A and B overcoming all the torture you throw at them but never losing their friendship and sense of peace when they’re together 👍
and more
There’s something to writing unhealthy relationships, in the sense of drama and conflict, but there’s no reason a healthy one can’t have drama and conflict while the characters still work to make their partner happy. There’s also something to not throwing unneeded drama and conflict at them, allowing them to interact with themselves and the story in positive ways. Honestly, it’s refreshing and puts a smile on your face (or, at least it puts one on mine). It shows everyone else what the characters prioritize: a healthy dynamic with the person they care about most. It doesn’t have to be boring.
(Also applies to non-monogamous and platonic relationships.)
My BEST posts of 2017
My BEST posts of 2017
December ♥ 2
November ♥ 4
October ♥ 6
September ♥ 8
August ♥ 15
July ♥ 5
Generated using the
best of tumblr
tool.
sugardollcrash:
She gave him a small, quick smirk at his comment, though didn’t say much else before they entered the cafe together.
Inside, she stood quietly alongside Rick while they picked out their respective mid-morning snacks. Skye went for a orange-colored teacake, baked with some assortment of citrus fruits, a mug of black coffee, and an entire handful of artificial sweeteners. From her own pocket she threw a few caps onto the counter, grabbing two copies of what looked like a local comic book being sold, and a some bits of shredded brahmin meat for Lollipop and Mortimer to chew on. With a loaded tray she slipped into a tall lawn chair, which creaked in protest against the sudden weight. Reaching for the comics, Skye slid the extra issue to Rick without saying much about it, though it was meant to be taken as a friendly gesture; a small trade for the meal he was giving her. Tearing into the small packets of sweetener, she began to unload them one by one into her coffee, coming to about four heaps until Rick started talking again. Looking up, she flashed him another smirk, grabbing a small bent spoon to stir in her mountain of sugar substitute. “Aside running into you? Nothing great,” she replied, playfully agreeing with his jest. “Work, mostly. Boring shit.” Using a free hand, she scooped up the scraps of meat and placed them onto the floor by her boots for the animals, which gave her a few seconds to consider what she wanted to say next. Almost hesitantly, she looked back over at Rick, and added, “I’m thinking about trying to buy out a room at the Rexford soon, though.”
Rick gave the comic a quick squint, there was something strangely familiar about this issue and it wasn't because it was a comic book. The cover had an illustration of a man wearing a familiar blue outfit, the title read 'Adventures of the Lone Wanderer'. He only flipped through a few pages before closing it and placing the comic on his lap... it was about a Vault Dweller. Instead he'd turn his attention back to Skye in time to hear her mention the hotel.
“Oh, that's exciting.” he offered with a smile before he took a bite out of his muffin. A quick glance near his feet and he saw that Mortimer had begun playing with these meat bits as oppose to eating them, Rick shook his head briefly at the sight of the cat pawing and biting at them much like a cat might toy with a mouse before the kill.   “We'll be neighbors.” Rick added, but left out the stating that he didn't actually knew where she stayed outside of Goodneighbor, but he seemed generally happy to know that she wanted to live here regardless. “Then, ah, you know- you can come over to my place sometime and we can...” then he gestured vaguely with one hand between them, “We can do stuff like this more often.”
“Maybe seeing you more often means... I'll worry about you less.” then he brought his mug up toward his lips and took a long sip from his tea, as if a means to silence himself, most of what he'd said had been sheepishly spoken at best. Rick always seemed quiet during one on one conversations and he didn't speak much at all in groups unless there was someone around to bounce banter with- or he was drunk or high. No, he seemed more sober lately and not has bad as he had been a year ago; finally living in a settlement may have been good for his health after all, at least he didn't look as sickly and strung out as he did when he and Skye first met.
Valen Hart: A series of Encounters - Part 1 of 3
June, 2288
Rick was on his way back toward the city limits of Boston. He had spent the day hiking out to the old vault from which he came, it was tucked away in a small suburban district, a modest two-story home was it's front. The backyard was the point of interest for this visitation, that's where Diane was laid to rest and he had meant to gather her some nice artificial flowers to leave next to her grave marker...
He arrived early in the morning and spent a couple hours sitting in the grass under the shade of large ginkgo tree. It was difficult talking to her without shedding tears or his voice cracking, but he managed as best as he could until noon hit and decided it was time to leave. The walk back felt shorter, as if his spirit had been lifted and the burdens of his guilt were less heavy, even just for a short while.
The thoughtful quietness of his mind was interrupted by the sight of a small camp at the edge of a clearing near a wooded area. Already he had stumbled too near to avoid it all together, so he reached for his pistol as he cautiously approached. There was a fire pit and a small tent pitched, but he couldn't get a glimpse of a person anywhere.
If only he were vigilant enough of his footing to have noticed where he was stepping because he didn't realize what a mess he'd walk into until he nearly slipped. Fortunately, he caught himself instead of stumbling comically to the ground and looked down to see he had planted his foot into a pile of... meat? His face morphed into a grimace as he stepped back and attempted to scrape off the gore from the bottom of his sneaker. It looked like a hefty pile of organs, a couple of livers were distinguishable among intestines and other bits and pieces.
Then there was a voice, how cheery it sounded, “Well Howdy,” Rick was kindly greeted. As his head shot up and his eyes focused on the figure only feet away, he wondered where the hell he came from.
This stranger wore a thin-lipped smile that pushed creases around the dimples in his cheeks, those eyes were bright and just as expressive. His hair was short on the sides, long and neatly slicked back on top. Shirtless and lightly tanned but his body language was open and nonthreatening. In his hands was a hunting knife, which he was wiping with a dark cloth before it disappeared into a sheath clipped to his belt.
“You one of them vault dwellers?” he asked, curious, and that southern-like accent was more apparent, a quality that somehow added to his friendly disposition. Rick quickly glanced down at himself before he looked up again as if he had forgotten for a moment that he was wearing that blue jumpsuit.
“Yeah, I came from a vault,” Rick answered, and his posture relaxed as did his grip on his pistol which he pushed back into its holster. He didn't see any kind of gun on this camper, yet, but he figured if he wanted to pull a fast one his own weapon wasn't far from his reach.
“You look tired,” the other man added, and he stepped forward, still a smile, now with a bare hand extended for a greeting. “Name's Valen Hart- I was just cookin up some breakfast, I... oh.” Then he noticed the pile Rick had stepped into and let out a weak chuckle.
“Oh, sorry 'bout that... usually, I bury the offal but guess I got lazy.” he sheepishly confessed. “Got a name?” he added gently.Â
“Rick. Sanchez.” he offered simply and took Valen's hand to shake firmly but briefly.
Finally being offered a name, that smile on Valen's face puckered just a little more before he relaxed, he looked quite pleased. “If ya ain't in a hurry, I'd be glad ta serve you up a meal before you head out on yer way- caught a few too many hares overnight and while I certainly can eat them all myself, I'm quite inclined to share with another hungry man...”
The offer of a free meal was enticing, but Rick had this nagging feeling- no meal was ever free. Oh, but the aromas drifting from the fire pit just yards away was terribly tempting and Valen's hopeful gaze was inviting Rick to join him at his humble little camp.
He supposed eating small game animals with such a perky fellow wouldn't be harmful, so he nodded and followed his lead. “Sure, I'm hungry after all that walking.”
Now, here came the excited rambling...
“Thank goodness!” he exclaimed vivaciously, “I'd been out here for days and hadn't seen a soul! Was worried I'd have to head back into town just for a little human contact but here the Lord sent someone to share breakfast with. You believe in God, Ricky? Well, no matter- I ain't here to preach but I'll certainly ramble about my blessings, so feel free to let me know if it makes you uncomfortable 'cause I'll tone it down but boy am I excited to feed a handsome man like yourself-
“Oh! I sure hope you ain't the bashful type? I like to compliment people, don't seem to be enough nice things people say to one another these days, I tell ya...”
Rick could barely process all Valen was saying by the time they walked over to the firepit at his campsite, but his host was gracious enough to guide his vault suit toting guest to sit on a fallen log as a seat. Valen then shuffled over to a cooking pot balanced on a bed of hot stones at the edge of the fire and dished out what looked like a stew into a wooden bowl. As he dropped a spoon into the vessel and handed it to Rick, he never skipped a beat...
“Came from the Mojave, mind you- spent a lotta time in New Vegas 'cause the desert can be quite a wild place. 'Fraid the east ain't much different, but the scenery sure is prettier...” Then he trailed off, noticing that Rick was patiently watching him with that bowl nested in his hands. Rick may have felt a little awkward but Valen's gaze grew distant, almost dreamy as his eyes wandered across Rick's features.
Finally, Rick interrupted the silence with a question. “What are you doing out here by yourself?”
Valen's eyes fluttered, blinking his daze away. “Oh, well... Just huntin really,” he admitted. “Figured, why buy meat when there's plenty out here in the woods to harvest for myself- without paying a cap.”
“What do you usually hunt?” Rick inquired as he turned his attention to his bowl and began stirring the meat and vegetables with the spoon.
“Oh... mostly small game- those critters that I can nab with a trap and a snare. Ain't got a gun, never spent a cap on one, so larger game just ain't on the menu.”
“This isn't too bad.” Rick complimented after he had taken in a mouthful of the stew. With his hands on his hips, Valen offered a proud nod of acknowledgment.
“Made with love.” Valen stated quietly. “There's more where that came from.”
a reply for @sugardollcrash
Hancock was always encouraging Rick to be more... social. Honestly, if he wasn't nudging him he was probably doing it to Fahrenheit, what a pest. With just some Mentats in his system and hardly any alcohol in his blood it was difficult to find that motivation to engage other people. Rick hadn't realized how long he'd been standing there until he was blind sighted by a familiar.
Lucky it was Skye, otherwise, he most certainly would have resisted against the pull of her hands. That lost look on his face disappeared and warmed into a smile once he processed the entire situation. It wasn't a fib, her mention of saving him from worse, at least he knew her enough that a kiss was more than welcomed- others in this place were less than desirable.
“You're too good to me.” he replied with a noticeable warmth in his voice. Then he decided he might as well reciprocate the gesture, but slid his hand to take one of hers and brought it up to gingerly cradle as he laid a kiss on the peak of her knuckles.
“I'm glad you're here,” he added, “I was worried I was going to miss you.”
Lately, it seems Rick has been weaning himself from wearing that old vault suit. He had meant to throw it away a while ago, but some thick layer of guilt coats his heart when he makes plans to toss the thing. At some point, he figures, he'll have the courage to roll it up and toss it into one of the barrel fires that dot the street corners in Goodneighbor, but until then it makes for a warm layer to wear under other clothes during the winter when he has to make his trips out to Diamond City.
