toskarin:

kitten I’m gonna be honest, daddy was kind of a construct existing largely in the form of your gestalt memories of several different people, so he may not exist as an individual in the way you had previously assumed, if such a person ever truly existed at all

black dresses by the builders and the butchers is such a tex song it drives me crazy

redmau5:

one of my favorite pass times is smashing two rvb characters together and seeing what would happen because the result is never not funny. anyway heres our ideas on simmons x church

michillangelo:

Trying out a flat brush for the 1st time and holy shit holy shit 👌🔥👌🔥👌🔥 this is so fuckin nice

thought-42:

But what if if some universe sad hobo York and sad mercenary Tex being occasional pals, the kind who meet up in shitty bars and on run down street corners in dingy cities to sit silently together in a cloud of cigarette smoke and carolina-related angst. They have entirely unremarkable sex in a cheap hotel and the only reason they decide against a repeat performance is the embarrassment when they go to get dressed and manage to mix up their battered second-hand black leather jackets. Delta and Omega mostly hate each other but there’s a shared understanding of the exasperation that comes with living in the head of someone with a steady self-narrating inner monologue straight out of any terrible noir film.
Tex drags York to the free clinic when he’s got fever so bad he’s hallucinating, and York spends five hours on the radio with tex talking her down out of a recursive logic spiral panic attack the first time she gets shot and there’s just a mess of wires under her skin.
They work the same construction job for two weeks until the casual banter stops being banter and starts being the precursor to a fist fight.
They try not to talk about the past, which doesn’t really leave much. Tex tells him about cars and York tells her about codes and puzzles and computers and coffee. They don’t talk about the way she throws herself into dangerous situations like she’s waiting for someone to tell her to stop in the same way they don’t talk about the way York wraps one hand around his other wrist and squeezes whenever he’s feeling anxious. Carolina’s gone, nobody wants to play ‘is it better to know what you’re missing’.
York knows Tex kills people. He tries not to think about it, which is easier than it should be. She asks why he’s not living the high life, glamorous art thief seems right up his alley, but he doesn’t know how to explain the constant exhaustion that drags at his limbs, or the way parts of his mind are in a constant state of flux –AI/human integration has never been accomplished at the level he and D are falling towards, and he’s pretty sure there’s a  physical toll– not to mention the creeping fog of the drugs the healing unit pumps into his body in the background. He thinks there’s a lot of stuff she doesn’t know how to explain, either, has seen the way the artificial skin is torn up around the AI port at the base of her skull, never comments when she puts a fist through a wall or buys a drink and doesn’t touch it.

churboose:

chexboose doodle for my buddy lorettafryingpan

michillangelo:

My @redvsbluesecretsanta for @cobaltqueen. Your “tex acting as juniors godfather” prompt was EXACTLY my jam! Happy holidays!! 

Some sort of vaguely Mandalorian-esque AU where Tex has to track down Tucker to return Junior, all while trying to dodge the UNSC, avoid freelancer-related foes, and take care of a very precocious alien child. 

powerfulpomegranate:

It took Epsilon so long to decrypt that Ship Manifest because there was a captcha on it.