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well...

@ripdumpy / ripdumpy.tumblr.com

borderlambs sideblog indiscriminately n/sfw, mostly rhack, you know the drill. also hi, i love you i draw(/scribble) and write! sometimes. feel free to request stuff but i can be kind of a flake so a) i'm sorry and b) be chill. ♥ about
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I’m trying to figure out what horrible sequence of events lead us to Rhys’s Look and this is what I’ve come up with:

He thought he needed a new look but was tragically incorrect. RIP asymmetrical pinstripes

He doesn’t usually dress like that it’s just that he fell asleep at his desk for the third night in a row. He just has really fast-growing lip hair

He decided he needed to look more “pandoran” and only had Felix and August as references for men’s fashion

He was tired of getting mugged for looking slick so he downgraded his look

He knew he was making everyone around him look worse by comparison so he made the ultimate sacrifice

He finally has the ability to wear comfy clothes for once because on pandora wearing a shirt counts as business casual

He admitted to himself that wearing a black three piece suit on a barren desert planet wasn’t the most practical choice

He is hiding from all the people who know he crashed Helios, killing thousands of people. He thinks the mustache throws the Hyperions off the scent and he is correct.

He got jealous of Vaughn’s killer beard. His whole facial hair situation is a work in progress

He’s full of spite and stupidity and remembers that Jack hates facial hair. He’s wearing mushroom-patterned underoos

He got sick of people referring to him as “The Twinkiest CEO Currently Alive”

He was tired of looking in the mirror with the high cheekbones and the yellow eye and seeing Jack

His fashion sense is canonically /pretty bad/

Sometimes you have a mid life crisis at the age of 27 after being whisked away in an alien Vault and that’s okay

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I am hoping and praying that Amara is our first trans female siren, but aside from that, what new character has caught your eye in the trailer?

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DANG. that’d be rad, i’ve always wondered about how transness can link up with siren lore, i’d love to hear anything about it from canon.

also i’m like, 10000% invested in flak the beastmaster already, oh my GOD. seriously. i’ve loved all these games and the protags i went with (mordecai-zer0-gaige-timothy) but i haven’t been this immediately smitten with my choice since… literally mordecai. i mean, robo-hobo mechdruid beastmaster? i’m big gay for that robot and i barely know him. it’s like gearbox knew i’d been having a rough go of it lately and just dropped a truly amazing boy right into my waiting gay hands. i’m thrilled. :D

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[reappears from the depths of my cave] did i ever tell y’all that i wrote like 1.5k of bootlicking? it’s totally not done but i wanted to share some of what i had. :,)

Jack is quiet and Rhys loses himself in the work a little bit, slouching enough under the desk that his neck only protests when he thinks about it. There’s something comforting about it all, pulling Jack’s boots together with his bare hands, an unspoken respect in Jack - well, not kicking him, for one, but the more subtle regard of him not making it into more of a scummy, power-trip service than Rhys had been asked for.

The smell of the polish is starting to make his head feel stuffy, especially cooped up in the nook under the desk, but it’s not the worst feeling in the world. It feels the way tart licorice tastes, like how the runoff from a gassed engine makes him lightheaded.

“You know your stuff,” Jack comments, distracted - it’s the first time he’s spoken up in a while, neck-deep in a new project or ten.

Rhys uses his slightly too-long thumbnail to pick a fleck of - something - out from one of the eyelets close to Jack’s toes, freeing it from the lace and flicking it off to the side. “My mother was an engineer,” he murmurs, not bothering to lie. “She said blacking the boots made them last longer, so I guess I, kinda grew up around this stuff.”

“Ah. You pop out the womb with all the cybernetics, then? I was wondering when that’d come up.”

Rhys snorts, then wipes at his nose. “Nnah, these are more recent.” He pauses in his ministrations with Jack’s left foot. “The arm I built myself. Eye was uh, a graduation gift.” From himself, but whatever. He was allowed. Hyperion’s a far cry from waiting tables.

“Cool,” Jack says dismissively, sounding bored out of his skull, and prickly. “Anyway, do me a favor and never bring up your mother while looking at my dick ever again.”

Rhys frowns, indignant, and flexes Jack’s foot back, knuckling the shank with his prosthetic hand to push it just barely up against the arch of his bare foot inside.

“You’re the one who brought it up,” Rhys insists. He doesn’t deny shit. “You made it weird, not me.”

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Sleeping on the Blacktop

Gen, Rhys x Handsome Jack (kind of)

(2410 words, SFW, Western AU, Angst (?), Mentions of Graphic Violence, Power Dynamics)

[ao3]

A/N: I wrote something? I had to actually go look at my own blog to see how I format these posts because I forgot. But it’s done! And I actually still kind of like it. This AU has wormed its way into my heart a bit, and I’d like to write the actual beginning - because this comes in somewhere in the middle of the whole arc I have planned in my head, which is why there might be some references that don’t make total sense.

Anyways, thanks for reading! Enjoy!

Rhys has thought about shooting Jack more than once.

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gongors
(reg·i·cide noun the action of killing a king)
anonymous said: more atlas ceo rhys, with jack being forced to kiss/lick rhys’s boots…

so I didn’t actually draw the request, but the lead up is close enough right???

anyway, transcript under the cut if you can’t read my shitty writing

also!!! this isn’t canon to my AU, just a bit of fun

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