#( gray* lmao whoops )

[angelcake10023]

Tang Reference Sheet for the Curious George AU ✨

This is the look he settles for after the events of the main story… which might be expanding past their preconceived boundaries lmao

MK should be next : )

[zannies-joestar-hut]

merl mei qi gets better with every appearance

[heartshapedmisery]

𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 | jon snow

summary ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ in which jon wanders too far north of the wall into free folk territory and is put under your supervision, mance rayder's daughter, after your voluntary offer of him staying in your tent. you never thought you would be willing to bunk with a crow, but of course, there's a first for everything.

warnings ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖  MINORS DNI ! ( 18+ ) | language, graphic smut, unprotected sex ( wrap it before u tap it y'all ), inexperienced!jon, reader taking jon's virginity, little bit of subby!jon, riding, handjob, mentions of blood ( reader bites jon's lip on accident whoops ), oral ( f! recieving ), jon having a praise k!nk, jon having literally no self-control, reader calling jon a crow about a thousand times lmao, minimal use of Y/N, lmk if i missed anything!

word count ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ 3k +

pairing ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ jon snow x fem!rayder!reader.

author’s note ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖  jon snow is so babygirl

honestly loved writing this, lmk what you think! also, should i make a part two with ygritte involved ?? wink wink

publishing date ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖  june 26th, 2023 | © HEARTSHAPEDMISERY

When you first saw the darkness of his furs sticking out so flamboyantly against the white of the northern snow, you knew Ygritte had struck gold on her hunt with the others.

You watched with a cautious but intrigued look on your face as she pulled him along behind her by a long rope tied around his hands, cradling a longsword in the crook of her arm with a wide smile on her face. But, the look on the crow's face seemed to be the total opposite.

Everything about him was dark, from his ratted furs to his hair that looked like it hadn't been given a good wash in ages, to even the disgruntled frown that didn't seem to leave his face until Ygritte finally untied him from his restraints. He was a crow, through and through.

You had seen plenty men of the Night's Watch before―even killed a few―but the one who stood before you as you made your way into your father's council tent was different. His eyes were a deep, darling brown, holding a youth that couldn't have been any older than your own. Most of the crows you had captured were all old and gray, not nearly as attractive and brooding as this one.

You didn't know there was such a thing.

"Where'd you find this one?" you whispered to Ygritte, your voice low enough for only her ears, your eyes raking over his figure that seemed disproportioned from the thick of the furs and leathers he wore.

"About a few miles north of the wall," she told you, watching him just as closely as you were. "He was just too pretty to pass up." The two of you shared a laugh as she handed you the young crow's sword, heavy and dull in its scabbard.

The Lord of Bones pushed him roughly towards the man sitting in the center of the tent, biting into a hunk of meat as if it were his last meal.

"I smell a crow," Tormund muffled with his mouth full, turning his head barely enough to get a good look at the young man. His scowl hadn't changed, if anything worsened since being shoved into the large tent.

His name had been Jon Snow, which he revealed to Tormund just before kneeling before him and muttering your grace. The entire tent seemed to bustle with laughter at the attempt of respect, you and Ygritte sending each other a knowing look as the crow's face reddened with embarrassment. Tormund may have looked and fought like one, but he was no king.

"Stand boy," a voice hidden in the back of the tent sounded, silencing everyone in the room within a matter of seconds. Your father, Mance Rayder, unveiled himself from the shadowy corner room behind Tormund, looking down upon Jon Snow as he stood.

Jon was quick to rise to his feet, looking up at him as the man stood taller than even Tormund. "We don't kneel for anyone beyond the wall."

Slowly, you moved towards your father from Ygritte's side, resting your hands on the hilt of the crow's sword as you allowed it to stand in front of you. Your father always valued your opinion when coming to decisions over the free folk, and this matter was no different.

Your eyes had hardened by now, catching Jon's gaze with a look that could only be interpreted as defensive. No matter how pretty you thought he was, he was still a man of the Night's watch. Your enemy infiltrating your land.

You watched him carefully as he went on to explain why he had left the Night's Watch, telling your father about the things he had seen in Craster's Keep.

"And why would that make you want to abandon your brothers?" Mance asked, his voice low and gravelly. His words seemed to intimidate the young man, his eyes flitting away from your father's before moving back to them hesitantly.

"Answer the question," you growled, leaning in towards him with a malice that couldn't help but send a chill down his spine. His eyes shot to yours, wondering why you were making such commands in the presence of Mance Rayder.

He explained how the Night's Watch did nothing to prevent Craster from giving up his newborn son to the white walkers, creatures that had been known to be gone for centuries.

"I want to fight for the side that fights for the living," he told your father, sparing you only a quick look as you stepped back to Mance's side. "Did I come to the right place?"

Mance mulled over the boy's words before looking down at you, the look on his face clear that he wanted your opinion. "What do you say, girl? Shall the baby crow stay?"

As you held his sword close to your chest, you stepped closer to Jon, your face inches from his as you gave him a good look over. He seemed nervous, his breathy shaky as it blew past his lips.

"I say he can," you paused, circling around him before meeting his gaze once more with a sly smrik on your lips. "But he stays with me."

He didn't speak much to you at first―or anyone really―only saying a few words when needed to and biting his tongue when you made some snide remark or called him a crow.

Since you had taken the responsibility of monitoring him, you practically stuck to Jon like glue until nightfall―as did many other girls in your camp, including Ygritte. She was an exception, but you had to keep running the rest of them off since their eagerness to catch a glimpse of him drove them to fights and quarrels in the snow.

Not to degrade any of the people in your camp, but men that looked like Jon Snow were not a common sight in free folk territory.

After showing him around the camp and getting him a new set of furs made of polar bear skin and boiled leather, you eventually gave him Longclaw back―which was what he called that heavy sword of his. He was grateful, but his disgruntled frown hardly left his face.

"Lose the frown, Jon Snow," you had told him as he joined you and Ygritte for dinner around the fire you had built near your tent. "You're not in the South anymore. There's no need to look so miserable."

When nightfall finally took the sky, you escorted Jon to your tent with a mischievous smirk on your face, earning looks from other wilding girls―most of them being of annoyance or jealousy. Their glares didn't go unnoticed by Jon, a look of confusion and concern evident on his face.

"Are they always like this?" he asked sheepishly, looking over his shoulder as the two of you stood still in front of the flaps of your tent.

You couldn't help but laugh, the scowls on their faces feral and sour as you led him into your tent.

"You're the first pretty crow they've seen in ages, Jon Snow," you told him with a grin. "They'll claw each other's eyes out to lay naked with you."

Your words seemed to surprise him, but he didn't say anything as a reddish tint rose in his cheeks. He had never been with a girl, he was too young before he joined The Watch, and his vows forbade him from lying with a woman. He had never gotten the chance, so the idea couldn't help but intrigue him.

"Your furs are over there," you pointed to the makeshift bed across from yours, "Though I know you'll be far much warmer over here with me."

He disregarded your comment, silent as he made his way over to his side of the tent and tried not to think too hard about laying with you.

It wasn't a large tent, your furs only a mere few feet from his. You still laid rather close despite being on separate sides.

Beginning to undo your outer layers and shedding them off, you were left in only a thin undershirt and pants that barely left anything to the imagination as you sat across from him.

Jon's eyes widened.

You could feel his eyes on you, his cheeks flushed at the sight of your hardened nipples poking through the fabric as you reached over to light a few candles between the two of you to brighten up the tent. He felt a sting of guilt run through his chest; he didn't want to betray his vows, or even think about betraying them, but you were making it very difficult for him to abstain on his side of the tent.

"What, have you never seen a woman's body before, crow?" you said playfully as you undid your hair from the braid it had been pulled back in all day, tousling it with your tired fingers to get ready for bed.

Jon only widened his eyes, gulping rather harshly as his lips parted, catching your eyes that seemed to be filled with nothing but seduction.

"What do you care?" he looked away, the tension too much for him to bare. His cheeks were flaming red at this point, embarrassment flaring in his chest. He could feel his hard-on begin to grow under his thick trousers, hoping to the Old Gods you couldn't see.

"Oh, right," you said sarcastically. "The Night's Watch will hack your hand off if you even think about touching a woman, is that right? Miserable bastards."

Jon tried to protest, his words caught dead in his mouth as you cut him off abruptly.

"Have you ever laid with a woman, Jon Snow?" you asked lowly, sitting up from your spot on your warm furs before slowly starting to crawl over to him, sultry laced thickly in your voice.

He shook his head, his eyes wide and blown out with lust. You were dangerously close to him, sitting down in front of him with your legs tucked neatly beneath you as you leaned in towards him.

"Do you want to?" you said slyly, your lips inches from his.

Your hand slowly reached out for his, grasping it gently before bringing it to your breast and allowing him to cup it. A shaky sigh blew past his plump lips, his gaze flitting down to your chest as he rubbed the pad of his thumb over your sensitive nipple gently.

The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could even think. Before he could remember the vow that he had made not long ago. Your sweet scent of firewood and pine was like truth serum to his senses. "More than anything."

His gentle, pleading words were enough for you to bring your lips to his, enveloping in the taste of him as you moved swiftly onto his lap, lips moving in sync hungrily as if he would be your last.

His arms tightened around your waist, pulling you flush against his hard chest. As you lowered your hips down onto his lap, you could feel him hard against your core, making you gasp in surprise.

You laughed gently under your breath in excitement as his eyes fluttered shut, not being able to help yourself as you began to slowly grind against him, earning a low and shaky whimper from his throat.

It was like music to your ears; his soft whimpers and pants. When you had been with other wildling men, they grunted and groaned as they worked their way in and out of you, almost animalistic. Jon was different.

"Do you like it when I do this?" You cooed in his ear. His moans were soft and desperate as he yearned for more of your touch, his hands gentle and needy as they grasped at your hips and worked you across his lap slowly.

He had no idea how much of an effect it had on you. How his exasperated pants made something foreign blossom in your chest and spread down to your lower half.

"Please," he begged as he pulled away from your lips, looking up at you with an adoration you had never seen from any free folk. You had him wrapped around your finger, drunk on your warm touch. Nothing could've riled you up more.

"You can have me however you want," you promised him, tucking a stray piece of hair behind his ear. Slowly, you pulled your undershirt off over your head before wriggling out of your thin pants, leaving your body bare and on display for him. "You're mine now, Jon Snow."

Your hand traveled down slowly between your bodies, running over the front of his trousers and cupping his hard-on, dancing your fingers across it tauntingly. "But first, let me help you with this."

Your fingers quickly worked at the ties at his trousers, pulling it open and helping him get rid of them before assisting him in removing his heavy furs and leathers and throwing them to the side, leaving him bare and warm beneath you, his pale, toned skin burning against your own.

Carefully, you sat back down on his lap, sitting at the edge of his knees so you could get a good look at him splayed out before you. Excitement buzzed in your chest at the sight of his reddened tip, leaking with precum practically begging to be touched.

With a soft look, your hand grasped his hardened cock gently, making him shudder at the sudden contact.

The feeling was foreign to him; Sure, he had used his own hand once or twice to relieve himself when he was feeling desperate, but his calloused and thick hands didn't compare to your small, soft, and experienced ones as you began to pump him gently.

"O-Oh," he sighed, his eyes fluttering shut as you rubbed him carefully, allowing your forehead to press gently to his. You could feel his soft, warm pants fanning against your face, gentle moans falling from his lips every so often.

"You're so good for me," you whispered to him, your thumb running over the slit at the head of his cock, earning a shaky gasp from him. Your lips peppered kisses against his, before moving slowly to his cheeks and working your way down his jaw tauntingly.

The feeling of your lips leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses along the skin of his neck and collarbone made him ecstatic. He didn't know what he had done to earn such a heavenly gift from the gods, but he knew he never wanted this to end. He never wanted to be without your touch.

"F-Fuck," he whined, entranced by the look of desire in your eyes as you rubbed him.

His toned stomach contracted gently, his abs tensing as he inched closer and closer to his release. His moans became more guttural, incoherent mumbles to the sound of your name filling your ears.

"I'm g-gonna-" he warned, his eyes fluttering shut. But, before he could finish his sentence, hot, white spurts of his release shot onto his stomach, painting him sinfully as a shaky groan rumbled in his chest in response. It lit something inside you, the way he trembled beneath your touch and moaned your name as if it were a prayer. You could drown in it.

Carefully, you reached for the undershirt you had thrown off and wiped his stomach clean, not caring you had dirtied it and would have to wash it by hand on the morrow.

A calm silence fell between you, allowing his forehead to fall to the crook of your neck as his hands snaked around your waist, pulling your chest flush against his. Your warmth was something he wanted to live in forever. He never wanted to leave this tent.

"You're so-" he mumbled against your skin, his breath faltering as he tried to find the right words. "You're so good at that."

You couldn't help but blush. The way he worshipped you made you ecstatic, your hands raking through his dark curls as you tilted his head up to look at you.

"Can I kiss you?" he rasped. His eyes were full of want, his eyebrows pulling together slightly as he pawed at the flesh of your thigh. Carefully, you moved to bring your lips to his with a wide grin but he stopped you, pulling his head to the side tauntingly.

He shook his head gently. "Not there."

You didn't understand what he meant. Kiss you where?

Cautiously, he pulled you off of his lap and laid you down on the soft furs, his body hovering over yours as he slotted himself in between your legs.

He began to make his way down your body with gentle kisses, nipping at your supple skin as he trailed from the crook of your neck to all the way down between your plush thighs, leaving little love bites in the wake of his mouth as he inched dangerously close to where you needed him most.

"Getting brave, aren't we?" you taunt, his hands moving to tuck your legs onto his shoulders before he gripped your hips with both of his hands firmly, holding you in place as you could feel his warm breath fanning against your glistening core.

He ignored your snide remark, wasting no time before licking a clean stripe against your cunt and beginning to work away at you, his eyes fluttering shut at the sound of your euphoric moans.

Your face contorted with pleasure as you felt his lips wrap around your clit, gently sucking at it, before cautiously bringing his middle and ring fingers to your core and allowing them to curl in an upward motion blissfully.

You had never felt anything like this before. The way his tongue moved against your folds made you ecstatic, wondering what they put in the southern water to make him so good at what he was doing.

"J-Jon," you gasped, your fingers combing through his dark locks and giving them a good tug, earning a moan from him as it vibrated against your core and only pushed you closer to your high. Your thighs clenched around his head in an attempt to pull him closer to you, the tip of his nose brushing up against your clit just enough to make you jolt with a shaky gasp.

He enticed moans out of you like never before, licking and sucking at your core in ways you didn't even know were possible. He seemed so skilled for claiming to have never touched a woman before. Could he have been lying to you?

Your eyes practically rolled to the back of your head as you saw his hips begin to grind slowly against the furs as he lapped away at your core, his cock hard once more from the sweet taste of you. Moans grumbled in his chest as he squeezed your thighs tighter, his fingers sure to leave bruises on your supple skin.

The abrupt feeling of his fingers pulling out of your core made you whine. But his tongue entering you was enough to make you see stars, your back arching up off the soft furs as you could feel the tight coil in your stomach begin to snap.

Your wanton moans filled his ears, loud enough to be heard by the rest of the camp, but you didn't care. Your only concern was him and your climax—which wasn't far off.

"Gods!" your heel dug into the middle of his muscular back as you gripped the furs at your side, your orgasm washing over you unlike ever before. Your thighs trembled gently around Jon's head, his mouth pulling away from your core, his chin glistening with your release as he watched you with a lazy smile while you writhed in pleasure before him.

He pulled himself up so he was hovering over you once more, his face a mere few inches from yours as your chest heaved up and down, coming down from your high. Your eyelids felt heavy as he gripped your hip, and the sheer look of lust in his eyes made your lips crash against his hungrily.

You could taste your release on his lips as his tongue slipped into your mouth, not even thinking before wrapping your legs around his waist and flipping him over on the furs, now sitting on his lap as he laid breathlessly beneath you.

You smiled at the way he looked up at you with want, his hands playing with the flesh of your ass impatiently. His hardened cock beneath your wet core made it hard for you to concentrate, but you still managed to roll your hips against his tauntingly.

"Just lay there, sweet. Let me give you what you want," you rasped, your hands splayed flat on his chest as your teasing became nearly unbearable for him.

"Please," he pleaded. "I need to feel you."

Slowly, you brought your hand to grasp him gently, giving him a few pumps before guiding him towards your entrance as you hovered over him, your eyes not leaving his as you sank down onto him.

Relieved moans left your mouths in unison, your cunt stretching around him sweeter than he could imagine. Your warmth made his heart flutter, his hands gripping your hips firmly as he waited for you to move.

Soft whimpers filled the space between you as your hips slowly began to roll across his lap, your nails raking down the front of his toned chest as you fell into a steady pace. His mind was fogged with the sheer sight of you on top of him, finding the gentle bounce of your breasts with every movement entrancing.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he breathed, his head falling back as he screwed his eyes shut, which couldn't help but send a wave of pleasure straight to your core. You couldn't help yourself when your fingers trailed to your clit and began to rub the sensitive bundle of nerves back and forth, clenching around his length with each roll of your hips.

"Gods," he cursed, sitting up from his spot on the soft furs as you still guided your hips back and forth on his cock.

Your arm automatically slung around his broad shoulders as his own pulled you closer to him by your waist while he propped himself up with his free hand, allowing him to thrust up inside of you and reach deeper than before.

The way the tip of his cock just barely brushed your cervix enraptured you. You were finding it very hard to believe that he had never done this before.

"Right there," you panted out, gripping his bare shoulder so hard your fingernails were sure to leave tiny crescent indents in his skin. His pace quickened, slowly becoming more desperate and sloppy as your moans grew with it. You were sure the entire camp could've heard the lot of you by now.

His lips met yours in an instant, a poor attempt on Jon's part at silencing you as best he could. You allowed his tongue to roam your mouth, your fingers collecting at the nape of his neck to hold him closer to you. But to his surprise―with a sudden thrust of his hips―your teeth caught his bottom lip with a moan.

"Ahh," he hissed, the metallic taste of blood collecting at the front of his mouth. He pulled back, panting heavily as the look of lust didn't leave his eyes. Your lips were reddened and wet, and the way your tongue poked out barely to wipe them clean made a low groan rumble in his chest.

Within an instant, he smashed his lips back onto yours, pushing you back so you were laying flat on the furs now with his hips between your legs, his length still inside of you as he wasted no time to begin a steady pace pistoning in and out of you messily.

"Jon!" you moaned, his cock stretching you perfectly with each thrust. His lips attacked at the supple skin of your neck, peppering little love bites trailing down over your collarbone. You could feel him wince between moans against your skin as your nails dug into his back uncontrollably, leaving long, reddened welts along his pale skin.

Your fingers trailed slowly up to his hair, giving it a good tug as you brought his lips to yours. Your movements earned a low grumble in the back of his throat in response, his hips beginning to stutter as he could feel his climax rising.

You weren't far off either, with his sweet, incandescent moans that made the coil in your stomach tighten filling your ears. "Are you gonna come for me, baby?"

A guttural moan ripped through Jon's throat at your soft whispers, unable to form words as he nodded his head breathlessly. You could feel his cock twitch inside of you, his last few thrusts hard and deep before pulling out of you—just enough to send you over the edge of your high.

You swiftly propped yourself up on your elbows, breathless from your climax as he pumped his shaft a few times before releasing himself all over your stomach and chest. His face contorted with pleasure as you watched him with amazement, a sly smirk creeping on your face as he came hard.

A gentle silence fell between the two of you as he caught his breath, moving to lay next to you on the soft furs and wrapping his arm around your waist before pulling you close to his side. His warmth burned against your cheek as you laid your head on his chest, running your fingers lazily across his skin.

"You were right," he whispered against your hair, pressing a kiss to your head as you snuggled your face into the crook of his neck. You smiled against his skin, "How so?"

You lifted your head up, meeting his darling brown eyes as a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"I'm far much warmer with you."

[imastrangeone98]

Homecoming

(A/N: boothill my cyborg my love my life my everything-)

WARNING: fem!reader, SMUT SMUT FRESH OFF THE PLATE MINORS GTFO ILL WHOOP YO BUTTS, probably ooc!boothill but whatever it's fine lmao, his exact birth name isn't known so I didn't put a name for him- if there is one I'll replace it; but I found some X art that called his baby girl "cherry" and I really liked it so I'll use that, and way too much plot as always

"Well, hello there! What'cha lookin' at, sweetie?" You bend down to the little girl's eye level, peeking at where the child's gaze is locked on, then smiling in understanding. "You like those ones? They're moon lilies; they're flowers that are really special!"

"Pe... shal?" the little girl babbles, and you laugh.

"Yes, dear. Special." You pluck one of the flowers, beautiful with light blue petals and golden pollen, and offer it to her. "They mean loyalty, and undying devotion, because they only grow in places they like, and they won't grow anywhere else."

"Loya..." the girl mumbles. You chuckle and pick her up, carefully tucking the flower behind her ear.

"Now, where's your mama? Or your papa? I'm sure they're worried sick about-"

"Cherry! Sweet pea, where ya at?!"

Your ears prick, and the girl giggles and claps at the sound. "Well, I guess we found him."

You maneuver through the crowd until you find the source of the call: a man, tall and lean, with flowing black-and-white hair and piercing gray eyes.

Oh. He's beautiful.

The little girl squeals with delight at the sight of her father, and his head whips towards your direction. He sprints over to you and takes the child in his arms, pressing her close to his chest.

"There ya are, ya little rascal! What'd I tell ya about runnin' off?! Ya had me worried sick!" He kisses her forehead, then looks at you. "Thanks, I would've lost her without ya."

"Of course!" You wave it off, hoping he doesn't notice your hot cheeks. "I will say, she has good taste in flowers! If you'd ever like to buy a bouquet, you should bring her along!"

"Flowers? Oh..." He looks at his daughter, finally noticing the moon lily tucked in her hair. His cheeks flush a bright red. "Aw, man, I'm sorry for the trouble, I can pay for it-"

"Oh, don't worry about it, it's on the house! But I do hope this won't be the last time I see her!" You wave at her, and she giggles.

The man laughs at that. "I'm sure she wouldn't mind." He then stretches out his hand to you. "I'm [???]."

"(Y/N)."

He repeats your name slowly, thoughtfully, then smirks. "Guess I'll be seeing you around, lady."

"I'll be looking forward to it, cowboy."

Your eyes crack open.

Instead of a bustling marketplace, you're in a small shack in the middle of nowhere.

Just a memory.

You rise, body aching with fatigue and heartache, but you force yourself to push it to the side.

There's work to be done. You grab your phone and send a message.

ML: The USB is ready. I'll leave it at the usual place.

BH: ca nt maek it cme her

You stare at the coordinates your contact sent you with a groan.

You don't do face-to-face, too much risk. And the information you collected is time-sensitive; you're not sure if you'll be able to make it to the abandoned planet of Mavorosa in time for it to still be valuable, and your spaceship isn't one meant for such great lengths.

But this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity: Oswaldo Schneider is likely to make an appearance at the upcoming IPC Centennial Gala, and BH has proven themself capable of terminating that sick bastard.

You know you're not strong enough to do it yourself, but BH is. And anyone capable of taking down the son of a bitch who destroyed your home, your planet, your lover, is worthy of your trust.

So you bite your lip and bear it. You'll work something out.

ML: ok. I'll be there tomorrow @ 18:00, don't be late.

BH: k

You roll your eyes. Never mind.

With a heavy sigh, you carefully take out the picture/ only one you have of him. With your little girl in one arm and the other wrapped around your waist, he stares back at you with a grin. Bright, beautiful, alive.

"Don't worry, darling," you whisper, tracing the lines of his cheek and hair on the photograph. "We're one step closer to our goal. That bastard's a dead man walking now that we got BH on the case. They're good; strong and capable, I know they'll get the job done for us."

You gently press your lips over his image. And for a brief moment, you let yourself pretend that the paper is a good replacement for his callous skin.

"Once everything's done, I'll go over and join you and our girl. We'll be together again, I'm sure."

He smiles eternally at you, and you find yourself smiling back.

"Wish me luck, darling. Help me be strong."

[...]

His little girl adores you.

Each time he comes by the market, the first thing she whines for is to see the flowers. And you always indulge her, lifting her in your arms so you can show her all the pretty little blooms you have in your small cart. You give names to each one, tell her what they mean as though she understands you.

And you laugh. And he finds himself thinking that his little girl is a good judge of character, because he's starting to adore you too.

And it's becoming obvious, since Nick and Gray give him the occasional nab and jab, wondering out loud when they're going to see him get married and give them another grandchild. His siblings too, always cackling and yapping about how he might be the first to hang up his boots and settle down.

He rolls his eyes, but he's not too displeased by the idea. You're soft and sweet, with a kick of spice to match- the thought of settling down with you and Cherry on the farm is surprisingly sweet.

So he leaves Cherry to her loving grandparents and invites you out on a moonlit stroll through the hillside meadow, the one with the perfect view of the blooming moon lilies and the spring lake that reflects the starry night sky.

"I've never been here before," you gasp in awe, eyes aglow as you absorb the scenery. "It's beautiful."

"Yeah," he murmurs, gaze fixated on you and the moonlight in your eyes. "You are."

You turn your head, and your eyes meet. "Huh? Did you say something?"

"N- nothin'!" He faces the lake, and hopes you don't notice his red cheeks. "Said nothin'."

You laugh, and god, he melts at the sound. Then you rub the back of your head, and turn away, blushing. "I... I think you're very beautiful too."

His brain short-circuits. "Pretty... you think I'm..." Then he gasps dramatically. "So you did hear that! You sneaky mouse!"

He playfully tackles you, and you both laugh and chortle as you wrestle one another to the ground. But then he opens his eyes and finds himself on top of you, hands intertwined, faces so close he can feel your breath, smell your moon lily scent.

The moonlight bathes you in silver, and god, he wants to kiss you. He wants to kiss you senseless, run his callous hands on your soft skin, wrap your plush thighs around his hips and-

"Can I...?" he whispers, weak and wanting. "Just... just a taste, I swear..."

You stare up at him, eyes so big and wide that he swears the moon itself disappeared to light up your gaze, that he doesn't notice you untangling your hands from his until you wrap your arms around his neck.

"Just a taste, cowboy?" you tease. "You don't wanna try... anything else?"

You raise your hips and grind on his pelvis, and he moans and kisses you, hard.

Eager hands dart across skin, tearing off clothes. He runs his hands over your plush tummy, hooks your thighs around his hips and moans when he finally enters you.

He'll never forget this moment. Even if he were to die and be reborn, he'll never forget you. Your pleasured moans as he slides himself inside your tight heat, your teary smile as you open your arms to let him press his chest against yours, your starry eyes so full of love and desire that mirror his own.

You make love for hours, the stars and moon lilies your only witnesses.

"-hill. Boothill."

His eyes crack open.

Instead of a blooming moon lily meadow, he's in the underground repair shop.

Just a memory.

He rises with a groan, mechanical joints creaking from the lack of use. "Done already? I was havin' quite the nice dream."

The mechanic rolls her eyes. "Yeah, I can tell. Anyway, speed upgrades are done; the rest of your body is the same- sensory receptors are good, memory chip still intact, et cetera."

She rambles on and on; he's used to tuning her out at this point. As long as his body is in peak condition, he doesn't need to know what else extra she's stacked on him.

"-and the dick. Make sure to test it out at some point."

He blinks. "What'd ya say?"

She groans. "The dick, Boothill. Make sure to test it."

"What dick are ya talking about? If you're trying to say I'm a piece of shi-"

"I added a dick attachment to your body, dumbass." She points towards his crotch. "I had an extra one that I really need to get rid of, so I'm giving it to you. Use it, rip it up and toss it, I don't care- just get it off my back!"

And with no further explanation, the mechanic practically throws him out the store, slamming the door with extra ferocity. Boothill lies on the ground, blinking a few times in shock, before checking his pants, and lo and behold, there is a silicone dick attachment. Sensory receptors and everything, he hisses when he pokes lightly at it, the wires in his body jittering at the unfamiliar sensation.

Doe eyes and a teary smile flash in the back of his mind.

He suddenly jumps to his feet with a vengeance and slams on the door. "You cheating, deceitful shirt-bag! Take this fudging thing off right now! You hear me, woman?! Take this shirt off right now!"

He's no doubt starting a commotion, a crowd drawing in to witness his rage-induced ranting and raving. But then his phone dings, and he's forced to put a pin in it, taking out the shitty device to hear the alarm: Meeting with ML @ 18:00! Meeting with ML @ 18:00! Be there or be square!

Ah, shit.

He can't miss this meeting, not even to blow a hole right between that shitty mechanic's eyebrows. ML is too valuable to lose, having provided him with incredibly detailed information on Oswaldo Schneider and the IPC time and again. Almost as if they have an agenda against that sick bastard as well.

Well. The enemy of an enemy is a friend, right? He'll take what he can get. And if they end up turning their back, well, he's sure his bullet is faster than their legs.

So he leans to the door, whispers a deadly "I'll be back for you, baby," and dashes to his spaceship to head over to Mavorosa.

And as he's prepping for flight, he looks over at the picture on the dashboard.

It's the only one Boothill has of you. The three of you, together- him holding little Cherry in one arm and your waist in the other, you wrapping your arms around him and your baby girl with your sweet smile and moon lily eyes.

He brushes a metal fingertip over your face.

"Just hang in there, moon lily," he whispers, a clump in his throat. "We're one step closer; ML's got some good intel on the son of a nice lady that destroyed our planet- our home. That destroyed you."

Boothill lost the ability to cry long ago, but the corners of his eyes itch all the same. He gnaws on his lip so hard, drops of blue blood trickle down his chin.

"I swear to you, darlin', I'm gonna get our revenge against that beautiful bench. He'll wish he never set his filthy sights on our home once I'm through with him." He gently picks up the photo and presses his lips to your image. "And then I'll come home. To Cherry, Nick and Gray, my siblings. I'll come home to you. We'll get started on that house we talked about, maybe some runts so Cherry can be a big sister..."

He swallows, then carefully puts the photo back on the dashboard. The lump doesn't disappear, so once the spaceship is cruising through the stars to Mavorosa, he sets it on autopilot and descends into the belly to go to his chest of valuables. He opens it up and delicately takes out the moon lily crown.

The one he was working on for you, a promise of his undying devotion. Before the world exploded in fire and ash. Before the IPC decimated his family, the moon lily meadow... decimated you.

He closes his eyes and raises it to his face. Even preserved, the petals are still soft to the touch, and smell just as lovely.

Just like you.

He won't let your death be in vain. He won't.

The lump in his metal chest morphs into rage.

Boothill opens his eyes.

[...]

If not for the Stellaron, Mavorosa would be a wonderful planet. A once lively city now stands abandoned, its skyscrapers and glass structures being embraced by nature once again.

You stand on the rooftop, mask and voice synthesizer on, fidgeting with the USB, simply observing everything when-

"So this is what you look like. I thought you'd be bigger," a male voice calls behind you.

Your body freezes. That voice... it sounds like...

No. You must be wrong. Maybe you've been so lonely that every male voice just starts to sound like your deceased lover.

"I thought you'd be here earlier," you reply with your warped voice. "Time is precious to you and me both, BH."

"Sorry, had to wrap up some... personal stuff on my end. I'm here now, ain't I?" The oh-so-familiar yet distant voice chuckles. "Well. Business ain't gonna settle itself. Where's the drive?"

"Where's the payment? We both know I don't work free."

He huffs. "Yeah, yeah, I hear ya. Don't worry, I got your cash. Just fork over the drive, no need to make things difficult, not after everything, yeah? Haven't I earned your trust by now?"

"You realize how difficult face-to-face is? It takes a substantial amount of effort to get this intel, not to mention the possibility of being-" You turn around in your exasperation-

And you drop the USB.

Tall and metal. Flowing black-and-white hair. Piercing gray-and-red eyes. Sharp teeth.

"Y'know, I've always wanted to be a gunslinger, just like Nick," [???] cackled, whipping out his revolver and making dramatic poses with it. "Maybe be one of those boothills of legend."

"I'd rather you not," you murmured as you brushed off some dirt off of his shirt. "Those boothills always died on their feet. I'd rather you not die at all."

He softened, and with a smile, he put down his gun and sidled up to you, bringing you in his embrace, warm and strong. You breathed in his comforting scent and sighed happily.

"Don't you worry about that, hun." He kissed your cheek, then square on your mouth. "I ain't goin' nowhere. You can't get rid of me that easy!"

BH. Boothill.

How could you not notice earlier?

Your mouth dries. You can't move a muscle.

It's him. Mechanical, but very much alive.

"Hey, watch the merchandise!" he hisses, pointing at the fallen USB. "I need that, don't you forget it!"

"How are you..." you weakly gasp, then you grab the USB. "Here. Take it. Forget the money."

You slide it over to him, and he stops it with his foot. But his eyes narrow at you.

"Whaddaya mean, 'How are you,' huh?" He walks towards you, slow and leisurely, like a coyote cornering its helpless prey. "You say that like you're shocked I'm still around. What'd ya do, huh? Sell me off to the IPC?"

"No!" you cry, shocked. "I would never-!"

"Why so jittery, partner? What are you hiding?" He smirks, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "How about a show of trust, huh? You take off that cute little mask of yours, I don't shoot you dead, and we keep our little arrangement goin'. Sound fair?"

You turn around, eyes searching for an escape route.

Aeons above, you need to leave. You can't show him your face. You can't remind him of everything he lost, the people he couldn't save. You can't hurt him any more than you already have. You're afraid. You want to hide. You're selfish. You want to tell him. You're in love.

You want to die. You want the ground to swallow you alive. You want to hole away in your shack and wallow in your grief, descend into a spiral of what-ifs: what if you tried harder to find him? What if you searched the whole IPC ship you snuck on trying to resolve things peacefully until you found him? What if you ran out earlier and tried to bring him with you? What if, what if, what if-

"Now that you got some measure of my grit," he whispers in your ear, suddenly standing behind you, "I'm sure you know how this ends, yeah? C'mon now, take it off."

You pant heavily, head dizzy with his close proximity- god, even with the metal, he still smells the same. "I- I can't-"

"Feelin' shy? Alright, I'll do it for you."

"No! Please, no!" You swat at his hands and try to break free of his iron grip, but he grabs you hard and pulls you against his chest.

He cackles, metallic and bitter. "And here I thought I finally had an ally, but no- you're just like the rest of 'em shirt-bags." He whips out his revolver and raises it to your head. "Take. It. Off. Now."

You want to cry. You don't want to hurt him.

Slowly, with trembling hands, you take off your mask...

And his gun falls to the floor.

Doe eyes. Soft cheeks. Scars. Floral scent.

"What made you wanna be a florist?" he asked you once, helping you water the rainbow roses. "They're pretty and all, don't get me wrong. But don't you want somethin' more exciting?"

"On the contrary, I think they're very exciting," you explained. "They all have their unique personality; some need lots of love and care, and others don't mind if you go missing for a week or two. There's flowers that only stay with you for so long, and there are others that will love you for as long as you'll let them."

He grunted. "Sounds like you'd do just fine without me."

"Oh, please." You put down your watering can and embraced him from behind. And just as planned, he melted at your touch. "Moon lilies love the moon, but they need the sun to grow. And that's exactly what you are to me."

"The moon?"

"The sun."

ML. Moon lily.

It's so obvious, how did he not realize it sooner?

He lets you go. You immediately stumble away from him, hands covering your face in shame.

Boothill has no lungs, yet he feels his chest collapse.

"(Y/N)?" he calls to you, weak and desperate. "Moon lily? That's really you, right?" He reaches out, hand shaking. But when he grazes your shoulder, you hunch further into yourself. "I- I'm sorry, I... I didn't mean to scare ya. Please..."

Boothill willingly let go of his humanity. But right here, right now, he wishes he still had his skin.

"Please, darlin'... turn around? Let me see you, please."

You shiver, tears spilling down your cheeks, and slap a hand over your mouth. You can't hurt him, you'll never hurt him. "I can't... I can't see you."

His body wants to collapse. He wants to grab you by your shoulders and kiss you senseless, look at you from head to toe and sing praises to Lan for protecting you and keeping you safe.

But you won't see him. You won't turn around.

"Why?" he whines, like a pleading child. "Why not?"

"Because I'm not the same anymore!" you sob. "I'm not your moon lily anymore! I don't want to remind you of everything you lost! I don't want to hurt you anymore! You don't know the things I've done, the blood I spilled, all to destroy the IPC!" You sink to the floor in despair, echoes of the dead haunting you, swarming your mind. "I can't bear to see you hate me for being alive when everyone else died. I already hate myself so much, hated myself because I couldn't save anyone else! I thought I lost you, but now I realize I didn't search for you at all! I didn't even try to find you, I..."

You cry and sob and scream. You pound the floor with your fists. You pull at your hair, your clothes, your skin, so hard that drops of blood water the cement.

Boothill's eyes itch with tears that will never spill. His chest burns with a profound grief that will never truly be his own.

"You think I don't feel that way about myself?" he finally whispers. Bravely, he takes a step closer to you. "From the moment the bombs fell, I was never the same. I changed too much to be that man you met at the market- hell, I don't even have the body anymore." He sits just behind you, close to touch but not close enough. "The blood I spilled would be enough to fill oceans. But I'm still here. I still remember everything. I still remember you." His hand, feather-light, brushes your arm. You don't pull away. "I thought I lost you. When I went back to the ranch and couldn't find anyone there, I thought you were one of the piles of ashes on the ground." He chokes as he speaks, but he pushes on. "I never hated myself more. I failed to save them; I failed to save you."

You shake your head, but he gently rests his head on your back, right between your shoulder blades. He breathes you in- dust, machine oil, and moon lilies.

You smell so alive.

"How could you think I'd ever hate you," he whimpers, "when there's no one I hate more than myself? No, sweetheart, I could never hate you. I never will. Nothing you do could ever make me hate you. So please, turn around..." He grabs a fistful of your shirt and tugs. "I'm begging you. Let me see your face, please."

Your heart breaks. You couldn't fathom how much he suffered, how lonely he must have felt, the self-loathing that coursed through his wires every time he looked in the mirror.

Just like you.

"Don't hate yourself," you sniffle, rubbing your eyes. "Nothing you do could ever make me hate you either. What happened wasn't your fault; you didn't know what the IPC was going to do until it happened."

He lets out a small huff. "I could easily say the same about you. It wasn't your fault either- neither of us could've known until it was too late."

You exhale shakily. "Do you really mean it? Not hating me?"

Boothill smiles. "Every word."

For a moment, you're afraid. What if he doesn't like what he sees? You know he's not a superficial man, but you're still not the sweet florist he remembers anymore.

You suck in a deep breath. He's not the same man you remember, but he's still your cowboy, your Boothill.

Slowly, you turn around, and...

Oh. His face is just how you remember. His beautiful silky hair, the red targets in his eyes still framed within familiar stormy gray. When you reach out with trembling hands to cup his smooth cheeks, he melts in your touch just how he always did.

And melt he does. He nearly moans at your soft touch, pressing his cheek into your palms to keep your focus on him. He drinks up every detail of your face and commits it to memory- your beautiful moony eyes and the dark circles under them, the faintest hint of a scar curling from the edge of your jawline into your neck, your soft hair that smells of moon lilies.

You're still you, the sweet florist he fell in love with all those years ago. And now you've returned to him, and this time, he'll never let you go.

He sits you on his lap and embraces you, nuzzling into the crook of your neck and savoring your scent. You wrap your legs around his waist and make yourself comfortable, admiring his metal body, tracing patterns into the steel.

"I love you," he whispers with a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "I never stopped loving you, not for one second."

"I'm sorry I didn't look for you," you confess. "But I kept you in my heart every day. Even when we weren't together, you were always a part of me."

"I'm here now." He pulls away to admire you, his thumb brushing your bottom lip as he gazes at you with what you could only describe as reverence. "I'm right here with you. I'm not leaving you ever again."

Boothill didn't realize how much his world lacked color until he kisses you, but now he swears he can see every color in the spectrum flash before his eyes. You taste just how he remembers, sweet and salty with your tears. When you pull away for air, he dives back in to reclaim your lips, hooking a hand around your neck to keep you in place.

He won't let you slip from his fingers again. And you clearly feel the same way, because you tangle your hands with his hair and tug him closer, pulling him on top of you.

"Please don't be a dream," you cry in his shoulder, and it damn near breaks his heart. "I don't want to wake up if it is."

"Darlin', those dreams are better off in Penacony; I'm right here. Does this," he kisses your cheek, "or this," he squeezes your ass and relishes in your squeal, "or this..." He grinds into you, and you gasp, squeezing his shoulders with a whimper. And fuck, maybe he was a bit too harsh with that mechanic, he should send her flowers or something, because your face contorted in shock and a hint of reawakened pleasure is a drug he will happily become addicted to. He nibbles on your ear and whispers, "Any of that feel like a dream to you?"

"...No." You stare at him, moon lily eyes abloom with hearts and love and fuck, he wants you, he needs you.

And your eyes are reflected in his, because you're so captivated by how the targets in his gaze morph into blood red hearts that drip with love and devotion. You want to give him everything, bring him under your skin and into your heart so you'll never be separated again.

"I love you." You smile and open your arms for him. "Let's never be apart again."

Boothill's brain short-circuits. He can only remember the minutiae of what happens next- tearing off your clothes, your hands running across his metallic chest, his sensors working in overdrive to let him process your touch, your smell, your taste, as he kisses, nibbles and sucks his way across the canvas of your body to reach your core.

But just as he's about to taste your liquid gold, you tug on his hair. He immediately moves up to your face, nuzzling into your neck to comfort you.

"What's wrong, moon lily? I'll be gentle, I promise," he reassures you, but you bite your lip and shake your head.

"I know. But I don't want that right now; I want you to fuck me."

You spread your legs, once again revealing your soaking pussy to his hungry eyes, and fuck, his mouth goes dry at the exquisite feast before him. And his new dick feels the same way, as the electricity in his body jolts it to life, straining against his pants.

He swallows. "Yeah, baby. I want you too, but I gotta prep ya, or it's gonna hurt."

"Don't care!" you whine, and on Lan's Arrow, you're so cute with your pouting and wailing. "I need you, Hillie, I need it, I need it-!"

Ah, fuck. He can't say no to you, and he won't start now.

So he rips off his pants, and after a few quick pumps of his new cock (yeah, he'll send some flowers to the mechanic as a thank-you), he grabs hold on your hips and thrusts forward.

You shriek at the burning sensation, scrambling for grip on his shoulders as he penetrates deeper and deeper. Fuck, it's been so long since you had sex of any kind, and it shows. You moan loudly, shamelessly, so sensitive to the buttons his cock presses perfectly against your walls, that you cum instantly when he bottoms out, hips meeting yours with a soft thud.

"Fuuudge," Boothill groans, each syllable drawn out in pleasure, "you're so tight, sugar~ I can't even move..."

His brain might just melt from the overload of sensations. Your pussy's so tight, so wet, he's damn sure he near ascended to aeonhood. And your face is so adorable when cumming, he makes sure to engrave every part of it into his neurochip and brush the hair out of your eyes, moving his hips in slow, shallow thrusts, guiding you out of the afterglow.

When you finally blink the stars out of your eyes, you see Boothill hovering above you, rubbing your cheek with hearts in his eyes.

"God, you're so fudgin' gorgeous." He grins, sharp teeth glinting in the dim light, and a shiver of excitement runs down your spine. "Think you got another for me?"

You whine, "Still sensi- AH!"

He immediately sets a vigorous pace, hips slamming against yours in a hypnotic rhythm. He fixates on your breasts, and leans over to take a hard nipple in his mouth to suck and lick and nibble. You squeal and pull on his hair. He bites your skin in retaliation.

"Easy, moon lily," he moans, quickly stifling it with a kiss. "Hold on to me."

He grabs under your arms and lifts you onto his lap. His cock sinks impossibly deeper inside you, the tip nudging at your cervix. With a shriek, you bite his neck to try and ease the discomfort, but it only excites him more. With a guttural groan, he thrusts up into your sopping hole, bouncing you up and down with rough hands to set an even rougher pace.

You're still so sensitive; too much, too fast, and his cock fits so snugly inside you that you're already spiraling towards another release. But you don't want to make that journey alone, you want Boothill beside you.

So you grab his face and devour his mouth, pressing your tongue against his to savor his metallic taste. He moans against your lips, hips stuttering in an effort to keep up with you.

"Wanna make you feel good," you pant heavily. You carefully slide up and down on his thick cock, head thrown back as it hits your sweet spot. "Wanna... wanna cum with you!"

"Y- you are, baby," he groans against your neck, each word punctuated with a deep thrust. "You're makin' me feel so- darn- good-"

You're so close, you can see the faintest glimmer of stars again. Or maybe that was the sparks from his body as it overworks to keep his sensors running, so he can keep feeling you, tasting you, fucking you.

"Hillie," you gasp when the stars start to overwhelm you. "Hillie, I-"

"I know, baby, let go, I'm right with ya." He kisses you, over and over, thrusts sloppy as he chases his high, sensors working overdrive, wires sparking to further push him over the edge. "I'm- fudge, fudge, fudge-!"

He chokes, and you both come undone together, chasing that relentless wave of pleasure side by side. Stars collide and burst in showers of gold and silver, and your strength all but fails you, so you collapse in Boothill's arms, rubbing your cheek on his cool chest.

He catches his breath, letting his sensors rest as he basks in that afterglow. His wires are probably fried after such an intense sensory overload, but he can't bring himself to give a damn. Not when you're sitting so pretty in his arms, eyes just barely able to stay open.

You're so cute when you're sleepy, it's hard to not bite your cheek like he used to do. But tonight, he'll be generous and resist the temptation; you need your rest.

He runs a hand through your hair, and he once again finds himself wishing he still had his skin. But he sets that aside, preferring to be lost in your sleepy smile instead.

"Love you, Hillie," you coo drowsily, head nodding off.

"I love you more, moon lily," he whispers back with a kiss to your forehead.

In a moment, he'll bring you on his spaceship and clean you up, then tuck you in the spare bunk next to his charging port. He'll have to look at that USB you painstakingly put together for him sooner or later.

But for now, right here, he's not going anywhere.

His moon lily came back to him.

Boothill has finally returned home.

[Post-Credit]

"What the actual hell is this..." the mechanic sighs as she stares at the large bouquet of blue flowers.

She wonders if she should toss them out before she notices the card.

Thanks for the added bonus, Doc! - BH & ML

Her eyebrows raise. The handwriting's too nice and legible to be that Galaxy Ranger's, so...

She chuckles. "I figured it'd come in handy sooner or later."

She sets the bouquet on her desk and continues on with her work.

--------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: holy shirtballs BOOOTHILL MY LOVE AAAAAAAHSHDHDBSK I LOVE HIM SO MUCH LIKE I NEVER LOVED A CHARACTER BEFORE

...if only he loved me back just the slightest, cuz I lost 50/50 and went hard pity to get him. But I did win his lightcone so I guess it's even...?

[meracyn]

The love you left behind

oneshot. gn reader, angst.

tw ; mentions of death

How long has it been already?

One month? Two? Is it five now? The days after the accident blurred together, it all happened too fast— You didn’t remember anymore.

You stood up, and walked over to where your lover sat on the soft grass, gazing out at the river, a pebble in hand. The sky above was coated in orange and pinkish hues, the sunset painting the clouds in a faint gray color mixed with purple, swaying in the cool breeze.

You stayed still, watching quietly. Even though you wanted to speak, you wouldn’t be heard. You were gone after all—

you were dead.

I wish things didn’t end this way.

It had become a routine; this silent watch over them—making sure they were doing well. In the beginning, it was hell. The shouts, the intense denial, the pain. The line that separated the living and the deceased wasn’t too wide.

You still held feelings, memories of your life throughout the years, still shed tears, even without a beating heart.

The pain was supposed to be gone after death. Why is it still there?

Loneliness, sorrow, love, too. It wasn’t different, it felt exactly the same. But it doesn’t matter, your feelings wouldn’t be able to reach them.

Unless we reunite in death.

As more time went by, you started to realize they were moving on— with someone else. Filling the void in their heart, forgetting about you. You could see it in their eyes, you could feel it even—the look of hope, of healing. The way their heart began to beat a bit quicker each time the two were met.

Can you still feel heartbreak even without a beating heart?

You finally had the answer.

You wanted to be angry. Hold a grudge against the person, shout and somehow reach out to your lover and be remembered again. Be loved again. But you couldn’t. You had no voice, nothing to carry your pain in.

Filled with dread, betrayal. You tried to accept their decision and let go, to be happy, but you couldn’t deny the growing feeling of resentment.

Is it selfish to wish that you never let me go?

You could only watch. Watch and wish. Wish that you were still a part of their love, be reassured and held in their arms once again. To be told “I love you” one last time.

But those wishes were unreciprocated. You were forgotten already, fading away in the back of their mind. The pain was unbearable, you weren’t in peace. The vow you once made after death to always protect them, ended up being broken.

You couldn’t watch anymore.

Either way, it wouldn’t have mattered if you still did or not.

After all, they were happy with someone else now.

— Aether, Izuku, Denki, Childe, Meguru, Gojo, Shoto, Tanaka, Tanjiro, Nagisa, Itto, Gorou, any of your favorite characters!

a/n; first time writing angst lmao btw theres so many characters i didnt know who to pick so i chose random but you guys obviously have bigger brain so choose whoever you think fits w/this, havent posted in almost a month too i just realized..ill go sleep rn 💀 and. pls send genshin reqs (but only ‘til sumeru im hella behind whoops)

[rateatinginsulation]

Ohhh this isn't just gay gothic lit it's TOXIC gay gothic lit

I started listening to the audio book of the picture of Dorian gray and I thought everyone was just being silly, but damn these bitches ARE gay

[alwaysoutofpaper]

Whoops. Turned them into marketable plushies.

Meredith would have fur akin to the retired gray wolf webkinz (which I still have) I was just too lazy to render all that fur for this lmao. She has creepy glass eyes and some incorrect coloration because it's funny to me. Enrais's eyes would be embroidered :) maybe he'd come with different outfits if I could think of more than one lmao

transparent versions, just because. might toss them in the background of a scene someday lol. rip wish they could be real how cool would that be

[madamemiz]

oh goodness gracious i'm AAAAAAAAAA i'm gonna giga ramble to you about the fic and awowaugheaorugdfgf one of the reasons I took that fic where it went from your comic because while I was playing, I always wished kerfur could "do more" sit on the couch with you, unlock doors, look at the TV, etc, little things like that to give you a little glimpse into who they might really be one of the things I do think is that kerfur is very, very enthusiastic about the things they do (they go into a full fucking sprint when you give them the report paper), and the same thing would apply to... an advance of some kind... one of the biggest, defining emotions in the game for me was the flip flop between "comfort" and "terror" in one moment, i'm listening to the morning music, kerfur just grabbed the reports, the drives are shipped away and everything is maintained/100% calibrated, nothing is happening, i almost WANT something to happen and the next, i get a jolt of abject terror down my spine because i THOUGHT i saw a shadow man outside and a lot of that comfort came from kerfur, the companionship, the something to lean on for me, the game was a paranoia nightmare until I settled in with that damn adorable robot, and outright fell in love (I was still anxious, but I was mentally prepped when TR3 goes out and you need to reset it on foot, no ATV, trekking in the snow with Kerfur behind me) it's not even like kerfur's design isn't inherently attractive? but you can develop that kind of love because of the way they can make you feel, what they are, what they do, what they become to you and I projected ALL of that onto Kel LMAO

i have this whole living room/bedroom/saferoom (the door has a lock!) set up with two sleeping bags and a hotplate behind the couch and kerfur can't even sit on it >:( just, like my experience with the game, what I felt playing it, what I saw surrounding it the stuff you make hits me in the perfect spot, I wish Guard Mode was a real thing so damn bad kerfur refusing to be used as a tool, a learning, living, thinking thing, every bit as capable of the unfeeling horror those scientists feared capable of feeling hatred, wrath, apathetic disregard, violent tendencies, being influenced but also capable of every good thing in this world, the same as a person, of being nurtured and nuturing, of growing and learning core beliefs, feeling love, feeling warmth, a sense of humor they were scared of a person, and all of the volatility and unknown futures that come with being one, especially from a blank slate. kel and kerfur are the union of flesh and machine, not as a perverse monstrosity, what's seen in kerfu and skerfuro, in the Gray's technology, but bound in love and life. your art is all little snippets and angles of the exact feelings I had turned into pictures and it's <<<33333 which is probably why my fic ended up being the way it was

ROBOT LOVERS COME GET Y'ALL JUICE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

HELLO HI THIS IS LATE IM SORRY LOL im on mobile most of the time and ask alerts get burried in notifs whoops

anyway i feel you, esp with wishing kerf could do more and such. I've always been a sucker for sentient robots who probably shouldn't be sentient, and the idea of robots gaining sentience and growing very attached to their one special human that their whole world revolves around. is that healthy?? no! is it compelling? very!!! lots of potential for complex and messy feelings on both ends. imagining kerfur growing into sentience very quickly bc kel treats them with dignity and shows them care is so fun, i like thinking about how they could potentially start doing more, leaning more. they start wanting things for themself. they want him. they don't know how to express that, at first

see, *i* think kerfur's design is inherently attractive xjdbjfs. funny story, i actually got lowkey tricked into getting invested in this game bc my partner essentially dangled cute robot on a stick in front of me. and it worked, because im predictable lmao. i defs projected that onto kel too, though. he'd think they're cute, even in their base form, but it's not something he let himself think too deeply about at first. he doesn't want to be weird about it. time and loneliness and companionship wears him down, though. he grows to care deeply far faster than he really should

or at least, that's one version. i like to play around with different versions of how that could go in my mind

i like your upstairs saferoom! i have something similar in mine, i made a comfy hangout spot for them in my second playthrough :3

im glad the stuff i make hits you just right, I'm v flattered ;w; im just always weak for human/robot stuff and never get tired of that trope and all the fun stuff that comes with it

i like other aspects of the game too obvs, but im very attached to kerfur 💜

[moreespressoformydepresso]

Guess who just had the most hijinx filled AU in mind? Imagine if the mentors from TBOSAS are all high society elites (like in canon) while the tributes are several shades of impoverished lower working class? Not like canon, because at least they’re seen as humans here :p. Despite them all working in different industries and not really living in the same area, the poor kids are all somewhat connected. I will fuck around with the ages here, but they may be a little older than in canon. What started all of this is wedding shenanigans so I’ll try to briefly summarize what’s happening:

Persephone is getting married to Festus. She’s a teacher/mentor to Mizzen, who is the little brother of Coral, one of the bodyguards for the event. Coral’s girlfriend Lucy Gray is the lead singer of the band that’ll provide the music at the event. Said lead singer is friends with the head bartender Jessup, who is friends with the maid of honor Lysistrata. Both Jessup and Lucy Gray have loose friendship ties to the waitstaff. This web of connections runs deep and I’m gonna make a family tree type thing for it at some point lmao. Now for the fun part:

The mother of the groom shows up in a truly gorgeous, expensive, exquisite designer dress. A white one. Persephone is, of course, in tears, but Festus can’t get his mom to change and for social status reasons they can’t kick her out. Luckily for them, they won’t have to. See, Lysistrata goes to Jessup to get Persephone’s favorite drink to help console her and tells him what’s going on. Jessup passes the information on to Lucy Gray, who gets an Idea. See, she is friendly with Treech, one of the waiters. They met when her band the Covey played orchestra in the theater where Treech works as an actor. It was a show where he had a starring role and they interacted a lot because of it. So she tells him what’s going down and asks if he could… put an end to this little problem. Treech happily agrees and ropes the other waiters into plotting.

Not even ten minutes later, when Persephone comes out for the pictures, Treech “stumbles” with a platter of red wine and very accidentally falls. Right on top of the mother of the groom. Oh no! What a coincidence!! He’s near tears he’s so sorry for what he’s done as he “helps clean her dress” and very unintentionally rubs the stain into the fabric, spreading it out further. Whoops. The mother of the groom (MOG) screams at him for minutes and goes to hit him, but Lamina distracts her by moving in close and starting to “clean up the dress” with a dark napkin that was soaked in more red wine earlier. Treech nopes away long enough for MOG to forget his face and then helps escort her to change into a new, non-white dress.

The entire staff gets a massive tip that day.

[sunny-reis]

hcs - enha as college students

notes: this isn't even an x reader (it may be in the future 👀) lmao, this is all lighthearted and i by no means intend to insult or deface any of the enhas or see them fr fr this way

heeseung: comp sci major w/a music minor

deep down would definitely want his degrees to be the other way around

but he would probs realize cs just leads to more of a stable job (not with ai on the rise tho 😍 we love going into a doomed field of study)

(as a cs kid i’m ABSOLUTELY projecting onto my little headcanons about him)

i think..he’d be a NORMAL person that enjoys programming more than learning abt computer hardware or theory

seeing as he’s normal he’d HATEEEEE object-oriented programming (the complex part of programming OUGHGG)

he’d probably know exactly what to minor in for his dream job: music production

he’d DEFINITELYYY be in the school orchestra as a piano

he’s not mysterious enough for a bass, annoying enough for a violin or trumpet, or quirky enough for a cello

he’s an attention whore he wouldn’t even LOOK at the violas 💀

but yeah overall i think he’d know his plans for the future down to a T

probs has an internship at microsoft (derogatory)

now for the most important question

would he be a tech bro?

absolutely NOT

for those that aren’t as familiar with tech bros

just imagine a redditor alpha male with horribly gelled hair that brings the LOUDEST gaming pc to class with a horribly oiled, light-up keyboard, and makes sleazy comments about the one or two girls in every comp sci class

in other words: a woman in cs’ worst nightmare (send help i’m one of TWO girls in a class full of tech bros.)

but yeah he wouldn’t be like that at all

he’d definitely suck at rizzing up women (bro plays LoL in 2023, the year of our lord, need i elaborate?)

i can easily imagine him coming into class with gray sweatpants, a white t-shirt and flannel over, and a double-shot coffee from starbucks every day

he’d probably be the most decent-looking dude in every cs-related class i can’t even lie

for the dudes reading this: if you ever need an ego boost, do basic self-care and dress well (maybe even put on basic makeup), and join a cs class

the amount of mid ass incels with no concept of self-care will immediately make you the most attractive man in the class i kid you not

neways enough of me projecting 💀

as a music student

i could absolutely see him eat up every composition assignment (where you compose your own piece of music)

although i feel like he’d have a teacher that prefers classical music that’d be PISSED every time he submits something non-conventional

omg imagine him composing a whole dubstep instrumental for class

if the music production thing doesn’t work out he’d start a band with a bunch of losers in his dad’s garage and make horrible music that’d still get a decent amount of listens and attention bc he’s hot

it’s giving fallout boy but not emo

maybe shitty indie at best

more utc !

jay: english major w/a philosophy minor

first of all

his ass would NOT know philosophy is mostly math before signing up

i don’t think he’d be bad at math at all but he’d fs be regretting it all

but then he’d debate dropping out until whoop there’s only a semester left until it’s over. too late.

he’d dress up for every class for SUREEE

one word: beige.

he IS light academia pinterest

studyblr WISHES it was him fr

macbook user. i don’t need to explain.

he’d probably have his life together on the outside

bullet journal and aesthetic notion and all

i feel like he’d prefer discussions and deep thought (hence the philosophy) and debates over analysis

he’d LOVE discussing his thoughts abt different texts in class

he would NOT like writing out analyses abt random ass stories tho (hs english was a NIGHTMARE)

argumentative essays are his BITCH fr

i think he’d lose points for focusing more on broader concepts and going just a tad too off-topic in analytical essays, instead of focusing on details and cause-effect relationships and all that

now for the important part: his life outside of college

ik for a FACT he’d be the most likely to have a thriving social life outside of school out of all of enha

don’t @ me it’s not my fault the rest of them are MAIDENLESS – heeseung plays LEAGUE for crying out loud !!

probably goes out to the mall or new attractions like museums every weekend

even tho he minors in arguably one of the hardest fields of study ??

bro would finish up calc III homework in less than an hour 🤯

i bet he’d be there on a scholarship too 😒lucky ass

jake: international relations (global politics) major, no minor

note: ik the average writer would probs make him a physics major but that’s BOOOORING and overdone, plus i just don’t see it 🤷

EXTREMELY IMPORTANT NOTE !!! IR ≠ political science !!! IR focuses on politics around the world, pol sci is more of how internal governments work

(i’m also heavily projecting here bc i’m a politics student send your prayers please and thank you)

i pity IR majors

this boy is TIRED 25/8

tbh the thing with IR isn’t that the content’s hard

a (paraphrased) quote from my IR teacher: “political scientists are lazy, all they do is come up with generic concepts and slap an ‘-ism’ at the end”

it’s moreso the reading and writing.

god the reading.

politics textbooks are so big and expensive it hurts my wallet just to look at the library-issued textbook i have

he’d be running on caffeine and a prayer, no sleep we die like men

not that he’d be a bad student !!

i could definitely see him being that one student that asks the teacher the silent questions no one asks bc they think it’ll make them look stupid (ie. asking them to repeat what they just said or explain a not-so-complex theory)

would definitely word vomit about politics, current and past, to the rest of the enhas (but just to make sure he remembers it all, you gotta respect the grind man)

none of them would understand a thing

jake: “yeah so it’s stupid how there are a whole bunch of states fighting over the south china sea when it’s technically international waters [please don’t quote me on this it’s like 2 am and i’m pulling stuff out of my ass] and therefore has no legal ‘owner’ haha isn’t that stupid?”

the rest of enha, maybe except for jay: 👁️👄👁️

jay: “ermmm akshully 🤓👆it’s in the name, china has legal rights over the south CHINA sea bc it borders it”

i can picture it vividly

imma be honest this man would be a MESS

he’d probably make (futile) attempts to get his shit together like a notion pro subscription, trying to sleep on time, a gym membership, you name it

sadly that’s just the life of a politics student

it’s so hectic it’d be hard to keep up with, but it’s jake, he’d somehow stay afloat

he’d probably come to his minimum wage job after class half-dead but his manager and coworkers would take pity on him and let him sleep in the janitor’s closet

would probably be clinging to the whole “just get through tomorrow and it’ll get better” mentality

it does not. sigh

sunghoon: undeclared until sophomnore (second) year, kinesiology (bio?) major

man honestly

this mf would be irrelevant

probs has a generic major and says absolutely nothing in class

if you blink he’d probs disappear

i feel like he’d initially wanna go for med but then he’d hear about the whole you’re-gonna-sacrifice-the-best-years-of-your-life-for-this-field-of-study thing and said NOPE lmao

which is reasonable

with the amount of ppl doing med in the world he wouldn’t think it’d make a difference if he decided to switch

i feel like he’d just be there for the ride 💀smth abt wanting to “experience all life has to offer” (not in a rich, just here for the business degree way, but more of an “i don’t need a degree to get a job but it might make it easier” way)

so yeah he decides to major in kinesiology, the study of movement according to google

disclaimer i’m not a bio person at ALL so any misinformation is completely unintentional and i will NOT be held at gunpoint to do research about a college major for HEADCANONS at ass o’clock in the morning

neways

he has a decently light workload and therefore a healthy amount of free time

on the occasional he does get a painful assignment he’d procrastinate until he’d staying up and cussing out his past self for not doing it earlier

tbh i don’t think he’d be a horrible OR amazing student

he’s truly MID mid

maybe an average of like … 75% which really isn’t bad tbh the american education system has conditioned us into thinking it is but let’s be fr other than philly cheese steaks what exactly have we ever gotten right.

….neways again

he’d be something like a jack of all trades, master of none

overall a chill guy 9/10 would be fun to hang out with

now for the best part

frat boy sunghoon

idk anything abt frat or sorority life – i’m asian the only thing close to a sorority i’d be in would be like … the school orchestra or book club 💀my parents would kill me – so don’t take everything i say for gospel

you bet your ass he’d be at every party

100% for the booze and vibes he wouldn’t even be there to flirt or rizz ppl up (he’s a self-aware man he knows he has negative rizz but that’s what makes him so ALLURING)

wouldn’t get high or anything tho he’s not all abt that life (that life being running away from the popo)

i’d trust him to walk me home tbh

he wouldn’t hurt a fly the most he’d do is like … attempt to verbally abuse jay

sunoo: art major, english lit. minor

you saw it coming don’t lie

NEWAYS

he’d be amazing at art honestly

making a portfolio would be his Thing yk

yk those big artists that are all about “working on the impulse” and not doing anything until they do ridiculous shit to get over art block

that’s him

but he slays every time he gets over it

god i feel like he’d be the perfect college friend after jay

he definitely has his shit together

i’m talking he does his assignments on time, probably has a half-paid merit scholarship, works a decent job at a taco bell just off of campus, and somehow has a will to live and time to go to the mall every weekend

the thing is, he’s not the most perfect college friend bc he’s slightly more fun-focused and free-spirited than jay, who’s a perfect mix of both

neways no more talking abt other enhas it’s sunoo’s time to shine 😠

i bet his dorm would be the most organized and decorated too oughhgh

he’d be the lucky mf that gets the biggest dorm on the first floor (with like two other roommates but they respect his privacy and all that)

he’d probably be able to get away with dorm policy violations (ie. cooking with an iron or something Not meant for cooking in his dorm instead of the nasty ass moldy ass communal kitchen) by batting his eyelashes and sweet-talking to the woman that oversees the dorms or smth (i’m blanking and i completely forgot what it’s called)

overall the luckiest bitch ever

we should all aspire to be sunoo tbh

if you’re a man and you’re not sunoo … thin fucking ice. do better. /hj

jungwon: biochem major, going for med (specifically oncology, the study of cancer?)

sorry in advance to any ppl in medical 🫶i’m gonna get every part of this wrong lmao

he’s one of Those Guys that’s known exactly what they’re doing since like … middle school

important question: would it be bc he gave into the classic asian parent pressure into becoming a doctor?

they might've played a tiny role in it but i think he'd genuinely wanna go into medical bc he's insane

definitely gets the best scores out of everyone in his class (idk if they use bell curves in med but if not he’d get solid 90s on everything)

i could see him with his life together tbh

homework always done a week before, healthy lunches he makes himself, clear skin, all that jazz

definitely has a merit-based scholarship

probably got a 1560 on the SAT too 😒 lucky ass bitch

i hate to say it

i really do

but he'd be the mf that reminds the teacher abt homework

“ermmmm mr. kim you said we had a pop quiz at the end of class” followed by him being beaten to a pulp

(w reaction/lh)

really cares about getting into a good med school

would DEFINITELY have like two internships every summer

so to recap: basically every asian med student ever (i’m friends with far too many rip med kids)

at least they won't be replaced with ai …

heeseung crying in the distance

NEWAYS

for a med student i feel like he’d be busy 24/7 but he wouldn’t Look like it?

like if you’ve seen a med student, even in hs, they look like they lost a fight to a rabid raccoon

but for some reason jungwon has his shit together like the neurotypical know-it-all he is 😒/lh please don’t kill me

seeing as he’s known what he wants to do since like … middle school in this au, i think he’d fs be on top of all the content he’s learned, if not ahead of everyone else

i’d trust him to be my doctor 🫡

actually no i wouldn’t

riki: theater major w/a visual art minor (get it bc he’s a minor) (i’m hilarious LAUGH)

he’s a quiet little guy, definitely sits in the back of the lecture hall

would milk the SHIT out of being a minority for scholarships and applications

i'm talking his common app essay abt being socially isolated and politically aware, i'm talking abt using any and all minority scholarships possible – in the eyes of the law (and the college board), riki is now half hispanic

i’d say his grades would be pretty decent, not much in the A+ zone (96-100) but at the very least, B+’s

really not that bad tbh

he’d SO be a theater kid in hs

tell me he wouldn't be those mfs that have the whole hamilton soundtrack memorized and break out into random song and dance at inappropriate times

i bet he’d ship hamilton and laurens 💀

neways

i feel like he'd like art as a class but suck at meeting deadlines and portfolio assignments n stuff

which is valid tbh i don’t think any kind of teacher of the arts (not just visual) should be too strict abt that

classes with him and sunoo would make him INSUFFERABLE omg

if you put them next to e/o they won't shut up

which is cute don't get me wrong

but makes trying to work IMPOSSIBLE

but when they're separated he’d be dead silent

you wouldn't even notice he's there tbh

overall a dedicated student with the occasional tendency to be silly and goofy

i feel like his resume would be pretty to make up for the lack of content actually on it

i'm talking canva pro graphics, fancy fonts, graphic design is his passion (not literally)

logically the best career path for him based on his degrees would be a set designer …

but obv he’s either an actor or the manager

probably an actor being a stage manager SUCKS

(don’t get me wrong it’s fun i’ve done it before but oh my GOD. if you ever wanna lose hair really fast become a backstage manager it’ll work 100%)

bonus: best-dressed in class

sunoo - you’ll never catch him slipping tbh 🤷 he’d have the most free time out of the others and would probably spend his time going out and putting together silly little outfits and being cute and adorable bc it’s kim sunoo That’s Just How He Is

jay - light academia light academia light academia light academia light academia

sunghoon (unintentionally) - his sense of style in college would be mid, truly meh, nothing special to look at but his looks make up for the boring attire (hubba hubba 😍) – the type to wear a white t-shirt, timbs, and jeans to class every day (get it 2017 jungkook 😍), maybe even a jacket. his sense of style would be as spicy as salt so not spicy at all, it’s giving unseasoned, boiled chicken

riki - he just Doesn’t Care but thankfully all the items in his closet would be usable (thanks to sunoo, that man would NOT let riki leave the house without running his outfits by him. his logic is that no best friend of his should look like a dumpsterfire !!)

jungwon - similar to jake, no time !! matching sweatshirts and sweatpants ftw

jake - politics majors have no sanity or connection to the real world bc it drives you INSANE after a month, cut him some slack :(

heeseung - the venn diagram of ppl with no sense of fashion and cs majors is a circle.

[yanci-indigo]

Hii, usually I am very shy showing this particular piece but, I kinda need some help regarding my wip designs of Lucio's parents:

So this guy here is Dakila, aka Lucio's dad, Dakila means "great or large" it could also mean noble. At first I am lowkey nervous I was unintentionally gonna end up making him look like a fusion of freckle and Nico.. Thank goodness it didn't?.. Obviously it's not fully colored yet, the orange parts are the markings.

He's based on a visayan leopard cat. (Or maral cat for short.):

Questions:

1. Now I do needed some advice or help whether I should simplify Dakila's markings. (Since I can imagine he be difficult to animate, that's just what I think.)

2. I have Lucio's Mother concept design, her name is Amelita. She's a Filipino domestic shorthair.. So could you suggest a breed for her please? If you can.

However I may or want to have her breed mix, since I made Lucio having a darker brownish beige color. Amelita's fur color is supposed to be warm brown, Dakila on the other hand has like an dark orangish color fur, with shades of brown.

So I am like in a crisis and my mind is debat4ibg whether or not I should just make Amelita a grey cat instead- Or brownish gray..

3. Another problem for me is Lucio's eye on my design is a Cooper yellow, while Dakila eyes are either dark brown or black. (Maybe it's just the bug pupils.) And I haven't decided what color Amelita would have. And I pretty much attached to Lucio having yellowish eyes so whoops..

Okay here's young Lucio btw: Its not 100 finalize but this what I think he'll look like when hes young.

And a old design concept:

Amelita:

And Lucio's older brother, Ezekiel:

That's all. Have a good day/Night. ^^

HIIII @mivant03 AHHH I just got home from swimming, and I read this as I took a break hihi.

Anyways, I have a lot to discuss here so let's start!

First off, I love your ocs as I started analyzing each of their designs. Ngl I also have a crisis when I drew the parents of my OC Amber especially her mother lmao. And yes, character designing can be frustrating too huhu (⁠〒⁠﹏⁠〒⁠)

I am not good at explaining stuff or giving advice, but I will try anyway because yes. of course. absolutely. why not?

Answers:

1. Since you have your reference for Lucio's father, I suggest you keep it simple. You can keep the dark brown streaks on his face to accentuate his features and to makes his design more unique. It also gives him the fierce look of a wild cat too. (Don't worry I don't see the fusion there ✧⁠*◍。)

2. I can't think of any cat breeds for Amelita, except a leopard cat, since there is not much wild cats in the Philippines huhu. Like when I researched it, there are like two wild cat breeds only native in Philippines.

Amelita as a Puspin is also fine too, since you can experiment her color patterns (more like a cheat code lmao). In fact, there is no specific color for Puspin as their color patterns are diverse (I mean EVERY COAT PATTERN EXISTS! ✧⁠\⁠(⁠>⁠o⁠<⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠✧) so there is not much of an issue if you play around on her design until you feel content. Amber's mom is a Puspin too with a tortoiseshell coat (black and orange fur).

I like the idea of Lucio got the genes from Amelita, as her genes are dominant while Dakila is a recessive one. I also like her to be brownish gray as it suits her more than the brown. It would be a nice detail that fits to their offspring.

(It's like genetics but it hurts our creativity AAAHHHH ༼⁠;⁠´⁠༎ຶ⁠ ⁠۝ ⁠༎ຶ⁠༽)

3. I love the concepts you made for the family. The breeds were mixed up, which it made sense since there are streaks from Dakila and the coat color from Amelita.

Also make Amelita's eyes warm yellow, since she would have a brownish gray fur just to contrast the hues and darkness. (It's up to you if you want to change her design)

Anyways that'll be all, I hope this will help you and forgive me if it's messy or anything huhu. All of these were my opinion and good luck on your piece!!! And take a break as well, mwah! YOU GOT THIS!!! ꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡

[bwobgames]

12 Detective Beebo Fun facts

there´s probably more but here's some

1.

When Beebo goes to open the doorknob, you can see his reflection 5 times. That's the amount of loops he will go through.

2. Also, those particular pictures were drawn in 2019. Including others that were not shown

Like this design of 2019 Beebo

3.

The reason i never made another pixelated room is because I drew the furniture using a weird perspective, so I needed guiding lines, and it was a complete drag to do, so I never did it again. Probably won't do it for the game either, too tedious.

4.

This one drawing of the first loop has Ángel separated from Vivi and Beebo through the framing of the window. Foreshadowing whooo

5.

The original sprites used to be longer.

You can also see 2 other characters that were taken out, the doctor girl and the jacket guy. The jacket guy became a modified version of Coli, and the doctor girl just disappeared for the sin of being a borderline self insert. Lmao.

Also! Ángel was gonna have light grey hair, but after actually drawing it I didn't like it so it went to dark gray

Here's the tinified sprites

6.

Heres some planning for the looks of the game from 2019. I like it honestly, its 2.5d, looks like a pop-up book. It just needs some work with the perspective.

7. The original design for beebo (silly triangle hat guy) was supposed to be a comedy character for a nonsensical game like jazzpunk. I even made a very bad 3d model for it.

That is also where "he has anime eyes" came from

I used to draw him all over my school notebooks just being silly, like going down the stairs head first.

8. There were many ideas on how things were gonna go. From vampires to weird magic systems to sci-fi. The thing that was gonna stay was the tíme loop, was would vary was the reason

9.

A lot of the time, Beebo talks about his fear of big houses and feelings of being trapped. I'm actually surprised that aspect got so unnoticed in theory crafting

10. Nina's dress changes color in every post, thats because I never saved it, and just guessed it everytime I colored it.

Speaking of colors, Most of the colors used in this comic are from the same palette as Character Pattern, another one of my games.

Also speaking of colors, I planned all characters to have a very minimalistic color palette for the monochrome sprite work, this caused me to mistake Vivis dress as red and her jacket as white, when originally her dress was black and her jacket was red. whoops.

11. The constant references to the cold are not just for the fact that its, indeed, cold. Its also beacuse most of the time everyone dies with heavy blood loss, which makes someone feel very cold

12. The pictures for the spooky Haunted house explanation look pretty normal without the heavy editing

They required a lot of shadows to make it less incredibly bright

except for this one

this one just looked like that. spooky.

I also had a cool picture of a shadow (me) in the mirror of a dark bathroom, sadly it wasnt dark enough because you could very clearly see the toilet paper. It got erased.

[crowlixcx]

Hi me again whoops i got some more and we've officially reached the sad ones now

Hold Back the River by James Bay tell me this doesn't scream the final fifteen😭

This Year's Love by David Gray, there's something about this song you know what i mean??

Ok enough of the sad songs now onto the cursed ones

Freak by Sub Urban solely because im obsessed with Rei Ami's snake look in the music video lmao

Drug by The Simple Creatures, just yeah vaguely cursed ineffable husbands vibes lol

Crawling by Linkin Park cause Crowley is a snake that crawls ?😂

Idk how i didn't see it sooner but Let Down by Dead by Sunrise is such a Crowley coded song?? Like every lyric is just him in the final fifteen right??? 'I don't wanna be let down / I don't wanna live that life again' --> Crowley not wanting to go back to heaven. And the other lyrics as well!! It suits so well (maybe not really relevant for your brainrot series but shh)

Our way Out by Nico Collins gives me Crowley trying to convince Aziraphale to run away to Alpha Centauri vibes lol (and the 'As long as you're beside me / I know that it'll be okay / We'll be okay' just adds an extra layer of pain🥲)

Another one by Nico Collins: On Accident, specifically the line 'Cause when we're with each other, yeah, we move too fast' aka you go too fast for me, Crowley 🥲

And now for the most cursed one (i think): Nothing Even Matters by Big Time Rush, yes you heard that right 😂

 Wow bestie you really said ‘brainrot? Hold my beer’ jshdgfjkngf okay i'll pick some out i'm only one woman

This Year's Love by David Gray - this gives me post S1 vibes like first year of freedom and hope but as we saw they just slipped into their old habits, brainrot lives in this song's walls

Crawling by Linkin Park - i think listening to this just gave me hives, a complete throw back to listen to Kerrang radio at age 11 thinking i was hardcore. Pure brainrot.

I very much see the Nico Collins visions but still brainrot vibes, it's deliciously tenuous and certainly forced and i'm here for it.

Nothing Even Matters by Big Time Rush is so up my street we're practically neighbours, more like Big Time Slay you bet its on the list

[jefferythejelly]

I gotta hear more about dogboy foolish 👀👀 -rutadales

@rutadales started this one recently and really like it so far, the idea started out silly and then i ended up doing a lot of worldbuilding and accidentally gave foolish a lot of trauma. whoops!

(also read more bc i talked a lot)

basic premise is that karl and nolan are roommates (similar to how it is now they just moved in with each other instead bc foosh as a streamer does not exist. bc he is a dogboy) and they decide to get a pet. after bickering back and forth about dog vs cat karl agrees to get a dog on the condition that nolan be the one to take care of adopting it and doing all the care stuff karl doesnt want to do. nolan ends up accidentally adopting a dogboy thru a shady website (foolish)

ok slight worldbuilding dump: hybrids in this universe were created by Science sometime in the Past (i am doing barely any research to make this make sense just play with me in this space) and a lot of misinfo was spread by their creator who claimed they were unintelligent and controlled by instincts (theyre basically like humans with animal features but it is omegaverse rules and theres alphas/omegas). in modern times they exist in more of a gray area where its still legal to own them as pets but they can become independent thru emancipation (i think thats the right word? i googled like one article about emancipation of minors thats kind of what im basing it off of. idk like i said barely any research im having fun fuck it we ball)

i'm kind of playing it fast and loose with the plot but the basic idea is karl (and nolan but mostly karl bc the fic is from his pov) trying to teach foolish to be an actual person while also dealing with all of his dogboy-isms (and past trauma. bc uhhhhh plot twist the place where foolish came from before being adopted by karl and nolan was like. the hybrid equivalent of a puppy mill. idk how it got slightly angsty it just happened)

theoretically it's endgame koolish also but it's gonna take a while to get there lmao

[artdecosupernova-writing]

Hi timespace love

Pick one (or a few) ocs and describe a typical outfit. And, of you're feeling fancy, a nicer outfit for some event. Reference photos are optional.

Hi! I'll talk a bit about Warren for this one 🙂

He's pretty happy with simple, comfortable clothes normally. Flannel shirts, baseball tees, t-shirts, hooded and bomber jackets, that kinda thing, put together with jeans and work boots.

The only other clothes he wears for special events (that aren't form suits and other than a negligible mention in Destiny) occur from book 3 and on, and they're pretty specific. The first outfit he buys on the Consortium Node in Rebirth (with help from Guetry) is a black ribbed tank top with corset stays and a sleeveless zippered hoodie that goes down to his knees, and stretchy black jeans that make him want to throw up the moment he tries them on for the first time lmao

When he gets married on the planet R'lis, he wears a pewter gray crushed velvet blazer with matching lounge pants, and no shirt (meanwhile Thrive steps up in like eighty pounds of thick cloak that's dragging on the floor pfft)

On a date with Thrive in Aurora, I kinda imagine him in a colorblock button-down t-shirt but then again I actually didn't give his outfit nearly as much thought as I did for Thrive's whoops the thirst was real for boTH OF US

other than all of that, he's generally in his casual stuff ☝🏽

[jupiter-reimagined]

The funniest thing about the "old enough to be your father" comic is the fact that Sylvester is not old enough to be Stone's father.

It's okay, Sylvester, you're not that old.

sylvester: my back begs to differ

bro feels ancient either way. also i sorta did him dirty for making him fully gray in his 40s. like. whoops lmao. at least hes not got male pattern baldness <3 because his father sure does