#I’m sorry for taking so long

[starryiguess]

Heya :)

I was wondering if you could write some reader angst with Boothill (maybe reader gets poisoned, injured, nearly drowns etc.)

Hi i0fty, thank you for requesting! Originally, this was supposed to be a short fanfic, but my friend 🕶️ wanted to collaborate too so you got a really long fanfic! Apologies for taking so long but I hope you enjoy it!

————————————————————————

Hurt! Reader with Boothill

Warning: Themes of anxiety, blood, guns mentioned, hurt no comfort, and ambiguous ending

Word Count: 930

🕶️ -

“Where are you going now?”

You sighed, eyes staring at Boothill’s hurrying figure as he scrambled to find the location of his lost hat. He’s so focused on finding it that he unintentionally ignored your question, but you already knew the answer.

“Son of a gun—where is it?”

You could see the panic in his movements, the slight crunching of the metal that made up his body as he flipped things over…very gently. The books you had set on your shelves were opened slightly, his eye peeking through the pages. At this point, he was getting delusional.

“It’s not here… dang! I could’ve sworn I put it here last night..” His hands rest on the table next to your bed, grasping onto emptiness with an expectation that the hat would appear out of thin air. After a few more minutes of slight panic, desperation, and finally acceptance, Boothill huffs as he sits down next to you. You felt the familiarity of cold metal against your skin as he held your hand. His eyes search for signs of sympathy on your face…until he sees his beloved hat upon your head.

Your face wasn’t showing sympathy, it was showing annoyance. The “I can’t come with you…and I know, but it gets crazy boring around here” face. Last night was therapeutic, and you’re too attached to your robotic boyfriend to let him go on these dangerous missions, not to mention the fact that your anxiety was going through the roof. Boothill’s mouth curls into a stupid grin, seemingly as if he was reading your mind.

“Missing me already, huh?”

You wanted to punch him, but you would just end up with swollen knuckles. Deep inside your heart, burrowed underneath everything, there was an ache. It was increasingly harder every time he went away to subdue this ache.. it was like a migraine that never completely disappears. You were scared. Scared for him, scared that he would go one day and never come back. Scared that his beautiful features would be painted in blood. Scared that his eyes would witness unspeakable scenes. Scared that he would lose his way back to the comfort of your home. Boothill is a mind reader when it comes to you. Still, you always found it surprising that he was so capable of pinpointing the exact emotions that were flowing through your being, but you know he knows you.

“Sugarplum, I’m gonna’ be alright. You don’t need to worry about me.” His filtered laughs filled the room with warmth. “I’m like, 80% metal, in case you forgot. Even if someone caught me off guard—which has never happened before— and got their puny hands on me, they would get a hard-“ash” punch to their head. See?” Boothill patted his “biceps” with a reassuring smile. Gosh, you were so in love with this cheesy man.

“Yeah.. yeah-you’re right.” You breathed out, anxiety melting away slowly at his words. “Just—hm. Just be careful, alright? I don’t want you coming back late. Twelve is the time you have to be back.”

Your words caused Boothill to laugh softly into his hand. You could see him laugh. You could see how he was struggling to comprehend his curfew. You could see sincerity creeping into his face.

“Alright. Ya’ got yourself a promise.”

Boothill’s fluttering kiss on your cheek was quick and sweet, but two seconds later he was standing beside your room window, one hand opening it up while the other tilted his hat as a goodbye. You wondered when exactly he swiped it off of you. Midnight. He should be back by then, right?

It was one in the morning. Midnight had passed and your shoes had already been put on. Your coat was stretched over your back, your hands slid into the sleeves. Your door was unlocked and you ran. You ran for the fear of never seeing him again. You ran with blurry eyes and adrenaline. You ran without thinking. You ran until the ringing of gunshots registered through your ears. You stopped running, and you could see Boothill.

“I found you.” Joy and relief flooded through your body, and you had a million things to say to him. But why?

Why was it hard to speak? Why was it hard to keep your eyes open? Questions rang around in your head. Was Boothill saying something? You couldn’t hear him. There was something wet on your face, was he crying? Your eyes are tired.

You decided to let them rest, just for a little while.

⭐️-

You shouldn’t be here right now. No. No. No! He could faintly hear gunshots echo in the room, but Boothill only focuses on you. A pool of crimson envelops your silhouette. Eyes closed. His hands have blood, your blood. He curses, or tries to really.

Disbelief. Anger. Fury. Boothill whips out his gun and starts shooting at the perpetrators. Splats of their blood are now on the walls. They stopped moving after a while yet he still shoots. The gun clicks from the lack of bullets in the chamber. Because of them, no, himself, you’re gravely hurt.

His eyes dart back to your unresponsive form. Boothill kneels down then carries you. Quick, but not too hasty to prevent the bleeding from worsening. His right hand on your shoulder, left arm under your knees, and your head resting on his shoulder. Boothill doesn’t know where he’s running to, but you need help immediately.

“You’ll be okay.” He doesn’t know if he’s trying to convince you or himself. His voice gets desperate and cracks.

“You have to be.”

[techza-polls]

Me and Gecko are thinking about making a Techza week for Halloween! We already decided the days and the prompts and we would love if you guys could participate too! Would you guys be interested in participating or seeing it?

Yes!!!

No.

[otomes-and-tears]

Hi Bee! Sorry not to pressure you or anything at all!! I was just wondering if you were still continuing the Nevra fics, or if you kind of felt complete with them? I still love reading them time to time, so I was curious! But if you don’t plan on it that’s totally chill!

I fully intend on finishing the main fic and writing a few oneshots with Nevra’s pov! My interests did shift from Eldarya, but I still have a lot of love for the chartacters and the story. Not to mention, I’d hate to leave it unfinished. I like keeping to my promises lol

I’ve had a new chapter half written for months but for whatever reason I can never figure out what happens next 😭

But yeah. In a few days I’ll be officially on break from university and I’ll have more time to write in general :)

[cowardlykrow]

Stop light shenanigans

Extra:

[hungharrington]

Thinking about Steve cumming quickly - like under 30 seconds of thrusting because he's just so in love with you he couldn't help it

He hides his face in your neck afterwards all embarrassed and you rub his back to bring him back down from the intensity of it all

To add to this - he also has certain triggers that make him cum immediately.

You say you love him, he cums. You scratch at his tummy/happy trail, he cums. You gently pull on his hair, he cums.

My apologies if these thoughts have already been given but it's all I've been thinking about this morning 😭😭

a most delicious ask i’ve been hoarding 🫶 i LOVE all these thoughts i’m sry i didn’t get to incorporate all of them !! is this hot? idk…. but it’s got sum love in it tehe MDNI this entire blog is 18+

Look, Steve Harrington doesn’t have his reputation for nothing, okay?

He’s a ladies man, through and through. He knows exactly what he’s doing with his hands, he loves getting his face in between a pair of thighs, and perhaps most importantly, he is not a minute man.

Steve Harrington has stamina.

At least, he certainly thought he did— but that was before you. But in his defense, nobody told him that sex is a hundred times better when you love the person. A thousand better if they love you back.

And, god, does he fucking love you.

You’re a dream— all laid out on the bed beneath him, chest bare and eyes soft and heavy. Your lips are sheened with spit and all kiss-bitten and Steve has no doubt he looks the same. Kissing you never gets old. His cock throbs, aching for some friction and just begging to be buried inside you.

“Well?” You say, somewhere between a tease and a breathy gasp. “What’re you waiting for?”

Your fingers slip into the waistband of your panties but Steve is quick to knock them away, replacing them with his own hands. He grins up at you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Can’t let you do my favourite part now, can I?”

You giggle. With that his fingers start to trail down your naval, slow and sensually, dragging the fabric with them. Your hips move to accommodate him and your breath hitches as he drags them down your thighs that part as he wrangles them off your ankles, inviting him in.

Steve nearly groans at the mere sight—a hot surge twisting in his tummy that goes straight to his cock. God, he must be losing blood with how much blood is rushing to harden it up. Or maybe he’s just too enamoured with you and that’s enough to make him breathless. Either way, he’s aching.

“God, baby,” He says, voice gravelly. “Just look at you.”

His hands shift up from grasping lightly at your ankles up, up, up, til he’s nudging your thighs apart further. His dark eyes flick up to your face, his expression one of hunger.

“Y’so pretty, honey,” He coos.

You flush, feeling somehow more naked at his compliment, knowing he’s being sincere. Reaching up, you drape your hand around his neck and urge him forward slowly, pressing up to scrape your lips against his.

“Oh, yeah?” You breathe, your lips twitching up at the obvious way Steve’s breath catches in his throat. “Which part of me’s so pretty?”

Steve chuckles, his gaze switching between your own and says, “All of you,” before he kisses you like he’s starved of the taste of you.

Breaking the kiss, he leans back and his hand disappears into his bedside table for a condom. He makes quick work of it, pausing to give himself a firm squeeze around the base as he does— fuck, he’s going to bust the moment he gets inside of you if he doesn’t take a moment.

But you’re so damn hot — and eyeing him with a heavy desire that makes his tummy hot. He’s not sure he can wait.

He shifts himself up and settles on his hands on your thigh, pushing it back further so he can line himself up and sink in tantalisingly slow. Your cunt is warm and wet, drawing a whiny moan from his throat, and Steve’s head drops into the curve of your shoulder in an instant.

“Fuck,” He hisses, hips flexing to hold back from pushing himself all the way in—a near impossible task considering the breathy little noise you make. God, fuck, fuck, he can’t move another inch or he’ll lose it. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” He gasps.

Your arms looped around his neck tighten, pressing your chest up against his as you make a noise of agreement. You begin to mouth lazily up his throat, feeling the throb of his cock between your legs like a heartbeat, burning hotter and hotter.

“Cmon, Steve,” you whisper, nibbling at his earlobe. Steve keens, his hips shoving forward bit more as he tries to contain himself. “Want you to fuck me,”

He makes another pitiful noise that he’d probably be embarrassed of if he wasn’t so gone. He follows your instructions quickly, shifting his hips so he can start slowing fucking into you. It’s lewd, soft wet noises sounding as he builds up a rhythm, sinking himself into you over and over. Pleasure drools through his gut.

“Stevie,” you pout, panting lightly. “Can’t— can’t see you,” You tug on his hair lightly, trying to encourage his face out of hiding but only succeeding in making him whimper. His cheeks burn hotly but he forces his face up, kissing along your jaw as he does.

His eyes crease open as he pulls back and Steve keens at the sight of you, his plush lips parting in a soft pant. Fuck, what was wrong with him? Normally he’d be still murmuring filthy things into your skin, marking up your neck while his hips roll into you, all does that feel good? and oh, it does when you moan in response.

Instead, he’s the one coming apart and beyond his words. You scrape your hand through his hair again and leave it cupped sweetly on his jaw, your eyes watching closely. Swatching your thumb across his cheek, you moan lightly, “Wanna -uh- wanna see your face, baby— love your pretty face,”

Something tightens up in Steve’s tummy, heat flourishing up his spine and he whimpers loudly, the roll of his hips turning the rapid, jerky thrusts in a moment. Skin slaps against skin and you make the cutest noise at the change of pace. It feels so good—too good. He feels too close, his pleasure scratching the edge of release.

Then you stutter out a breathy, “I love you, Steve,” and the coil in his stomach snaps without warning.

Steve gasps loudly and his entire body tightens, his face burying itself in you neck as his hips fuck into your snug cunt desperately. He all but collapses onto you, his hands curling around your waist tightly as he lets out a string of pathetically whiny noises, coming undone far too quickly.

It takes a moment for you to realise what’s happened— to figure out exactly why Steve suddenly sinks him cock into you with fervor and is whimpering in your ear. He’s trembling lightly you realise, as your arms sweep down his back, letting him fuck through his orgasm.

The pleasure of it drags out and by the time it tapers out, mortification begins to set in. Steve’s only glad he’s hidden his face so you can’t see his flaming cheeks. Fuck. Fuck. He’s never finished that fast before.

“I’m so sorry, you just feel— and you said—” He starts, voice sounding wrecked.

“Don’t apologise,” you interrupt sweetly. You stroke down his back soothingly and Steve can’t help but shiver. He groans loudly.

“Don’t apologise for finishing after 1 minute like a 16 years old virgin?” He asks, going for sarcastic but failing with the embarrassment tinting his tone.

You can’t help but giggle, hand still sweeping over his back comfortingly as you say, “I don’t think that was even a minute, babe.”

Steve groans louder, attempting to press his face further into your neck and nipping at it when you laugh a little louder. You’re being way too sweet about this. Steve’s not sure he can ever show his face again.

“I’m banning you from saying ‘i love you’ in bed,” He says, the words muffled against your skin. You huff another laugh, grinning, and comb your fingers through his hair.

“Boo.” You pout, knowing he’s joking completely. You’re still throbbing and aching for him to keep moving but you know you only have to be patient. He’ll fuck you just as you need it. “You’re no fun.”

“I used to have stamina,” He whines. “What have you done to me?”

You chuckle again, turning and pressing a kiss to his temple as best you can. “Turned you full loverboy. Soon enough, any time I say I love you, you’ll pop a boner.”

From within you, you feel the soft twitch of his dick and Steve’s breath hitches again. He finally digs his face out of your neck, a serious furrow between his brows. “Don’t even joke about that!”

[itsaprosthetic]

we are so back

We are so back

[bloobydabloob]

Holy shit I love your Dirk interpretations, it's so true and I could talk about this shit forever. I feel like another part of his character that people seem to forget (along with Roxy for some reason) is that he's from the future in solitude in an apocalyptic wasteland. I just see that part of his character always removed which is disappointing because I feel like that's a pretty big part, especially regarding his themes around technology, his brother's theme of Time, his own isolation, and how he plays in the vastness of the universe and spacetime.

Art I drew related to the subject because I like to respond to asks with art.

But absolutely. I certainly understand where the lack of discussion over his isolation + upbringing comes from, considering a majority of the fanbase that I have seen builds their ideas based on their own version of postcanon. I’m not entirely sure how that would be fixed, but certainly even in the somewhat recent past I would see a lot more content regarding his upbringing both literally and symbolically. I don’t have much to add regarding the things you’ve mentioned, because they just are what they are. Dirk being confined to a singular room left to him by a father figure he never met, in a future where the only other person left on the planet is someone he cannot pursue a relationship of because of himself, with purely 3 robots to keep him companion, one being an exact replica of his own brain who is *also* trapped inside a pair of glasses, is about as literal as it gets to me.

The contrast to me involving the flooded, organic world in comparison to the little speckle of Dirk’s apartment packed with the dude and his technics is not only a representation of his isolation and entrapment within himself, but also of his lack of control. I think his obsession with & themes of control are a direct product in the case of Dirk specifically *of* this kind of upbringing. His themes of technology are also related to his themes around control. So much of his character is actually revolved around this to me like so much. Dirk is so deeply disconnected from humanity in every way and so much of his character + symbolism is based around that.

It doesn’t even have to be about the symbolism or anything though. It’s just pretty *interesting* in the literal sense that he lives in the middle of the ocean in the future. There’s not only a lot to theorise on to do with his young life there, but on how it might affect him in the way he acts for the rest of his life. The latter part is probably what I see mentioned the most by people talking about Dirk regarding this, I’m surprised I don’t see more discussion on the former too though. I really ought to actually talk more about Homestuck stuff on here. I will do it myself.

Roxy & Dirk’s relationship is largely ignored though because there is a narrative a certain demographic spreads that Dirk resented and blamed Roxy for her interest in him, and thus too many people believe that their relationship was or would continue to be an abusive one. Realistically, I believe it’s important to acknowledge that the way Roxy treated Dirk regarding his homosexuality wasn’t right while still acknowledging the obvious amount of respect and admiration Dirk had for Roxy. I mean we have a huge piece of dialogue from their post trickster mode conversations on the quest beds from Dirk purely stating how he feels about Roxy that people completely ignore somehow. I think this usually happens to characters that are women though. I know everyone says it, but it is true. Jane gets the exact same treatment of boiling her down to solely her negative aspects. The things I see completely mischaracterising both of them are horrific.

I mean how much more explicit can it get that their relationship is obviously very important to Dirk? But I digress. I think the best or I should say “most interesting” interpretations of their relationship usually come from DirkRoxy shippers actually.

I would be interested to hear about Dirk’s relation to his brother’s theme of time though. I don’t have any thoughts on this and I don’t recall ever hearing anyone talk about it before. If you or anyone else would be willing to enlighten me I’d be thrilled.

[izzystizzys]

There is a scratch mark on the floor of the Council chambers that Mace has never noticed before. Not a deep one, mind, quite shallow. This matters because it’s making the white-hot pulse of agony stabbing through his eyeballs ebb momentarily. Then, he chances a glance upwards at the fidgeting Knight in front of them, and it returns in full force.

Huh, he’s never seen Oppo Rancisis’ face turn that colour before.

“Hmm”, Master Yoda hums, deep and scratchy. His expression is unreadable even to Mace beyond a baseline gremlinness, and the force with which he grips the edges of his seat is making his bones creak. Master of the Order you should become, they said. Follow the calling of the Force, you should. A fulfilling purpose, it will be. Mace is going to hunt the little goblin for sport when this is all over, and he’s going to laugh the whole time.

“Show us the livestream again, could you, Knight Parvo?” Yoda asks. Mace bursts a capillary, he’s pretty sure, and so does poor Knight Parvo, whose orange Mon Cala skin tips all the way into blood red with stress. “Most unusual, this is.”

“Absolutely not!”, Ki Adi intervenes before Mace has to, thank the Force for little mercies. Plo Koon’s tusks tremble slightly with either suppressed laughter or abject horror, maybe both, and Stass Allie has her head in her hands. “The holo stills should be enough”, Ki Adi proceeds to add, and Mace has to reconsider all feelings of grace he just felt towards his fellow Councillor.

He never wants to watch Yoda zoom in on someone’s abs again. Or Depa raise her eyebrows at the curve of thighs bent over the dripping front of a speeder.

“Speeder Wash For Our Troops”, his former padawan reads out loud from a still of what has to be hundreds of the things gathered in the public senate parking lot. “Fund Our Boys And Get A Wet Seeing-To!” The series of images features dozens of Coruscant Guard troopers in various stages of unkitted, gleaming and shining with soap suds and water. The fact that the whole thing is also massive shatterpoint after massive shatterpoint is, quite frankly, insulting.

“Well hello- oh dear”, Obi-Wan’s blue form crackles to life in his chair, followed by several sounds of choking that are definitely not him. Good, Mace thinks acidly. If he has to deal with this, then so does kriffing Skywalker. “I’m sorry, why am I looking at Commander Thorn using a washrag like a lasso on top of a speeder?”

“Oh, the Guard’s little fundraising project”, Bail Organa says, as he steps into the Council chambers. Normally, Mace likes the man well enough. Now, he just smiles and adds on, “I’ve already donated, in mine and Breha’s name. Remotely, of course.”

“The Guard’s fundraising speeder wash?”, Obi-Wan repeats, edges of his holo form flickering with what Mace suspects is Skywalker very unsubtly trying to edge in. Force, but the man really is horrible at any and all stealth, like kissing his secret wife in an open arena in front of his Master. “And they are fundraising for…?”

“GAR budget allocations have to come from somewhere”, Organa shrugs. “And with the tide of public opinion turning, they’ve been tending towards cuts. The Guard feels them more keenly than any other sector - they’ve been reduced from half to quarter rations, and medical supplies have not made more than a token appearance in the last draft. The Chancellor has cancelled three consecutive meetings on the matter, and thus it was agreed that a more hands-on approach was needed. Any surplus will go into the Army fund.”

“Surely it can’t be that dire”, Oppo protests, a slightly less concerning shade of purple now. Senator Organa shrugs again, jostling the smattering of cracks slowly building around his person in a way that makes Mace wince quietly. “It’s all publicly available data, Masters.”

It really can be that dire, as it turns out. And quarter rations is only scratching the surface of how dire, considering the Guard has apparently never had access to bacta in all their posting, and also includes requisitioning forms available to the Senate for reconditionings and decommissionings, two words Mace has only heard Ponds whispers amidst shuddering in the early days of the war before Shaak Ti went off and just about tore some throats out over it.

“Alright”, he concedes, rubbing at his temples. “Fair enough, we have failed to tackle a massive blind spot in the Guard’s well being. There is no Jedi assigned to Coruscant, and that’s an oversight on our behalf. But how in the everloving kriff did this get past the Chancellor and Commander Fox?!”

Who have both signed, black on white. Bail Organa smiles cryptically. “Well, if you scroll a bit past that one image, up to the industrial speeder in the back - Commander Fox is currently having credits stuffed into his codpiece in the back, I believe.”

“HE’S WHAT IN THE WHAT NOW”, Commander Cody screeches through the speaker of Obi-Wan’s holo image, and Mace has to summon every bit of Jedi-serenity he possesses in his body to keep from dropkicking a cackling Yoda through the chamber windows.

[timethehobo]

Preorders coming soon hehe.

[bluebutlikenotalways]

Now THAT’S what I call a wet dream hahahahaaahaaaaahAAAaaahaaaaaaaaAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

I know this is the only part you care about

also I got all the character references from cosmicwhore because they literally the one who got me into these two in the first place

[xx-sketchy-xx]

Cause he’s a phantom

[gavonosc]

I tthink you should draw clovssues (clover x tissues ii) 🥹🥹🥹🥹 /not forcefu

Finally working on almost year old asks Yayay!!

Tyty for the askkk :]

[lesbow]

❌: *watching Camp Cretaceous and Chaos Theory to keep up with Jurassic World continuity*

✅: *watching Jurassic World to keep up with Camp Cretaceous and Chaos Theory continuity*

[artiificiial]

could you draw odysseus and penelope ?

the bride and the ugly ass groom

[turtleblogatlast]

Things I make for myself when insomnia kicks in

Just a chart about what I wanna change up and keep consistent in my art - I mainly wanna draw Raph with a tail because he deserves one, it fits too well. Donnie gets a long tail too because I didn’t realize how dino-like he looks until I gave him one, and now it’s a must for me haha.

[canon-gabriel-quotes]

Transcript:

You’ve been a very naughty little fucking thing, Machine.

You killed... a lot. Pretty much everybody. Pretty much everybody you encountered, you killed.

That is why, with extreme prejudice, I sentence you to gay baby jail.

May you rust in there forevermore.

Your only source of entertainment? Twitch.tv/getgianni

Now if you’ll excuse me, I'm going to go bot on TF2.

Audio source