#my Boothill hyperfixation is going HARD rn omg

[outivv]

FUCK I CANT STOP THINKING ABOUT BOOTHILL WITH HIS LITTLE GIRL

Boothill who would always take her on little horseback rides to calm her down when nothing else worked. Bundling her up nicely, holding her with one arm, while holding his horse reins with the other, and going slow while taking calming paths that he knew were safe for his little girl to calm down.

Boothill who would always be caught slacking off, taking a little nap in the sun with his daughter and when one of his siblings or dads would find him, he’d just say “well, my little girl wanted to take a nap, so that’s what we did.” Always using the baby as an excuse.

Boothill who is a damn pro at handling babies. He had to a lot with his siblings, always seeming to see the house grow bigger, and always seeming to have one more mouth to feed when he was growing up, not that anyone minded, or that it was a problem, Boothill’s family was always welcoming. So, when finding his little girl out in the middle of nowhere, bawling her eyes out- Boothill immediately knew what to do, and how to take care of her properly.

Boothill who would always coo at his daughter when she got sleepy. He took her most places with him, especially hanging around the house with her- and she always got so sleepy from all the excitement of Boothill’s family who’s just as rowdy as he is. Playing with Boothill’s younger siblings, since she was just so little- and Boothill always kept such a close eye on her, making sure she was okay, but sometimes she’d just fall asleep sitting up.

Boothill who would play his daughter songs on his guitar, watching her little hands try and copy him by just hitting the thing, before he’d scoop her up into his arms and pepper kisses all over her face, saying how she’s a master musician already! Now he doesn’t pick up a guitar anymore. Only thinking of her little hands playing the instrument by hitting the strings, and he can’t listen to the harmonious chords the same anymore.

Boothill who now thinks of his daughter everywhere he goes. Sees her cute little face in every kid he sees, wishing she could grow up like them, and live a damn good life that he would give her.

Boothill who made a makeshift memorial for his daughter in the form of a locket he was gonna give her when she was older, but now Boothill carries it around with him in his pocket. It doesn’t have anything in it, but it’s the memory of why he has it in the first place that matters.

Boothill also has a small piece of fabric that he carries with him. It was from her blankie that was always with her, but now it’s all tattered and half burned off… so he keeps it nicely tucked away from anyone who may even think of touching it, and ruining it.

Boothill who will sometimes buy child toys, more just… because he wishes he would give it to his daughter. Instead he ends up giving it to some random kid, or returning it cause he feels bad.

Boothill who still sings lullabies that would put his daughter right to sleep when she was being fussy, or quite stubborn for a baby. He doesn’t really sleep, but when he wishes he could, wishes he could fall asleep in the sun one more time with his daughter on his chest, he sings, or hums one of her favorite lullabies to at least relax himself.

Boothill who misses his daughter’s laugh, her smile, her little waddles when she was barely learning to walk before she passed, and he even misses her cries. He just misses her.