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hiii so i will be busy tomorrow and until further notice i will be taking a short break. you can find me on twitter as usual!

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ten fucking years its been in my head

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Ew gross. Get out of here you nasty misandrist piece of shit. Go spread your hatred somewhere else.

you don't know how happy this ask just made me

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Fandom spaces have GOT to stop finding out about concept art & saying they were supposed to have x or y. That’s not how concept art works, there isn’t a secret better show they decided to hide from you for no reason

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You're woken up by the soft sound of the front door clicking shut, the familiar (soothing, you've found after being with him so long) clink and chink of Boothill's spurs and metal body slowly approaching your room. He sounds tired. You had wondered before, how a cyborg, whose body is 90% metal, could possibly get tired. But after some time, you'd noticed the signs.

He'd get quiet - highly unusual for him. He'd sit and stare at his boots (well, feet technically...), fumble with his guns. Or he'd just sit completely still, lost in thought. He would perk back up as soon as you mentioned it though, brushing it off and getting right back to what he was supposed to be doing. Or just weaselling his way out of your concerned questions and stares before running off to do Aeons know what. He did give in to your inquiries of his wellbeing eventually, not verbally, but plopping himself down on you - refusing to let you go and hiding his face in your neck told you everything you needed to know. His body may not get 'tired' the same way anymore, but his mind is still the same as before.

You stir slightly as the bedroom doors opens, the book you had been reading before you fell asleep (you were going to wait for him to come back, it seemed you dozed off before he came home) falling to the floor. You groggily move to pick it up off the floor, but Boothill gets to it first. "Nu uh, lay back down, I'll get it." He sets the book down on the night stand while his other hand pets through your bedhead, before taking off his hat and placing it atop your book.

"C'mon, scooch over baby." You let out a little noise of discontent as he shoos you aside a bit, but you were sleeping on his side of the bed. It smells more like his hair, strawberry, along with the slightest hint of gunpowder that tries to push its way through the sweet smelling fruit scent. You had bought him that shampoo, he said it ruined his 'tough guy persona' - smelling like strawberries, but he stayed silent once your hands were tangled in his thick locks and rubbing at his scalp. His hair has gotten a lot softer since you bought it.

You yawn as you flop over to your side, blearily watching him take off what little clothes he has to change into something softer. For you, he had insisted. He'd wear all the silly, fluffy pajamas for you if it meant you wouldn't hurt yourself so much while sleeping on his metal, even if he looks silly. His belt and holstered gun are left next to his hat atop the night stand, before he sits down on the edge of bed to take out the spurs out of his heels. You stare at his back, following the messy strands of his hair, before your gaze drops down to the charging port on his lower back.

You can't help yourself, reaching to stick your fingers in it, fingertips barely brushing against the edge of it before he reaches behind him to grasp your fingers. "Sugar, y'know what happens when ya stick your hands into places they don't belong." His thumb idly strokes your knuckles, pulling your hand away. You huff, but you know it's likely not a good idea to try again. Last time you poked your finger into some random port on his body, and got a little shock (don't worry, he made sure to kiss it better), then you tried to stick your fingers into his mouth to feel his pointy teeth, only to get bitten. Better not stick your fingers where you don't need to...

His spurs and heels, which he has taken out of his 'feet' are left on the floor by the bed. He doesn't wanna hurt you on accident, he always says. You whine disgruntedly, practically sulking as in your mind, he's taking too long. You haven't seen him nearly all day. "I know, I know. Just a sec'." He pulls on a pair of fluffy, pink sweatpants that you had gotten him, he has little qualms with wearing things like this for you at this point.

"Now c'mere." He finally gets into bed, throwing the blanket over himself carelessly. You wriggle over to him, pushing a leg between his and accidentally bumping your head against his hard chest in excitement of getting to cuddle with him again. He rubs your sore forehead with his thumb, pressing his lips against it. "Tsk, tsk, told ya to be careful hundreds a'times sweetheart." You only let out an annoyed mumble, only clinging tighter to him and raising your head to press a kiss to his chewed-on lips. You'll need to get him on wearing chapstick again.

You happily curl into him as he holds you close, idly stroking through your hair as he nuzzles his face into it, taking in the scent of your shampoo. He doesn't get why you'd wanna be with this old hunk of metal, you could easily find, hell, get anyone else, anyone that's actually warm and soft. But no, you stubbornly stay with him. He's seen mules less stubborn than you. He knows he can't always stay, he wishes he could. One day he will. For now, he's content to come back to your open arms. You're here, warm and safe and happy, and waiting for his hell-damned ass every day. He doesn't get why you wait for this sore sight, but he'll come back, he always will. And you'll always wait for him.

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am i cooking be honest

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i think im projecting a little on this fic oh no

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ok so i was gonna ramble under this post yesterday but i got super carried away and ended up writing a fic. still wip, but i will share once i think its readyy

im having a hard time drawing properly rn, so tearful morgans for warmup. smth along the lines of him having a hard time being honest with his feelings so the dam breaks at the last second. first pic in particular is him begging for things to be the way they were before because it was easier.

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My favourite cowboy (boothill fanart)

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heyyyeyeyeyy girlfriend

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i bad a horrable dream

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im having a hard time drawing properly rn, so tearful morgans for warmup. smth along the lines of him having a hard time being honest with his feelings so the dam breaks at the last second. first pic in particular is him begging for things to be the way they were before because it was easier.

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The thing with using 🍇 instead of just saying rape is that if you really need to avoid censors you could use phrases that already exist like forced upon or violated or something else. 🍇 is genuinely the worse possible thing to use when talking about a serious topic and no I never want to see anyone use it when talking about something that happens in real life. It’s genuinely so stupid

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this is my favorite youtube thumbnail-title combo of all time. his slightly friendly but not actually happy smile. the straightforward, utilitarian title - "jerma streams seaman". the thumbnail not showing the game at all. eleven hours.

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in another universe, boothill is a beautiful butch lesbian