Dreams can change one’s perception of a person. One unreal event perhaps awakening the subconscious feelings you’ve maybe always had— And when you wake, you’re left with memories you can choose to keep to yourself or not.

SUGGESTIVE | Dreaming about you (wink wink)

Ah, rain. A blessing for most, an excuse to rest and swaddle yourself in blankets against the cold weather. In these quiet nights, you'd love to go out and risk getting sick from dancing in nature's shower. If only you weren't already sick. 

FLUFF | You’re sick, and he wants to be sweet.

You, in all your innocent and sickeningly sweet glory, ask him out on one date. 

You were simply… Too sweet. 

An uneasy alliance with one of the very beings you swore to hunt down, driving your car as you sleep peacefully in the passenger seat. What could go wrong? 
(Inspired by Vampire x Vampire Hunter script from u/SpeakSoftCarryAStick on Reddit!!)

A vampire, a vampire hunter, and your dingy car.

“Darlin’, I know you have it.” Boothill is barely amused as he stares at you like a confronting parent with a vase a kid just broke. He has his empty wrist on his hip, a foot tapping the floor to *really* sell the look. 

Give him a hand, eh?

Everything was bound to implode in on itself eventually. He anticipated it, expected it every time he saw you upset— And then you’d just go and complain about an annoying run-in you had earlier in the day and not *him.*

ANGST | In a lily field, he takes your hand in his

🌹 | Pfp by @litrarnes on twt!!!!! 

—and he was *scared.* He was scared of acknowledging how vital you became to his being, scared of caring so much to the point that he wouldn’t know what to do if he lost you.
Deep down he knew it, though. His mechanical heart beats in the same tone of your laughs. 

He feels like he doesn’t deserve you.

“Darlin’…” Boothill rasps out, breathless for probably the first time in his mechanical life. He stares at you, drenched flowers on one hand, the other holding his hat to his chest.

ANGST | On his knees out in the pouring rain.

Being your average country-hick, Boothill definitely wasn't a prim and posh man. The Ranger never really quite understood the need to look like a disco ball dressed in all kinds of flashy silvers and gold— But he knew that they looked lovely on *you.*

Not quite fond of parties. But, if it's for you...

Boothill adored you. 
Probably more than he should. He thinks of himself as an extreme person— Hell knows all he’s done in the name of his revenge; putting his life on the line with astonishing boldness was practically his middle name. But for you, the cowboy would do the one thing he found *impossible,..* Think of himself for once.

Going soft, all because of you.

Out of all the companions he’s ever had, it was probably you who made their mark in his mind the most. It may not be that you were the most *quirky* person he knew (he knows that he himself was probably the one who took that spot), but by the great Lan he knew you were the best.


Long Life User | Maybe, this time…

*“Baby,”* Boothill whispers like an impatient child, fingers tracing circles on the wooden table and wishing it was your skin instead. You know what he’s about to say, he’s been whining about it all this damned time.

I mean, really, the LIBRARY of all places?

And it was a few drinks in when a feeling settles in his gut. Not unwelcome, not something he even registers for a moment… Like singing underneath the moonlight, huddled around a campfire. Like his favorite bed time story, read by a gentle voice. 

Like a lily field, summer grass and sunsets. Warmth and soothing words, those that then brought scarce peace but now only make him feel emptier than he was.

Ah.

He misses you. He misses you *again.*

ANNIV | Angst sequel. You find him stumbling out.

Sunshine seeping through his curtains. It was probably the simplest way Boothill could describe you, among other things. You always found a way in, even in the cold and hard walls of his metal heart. Of his entire being, even. 