hi! my name is katze! I would love to write for you! (=ïœÏÂŽ=)
currently writing for demon slayer: kimetsu no yaiba, honkai star rail, and genshin impact!
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special event: katzeâs 500 follower writing cat-baret!
Ë àŒâĄ âïœĄË â regarding askbox/requests!
my asks are always open for whatever comments, questions, headcanons, or thoughts you want to bring to me!
requests are also always open, but they arenât first come first serve!! I will pick and choose ones that I enjoy (=^-Ï-^=)
âč click me to get to the askbox!
Ë àŒâĄ âïœĄË â recent works!
âč mundanities (ft. jing yuan)Â - how jing yuan acts post-work + on weekends
âč old scars die hard (ft. sampo, kafka, jing yuan)Â - though the wounds of the past do not fade very fast, theyâre willing to stand by you
âč mr. cold feet (ft. sampo)Â - sampo has once again taken an alias and a dirty job, but youâre not about to let him get away with it
Tagging @tivosstuff @meefy @wri0thesley and anyone that wants to do it & hasn't been tagged yet because tumblr doesn't want to make names pop up and my brain is fried tonight
aah thank you for the tag!!! born in the wrong universe . . . hmm! tagging: @hazgojo @abbacchiosbelt @nanamimizz @magicalbats and anyone else who also may want to do it, tagging makes me nervous lest everyone secretly hate me!!!
Thanks for tagging me, Nat! I could never secretly hate you btw. lol I would go to war for you any day at any moment if only youâd just ask me to. đ«¶
As it turns out though Iâm not much better at tagging people, haha. Omg let me see. @meaningofaeons @rabbbitseason @vasiktomis @chickenparm @softyswork uhhhh and anyone else who wants to do it! I always love seeing everyoneâs picrews! đ„șâ€ïž
so, my sweet darling baby smartcar has been destroyed by a teenager running a red light and is non-repairable. it's really going to put a strain on the ole wallet considering i need that car to make a living.
i'm not destitute, i won't be kicked out of my home, i can survive off ramen and grilled cheeses for the near future, but if anyone feels like tossing a couple bucks my way just to lighten the load on bills that would be cool. no pressure.
anyway here's my ko-fi and if you'd rather do paypal just dm me for that one.
Okay, my Kinktober pieces are once again being put on hold. Apologies to everyone whoâs been waiting for me to (finally) wrap up that project but this takes priority before anything else.
As you may or may not have seen in my last rb, my good friend ChickenParm is going through it right now and while I will be sending her some assistance on my own thereâs only so much I can do by myself. Iâm one person with a limited amount of money I can spare. But if a few of us can pitch in a little bit here or there I think we can all make a big difference together.
And since some of you have been asking about commissioning me, hereâs your chance!
How it will work: đŠ
1. Refer to the pricing list below, decide how much you want to spend and then donate that amount to the link Parm provided in her post
2. DM me with a screenshot of the donation and tell me what you want. Barring the Hard Noâs listed on my carrd Iâll write anything at all you want. I will be double checking with her to ensure everything is in order so please donât try to pull one over on me (Iâll cry đą)
3. ???
4. Profit! Uh, i mean enjoy your fic!
Pricing: đŠ
The word counts listed below are going to be set minimums for the corresponding price. Iâm a natural born yapper so I might go over that a little, or even a lot, but this is how weâll determine the general range of the fic you want.
$10 or under = 1000 words
$20 = 2000 words
$30 = 3000 words
$40 = 4000 words
$50 = 5000 words
And so on.
Commissions will be handled on a first come first serve basis so if youâre interested please donât hesitate to act now. Iâm not sure how many people will actually want to take me up on this offer but I figured it was worth a shot since Iâve gotten asked about this in the past. Parm is an excellent writer and a very good friend, and Iâd like to help her out as much as I possibly can. Iâll write for 48 hours straight if thatâs what it takes to fulfill everyoneâs commissions so please dont worry about overwhelming me with too much all at once!
so, my sweet darling baby smartcar has been destroyed by a teenager running a red light and is non-repairable. it's really going to put a strain on the ole wallet considering i need that car to make a living.
i'm not destitute, i won't be kicked out of my home, i can survive off ramen and grilled cheeses for the near future, but if anyone feels like tossing a couple bucks my way just to lighten the load on bills that would be cool. no pressure.
anyway here's my ko-fi and if you'd rather do paypal just dm me for that one.
â â your least favourite cyborg is brought back to you a mangled mess.
â OR
â â being boothillâs mechanic when you lowkey canât stand each other.
â ïž sweet sweet tension, a little suggestive towards the end, gn reader (no referring pronouns), can they fuck already, this was ib by his lightcone, wc 1.9k
boothill's eyes flickered to life, emitting a faint glow of red as his systems began to reboot.
a pair of familiar red pupils met yours, two crosshairs fading into sight as boothill regained his sight andâ to your dismayâ consciousness.
as the cyborg regained his motion he attempted a step forward, only to realise he didnât have the feet or legs to do so. the only thing keeping him powered on were some metal claws screwed into his back and a few loose cables connecting to your terminals.
âsugar plum,â boothill's scruffy voice cut through the silence. âdo y'care to explain where my legs mightâa run off to?â
you actually cocked an eyebrow. how the hell were you supposed to know? boothill was brought back to you in a mess of scraps and wiringâ the damn hunk of metal was lucky you made him as blast proof as possible and he was left salvageable.Â
âcare to tell me how the hell you got this roughed up?â
you asked in turn, crouching down to look at the detached and ruined internals of boothill's torso where the stand-in wires were connected. you ran a finger carefully along the edge of his shredded metallic stomach.
âguess i didn't make you as smart as i thought. time for a newer model, maybe?â
boothill's eyes flickered down to his missing lower half, then to your hand that was more or less caressing him. it was amazing how much annoyance they could show in all their artificial glory.
âlook whoâs talkin.â the cowboy grumbled, pointy fangs poking out in an irritated grin.Â
âhow âbout, âgee, boothill! iâm real glad yâainât get blown to smithereens beyond repair!ââÂ
âit would've been less work for me if whoever blew you up finished the job.â
you sighed as you stood up, putting a hand lazily on your hip.
âhowâd it happen?â
boothill bit back another argument with a gruff chuckle.
âsome real cutie-pies i was huntinâ down had a lilâ more firepower than i expected. guess they didnât appreciate me spoilinâ their party.â
boothill visibly cringed as his insult was substituted with some cutesy nickname mid explanation.
âand can you fix my beautiful synesthesia beacon already? this thing is drivinâ me up the wall.â
the request fell on deaf ears as your fingers typed something on your laptop, likely another string of code.
âyouâre more concerned about your censor than how long itâs gonna take me to put your legs back onâŠâ you sighed to yourself, still leaned over your workbench, eyes focused on your screen.
âi'm not touching it right now. youâre lucky iâm even letting you stay sentient after this.â
boothill snorted at the remark, brows furrowing in a steady grimace.
âwell, âscuse me for wantinâ to speak freelyâ iâm a grown man!â his pointy teeth shone as they peeked out again in a grin.
âyâknow what? just leave yer lilâ tools and all the pieces thereâ iâll get my legs back on myself. donât need no charity work from the likesâa you.â he laughed. âheck, may even give myself a new pecker while i'm at it!â
the mechanic had half a mind to listen, sit back and watch boothill struggle to reassemble himself just to prove a point and simultaneously bask in his embarrassment when the former realised it wasnât possible.
(not that he wouldâve admitted defeatâ you would have begrudgingly stepped in and helped before he inevitably messed up his wiring more.)
you stepped back over to boothill, hands moving to hold his cheeks so you could tilt his face side to side to check for any more damage.
âcool it, cowboy.â your eyes squinted in focus as they looked at boothill's, lightly tugging up on his eyelid to check for scratches or cracks.
âi'll get you back up and running, just lose the attitude already.â
boothill's eyes narrowed as he felt your touch on his face. the temperature difference of warm fingers on his cold, mechanical body stirring an oddity where his gut should have been. though he tried to ignore it, the sensation was there, clear as day against all his artificial nerve endings.Â
âreal easy for you to say,â he huffed, avoiding your eyes as he was examined like a broken toy. âletâs see how peachy you are when yer all strung up and legless, love muffin.â
that censor really was gonna drive him insane.
âjust get it over with.'' boothill muttered in annoyance. âand try not tâfuss anythinâ up.â
it took quite some time, as expected, for you to successfully reattach boothillâs legs and fix his mangled midsection. when you were finally finished, you tugged out any leftover wires that connected boothill to your terminals and pushed back in your wheelie chair to beckon the cowboy forward. you pushed your glasses up to your forehead, some hair getting swept out of your eyes with them.
âfeel fine?â
boothill rolled his ankles and bent his knees, giving his legs a good stretch to test their mobility.
âmighty fine,â he responded, satisfied to feel they were weighted and moved the same as before. âthough i canât say iâm lovinâ the breeze up my backside.âÂ
boothill glanced down at himself, steel body completely bare and lacking any of his signature clothing.Â
âgot my pants lyinâ around anywhere, sugar plum?â
you pointed to another table in the room, where boothills clothesâ (or rather the new ones you had to go and getâ) were neatly folded, his hat placed on top of them.Â
boothill went to get himself dressed, hoisting up his bell bottomed pants and sliding on his jacket. he stole a glance in your direction every so often, resisting the childish urge to roll his eyes at the mere sight of you.
the artificial man hit a small bump in the road as he went to zip his jacket (could you really call it that with how little it covered?) upâ his fingers werenât responding as well as they should have been. he could open and close his fist, but lacked the precision to pinch and hold the zipper.
âhey, honeybun,'' boothill called over to you with a furrowed brow. âdidnât i tell you not to go fudginâ anythinâ up?â
you, in all your overtired glory groaned, turning around in your chair and waving boothill back over.
boothill's footsteps were clunky and loud as he stomped his way back over to his mechanic.
you reached for his hand, an uncharacteristic gentleness in your touch as you examined five mechanical fingers.
âmake a fist,â
boothill obeyed, curling his fingers into his palm.
âopen it,â
he obeyed again, letting them open and relax.
âhold up two fingers,â
boothill tried, but his fingers got stuck halfway into the motion, locking at the joints.
âson of a bitch.â you sighed, turning for one of your tools. âsit back down.â
boothill grumbled and went to hoist himself back onto the workbench.
âleast one oâus can say itâŠâÂ
âdo you want me to fix you or not?â
âi'm sittinâ ainât i??â
you pulled boothill's shirt off his left shoulder and popped open a tiny panel on the curve of his neck, sliding your glasses back on to the bridge of your nose. with a lean forward you began carefully looking at a few thin wires that filled the space.
boothill tapped his fingers against the tabletop while you worked, that same oddity as before settling in his now repaired gut. he rarely got messed up enough for you and him to spend this much time together, or for you to have to really be in such close proximity.
itâs not uncomfortable, but the feeling is by no means familiar. itâs actually a little embarrassingâ a galaxy ranger, a space cyborg and expert hunter, feeling almost flustered at some close contact like some kind of shy little girl.
âsomething the matter?â
boothill nearly jumped as you spoke up quietly to check on him, voice quiet and so close to his ear he had to refrain from leaning both closer and away.
ânah, everythingâs just dandy.â boothillâs voice followed yoursâ quieter and a little softer as a result of the closeness.
âyouâre sure?â you looked up from the small mess of wires, eyes glancing up at your cyborg over the rim of your glasses. âmight as well fix anything else thatâs bugging you while iâm here.â
boothill would have swallowed if he had the need to lubricate his throat. he shook his head, turning to look somewhereâ anywhere else.
yours lingered on him, albeit briefly, observing the clench of his jaw and the way he tried to shift in his seat without being disruptive to your work. he didnât see the little smirk tug at your lips as you refocused on the task at hand.
boothillâs cybernetic limbs felt almost human in their sensitivity, sending faux shivers up a spine he didnât even have. the mechanics fingers running down his forearm are doing him no favours as they move to hold his hand again.
âclose your fistâŠopen itâŠtwo fingers upâŠâ
each command was obeyed, ten gunmetal fingers finally holding up a little peace sign.
âthat should be it, come see me if they start acting up again.â
you stood up, tentatively reaching out to fix boothillâs jacket and begin to zip it for him.
boothill didnât protest the act, but it wasâŠconfusing, to say the least.
âreckon iâll just start seeinâ those auto bots again,â he leaned back on his palms as your fingers fixed his collar, straightening it out. âmuch as i love our lilâ visits.â
you only hummed, smoothing out a few wrinkles and neatly tucking his scarf into itâs neckline, as he liked. âyou could,â you mused, hooking your finger lightly into his collar and giving a gentle tug forward. âthey donât take as good care of you as i do, though.â
this time boothill caught the little smirk on your lips, clear as day and enough to make him question if short circuiting was possible.
youâre doing it on purpose, he knows. the careful touches to his hands and body against the sensors you put there, quiet voice leaving him with a frisson you made it possible for him to have.
boothill returned the smirk, albeit a little wobbly.
âyou tryinâa rile me up, sugar plum?âÂ
he entertained you with a lean forward, two white crosshairs looking right at you while he considered if a hand on your waist was too forward or the perfect cornering move.Â
âjust like watching you squirm.â
you were gone as quickly as youâd arrived, finger unhooked and going to pick up his hat.
âbut say i was,â you didnât bother with a glance over as you made sure the brim was straight and unharmed. âi hardly have to try.âÂ
boothill hopped down from the table, following your path and offering a scruffy chuckle when you reached up to place it on his head.
âyeah? and what makes yâsay that?â his hand found a place on his hip.
you didnât respondâ not verbally, anyway. a quick flick of your eyes downwards was all he received.Â
so he followed, looking down as well, to the very appendage he had insisted you give him over and over again pushing against his trousers.Â
his own dream, now his downfall.Â
boothill pushed passed you, pushing his hat further down onto his head while he stomped away. the profanities that left his lips filled the airâ or rather their replacements. something something i love you blah blah peach cobbler something cutie-pie or meow!
âremind me tâsettle for them lovely auto bots next time!â
he opened the door with a firm kick of his boot, stomping out with a scowl.Â
as if he wouldnât be back. you took better care of him, after all.
@radi0activelob1ani made the art for this and you can see the full piece here!
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Aventurine/f!Reader - Reader's gender isn't mentioned until smut scenes.
2,871 Words - SFW (Future NSFW)
No current chapter warnings.
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FULL CHAPTER CAN BE READ ON AO3.
What a ridiculous concept, he thinks as his heel taps against the floor and his knee bounces. Platonic cuddling - how silly. The only people who would solicit such connections would be those who are incredibly lonely and desperate. On the screen, his score changes, showing he has a neat twenty. His thumb hovers over the button as he contemplates the risk of taking it further.Â
Aventurineâs turn ticks down, and the player to his right at the virtual table hits twenty-one. The jingle of the advertisement echoes faintly in his ears as he loses.
why is trying to make a new friend so embarrassing. hi. me again. asking for your attention once more even though i am literally just some random person to you. it's because i want to be not just a random person to you. please understand