#boopliette

[ifiwereafish]

hey, does anyone know whatever happened to @boopliette ? she was truly one of the best Heights fanartists out there. whenever i'm sad or lonely or in pain i look through her page and smile. she also made wonderful fanart for other fandoms! anyways, i hope wherever she is, she's okay <3

[thepiecesofcait]

The Twelve Days of Les Amis-mas ExR | Rating: G | 20k+

"The holiday party? Here?" Enjolras nods towards their neatly-cluttered-but-decided-non-festive living room. "On all none of a budget?" Grantaire shrugs, "I fancied a challenge."

aka: the horribly domestic They-Were-Roommates Christmas rom-com you didn't know you needed.

The holiday fic I spent a year thinking about is officially all published!

Massive kudos to @boopliette on this spectacular commission -  I love it So! Damn! Much!

[williamvapespeare]

when @boopliette provides such perfect softness you have to (try to) reciprocate ❤️

There are some days Grantaire doesn’t get out of bed and Enjolras has learned to respect them. The knot of worry in his stomach never quite goes away, but he knows now to offer what he can, stay away when he needs to, and sometimes, rarely, to climb into bed too and wrap himself around Grantaire in an attempt to shield him from some of the darkness clinging to the corners of the room.

Today has been one of those days. Enjolras has hung around Grantaire’s apartment into the afternoon, staying close, but keeping himself busy. He’s hunched over his laptop, his attention half-buried in a spreadsheet so annoying that he almost doesn’t notice the presence of another person until the couch dips beside him. He looks over, surprised. Grantaire doesn’t say anything at first. He’s shivering slightly in an old t-shirt, has his arms wrapped around himself in a gesture that’s half way between casual and like he’s holding himself together, in danger of breaking.

Enjolras sets his laptop aside and turns to face him and Grantaire glances at him out of the corner of his eye, leans ever so slightly towards him in what Enjolras takes as a silent invitation. He reaches out to wrap an arm around Grantaire’s neck, stroking his fingers gently through the curls at the back of his head. Grantaire scoots closer to him in response, leaning more solidly into the weight of his arm. Enjolras smiles, presses a kiss to the side of his head and when Grantaire doesn’t react, to the bridge of his nose and the corner of his jaw, his stubble scratching lightly under Enjolras’s lips.

“Hi to you too.” Grantaire says finally, a soft chuckle in his voice as he makes an exaggerated show of turning his head out of Enjolras’s reach.

Enjolras smiles, tugging him back, and Grantaire settles against him, making a contented noise when Enjolras strokes his hair again.

“Good morning.”

“It’s the afternoon.” His voice is a muffled huff of breath against Enjolras’s neck.

Enjolras shrugs. “It’s still good.”

[dispersalpoint]

DISPERSAL POINT: COMING MAY 14th

an end of the world comic 

updates will be tuesdays & fridays

PRE-ORDER A PHYSICAL COPY HERE

[deancaspinefest]

So Make it Count

fic by atomicdetectivehideout  |  art by boopliette

During a dull day of school, Donna gets asked about her favourite student couple. She immediately thinks of Dean and Castiel, two students she introduced back in 1997 because she thought they’d be nice together. She never would have guessed her whim would lead these two on a path to love… One day.

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

“Do you guys ship students?” Charlie can’t help but ask.

Ms. Hanscum throws her head back and laughs. “Oh, that’s is the most popular topic.”

Charlie is positively bouncing in her seat. “So who’s your favorite couple of everyone?”

“I don’t think that would be the most appropriate topic for us, kiddo,” Ms. Hanscum says apologetically. Charlie frowns and Ms. Hanscum can’t help but feel bad. “How about I tell you about my favorite couple? They’re older, so you won’t know them. They got married last year.” Charlie perks up, and so do some other students.

“Well, it was about twenty years ago now, mid-way through November and there was a new student…”

[Continue reading on April 9]

[nightskyview231-blog]

I have ITH HCs (Headcanon) Part 1

• Sonny got his hat from Pete when they were still little (after seeing @boopliette’s design for lil Pete). • When Sonny saw Pete’s art, they became instantly close. • Daniela used to have her hair up to her shoulders and her hair was really dark that you never thought it was brown. • Carla and Daniela haven’t known eachother when they were kids but they met when Carla wanted to work at Daniela’s salon. • When Nina first saw Sonny, she would not let go of him and Usnavi gets furious and scared that Sonny might get hurt. • At the part of the blackout, Sonny would deny that he wanted to protect the store but he chose to leave because Pete is weirdly and insanely worried of him whenever he denies help. At some point, he came back to the store when Pete wasn’t watching him and Pete will be scared because some of the vandals have guns. • When he heard Abuela’s death, he became numb but he still felt sadness. When he heard Usnavi leaving, that was when he avoided everyone for a day. Everyone would be worried sick and find him but only Pete found him. Sonny doesn’t talk to him about it because he knows Pete will laugh. But when Sonny told him, he hugged him. • Sonny became a campaign manager of teaming up for the LGBT+ community. • Sonny had a diary that he burned when he saw Pete looking across it because it had a lot about his hate for Usnavi whenever he yells or gets mad at Pete. • Sonny was thirteen when he realized that he is in love with Pete but not Nina. • There was a time when he saw Vanessa and Pete dance, he gets jealous af (another HC by @boopliette (if Pete and Vanessa are friends HC)). • Whenever Sonny sees Pete’s art, Sonny blushes but hides his face whenever Pete asks him about his art. • Sonny got mad at Benny once when he was 8 because he broke a pencil Pete uses whenever Benny sees Pete drawing on pieces of paper Abuela left for Pete to draw in. • Sonny would sneak out to hang out with Pete and steal money from the cashier to buy piraguas for him and Pete. • He would yell at somebody random about gentrification and yell at a LGBT+ hater and kick him. • When Sonny hears gossip about Usnavi with some relationship with a guy, he yells at them to stop, and those people would call him gay but he punches them and Pete stops him. • Vanessa is basically the only person who can kiss Sonny on the cheek like in “It Won’t Be Long Now” and “96,000”. • Daniela wasn’t a gossip teller before and works hard non-stop when she was in college and sometimes sleeps for only one hour. • Sonny would always be late because he studied for exams that would be like months away. Usnavi is kinda glad that he studies whenever Sonny wakes up and studies while Abuela cooks breakfast. • Abuela Claudia never noticed that she was the one who won the lotto until her ticket number was proclaimed winner. • Kevin and Camila were always fun storytellers and Sonny, Pete, Carla and Vanessa would always come over and tell Nina to call her parents to tell them a story.

[williamvapespeare]

i’m sure everyone already knows this, but @boopliette is one of the most incredible creative humans in the world, a fab part of my life, and a constant inspiration to me. she recently finished posting her AMAZING comic Dispersal Point, which everyone should check out here and which i started writing a fic about a long time ago (see: inspiration) and am only just getting around to posting. but really guys, go shower her comic with love it will make you FEEL.

anyway, enjoy my rambles about emily’s excellent space boys.

-

The sound of water always lulled him to sleep, Jack remembers.

Remembers, like it was a time to be forgotten, like it was a thing born of childhood nostalgia and not a given to be torn away by the rough hands of whatever it was that decided these things.

And anyway, what he found most calming about the water was its consistency.

It was always there, lapping at the sides of his boat, hugging the shoreline, lining the cliff walls on either side of it with perfect precision. He only had to look out his window or run a hand through his hair to feel its roughness from hours out in the salty air. Consistency, he thinks, will be the death of him.

He’s always been a strong swimmer and it’s been so long since he feared anything like drowning, but he feels it again now, every time he listens for the water and finds it distant, finds it fainter every day and sometimes, it seems, by the hour, like the slow stopping of a heart.

On the night he decides to stop sleeping, Ariel finds him first.

Well, really, he’s decided to stop the facade of attempting any sort of rest when he jolts awake every other hour with the feeling of dark water filling his lungs and cold hands around his throat. He’s started pacing instead, bitten his nails down to the beds, finds himself shivering in the night air, and he swears it never used to be this cold.

There’s a knock first, which in hindsight seems silly because there’s no one else left but thetwo of them, but Jack appreciates it nonetheless. He runs a hand over his face, squares his shoulders a little as if there’s any point left in keeping up appearances, and goes to open it.

Ariel looks, well, he looks much as he always does: tall and windswept, with that kind of far away look in his eye like he’s always on the verge of thinking up something important. Jack doesn’t say anything when he seems him, he just steps aside and then Ariel is in his room, leaning against the side of his desk and looking strangely at ease despite the unfamiliar space and the lateness of the hour. At a loss for what else to do, Jack sits down on the edge of his bed (traitor, he thinks, even though the sleepless night isn’t really the bed’s fault) and stares down at his hands, tightening them in his lap.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Ariel says, finally, by way of introduction. There’s a gruff edge to his voice that Jack hasn’t heard before, but to be fair they’ve never been close, so it’s possible he’s just never seen this side of Ariel.

Jack shakes his head.

“Something like that,” he says, wonders vaguely if he looks as raw as he feels, then realizes that there’s no point in caring anymore.

Ariel nods, with a kind of easiness that implies he knows and understands every thought running through Jack’s head that he can’t possibly put voice to, and for some reason it annoys Jack to no end. A part of him wishes that Ariel would get angry, would scream or cry or do anything that Jack would know how to deal with. He’s not sure what to do with this seemingly constant layer of comosure that Ariel never shakes. It makes him feel even more cracked apart than he already is, in comparison.

But Ariel, being Ariel, seems to notice it too: Jack’s discomfort, his hesitation, and he doesn’t push the subject of sleep, or the thinly veiled implications of why neither of them can.

“It’s colder now,” he says instead, matter of fact, quantitative observation, in the same way Jack has seen him point out the faulty wire in someone’s ship or diagnose an engine, as if it’s just something he’s noticed.

Jack pretends the words don’t feel like a punch to the gut and he nods, tries his best to ignore the sudden tightness in his throat.

“I noticed.”

Ariel continues.

“The plants are dying, I think.” He still manages to sound as if he’s merely talking about the weather. “Not that I know much about plants of course, but I noticed yesterday they’re starting to wilt. It’s like they’re cold too.”

He fixes Jack with a sad kind of smile, as if he’s just shared an inside joke and Jack supposes that’s what all jokes are between them now, with no one else around to laugh - or cry. Jack balls his hands into fists where they rest in his lap and speaks before he can think about it any harder.

“You could stay,” he says, aimed towards his fists. “If you wanted.”

He hears rather than sees Ariel walk across the room to him, feels the bed dip slightly as he sits.

“I’d like to, if that’s alright?” Ariel’s voice is quiet now, a question that isn’t really a question and Jack nods in response; he’s not sure if there’s anything left to say.

Ariel lies back on the bed and his hair spreads out like a dark fan, or a halo, around his shoulders. He looks comfortable in the small space of Jack’s own domesticity, more comfortable than Jack thinks he’s ever felt there himself and he’s not sure if he should be comforted or annoyed by the idea. He settles for somewhere in between.

“Would it help you to talk?” Ariel asks, his eyes fixed on the rough wood of the ceiling above them, like he’s studying it. He’s getting dangerously close to the emotion that jack is still doing his best to swallow back down into the constant low hum of panic inside of him, that he seems to always have plans to deal with at some undetermined later.

“I don’t think so,” he says finally, more honest than he’s comfortable with.

Which is stupid, he thinks, because Ariel seems like the last person who would have judged him for this kind of honesty at the best of times. And he doesn’t judge him now, simply nods, moving his head to look at Jack only briefly before he turns his gaze back to the ceiling.

Jack isn’t how long they lie in silence, but it only takes a moment before he starts listening for the sea again, out of habit, out of the need for something - anything - to distract him from the inside of his own head. He expects, as usual, for its silence to be deafening. He expects to have a few moments of fear, of shame, of acceptance, before he gets up and starts pacing again.

He’s surprised when something else catches his attention.

The sound of Ariel’s breathing next to him is soft. It would barely be noticeable if Jack weren’t already on such high alert, but it’s gentle and rhythmical and something about it reminds Jack of the ocean.

He doesn’t notice himself drifting off to sleep again.

He doesn’t notice until he starts awake some time later. He’s curled up nearer to the foot of his bed than he expects, with Ariel beside him, his back just visible in the dim light. The comforting rhythm of Ariel’s breathing is gone, replaced by the heavy, panting breaths of someone trying harder than they should to get air into their lungs.

He doesn’t sound like the ocean anymore.

Ariel’s shoulders shake once and Jack blinks exhaustion out of his eyes, starts to push himself up on one elbow before he thinks better of it. He’s lost here, in the face of Ariel’s pain, but he’s quite literally the only poor excuse for a person that Ariel has left and he feels that obligation, heavy and uncomfortable in his chest - the same way he’s felt during his own countless moments like this over the past week.

Still turned away from him, Ariel reaches one hand back, over what now seems like a vast distance of bed between them in a wordless plea for comfort. Jack hesitates for a moment, startled, unaware that Ariel even realized he was awake. Then, he takes the hand.

Immediately, Ariel tangles their fingers together and Jack recognizes that kind of desperate grip all too well, the kind you use when you’re drowning, and you scramble to grab ahold of anything that might keep you afloat. It shouldn’t scare him as much as it does, he thinks, to be that something.

He supposes that this kind of drowning is the same as anything else.

Ariel moves their joined hands closer, pulling Jack forward until his arm is draped over Ariel’s shoulder, his hand pulled in close to Ariel’s chest where he’s still curled away from him. He can feel Ariel’s breaths now, as well as hear them, hot and uneven against his arm and he tightens his grip.

Jack doesn’t sleep again for a long time, but he’s fairly certain that Ariel does, after a while, his back tucked up against Jack’s side and his hand loose in Jack’s where he can’t quite bring himself to let go now that he’s held on.

Despite the exhaustion starting to pulse at his temples and the desperation that seems to grow inside of him, more and more with each day they live through, he feels a strange sort of contentment watching over Ariel as he sleeps. It’s the same feeling he used to get when he felt the waves push underneath his boat, but kept it steady: certainty, consistency, of a kind he’s started to believe he would never feel again.

He knows that the steady rise and fall of Ariel’s chest under his arm is a fleeting comfort. But it’s there and it’s something and he latches onto it. It’s been between them this whole time, unspoken and horrifying in its implications, that no matter how long this lasts, they’re in it together. It’s a rule, like tides and the moonbeams that pull them: they will watch over each other for as long as they have left.

Eventually, Jack sleeps.

[williamvapespeare]

everyone please appreciate my new icon/brand by my amazing artist bro @boopliette (who yall should check out if you don’t know because DAMN TALENT!) (also, Will better be proud of me)