Hehe Krinkle Cut Fry

Hehe krinkle cut fry

Here's my hc version of Ryley for a fic I've been writing (link at the bottom of the post if you're interested!)

I tried to make him look as much like the source material as possible without looking like a crinkle cut fry.

He's a masc he/they (he just hasn't had his gender crisis yet). Long hair to change up his look because he's on the run, and I gave him piebaldism because in this fic he hasn't had access to hair dye in four years but I'm emotionally attached to the hair streaks. Also I gave him dimples, no reason I just wanted to. The eyebrow scar is from our favorite bonk panel in the game intro.

• 28

• 5'5 - 165.1 cm

• He/they

• He's not mute in his au but he talks to himself more than he does to other people. It's his way of organizing his thoughts and working through problems.

• They're good with fixing hardware and things but knows fuck all about software and programming

• Good around kids and has aloof older sibling vibes

• Frowns. Frowns a lot, has resting 'what is even happening' face.

• Quick thinker and great instincts but has little to no filter over his intrusive thoughts and does some dumb shit 'cause of that. (Shines flashlight directly in own eyes, zaps himself on the finger with the repair tool, sticks own hand in front the propulsion cannon, punches the qep interface, and so on)

Bonus meme:

Ryley Robinson is the intellectual property of Unknown worlds entertainment and I hold no ownership over the character or models. Headcanon redesign and fanwork by me

If you're born in space does that mean you're a local everywhere?

You cannot see her

Reblog for one(1) pet

He wonders if Wilbur’s carried it around too—knowing they should’ve died there, that now something is wrong with them both because they didn’t. That they’re two corpses walking and it’s a matter of time before it catches up, not a matter of if it ever will. He wonders if Wilbur knows that in the end, it will drag them back in, and they’ll never, ever be free.

( devil town, chapter eleven )

prayer

There's no fish on the moon!

L'moonberg fishing