#googleirl

And no you can't say wilford you fuckin simp

-🗡

First of all, I can't see most colors, Mr. Eye. They're only visible to me if they're tied to the magic that exists within this dimension.

Don't get fresh with me.

Secondly:

5. The balanced, yet polarized, crisp white and bold black that that time-obsessed twosome are adorned with.

4. The promising, spirited red of the demonic energy that is instilled in young Yandere-chan.

3. The dependable, recognizable blue of the screens on @ask-the-android 's person.

2. The humble but powerful gold of @blind-radio-waves 's eyes.

1. The soft, familiar candy-pink that surrounds my beloved @respect-the-stache : his hair, his cheeks, his eyes, his voice, his heart.

A lovely Google hug.

Google very publically has his own moment about this outfit that ends in him going "you'd have to pay me millions to put that on."

Dark shares a very similar sentiment, but is also very clear about an exact amount to be sent. If the viewers want this, they're going to have to fucking work for it.

A few are very into the idea, obviously, Yan is down, Bing, Wilford, but surprisingly, some of the most okay and ready to do so are Illinois and Host. Neither will explain why.

The next episode rolls around, and yes, in fact, every single one of them is wearing the cat maid outfit. Yes even Google. Many complication videos after have his little "you'd have to pay me millions" line then jump cutting into him all but pouting in the episode with them wearing it.

(Somehow, Host is having the time of his life. It's one of the only episodes where he has to excuse himself to change his bandages not because he was stressed out, but because he had laughed so hard it had soaked his bandages. It's also one of the only episodes where he returns voluntarily after changing his bandages.)

(In a dress because he’s pretty)

'Now That's What I Call Edgy 2020' 

Haven't drawn Google since... 2015 lmao, wanted to give the homicidal bot another go

Another illegal gig, another boring day. Not that Henrik minds doing solids for his friends, but airlifting an entire android over to the UK seems incredibly drastic to him. Here he stands though, having agreed to it, watching Dr. Iplier roll a stretcher into his small clinic, tucked away in an alley. 

“Goddamnit, Edward, why so late like this? I have jobs I could take from criminals that will pay me much higher than your Darkness does.” Henrik crosses his arms, taps his fingers, suspiciously eyeing the tarp-covered body. 

“I know, Schneep, I know, you can chew my ass off later. You’re the only doctor who would do it without reporting him to the magician police. Look, he’s basically a human, but technimagic like his would get reported, and the Darkness wants us below the government’s radar.”

“You think I give assfuck about why he’s here? Nein. Just set him up in the surgery room. What wounds do I look for?”

“Well, he’s got a missing eye and several bullet wounds. Here, we’ve got the whole of him on this hard drive.” Edward holds out a thick hard drive, but snatches it away as Henrik tries to grab it. “You’re sure you know what you’re doing here? Sure you have the parts and sure you won’t secretly fuck us over?”

Henrik stares at him over his glasses disapprovingly. “Iplier, you know that I am worth your money. Who fixed up Silver last time he nearly got his head chop off, hum?” Edward rolls his eyes, sighing, and rolls Google’s body into the surgery room, going about setting up the lights and laying out doctor’s tools with clean, gloved hands. He won’t be helping with the surgery, but doctorly procedure is of utmost importance to him. 

Henrik swings open the doors with his hips, holding up freshly washed hands covered by sticky white gloves. He peers down at the android, now with the tarp off of him. The android is shirtless, and a small white G glows faintly on his chest, blinking, blinking, blinking. Green blood seeps out of three bullet wounds like battery acid. Henrik runs a finger over his missing eye, coaxing it open so he can see how damaged the wires are. He finds them in a horrible state of disrepair, tutting at the Iplier ego’s clumsiness. Edward, meanwhile, exits the room to smoke off the stress. 

Henrik picks up a line of copper and silver wires, preparing to attach a fresh eye module. His eyes keep drawing back to the glowing letter imbedded in his chest. Technimagic. Powerful and humming like the fan of a computer. He runs his hands down it softly, tracing the letter. The surface nearly burns him. Hm, the android must be fighting very hard to stay active. 

Henrik ties the wires of Google’s eye together, assuring for proper conduction of signals, and leaving breathing room so Google doesn’t feel any discomfort. He lets out a satisfied sigh as the new eye piece slides in, (a blue one rather than brown, but it’s all he has for the moment), and moves to pop open the android’s head pieces. His skull splits in three slated parts, sliding to the side to expose the synthetic human brain within. 

In a few moments time, Henrik has hooked up Google’s damaged brain module to his computer, and is downloading the hard drive to his repaired organ. In the mean time, he sets about suturing and cleaning the bullet wounds, humming songs to himself. He is so engrossed in his work and distracted by his own humming, that he doesn’t notice the android’s mismatched eyes blink open as the hard drive finishes downloading. 

“He-e-e-ello,” glitches out a voice, startling Henrik so hard he screeches, his hand grasping his chest. 

“Goddamnit! Warn me next time, android!” 

“My-y-y-y name is not a-a-a-android.” The stutter sounds more like glitching, wavering and deep. 

“Yes, yes, whatever...” Henrik trails off as he cuts the string of the last suture, huffing and sitting back at his computer. He points at Google, raising his eyebrows. “Need you answer questions. Confirmed?”

Google’s eyes glaze over at the simple commands, his face scowling. “C-c-confirmed,” he glitches out. “Call m-m-m-me Google. Call me G-g-g-gabe. Silver calls me Gabe.” Google is glaring, sitting as still as a mannequin, his eyes closed as memories come rushing into his mind. 

“Fine. Gabe,” Henrik sighs, “Answer these questions for me. How old are you?”

“Fifteen.” 

“No, I mean your actual age, not day he made you.”

“Fa-a-a-alse. I am fifteen.” 

Henrik grumbles curses under his breath. “Fine. When is your birthday?”

“October 13, 2014.”

“Who is your owner?” 

“Matthias. No. No, Dark. Dark is my owner.” A smile takes over Google’s lips, pridefully puffing up his chest. 

“Hm. You like being Dark’s?” Henrik questions. 

“Affirmative.”

Henrik marks down the decrease in vocal glitching on his chart. He can’t imagine it himself. Being owned, possessed, entitled to someone. It would be a living hell, surely. Hell, Google was so devoted to the Darkness that he took four bullet wounds to the abdomen on Dark’s command. Google would throw down his life that easily if it meant being a good little soldier. Henrik’s mouth fills with a sour taste, and he bites back bile, getting on with the questioning. 

“What country are you in?” 

“Britain.”

“What is the date today?”

“April fourth, 2029.” 

“What is your registered name?” Henrik’s tone has glazed over with boredom, his eyes lazily flicking around his computer screen. 

“Fa-a-a-alse.”

“What?”

“False. I have no registered name. I chose my name. Silver ca-a-a-alls me Gabe.” 

“Alright, taken your point, alright,” Henrik huffs. He feels the rush of embarrassment flushing through his body, his hands quivering minutely. “Why are you so free-happy with your name even though you say you like belonging to Dark? How does he let you be so free? How does- Is it good for him to let you off the reigns so well?” Henrik taps the desk with his pen rapidly, staring at the floor, his face twisted. 

“He did not let you have your name.”

Henrik startles, turning his gaze to meet Google’s mismatched eyes. 

“The Anti took you-u-u-ur name from you. When you belonged to him.” Google is staring straight ahead, but his gaze is calm, nearly sympathetic. Henrik scoffs, turning away again. 

“This does not matter, Gabe. All that matter is you having been fixed.” Henrik unplugs the hard drive as it finishes downloading, getting up to start disconnecting wires from Google’s brain. Google shuts his eyes, and waits patiently while Henrik works, his chest blinking light softly. “Now go get Edward, I need it in cash.” 

“You can belong to somebody while still belonging to yourself.” 

Henrik stops short on his mad dash to leave the awkward conversation. His eyes scrunch shut, gripping his hands into fists. 

“It can be healthy to belong to somebody. It can be nice to serve a purpose. The Anti was not a healthy person. He abused you.” 

Henrik barks out a laugh, his face going pink at Google’s bluntness. He shakes his head, gripping his fists harder together. 

“Well... Good for you you have such a kind and caring demon to own you. Some of us are not so lucky.” Henrik swings open the door to the washroom, immediately going to the sink and splashing water on his face. 

The android is right. Henrik knows he is. It’s been 7 years, why can he still not accept it? He stares at his reflection. Pale and covered in scars, a tattoo of an eye stick-n-poked into his neck by Anti so long ago. 

Good for the machine that is get such a loving owner. Good for him. Henrik was not so lucky. Henrik will never be so lucky, as far as he’s concerned. Criminal doctoring and sleeping around is all that is left for him. So without much more fuss, he accepts his cash and calls it a night, Google glancing at him knowingly the entire time the Ipliers are leaving. 

FireFoxIRL:

Full Fursuit

Or

Just tails and ear headband