"HotR - 10"

"HotR - 9"

"HotR - 8"

⋆⋅✦⋅⋆ ─────────────────────────────── ⋆⋅✦⋅⋆  “Petal after petal swings in circles, smoothly falling down on a flat rug of grass.  He loves me.  Pretending that it is just a comical performance. Another mask to put on his face, would Reg lose the trial. He loves me not. The terrific assumption infects Reginald’s brain through and through. Even if Rube doesn’t, would that matter? This game is designed to target fools. The plant gets robbed of its parts, as nasty thoughts process. Doubts are starting to crawl under cockroach’s chitin with each further step he is taking. A senseless flower dictates his fate, which feels almost surreal. What, in the end, it ends up being? He loves me. He loves me not. Little bug blinks in disbelief. A single petal, stuck in between of purple finger pads, is left hanging. Soaking in euphoria, Reg stretches a virtuous smile, worthy of a madman, all across his muzzle. Rube loves me. He sincerely does.” ⋆⋅✦⋅⋆ ─────────────────────────────── ⋆⋅✦⋅⋆

"HotR - 7"

"HotR - 6"

⋆⋅✦⋅⋆ ─────────────────────────────── ⋆⋅✦⋅⋆  “Harmonious summer nights are keeping the certain cockroach restless. Admittedly, Reg has never been a morning person and, just like any guy of his specie, he was not fascinated by noon either. Night, on the other paw, was the excellent choice for his working hours; for meticulous craft and, of course, for philosophical thoughts brewing in his mind occasionally. As one can fairly assume, this time differed in nothing. Reginald, as he typically does, was routinely patching robotic parts. Right under moonshine, when he is expected to perform the job. Smooth jazz tunes were streaming from speakers to bring a smile on his face, to bury him under layers of fantasies. “A careless dummy” Reg chuckled under his antennas. “I might have patience of a saint to keep this idiot rustless and functioning”  Calling his friend names while smiling from teeth to teeth. Lately, technician’s feelings have been insanely weird. Thrill was brought to existence spontaneously, but only, — and oddly, — whenever Ruben was close. “I wonder what these daisies were about” cockroach side-eyed towards the handcrafted vase. “Bruh. He’s been bringing a gift after a gift. Sees me as something special? Encourages me to stay jolly?” Frankly, Reg pays back with the exact same coin. That is why, instead of catching some sleep, he is polishing a brand new crystal for reinstallation. That is why he is sweeping dust off the cyborg in mention. An odd feeling Reginald was failing to describe is butterflies in a stomach — a spark of love he was so madly resisting. A sheer realisation of such fact sent thousand of goosebumps down his flexible spine. Deeply confused, the technician shook his head while blossoming like a slice of ripe peach. “Stop being a moron, Reg, for once” he cussed at himself wrathfully. “You keep screwing up friendships” And yet, a teeny-tiny glimmer of hope shined upon his antennas. What if Rube, by any chance, returns those feelings back? ⋆⋅✦⋅⋆ ─────────────────────────────── ⋆⋅✦⋅⋆

Pride month seems very fitting to share this piece of art (made by Gorob on FA) ✨

"HotR - 5"