#RIP Lay Lay

[willowser]

i really think having an emotional connection is so important to bakugou sexually.

like, i think he has to be in the exact right mood in order to get off by himself at home alone. can't be too tired, can't be too stressed out, can't have too much on his mind regarding work or other things, and even if it's been a while and his body is sensitive and wanting for it—if his head is not right, he can sit there for hours and never reach his peak.

which is why i think ultimately he doesn't do it that often, because it pisses him off to waste the time and not find the release. makes him more agitated. i think porn for the most part doesn't help him because he's too picky, literature probably helps a bit more, but he's still picky, and his imagination can get him there, but his headspace has to be right.

i think he's slow to hands-on stuff, when your relationship starts, and you can tell he's going to be like that pretty quickly. he responds to your touch like it's an accident; you reach out to hold his hand and he pulls his back like your knuckles have knocked by chance, like you're too close. it's not meant to be a rejection of any kind, it's just—he doesn't want you to touch him if you don't want to. if you don't mean to.

but when he realizes that you mean to, that you want to—

it has him skyrocketing. surprises him terribly, the affect you have on his body, and how quickly, because not even he can always have that affect on his own body.

you reach up to push some hair out of his face and your fingers skirt his cheekbone and he feels like a stupid gross disgusting puddle of mush. you loop your arm through his and lean into him while you're walking and he feels like a prize, like he's yours and you're his and you want everybody to know and that gives him a rush of pride that makes his head woozy.

he's dropping you off at home after date number he-doesn't-know and you're staring up at him outside your front door and he knows he should kiss you so he does and his whole body lights up with a heat he doesn't recognize at all. just from that.

and then he finally gets it: that heart-aching, stomach turning, body shaking want he's only ever heard about, and now finally feels.

[gunsatthaphan]

GMMTV Outing 2024 out of context (not that it would make more sense with context) - part 2

[sharpace]

I'm fine.

Been microwaving Fionna and Cake and back on my Simon Petrikov nonsense. ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Leave a tip! (Ko-Fi) | Store

[nabaath-areng]

Ranunculus

[shummthechumm]

WE OUTSIDE

dedication under the cut:

i originally started this just a few days before janice burgess passed away. if you have been following me for a while, you'd know that the backyardigans is still one of my all time favorite shows to this day: a major brainworm ive had since i was first popped out the womb.

she had such a huge hand in me and my siblings childhoods outside of backyardigans, as well, and i cant understate how much it means to me to see a black woman have such a major role in various popular animated franchises.

RIP to one of my greatest animation inspos, ESPECIALLY when it comes to children's entertainment. the fact that mrs. burgess passed on the day before my birthday hurts especially, so i dedicate this drawing to her! i would not be who i am w/o these goobers, so thank you

[moonilit]

Getting your stomach destroyed by a medicine you don’t need just to get ur little bro to drink his is the least of Clives duties

[prettyboykatsuki]

barou trying it and CALLING U A BRAT when you’ve been fucked stupid by him that is soo. soo. im gonna bite something ohh

like the first time he does what you ask because you are so insistent - you don't even last like. a good half hour

he doesn't even let his dick get near you, but you're ass up in his bed while he switches between fingering you and eating you out. your toes are curled up and your muscles are locked tight and you just keep. whing his name over and over. "shohei, shohei, shohei,"

and he just. he snaps a little. do you even know what you've been asking for? do you get why he's been so nice? what else are you doing if not being a brat for no reason at all?

[gojoest]

but he looks so cute in his basic ass uniform

[rambunctioustoons]

concept stuff!!

[feroluce]

So this ficlet-ish thing was inspired by @hydrachea, nsfw super genius extraordinaire, but also by the fact that in addition to Boothill's left eye being cybernetic, I like to hc even the parts of him that look human aren't fully natural. I mean the dude eats bullets, after all. I think he should also have vents in his mouth so he can literally blow smoke/steam, it would look super cool. Think Father Gascoigne or Studio BONES' Todoroki. We as a fandom deserve that!!

So anyway, of course, sometimes these vents get blocked up and need to be cleaned manually. Thankfully, Dan Heng is super helpful ☆

Like there's one day where Boothill is lazing around in the archives, fresh off a bounty and happily soaking up the luxury of the Astral Express after however long he's spent tracking his prey through all the dust and dirt with almost no rest.

Boothill likes it in the archives. It's not silent, but it's quiet. There's no music and only muffled voices from outside, but there's the hum of all the computer systems. It makes for a nice place to hide away and recharge when he's just finished exhausting himself.

And besides, Dan Heng is there.

Sometimes the two of them talk back and forth, but today it's mostly quiet...except for-

"I didn't know it was possible for you to get sick."

...Except for Boothill having to constantly clear his throat. That's the thing about your mark trying to flee into the desert. You either go after them and get sand everywhere (and even worse, sticky sand once it gets all bloody) or you wuss out and lose out on the bounty. Personally, Boothill likes being able to afford to eat.

"Grit's stuck in a vent somewhere, 'n' the usual maintenance ain't gettin' it. I'll prob'ly have ta manually dig it out." But later, when he's not laid out half asleep on Dan Heng's extra futon. Usually after a chase as long as this one took, he can shut down for almost a full day. He doesn't want to get up yet.

Something shadows over him, and reflex demands Boothill's eye open. Dan Heng steps around him on his way to some drawer built in the wall on the other side of the room or something. Boothill closes his eye again.

From under his hat he hears the sounds of rummaging, drawers sliding open and shut, the swish of a long coat. The shadow returns.

"Sit up, just momentarily. I have something to help." And Boothill groans a tired don't wanna, but he does it anyway, he hauls himself upright into a kneel. And then he sits up a little straighter because he realizes Dan Heng is standing right over him.

Dan Heng tells him "open your mouth," and Boothill's jaw pops open without his permission, without even a second thought, and hey, what protocol in there ok'd THAT?!?!

Before he can really unpack whatever the heck that just was, though, Dan Heng murmurs for him to say so if he needs them to stop, and then he's sliding a long, hard rod down Boothill's throat, tipped with some soft little brush he probably uses for all his fancy archival equipment.

Dan Heng tells him the handle of the brush is straight and can't be bent, he needs to move his head to be able to reach the vent in his throat. Boothill hums affirmatively; he can't do anything else with his mouth occupied.

Dan Heng's free hand holds him by his jaw, tilts it up slowly but firmly so he has to look straight up at him.

Boothill feels dizzy.

The cycle of blue blood through his artificial heart whirrs just a bit faster, his temperature sensor pings an internal alarm to warn for imminent overheating. Boothill curls his fingers into the guard over his knee as Dan Heng carefully brushes at the dust irritating him. All other sounds- the hum of running equipment, the occasional beep from the computers, the noise of the crew outside of this room- seem to pull away, until all Boothill can focus on is the steady and measured breathing from the man above him.

"Almost done."

Thank the aeons, maybe one of them likes him after all.

"Your tongue is in the way... I'm going to hold it down, ok?"

Nevermind.

The fingers holding his jaw curl around his chin, thumb slipping past open lips to dip into his mouth and pin down his tongue. One of his teeth catch on the digit, breaking skin just enough to bleed a drop where he can taste it. Dan Heng doesn't even flinch. Another temperature alarm pings off in his brain, then another, then another.

Boothill has never been shy about eye contact but oh, god, it nearly kills him when dull green irises flick away from their task and look down right at him as his mouth is held open. He quickly squeezes his own eye shut for some relief.

With his vision cut off, the rest of his senses automatically recalibrate to compensate. He can hear every breath even more distinctly now, every soft inhale and exhale, feel the strain in his neck, the softness of the brush, the hard floor beneath his knees, the hand holding his jaw and the fingerprints that feel like they should leave burns in his skin, the taste of Dan Heng heavy on his tongue-

Forget it, eye open, eye open!!

"Alright. There's one last pebble stuck."

Boothill had been trained to endure torture, back on his homeworld. It was part of being in a gang, part of being a bounty hunter.

Somehow, keeping himself quiet and still as Dan Heng inches the brush even further down the back of his throat is a profoundly similar experience.

The seconds tick by, Dan Heng's brow furrowing, face growing ever more concentrated and Boothill struggles not to watch him too closely, fights down the noise that suddenly tries to escape him as the brush withdraws-

"Swallow."

Stars and aeons, Dan Heng is going to be the death of him.

Boothill swallows. He feels it when the movement finally dislodges the loosened pebble from his vent.

His face feels shockingly cold now bereft of touch, even though Dan Heng's hands are always cool. He asks to see, and Boothill's mouth is already open again to show him, even as he belatedly realizes he could have just told him it had worked.

"Good." There's the slightest smile on Dan Heng's lips as he finally, mercifully, leans back out of his personal space, goes to put away the brush. "That should feel better now." Boothill spends a moment dizzy and dazed, feeling the need to blink spots out of his eye even though his vision is clear. He still hasn't moved off his knees.

What the fudge.

[sturnioloho]

i love this pic

[earthfluuke]

PuenTalay: Dads of the Year OUR SKYY 2 (2023)

[bunabi]

Especially with Merrill's eluvian, her understanding of elven history, and love for her people. And Fenris?? Like how cool would it have been to have a whole thing with him and the lyrium tattoos? Don't get me wrong, giving Harding the "magic is back" thing is fine but it seemed really vital to Fenris' story. In particular after his whole "I'm in Tevinter" comic line. Idk, just seems like a lot of set up for nothing and a waste of a good lady.

I knowww

I still feel Fenris and Dorian are almost guaranteed to return despite all this. And my guy Cole Thee Spirit. It doesn't make sense for them to not be involved.

There's absolutely no world where Solavellan gets closure but not multiple key companions. That would not happen. That's silly. I will keep repeating it to myself until release. 24 more days!

[druidonity2]

Nap

[eviesqueezie]

ponyboy shifts in his seat, twisting into himself in the way he would have years ago. years before the fountain, before the train tracks, before they had to grow up.

if he closes his eyes, it’s almost like his mother’s still there. still holding him the way she used to, before.

he can imagine his father, sat in the recliner darry now occupies, doing the crossword or reading the newspaper and smiling at something somebody said.

he can picture sodapop and darry play fighting on the ground, while his mother laughs and tells them to be careful.

but he opens his eyes again and leans his head back down into sodapop’s lap; who is running a distracted hand through his hair, sighing through his nose. darry sits in the recliner, grumbling about heating prices and drinking his already cold cup of coffee.

it’s not before, it’s now. and now is pretty good.

[stil-lindigo]

emily carroll has once again permanently changed my brain chemistry