#feeling a little down tonight

[shiitb4lls]

💖.

[zoomingupthathilla]

dear brain, if you could kindly eff off.. thanks

[smilesrobotlover]

I don’t draw the boys enough despite them being the main guys lol. I really need to focus on them more. I love them

[icewindandboringhorror]

Little bright colored outfit with a fun vest ~

(shoes from ebay like 10 years ago. everything else is thrifted)

[xxplastic-cubexx]

every morning 4am this is what i see when i wake

[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.

[puhpandas]

Bonnie

[citricacidprince]

Thinking about Psychonauts and how much I love the Aquato family once again

They mean the world to me your honor

[dekusleftsock]

I’m so obsessed with them I can’t fucking sleep

I HAVE TO BE SOMEWHERE TOMORROW AND ITS 2:30 IN THE FUCKING MORNING

They take up so much space in my god damn MIND. RIGHT NOW.

I think I didn’t give horikoshi enough credit. For so long I literally thought toga was some sort of fetish character, but she’s not. She’s so so so far from it. I thought she wasn’t a good representative of the queer experience, but she’s just NOT.

And to see a girl in a manga address a boob in a not necessarily sexual and/or joking context, but simply because it fit the symbolism and importance of that moment? I never would have expected that from a male writer, especially a male manga writer like horikoshi.

And the absolute amazing dialogue and writing they did for toga and the rest of the league, and then to ochako and toga? To be open and honest that, maybe it is ego, but what matters is that she truly and utterly cares about toga, the real her. The person she currently is. It’s fucking stunning and amazing and I just can’t stop thinking about it.

Toga and Katsuki, the two characters who were shamed for their selfish and deviant ideas of heroics and love.. being praised by the person they love.

Izuku you selfish bastard.

Ochako you selfish bastard.

I love it. They’re all selfish. Because love makes them selfish. Holy fuck I’m so gay right now kmskmskmskmskmskmskmskms

[kindahoping4forever]

Ashton performing with Eternity Speedway @ Desert 5 Spot LA - 11 April 2024

[snazzyscarf]

ros mutuals sound off how many of y’all are still alive

[perilegs]

my sweet little baby man is no longer with us

[neversetyoufree]

Was reminded tonight that vnc volume 10 also had a special edition that came with an artbook, but I was way too broke to consider buying it at the time.

Bad realization to my make vis a vis international shipping charges.

[benkeibear]

The year will be over soon and I wanted to thank you guys for everything!! I've met a lot of friendly new faces thanks to the @pixelcafe-network and I wouldn't want to live without the bean nation at my side.

This year has been one hell of a ride, both mentally and physically so i'm hoping that 2025 will be calmer, kinder and much happier. Thank you for the ones who stuck around, I hope your new year will bring everything you want and need 🤍

I also want to thank the people that were grade A assholes to me and other people on here. You made me stronger and give less fucks so for that I thank you. I also hope that your new year will be much kinder and loving to you, so you don't see a need to harass, insult, stalk or simply be an utter arse to people on here anymore.

[burntoutangel]

A worthless angel watching its human fall deeper into depravity and misery. Not even a demon temping her to fall, just human nature, and a ruined brain(more things the angel couldn’t save her from). The poor thing anxiously picking at its wings as it watches another one night stand beat its human into a bleeding sobbing orgasming mess, it’s picked away so much all its warm feathers are gone… it can’t even wrap them around its charge to keep her warm. An angel growing more and more distant from the light, losing faith in itself and the power of its overseer. An angel too full of love to fall but too pathetic and miserable to complete its tasks. Settling for cracking its halo against the wall, glad the human can’t hear the screams of pain and loss as all it’s ever known bleeds out into the waiting sky, the last traces of golden light that made it divine that made it *itself* being returned with open arms. The hollow wreck of an angel waiting on earth, wrapping its tattered and broken wings around its human, trying to take as much of her pain into itself as it can.

A human that starts to feel gentle feathers on its back

[fungal-wastes-my-beloved]

ahahaahhahah i'm not projecting at all shut up

[Start ID. First Image. First panel. The knight hangs from the entrance platform in the abyss. Second panel. A close up of the side of the knight's head. Third panel. The knight's grip slips from the edge of the platform. Forth panel. Three white impressions of the knight show the knight falling until it hits the bottom of the abyss. Second Image. First panel. The knight laying on the ground. Three white dots indicating silence are above it. Second panel. A closer shot of the knight in the same position. The white text says: get up. Third panel. Same as the previous panel, but the text is bigger and harsher. Forth panel. The words, get up, repeting over and over again untill they have filled the black background white. Third image. The knight is a black silhouette on a white background. The light gray text says: how? End ID.]