#I will art it up when you least expect it

[togglesbloggle]

I've got to say, it's a very strange feeling, becoming the sort of person that is in the exact target audience for Buttercup Festival.

Like, this thing has been running for decades, since 2000 if you believe wikipedia, and it got around without ever being really discussed explicitly by people I know. The strips always drifted past me every now and then without incident- neither offensive nor inoffensive, a bit puzzling at times.

And then... something? Something in me, not in the strip, that much is clear enough. But now I just love these little things to death, on a good day it's competitive with Calvin and Hobbes or something else really top-tier.

And it's just bizarre, you know? They certainly don't rely on what you'd traditionally call humor, and even when there's a belly laugh it's not because there was anything like a joke per se. But if I try to explain to people what it is that makes the strip work, I just come up with all these ridiculous sentences that may or may not mean anything.

So I went from not getting the strips at all, and just walking past them without registering their presence, to really enjoying them and considering them one of my favorite comics ever, without once passing through a moment in time where I understood what made them so poignant. Just bouncing between two very different kinds of ignorance.

And that's interesting in itself, no? One kind of wants to reason through one's aesthetic preferences. I know I do. I suppose, on the grounds that I want to reason through everything. But my experience with Buttercup Festival seems determined to resist that treatment, at least so far.

Jokes as an art form are rather interesting- they get a laugh out of us before we know why they're funny, and discussions about humor tend to be unsatisfying after the fact. Explaining a joke doesn't make it any funnier, and the experience of 'funny' itself can't really be explained. Most forms of art, you can develop a deeper appreciation of the form by breaking it down in to specific shapes and methods and styles, and find new layers of beauty as you explore the structure of it. But it seems like laughter doesn't follow the same path, exactly.

Jokes aren't necessarily the only thing with this kind of structure. The koan, also, is supposed to open something to the student without any intervening explanation or analytical framework. Like a good joke, a koan often don't seem to make any damn sense at all, and like a good joke, a koan is often quite short. So that's two examples.

So there's this tricky thing where there's a class of experiences that seems to resist explanation, and we mostly encounter it through humor, but it's not actually limited to humor per se. I don't think I have the slightest idea where the contours of that thing are, or how to explore it, even though it's quite beautiful.

I don't think it's meaningless either, even though it sort of challenges the usual ways we define that term. I don't know how deep it goes, though it's much deeper than I expected. And you can grow in it over time, either because of certain experiences or certain insights or... I don't know. It wasn't signposted. I just kinda woke up here one day.

[hryniewiecki]

Grand Arcane S2 review

because I really need it to move on

Remember how I mentioned I could write an entire book about everything that went wrong with this season? Well, this is what a little excerpt from it would look like.

Let's start with a personal note to clarify my relationship with this hell of a piece of media.

S1 was this miracle show that was able to break through the several years of depression and anhedonia and make me interested in something, make me try to get back into making art (or at least try to try), to put myself out there on the internet a bit, to try be a part of something and not ashamed of enjoying it, which I never allowed myself before. Coincidentally, I've been at what I thought then was the worst place in my life when it aired and it helped me a lot to get through it. I didn't even think I would make it to see S2, as thee years felt like forever then. Taking all that into consideration, I think you can already tell where this is going.

I honestly thought I was prepared for S2 not being good, as no show could be this perfect. Turns out I wasn't prepared at all. Act 1 made me very happy, so happy I watched it two times, but the rest is something I would've never watch again and rather forget about.

The characters I wanted to see the most were Warwick (body horror, The Wrath of Zaun haunting the streets - got just a glimpse of that, but it felt like nothing) and Viktor (cyborgs and cyber gore, misunderstood idealist, Blitzcrank - got basically nothing; the idea was kinda there somewhere, but got changed so much it didn't matter at all).

I can't believe they took a godforsaken champion like Viktor and not only ruined his story completely, but also managed to fuck up everything else by all of a sudden making him a center of all of this mess. The center being the arcane/hextech/magic, which never even gets resolved/explained. Still no idea why it got corrupted and what was the nature of it; the void was never taken anywhere despite being heavily hinted - everything was evil because it was, but luckily the magic of friendship saved us!! (I'll get to that)

Speaking of crucial plotlines that weren't taken anywhere.. Basically every character got screwed over and made empty. Let's use Vi for a quick example (may not actually be the best example, but hopefully you'll get what I mean) - when I saw the pit fighter scene released early, I expected to see it have a continuation in the show, but instead it ended up just being the exact same music video, nothing more. And that goes for some more events - they get compressed into music videos that make it all incredibly hollow. Fight scenes are fine like this, sure, but not something that was supposed to be a bit more emotional and serious. Anyway, they successfully made me hate most of the characters. Either hate or just straight up not recognize them, and in a bad way.

Long story short the pacing is awful (it only gets back to normal in ep7, as it resembles the structure of S1) and the writing sucks ass. I can't for the love of god believe it was written alongside S1. There's no way in hell - it's literally all the worst fan theories I've seen come to life and get mixed with fanservice. *puts on a tinfoil hat* Maybe this is the real why they needed an extra year or two, as S2 was initially supposed to be released earlier. No way in hell the same people who wrote S1 and cared so much about the characters would do anything like this. Riot must've gotten heavily involved, making us believe they cut the story short (I think 5 seasons in Piltover/Zaun were planned initially?) for the benefit of it, but all it really was is greed - let's make a bunch of bullshit happen and quickly move to another region to sell more skins for new champions.

Now let's get back to the ending. Man, it really had it all - the nonsense, the multiverse bullshit which basically makes nothing make sense anymore (if there was anything left), the (yes, I'm going to say it, because that's exactly what I felt) cringe and embarrassment. Never seen anything more hollow trying to convince me it was deep and emotional (sums up the whole show perfectly).

How the hell the only thing that was supposed to save Viktor from himself was Jayce telling him he's perfect the way he is? Sure, don't try to cure your illness (that my city caused, but "fortunately" another crucial part of the plot, which is the sister cities conflict, ceased to exist), it makes you beautiful, this is who you are (miserable, unwanted, feeling meaningless and like a burden, dying). I am at loss of words.

Now buckle up jayvik fans. I wasn't a fan of the ship as I'm not a fan of any ships in general, but now I despise it. I wouldn't mind if they actually went on with it, which no, they didn't. We don't want two men kissing (women making out is fine tho, won't make the gamers too angry), so let's play extra safe to make sure it could be explained as any type of other close bond (and that's exactly what Christian Linke does when asked about it). You disgusting cowards, either you show me this in plain sight and I wouldn't give it a second thought, or don't even try bring it up at all (and you can't deny it wasn't implied in S1 with all the Viktor's looks and parallels to Mel).

Where do I even begin? Because I don't think you have any idea on how many levels it actually sucks. If you read it as romantic it's basically telling me that if I was a gay man struggling with my feelings and not being able to confess for years, because I'm convinced I'm unworthy of love as something is inherently wrong with me, then the best I could get after surviving all this (what honestly seems like hell) is a hug, because you're ashamed of me and thus I should be ashamed of who I am till the very end.

Something equally bad is Jayce finding out (or rather we finding out) how wonderful the world could look like if he let go of his beautiful dream, his life's work, and killed himself - it never gets denied, as the corruption of hextech doesn't get explained.

Long story short, if you're struggling with your mental health, trauma issues, disability or any of the problems the characters you related to deal with, this show spits you in the face.

I could go on forever about everything that's wrong (even Jinx got played dirty), but let's finish with the few things I liked: act 1 was promising (it's when I believed they could still make sense of Viktor), fun Sevika's arcade arm fight, the epic fight at the Janna's temple (Woodkid goat), Jayce killing Salo (I felt something) and Jayce's glitchy madness in general, young Vander flashback (felt something), ep7 and Singed's story (the only one that makes any sense).

Other than that the show left me with nothing but void in my heart (I guess that's when it all went). The saddest thing being the masses love it anyway, as it seems they'll watch anything that's colorful enough. And Riot will make lots of money of off it, because in the end they never loose. I'm not denying Fortiche absolutely outdid themselves with the art, it's just heartbreaking nothing else even remotely stands up to it.

[ghostgirl-22]

Hi! <3 You’re like my favorite writer for Artrick! I swear you characterize them perfectlyyy

I keep thinking about the idea of Art and Patrick going on a date when he’s at Stanford. Like obviously Art wouldn’t admit it’s a date, but I imagine it’s after Art reluctantly admits that he wants to hang with Patrick alone when he comes to visit and that he’s a bit jealous of Tashi. So they basically have an unofficial date night. How do you think this would go, and how would Art go about initiating something physical between them because he’s obviously not gay right?

Okay but you’re actually such an amazingly talented writer and I love your stuff so much! Thanks so much for this request I honestly don’t think I did this ask justice and I’m sorry it was so long but I hope this attempt brings you some amusement <3

CW: 18+ !NSFW! 3.8kish words

—-

It’s not that Art is jealous. He’s not jealous. He’s not. But up until now Patrick’s always called him and stopped by on his little trips to Stanford. It’s not like he expects Patrick to stay long, he knows he’s not the main event… but he at least expects him to come by.

So when Patrick shows up at his door three days later, asking if he can stay in Art’s room, Art tries his best not to express his irritation that he hasn’t once come by his room till now. And it really stings because Art knows the only reason he’s here now is because of the limit on how many days he can consecutively “visit” her dorm.

“You’re saving me man,” Patrick says, patting his arm as he drops his duffle on Art’s designated chair full of stuff.

Art shrugs. “Yeah well. Happy to be an afterthought.” He mumbles.

Patrick raises his eyebrows and then gives him a crooked smile. “You are never an afterthought.”

“It’s fine,” Art says, already embarrassed that he brought it up. “You’re dating Tashi Duncan. It’s totally understandable dude.” He tries to sound nonchalant, hopeful that it’s how he comes across. He feels like he spends so much time these days swallowing down on feelings. Feelings he can’t name, feelings he doesn’t even really understand. None of them jealousy. He’s really not jealous.

He does often wonder what they do alone. He thinks about what they do in bed since the most he really knows is that they’re fucking. He knows Patrick calls her all the time because he doesn’t really call Art that much anymore. They used to sit on the phone for hours, barely talking or talking too much, sometimes till late in the night. The same way they did when they were sharing a room in high school. But gradually it became, Patrick leaving the call earlier and earlier. To Patrick not really calling that often at all.

“You know, you can help me with something actually,” Patrick says, flopping onto Arts bed.

“What?”

“I’m taking her on a date tonight, we’re going to get dinner and see a movie.”

“Oh,” Art says. “What movie?”

“The new Saw movie. What number are they on now? 11?” Patrick laughs.

“Oh I didn’t know she’d like something like that,” Art says carefully.

”Yeah well, she saw the first one and she said liked it. She never got around to the others. I asked her if she’d be scared to see it but she said even if she was… she wouldn’t mind being scared if I was there. Isn’t that kinda… hot?”

Art shrugs again, swallowing it down.

”Sorry, is this hard to hear?” Patrick asks, patting his cheek.

“Fuck off,” Art mutters. “I’m just… I’m thinking about my game on Sunday. I’m not really worried about your relationship actually.” He lies.

“Good cause I was just gonna ask for your advice on what to wear. She tends to dress up for this kinda thing and I don’t want her to be annoyed if I show up in shorts and a t-shirt again.”

“You want me to help you pick out an outfit?”

“Yeah… you’re always put together,” Patrick says.

“All your clothes are tailored. Just pick something.” Art says, dryly.

“Okay but I want to wear something comfortable. Not something that makes me look like I’m about to donate a hefty sum at some stuffy fundraiser.”

Art sighs, “fine what’d you bring? Lay it out.”

Patrick empties his duffle on the bed, everything he has that isn’t training gear, playing gear and t-shirts is all wrinkled but Art has an iron. He helps Patrick pick something out. He’s still irritated, but he thinks he covers it well.

He’s actually stunned by how happy it makes him when Tashi calls and says she has to cancel. She does kids tennis lessons for extra spending money and a client wanted her help to prep for a game in the early morning.

Patrick’s talking to her, his tone understanding making her feel better about canceling last minute and promising to see the movie another time. He’s such a good boyfriend. It’s so weird that he’s not fucked it up by now. Art can’t remember Patrick ever dating anyone this long before.

Art’s sitting on his bed, back up against the wall, kicking his feet over the edge, listening to him.

“Sorry man, you’re stuck with me all night,” Patrick says after he hangs up. He knees the bed and sinks into it, settling down and leaning close to Art, he picks up his half ironed slacks and frowns.

“Mm… why don’t we go out?” Art suggests.

Patrick laughs and so does Art, feeling himself beginning to flush.

“Or… I mean… we could just hang out. Watch Hell’s Kitchen or something,” Art says quickly. He looks up when Patrick doesn't reply and Patrick is staring at him, a peculiar look on his face.

“Fuck it, let’s go out.” Patrick smirks. “You can be my date.”

“Yeah? Why not?” Art smiles. “I mean who says two friends can’t go out for dinner and a movie.”

Patrick laughs a bit, his expression flitting quickly between amusement and something Art can’t recognize. “Mm right. Platonic date night. Here we come. You have something nice right?”

”Yeah,” Art says. “I can wear that one shirt I wore to the awards dinner last year.”

“Oh yeah, you look so hot in blue, wear that,” Patrick teases.

“Shut up,” Art smirks, ignoring the weird feeling that blossoms in his chest after Patrick calls him hot.

They get dressed. Patrick’s clothes fit him so well. He’s in an outfit that might read as casual (fitted t-shirt, slacks, and a blazer) if not for the simple elegance of it all being quietly wealthy.

He’s also got a great body and anything fitted on him is going to bring that out. Art doesn’t think about his body often or anything like that, it’s just something he notices. The sky is blue, water is wet and Patrick Zweig has a great body. It just is.

They go to the movies first. “I prefer that when I go out on a date, so we have something to talk about over dinner or drinks,” Patrick explains as he drives them over to the theater in his jeep. “You know in case the date is boring. Not that that’s ever the case with Tashi. Actually, you know what’s crazy? I feel like she’s as easy for me to talk to as you are.”

“Hm,” Art says, swallowing down on something bitter in his throat. “Well I think you should try to find a balance. Talk to other people. You don’t want to scare her away by only ever talking to her.”

“Oh is that what you think?” Patrick says, smirking. “I don’t only talk to her actually. I’ve just got a lot of pressure on me. The only time I get a chance to rest I’m so exhausted— I got one phone call in me and so you know…”

“Oh,” Art says. “Well yeah I guess that makes sense.”

“Are you seeing anyone?” Patrick asks.

“Mm, I mean… I think I might be interested in this girl on the team. She’s really good.” Art lies. He’s not really interested in anyone and he’s probably wasting his time, thinking more about Patrick and Tashi than he spends thinking about his own social life. He wants her so bad unfortunately every other girl he meets just pales in comparison.

—-

They’re actually on the 4th Saw movie, and it’s as stupid as Art might have expected. They laugh about it over dinner at Applebees. Patrick’s got this pretty realistic looking fake id so he orders a drink and they split it when the waitress isn’t looking. Not that she cares, she’s also a Stanford student. She’s been to a few tennis games to watch Tashi play but she knows Art is the number one singles player on the men’s team.

“You’re really good,” she smiles at him and he can feel his skin flushing as Patrick grins at him from across the table.

”Thanks uh— but Patrick actually plays professionally.” Art says.

“That’s so cool,” she says, she smiles at Patrick and then looks back at Art. “I would love to learn to just hit the ball over the net.” She laughs.

”He can teach you that easy,” Patrick says. Art kicks him under the table and he just grins wider.

“Can you really?” The waitress asks, flipping her pretty blonde hair over her shoulder.

“Yeah I mean… whenever,” Art says, awkwardly.

“Cool, I’ll be back. You guys want anything else?”

Patrick gives Art a meaningful look and then orders a second drink.

“When were you gonna tell me you got number one singles?” Patrick asks, watching her as she walks away.

“I figured Tashi told you,” Art says.

“Yeah but you should have told me,” Patrick says. “She’s hot right?” He adds, gesturing back towards the waitress.

“I mean… I can tell her you think she’s hot,” Art says. “I don’t think she believes you’re actually dating Tashi anyway.”

Patrick laughs, “God you’re such a dick. I meant for you. That would be a fun night.”

“I guess,” Art says, rubbing his palms on his lap. It’s all he has to say for Patrick to keep teasing him throughout the rest of the night, getting her to come back over and flirt with Art. He orders more and more drinks which she happily brings over.

In spite of the teasing, it’s actually really fun. Of course Art has been to movies with Patrick before, even gone out to dinner with him and their friends or family before, but this feels different. Art can’t figure out why… maybe because he gets to be in Tashi’s place. Maybe because it feels like old times.

They probably spend two and half hours in Applebees talking about the movie, high school, tennis, their parents, video games, girls and anything else that pops into their heads. They only leave because its 12 am and the restaurant’s closing. By then they’ve split a total of six cocktails and Art is feeling so tipsy.

“How much is it?” He asks when the waitress brings the bill.

“I’ll take care of it,” Patrick says.

“Dude it’s okay we can split,” Art says.

“No relax, it’s our platonic date night, right?” Patrick pulls out his credit card. “I can give you this though.”

He hands Art the non singable copy of the receipt and on the bottom the waitress left a note: For whenever you decide to teach me how to serve, Jenny. Followed by her phone number and a heart.

“She drew a heart and everything,” Patrick teases.

”It’s for you,” Art says, shyly.

“It’s so clearly for you, Stanford boy,” Patrick smirks.

“We probably have to take a cab home,” Art hiccups. Changing the subject. He does slip the receipt into his jeans pocket though.

“Oh yeah,” Patrick says. “You’re so responsible by the way. I love that about you.”

Art snorts a laugh and Patrick starts laughing too. Patrick leaves a big tip and they call a cab. Art promises to come back with him to pick up his jeep in the morning and they share a cigarette while waiting for the cab. When it arrives they hop in the backseat for the 25 minute ride back to campus.

Art’s feeling sleepy, the combination of food, alcohol and a long car ride is lethal for him. He closes his eyes, head slipping to settle on Patrick’s shoulder. Distantly, he feels Patrick rest a hand on his thigh and he opens his eyes, suddenly wide awake. It should be a nothing feeling but Art goes rigid, he feels it all up and down his spine and even worse, his cock starts to wake up.

“Did you have fun?” Patrick asks, quietly.

“Yeah,” Art says, he stares at the meter on the cab. He feels so dizzy and confused as Patrick’s fingers play a light pitter patter along his thigh.

“I’m sorry I’m not… free all the time. Like in high school, you know?” His voice is soft, Art can almost feel the vibration of it from where he’s leaning. He can feel Patrick’s breath on his cheek. It makes no sense the way his body is reacting. Maybe he’s drunker than he thought.

“Uh,” Art sits up. “Don’t worry about it. We’re both um— busy.”

“I know,” Patrick says, he’s still playing the pattern on Art’s thigh. “But I feel like I’ve been neglecting you.”

Art feels anxious, he looks up front, he can see the driver glancing back at them in the rear view. “Look… obviously your girlfriend comes first. We can do bro stuff whenever…” Art says as he gently eases Patrick’s hand off his thigh even though it feels nice. His heart is racing like he’s running some kind of marathon he doesn’t know why but it’s probably just the drinks. All the alcohol making his head all fuzzy.

“Yeah,” Patrick sighs. “Bro stuff.” He rests his head against the back of the seat and they’re mostly quiet for the rest of the ride. Arts mind is racing. All he can think about is how close they are but how much it feels like something is slipping away.

The halls are mostly empty as they get back to the dorm. There’s a few students still up. A couple talking softly to each other. One girl on the floor with her headphones plugged in watching something on her laptop. Some guy exits his room, talking on his cellphone as he breezes past them.

“You think I can sneak back to her room or no?” Patrick asks, one arm resting on the door frame as Art leans in to unlock his room.

Art feels his heart still beating oddly fast, probably because Patrick is right behind him. He’s never been able to manage personal space as long as they’ve been friends but right now Art is just so… aware of him. “You can stay here. It’s just one night. I’ll even let you have the bed all to yourself.” Art says.

“It’d be two nights. I leave on Sunday.”

“Okay, two nights then,” Art pushes open the door, breaking the closeness. It feels like a temporary bit of relief.

Patrick follows him in and slips off his shoes. “That’s the one thing I hate about dressing up. Fucking boat shoes.”

Art smiles. “I’m really drunk I think.” He says, kicking off his own shoes.

“Yeah?” Patrick smirks.

“Yeah, I don’t know how I’m gonna make it to practice tomorrow.”

“Isn’t it in the afternoon?” Patrick pulls off his jacket and then his t-shirt. He digs through his duffle for something to put on.

“Yeah but still.” Art realizes then he’s been watching Patrick undress, like he hasn’t seen him butt naked before. He shakes his head and goes to change into his own night clothes.

“Don’t be mad,” Patrick says as Art gets his jeans off.

“What?”

“I think I need a session, maybe I found that waitress hotter than I realized,” he’s in his boxers holding himself. His eyes fall over Art’s body.

Art looks down and swallows. He’s seen Patrick erect before… even touched it… But they were a lot younger last time. They’d actually grown out of doing it in front of each other a long time ago.

But ever since Patrick brought up that night… ever since they kissed… Art’s mind would occasionally wander to what it might be like to see it again. And now there it was… just… right in front of him. Patrick holding it idly like it’s not ridiculous to be carrying all of that around. Art’s fingers twitch, his mouth is suddenly too wet and he swallows again. The worst part… he’s getting hard.

Patrick sighs. “I’ll go in the bathroom.”

“Um…” Art can hear his heartbeat in his ears, he sits on his bed just because his knees are shaky. “I thought… I think she’s hot too.”

Patrick is still for a moment watching him, before he smiles and approaches Art. “Right? I think it was the skirt. I mean those fucking legs.”

Art nods. He reaches for Patrick. His head is all fuzzy, his ears are ringing and Patrick straddles him on the bed. Art touches it through his boxers. It’s heavy and really, really full.

Patrick eases his fingers into Art’s hair. “And she’s blonde….I think I like blondes more than I should.”

Art grips him properly. It’s not just lengthy, it’s thick. The only thing he can think about is what it might feel like in— in— just in.

He rubs it up and down, like it’s his own. He’s never done anything like this before so he’s shocked when Patrick reacts, “Fuck,” he gasps, this quiet sound that makes Art shiver. Art grabs at the front of his boxers and eases them down, revealing a shock of dark hair and Patrick’s cock as it bobs forward. Circumcised, all pink, and all so real. So much bigger than the last time Art saw it like this.

He leans over and licks at the shaft.

“Whoa,” Patrick breathes and then he chuckles.

“I uh—‘m sorry,” Art looks up at him, anxious that maybe this is too much, too far. That he did something wrong.

“God Art. You’re so fucking…” Patrick breathes and settles down on Art’s lap. He takes Art’s face in his hands and kisses him. Art breathes in as their lips touch. It almost feels the way it felt that night. Something warm, almost on fire. Their chemistry overwhelming.

God, is he into this? Is he into Patrick? He thought it was all because of Tashi but this still feels good even when she’s not watching. And right now Art knows he wants to feel more of Patrick’s tongue. He wants to lick his cock again. His mouth hasn’t really stopped feeling wet, but the kiss feels good in spite of it…maybe because of it. He finds himself exploring every inch of Patrick’s mouth. His heart is still racing. He knows Patrick can feel how hard he is. The way he feels Patrick poking against his stomach. He grips it and gets excited when Patrick hums a pretty little moan.

Patrick eases them out of the kiss and looks at Art, fingers tangled in his hair. His cheeks are all flushed and rosey. His freckles are so vivid up close. He’s actually incredible. “You want to taste it again?” He asks, brushing up against Art’s lips.

“Mmhm,” Art nods.

Patrick takes a deep breath and he actually stands up in front of Art, so his cock is just right in front of Arts face. Art stares at him and nibbles on his thumb. Patrick’s got freckles on his tummy, just a couple spattered here and there. Art wants to lick those too.

He sits up and grips Patrick’s cock again. It feels so warm he must run at a thousand degrees. Art licks at him. He can see the way Patrick’s muscles tense. Hear his little breaths. Art starts licking more. Up and down, all over the length of him. He likes how it feels along his tongue. The heat of it, how soft and solid it is at the same time. He likes the taste and the smell, salty and heady. He sees the pearls leaking from the tip and tastes that. He really likes how it tastes so he sucks on the tip a little more. And it’s all punctuated by the way its affecting Patrick.

“Mm, fuck sweetheart, I know you want to explore but this feels insane.” Patrick breathes. “You’re gonna mess around and make me shove it in your mouth.”

Art feels warm at the way he says sweetheart. And the thought that Patrick might lose control over him.

He opens up and takes in more.

“Fuuckk,” Patrick sighs like he’s sinking into a warm bath. Art closes his eyes and runs his tongue over the length. He’s almost sure he can taste Patrick’s heart beating through it. It feels incredible and Patrick starts moaning for him which makes Art begin to lose himself in it. It’s too big to get it all inside at once but he tries to take a little more. His mouth is so wet that when he pulls back spit drips onto his thighs. He licks and then takes it in again, more this time.

“Oh shit,” Patrick gasps. He starts moving his hips like he can’t control himself and Art needs to grab on to keep him from shoving it too deep. But he likes the sliding feeling as it moves back and forth over his tongue. His own cock is aching. He feels like he might start pushing up against the air too. It’s so hot how he’s the one doing this to Patrick. It’s all him. His mouth. His tongue.

“Can you look at me?” Patrick gasps.

Art hums and looks up as it’s sliding out of his mouth, he takes a small breath before taking it back in again but his mouth starts filling immediately. Art feels it hot and thick slipping down his throat and he starts coughing. Which makes it start spilling everywhere, dripping off his lips and Patrick’s still coming so Art licks around the tip to try and taste it.

“No… wait, fuck, fuck… that’s too sensitive just… relax,” Patrick gasps, breathlessly. He pulls his shorts back up and stumbles to sit on the bed next to him. He rubs his thumb over Art’s messy lips, Art licks at it and Patrick smiles letting him suck it for a minute before pulling it away and sucking it into own mouth. “Come here.” He rubs his thighs.

Art stares at him for a minute and then moves to straddle him. “Sit,” Patrick says, softly.

Art settles on his lap.

“Have you ever done that before?” Patrick asks, rubbing him over his boxers.

“No, is it okay?” Art asks, his voice a little hoarse.

“So fucking okay,” Patrick says and he starts kissing him immediately. It feels so satisfying, rubbing his tongue along Patricks after having a mouth full of him. He feels Patrick’s fingers ease into his boxers, gripping his cock where Patrick starts jerking him off properly. That combined with the stimulation from the kissing makes Art finish embarrassingly quickly all over Patrick’s fingers and in his shorts.

“Mm I need another cigarette,” Patrick laughs, licking his fingers and gazing at Art.

Art swallows hard, mildly panicked now that he’s back in his right mind. He climbs off of Patrick’s lap.

“What?” Patrick asks. ”And don’t say sorry.”

Art bites his tongue and takes a deep breath. “I think I drank too much.”

Patrick grins. “I don’t know. You kinda spilled some of it,” he gestures to Art’s lap, a bit of pearly liquid settled there.

“That’s not funny,” Art says, biting down on a smile.

“Oh it’s really funny.” Patrick says, getting to his feet.

“Where are you going?” Art asks. Strangely enough he just kinda wants to be near him.

“I’m gonna wash my hands,” he says. “And clean up a bit.”

Art bites his lip.

“You want to come?”

Art nods and gets to his feet. “I’ll just brush my teeth and um… change my…” he gestures vauguely.

Patrick smirks and beckons for Art to lead the way. “So,” Patrick says. “Where do you wanna go tomorrow night?”

[joffyworld]

Šamaš II -

They of Knowledge and War

It's hard to remember much these days.

Often it's impossible to remember anything at all,

To recall the finer details and find my way;

It's as if I've been entangled in a darkened red shawl:

I can see beyond the darkness in glimpses of authenticity,

I can reach past the madness and almost touch what has now been repealed.

But there remains a thin veil between myself and the truth;

It feels insurmountable as I fall into my minds' obscurity.

Godly ichor seeps out of the wound naught can yet heal,

I sit there and watch it drip down till they come with more news

Were my past machinations truly mine or those of fate?

It's increasingly difficult to make it back from the fall.

Do I deserve these conditions for living a life full of hate?

I know those who claim to be my siblings don't deserve a life that's so cruel.

Even if I recover what awaits? A world of stability?

Can such a world, with us in it, even be real?

Every day I awake is a veritable who's who.

Did the past-me ever imagine a life of such vulnerability?

Are these the consequences of taking actions guided with zeal?

I see strange faces come and go, they mutter "we love you"

When I gave the order, was I at all even phased?

It seems so out of character, so unusual.

They tell me it was desperation that changed how I behaved;

But would a God of Knowledge really resort to adding to the fire more fuel?

Was it just of us to punish curiosity?

Was it righteous of us to tell our brother to kneel?

It didn't feel correct to leave a sibling askew.

When we plunged the chains through his limbs in this violent atrocity,

Did any of us leave room to heal?

Or had we already broken through the time to heal and break through to you?

Now when I close my eyes I see a void-white gate,

Standing at the end of a long, dark hall.

Traversing the barrier I spy a long-hewn lake,

I bellow loudly to its occupant, but they never hear my call.

I see my voice extend, almost physically, with such velocity.

But it quickly recoils, and is brought to its heel.

It was you whom I had called to,

You, my brother the Lord of Death and magnanimity.

I remember once you heard my voice, I watched it make you reel,

I suppose the voice you least expect is that which has betrayed you.

As I heal slowly all that's left is to ruminate,

Reflect on the ways in which I failed my thrall.

It drives me ever closer to the madness that consumes and degenerates:

Across my mind does it sprawl, a slaughter-hall of the attentive and philosophical.

That which once saw every angle and possibility has ultimately been replaced by this vacant unpredictability.

The madness has caused my brain to slowly allow the crown to congeal.

The crown's influence spreads with its purple-hazed hue,

The cue to allow the crown to finally take responsibility, to be rid of the me that was me and become without humility,

I can feel myself slipping away, until all I can recall is the ordeal;

The ordeal that took you.

I remember walking up to those ivory arches and the cacophony of silence that followed. The wave of the trees from the wind, the exposed roots struggling against the combatant wind at every turn of their opponent.

I remember the darkness filling the air where once there stood nothing, blackened tar swirling with vitriol at every second it hung so loosely in our world. The almost viscous substance that materialised in an instant, and seemed so eager to disappear as quickly as it had come.

I remember the eyes that peered down and gazed upon the windows of my soul with unknowable intent. How they scanned every detail of my form, how they analyzed without repent every single finite piece of me as though I were a piece of discarded art, thrown away by its creator, then remembered and gazed upon once more for its flaws, not its graces.

For long there was silence, glares exchanged and stances readied. Longer still was the time that passed, every second felt an hour, every minute felt a day, yet little passed at all but a matter of minutes in the days stead.

Then it spoke, measured, calm, poised:

"Son of Sun, God of War, God of Knowledge that you are. We beseech you listen closely, for your foes they closely are. They tread and thread within your web so take caution when you spin. The conspiracy lies deep inside, and you are deep within. Illusions of your safety work vice versa with yourself. Take heart in what companions you trust deeply with your wealth. There lies only one within the five that you should dare to question. You mistrust and pray that that's enough but irony's your predilection. There will come a day where you will say, that you had known for better. You will dull the pain with maddened songs that tell of your grief's measure.

Make your choice, They of War, but pray caution when you move. It is time to right your wrongs,

Just make sure your wrongs don't right you."

[teamchillidogs]

Oï!!

First, I want to say, I love this comic and genuinely can’t wait to see what awaits for us next ♡♡♡

The premise is such an interesting concept– And the art is to die for, hello?? (all my ♡ to you guys, and I mean ALL of you!)

I just had two tiny questions, if it haven’t been already answered:

If it doesn’t spoil anything, is Sonic still going to be able to run at his full speed with that mechanical leg? Or is he going to be limited? I can’t imagine my poor baby stuck with average speed, but I’m not really sure that this leg is capable of supporting his sonic speed.

And second, mostly adressed to others fans... WHY IS EVERYBODY BLAMING MAH BOI TAILS FOR EVERYTHING?? Like, yeah sure he’s technically responsible but–

Why is nobody blaming Knuckles too?!

Both Sonic and Amy told Tails to come back to the ARK and let Sonic&Shadow handle things, and I think we can safely say he would have (even reluctantly) obeyed and gone back to the ship.

But noooooo, Knuckles had to chime him and told him to make himself useful.

Useful.

To the boy who literally just witnessed his BigBroTM (fake) death in an explosion without being able to do anything abt it.

The kid who just had an entire arc abt gaining confidence and learning to step out of Sonic’s shadow (pun not intented), to be his own person with his own purpose and all that jazz.

The child who’s probably still pump up on the adrealine from his fight with Eggman (which he won if I remember my SA2 correctly).

Knuckles, mah bro, best hot-headed himbo of the franchise. You could not have chosen a worst time to utter these words.

Of course Tails was going to take him up on that and try to ”MaKe HiMsElf UsEfUl��, why wouldn’t he?? He defeated Eggman in battle (Left-over adrealine and possibly cockiness?), and didn’t seem to trust Shadow with Sonic (who, again, was thought Dead literaly less than half an hour ago bc of the Team Shadow was on– Seriously, I can see why he’d like to be by his side when Sonic is again risking his life out there for them)

And franckly, how was he supposed to realize how bad his intervention would turn out to be? It never got that bad before, why now?

#StoptheTailshate #HoldKnucklesaccountable

Sorry for the rambling and the terrible english, but it had to be said, bruh. Tails ain’t even in my Top-5 favorites character, but everyones’ so harsh on the baby, he needed some backup 🥺😭

Hii @sookilini here answering as per usual!

this is the best ask we have ever received and it's honestly my favorite, thank you so much for sending this.

I always get to excited and emotional when i read these things, thank you so much for your kind words <333

ALSO THANK YOU FOR NOT ATTACKING TAILS, he has been DRAGGED TO FILTH I CAN´T TAKE IT /j

So first: is Sonic still going to be able to run at his full speed with that mechanical leg? Or is he going to be limited?

Unfortunately, the people of Marmolim (the planet he landed on) as you may have been able to tell, don't know who Sonic is and are unaware of his speed and abilities. So, the prosthetic leg isn´t capable of withstanding his speed...

Secondly

Why is nobody blaming Knuckles too?

I honestly have no idea why most people commenting did not catch onto Knuckles provoking Tails by poking at his insecurities, I'd even dare to say his ego more so... Tails got into his head "oh I don't need Sonic to get things done. I can do anything, I'm more than just the brains, I can do the action too" at least this is my intention with his actions.

We have to remember, Tails is literally just a child at the end of the day, yes he is incredibly smart but can you really expect a 12-year-old-ish kid to act rationally when put in a stressful life or death situation while getting yelled at by everyone for just trying to help?

Nobody would ever expect a kid to even be in that situation to begin with right? at least that´s what I think.

We all know Knux isn´t the smartest in hindsight...he isn't stupid by any means, but he will say what comes to his mind without second guessing for sure.

But oh well...Knuckles isn´t here to defend himself....anymore...

But there is still hope

[meggahamicide]

How do yall make great art? Also, how do you get out of art and writers block?

I have been trapped in art and writers block for like- a few weeks.

First of all, thank you for liking my art and thank you for the support! It genuinely means so much to me!

As for how I make art? Just a lot of practice and patience, if I'm being honest. I've been drawing since I was a kid and never really stopped, so that helped me cultivate my skills to where they are now.

But for the next question, I'd like to preface it by saying writer's/art block is different for every person, so what works for me might not work for you. Normally, my writer's/art block stems from me being a perfectionist. If something's not going right, I tend to let that build in my head until everything I create doesn't reach the standard that I hold myself to, which is more often than not way too high. Which can lead to burnout.

Acknowledging the problem is my first step. Ultimately, for me, if the creativity isn't happening or I'm stressing myself out trying to draw or write when nothing's working right, I'm just going around in circles and that's not helping anyone. So to work to fix it, I have to take a step back. Anything that I've built up in my head, pieces that I want to perfect or stories that have a set goal in mind, are sent to the backburner for the moment.

I always try to take at least a day when I've reached the point where I can't create anymore. Sometimes, that works, sometimes it doesn't, but if it doesn't, my next step is to focus on creating works purely for me. My thoughts when I do these works aren't to think of the end and what will come of finishing the pieces, but instead on just creating for the sake of creating. This is when I do little doodles in a sketchbook or study a screenshot from a show and I focus entirely on not being perfect. I try to never go into these drawings with the intention of finishing and/or posting them, because that's putting expectation on a drawing that is meant to be relaxing.

The best thing I can do for myself when I'm hit with art block is to take away all outside influences and relax. Creativity is not something that can be forced, at least not for me, so I use these art block pieces to let loose where I usually hold myself to a rigid structure. And i go into each of them figuring that they are never going to see the light of day, so there's no reason to be ashamed by how they turn out.

In the off chance that nothing is working, sometimes I just stop creating for a while. It's maybe not the best course of action, but it gives me a fresh mind when I return to drawing/writing.

[mallardducksaysquack]

EDIT: Thank you for feedback, got the courage to apply ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Making this a poll because people rarely sugarcoat when completely anonymous. The poll assumes that the work fulfills all requirements - the question is only about the author’s art skills.

(not trying to put anyone down but rather pondering over whether to sign up or not)

NITRO CHiRAL Secret Santa Event!

Hello everybody! Sign-ups for the NC secret santa event are now open! Here is the link to the form:

More information about the event is below:

How does this event work?

Participants will fill out the form above and based on the information you provide, I will match you with someone who shares similar likes and you'll create a present for them, whether it be fanart, fanfic, or any other creative work!

How does match ups work?

On the form, you'll fill out which NC games you are familiar with and what characters/ships/tropes you enjoy. You'll also include prompts for your gift to contain. I will match you with someone who is familiar with at least one game you listed and has similar likes. You can also list anything you don't want your gift to contain and any characters/ships/tropes your santa should avoid in their present.

Where is the event held?

The event will take place on Discord, so participants should be willing to make an account if they don't have one already. Everyone can also post their finished gifts here on tumblr, and I'll reblog them if you tag me!

Schedule

Nov 18: Sign-ups open Nov 24: Sign-ups close Nov 26: Matches sent out Dec 25-Jan 4: Gift reveals

Extensions and drop-outs

If your gift won't be finished by January 4th, you can ask me for an extension and I will tell your giftee that their present will late. If you're unable to continue participating due to time constraints, you can message me that you need to drop-out. Please be aware that if you drop out you're not entitled to receiving a present. When someone drops-out, I will message the people who said they're willing to be pinch hitters and see who's willing to take over.

Gift requirements

Fanart: one full finished piece with color or detailed monochrome Fanfic: at least around 1000 words Other: message me if you're making something else These are the minimum requirements, but you're free to go above and beyond!

If you have any questions, feel free to send an ask or DM me!

[zephyrartz-owo]

Mental Health Tip! Don't skip meals lest you be fighting demons

[icecreampizzer]

i like to think that- in saving the phoenix at the end of KBOOM- roxana's hands suffered some pretty serious burns from willingly getting so close to the magma. i, too, have occasionally had a thought of prism and solaris meeting up, and those thoughts always eventually flow into solaris taking note of the scars and assuming that the phoenix caused them. which, admittedly, why should she imagine otherwise? when all she knows is the trail of fiery destruction they leave in their wake, and the familiarity of the burns on her own skin.

there's something there to me about solaris assuming she can have a kinship with another inventor, and prism... obviously having a slightly different take on the whole phoenix situation. both so similar and so different at the same time.

all this to say by the time you add john in there i think it would turn into public debate class💥

OUUH YES you reminded me that I Forgot to add that bullet point in the relationship thingy, but I didn't have enough space as it is...I'm very sure that their perspectives on Phoenix are a common cause of arguments between them, ranging from silly to maybe serious. All their lives changed by that one agent, in drastically different ways...

Solaris and Prism could probably still bond over a lot of things (inventing and all that Zoraxis Baggage:tm: maybe even fabby) but they're certainly stubborn about how they view Phoenix. Now I'm wondering if Prism could change Solaris's mind about them.. knowing her though it's better to not push it because I def think Solaris isn't the type to let go of grudges so easily.

Also I got inspired to do some doodles on the topic :thumbsup: Solaris's house is never gonna have a moment of peace for a long time *sitcom theme song plays. but bond style somehow*

[thepurpleglass]

No, I bet he’s projecting.

im pretty sure i met an irl disney villain at my job a few weeks ago.

[gjsxj0]

mindless rambling in tags don't mind me

[babygirlificationn]

Post this cat when they least expect it.

Close ups under the cut because im obsessed with him <3

Meowles Catworth, attorney at law <3

[cuteniaarts]

Small drawing collection of my latest creation Emran as a teenager/freshly minted Air Acolyte, for my dear partner in unhinged OC shenanigans @katkastrofa, as promised <3

[variousqueerthings]

three just karate aikido-dropped three security guards and honestly id like to see some other doctors get into a fist fight occasionally, i wonder how they'd do

[fisheito]

If you want actually good BL reccs, I've been reading Cherry Magic recently and it's v sweet.

I also read this other one a while ago that was wholesome in a weird way: "My quiet best friend's just tongue-tied"

dude do u know what this ask feels like? like... me: *puts down the toxic high school BL midway through* *heavy sigh* *takes a swig of lavender lemonade* why tf all these yaois so damm .. i don't know. sigh. this is a young man's game. maybe i'm not fit for this no mores anon: hey so i heard u like wholesome and probably not teens *slides recs over* me: either i am unbelievably easy to read or you're just a seasoned BL sommelier. thank u dearly, anon

[phox-129]

That moment when you’ve just overcome your greatest fears and then you figure out your entire life is a lie and also get lava directly to the face

(Inspo/Refs: x x x x)

Painted for my art class with metallic watercolor and black light paint!