#arti is uh... you get it

[lyss-butterscotch]

so i just thought about a cute dynamic with your iterator AU

so, the slugcats objectively have more experience in surviving and traversing this world, so they might start treating the iterators as little siblings or pups and generally being protective of them

like, survivor might treat moon as if they were their sibling and gourmand would definitely treat her as a pup.

you ever seen those pictures of tired parents with hyperactive toddlers on a leash? that would probably be the relationship between hunter and NSH

pebbles is arti's adoptive pup. that's just how it is, i dont make the rules

Edit : Sorry for the janky writing my fancy word braincell isn't working rn

[attex]

had fun playing co op with @shadowefigure @overstays @plutosoda

[aerialworms-art]

October wrap-up

So! October is at an end! And I have not finished Spocktober/Trektober. Let's see how I did!

My goals for the month were:

To have fun :3

To get used to finishing drawings

To get used to posting them, too!

To have fun :3

To improve my sketching and lineart skills

To end up with a bunch of finished drawings (of Spock!!!) :3

To let go of a bit of my perfectionism

TO HAVE FUN :3

So how do I think I did?

Having fun:

I had a lot of fun with it this year! In previous years, I've pretty much immediately devolved into an anxious mess because there were too many options and I bit off more than I could chew. This time around, thanks to my guidelines (only inking, not spending too much time on each day, sketching and thumbnailing in advance), it was a lot easier to let loose and have fun thinking up ideas and enjoying the process. Plus, I let my friends know I was doing it this time around and got encouragement and support, which was lovely.

Getting used to finishing drawings:

I did better at this than I thought I would! There are several drawings I've finished this month that I would have given up on if not for this goal. Do I think they were all my best work? No. Did I learn from the process? Yes! And some of the ones that have gotten the most notes were ones I thought no-one would like and struggled to finish. So! I also figured out new ways of motivating myself to finish things, which is also very helpful.

Getting used to posting things:

Also went better than I thought! Although I didn't manage to maintain a cushion of queued posts like I wanted to, the response I've gotten from actually posting my art has been amazing! I've gained several new followers (hello!!) and gotten so many nice comments, and went from being afraid of posting anything to tentatively looking forward to people's reactions, which is a huge improvement for me. Getting that accountability of posting publicly also helped keep me going when I felt like giving up - seeing my friends laugh when I showed them my silly comics or getting nice comments really made me feel like sharing my art is worthwhile. So thank you to everyone who reblogged my art, commented, liked, etc. I'm glad you did!

Improving sketching and lineart:

I definitely think I improved my art skills. Getting into the habit of thumbnailing really helped take the pressure off the sketching phase, and trying so many different ideas pushed me out of my comfort zone and forced me to try drawing things I wasn't so confident on - look how many hands I drew!!!! As for the lineart, I think I've gained a bit more experience in using pens, although I did buy a whole new set of them halfway through the month which put me on a new learning curve. Lineart's never been a huge favourite of mine, and I do miss using my tablet to do lineless art, but the nature of the challenge did help me to loosen up and experiment to keep my mind engaged the whole time.

To end up with a bunch of finished drawings of Spock:

Check! I have 14 finished drawings, with another four sketched and needing inking, plus a whole load of thumbnails to work from in future. I may go back and add colour to some of the days for funsies, but there's several that I can just put on my wall as-is and be proud :)

To let go of a bit of my perfectionism:

I definitely did! Like I said, there's a few of the ones I've posted that I'm not too proud of and know I could do better on, but I've spent all month purposely smacking my hand away from perfectionism, and I know I've tried my best given my limitations. I'm still proud of myself for getting this far, and for posting when I was anxious, and for improving my skills, and now I get to stick up my art on my wall and be proud of it! I'm not magically cured by any means, but I do have a bit more evidence that perfection is not a good goal to pursue, so I'm going to keep this experience in mind for the future.

So what now?

I do have thumbnails for almost all of the rest of the prompts. I am doing NaNoWriMo this month, and I have a digital piece that I want to finish for the 5th (holy shit. three years.) So I think I'll take a little pause on these prompts, but I don't want to stop. I'll keep coming back to them, and keep posting them, until I run out of prompts or motivation, whichever comes first. I've really enjoyed seeing people's reactions to my Star Trek art, especially the comics! I also have a backlog of SPN fanart I want to post, so I'll probably queue some of that to come out soon.

TL;DR: Watch this space!

And if you've been following along/commenting on/reblogging my art this month (or anytime), thank you so much! It's folks like you that make sharing art worthwhile!

[something-about-sunflowers]

OH.

You ever have a sudden realization for why you feel a certain way about something that actually completely flips those feelings on their head?

I've generally always been pretty sure about what I want out of any kind of gender affirming care I might hopefully get in some nebulous future where that's something I can afford: I want my voice deeper, I'd be delighted by bottom growth, I would like my tits significantly more masculine presenting if not gone completely. I've been ambivalent about the potential for body hair, though I have been much more eager for the possibility of it with more 'ideal transition goals' influence (Look. I want Con O'Neill's gender okay?) in mind.

That said the one thing I've been hesitant about is facial hair? Which is frustrating because it's the one thing that I kind of do have by default? If I don't do anything to it I have noticeable dark wispies on my upper lip and chin (I've kind of suspected for a while that I may have some sort of hormone disorder - I've got other things that lead me to think this too ofc this is just the most easily noticeable - but like. Who's got the money for diagnosing shit like that? Not me, that's for damn sure.) like. T-Boy's First 'Stache kinda deal. It's been my one (mental) sticking point on potentially starting T, to the point where I've argued with myself that I could just do like the trans girls do and get like, what's it called? Electrolysis? Hair removal? Just for that part. But then that adds cost to what I already can't afford and. Like.

I don't think. It. Actually bothers me? I think. I think I'm maybe projecting how I think my mother would react to it? Not even with full on transition in mind but like. How I am now. Like I don't really care how it looks if I don't shave. Hell, I might even like it sometimes? Like a micro-euphoria or something. But my mother is (partially) responsible for my eating disorder. It's completely within the realm of possibility that she would have Something To Say if I just stopped bothering. I don't even think she'd do it on purpose really? Just. Would need to point out the presence of hair on my face and the judgement would be implied. The 'I am pointing this out because it is unusual and I don't think you should look like this' would be implied. She wouldn't need to say it out loud.

And like. The worst of it is? I don't care. I don't care if I do something to myself that she doesn't like or approve of. And. It's hardly as if she's transphobic (Or. Not more-so than the average 'uninvolved in the queer community parent of queer kids' cishet person. Not maliciously so, yknow?) I've got friends she knows are trans - one who she knew through his actual transition process - she's been through the whole 'it's "he", mom' 'oops, he' situation before with relative grace.

But none of those people are her kid. She doesn't see them every day. She knows she didn't raise them and has, at no point in their lives had a say with what they do to themselves. I already came out to her once (Well. I was forced out by my partner at the time's parents, which was. Not fun.) and the thing about that time is? She really didn't have to. Do anything? About that? Except maybe adjust her mental image of who I might wind up marrying some time in the nebulous future. I'm not out to her about any of my Gender Stuff. Because I don't want to have to deal with the 'I just don't understand all of this' because I'm not binary trans (every other trans person she's met has been binary) or 'It would just be easier on everybody if we still called you [deadname] and used she/her' (which, I don't even really have an issue with she/her? I very much prefer they/them but I'm used to she/her and it doesn't bother me to hear it the way hearing my deadname still does).

She doesn't listen to me when I talk about things that actually matter to me. When I talk about shit that she's done that hurts me. Hell, when I tell her she doesn't listen to me she stops listening. I know it'll be a fight if I correct her on my name/pronouns. I know she'll 'forget'. I know when I get emotional about it, because I know I'll get emotional about it, that I'll start to raise my voice (gotta love the struggle with vocal volume regulation huh? I literally can't help it and I barely notice it until someone tells me) and that she'll say 'You're always yelling, I'm not going to listen to you if you yell' and that it's just code for 'I wasn't going to listen anyway because what you have to say isn't important enough for me to try to listen, and you're giving me a convenient excuse to opt out of the blame for that by speaking "too loudly"'.

Anyway. I'm not coming out again until I'm out of this fucking state and living on my own (or at least away from her and the rest of my family).

But I do think, now, I might actually be comfortable with my facial hair/the potential for more pronounced facial hair then too. It's not my problem, it's hers.

[astrxealis]

i am so used to my pinned post i kinda don't want to change the format but i want to

[deconstructthesoup]

One thing I absolutely adore about Dead Boy Detectives is the immaculate costume design. Specifically, how it perfectly encapsulates who the characters are, both as a whole and who they are in the moment.

From the very first scene of the show, we know immediately that Edwin is a bookish, somewhat stuffy guy from the Edwardian era who attended a boarding school, and Charles is a punk from the 1980's who's most likely the wildcard between the two of them, just going off of the way that they're dressed. Both of them have distinct color schemes and different styles, but the general shape of their outfits is actually relatively similar---both of them have collared shirts (Edwin's dress shirt, Charles's polo), something over those shirts (Edwin's vest, Charles's suspenders), a jacket of some kind (Edwin's suit jacket, Charles's flannel thing), a longer overcoat (Edwin's traveling coat, Charles's peacoat), something around the neck (Edwin's bowtie, Charles's necklace), slacks, and nice shoes. They're distinct, yet matching, two clearly defined separate characters yet part of a set.

Edwin's prim, proper, buttoned-up personality lends itself to the way he dresses throughout the season---in the first episode, he only dresses down when he's in the office with Charles, aka his safe place and his safe person, and he doesn't really dress down like that again for a good long while after getting stuck in Port Townsend (though, if my memory serves me correctly, he does take off the suit jacket while watching TV with Niko). But in episode six, he's changed up his usual look for a cozier, casual-looking sweater and a little bit of collarbone, and in episode seven... well, he's in his nightclothes, and he's about as open, raw, and vulnerable as you can get. Edwin's color scheme is also predominately blue, which lines up nicely with his logical and practical, yet deeply sad and closed off personality, and the only time he really wears anything other than his normal blue-and-brown outfit (willingly, that is) is when he's in that green sweater in episode six. And, uh... all I can say is that it's quite telling how blue and green---or, well, teal---are the main colors of the gay/mlm flag.

Charles, by contrast, dresses down a lot, and that makes a lot of sense when you consider the fact that unlike Edwin, he feels comfortable pretty much anywhere. On any given episode, he goes from wearing his peacoat to just wearing his flannel to ditching the flannel to not even wearing the freaking polo---though, again, the latter is something that only happens when he's in the office with Edwin. Safe space, safe person. And, well, plenty of people have analyzed Charles's polo shirt going from red to burgundy to black over the course of the series, and there being a little bit of red under the collar of his coat that's only visible when Edwin fixes it, and then it goes back to burgundy, and then it's red again when Edwin's out of Hell... for good reason! It's color symbolism at its finest! Not to mention, the red and black not only perfectly contrasts Edwin's color scheme, but it also lines up with Charles's personality---he's a rebel, he's hotheaded, he's bold and brash and loud... and yes, he's angry, but he's also so, so loving.

When we first meet Crystal after she loses her memories, her outfit choices feel very deliberate. They're stylish and vaguely trendy, they're arty and a little bit witchy---pretty fitting for a psychic who's also a showbiz kid, even if she doesn't know that last part. But all of her clothes appear thrifted, or at the very least vintage, and the patterns and the general vibe all feel natural and comforting. Her makeup's always fairly simple, her hair's either down or up in a couple of cute space buns... overall, this Crystal looks like the kind of person who'd make you tea when you're in a bad mood, who'll listen when you just need to vent, and who may not always know the right thing to say but will understand what you're going through. But when we see her in the flashbacks, her clothing's flashy and prioritizes high-end trends over comfort, she's either got her hair up or has it straightened, and she not only has dramatic makeup, but acrylics. This is a girl who talks shit about you behind your back, who's bitter and cynical and wants everyone to feel the same way, who makes up for the lack of love and stability in her life via material things. It's also worth noting that Crystal's color scheme has a lot of purple, which is a color that connects to wealth and luxury, but also creativity and magic---which, yeah, fits her two conflicting sides pretty damn well.

You cannot talk about Niko Sasaki without talking about her outfits, and the meaning behind each of them has already been talked about at length. However, one thing that really stands out to me is that the reason they're so iconic isn't just because of the monochrome color schemes, but because they're out there. They're weird, they're eclectic, they're a little mismatched in style sometimes, and they're so unapologetically her. Niko wears heart-shaped sunglasses, unironically. Everything about the way she dresses speaks to how, even though she's a recovering shut-in who initially doesn't want to be perceived, she's still very sure of who she is.

Jenny's design, like Charles and Edwin's, is a design that gives you the key information you need the minute she first appears onscreen. The dark makeup, the silver jewelry, the leather apron, and the hairstyle all point to a person who's tough, doesn't take anyone's shit, and has long since given up on caring what other people think---in other words, she's a badass. But the butterfly tattoo hints at a softer side, a side that we see time and time again throughout the series as she shows that she cares about Crystal and Niko, and even the boys... eventually. Also, Jenny's design is perhaps one of the most clearly queer-coded in the series, to the point where her being a confirmed lesbian is pretty much a no-brainer.

Esther's design oozes camp, from top to bottom. The fluffy coat, the bustier, the boots and the cane and the everything, speak to a woman who's kept with the times and yet has seen it all. There's really not a lot I can fully say about her design, other than what Charles has already said: "She looks like a witch... like, kind of a sexy witch, who smokes a lot." (Or maybe I'm just tired and running out of steam at this point, idk, I love Esther's design and I can't really put it into words.) It's also pretty fitting that her color scheme has a lot of yellow in it---after all, she's always striving for more, so what better color for her than the color of gold?

Everything about the Night Nurse's design speaks to a woman who follows rules and discipline above all else, from the pantsuit to the pinned-up hairstyles to the tie to the heels. She's also the most muted out of the main cast in terms of color, dressing mostly in browns, dull greens, and duller browns---and while I don't have a lot to go into detail about there, I feel like that's kind of a symbol of her narrow-minded and bureaucratic worldview.

And the animal characters... Jesus Christ, I fully forget that they're all being played by human actors. Tragic Mick dresses like a man who's always spent his life by the sea, layered denim and all, and it's never a stretch to see this sad, bushy-bearded, baggy-clothed fisherman and imagine him as a walrus lounging on a beach. Monty, at first glance, seems to only wear black, which would be perfectly fitting for a crow, but when he's in better lighting, you see that he dresses in layers of red and blue, calling to how he envies Charles and Edwin and clearly longs for something more---and this might just be me, but I think that even though his outfits seem fairly normal at first glance, they feel kind of like a costume for Monty more than anything else, like he's trying to emulate a teenager that he's seen on TV more than someone in real life.

The Cat King fits this just as well, with all of his outfits aligning perfectly with whatever his cat form is at the time---when he's a fluffy ginger, it's always sequins and fur coats and clothing pieces that are specifically designed to take up space and call attention, and when he's a black shorthair, it's sleek styles and shiny leather and pieces that are designed to cut an intimidating yet more subtle figure. And while I could go into detail about all of those, what really stands out to me is how clearly queer everything is---more than Jenny's alt lesbian attire, more than Esther's campy coat and corset. From the very first scene he's in, he's wearing a skirt, and it looks natural. Nothing about the way the Cat King presents himself is exaggerated, nothing about the way he dresses is played for laughs---he's flamboyant and feminine and flirty, and he looks so fucking hot while he does it. It's gorgeous.

So... yeah, uh, all the awards for the Dead Boy Detectives costume designers!

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Trinkets

Five presents Jason brought you back from his adventures and one you asked for. (+ one) ~1.2k words of fluff

Jason Todd brings you home gifts from his missions, which wouldn't be a problem, but he never really explains what they are.

The first time it happened, you had laughed at the green ring with a lantern symbol in the middle. It looked cheesy, like one of the fake ones you can buy from the superhero merch stores littered around malls and outlets.

You'd kissed his cheek in thanks, put it on your shelf, and never gave it a second thought.

At least you didn't, until a bright green glow woke you up from your sleep. You'd sat up immediately, jaw practically dropping to the sheets as the ring lifted itself off your shelf and flew out the window.

Jason barely budged, his arm still thrown over your waist. He let out yawn and cuddled closer before speaking, voice groggy and heavy, "Huh. Didn't think they noticed that one was gone."

"They," You half yell, voice pitching as you stare at his outline, hidden in the shadows of the room.

"The Guardians, babe," he yawns out, "They're in charge of the space cops. Just go back to sleep."

Naturally, you do not go back to sleep. You drag him to the kitchen, make tea, and demand he explains why a Green Lantern ring was in your apartment. (He's very happy to)

The second time it happens, you're much more wary of the gift he brings home. But to be fair, he can't really pass off an Amazonian steel sword as something he just picked up.

It doesn't take as much convincing as it should for you to let him mount it on your wall. But it's a sword! No one can blame you for thinking it looks cool in your living room.

It turns out keeping it around is pretty useful, because a few weeks later, your boyfriend crawls through your window, dressed head to toe in armor.

"Hey, doll," he drawls, "Can I borrow your sword?"

"Sure," You chirp back, more preoccupied with your book as he saunters over to the sword, "what for?"

"Artie's got confiscated, and we haven't gotten to steal it back yet," he supplies, stopping long enough to pull his helmet up and kiss your head.

"Oh, that sucks," You answer, offhandedly, "Give her and Bizzaro my love."

"You got it, babe," he chirps already halfway out your window.

He does bring your sword back, covered in green blood, but no worse for wear. It still looks great on your wall.

He brings you a box next. It's kind of ugly looking, but you thank him nonetheless.

"Be careful with it," he tells you as you flip it over in your hands, "It opens boom tubes."

You almost drop it, and if you hadn't already experienced the power ring, you would have shrieked at him. Instead, you manage to put it down very carefully and calmly ask, "It does what?"

"Open boom tubes," he answers, which clears absolutely nothing up, "I figured we could use it to country hop for our next date night. You know, dinner in Paris, drinks in Dubai, dessert in LA."

"Okay," You answer slowly, as if that makes complete sense.

It turns out, it does. Date night is lovely, and making out with your boyfriend on a random beach in Spain is very, very nice.

Batman waiting in your apartment to take back the boom box isn't so nice, though.

Jason tells you it was worth it. He's absolutely right.

The third thing Jason brings you is a plant. Flowers aren't a rare show of affection from him, but ones that move are.

"Uh, thank you, Jason," You start, prodding at the moving petals, they nuzzle your fingers the same way a kitten would, "But I don't know how to take care of these."

"Same way you take care of any other plant, water, fertilizer, nutrients, all that fun stuff," he says fondly, stroking a few of the petals.

"What if it gets sick," You ask, uncertain.

"We'll call Ivy," he says, unbothered.

"Right. Ivy. Poison Ivy. Who you know," You mumble, but the little plant is already worming its way into your heart. (You affectionately name it Daisy, for no other reason then it sways happily when you say that name)

The fourth thing Jason brings you makes you laugh because you know exactly what it is, "Jason, we can't keep this."

"Why not," he pleads, shaking the bright green quiver filled with arrows at you.

You giggled harder, smiling wide as you shake your head at him, "We don't even know what those do. Don't some of those explode?"

"So what," he huffs, practically pouting, "We can ask Roy. And it's not like I don't know my way around explosives."

"I guess so," You relent, trying to stifle your laughs as you inspect the bright green arrows, "How did you even get this?"

His eyes light up mischievously, "Do you really want to know?"

You stop short and narrow your eyes at him, "I would lose my plausible deniability."

"But you wanna know," he says, sly and playful.

You do. (It involves mutated chickens, tar, and one distracted Oliver Queen. You hang the quiver next to the sword)

Jason's getting ready to leave, bags packed and helmet lazy held under his arm, "Can I bring you back anything specific, doll" he asks, his free hand resting comfortably against your cheek, "Lasso of Truth? Maybe something with magic?"

You grin at him, leaning into his touch, "I actually do have something in mind."

"Oh," he prompts, eyes glinting with excitement.

"I want to complete my batarang collection."

He falters, "Your– what?"

"No one has," You exclaim, pulling away to showcase your collection, "I have Nightwings, Batgirls, Batmans, yours, of course, one of Robin's. But I'm missing Spoilers, Batwomans, Signals, and Red Robins."

He blinks at you, "That's– if that's what you want."

You giggle at how dumbfounded he looks, practically bouncing back over to him to kiss him, "Thank you, Jason."

He catches your waist and pulls you back in for another, longer kiss that leaves you both breathless and panting. His voice lowers, like it's a secret, "I'll bring you back some batarangs. See you in a few days?"

"See you in a few days," You echo, and he winks at you as he tugs on his helmet, leaving out your window.

Sure enough, you get your batarangs when he gets home. It takes some convincing, a few kisses that leave you senseless, but you get Jason to help you mount your batarang collection alongside the sword and quiver.

"I should get you a plasma rifle next," he drawls, admiring your growing wall of weapons.

"I think I'd fall over if I tried to shoot one of those," You point out, all smiles.

"I'll teach you," he tells you, hooking an arm around your waist to draw you closer.

Jason's a man of his word, and sure enough, he brings you home a plasma cannon after his next mission.

You only destroy most of the shooting range in the batcave when he lets you try it out.

[ask-the-colony-tree-siblings]

Gourmand: Any minute now.

Hunter: …I-

Arti: I’m sorry!

Hunter: Huh?

Arti: I-I’m so sorry. For attacking you, and for- for everything. 

Arti: I’ve been such an asshole to you.

Hunter: …Yeah you have been an asshole. But I fucked up too, I didn’t know what I was saying. I thought… 

Hunter: …it doesn’t matter what I thought. I shouldn’t have said that. I, uh… I-I heard about your k-

Arti: Don’t. It’s in the past now.

Gourmand: Is it? 

Gourmand: You attacked him over saying something that triggered you, so no, it doesn’t seem to be all in the past. 

Gourmand: It isn’t fair to hurt someone for not knowing something that you never told them. 

PART ONE IS DONE!!!!!!!!! Part two will probably come in about, uh, seven years, give or take. /j

(It isn’t perfect, but it’s been too long and I needed to get the first part of this comic out. I’m honestly super happy I finished, because it was unnecessarily hard lmao. Anyways I’m gonna ramble in the tags now)

[rayhalloffame]

NSFW MDNI!

Imagining being new to Art and Tashi’s relationship. They’re both so captivated by you that they need to get to know your body separately. They need to be able to take their time and play with you the way they really want.

Tashi figures you out quickly enough. She knows exactly what to say, knows how to move her hands on you. She’s the perfect balance of teasing and pushover. She likes to see how far she can take you but when you’re begging her to let you come, she can’t deny you. Tashi strokes your face and whispers to you while her fingers assault your clit. You come so hard your toes curl and your head presses back into the pillows.

Art doesn’t have as much finesse. He eats you leisurely, uses his fingers to add some intensity. And while it feels good, and he looks so handsome between your legs, you’re just not able to get there. To spare his feelings, you fake it, and he kisses you after gleefully.

This works for a few weeks while the three of you have yet to engage in sexual activities together. Until Tashi is kissing your neck and cheeks and squeezing her hand around your tit while Art makes himself at home between your legs. You feel good, like you always do, closing your eyes and really trying to concentrate on his tongue which has a better rhythm than his fingers. Truth be told, you want Tashi’s fingers, so you fake it in hopes of continued play. Art is rubbing your thigh and when you open your eyes Tashi is staring down at you. You silently plea with her to not make it a thing.

Instead, she releases the tension between your eyebrows with her thumb. “Want me to teach Artie how to take care of you, hmm?�� Your cheeks flame and when you look to Art he has his own crease between his brows. He vocalizes his confusion and Tashi is very blunt. “You don’t know how to make her finish,” she says, but rubs a hand across his messy hair.

His eyes find yours, asks if that’s true. You nod, quick to add, “but it feels so good, please don’t be mad!”

Art crawls up to lay beside you, cups your cheek and kisses you. “I’m not mad, pretty girl. My ego’s a bit bruised but I’m not mad.” Your eyes are glassy anyway and he swipes his thumb beneath one before the tear can fall. “You have to speak up, alright? I want to make you feel good, give you what you deserve.” You bite your lip and nod.

Tashi rubs a hand across your belly. “Go on, tell him.” She nods encouragingly, hand moving to toy with your clit. Your hips jolt into her hand.

“I, uh, need you to talk to me. Y’know, tease me, make me desperate,” you say bashfully. “Tell me what you want to do to me, but don’t always give it to me right away.” Art looks like he’s taking mental notes, nodding seriously.

Tashi is in your ear then. She bites the lobe, tells you you’re doing so good, rewards you by speeding up her fingers on your clit which sends shivers down your spine. She nods at Art to try.

Art captures your gaze, whispers so close to your face that you can smell mint on his tongue, “I can’t wait to split your little pussy open on my cock.” Your eyes widen and you nod into the palm he still has against your cheek. Art licks into your mouth, moves his hand slowly down your body until his fingers tease at your opening. You nod, egging him on, but he just traces his fingers there.

You grip the back of his neck. “Just like that,” you praise. He pushes a finger into you. Tashi grabs his wrist and repositions it to an angle she knows you like, and when he curls his finger you’re mewling.

Art adds another finger, stretching you while he finds a rhythm you like. “You’re so tight,” he groans, pulling your tit into his mouth. His fingers fuck you in sync to Tashi’s rhythm on your clit.

Tashi kisses at the underside of your jaw. “I don’t know, baby, he might be too big to fit.” Art curls his fingers, and you gush. Art spends the rest of the night probing you to tell him what else you like and then getting to work. It’s Tashi who pulls him from you when you become visibly overstimulated, wipes a mix of spit and juices from his chin, says you all will have plenty of time to learn each other. They’re going to keep you forever.

[amymbona]

can u pls expand on them fawning over u being tashis friend pls??? like how they would find out abt u being at the academy or if tashi would work as their wingwoman or smth??

Abso-fucking-lutely!

The boys have been staying at Stanford for about a weak, sleeping in your and Tashi's dorm room on a mattress that they fetched God knows where. You don't really question anything regarding the two, knowing the more attention you'd pay to them, the crazier you would go. And at the time, you genuinely can't afford to lose yourself over two boys you used to have a crush on.

However, the boys are making it infinitely harder for you. They seem to be everywhere you are, asking you how your practice went, how did you do on that literature exam and if you want a company for lunch. As if they have figured out your whole schedule and everything else concerning youe life at Stanford.

If only you knew that your precious roommate is the one feeding the boys' little brains with valuable information about you, you'd probably threaten to burn one of her favourite Adidas sports sets. But Tashi is far from stupid and far from blind, she can very clearly see how interested the boys are in you. And she knows damn well that you need to get laid as well.

She never really told them about your background, judging that it's only your call to do so, and honestly, the missing knowledge of your past really doesn't discourage Patrick and Art from going after you. What matters to them is your immense cuteness and bashful smiles you cast in their direction when they speak to you. Your beautiful body that they imagine squished on the bed between their own, where they hands would have access to each square inch of your soft skin. How badly they are aching to touch you, to hold and kiss you, to make you their.

"So... Any plans for the weekend?" Art questions, breaking the calm silence of the dorm room, his head resting against Patrick's shoulder.

"Uh, no, not really." you shake your head. "Tash?"

"Nope, nothing. Just practice." she responds without lifting her gaze up from her notebook, probably scribbling down something about tennis.

"Well, me and Artie wanted to go clubbing, 'cause I dunno 'bout you, but I'm thirsty for some beer." Patrick proposes, patting Art's thigh.

In reality, they are just hoping to get you drunk and find out more about you, perhaps find an excuse to touch you after getting you drunk and having to transport you back to your bed.

Immediately, Tashi senses the hidden plan. "Well, Y/N could show you some places."

"Me?" you almost choke onto your saliva. "You know I don't go out that often."

"But you liked the place down the corner, y'know, where we went last time."

This is how you find yourself at a local bar, popular mainly among the young aduls attending the Stanford university, stuffed in a ridiculously short dress that Tashi insisted makes your booty look the best. The boys are on their third drink, their behaviour not so different to the sober state. If anything, the alcohol is merely allowing them to proceed with their flirting game.

"So Y/NNN..." Patrick is in a slightly looser shape than Art, his arm thrown around your shoulders in a leisured manner. "Feeling drunk enough?"

Drunk? No. Hot and borhered and flustered? Hell yeah.

"You could use a drink or two. Not that we're forcing you into anything." Art proposes with a gentle smile, sliding his glass of whiskey along the countertop right in front of you.

"He's right, baby, drink. Don't worry, we'll take care of you." Patrick's lips brush over the shell of your ear as he picks the glass up and brings it to your lips.

Four glasses and some songs later, you're in the middle of the dancefloor, surrounded by sweaty bodies and squished between the two handsome tennis players. While you're facing Art, hands lazily resting on his shoulders, his cheeky smile completely filling your field of vision, Patrick's behind you, chest rubbing against your back, palms planted on your hips.

And they can't believe it, that they have you so close, half drunk and slowly losing your mind. They're ready to be your bodyguards whispering in your ear that they've got you, that you're okay. Just enjoy yourself, you're safe with them. Plus they feel so fucking good.

"You're so pretty, Y/N." Art leans in, forehead resting against yours as his hands wrap tighter around your waist.

Almost whining that he's attempting to steal you from him, Patrick is basically glued to your back, sealing the sandwich the three of you form. "Our pretty girl."

It's all too hot, too loud and sweaty, not your optimal choice for a Friday evening. But at the moment, you wouldn't want to be anywhere else. They're holding you so nice, pressing into you from all sides, making your body burn with the touches of their palms. Tiny kisses are being placed on your jaw and neck, both of the boys testing the waters and smirking when you do nothing to push them away. As if your mind is too clouded to realise what's actually going on.

What they don't know is, that this is your teenage dream coming true. The two boys you spent long months having such an intense crush on, wishing they could see you the way you see them. That they would touch and hold and kiss you the way you imagine it, the exact way that they are doing it now. And it feels so good to have such power over them, to have them completely wrapped around your finger. At that point, you swear to yourself you'll never tell them about your background, about the academy. Because if they love the Stanford version of you, why would you remind them that there a tennis academy one as well?

[cowboyboygirl]

23 & 6 for timkon?

Love your writing!!

awww tysm :D

23 & 6 | "Can you just hold me?" & “I've got you."

If Tim were less of a good samaritan, he’d stop volunteering himself for things. This way he wouldn’t be freezing his ass off in Ontario.

An elementary school had gotten caught in the middle of the continental flash freeze that North America is currently experiencing, effectively snowed-in to the extreme. That isn’t the part he’s upset about. No, that would be the glorified babysitting that he and Supernova are currently doing.

Look, he doesn’t dislike kids. In fact, he doesn’t mind these ones at all. He does, however, dislike standing out in the cold with nothing more than his under armor for his winter suit because one of the kid’s warm layers got torn.

Obviously he’s been through much worse; however, he was just cuddled next to Kon in the farmhouse living room, head on Kon's shoulder, on the verge of passing out with his mug of hot chocolate still in his hands. Now, he feels like his legs are turning into icicles. The whole thing is just cruel. Gotham may have its chilly nights, but it’s got nothing on Canada. It takes a lot of willpower to keep his teeth from chattering.

Seemingly taking a break from entertaining the children, Kon waltzes over. He must notice Tim's jittery demeanor; he cocks his head to the side. “You cold, Robbie?” His winter attire consists of a single striped scarf. Damn Kryptonian thermoregulation.

Tim purses his lips. “…No.”

Kon nods. “Alright. I believe you.” He shrugs off his jacket and hands it off to Tim. “Could you keep an eye on my jacket though? For no particular reason.”

“I dunno, I wouldn't want to mess up something so delicate. It is your favorite jacket after all.”

Smirking, Kon moves in closer. “Well, I could always show you how to take care of it. With you being my favorite Robin and all.” He drapes the jacket over Tim's shoulders, smoothing the material as he goes. It sort of swamps him—and probably looks a bit ridiculous over his cape—but Kon smiles like he’s satisfied with his work.

Tim tips his head back to look up at him. “Thanks.” Cowl or not, he’s sure his expression is awfully tender.

Kon finds his hand and squeezes. “Don't mention it.”

“Um, Mr. Nova.” One of the kids has wandered over to them. Tim can only see her eyes over her giant, lime green puffer-coat. Kon does an over-exaggerated sidestep and Tim has to hide his smile in the jacket’s cuff.

“Oh hey, Gabi! Wassup?” Kon sets his hands on his hips and leans forward the slightest bit.

“Well, Rimi told Arti that they were better at four-square than him, and now they’re kinda fighting. So, I was wondering if you could use your magic to make them stop.” Behind her is the telltale sign of a fight; a group of children stand in a circle that Tim can only assume is completely obscuring the squabbling.

Tim raises an eyebrow (not that anyone can see it) as he turns to Kon. “…Your magic?”

“Yeah.” Gabi continues before Kon can interject, “his tact—tack. Uh. His title tetanus…”

“My tactile telekinesis?” Kon offers, looking thoroughly amused.

Gabi nods. “Uh-huh, that. Can you help please?”

Kon smirks. “‘Course I can.” He very dramatically stamps his boot down onto the pavement; Tim sees the crowd disperse as the two children are slid back and away from each other. As soon as they’re set down, one of them scrambles over.

“Gabi, you snitch!” They exclaim as they charge at her, barely catching themself before they barrel over.

Gabi throws her arms out. “You guys could’ve gotten hurt! I was being responsible!”

“Whatever,” they scowl, folding their arms over their chest, "I hope scary-bird-man gets you. And Supernova won’t even save you because that’s his friend.”

“His name is Red Robin, stupid.” The second kid skids to stop behind the first. He turns his nose up. “He said it earlier.”

“I’ll show you stupid—“ They start before Kon pulls them up by their hood. They immediately deflate and stare at him with awe in their eyes; it’s honestly very cute. “Hey, so, let’s not hit Arti. Again.”

“Yeah!” Arti seconds. Now that Tim looks, he recognizes him from earlier. He informed Tim that he reminds him of his cat, and that he should invest in cat ears for his getup.

Gabi frowns. “You literally hit them first.”

He should probably say something instead of standing here awkwardly. “Violence should be a last resort.” Tim tries, causing all the kids to turn their attention to him.

Kon sets the other kid (presumably Rimi) back down. They wrinkle their nose. “Why do you have on Supernova’s jacket?”

Tim blinks, taken aback. Kids can move on from a subject shockingly fast.

Thankfully, Kon answers for him. “Oh, don’t worry. Red was just grouchy because he doesn’t know how to properly bundle up and I had to help him out.” All the kids laugh when Tim scowls in response.

He huffs and raises his shoulders higher for effect. Kon throws him a smaller smile—more personal, just for him—and Tim is very grateful for the fact his cowl covers so much of his face. “Well, not everyone is a solar-powered alien.”

Kon shrugs. “What can I say? I'm so cool, the cold simply doesn’t phase me.”

“Woah, Supernova doesn’t even need his jacket?” Rimi says, “That is pretty cool. Bird man, is it hard being friends with someone cooler than you?”

“I just told you that his name is Red—“ Arti starts; Gabi covers his mouth.

“Eh, you get used to it.” Tim admits. Kon’s face looks slightly surprised before melting into an extremely smug grin.

“Must be hard when you’re bald, though.” Rimi shakes their head. “‘Specially when Supernova has really pretty hair.”

Kon snickers into his hands before, “Aw, thank you! You know, it takes one to know one. Your hair is pretty sick too.”

They smile so wide that Tim knows their cheeks must hurt. “Really?!” Rimi whips their head around. “You hear that, Arti? Supernova complimented me.”

He rolls his eyes. “Duh, I heard him. I'm right here.”

Tim snorts; he’s extremely entertained right now. Arti blinks up at him. “My cat also makes that face whenever he sneezes,” he looks down at his boots as one scuffs the ground, "I miss my cat so so so much...”

“Hopefully you’ll get to see your cat very soon.” Tim tells him. (Last he and Kon checked, there were a few traffic jams that are getting cleared up about now.) He paws through one of his utility belt compartments before he finds what he’s looking for; a single lollipop with a shittily drawn bat emblem on it. “Think this’ll hold you over till then?”

He smiles wide. “Yes! Thank you, Mr. Red Robin!” he very enthusiastically pops it into his mouth before he attempts to tell Rimi what Tim thinks roughly translates to “Who’s winning now?”

Rimi grins at him, all teeth. “Still me!”

Arti frowns. “Nuh-uh.”

“Yuh-huh.” Rimi insists.

Gabi drops her head, places her hands over it. “Guys. Guys, I really can’t do this again.”

The other two completely ignore her, moving back towards the others as they continue. She follows them, whether it’s because she secretly enjoys it or out of obligation if up for debate; either way, she throws Tim and Kon a tired looking expression before she goes.

Tim readjusts the jacket around himself. “That was… something.”

Kon snorts. “Truly. I believe the lovely ladies that frequent bingo would refer to them as ‘a hoot and a half.’”

“I don’t know how you deal with them so easily.” Tim shakes his head.

“Reading stories to kindergarteners a few times a week makes fifth graders seem like a breeze. No hate to the kindergarteners, of course.”

A particularly strong gush of wind comes through and Tim can’t hold back his shiver. Yeah, okay, thanks wind. He remembers why he was hating life earlier. Kon turns to him, cocky as ever. “Still not cold, Rob?”

“Nope.” Tim says through gritted teeth. Another breeze and—he gives up. Before Kon can even say anything, “Whatever. Fine. Just—hold me. Since you’re so cold resistant.”

Kon wraps his arms around him and squeezes; he immediately feels ten times better. But—he doesn’t let himself melt just yet, lest Kon's ego be fed. “Yeah, I got you.”

Tim lets his smile be extremely dorky, knowing that it’s properly covered. “I know.”

[nothing-impt]

(I lost my mind thinking about how the Fried Chicken Au came about and wrote a crack fic ft. Flying snakes. Also I am terrible at writing but I couldn't help myself)

---- “Ah, darling! There you are, as much as I love staring into your eyes, where is your blindfold?”  Hermes chirped, greeting the prophet as he sat next to him near the Lethe. Tiresias scoffed, “Oedipus came by today and pissed on all of them. I sent them to the wash.” “All of them?” “Every single one. Is everything alright? I was told you needed to meet me rather urgently.” He paused. “Is it about Odysseus? Did something happen to him?” Hermes cleared his throat. “No. My lovely great-grandson’s doing fine! He should be heading home pretty soon!” “So what’s the issue?” “...” “Hermes?” “Uh.. maybe you should just feel me to find out.” “Hermes, I am not falling for your tricks to get me to grope you.” “No, no! I’m being serious! Just trust me.” Tiresias leaned over and reached for where Hermes was supposed to be and his fingers brushed air. He scowled “There’s nothing there. I told you, no more tricks.” “You’re almost there! Just move your hands down a little!” “You better not be lying-” His fingers brushed against feathers. “Am I touching your shoes?” Hermes chuckled nervously “No?” The prophet pulled back “What exactly am I touching?” “Uh.. I’m kind of a dove now?” “Please tell me you’re joking.” Tiresias deadpanned. “I wish I was! One moment I was delivering messages and the next- boom! I was a bird! Here, touch me again!” A nearby soul wolf whistled and Tiresias hushed him, face burning  “Please, don’t say it like that!” he bent down and stroked dove Hermes, who crooned happily. “Maybe I should bring you to Lord Hades. He might have an answer.” Dove Hermes (Dovemes?) squawked out a laugh and ruffled his feathers. “I doubt it, all the Olympians have been affected. Dad’s currently an eagle, Polly’s a crow and Arty’s a quail. Don’t get me started on Uncle P, he’s a blue seagull! But Dio’s a little scary…” “What bird did Lord Dionysus turn into? A hawk?” “Worse. He turned into this purple flamingo-looking sculpture. He doesn’t move. Just stares. He kept asking for a drink though. Dad told the nymphs to dunk him in a bowl of wine so we all didn’t have to look at him. Aphrodite was super creeped out. She’s a swan, by the way.” Tiresias shuddered, “A curse must have been afflicted for Olympians to turn this way. Especially Lord Dionysus, to be deprived of movement.” Dovemes crooned in agreement as Tiresias continued to pet his feathers. “Anyway, it’s highly likely that Uncle Hades is a bird too! Look, he’s here now- Oh. nice eyes Uncle H!” Tiresias reached over to grab his staff and stood to greet the ruler of the Underworld. “Lord Hades.” “Greetings, Tiresias. Nephew, I see you have told the prophet about our predicament?” Dovemes lets out a chirp, “Yup! Wow, Uncle, I’m really digging the dazed look you’re going for- ow!” Tiresias prodded Hermes with his staff once more. “He may be your uncle, but don’t forget who you’re talking to. May I ask what bird you are Lord Hades?”

The sound of the ruffling feathers was heard, “I am a Potoo. Though I suppose we are centuries before its kind is made known to Greece. Excuse me, while I go find my wife to explain why her husband is currently a bird from  unknown origins.” With a squawk and a beat of wings, Hades left. Dovemes sighed, “Well, I better get going.” Tiresias raised a brow, “What? But you’re still stuck as a bird!” “Dad just sent out a message, he wants all of us to gather in Olympus to figure this out. I won’t visit for a while, but you can have this!”

Tiresias felt a small-clawed foot slip a feather into his palm. "Wait. Hang on-"

“I’ll see you around, darling!” And Dovemes flew off.

Tiresias sighed. What in Zeus’ name is going on?

[stubz]

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" whispered the Beerix.

"Your communicator doesn't have service on Earth and my phone is dead. I need to charge it somewhere and this is the closest place that won't ID us." the human looked through the window into the crowded pub searching for an outlet.

"Just...hood up, hat pulled down, and stay close to me." she whispered as they reached the front of line.

"How do you know they won't ID us-?"

"Two people? Alright, come on in!" smiles the doorman.

The human and beerix walk in and are hit with body heat, loud music, dozens of loud voices, and a wave of bodies.

"Told you, now come on, there's an outlet over there."

Pushing and shoving their way through the crow the duo makes it to the back of the pub where a table and some stools are. Quickly the human takes out a charger and plugs in her phone.

"Great, now we just need to wait."

"For how long?"

"At least 10 minutes so we'll make it to the nearest base."

"I hate it here. It's loud and...smelly." wrinkles the beerix's snout.

"I know...here I'll buy you something to eat. Want a drink too?"

"...fine. Just be quick."

"Alright, remember, hoo-"

"Hood up, hat pulled down, yeah yeah I know Kim, you only told me a hundred times tonight."

"...sorry, I'll get you that food and drink!"

He watched as his friend disappeared into the crowd and huddled into chair. Every couple of seconds he checked the phone hoping that'd it'd miraculously be fully charged so they could go.

"Come to Earth they said, it'll be fun they said...why couldn't we just have stayed on the ship and go to the new year's party like usual?"

"Excuse me mate? Can we sit here?" he whipped his head up to see three humans standing before him.

"Uh..."

"It's just that there's no where ta sit and it looks like it's just you and friend so could we?"

"...sure." he forced out knowing it'd draw more attention to say no and that more people would just ask this very same question later.

"Thanks mate! I'm Arty, this is Celia, and this is Sean. What's your name?"

"...Quip."

"I love that name! And your hat! It's so gorgeous, where'd you buy it?"

"Oh my god Celia look at his eyes! They're shiny like...like flashlights."

"Don't mind them, they're a bit drunk right now." Laughed Arty.

"No worries..."

"Real nice hat though, never seen a design like before."

"Thanks...it's foreign."

"From where???" lean in the two Irish.

"Knock it off you two or I'll knock some sense into you."

"I...it's from..."

"Sweden! Hi nice to meet you, I'm Kim. Got you fries and a Guinness." she slides over to her friend.

"Oh lovely choice! They got great Guinness here!"

"I know, got one for myself."

The three Irish began to talk amongst themselves while Quip grabbed the attention of his friend and crewmate.

"We gotta go, now." he hissed.

"We can't until finishing our food and drinks, leaving without doing so would raise suspicion." she whispers back smiling at the three other humans.

"Two of them are drunk and the sober one wouldn't care."

"Maybe or maybe he would since as the only sober one he's on high alert right now. Besides I only have 8%. We need to wait now drink your Guinness and eat your fries."

"...you didn't even get one of those tiny drinks I like."

"Those are shots and this will last longer and tastes better."

"Better..."

[Four Guinness later]

"HE WAS A SKATER BOY SHE SAID SEE YOU LATER BOY, HE WASN'T GOOD ENOUGH FOR HER!

SHE HAD A PRETTY FACE BUT HER HEAD WAS UP IN SPACE, SHE NEEDED TO COME BACK TO EAARRTH!!" screamed Quip, Celia and Sean, the three drunkenly dancing and singing to the song playing in the pub. Somehow Quip's hat ended up on Celia along with his hood on Sean, his pointed ears, snout and grey skin out for everyone to see.

"I can't believe how good your friend's cosplay is."

"I know...he loves Dragon Ball." smiles Kim thankful that Celia thought Quip said he was Beerus instead of Beerix.

"Yeah killer Beerus cosplay, too bad he couldn't get purple paint though."

"MATE HOW DO YOU NOT KNUR DIS ONE?!"

"I KNOW IT NOW!"

"OI SHUDDUP IT'S THE BESHT PART!"

"CAUSE I'M JUST A TEENAGE DIRTBAG BABY! YEAH I'M JUST A TEENAGE DIRTBAG BABY! LISTEN TO IRON MAIDEN BABY!!"

Kim laughed as she watched her friend continue to poorly sing to the songs her and most of everyone else here grew up with.

"Quip! Quip! it's time to go!"

"Don't wanna! It's fun here!"

"Quip, Kal and Glip are probably worried about you! My phone is charged up, let's go!"

"Nooo!"

"Aw listen, listen to your friend mate, gotta get home to your family..."

"Yeah, don't wanna worry 'em. My girlfriend would call tha police if I didn't check in with her..."

After some more coaxing from Sean and Celia, Quip finally gave in and followed Kim out of the pub.

A phone call and bus ride later the two were soon reunited with the rest of their crew and soon went back to their ship.

Tomorrow Quip will be banned from drinking for 3 months by his partners and the Captain as he was trending on social media due to Celia and Sean posting the selfies and videos they took with him...which he drunkenly agreed to while his hat and hood were down.

For the rest of the month #IrishBeerus was a popular post.

[staridust]

“All’s fair in love and war!”

“ What a better way to celebrate a birthday than with a fun game of laser tag? It’s a party under the ultraviolet lights, and Jack and Artemis are ready to be the best team on the field! There’s nothing that can separate them, but uh… Jack? Why is your vest red? ”

Catch another glowing special episode of Sunnyverse on March 9th, Saturday morning at 9:30/8:30 central, and don’t forget to say Happy Birthday, Artemis! ★

★ DO NOT USE/REPOST WITHOUT MY PERMISSION. NO MINORS.

—

Hey space crew! Thanks for opening the captain’s log. ★

Man, it’s been a while since a post, yeah? I hit that classic burnout stage. Got lost in the universe burnout for a long while and couldn’t draw much for months. I am alright, but what a crash >>.

This drawing was started on 1/21 and was supposed to come out for my birthday (1/23). I turned 22! Finally big big goober age and still very silly! ☆ But uh, I missed that deadline, haha. I spent a good extra 2 months on it by accident. Working on and off over the course of multiple days, working in general, wehhhhhhah.

Told myself to get it done by Artie’s birthday (3/9) too, and then well, missed that too! Sheeeesh. But it’s done now and I quite enjoy the outcome for what it’s worth. I hope you all do too!

Artie’s hair took so long to shade… I want to shave them bald. Jk. Partially…

—

This “episode” focuses on well, a laser tag party! Jack isn’t the type to be extra competitive usually, but he was over the sun excited to be on the same team as Artemis. The two had a game plan: blue team will reign supreme! Watch my back! <3

Except for when the game started, Jack’s vest lit up in the enemies color. Accidental traitor. Maybe he could ask the referees to pause the game so he could swap— oh! Artie just zapped him and ran off.

Suddenly, Jack is extremely good at this game.

(advertising works as episode promotions is very fun. :3)

—

🔆 Click here for Jack’s birthday drawing that I did a few months ago!

Non-dialogue version.

Again, do not use my works or OCs for anything without asking for my consent directly. This includes reuploads to other websites, pfp’s, or collages/edits of any kind. (or at least let me see the edit if it’s fire)

[cloudcountry]

Uh baking an Apple pie with issac? Or issac with a s/o who's a fanfic writer! either one is fine! c:

SUMMARY: Isaac's been working hard lately, so you take Arthur's advice and make him a tasty treat!!

WARNINGS: None!! :D

COMMENTS: i'm trying to get back in the writing groove,,, i havent done it in so long it feels so unfamiliar ^^; thank you for requesting my apple tater!! he's the perfect start :D

this takes place before isaac and mc really know each other??? I TOOK YOUR REQUEST IN A VERY DIFFERENT DIRECTION OOPS. its just artie being a wingman LMAO

Skimming the shelves, you mumble titles to yourself as you search for the cookbook Sebastian recommended to you. You’d offhandedly mentioned making a pie for a certain someone, and the butler was quick to catch onto what you were actually trying to do. After all, said certain someone had been working hard enough to lose valuable sleep, and you weren’t the only one becoming concerned.

Snatching the book off the shelves as soon as you find it, you begin flipping through the pages. You’re so absorbed in the recipes and detailed descriptions of sweet treats that you don’t notice the other presence creeping up behind you.

“Well, I’ll be! Newt is quite a lucky guy!” Arthur hums thoughtfully, nearly scaring you out of your skin.

“Hey! What are you doing here?” you yelp.

Arthur laughs heartily as you fumble with the book, snapping it shut. Your gaze is scornful as you whip around to face him, lips twisted into a pout.

“Aw, I’m sorry love. I didn’t mean to scare you.” he slides up to you, leaning in to get a closer look at the book, “If you want to make something for him, I’d recommend something with apples. Our old Newt loves them dearly!”

Apples? You furrow your brow, running through the list of apple desserts you know. And how did he know it was for Isaac?!

“Oh, and love? Why not make the dessert with him? It’ll drag him away from his work.” Arthur winks, and just like that, he slips out of the kitchen.

That’s how you ended up here, with Isaac at your side. It’d taken quite a bit of convincing to get him out of his room and even more convincing to have him agree to bake an apple pie with you, but somehow you succeeded. You doubt anyone else would have gotten the same result.

Isaac’s soft voice is quite loud in the silence of the kitchen as he reads out ingredients, murmuring under his breath about how he would measure them and doing calculations to make sure the dessert was perfect—

“Woah, hold on Isaac!” you place a hand on the recipe book, pulling it away from his face.

He immediately stops at the sudden contact, pretty eyes blown wide at the sight of you so close to his face.

“This isn’t supposed to be a science experiment! We just need to have fun, okay?” you try your best to smile in a way that will calm him down and help him understand.

Isaac simply looks away and grasps at his hair, twirling the loose strands around his index finger.

“Okay.” he murmurs, and you do a mental celebratory dance.

Operation befriend Isaac is underway!

[challenger-fan-club]

Tennis Academy Art needs taught a lesson.

It's very late at night and Art is tossing in his sleep. The cool air of the room breezes over his naked chest while he fiddles about with the covers him. He hears a slight moan and his eyes open a bit wider. Patrick must still be awake. "can't sleep huh." Art whispers slightly. "Jesus, Art I thought you were asleep!" There is a slight fright in his tone, mixed with anger. "Sorry man, I'm just very restless tonight." Art tried to make sure he wasn't too mad at him. "Me too but I WAS trying to take care of it myself." His voice was raspy while he spoke. "What do you mean?" Art whispered back. "Come on... you know..." Patrick was skirting around the issue but Art was innocent and genuinely clueless at what he meant. "You know... it helps you sleep." Art was lying on his back staring at the ceiling, trying to rack his brain what Patrick was meaning. "I was trying to make myself cum Art." Patrick finally admits it. "Oh..." Patrick realises that Art didn't really know what he was meaning. There was an air in the room and the boys left it linger for a little too long.

"What were you thinking about?" Art asked shyly. Patrick huffed and thought about the question. "You know how we were watching the girls play today? Did you see how short the skirts were..." Patrick again was avoiding the question. "and when they grunt and their skirt swings up, you just see a bit of their ass." His voice was lower now as he put his back in his boxers, running his hands over his cock. Patrick omitted that he sometimes thinking about when Art was all sweaty and grunting. How he would like to make him moan like that. Art was slightly lost in Patricks words. "Did you even notice Art?" Art could hear the movement of fabric slowly as he moved himself. "I noticed." Art said quietly. "You don't get hard thinking about them? You don't think about them grunting taking your cock?" Art almost whined as Patrick said the words. Poor innocent Art hadn't thought about it and now, hearing Patrick say it, it's all he could think about. It hadn't even crossed Art's mind but now it was in there, he could feel his cock straining against his boxers. "You thinking about it now?" Patrick said slyly. "Are you touching yourself?" The room was pitch black and Patrick was listening to the little moans that Art was letting out. "No. I've never." Art got defensive, like Patrick was going to make fun of him for being dirty or a wanker and he would tell the rest of the class. "Do you not know how?" Patrick almost said sweetly, like he wanted to help.

"You need to be hard Art." Patrick started instructing him. "mhmm, I am." Art confessed. "Reach into your boxers and start feeling your length." Patrick continued and Art did as he was told. "Pull your skin back and forth Art, are you still thinking about those little tight skirts?" Art didn't say anything but he let himself moan slightly as he did/ "feels good when you go faster, think about them moaning on your cock Artie." Arts moans spurred Patrick on as he kept going. "Are you thinking about their tits bouncing when youre making them taking your cock." Art couldn't help himself as he played with his tip faster. "uh god, this feels really good." Patrick whined listening to Arts gasps and his ragged breath. "keep going." Patrick almost demanding as he also moaned softly. "Patrick, somethings..." Art could feel something in his stomach, like pressure, like he was full. "somethings.." he didn't say anything else. "I know, it's okay, keep going, faster." Patrick panted. "oh fuck yes, let it happen Art." Patrick increased the speed as he pulled on his cock. He couldn't think of anything else other than wishing his hand was around Art's cock. "It feels good, really fucking good." Art started to loose his ability to speak as he kept going. "I'm right with you, you're alright, you're gonna cum with me." Patrick tried to reassure him. "Faster." Patrick told him and he could hear the panting and moaning from Arts bed go faster as he did as he was told. "Tell me how good it feels." Patrick worked on himself faster at his own instructions. "fuck, it feels really good, fucking, fuck, it's coming, it's coming." Art couldn't help himself. Poor baby wasn't able to hold it, he didn't know what was coming, he just knew it was coming right now. He felt the liquid pour over his hand as Patrick kept going. Art grunted. Hard. Almost shrieking at the liquid flowing out of him. Patrick hearing the noise, knew he made his best friend cum for the first time and it send him over the edge. "fuck." Patrick groaned as he rushed to grab the sock beside the bed and finish in there. He filled it up and slightly opened his eyes. He was still lost in his imagination and hearing Art's groans.

"fuck, Patrick, what do I do now? I'm covered" Art kept holding his dick as it was covered in his own cum. Patricks dick twitched at the thought. "oh sorry, should have mentioned there should have been something near by to clean up..." Patrick said smugly. "you'll probably just need to shower now." Art panicked. "it's late, I can't just get up and shower." Art whined. "You'll just need to lie there like the dirty boy you are." Patrick poked fun at him for being inexperienced just as Art expected. Patrick shuffled a little and threw the box of tissues against the wall, in his general direction. "Here, you'll know for next time." Patrick immediately felt drowsy, going to sleep knowing how good he made his best friend feel.