#this is hoooote as fuuuck

[mamawasatesttube]

38 for the dialogue prompt… maybe with some bart and kon?

also prompted by an anon!

38. "I'm going to be sick."

There are upsides to getting sent to New Orleans to deal with a surprise villain attack, starring Metallo. Like the pecan pralines from this one shop near the French Quarter that Wally has never shut up about since Bart's known him. Or the cajun fries. Or the beignets.

There are also downsides. Like the heat and the humidity. Seriously, how does anyone live down here? Running interference, and then helping with cleanup, has never been sweatier. Why'd that asshole have to damage so many buildings, anyway?

At least Café du Monde is still intact. Rob promised he'd buy everyone beignets and coffee when everything's settled, and Bart's gonna hold him to that.

...Except that right now, he kinda doesn't want to eat. Probably 'cuz it's so hot out. But it is kinda weird to not be hungry after a big battle.

Oh well. Shit needs doing, so shit's gotta get done, and Bart's gonna be a shit-doer. He chugs some tepid water from the bottle at his hip, grimaces as nausea pulses through his stomach, and starts to run again.

Five minutes later, his legs give out.

It comes as a shock: one moment he's moving some debris to free a couple trapped cars in an alleyway, and the next, his leg cramps up so bad that for a second he swears he's just gotten shot again, and he goes crashing to the ground before he even realizes he's falling.

What the fuck?!

Sweaty, exhausted, nauseous, in pain, and miserable, Bart gives up. Something's wrong, but he can't figure out what. Someone else can handle that; he digs his thumbs into the meat of his calf and whines, "Kooooon..."

A whoosh of air and a red, blue, and black blur drop out of the sky almost instantly. Kon, damn his Kryptonian genes, isn't sweating at all; his cyan gaze pierces right through Bart as he drops to his knees next to him. "Imp! What's the matter?"

Bart groans, stomach churning. His leg still hurts like a bitch. "I think," he says, "I'm gonna be sick." He whines again.

Kon's eyes widen. He reaches for Bart's shoulders to help him sit up, then hisses. "Shit, dude, you're burning up! Have you had any water?"

Bart nods miserably. Now why the hell is he shivering? That seems wrong. Uuugghhh, he's so nauseous. "Jus' a minute ago. Made me feel more sick. I don't think water's supposed to do that. It's just so fucking hoooot..."

"Oh, man. Okay. I think you're overheating, buddy." Kon exhales slowly; the air he blows out over Bart's face is blessedly cool, and Bart almost topples over from his precarious sitting position just trying to lean further into it. "Yup, okay. Gotta get you somewhere cooler."

"But... the cleanup," Bart balks.

"Dude." Kon gives him a disappointed look—aw, beans, that's his disappointed Ma Kent look. Bart would squirm under his gaze, if he wasn't so close to puking. "It's, like, literally a hundred and ten degrees out, and super humid, and you've always run hot even without strenuous shit like a villain fight. Muscle cramps? Nausea? Feeling faint? Classic symptoms of heat exhaustion."

As he speaks, he gathers Bart up in his arms; Bart whines again, just to reiterate that this sucks balls, but then a tendril of TTK works its way along his cramping leg and presses in against his aching muscle just right, and he shuts up instantly. Fuuuck, that feels good.

"What are you?" he mumbles, a full second or two late. "WebMD? Why do you know all that off the top of your head?"

Kon snorts. He blows cool air against Bart's sticky forehead again, rising into the air in a smooth arc (Bart appreciates that, because neither of them would have a good time if he emptied his stomach all over them both mid-flight). "Imp, c'mon. They programmed field medicine into my head back in the tube, man."

"Oh." Bart huffs. "That makes sense." He lets his head loll against Kon's shoulder as Kon picks up speed; the Mississippi River sparkles in the sun far below. "Where're we going?"

"Back to base," Kon answers. The air up here is cooler; Bart sighs in relief. "You're gonna sit in a cool shower, and I'm getting you some Gatorade."

Kon's always so good at taking care of him, Bart thinks. His leg already feels way better. Of course, he can't just say that normally. "Okay, mom."

Kon scoffs. "Excuse me for being a good friend who worries about you!"

"You're excused," Bart assures him, closing his eyes.

For a few moments, the whistling of the wind is the only sound. Then Bart heaves a massive sigh.

"Hey, Kon?"

"Yeah, bud?"

"I still want beignets later. Can you make sure Rob remembers?"

Kon's rumble of laughter reverberates through his chest as the clouds pass them by. "Yeah, Imp," he promises. "I'll be sure to let him know."

[shamefultea]

How about you let me tie you to a chair, filling you with all that greasy food, these burgers, fries, tacos and soda. Make you miserable and reminding you how much of a hog you are while I massage your belly to help you make some room for another round of burgers and another liter of coke. All the while I'm watching your stomach expand and your belly stretch to grotesque proportions while you're hardly breathing. It's not over yet though, as I pour liters of melted sundae into the funnel that you swallow gulp after gulp and add up to that already stretching tummy. When all the food is gone, I'm pushing my head against your belly while my hands are at it helping you giving to another type of pleasure... When your belly is finally full and you moaned your the ultimate pleasure I could give you, we switch roles and tie me to the same chair. You give me bite after bite, pressing your gurgling tummy against my head because your arms are now a bit to small to reach my mouth otherwise, allowing me to listen to all the food I poured in that greedy stomach digest and adding up pounds to this little flab that was already present. When it's funnel time, you simply sit on my lap, pour this melted sundae in my already stretched belly while I can't do anything about it but try to swallow all this, hurting my already full stomach with every gulp. Then, your turn massage my belly and passionately kiss me between each bite of chessecake you give me, the massage letting me make some room between each kiss and bite.

omg fuck this is too good I need that...

Having to go back on feeder duties while bloated and overfed? I'd be such a tired mess... But so horny with a beach ball gut heavy as an anvil.

Please let me know so much more of your plans, this is so so so hoooot... The mental image of being overstuffed while the one responsible listens to my gurgly gut and pleasure me with their hands... Fuuuck yes I'd be such a needy docile girl with a stuffed tummy, someone getting me off would be so... Omg I NEED that in my LIFE aaa

[yanderepuck]

@spoopy-fish-writes I also need you to know that Radu be dressing like this

He loves a puffy shirt best combo. Bitch does not dress like he is a King. HE DRESSES LIKE A NORMAL DUDE.

But it's very important to know he dresses like this and is always rolling up his sleeves and eventually Nicoleta is like "fuuuck. He's hoooot." And just wants to to that stupid vest off him and then rip those buttons right off that shirt.

[yukiyamato]

(batman was singing and dancing around the user's vlog) Some men here are cuuute, some men here are stroooong, some of which here are hoooot, some who I want to fuuuck, but I need to choose only oooone, yet all of them are hoooot, but I want that aaaass, but I need choose only oooone.(Hello mr/ms artist, I love your characters and your art)

(But for real! Thank you so much for like what I do //D That means a lot to me!)