#yes it's messy

[afriendlygoblin]

to celebrate the 3M tweets with the SaveWarriorNun tag, here’s a quick sketch i made last night of Bea

I love love love the idea of Bea getting a divinium tattoo so she knows when Ava’s near and well, a little divinium Halo seemed fitting

[t4llhum4n]

Dunno if we're still doing redactedsonas, but...

...here we go!

[unsung-idiot]

something something what goes around comes around

(i rewatched take back the falls and uh yeah... my hand slipped lol)

[machinerot]

[arttsuka]

So, @wolfythewitch 's gravity fowls au...

[murderandcoffee]

are we dragging isaac newton into the horrors now? was the apple that fell on him full of teeth?

[tbgkaru-woh]

The new generation leaders

[matimatti]

Griddling on my hark till I lobotomise

[almondpiglet]

just fooling around at the speed of sound... found a cool brush to play with...

[bunnieswithknives]

Dev this is serious stop beatboxing.

[linkvcr]

braids :]

idea from @arecaceae175 [ty :D]

[bullagit]

-- sue zhao

[serratedpens]

Kwame Boateng, "Sinnerman"

[lemontarto]

i bet on losing dogs (but you see, the winner takes it all)

[jesuistrestriste]

whispering in art’s ear, playing with his sensitive nipples, putting ur fingers in his mouth as u give him a reach-around while he’s sat on ur lap… ugh, the dream.

art’s bare back rests against your clothed chest, warm and slightly shaky, as your firm words keep his legs obediently spread apart.

“thaaat’s it, hon,” you purr into his ear, nodding, as your fingertips on both hands work to rub little teasing circles over his nipples, “good boy… it feels good, yeah?”

he squirms.

“mm—“ he whines out softly, and his head tips back against your shoulder, but he nods a little to appease you anyway.

his hands move to grip your ankles—the ones keeping his limbs caged in with yours—and he squeezes gently as he lets out a sharp moan and shudders forward. you watch his spine curl over.

“oh!” you smirk, leaning forward a bit to look down between his legs where his darkened boxers barely contain his arousal, “so cute.. you’re wet just like a girl, baby—“

art keens, his abdomen tensing and shaking as a heavy blurt of precome spills into the confines of the material, and he shakes his head.

“can i come?” he whispers breathlessly and desperately.

“nuh uh. not yet. i haven’t even started playing with you properly, you know that. what ever happened to slowing down and just enjoying the ride?” you tease, your hands slowly gliding down his abdomen.

he shakes his head.

“i gotta come, it hurts—“ he whimpers.

you sigh tiredly, but there’s no real anger or annoyance to it.

you just need him to learn when to shut his mouth. and if he won’t do it, you’ll do it for him.

“i’m getting sick all of this whining, art. now be good and open up,” you hum.

he obeys, no surprise there, and you reach your right hand up and gingerly slide your middle and ring finger over the soft, wet warmth of his tongue. he immediately moans and closes his eyes, his mouth working to envelop your digits as he suckles and drools around them helplessly like a starved puppy.

your left hand goes down into the front of his boxers and you wrap it around him as you feel him suck your fingers to the back of his throat.

“MM—! Mmmph—!” he whines loudly and pathetically, his hips arching up into your touch.

he licks and gasps and murmurs around your touch in his mouth like he’s worried you’ll pull away at any second, and your other hand starts to fist his cockhead wetly as his cries get louder, and louder, and louder, and louder—

“AHHMMPH—“ the blonde shakes in his seat between your legs, sticky saliva finally dripping down over his toned stomach as his jaw drops into a sinful ‘o’ and his blunt nails dig into your skin. you pull back your fingers from his mouth, and thick transparent strings of spit follow suit.

art doesn’t waste a second. he can’t.

“ohhh, can i come now..?” he breathes out urgently, like he’s one wrong move away from blowing his load before he can get your say-so, “can i please? oh god, please, i need to come, i wanna come for you—“

it’s hard not to give in when he looks like such a pathetic mess.

“fine,” you say gently, leaning in to kiss the side of his neck, “but i better hear how grateful you are. i wanna hear you say it when you feel it coming out, ‘kay?”

art braces himself, the suffocating flood of pleasure causing his limbs to lock up as he nods the best he can.

“ohh, my god, oh my god, oh my god, yes yes yes, i will, i will i— im— im about to—“

the first squirt of his orgasm catches him completely off-guard, and then he’s tumbling over the steep edge with a sharp sob; tears are spilling before he can blink them away, and the copious wetness suddenly seeping through his underwear and over your moving grasp can no longer be ignored.

“OHH! yes-ss-! i’m coming, i’m coming, i’m fucking cuhhminggh—!” he shudders out lowly and cries, “d-ohh, please, thank you, thank you, thank you thank you—!”

his body trembles against yours as he lets out a stupidly large amount of fluid, but you pump him through every wave till he’s slurring his words and telling you that he “can’t take it anymore” (he could, he can, he’s just a bit of a baby sometimes).

after he’s all spent and done, he tilts his head back and to the side so that he can kiss you, and he’s surprised when the warmth of your hand can no longer be felt against his tingling flesh. and then your tongue in his mouth is being replaced by your fingers that are absolutely covered in his spend.

on another day, maybe he’d feel a little odd about it, but you’ve lulled him into such a fucked-out headspace that he can’t help but start licking and sucking himself off of you.

after all, it’s just another way to show his appreciation for all that you do for him. all that you allow him to feel via your loving hands, and your loving mouth, and your loving hole(s).

“thank you,” he mumbles, his mouth thick and full of his own spit and come and your soft digits, but you understand him perfectly.

how could you not?