#I can’t draw the and i feel like such a failure

[nexternalknowsthingz]

Just threw away a drawing that took me an hour because my head made me think it was ugly and now I severely regret that decision, how’s your day going?

[cherrysnax]

i see so many people starting their own projects and it makes me so happy but so angry at myself at the same time

[arolesbianism]

Time for more eternal gales isat au, this time featuring Sier as Isabeau, creating a sprite I can never use next to Aris’ because despite my best efforts it would make them look tall

[iwaasfairy]

i hate getting any kind of art envy because it just comes up without any warning and sits on my brain just taunting me to do smt

[moonknightproductions]

never trust how you feel after 9 pm.

[citricacidprince]

Could you draw that "I trust you" scene with Mabel and Stan but with the relativity AU? (The stan twins and pine twins swap ages au)

OF COURSE, I WILL GLADLY DRAW THEM!!! 💥💥💥

I’m gonna post a long winded thesis about my thoughts on this AU, my take on the AU, and two additional arts under the cut because ooooh boy it’s a tad bit long lol. Also, please please forgive the formatting, I’m writing this all on the fly and it’s extremely disjointed, sorry- 💥

I know there’s the ‘canon’ Relativity AU designs and character dynamics, however I don’t really like them that much ngl. I feel like it mostly just ends up with ‘Mabel and Dipper get switched with Stan and Ford with no nuances once so ever’ and that BLOWS!!! There’s so much potential there and no one is playing with it!! YOU GUYS DON’T EVEN HAVE MABEL PRETENDING TO BE DIPPER, WHATS THE POINT????

Not only that but I feel like making Dipper and Mabel’s dynamic just Ford and Stan’s when they’re adults is a HUGE simplification of their characters. Like, Mabel and Dipper fight, but they don’t fight like Stan and Ford, they’re not as hard headed and stubborn. Mabel would commit some crimes yes, but I don’t believe she would get into some of the heavy shit Stan had in his past. I refuse to believe Mr. Dipper ‘Undiagnosed Anxiety Disorder’ Pines would fall for Bill’s flattery as easily as Ford did.

The Pines Twins are very different from the Mystery Twins. Mabel and Dipper didn’t grow up with a father constantly comparing the two and pinning them against each other, outright telling one kid they’ll always be a failure while the other is going to have the burden of making their family rich. They never had that tension. They wouldn’t be walking on eggshells around eachother as adults.

I know that makes the concept sound boring to some, ‘Where’s the fun in the AU if you take away the sibling fighting’. You cowards, you can still have it, young Stan and Ford are RIGHT THERE. During the second half of the show when Dipper comes back through the portal, instead of having the older set of twins, something that doesn’t male sense with their characters, have a building tension that’s going to explode soon and keep it between Stan and Ford, don’t take it away from them. If anything, I think taking away the resentment and anger growing between the two and giving it to Mabel and Dipped is a butchering of all the characters.

Sure that means some of the episodes would have to change or be completely erased, but that’s fine!!! Make up some new ones!!! Get silly with it!!!

Mabel and Dipper talk about feelings, Stan and Ford don’t. Mabel and Dipper can’t stay mad at each other, Stan and Ford will try and stay mad for decades because being angry is easier than being upset.

In my idea of this AU that fight at the end of Weirdmageddon HAS to be between Stan and Ford, and Stan HAS to still be the one getting his memories erased.

💥 Post Not-What-He-Seems Relativity AU Rambling Below 💥

Dipper is a paranoid man, fool him once you’re never going to fool him again. He would never in a million years ever work with Bill again. Ford however is an extremely lonely child, both he and his brother are desperate for any type of positive attention. I think Bill would see him as a potential protege, especially since Ford is a ‘freak’ like he is and the kid is extremely smart for his age. He’s malleable, Bill probably thinks he could shape him uo to be the perfect lackey.

Ford, being the lonely kid he is, probably does fall for the praise initially. He craves attention and Bill pushes all the right buttons and says all the right words, tries and gains his trust even if time has proven again and again that he shouldn’t be trusting the demon.

The tension between the Stan Twins would grow after Grunkle Dipper comes back because Ford is upset that Stan didn’t listen to him (even if it was for the best that he did) and that Grunkle Dipper forgave Graunty Mabel so easily because if Ford was in those shoes he wouldn’t have. It grows more and more as Ford becomes distant and Stan tries to connect with his brother to no avail. Which, of course, comes to a boiling point when Ford says he’s going to stay in Gravity Falls and learn under Grunkle Dipper. Stan is rightfully upset. He can’t go back to New Jersey by himself. It’s always just been the two of them, he needed Ford, he couldn’t handle school or their father by himself. He can’t be alone.

Unlike Mabel who just wanted one more day of summer, Stan wishes that he wouldn’t be alone, which indirectly causes Weirdmaggendon.

Stan’s prison bubble would probably be a fake New Jersey-esc town full of a bunch of little Stans running around. Town O’ Stan. A place where no Stan is left behind.

Ford says some nice words to Stan there to get him outta there but there is still this intense tension between the two.

During the Cipher Wheel Ford is the one who tackles Stan. The two fight, whining out hurtful words neither of them mean and only stop when Bill shows up and captures them. Graunty Mabel and Grunkle Dipper run off and distract Cipher in hopes that they can keep the attention on themselves long enough that their great nephews could come up with a plan to escape.

The younger twins don’t find a way out and instead, finally, have an actual talk about their feelings, one that definitely ends up in tears as the two talk about the pressure that’s put on them or how worthless they feel. After that the boys get a rush of determination to escape when Stanley has a plan. Ford immediately hates the plan but Stan insists that they do it, in his own words, ‘Let me prove I can do something right for once.’

When Bill comes back and threatens to kill either Mabel or Dipper just for the hell of it, Ford calls out that he’d like to make a deal.

He wants to work with Bill, let Bill into his mind willingly. Bill immediately jumps on that offer. Ford is a promising young kid, perfect henchmaniac potential, not to mention it would absolutely devastate Dipper is his great nephew willingly turned to Bill’s side.

He goes into Ford’s head, revealing Stanley just in time to reveal that he was trapped, panicking as he was erased with a swift left-hook along with a kid who was happy to prove he was good for something after all.

Everyone was devastated after Weirdmaggedon of course, a child had his mind completely wiped. Stanford took it the worst, he just managed to finally break down those words that others built in his head, that he was too good for Stanley or that he didn’t need a knucklehead like him dumbing down his brain, and now his brother was gone. Just like that.

We all know what happens after this, Stan gets his memory back, everyone celebrates and the Stan twins are sent home, promising each other that they’ll never let anyone try and tear them apart ever again. Dipper and Mabel stay at the shack, after all, all they could ever want is there, where else could they possibly go?

Sorry this was… extremely rambly and long, I am extremely tired and can’t think straight I have a bunch more ideas and concepts so if anyone’s desperately wants to hear them just ask I guess, sorry you read this dumb of ass essay haha 💥

[vemathie]

warnings: smut (mdni), rough sex, overstimulation, bodily fluids (sweat, cum, tears), g!p, breast play, veryyy messy, fem!reader.

“come on,” caitlyn groans, her head pressed against the pillow, forehead glistening with sweat that's dripping down her entire overheated body. she's trying to sound firm, but it's a total failure the second you obey—rolling your hips forward—and her long, ragged moan rips out.

“cait…” you mumble against her chest, your cheek just as sticky and damp as hers, legs trembling like they're seconds from giving out. but she's got you locked down—her arms wrapped tight. she won't let you pull her cock out, because that would mean she'd lose the unbearable closeness of being buried inside the warmth of your pussy.

god, she gets so embarrassingly soft when her brain is fucked stupid from too many orgasms—so sugary and clingy that her usual self would look at her like she'd grown a second head.

she’s got no patience when your movements falter. her hands clamp down on your ass, squeezing and dragging you back to grind into her, all the way down. and fuck, you're taking her so deep that it's obscene. she could die like this—just die, balls-deep in you—and it'd be a goddamn perfect way to go.

“i said, keep going,” she snarls, punctuating her command with a sharp spank. the sound ricochets through the room, followed by a broken, high-pitched whimper you can’t swallow down. caitlyn's lips twitch into a shaky grin.

her eyes trail down as you lift your chest off hers, planting your hands firmly just under her breasts. her gaze flicks from your flushed face to the way your chest heaves, nipples tight and glistening. she can't stop staring. she won't stop staring.

that sweet little frown you always make when you're overwhelmed drives her crazy. she loves pushing you to your limit. watching you throw your head back, biting your lip like it'll somehow hold the noises—but it doesn’t. the drawn-out moan you let out when you start bouncing on her cock again drives her fucking insane.

her hips buck up like a reflex, and she nearly spills right there, teeth sinking into her bottom lip so hard it almost draws blood. she can’t keep up—wasn’t ready for you to get your second wind, for you to start fucking her like that.

“ha-ah,” she pants, her hand flies up, grabbing your tit. fingers kneading and rolling, desperate to find any sort of the lost grounding that left her hazy.

she’s trying to hold back, but you’re relentless. and when you moan her name—cait!—like it’s the only thing on your mind. her attention snaps right back to you. your mouth is open, gasping and begging, but your body isn’t slowing down. in fact, your pussy is clenching around her, pulling her in deeper, wetter, hotter.

“wasn't so hard, was it?” she rasps, breathless and teasing. not even sure you can hear her with the way your hips slam down on hers. the slap of your ass against her thighs, the sticky mix of both your cum smeared everywhere—it’s filthy. a disgusting, beautiful, filthy mess. and it makes her cock ache, her balls tightening almost painfully. “doing so good.”

she can already tell you're not lasting longer than this, and she has to enjoy the moments where she has you here, lucid.

“i—i can't—” caitlyn sees it—the moment your body seizes, your moans climbing into a scream as you cum again, your pussy clamping down hard and gushing around her. it’s like your body is trying to milk her dry.

“please, cait… please, cum,” you beg into her chest, mouth latching onto her breast, sucking with a hunger that feels almost desperate. “can't—can't take it anymore.”

your pussy clenches her cock, and she's not patient enough to play around anymore. her feet plants against the mattress as her hips surge up, thrusting into you—with a ferocity that makes the bed creak and groan like it’s about to snap in half. the sharp slap of skin against skin fills the room, drowning out your whimpers, your begging—please, cait, I can’t— but she’s not listening.

she’s drunk on the feeling of your walls fluttering and squeezing her cock. every thrust punches the air out of your lungs, your body limp against hers, but she doesn’t care. her nails dig into your sweat-slick skin as she uses your body like it’s hers. because it is.

“that's it,” she growls, her head thrown back against the pillow. “take it. just—fuck, take it.” her cock hitting so deep you swear you can feel it in your throat. she doesn’t give you a second to breathe, doesn’t ease up even as you sob into her neck, tears and spit smearing against her skin.

her whole body tenses, muscles locking as she slams you down, grinding deep as her cock throbs, spilling into you in hot, thick waves. it’s too much, spilling out around her before she even finishes.

her thrusts turn slow, shallow and lazy, as she rides out her orgasm, panting against your ear, her hands trembling against your hips. “good girl,” she whispers, her voice wrecked and low, pressing a kiss to your temple. and you're begging in your mind that she doesn't want to have another round.

[sofiatarot]

Pick a card: Messages from loved ones watching over you

TIP JAR - FREE READINGS - PAID READINGS

1->2

3->4

Not long ago, I lost someone I loved deeply... someone who had been with me for many years. When their spirit decided to leave their body, I was devastated, desperate to hear something from them. I missed them so much and searched for comfort, but I couldn’t find it anywhere. Nothing felt like them.

It was then, in the midst of the storm, that I decided to quiet myself, to stay still and listen to my own intuition. Using the cards as a tool, a guide, I was able to connect with the love I had been yearning for and more grateful than ever, I decided to try and share this little piece of heaven I had accessed.

When I connected with them, I thought about others who, like me, feel they lack closure and are left with their hearts in their hands and so much love to give.

To anyone who needs it, as much as I did back then, here it is: messages from a loved one who has passed away.

With all the respect and love in the world, I hope you know that you are not, and will never be, alone.

Now, take a moment to just breathe, ground yourself, connect to your intuition and choose the group that draws you in the most.

Group 1

Your loved one speaks to the uncertainty you've been feeling lately. They see the fear that clouds your path and the questions you hesitate to ask yourself. Their message is this: trust your inner wisdom. You’ve always had the answers within, even if they feel obscured by doubt. There’s a quiet strength in stepping away from situations that no longer serve you, even if it feels like leaving behind a part of yourself.

This soul was someone wise in life, perhaps introspective or spiritual, and they want you to know that moments of confusion and hesitation are natural. They encourage you to embrace the unknown, as clarity comes not from rushing forward but from allowing the truth to reveal itself in time. Don’t fear the fog—it’s temporary.

They see the decisions you’re grappling with and urge you not to overthink. Choices made from the heart will always guide you to the right path. You may feel pulled in multiple directions, but balance is key. Release the fear of failure; every twist of fate is a lesson in disguise.

This soul wants to remind you that you’re not walking this journey alone. They’ve seen the moments where you felt stuck, as though life was spinning out of your control. Even in those times, they were quietly supporting you, nudging you toward growth. You are more adaptable than you give yourself credit for.

They encourage you to release the need for perfection. Allow yourself to take bold steps without fearing judgment. You’ve been watching and waiting for the right moment, but sometimes action is the only way forward. They promise that courage will lead to clarity.

Above all, they want you to know that peace is within reach. They send you love and patience as you navigate this period. Trust that the tides will turn in your favor, and know they are proud of your strength and resilience.

Group 2

Your loved one sees the challenges you’ve faced in maintaining harmony with those around you. They know you’ve been giving much of yourself, sometimes to the point of exhaustion. Their message is simple: give as much love and care to yourself as you give to others. You can’t pour from an empty cup.

This soul had a steady, grounded energy in life. They might have been someone you relied on for wisdom or practicality. They encourage you to find a balance between giving and receiving. It’s okay to ask for help or to say no when your energy feels depleted. They remind you that boundaries are not barriers—they are acts of self-love.

You may feel stuck, as though a new beginning keeps slipping from your grasp. They urge you to release the frustration and surrender to the timing of the universe. Sometimes, the things we want most require patience. Trust that your path is unfolding as it should.

This soul has noticed your efforts to resolve conflict, whether internally or with others. They see the peace you’re trying to create and applaud your willingness to choose understanding over anger. Keep trusting in the power of compassion—it will lead you to lighter days.

They also ask you to let go of perfectionism. There’s no need to carry the weight of comparison or feel like you’re falling behind. You are exactly where you’re meant to be. Focus on the small steps and celebrate every victory, no matter how small.

Finally, they want you to know that they’re proud of the person you’re becoming. They see the strength it takes to keep going, even when the road feels uphill. You are never alone; their energy is with you every step of the way.

Group 3

Your loved one acknowledges the emotional turmoil you’ve been navigating. They know you’ve been questioning your choices, especially in matters of the heart. Their message is this: be kind to yourself. You’re learning, and every step you take—no matter how uncertain—is leading you toward a deeper understanding of yourself.

This soul feels like someone passionate and bold, someone who wasn’t afraid to live fully. They want you to embrace that same boldness. Don’t let fear of judgment or failure keep you from pursuing what sets your soul on fire. You have so much potential waiting to be unleashed.

They see the moments when you’ve felt trapped, whether by your own expectations or by the opinions of others. You have the power to break free, but it starts with letting go of the need for external validation. Trust your intuition and take control of your destiny.

This soul knows you’ve been carrying old wounds, especially from relationships. They urge you to forgive—not for the sake of others, but for your own healing. You deserve to move forward without the weight of the past holding you down.

They remind you to nurture yourself. You’ve been giving so much energy to growth and transformation, but don’t forget to rest. Balance is essential, and true change comes when you honor both your light and shadow.

Above all, they want you to know that you’re loved—by them, by the universe, and by those around you. Your journey is far from over, and they’re excited to see the incredible things you will create.

Group 4

Your loved one sees the loneliness you’ve been feeling, even when surrounded by others. Their message is this: you are never truly alone. They are with you in the quiet moments, in the small signs you notice—a song, a scent, a memory. Trust that their love remains with you, even if you can’t see them.

This soul feels like someone joyful and warm, someone who brought laughter and light to those around them. They want you to reconnect with your inner joy. Life doesn’t have to be so serious—let yourself celebrate the little things and find beauty in the everyday.

They see the walls you’ve been building around your heart, out of fear of being hurt again. They urge you to let those walls down, even if just a little. Vulnerability isn’t weakness; it’s where true connection begins. You have so much love to give, and the right people will cherish it.

This soul knows you’ve been feeling stuck, as though your plans aren’t coming together the way you hoped. They encourage you to trust in divine timing. The delays you’re experiencing are not failures—they’re redirections toward something even better.

They also remind you to lean on your community. You don’t have to face everything on your own. There are people who want to support you, but you need to let them in. Don’t be afraid to ask for help... it’s a sign of strength, not weakness.

Finally, they want you to remember that life is a journey, not a race. Be gentle with yourself and take things one step at a time. They’re cheering you on from the other side, proud of every bit of progress you’ve made.

thank you, xoxo 💖

[alwaysanundertone]

Love can be overwhelming | poly! marauders x fem reader

angst / fluff

word count: 1.2 k words

CW: mention of an abusive household

TW: panic attack, it’s not a super detailed scene but it takes up like 1/3 of the fic 🩷

tag list: @staarflowerr @liviessun @reggieswriter @call-me-mishi @moonyxoxo @jaguarthecat @queerndepressed @kerst666 @delusional-4-fake-people @twilightlover2007

part 1 , part 2 , part 3

Unfortunately, you couldn’t ignore your feelings forever, and you had to learn it in the hard way.

You were feeling slightly anxious, but it wasn’t something you weren’t used to, so you just shoved everything down like you always did and started studying. Ten minutes in, your hands were slightly shaking, but still you brushed it off, until it became so bad you hit your ink bottle, spilling the black liquid all over your papers.  

Suddenly you were in your old room, sat at your little pink desk, staring at the mess in front of you, the tears flowing freely at the prospect of having ruined all of your drawings, while your mother was screaming  at you for being so emotional; to her eyes your emotions were a burden, something to be ashamed of, if you cried you were considered a failure. Pretending to be heartless wasn’t really a choice growing up, more like a way to survive.

Your breath became laboured, suddenly the walls of your room were closing on you, and there wasn’t anything you could do about it. Your hands were now violently shaking, your heart galloping in your chest: you felt a sharp pain to your chest. You tried calling for someone, anyone, but your voice came out as a whisper. This was the first time something like this happened, your symptoms were just like the ones that people describe before having an heart attack: this didn’t help your anxious state, at all. 

You saw through blurry eyes Dorcas and Marlene by the door, their mood rapidly shifting, Cas rushing to you while the other one ran out of your dorm, and you could just feel grateful for being found.  

“Heart… attack, Cas” She shook her head. “Honey, I think it’s a panic attack. Come on, breathe.”

You didn’t even realize that you were holding your breath, maybe that’s why your head started feeling lighter. You inhaled sharply, mimicking Dorcas, who was now holding one of your hands on her chest, encouraging you to follow her movements.

Little by little, you felt your heart beating a little bit slower, your hands now only trembling slightly. After a while, Cas stopped exaggerating her breaths, and you fell in an uncomfortable silence. “Listen, Y/N, we have to go to the infirmary.” You started to protest, but she shushed you. “We have to, okay? You have to talk to a doctor about this, I think it was just a panic attack, but we can’t be too sure. Marlene’s waiting for us, let’s go”

You laid on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Madame Pomfrey told the girls to leave, you had to rest, but now you were feeling even more anxious: you thought about all the studying you were missing on to stare at the ceiling. It was pointless, she confirmed it was a panic attack, so what? You couldn’t spend the whole weekend on a hospital bed for it.

You stopped your sulking abruptly, seeing some type of movement in your peripheral vision.  It was slight, so much so that you thought you had imagined it, but then James’s head pop out of nowhere, making you nearly scream.

“Love, we have to talk, but we can’t do it here. So, crawl to me, we’re going to escape” Despite the fight you had, you couldn’t help but giggle slightly, doing as you were told. Once you were both under the invisibility cloak, staring into each other eyes, James sighed slightly, releasing a sigh. “Darling, we’re so, so sorry you have no idea how much. Dorcas told us you had a panic attack, we know we caused it” He kissed your forehead, making you melt under his touch. “The others are waiting for us, let’s go”

So, you followed him, paying extra attention to not make any noise. As soon as you stepped foot in the astronomy tower, Sirius ran to you, hugging you close to his chest. You stayed like that for a while, until you felt him sniffle: looking up to his eyes, they were puffy and red. “Angel, I am an awful boyfriend” You were about to contradict him, but he kept talking. “You had a panic attack and it was all my fault, if you want to break up, you’re totally right: I’ll leave, I shouldn’t have told you all of those things, you are the love of my life, and I messed everything up like I always do, I’m such a shitty-“

You slapped his face slightly, making him startle, then proceeded to kiss him. He melted under your touch, his hands found their way to your waist, holding you impossibly close to him.

After a while, you sighed, pulling yourself away from his embrace. “It wasn’t completely your fault, you know. I haven’t told you this yet, well, maybe I wasn’t even planning to, but I owe you an explanation. My parents weren’t… the best, and I’ve always been emotional. I know it might sound strange, but I cried literally at everything, and they used to shout at me for being weak. So, I had to build some type of armour, you know?” You took a deep breath, smiling despite the sharp pain you felt every time you talked about it, and the knot that made talking feel impossible. “It hurts to think about it, you know?”

“You don’t have to talk about it, we get it. It’s just- Why didn’t you tell us sooner? It’s nothing to be ashamed of, we would have been more careful” James looked at you like his heart just broke.

“I know, I should have, but I didn’t want to be a burden. Sirius receives those stupid letters every month, what I went through is nothing compared to what his family does to this day. My mother hasn’t reached out in what? Three years? It’s not a problem anymore, I just get overwhelmed sometimes”

Remus was frowning, but it was Sirius to talk. “Listen, just because they aren’t there to belittle you every chance they get, doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt you; these things are hard to get rid of, and I know this better than anyone else. Your body remembers what they told you, and you have to face that, but you don’t have to do it alone, understood? You can talk to us, you can tell us what you need, and we will do it for you, because we love you, and we’ll always be there for you”

You didn’t know if it was Sirius’s words or the fact that for the first time, you felt like you were being listened to, but as soon as the long-haired guy stopped talking you started crying like you hadn’t cried in a long time, your chest heaving. Your inner child was just now understanding that her feeling had always been valid, that she had never been too much.

“Love, what happened, please talk to us?” James voice sounded close to crying, but you just smiled through the tears, shaking your head.

“I-“ You stopped, clearing your throat. “I finally feel seen”

And as they crowded on you, hugging you close to their chest, you knew you’d be alright.

THIS IS THE LAST PART! IF YOU HAVE SOME REQUESTS SEND THEM 👯‍♀️💓

[clitorphosis]

A lil drabble about re4r Leon ugh…>.<

Tw: stalking :3

What about being a creep but to re4r Leon. Setting cameras in his room to watch him jerking off all alone, taking away his private time. Maybe unfortunately for you, he would notice those little lenses directed to him after some time, he isn’t blind after all. But unlike a normal person, Leon wouldn’t rush to remove them, leaving them on the same place, living like nothing happened and everything is okay, but now the thought of you watching him pumping his dick is drilled in the back of his head. :3

You are his reminder that he isn’t alone in seemingly lonely apartment :3 Leon is pent up, like really and he is lonely. He is probably the kind of man that yearns for deep connections with someone. Really, so your company feels natural and obsession to watch him feels healing too. Like, wow someone still wants me!! That someone wants me so much they set cameras in my apartment! Wow! I am not the lost man after all!

But also it makes him harder than ever. And horny. God he would kill to have you here, but he lives on the phantasy of what may happen if his hands get to you. Now, the only thing he can offer is making a little special show for you, with the best angle he can proved too! - tugging out his hard cock, you can see beads of precum are already leaking out of his hardened and red tip. Leon uses it as a lube, his hand draws slowly over his cock, every stroke smears it across his hard cock and more moans would slip out of him, more than before. Pretty and needy, you have imagined them exactly like that. At the beginning, his moan were intentional, girls like listening to men’s moans, right? But now he can’t keep himself silent cause torturing himself ‘in front of’ you makes his orgasm intense, heightening his pleasure. Addicting. For you too. But there are also other kind of cams :3 if you set other cameras, the ones with mic to control and order him around - it is even better for you both cause his pleasure is in your hands. Keeping him at the edge while susurating sweet-sweet things while he can’t even make any other noise than whimpers: “what a good boy”, “good boys get rewarded, you want it? Want to cum, right?”. And Leon would erratically nod to your words. Of course he wants to cum, he needs it.

How beads of sweat form on his muscular body, how his dick strains and twitches in the air before his hand grips it - the sight is sweet, making you aroused too and you can’t avert your gaze. His head is thrown back cause of the pleasure kicking in his blood and making him drunk on it. What an addicting sight - how his stomach tenses and his low moans due to his approaching orgasm. Some days it is so easy to cum, not even five minutes into that little show for you and his cock is already shooting a load of his sperm, painting his abs with it and cheeks flashed with redness - ashamed of his own failure. He doesn’t know you like him pathetic.

[rockspider556]

Batfam Headcanon #1

So Bruce Wayne gets injured—badly enough that he can’t just limp back to the Batcave with Alfred threatening to sedate him whilst yelling about self-care. No, this time the doctors insist he stay at the hospital. Superman and Wonder Woman, thinking they’re his only friends, decide to visit.

When they ask for Bruce’s room number at front desk, the nurse just looks at them and says, “there’s more of you?!”

They exchange deeply confused but mildly concerned glances before heading to the room. Clark, because he’s Clark, peeks inside with his X-ray vision and immediately stops in his tracks.

Diana frowns. “What’s wrong?”

Clark whispers, “There’s, uh… eight people in there.”

Diana’s eyebrows knit together. “Eight? More than Alfred?”

Clark just gestures for her to look, so they walk in—only to be greeted by absolute anarchy.

Bruce is in bed, looking murderously annoyed but utterly incapable of escaping, because there’s a riot happening around him.

Dick is perched on the bed’s edge, grinning as he tries to convince Bruce to eat his horrifically over-baked “Get Well Soon” cookies. (“C’mon, B, they’ve got sentimental value! You can’t taste failure; you can only feel love.”)

Tim and Damian are engaged full-blown war over Uno rules, with Bruce’s lap being used as their playing surface. Damian is glaring daggers while Tim smugly draws a card. (“‘Draw Four’ is illegal there, you demon.” “You’re just bitter because you’re losing, Drake!”)

Jason is standing at the foot of his bed, loudly reading Bruce’s medical chart like it’s a stand-up routine. (“Oh, wow, Bruce. Says here you’re allergic to rest. Oh, and look—‘Patient struggles with a superiority complex and a martyr complex, both incurable.’ Fascinating”)

Steph is perched on the edge of Bruce’s bed, enthusiastically eating his hospital pudding while loudly complaining about how terrible it is. (“Honestly, B, are you sure you can’t get discharged? This food is a human rights violation.”)

Barbara is sitting at the head of Bruce’s bed, her tablet perched on her lap. She’s rewired the hospital TV so it’s running security footage from the Watchtower.

Cass is perched on the arm of Barbara’s chair, alternating between watching the Uno chaos and holding up handmade cards she’s brought for Bruce. Each one has a single-word message, like REST or STOP DYING, in bold marker and glitter. Every time Bruce sighs too loudly, she silently holds up another one that says, DRINK WATER.

Duke is sitting next to Bruce, smiling mildly, scrolling through his phone. He’s the only one looking like he’s got some semblance of peace in his life.

Alfred is standing against the wall, arms folded behind his back, the epitome of British disapproval. He’s wearing his usual long-suffering yet fond expression.

Clark and Diana stand in the doorway, completely frozen.

Diana finally breaks the silence. “He… has children?”

“No,” Clark says slowly, taking in the chaotic scene. “He has a cult.”

In the middle of all this, Bruce catches their stunned expressions and deadpans, “Don’t. Ask.”

Dick waves at them cheerfully. “Oh, hey! You must be Bruce’s work friends!”

Clark and Diana end up staying, more out of morbid curiosity than anything else. By the time they leave, Diana is still trying to understand how Bruce hides an entire army of chaos gremlins under the radar, while Clark is absolutely delighted at the opertunity to mock Mr “I work alone”

Because of course the Dark Knight is actually just an overworked single dad with a very noisy household.

[freelancearsonist]

hunger

➔ Lucy MacLean (Fallout) x AFAB!Reader

➔ 0.8k words

➔ You teach your best friend something new.

➔ Rated MA // oral (reader receiving), a little bit of internalized homophobia, reader is afab (female anatomy, no pronouns used), two (2) okie dokies

➔ This happened bc @ozarkthedog challenged me to write some lucy porn with no plot (thank you my love <3) i have this condition where i can't write anything less than 1k so i was shook this came to me so easily hopefully it doesn't suck fjsfjslfjs

“I’ve never…”

“We don’t have to,” you quickly counter. The last thing you want to do is pressure Lucy into new territory.

She looks up at you from her position against the pillows with the biggest, prettiest brown eyes you’ve ever seen. “I want to,” she says with an earnest nod that sends her long hair out around her head like a dark halo. “I really want to.”

“Okay.”

This goes against everything you’ve been taught since the two of you were kids. Sex is for reproduction, not pleasure. It’s nothing more than goal-based. It’s all bullshit, of course, and you’ve never been quiet about your thoughts on that–much to the quiet chagrin of the leadership. You hadn’t realized until recently, though, that your childhood best friend feels the same way.

In a flash she’s got you trapped in her arms so she can roll on top of you, drawing a surprised gasp from your lips at the quick flip. She’s a lot stronger than she looks.

“I’ve never been on this side,” she murmurs, breath warm against your neck. “You’re gonna have to show me what to do.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and at first no words come. How long have you wanted to be in this exact position with this exact girl? How could words even hope to convey all the thoughts rushing through your brain right now? “I can do that.”

“Okie dokie.”

Her lips are so soft. There’s a heady contrast between her firm grip on your hips and the feather-light way she makes her way down the expanse of your stomach. There’s confidence in everything Lucy Maclean does, but she looks up at you now as she kisses your hip and there’s nerves swirling in those chocolate brown irises. Underneath her self-assuredness, there’s always been a fear of failure. It’s something you’ve comforted her through a lot over the years.

“Do I just… go for it?”

You can’t help smiling at that wide-eyed eagerness to learn and to please. “You know what feels good to you?”

She nods, fingers unconsciously massaging your spread thighs. She’s already so good at this without even realizing it.

“Start with that, and we’ll go from there.”

She nods again, and that look crosses her face. It’s one you’ve been familiar with since you were both in velcro shoes–sheer determination, resolution to rise to a challenge. You’ve always admired that look. Lucy “never backs down” MacLean is a badass, and you’re lucky to call her your best friend.

She starts with light little kitten licks to your clit, whining as her hips shift to grind against the mattress from your taste alone. She’s a little light on the pressure but you moan anyway to show her she’s on the right track. “That’s it baby, a little harder…”

“I won’t hurt you?”

Your hand comes down to cup her cheek, silently reassuring. “No, honey, you can be rough with it. Feels so good.”

She’s always taken constructive criticism in stride–she pulls away for just a moment to readjust her grip on your spread thighs, and then she returns with vigor. This time, when she seals her lips around your clit and sucks, your moan isn’t even remotely fabricated.

“Like that?” She asks, a proud smile flickering at the corners of her lips as she lets her tongue trail down to taste you properly.

“Yeah, Lucy, fuck.”

“You taste good,” she murmurs into your cunt, matter-of-fact. You can’t help smiling, even through the whine that escapes you as she returns to your clit.

“You’re doing great,” you praise as your fingers tangle into her hair. So soft, so well cared for. Always prim and proper–you love that you get to be the one to unwind her like this.

She’s a remarkably fast learner–in just a few quick minutes, and she has you whining and bucking your hips on the edge of a precipice.

“Oh god Lucy, I’m gonna–”

But you don’t get to finish your sentence, because she doesn’t relent. Her lips seal around your clit and she doesn’t let up until you’re gushing, simultaneously trying to push her away and pull her closer.

“Wow,” she breathes reverently. “Was that good?”

“Incredible,” you sigh. Your bones feel like liquid–it’s all you can do to pull her up into a messy kiss. The taste of your own arousal on your beautiful best friend’s tongue is nothing short of euphoric.

She keeps her mouth locked to yours for a long moment, then you can feel her lips twist into a broad grin. “I want to do it again.”

“Easy killer,” you say with a breathy little chuckle. “It’s your turn first.”

Her eyes widen for a moment, and then she’s nodding her head rapidly. “Okie dokie.”

➔ beta: @ozarkthedog ; dividers: @saradika-graphics

➔ Want to see more from me in the future? Follow @freelancearsonist-updates and turn on post notifications to be notified when I post new fics!

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[innerfare]

Angsty Ace Headcanons 

Summary: A collection of angsty Ace headcanons

Genre: Angst

CW: None // SFW

———

Ace never knew what his mother looked like, never even saw a photograph of her. 

At a certain point, Ace wanted nothing more than to become the marine Garp wanted him to be. He wanted desperately to please his grandfather, a man who could have turned him over to the World Government in exchange for a nice reward and even promotion but chose instead to harbor him. And when Ace learned the truth about his biological father, when Ace realized the World Government would never accept him as one of their own no matter what Garp said, he went to the seashore and cried, forced to accept he would only ever draw the ire of the one man he wanted to please.  

Ace always felt like a monster for beating Luffy. He had a very valid thought process: I have to make him stronger. But he still felt like he was doing something horribly wrong. The guilt stuck with him as he grew older, consuming him when he recalled the times he treated Luffy more like a brother than a son (parentification can be a bitch). 

Ace only began valuing his life after Sabo died. He only did it because he thought he had to for Luffy’s sake. Without Luffy, he would have lost the will to live entirely, and on some level, he did lose the will to live when he met the Straw Hats and realized Luffy was taken care of without him. Rather than feeling peace at having fulfilled the promise he’d made to a deceased Sabo to care for their little brother, he felt a sense of failure because he wasn’t needed. 

Ace once came across one of his father’s old wanted posters and, to his horror, recognized himself. Thus, he avoids his reflection at all costs. He’s been called attractive, but he doesn’t understand why because all he sees when he looks in the mirror is a monster. Burns his own wanted posters when he encounters them because he can’t stand the sight of himself. 

Ace always shrugged it off, but deep down, he felt horribly guilty for sleeping on the floor at Dadan’s place. Bringing food to her doorstep was his way of earning his keep, even as a small child, but the need to pay her back for sheltering a little monster like him didn’t go away when he set sail. He began sending money back to her every month in hopes it would ease the burden he had undoubtedly put on her by existing. 

When Whitebeard tried adopting him, he didn’t resort to violence because he was still trying to take down an Emperor. He did so because he was triggered by Whitebeard’s compassion. It was such a foreign feeling to him he could only think to attack, scared of what that compassion stirred in him. 

Ace was petrified of sex, even when taking every precaution. He was terrified of getting a girl pregnant and bringing a child into the world that hated him before he was ever born and would surely hate his child for all the same reasons, would perhaps even hate that child more because they would be blamed for his crimes in addition to his father’s. He had vivid nightmares about becoming a father, and then felt guilty for having those nightmares about it because he felt like he was inflicting psychological wounds on his nonexistent unborn child by not wanting them. 

Ace died thinking Sabo would be waiting for him on the other side. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[starrgazed22]

THE OFFICE'S HALLOWEEN

Jim Halpert x gn!Reader, but Pam and Dwight are also in this. :) Word count: around 600 Summary: Reader needs to quickly think of a Halloween costume to not get K.O.'d by Dwight's ego. Author's note: I became obsessed with X-men again after seeing Deadpool & Wolverine and I've got this idea! Enjoy!

As you step into the office, a sinking feeling hits you like a ton of bricks. The atmosphere is different today, buzzing with an excitement you can't quite place—until you look around. Every single person is in a costume. Pam at the reception, with her whiskers carefully drawn on and a headband with perky cat ears, looks up at you and offers a soft smile. Across the room, Kevin stands proudly in a superhero costume that’s almost comically tight, and, unsurprisingly, Angela is also in a cat costume… and Phyllis too.

You freeze for a moment, dread creeping up your spine. Halloween. How could you forget?

You walk to the reception, greeting Pam. Then, like a scene from a horror movie, you catch sight of Dwight. He’s sitting there, shrouded in a long black hooded robe, his eyes piercing you.

“You’re late…” Dwight announces, his voice dripping with ominous intent, clearly trying to stay in character.

“Yeah… there was crazy traffic down there,” you respond, scrambling for an excuse.

He inhales deeply, then lets out a dramatic sigh, clearly enjoying his role a little too much. “What are you supposed to be?” His tone suggests he’s already anticipating your failure.

Your mind races. You can’t let him know you forgot it was Halloween. That would be handing him a victory in whatever unspoken battle the two of you are constantly fighting... sometimes three of you, when Jim joins.

You need to think of something fast. Something that’ll completely throw him off.

You got it.

Dwight opens his mouth to speak again, ready to announce your defeat. “I could’ve—” he starts.

You cut him off, smoothly drawing your index and middle finger up against your temple and squinting your eyes in concentration. “—thought so…” you finish his sentence, trying to mimic the deep, contemplative voice of someone who’s just accessed the hidden corners of their mind.

Dwight’s expression falters for a second, his usual expression of suspicion giving way to genuine shock.

“I am Professor X, Charles Xavier,”you declare, trying to sound as confident as possible.

He snorts, immediately slipping back into his usual skepticism. “No you’re not. He’s bald.”

You roll your eyes. “Jesus, just imagine him young!”

“He was always bald, because of his mutation, dumbass,” Dwight snaps back, and you can tell he’s savoring this moment.

You lean in closer to Pam and whisper, “What a nerd.”

Pam stifles a laugh, as she watches you stroll to your desk, which, unfortunately, is directly across from Dwight’s.

“And you are?” you ask, gesturing to his dark, ominous ensemble.

“I am a Sith Lord,” he declares, his voice dripping with melodrama as he pulls back his hood slightly, revealing his intense, steely gaze.

You tilt your head and smirk. “Oh really? I thought you were having an identity crisis. No offense.”

Dwight opens his mouth, ready to retaliate, but he’s suddenly distracted by the sight of Jim walking in through the door. Jim is wearing his usual attire, except for three black circles taped to his shirt.

Dwight is done. “And you are supposed to be?”

Jim glances down at his shirt, then back up at Dwight with a grin. “Three punch holes, Dwight. Normally I’m just Jim. Today, I’m three-punch-hole Jim.”

Dwight stares at him, annoyed that no one seems to take Halloween seriously here. “You’re both so boring. Seriously, you’re made for each other,” he mutters, shaking his head as if the sheer absurdity of it all is too much for him to process.

Jim gives you a look, clearly remarking the last sentence Dwight said. You can’t help but blush slightly. Suddenly Dwight storms off in disgust, robe billowing behind him like a dark, disgruntled shadow, making you, Jim and Pam laugh uncontrollably.

In this bizarre office, it’s the small victories that matter, and you and Jim know you’ve just won this round without even trying.

Another author’s note: I know Professor X as James McAvoy had hair in the films, but they only know the X-Men with Stewart + I read somewhere that in the comics he didn’t have hair at all so Dwight may be right. :D

[li-an-nie]

The origin of Isagi’s talent and a message for us (ft. Naruhaya & Kaiser)

Hi! This is something I've been thinking about for quite a while... and today I finally want to share with you my theory, or rather explanation, for Isagi Yoichi – his character, where his talent for adaptability comes from, as well as our own takeaways we can draw from Kaneshiro's characters.

This is a lot, but I think it shows how powerful the story of Blue Lock really can be!

Transformation

People often like to joke about Slursagi - how this ordinary guy with the seemingly most ordinariest of parents has so far spit out some of the wildest insults on the field haha. Well, sadly I don’t have an explanation for all of that, but I do have one for his incredibly fast and exponential progress in Blue Lock. I mean, we all know by now, as Naruhaya has said before and as was kinda picked up in the most recent chapters – it's his innate aptitude for adaptability, learning and change. Destroying yourself and then rebuilding your best version. Abandoning everything else and thinking of yourself as just a means to an end. While everyone else in Blue Lock had good enough soccer skills to manage just fine on their own so far, this is the method Isagi had to use in order to keep up with all the other players.

(see Ch. 53)

The question is just, where did this amazing talent come from? Is this a learned skill or a mutation, as Ego talked about? Is it nurture or nature?

If we look at it, the other guys in Blue Lock have all these sad backstories, traumas and toxic family relationships and whatnot. Yet Isagi has come so far, despite his ordinary background. Or rather... because of it. Or rather... only someone with a background like him could actually pull this off..! Why? Because Isagi has something that many of us don’t – unconditional love and support.

Again, this is just my own interpretation, but think about the term ‘destroying yourself’ first – what the hell does that even mean (if we ignore the edginess in that statement)?

(This is going to get super abstract, and even I don’t 100% know what I’m talking about, but hear me out first.)

It can mean so much – destroying your personality, your preconceptions of the world or a field, your prejudices, your obsessions, your pride, your fears, your regrets, basically anything that is capable of holding you back. Most people can’t simply do that. Naruhaya couldn’t. We all have inhibitions about certain things, no matter how hard we try, it often feels impossible to let go of certain thoughts and emotions. We're tethered to the past, afraid of losing our ‘self’ we’ve built in the process. There’s always a fear – if we fail, if we slip up, we might genuinely end up with nothing but our own ruin and failures, and that’s why we can never really go 100% of the way.

But Isagi can.

(see Ch. 55)

Origin

Isagi grew up in an ordinary household. But I'd say his family, his parents are actually far from ordinary.

We see it in the spin-off novel first, where Isagi’s incredible spatial awareness was apparent from a young age, making him very timid and much like a scaredy-cat in the beginning. But instead of scolding or condemning him, his parents always tried to understand and support him. And the same applied when Isagi first expressed his desire for a soccer ball.

(see BL Spin-Off - Isagi Yoichi Ch.2)

It doesn't matter if he's a crybaby, as long as he grows up healthy. For the first time, their timid, only son showed them what he wanted to do with his own will. That alone was enough to satisfy them completely.

With that out the way, this scene you probably remember from the manga is more than enough to illustrate everything (Ch. 152).

"You’re still our son, whether you’re special or average. What makes me happy is that you’re doing what you want, and giving your best at it."

"Whether you win or lose, no matter what… we’ll always be there for you, Yocchan."

"So live your life as you want."

Jesus Christ. If that’s not the most loving and supportive parents in the world, then what is?

Isagi’s parents have simply no expectations of him. They love and support him so unconditionally. They encourage and adore him, and they will always think of him their precious son, no matter if he wins or loses, if he chooses to live an average person’s life or risk everything to become the best striker in the world. Isagi knows this, and he grew up like this, he grew up with a certainty that no matter what you will still be loved. That’s why he can sacrifice everything of himself – because ultimately, under that everything is something that will never leave, and this certainty is what enables him to push so far in the first place. He developed a mindset that could push itself to its limits, and it directly impacted not only his life decisions but his evolution on the soccer field as well.

(see Ch. 55)

Naruhaya, on the other hand, had the same talent for adaptability, but he wasn't able to go as far as Isagi. Because unlike Isagi, there were things he had to protect, the stakes were too high – his sisters, and their precarious financial situation. Even though a dire situation like this should enable him to push himself even further, that stake is also exactly what held him back in the end. In his case, it matters so much whether he wins or loses. When it starts to matter, you ultimately become afraid of what will happen if you do lose, and for him that meant so much more than just the end of his dreams. Isn’t it natural to feel more under stress when the stakes are higher?

Opposites

So because of this foundation that Isagi has, he is different than the rest. This would kind of speak against the assumption I had at the beginning of Blue Lock, that his ordinariness is meant to represent all of us. With basically the message that anyone can evolve and transform themselves for the better, just like Isagi. But to be honest that was already thrown out of the window through the spin-off, where you see that Isagi was already gifted as a child. And I’m not even sure if this was supposed to be Kaneshiro’s intended takeaway to begin with, but there’s another way this message can fit together. The missing piece lies in Kaiser.

Because yeah, we all saw what Isagi realized in Ch. 282 was basically following the same thing Kaiser did 20 chapters before (discard everything but your original ego).

If we take into account what we know Isagi, it becomes all the more heartbreaking and ironic when we actually see Kaiser do the same type of evolution in Ch. 262 for the first time – I quote, “past achievements, pride, everything he ever won”, literally the joy he felt about becoming human, he was willing to destroy and throw it all away, he became zero, despite knowing that if he fails that’s all there would be left – zero.

(see Ch. 262)

He’s always had zero, and the soccer ball is the first thing he ever truly ‘gains’. After his career takes off, he slowly acquired more and more, fame, money, achievements, you name it. This would be the first time he possesses so much, but he doesn’t know the pain of losing something yet, because he never had anything before to begin with. Kaiser built himself a high mountain out of things he never had, but then was willing to risk the pain of losing everything and roll back down into that pit of nothing again, all for the sake of his goal. If that's not strength, then what is?

And it’s also a direct contrast to Isagi.

Isagi and Kaiser are opposites, they are extremes that came from completely different worlds and family backgrounds. And yet they are also exactly the same, because they had the same strengths and resolves and were able to undergo the same kind of evolution. One has all the love and one lived their entire life deprived of it, one never questioned being human and one never believed themself to be one, yet they both were able to discard everything of themselves and then rebuild a better version – all for the sake of their goals.

Takeaway

So coming back to the message, how does that apply to us, the average person? Isagi and Kaiser represent a spectrum, and if you ever feel stuck somewhere in life, then remember – you are somewhere in between those two worlds. Doesn't that mean that you're capable of the same change too? I also don’t think it matters whether you’re a genius or talented learner, in real life there’s no clear line between those things anyway. Every one of us excels at something and every one of us has to learn and adapt in other areas. But what Blue Lock ultimately shows is that no matter what background, age or ambition, in the end, the things that can push us forward the most are our own dreams and ego. We are all capable of change.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk!

[slowcatsworld]

Marc Snuffy and His Nightmares

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

His sight was blurry, like a painting that had been smeared over. Of all the colors blending together, Marc could oh so clearly make out his face.

That sullen, lifeless face. The light that once shone with promise of regality and conquest was replaced with a dull, muddy brown that only encapsulated the horrors of peasantry and failure. The dirty, overgrown locks that covered his forehead instead of that proud, Mohawk-esque hairstyle he would adorn with his full chest. That god awful beard that tainted his once golden skin, matted together with bile that had poured from his mouth. The tear streaks he could barely make out had dried so delicately along his cheeks.

Oh, Mick. How Marc had let you down.

Snuffy’s eyes opened instantly. The hazy blurs of dream began to fade and the harsh lines of reality became more and more apparent with every blink he took.

There was no more Mick. Mick wasn’t next to him, in this bed of love and security that he had nested in so cautiously for months and months. You were, with your hair unkempt and your drool that had seeped from your lips onto your pillow. How similar the two of you look right now, Marc noted with slight horror.

Before he could think much more, his hand was already pressing against your cheek; cradling the side of your face. He cradled Mick just like this too that day. His thumb whisked over your lips as he gathered some of the drool there. He didn’t like it, didn’t like this feeling scalding over his body and mind with such heat. And yet, even though his best friend may live in his head, Marc knows he is gone and you are not.

You are alive, even when you look so dead. Dead to the world, dead to him. The only thing he can be certain of right now is the warmth of your skin and the current of air circulation from your breaths. He can’t trust his thoughts. But he can trust your pulse.

Inhaling with a shake, Marc squints to focus on you more clearly in the dark of the night. Your skin was carefully drawn and colored by Michelangelo himself, with streaks of moonlight giving your skin an ethereal glow. Your hair, though unkempt, foiled and laid to rest around you perfectly. A composition directed by Mozart. You were royal. You are royal.

You are..awake.

Marc stared into your eyes. You stared back, sleep dulling the inquisitive look you were giving him.

“What are you doing?” You mumble, closing your eyes.

He blinks, “How long have you been awake?”

You ignore his question, “I can feel your hand shaking. Do you want to talk about it?”

Your hand comes up and slides in tune with his own. He watches as you press a soft, chaste kiss to his palm. Marc reaches his other hand under you and pulls you towards him. He settles in the crook of your neck, trying to find the peace that sleep did not offer him. You entangle further with him, using your free hand to pet his hair. Moments pass with the two of you just like this.

“I just woke up. Felt you.” You whisper, hoping to draw out a respond from him. He sighs.

“Go back to sleep. I feel you too.”

You line the top of his head with slow kisses. He didn’t want to talk about it.

You knew what happened with Mick Moon. You know how much it haunts Marc. You know that you can’t help him when he tries to shut you out like this. For a guy that’s generally so easy going, he can become real uptight when he feels the need. This need is one you don’t particularly like.

“I love you,” You try. “I love you Marc.”

His breath hitches. That got him, Wetness begins to coat the junction between your neck and shoulder. His body is starting to heave with every muffled sob he lets out. You let him, holding him closely to you as he releases all of that burden he’s been caring.

•••

You don’t know how much has passed. You press a kiss to Marc’s hair again. Your eyelids refuse to open, sleep caging you. Despite that, rest will not find you, not yet. Marc stopped crying a good bit ago, but you speculate the two of you are both still awake. You press another kiss to his head.

“I love you.” You barely hear it. It’s small and weak, probably just like how he feels right now. But it’s raw. Thats one thing Marc always does, and continues to do: love with raw passion. He loved Mick, loves Mick. He has loved you and will still love you well into tomorrow. Just like Mick.

You smile. The waves of dream take over the two of you, that solace of the embrace you two fall asleep in being one of protection and intimacy.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

This biscuit is just for you, mwah 😽

9.8.24