#there are more but I'm getting sleepy

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

real talk having the 2nd worst new years eve yet 🤢🤢🤢 (throat infection, twisted neck, banged-about-foot, ego AND the rest o' me all bruised like misjuggled peaches 🍑🍑🍑)

im bent outa shape and suspectin the universe owes me 8 buck if anyone wannsa chip in

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

[canisalbus]

Sighthounds are so sleepy by nature it just makes Machete even funnier that poor guy must be absolutely EXHAUSTED beyond regular standards. The greyhounds around him are baffled that he stays up all night working.

[uharuz]

˗ˏˋ HAPPY JONGHO DAY! ´ˎ˗ cr. 1, 2

[heartorbit]

we get a little silly

[prismaticsaltedink]

Scoria and Sakura are best friends! It's so cute when I see the things they do together, and it makes me so beyond happy that they both came to live with me so that they could share their lives with each other. They absolutely insist on it, and does so much good for the other.

I can't imagine how else they could have found happiness if things hadn't worked out exactly as they did. Scoria has basically been Sakura's "emotional support snake" while she worked through things from her past I'll never fully know that caused her a lot of issues with panic and fear. Sakura knows this too, and looks out for her sister, the only one she truly trusts and feels completely safe with.

The moment they wake up they both want each other to snuggle and play with. Scoria loves to be affectionate with both me and her sister who seems to have not had this earlier in her life- but Scoria is showing her how nice it is not only directly but demonstrating with me and Sakura also trying, copying what she has seen her sister do.

Sometimes when one goes to check on the other they'll join in on... I'm not even sure what they were doing. But they had a good time while taking a mandated union break from digging tunnels for the isopods.

So happy I get to share in the adventures of these two best friends! It makes me so happy to see them living their best lives together, and being beyond content snuggled together with their found family.

[luckyartdrawer]

Hello good sir, I am sure you have well intentions! :)

I wanted to do some lighting practice for fun and now I have this sly devil. I'm pretty proud of how he turned out and how fast I was able to make this! :3

Welp. Now I kinda wanna turn him into a character. we'll see if I ever do, hehe :P

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Felled by one bowl.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[sysig]

Family ♥ (Patreon)

[kaisollisto]

(Based off of the reality of having a metal ring in your back as a constant reminder of your fate and how that affects you as a person set in the Switzerland arc)

“Does it hurt?” 

Ava’s pressed face down into the pillow sleep curling around her limbs. She hums, she can’t remember what she says, she’s exhausted. Her arms are tangled beneath her pillow. She holds her fingers tightly between each other, her bones ache from the pressure but her hands no longer shake. Ava hasn’t experienced this before, a fear that haunts her at night. (She finds she cannot stop dreaming about dying. It’s stifling in the cover of night trying to figure out where she is.) 

She slowly opens her eyes and squints in the darkness. Beatrice is facing her a furrow in her brow that Ava knows she’s doing unconsciously. Ava’s lip quirks a smidgen, Beatrice looks funny. It’s a bit silly to her, Beatrice no doubt working out a solution to an unknown problem that Ava has yet to see in the middle of the night. In her sleepy state she wants to laugh at the imaginary cogs churning in Beatrice’s head. 

Beatrice scooches closer and Ava panics, her skin can taste the dust of Bea’s forearm. She hoists herself up on her elbows, turning to face Beatrice. “Wha?” Ava’s shaking off bits of sleep from her mouth when Beatrice repeats herself. 

“Does the Halo hurt?” 

She doesn’t know if she wants to answer that. Ava peers over Beatrice squinting at the harsh light of the digital clock on Beatrice’s side. Ava loves it, it reminds her of the early 2000’s and the aesthetic of waking up to an alarm to go somewhere. The clock blinks an innocent 1:43 Am, and Ava debates on letting her head thump back down. 

She turns her body on her side, she can feel the halo shifting in her back and it makes her want to throw up. The sides of the halo press against her shoulder blades and Ava resists the urge to yank it out. She grits her teeth and settles ignoring the skin of her back pulling tight to accommodate for the ring. Beatrice is still expecting an answer and Ava can’t lie to her, she pulls the covers of the sheet up to her chest hoping to bide more time for an answer. 

"Everything hurts Bea," Ava smiles, "getting my ass handed to me is hard work."

Beatrice frowns displeased but looks at her through her lashes, it's unguarded, the stress and worries of the world stay out of their room in the dead of night. Her lashes are so pretty and Ava wants to curse the soft glow of the moon. There’s just enough moonlight to illuminate her eyes but overshadow her freckles. Ava swallows down the taste of defeat, she can’t win, she thinks. 

Her gaze is soft, Beatrice is looking at her and it’s different yet the same. The same feeling in her chest constricting her lungs, the same soft gaze of Beatrice. Beatrice who likes what she sees in Ava when Ava can barely see where she begins. She doesn’t like to dwell on it, the truth of the matter being what belongs to Ava.

If she closes her eyes she can pretend just a little longer. She can give herself the hope of the future and what comes after all this. She can put down the fighting and the artifact and live. Ava doesn't want to think about it anymore, at least not tonight when Beatrice is here with her. 

Beatrice is soft. She knows it from hours and hours of training. She's felt it when Beatrice corrects her form, in the way she talks. She speaks from a place of care like she has turned the harsh words in her brain over and over to soften the syllables spoken to Ava. And Ava doesn't linger on it, the meaning behind it, (Ava didn't think she'd make it this far, finding a person who cares quite like Bea does.)

And Ava's got it bad, she knows she's fucked because Beatrice doesn’t say anything about her language and Ava can't not tell her the truth. She looks down, her hand fiddling with the bed sheet underneath them. 

"It doesn't hurt," if she thinks about it she can feel the fibers of the cotton between the pads of her fingers. "But it's very uncomfortable." She doesn't want to find the response in Beatrice's eyes, content to hear it from her voice. The soft British lilting accent that holds her just as soft as a touch. 

She waits, she can picture Bea’s mannerisms with her eyes closed but maybe she should check just to be sure. Ava peers up at Beatrice and she’s suddenly closer. Her eyes really are pretty, there’s a depth to them that Ava wants to spend an ungodly amount of time studying.

“Can I help?”

[quadrantadvisor]

The Last Time Valerie and Phantom Called a Truce, mostly notes with some prose, 2,302 words

Not many people visited the GIW building at the outskirts of town. Residents of Amity Park were vaguely unsettled, that a government facility could appear in their little corner of Illinois seemingly overnight, but it was out of the way, unobtrusive to the town, and arguably, mostly, hopefully, harmless. So it was unlikely that, on that particular night, anyone would have been outside the building, watching the goings on that occurred. If anyone had been, however, they would have seen something exceedingly strange. The building lit up, red and green alarms blaring, but its automatic ghost shield never activating. Behind the tinted windows (what kind of building has tinted windows?) the vague forms of agents could be seen scurrying from place to place, not with their usual posture and air of dignity, but crouched low, panic clear in the motions. Suddenly, one of the windows would shatter, glass bursting outwards in the wake of several shots of pink plasma, followed by a familiar figure. One of Amity's local ghost hunters, clad in red, would shoot out of the window, hoverboard whistling at the speed. The absolute strangest thing, the thing that no passerby would be quite able to reconcile with what they thought they knew of Amity's ghost and hunter populations, and their relations to each other, would be the figure in her arms. Black and white and green, green smearing the sky, trailing her hoverboard, staining the front of her suit with its toxic, glowing aura. The Red Huntress, seemingly rescuing Phantom from the GIW's facility? Valerie herself was having trouble believing it.

More under the cut:

Sure, for the last few months she was more likely to fight with Phantom than against him. They had an understanding, of sorts, that outside threats needed to be dealt with first. Valerie couldn't claim to understand Phantom and his motivations more than she did any other ghost, but she could acknowledge, now, that, whatever his reasons, he really did want to keep violent ghosts out of Amity. Only a stupid hunter would be willing to give up an asset during a fight, and Valerie wasn't stupid (unlike, say, the Fentons). More often than not, Phantom would end up trapping the rampaging spirit in his stolen Fenton tech. Sometimes Valerie would tell herself that it would be stupid to end up releasing the ghost after all of that work, so she'd let him fly off to- to do whatever it was that he did with the ghosts that he caught. Sometimes, he would make some dumb quip at her, and she'd blast at him, and he'd laugh before hightailing away (seemingly at higher speeds all the time,) and she'd track him on her scanner until he mysteriously disappeared. Recently, her shots tended to go wide. It seemed somehow uncool to shoot a guy directly after trusting him to watch her back, even if he was already dead. Though, she couldn't afford to let him think she was going soft, either.

-valerie breaks phantom out from giw

-phantom: hi

-valerie: hi

-Phantom is just trying to figure out if being dissected is still on the schedule for the day and Valerie is feeling vaguely sick at the insinuation that she'd be involved in that

-He is loosing so much ectoplasm and she's like hey are you gonna be like, okay? Do you need anything????? And he's like "you got a first aid kit?"

-she does in fact have a first aid kit and fuck it it's not like phantom doesn't know who she is so she takes him to her house

-they fly in through the window

-they get the top half of his suit off (Valerie probably had to do it, and she hadn't even thought that the suit could separate from his body, let alone that it would have a zipper) and anyways he has an extremely human like torso with extremely human like musculature which is all basically on display because of the very corpse like y-cut he's sporting)

-danny's like well that doesn't look great, you've got sterile thread right? I definitely have to stitch this. And she's arguing with him because obviously he can't do it, he can barely move his arms!

-and then her dad calls out, phantom fucking FREEZES, she's never really seen him scared like this, he's always more of a fight or flight guy but she realizes that this time he can't, he hadn't looked at all scared when he'd been asking her if she was taking him somewhere to be cut open in a lab but she tells him "don't worry it's just my dad" and he looks at her like that's /worse/

-(Danny has parental trauma is all I'm getting at like the idea of someone his parents have worked with before bringing him to them is fucking horrifying in a way that being dissected by the government isn't)

-Meanwhile Val is like "hi Daddy good thing you're here you're better at stitches than I am"

-Damon has to just. Take this in for a second.

-(how does Valerie's dad talk) "good lord kid! Valerie, get the antiseptic"

-they get to work on him, mostly Damon with val as assistant, handing him things etc. Danny is in a lot of pain and he's trying not to freak out but he finally asks "you're not going to tell the Fentons about this, are you?"

-Damon (sharply): did the Fentons do this to you?

-Danny just flinches

-Val: it was the GIW

-damon: so what do the Fentons have to do with this?

-danny: you've, uh, you've worked with them before, is all?

-val: you've never seemed scared of the Fentons before?

-danny: yeah, when I was flying under my own power. I'm pretty difficult to catch, but they have made some... /creative/ threats about what they'll do if they ever get me in their lab.

-val: *gestures to all of him*

-danny: the GIW are a depersonalized government agency. They don't care that much about what goes on in this town, most of them are just collecting a paycheck. The Fentons /hate/ me.

-this is a sobering thought and an upsetting reaction for him to have had directly after being cut open. He's thinking about what would be /worse/.

-Damon: you'll be safe here. You just rest up.

-he has not directly addressed the question.

-phantom just nods and closes his eyes.

-outside of the room Damon is like: Valerie did you break into a government compound

-val (winces): maybe?

-damon: *sighs* I'm so glad your identity is still mostly secret. I've got half a mind to make you stop going out at all! What if those government wack jobs try to arrest you! Or /attack/ you! You said your new suit has an ectosignature, didn't you? They could claim you're a ghost!

-this has never occurred to Valerie before. Sudden flash of Phantom, strapped to an operating table, all but gutted, but this time the blood is red, it's hers.

-Damon: *hands on her shoulders* I don't mean to scare you, honey, you've been through a lot today. And I know that this was a big step for you.

-val: what do you mean?

-damon: ...clearly you and phantom haven't really been... enemies for a while now. I've seen you two on the news, you fight really well together. But I know that letting him help you fight other ghosts and actually doing something incredibly ill-advised and dangerous to save him are two very different things. Do you know what changed?

-val: *shakes he head* I've been kind of trying not to think about it. You're right, today has been... a lot. I... can we talk about this later? I'm so tired.

-damon: *kisses her forehead* of course, sweetie.

-val might hug him here, just to like, hold him for a moment. He's a pretty good dad.

-Danny is in her room. Do they just like leave him on the floor? I think they must I can't imagine either of them moving him onto the bed, Valerie because she's not there yet and Damon mostly because the kid seems intimidated by him.

-damon goes back into Val's room to get her bed dressings to set up the couch. He takes the blanket, sheet, and a pillow to val, but he gives the second pillow to Danny. (Hopefully I don't do Damon perspective so I don't have to decide how that goes down ajdmfkdlsbdj)

-(god I think Val's room is carpeted Danny is just laying in sticky ectoplasm carpet fibres gross)

-val has trouble at first because her head is just spinning but once she gets there she sleeps like the dead (lol)

-Val is upset that she could've hurt him this badly before and now she feels like a hypocrite because she still hasn't forgiven him and maybe her from before was right and he's just a ghost and she shouldn't be feeling sorry for him at all but even thinking that makes her feel like a monster etc etc etc

-dream sequence?

-Okay in the morning we have

-damon: how are you doing phantom? Or do you prefer Danny?

-danny: uh, either is fine. I guess I usually go with Phantom. Keeps things less confusing, since I'm not the only Danny in town.

-he's sitting up and he rubs the back of his neck, and when he chuckles he winces and curls in on himself, but he's obviously much better than last night

-val: can you use your powers now? Didn't seem like they were working yesterday.

-he holds up a hand and his face screws up and after a moment the hand disappears. He's near panting with the effort and pain

-danny: yeah, they injected my core with something but it seems like it's wearing off

-"Core?"

-"oh, uh, it's like- there isn't really a clear equivalent in the human body. I guess you could say it's the only organ that ghosts really /have/. It's what determines our form and self and, well, everything. Without it we're just so much ectoplasm. I don't know what they put in mine, but it didn't try to destabilize me or anything, so that's good. It was more like it stabilized me /more/, or put my body in some kind of stasis. It kept me pretty still, and docile, and probably most importantly, tangible. Can't exactly examine something you can't touch. Though, I think that the Fentons just use phase proof tools, which seems simpler to me, but what do I know."

-Haha anyways

-Damon: do painkillers work on you? We've got ibuprofen.

-Danny:... Yeesssssssss?

-Damon: *raises an eyebrow* I'm not giving it to you if you don't know what it does to you.

-danny: no, I mean yes, I can take painkillers and they help. I just- I thought it might be a trick question?

-damon: well we already used disinfectant and stitches and bandages on you, and that all worked like normal. I don't think it's that strange.

-danny: aw man, I should've told you not to bother with the disinfectant. Sorry about that, I hope it wasn't too much, I was really out of it last night. Ectoplasm naturally burns out bacteria, I can't really get human infections.

-(I've been writing Danny as too articulate for this scene, gotta remember to make him have a rough time.)

-val: so if your body is ectoplasm and your organs are fake then how do painkillers help you?

-danny: uh. I dunno?

-damon makes breakfast, and that's probably when val stays behind to call truce

"I'm done shooting at you," she said. "...Huh?" was all the reply she got. He seemed worn out now, vacant, hardly conscious. She wanted to look at him, to see how he was taking it, but she couldn't bring herself to. "It wouldn't make sense, after this. Unless you start menacing the town again, or whatever, I'm done." She stared down at her hands, gripping each other. "Oh. Huh." His voice was lighter, and even though it was clearly an effort for him just to talk she could somehow hear the smile in his tone. "So, truce?" She scoffed, and it broke some tension within her, but she didn't feel better for it. Her shoulders curled in towards each other. "I'm informing you that I'm not gonna hunt you anymore. It's not a truce if you never started the fights."

-val: you ruined my life

-danny: I know.

-val: you won't even apologize?

-danny: do you actually want me to? would it help? I could tell you what happened and why, but you don't want to hear me excuse it. you got hurt, and it sucks. for what it's worth, i really am sorry. does that help?

-val: no.

-except that after all this, maybe it does, just a little

-damon insists that they move phantom and they bring him out to the living room and sit him between the couch and the coffee table. Damon sets up breakfast there and they all eat together. It is exceedingly weird. I think Damon also starts calling him Danny. Val hates that.

-at some point maybe Damon helps Danny clean himself up (my poor boy)

-(i think that Danny's body can slowly absorb excess ectoplasm but if it dries it's a lost cause)

-also getting dried ectoplasm out of anything fucking sucks, Danny feels so bad about Val's carpet

-eventually Danny is like crap what time is it what /day/ is it I legitimately have to leave

-kid you can barely use your powers right now you sure about this?

-he's sure

-danny and Valerie say bye

-danny: well this has been...

-val: really, really weird?

-danny: yeah. But kind of nice, too. Um. Thank you. Thank you for /everything/.

-Val: get out of my house.

[aimbutmiss]

The day started like any other normal day. And it was, to Mihawk at least.

Yes, it was his birthday, but he never really cared for the occasion. Was he grateful for the life he was given? Of course he was. But he never saw the point in celebrating. He remembered the day when Shanks had showed up out of nowhere, ten years or so ago. He was overjoyed to see the man, hands itching to reach for Yoru, but the man stopped him with a whine.

"Nooooo, I come in peace! We can't fight, not today of all days!"

He held up the bottle in his hand with a bright smile. "We're gonna party until the sun goes down and comes back up!"

A frown pulled down on Mihawk's face, who was not quite understanding the situation. "What are you talking about?"

Shanks' smile quickly dropped too. "Don't tell me you forgot your own birthday."

Ah, right. So that's what this was about. The man had told him his date of birth some time ago, and in his surprise and perhaps slight tipsiness, he had admitted that they shared the same birthday. In hindsight, he should have known the red head would pull something like this. It was definitely in character. He sighed in frustration.

"I'm not quite the type to celebrate. You know I don't like to party like you folk."

"That's nonsense!" Shanks walked up to him and slapped a hand on his back, strong enough to send a normal man flying. But of course, Mihawk didn't move an inch. "Parties are like, the best part of being a pirate! And even if I respect your mysterious and lonely guy schtick, it's your damn birthday! You can make an exception for one day of the year."

He looked up, reminiscing about the past. "The captain was very firm about that. He would throw me and Buggy the most extravagant parties. He never once forgot; can you believe that?"

The captain he was talking about was indeed the King of the Pirates, Gold Roger. It had shocked Mihawk at first, learning about Shanks’ past. But the more he got to know the man, the more it made sense. A man of his caliber couldn’t have come from anything else. Shanks was a very talkative drunkard, so Mihawk was used to listening to stories about that time of his life. And frankly, he quite enjoyed it. These men in his stories and the stuff they went through were like straight out of legends... He gave a small smile to the excited man in front of him. "I guess I could indulge you just this once, but only because it's your birthday too."

He snapped out of the memories and slowly got out of bed, having had enough nostalgia to last him the day. But he was stopped by a floating hand pulling on his night gown.

"Stay."

Mihawk looked to the source of the muffled protest, which happened to be the blue mess in his bed. "Let go, Buggy."

"Nooooooo..."

He sighed as he sat back down on the bed, fingers immediately going for the soft blue locks. An approving hum came from the clown as he brushed through his hair with his long fingers.

This sleepy man, with whom he shared a bed, was one of those from Shanks’ stories. Except he was nothing like them. He wasn’t brave and fearless like in the stories, he was weak. But he knew exactly what he was and what he was capable of, and Mihawk loved him for that. He was charming beyond words, and a little stupid, but Mihawk was into that, as embarrassing as it was.

“Get back into bed and get your birthday cuddles.”

Mihawk chuckled at his partner. “Nice try, sweetheart.”

He got up to leave for the bathroom. “Do you know where Crocodile went?”

“Nope! How should I know?” Buggy answered way too quickly, which made the swordsman’s brows furrow.

“Hm. He’s probably in his office like usual.”

“Yes! That’s it.” Buggy exclaimed in triumph, for what he didn’t know. “He’s such a workaholic.”

“Indeed.” He replied nonchalantly as he reached for his razor.

“Wait!” Buggy ran out of bed to his side with a smile. “Let me do that for you.”

Mihawk stared at him with a raised brow. “You want to help me shave? For what reason exactly?”

“It’ll be relaxing! I’m good with my hands, you know.” Buggy wiggled his brows suggestively, which made his lips curve just the slightest bit. The clown could be funny sometimes, mostly when he wasn’t trying. Oh, how he loved this silly man.

“You literally have no reason to do this.”

Buggy sighed in frustration. “I’m just trying to pamper you, birthday boy. Take it or leave it.”

Mihawk thought about it for a second, and reluctantly gave the razor to the clown. “You better not mess this up. I have a very particular- “

“I’m aware, dear. Just trust me.”

He gently held his face and got to work, carving out the intricate design with capable movements. After he was done, he wiped his face with a fresh towel and gave him a kiss on the cheek to seal the deal.

“Was that a part of the service?” Mihawk jokingly asked.

“Only for you, handsome.”

Mihawk was never one for being coddled, always believing that being spoiled was being looked down upon. He didn’t need special attention and privilege to make it in life. But this, this he could get used to.

He pulled Buggy into a kiss that started innocent, but quickly grew more desperate. He was sneaking his hands under Buggy’s polka dot pyjama shirt when the man pushed him away.

“Nuh uh.”

“Nuh uh?” Mihawk stared at his boyfriend in bewilderment.

“Not now. I’ll give your birthday gift at night.”

Mihawk frowned. “It’s my birthday now too. What difference does it make?”

“God, you’re impatient. Night. No negotiating.”

Mihawk pursed his lips and didn’t protest. He was not happy, though.

Buggy stayed with him throughout the day, keeping him company and making sure he stayed away from the beach.

Yes, Mihawk could tell. But to be fair, Buggy wasn’t exactly being subtle. But he didn’t say a word, indulging in whatever the man was planning.

A surprise party, perhaps? God, he really hoped it wasn’t that. Crowds and being the center of attention didn’t agree with his constitution.

And where was his other partner (both in romantic and business contexts), Crocodile? He wasn’t in his office like he initially assumed. He was sure Buggy knew where the man was but refrained from asking questions. He was quite sure the two situations were somehow connected.

That in itself was quite ridiculous to think about. Crocodile didn’t seem like the type of man to care about birthdays either, like himself. Maybe Buggy had somehow convinced him? It all seemed very unnecessary. He knew the clown had good intentions, but he would have been fine if no one acknowledged his birthday at all. It wasn’t of importance to him, simple as that.

Then why was this bothering him so much? He tried to focus on Buggy’s rambling but that feeling did not leave.

Why did it feel so wrong to be celebrated just for existing? To be loved and cared for?

Don’t get him wrong, he wasn’t unhappy with it. Quite the opposite actually. But it just felt so… foreign. He needed time to adjust, to make his peace with it.

He thought he had gotten over this particular problem after he formed a relationship with his two business partners. It had taken a lot out of him to simply let them in, to feel comfortable in their presence, to not fret from every touch… And even though he trusted them completely, here he was doubting his place.

It just didn’t make sense. They were wasting their time and effort for an inconsequential event that would pass by, leaving nothing changed. So, what if he got a year older? What did that change? Why did they care so much about something he himself didn’t care for? To show their love? But Mihawk already knew they loved him.

“Earth to Mihawk, hello?”

Mihawk snapped out of his thoughts, staring at Buggy’s concerned eyes. “Hm? Sorry, I got lost in thoughts. You were saying?”

“I was saying I want to walk along the beach… You sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, don’t worry. I’m alright, just a bit sluggish today. And sure, we can go for a stroll.”

He walked hand in hand with Buggy, trying to ease his mind and keep small talk going. He wasn’t big on physical touch, but he really appreciated the warmth of Buggy’s hand then. The clown always had a way of comforting him without trying. Mihawk stopped walking when he saw the dinner table placed on the beach. That certainly wasn’t there before. It was adorned with red roses and lit candles, setting a romantic atmosphere. Crocodile was standing beside the table, looking at his pocket watch.

“You’re late.”

“I know! I got lost in my speaking, and hawk eyes didn’t try to stop me so I lost track of time…”

“You and your big mouth… I guess it’s alright, we didn’t miss the sunset.”

Crocodile walked up to him, wrapping an arm around his waist and sharing a chaste kiss.

“Happy birthday, hawk eyes.”

“Thank you.” Mihawk broke the eye contact as he felt his cheeks get hotter.

Crocodile gave a sly smirk. “Someone’s being bashful.”

“Well, I didn’t expect… this. I was convinced you were throwing me a party.”

Buggy frowned at the thought. “Of course not! That would make you uncomfortable, wouldn’t it? That’s the last thing I would want on your birthday. A private dinner on the other hand…”

“Is much more your style, is it not?” Crocodile completed Buggy’s sentence.

Mihawk was the luckiest man alive. He gave his lovers a small smile. “Yes, indeed it is. You are too thoughtful.”

“It’s literally the bare minimum but okay.”

“I can’t believe this, but I agree with the clown. What kind of partners would we be if we didn’t know your preferences?”

Mihawk sat on the chair the taller man pulled out for him as Buggy poured him a glass of wine, one of his favorites that happened to be quite expensive.

“I just don’t quite get what’s so important about this day, or what you would go through all this trouble for.”

Crocodile and Buggy shared a glance and turned to him with sad eyes.

“Because it’s the day you came into this world, and therefore to our lives? Because we love you?”

“Indeed. I don’t see what’s so confusing about us wanting to cherish the man we love, to show him how much he means to us. Is that a problem?”

Mihawk stared at the two in astonishment and eventually, a big smile stretched across his lips. “No, not at all.”

The swordsman had a lot to learn about love, about being loved, but he had two perfect partners to help him through the steps. He could get used to celebrating his birthday if it meant he got to share it with the people he loved. Maybe that’s what he had been missing all these years to give this day a meaning. Company.

And after dinner, Buggy didn’t forget about his promise from the morning. Easy to say Mihawk went to sleep a very tired but satisfied man.

[heymrspatel]

can we talk about this real quick? like can we talk about how ian's just lying there looking at his husband in their new space? were they chatting? quiet pillow talk? were they just being quiet and ian was taking it upon himself to fondly observe him? thank you for your time.

ray. you come into my house with this? fully knowing? the effect? it's going? to HAAAVE?! i see how it is...

i think it's a mix of all. i think they're absolutely floating in the afterglow. just taking their time coming down. caressing. quietly talking. taking their time with what they want to say. conversations about anything and nothing. "do you want pancakes tomorrow?" and "we have an easy work day planned" and "i loved how you touched me tonight" and "kiss me" slow, soft. little smooches. little giggles. long stares. easy smiles. heavy sighs. a 'baby' here. a 'big guy' there. i love you, i love you, i love you.

but, i know ian also took his time looking. just going over all those features he already has memorized. mickey's straight nose, his long eyelashes, his eyebrows currently at rest, his freckles. so many! lighter than ian's, but there all the same. his shiny black hair, his ears, his neck - faintly marked - beautiful, collarbone, shoulders, chest, belly, down down down... ian's hands slowly touching everything he's looking at. with his fingers tips, feather soft. mickey all floaty and glowy and warm, accepting it all.

so, yea. i think everything, softly and slowly.

[lesbianjudasiscariot]

we need more ugly women in movies

[moe-broey]

In At Least Three Universes, You and I Are Friends

[stupidhany]

Welcome to another late night post cause I just finished this doodle✨