#Spector

[cheddar-baby]

[ginger-rat]

More Spector!

Spector is the Sierra Madre hologram of my Courier Six rambling about him below

Spector is a complete copy of Six’s brain. The thing is Six always had a very bad memory after being shot in the head by Benny and general repression. The brain scan salvaged all the memories it could. A computer stores memories far more effectively than a human brain.

When Spector comes online for the first time he freaks out because 1 he has no physical form and 2 for the first time ever he has a crystal clear memory. He remembers everything terrible thing that has ever happened to him and every terrible thing he has done all at once causes him to lose it. He tries to delete every negative memory but only succeeds in removing them and hiding them deep in the Lucky 38 servers. This leaves Spector with a very patchy memory of Six’s life on top of the near 100 years Six lived as a ghoul after he made that brain scan. Spector lies to everyone saying the memories must have just gotten corrupted, or lost in the transfer.

Due to the lack of memories Spector takes on a much cheerier disposition than Six had. Spector was supposed to only be an emergency protocol that would activate after Six’s death and shut off once Six’s affairs were taken care of and Vegas was safe. Spector decided he doesn’t want to shut off. He lies about this as well saying the shut down protocol must be broken.

[fixinit-au]

Recent drawings!!

[jellhound]

spector! a donkey that flunked out of unicorn school and is very sad about it (he wanted to become an unicorn so bad…)

[milli-string]

"From the future to you 🦋"

Spector

With these gifts, he traveled back in time temporarily, hearing the calls from his past self. Reliving his memories, he was there to aid himself, guiding him to the right path.

All the way through until his old self met his creator. Either he couldn't interfere with his old self's choices.... or he couldn't stand watching his father die before him again.

[agbpaints]

This is also a FWL favtion, right guys?

Guys?

[necroliberty]

This is for Tear's birthday, thank you again @eriscary for the wonderful ideas and the art you do. I hope you like that one.

Spector meets Tear.

Spector never truly hated the one that took his place. He knew now why he was banished from the au he called home. The breaking down of the multiverse had broken him too. He couldn't go back anymore, he would only destroy his au if he pushed further in. So he stayed in Limos' castle, a place too big for the group. Most of the rooms were refurbished into libraries anyway. Which he never truly cared for visiting. What was the point? "I am such a nihilistic coward." Spector didn't even have the strength to laugh. So he made a bone and burned its end to smoke it. It was still the only comfort he truly had.

The door of the balcony opened to Herald, his boss? Mentor? Owner? He still couldn't pinpoint how to call him. So he stuck to just not talking to him, it's easier. Herald also seemed to not be the most receptive to complaint. Harbinger who followed him like his shadow was proof of it. A Frisk of that Dusttale au variant Herald came from. Most Dusts kill the avatars of their timeline. Instead he heard this child express pain at having to see everyone turn to dust by their own hands. And decided to make sure Frisk would never see stuff like this again. No one knows where the eyes are though, so blindfolded Frisk it is.

Well that and the ghost of Papyrus head and hands was good enough to make that judgment too. Okay his name now was Banshee, but who cares. No one else but him and Herald saw the ghost, though it just spoke of how violent this particular Dust sans could be. Painstakingly breaking his own brother's bone until he stopped seeing him as a good person. Limos, the demon of nightmares, didn't call his group the worst of the worst for nothing. So why was he even there? He wasn't that bad of a fell? At least he hoped he wasn't.

"The boss is giving you a mission. Your usurper was found outside of your au. Go after him." He then left with the child and the ghost. Probably to find his own lover who was another fell. Weird. Or to find the walking armor that was Templar. He didn't know what to feel about him. So Spector looked at the dark sky and blurry moon before waiting for the fire to extinguish on his own.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

His feet stayed firm on the snow, betraying not even the faintest of a sound. The Red of his outfit stays undefined in the darkness and the red lighting of an underfell au. It wasn't his own though. Not everything was so stark in color. Everything was so painfully vibrant it actually hurt his eyelights a bit. So in a way it made the white felt doll Tear easy to pinpoint. He was so muted against the contrast of pure darkness and blood red. His only mission was to go after him, what it meant wasn't something he cared for. He didn't ask for more details so he won't be punished for doing exactly as he was told. Well it depends on the day really.

Spector looked around trying to recognize the sound against the darkness. It was driven into his mind like melted metal. The sound of glass in pure heat as it forms into a new shape. That's the sound of the multiverse healing. As he followed the sound for a few steps he located the fracture again. His home was right there, the muted white snow with so much light you could swear it was daylight. He missed it, he missed his brother's cooking and the pist off look of everyone. At least they were violent in an understandable way. Not like the Dust he was stuck with. He made a bone appear and broke the multiversal glass to keep it open for a few more minutes. Before going back to the solitary ghost. At least before the red shadows of Underfell woke up.

On his way back he stayed in the black color to not be seen, he wasn't ready. How dare this useless weeping doll take his place, he doesn't even like condiments like any other sans. He eats snow like a child... Spector breaths in and out before getting ready to calm his voice. "Tear Sans."

The person in question turned his head towards the shade of black he was hiding behind. And immediately started to apologize, dear everything how did he survive in his au? He is just like Frisk and that coward of a flowey. Dear angels please get him away from this. He breathed out again before leaving his hideout. "You know what no amount of wanting to be tough is worth it. Just follow me." Spector didn't give him much of a choice as he took his wrist and forced him to follow.

This Tear Sans was way smaller than him and Spector was small himself. Could have been bitty really, or a child depending. "You aren't going to keep Papyrus waiting."

"You know Papy?" Spector looked back half offended and kind of befuddled. He only had the presence to let go before clenching his fist. He was never able to call his brother less than Boss. Well at least in front of the others. At least not before his Frisk made him change his mind. But never Papy, that was the line.

"You lucky son of a felt, you get to take my place and have a deeper, more fluffy relationship with my own brother?" Is he laughing? He doesn't even know anymore but he just as heck needs to burn something. So he kicks the snow and breaks the hole to his home even more. The sound of glass shattering makes him feel more hollow and empty as it goes on. "Look, forget about me and go meet ..Papy! As you get to call him."

Spector stops fuming when tears float to take the shape of a dapper hat on his own head. "I call it the dapper fell. Do you like it?" Did this fluffy piece of cloth actually try to comfort him? Spector checked his cheekbones to meet tears. At least Tear got to cry in ways that could help.

"Yeah, it's nice, wish I could keep it." He dried his eyes feeling worse that he couldn't make a pun about it. He had no right judging Tear, he wasn't much of a Sans himself.

He then felt cloth around his neck and the faint smell of lasagna. Spector looked down and saw one of his brother's scarves. "He told me to give you this if I ever met you."

Spector chuckled and for once he was actually happy. He hugged cloth and felt with all his heart as he for once felt pure joy at the idea forming in his head. He wasn't replaced because he did matter in a way.

"You okay?" Wait he was hugging Tear. He never pushed someone away from him so fast.

"Yup, all good, here." He pushed a bottle of mustard in his hand. "I know you don't drink that stuff. I just want to also give him a gift. Now please go. I can't keep breaking your only way home." He pushed Tear inside the hole. And like if the multiverse itself was done with the fluff it closed right after.

A voice from mulch and decay went through his ear canal. "Spector" looked back ready to be punished for being way too kind and hurting Limos’ precious role. But he was met with a lazy shrug. "You might want to hide the scarf. You know Herald won't like seeing it." Spector looked down before wrapping around his waist under his hoodie. The hand wrapping around his shoulder smelled like moldy bread, disgusting. And they fell into the portal under their feet.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Credits

Tear Sans: @eriscary

Spector: me

Underfell: don't know if someone made a specific one made of abstract colors and shapes. But here's for Underfell. @underfell

Limos Nightmare Sans: Me

Herald (Murder/Dust) Sans: Me

Harbinger Frisk: Me

Banshee Papyrus: Me

Dusttale: @ask-dusttale

[mlys05]

[starryknight-dragonarts]

Over October I made a bunch of Pokemon versions of some classic Characters from English Gothic Horror: Victor Frankenstein, Count Dracula, Jekyll and Hyde... A little late to the party but I say let the Spooky Season Continue! Day of the Dead is in November, the days are getting darker and colder, and the Wild Hunt Persists through to the Winter Solstice hollering through the sky in pursuit of their spectral prey!

If Vampires are the Nobles of the Undead there is still one higher, The King...Tonight is for the Mummies! Theoretically almost any pokemon could be a Mummy, the Egyptians mummified thousands of Animals as well as Pharaohs and Nobles; From Cats and Dogs to Crocodiles, Baboons, Birds, etc...but I decided to bring back a familiar character. Ozymandias the Lucario. Ozymandias' name comes from a poem which uses the the Greek version of Pharaoh Ramesses II, and Lucario is based on Anubis the God of Funerary Rites and Mummification, so it felt just too ideal to make a Lucario named after an Pharaoh the representative for the Mummy, albeit more along the rehydrated variety than the husk variety, but there is precedent to that in English Literature with there being many stories of Mummies coming back looking as they did before they died and having strong opinions about the future world they have woke up into. Ozymandias certainly has some strong opinions about this world.

(I also took some inspiration form: Madara Uchiha - Naruto Lord Pain - Naruto Dio - Jojo's Bizarre Adventure Kars - Jojo's Bizarre Adventure Seto Kaiba - YuGiOh and Demon King Ganondorf - The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom)

Ozymandias was born to an era of seemingly endless Wars and Chaos between the Legendaries and Yaldabaoth the Usurper and his Dark Forces. In order to survive the onslaught of destruction you needed to be strong, but Ozymandias strove beyond just survival and strength, he fought to establish a land of security and order amongst the chaos and save as many pokemon as possible. By his own effort he became The King of Kings mighty and righteous ruling the greatest empire the world had yet seen, though it came at great personal cost to him including the life of his young daughter Princess Anapi who fell ill while he was away.

Ozymandias firmly believes Rulership should not belong to those who desire power, Rulership is a sacrafice that demands of the leader to constantly fight themself to be greater than themself, but this has lead him to sees the faults and impurities in everyone else around him, and believe that no one else is qualified to be incharge and that it's his duty to take charge and will lead people to overcome their earthly flaws whether they want it or not.

By the end of his life he was laid to rest in a great tomb alongside his daughter, becoming a mummy so he could rest but his spirit would inhabit his temple and offer his wisdom to his successors through the ages till he may rise again revitalized and immortal to lead the world again to a new prosperous age, But following his death Yaldabaoth was finally sealed by the Legendaries and his existance was erased from the memories of pokemon. While Ozymandias was remembered as a great king the context for his rule was lost, and so was part of his legacy, so he never got to pass on his Wisdom.

The world he woke up to, he was not very impressed with, he believes this current world is corrupt and weak, a problem he plans to rectify... An old Absol called Tezoca the Hierophant found him and offered him a role familiar to organization from his era which withstood time by the allowance of the Legendaries; The Major Arcana, a group founded as spies to undermine Yaldabaoth in his era, now they were guardians to protect the world from his return. Fittingly Ozymandias was given the Tarot card of "The Emperor" and he joined with other members in the Major Arcana becoming known as the 7 Heavenly Virtues, representing the Virtue: Chastity, not because he has specifically sworn off Sex specifically though is not particularly interested in anybody sexually...more like he values self discipline. "Ones with this virtue are unhindered by worldly desires. They are able to overcome temptation and show self-discipline not through lack of being tempted, but rather of making the conscious decision to better yourself rather than do what you know is morally wrong." However despite representing Virtues and their initial reputation as heroes they soon became feared! Ozymandias doesn't care though, he is determined to make a better world he rules regardless of what pokemon think of him.

[higherentity]

[anatee]

Work of Art | Marc Spector x Reader x Steven Grant | 18+

I may make a second part to this.

Word count: 2.9K

Content warning: f!reader x Marc & Steven (focus on Marc); mentions of violence, blood and wounds but nothing too crazy; a few curse words; smut: oral (f receiving), handjob (m receiving)

Steven: On my way! I'll grab us a few snacks for afters.

A big smile graced Y/N's face as she read the text from her boyfriend. It's been a few days since she saw him, constantly busy with work, and there were no appropriate words to describe how much she missed him.

As soon as she got the message, she jumped into the shower, wanting to be nice, clean and fresh for his arrival. She heard the door of the apartment open while she was wiping herself with the towel, and she simply could not wait any moment longer. She wrapped the towel around herself and came out of the bathroom like this, smiling from ear to ear as she walked towards the living room.

"Hi, Steven, love! I was preparing us dinner, it's almos re..." She bumped into the man walking out from behind the corner, then looked up, and one look was enough to let her know it was not Steven in front of her. "Marc."

It sure was him. She could judge it just by the look in his eyes, and he was not happy.

"Marc," he repeated with a raspy voice, as if to confirm she was right. He was breathing heavily, and she could tell by how he clenched his jaw that something bothered him.

"What happened?" she asked in shock, taking a step back so as to see him better.

"A bit of trouble on the way." He shrugged, then raised an eyebrow at her. "Why? You're not happy to see me?

Y/N rolled her eyes. As much as she loved both of them, getting along with Marc was sometimes a bit of a challenge. Feisty one, he was, but then again - it was a part of his charm. Just not one she was expecting while waiting for Steven.

"You know that's not the case." She put her hand on his cheek, then looked him up and down and finally noticed his bloody knuckles. "You're hurt."

He immediately turned to walk back into the living room. "It's nothing."

"Didn't you put on the suit?" she asked with a sigh, following him still just in the towel.

He shook his head, avoiding her judgemental gaze. "There was no time. Steven didn't want to give up the control, he almost got ourselves killed."

She grabbed him by the wrist and took a look at his knuckles, then shook her head. "Both of you are irresponsible."

"Hey, I took care of it, okay?"

"Yeah, I see. With blood."

"I'll be fine."

"Spare me the bullshit and sit your ass down, Spector." She grabbed him by the arm and forced him to sit down on the couch. He didn't look too happy about it, but didn't fight her.

"You would never say that to Steven."

Jealous. He always was.

"Yeah, because Steven would let me patch him up," she bit back as she began walking to the bathroom again, and for the first time, Marc's fury died down a little... And he noticed his surroudings. He realised that all this time, she had just a towel around her - and probably nothing else underneath.

He swallowed, his mind immediately wandering away from the thoughts of the fight he just had, and walking elsewhere... To the body he had not seen yet.

The relationship was still partly fresh. Y/N did not mind that dating Steven - whom she met first - was a package deal, for he shared the body with Marc, but they were very different people, and wanted different things out of a relationship - and they were at different stages. However, neither Steven nor Marc had seen the body of their lover yet. And although they both wanted it, Steven would never dare ask; Marc, on the other hand...

She came back to him with a few things, this time wearing a bathrobe, but it did not fool Marc. He highly suspected she was still naked underneath it; her absence was too short. She wouldn't have had the time to put something on...

"Don't stare like that."

Marc turned his head to see Steven as a reflection in the glass coffee table and swallowed.

"I'm not," he mumbled quickly.

"What?" Y/N asked, and Marc turned his attention to her immediately.

"Nothing." He swallowed again, looking her up and down. That bathrobe was short, showing more of her legs than he'd ever seen, and boy, was that a view to enjoy.

"Okay, let's fix this." She sighed as she picked up the disinfectant she brought.

"Y/N, I can..."

"Can what?" she cut him off as their eyes met, then let out a sigh. "Marc, I am not even asking more about what happened. Just let me take care of you, okay?"

"But this is..." he began.

"Marc. Let her."

Steven's voice did it. Marc's aggressive attitude disappeared and he eventually let himself calm down. He glanced at Steven, and he seemed to really want Marc to get along with Y/N better. To Spector's surprise, he wasn't even asking for control - he just cheered on him.

Marc let out a sigh, then turned back to her and eventually let down his defences.

"Sorry," he said quietly, not meeting her gaze. "I know you want to help. Sorry."

She sighed as well, letting herself calm down, too. She knew it was difficult for him. Marc was a bit aggressive at times, but she did find herself being a bit rougher on him than she was on Steven. They were even.

"It's fine." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, too. I just worry, that's all."

"Okay, okay."

An awkward silence followed as Y/N dipped a gauze in the disinfectant, then grabbed Marc's wrist ever so gently. She began cleaning his knuckles with great focus, trying to be as delicate as possible. He felt an unpleasant stinging sensation, but didn't even flinch, letting her do her job. His eyes wandered again; while she was bent over his hand, some of her cleavage was showing, and it was getting more and more difficult not to notice it.

He shook his head, then looked back at his knuckles, which were being cleaned as gently as though made from fine china.

"You're being very gentle with me."

"I'm not Khonshu," she said with a soft smile, making them both chuckle slightly.

"I actually... Kind of like it. You taking care of me, that is."

She looked up at him, smiling slightly, and that smile made his heart race. When his anger was gone, the world seemed completely different, and his feelings for her were growing.

"Is this why you keep getting in trouble?"

"Maybe?"

She giggled, and he smiled, clearly proud of himself. He glanced at Steven - he was smiling, too, the tension from before all gone.

"I can take care of you in other ways, you know?" she said, still cleaning his knuckles. "Like today, I made dinner for you, me, Steven..."

"It's different. You don't touch me when you make dinner."

She looked up at him, this time giving him her full attention. "And you like my touch this much?"

Marc swallowed, weighing his words. He didn't mean to sound like a jealous freak.

"You must admit you're mostly gentle to Steven."

"Well, it must be because of the charm." She looked back at his knuckles. "The Brits practically invented charm."

"And Americans?"

She tried to stifle her laugh as she looked back at him. "And Americans landed on the Moon."

Surprisingly, Marc laughed, too. "Touche."

"But in all seriousness, Marc, it's not because I don't like you or anything. I just... I figured Steven likes the gentle treatment, and you don't."

"Well, sometimes, but..." He sighed. "Steven exists because I never had the gentle treatment. I had to make him up to get it."

Y/N let go of his hand, and looked him in the eye with guilt all over her face.

"I... Never thought it about like that." She looked down. "You're right. You need that more than anything... Oh, Marc," she whispered, then hugged him quickly before returning to cleaning the other parts of his arm that were stained with blood.

After a few seconds of silence, she laughed quietly to release the tension. "Well... At the very least, some scars are sexy."

"Oh?"

"That does not mean I want you to have more!" she said immediately, knowing full well Marc might take her words as an invitation. He just laughed, his eyes wandering to her cleavage once again.

"You are looking... Quite sexy yourself today."

Her eyes widened as she set the dirty gauze aside. She knew Marc was braver, yet somehow this bold compliment still surprised her. It seemed to have moved something in her, warmth spreading through her quickly as she met his gaze.

"Am I?" she leaned a bit closer, smiling at him sweetly, and it was enough for Marc.

He grabbed her by the hips and kissed her passionately, with so much force she felt herself melt into the couch. He took her breath away, and she did not mind one bit.

"Whoa," she panted, looking at him after he broke off the kiss, feeling like she had never felt before after one, "you sure know how to sweep a girl off her feet."

Marc cupped her face in both his hands, watching her cheeks redden.

"Why does Steven like being in the museum so much... When we have a work of art at home?"

She could feel herself melt at these words. Who would have thought Marc could be this charming?

There was a moment of silence, before the tension became too much to bear.

Y/N felt her back hitting the back of the couch again, and her hands being raised above her head. No words were spoken; they didn't need them.

Marc's mouth found hers, hot and needy, and they both kissed back with equal enthusiasm.  Any coldness disappeared irreversibly in a few seconds, heated by their bodies, over which they ran their hands unconsciously, as if they wanted to touch every inch, explore it with their own fingertips, leave their mark on them...

They didn't think of anything, they couldn't;  the memories of their little disagreement completely blurred, they gave in to the emotions that had been in the air from the very beginning.  Having gained superhuman strength from adrenaline, Y/N tore Spector's shirt with a few movements, and he eagerly threw it off. Freeing his hands from the sleeves, he placed them on the hips of his girl, who could hear her own heartbeat in her ears. Without breaking away from him, she wrapped one leg around his hips, and this stimulated the only thought in Marc's head that he could muster at that moment: getting to the bedroom.

He grabbed her thigh, encouraging her to wrap her other leg around him. She did so unconsciously, and once she did, Marc lifted her up, heading straight for the nearest room - her room.

He threw the door open and licked her lip. She almost lost her breath and didn't even have time to regain it before he fell onto the bed with her.

"Do you want this?" he whispered, taking her face in one hand.  It was then that they both really realized what had happened... And they didn't want to stop.

Y/N felt as if she were lying on hot sand, feeling the fluffy blanket that covered the bed beneath her. All she wanted was to get out of her bathrobe.

"Yes," she confirmed, breathing heavily, but not taking her eyes off of his, which were boring into her. He watched as her chest rose and fell rapidly, her cleavage almost fully exposed to him.

"Take this bathrobe off," she ordered, making Marc visibly shudder.

"Your wish," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her neck, "is my command."

Her body was perfect, or so Marc thought as he eyed it as he tossed her bathrobe to the floor.  The skin was enveloped in a soft light coming from the window that highlighted every curve and bulge, as if emphasizing them on purpose so that Marc wouldn't miss them.

He wasn't going to; he admired it thoroughly, like one of the works Steven enjoyed so much, and was surprised that no one had ever made a painting with her in the main role.

For some reason, Y/N wasn't at all embarrassed by his gaze, which he liked even more. He felt like he could stare at her like that for hours, but that wasn't where either of them were going. She knew she could trust him; no matter how aggresive Marc could get while protecting people, he would never hurt her, just like Steven.

"You're like a painting," he admitted to her, cupping her face in one hand as he held her with the other just above her.

"Am I?" she asked with a laugh, then surprised him by suddenly rising to a sitting position. "And you're like a sculpture," she whispered, running her hands over his hot torso and stopping them on the waistband of his trousers. "And it so happens that today they took down the do not touch sign in the museum..."

She had barely finished the last sentence when she covered his mouth with hers again, forgetting about the whole world.

Letting him do whatever he wanted with her mouth, she began to struggle with his pants, unable to unzip them properly.

"How many more zippers do you have, Spector?" she whispered between kisses.

"Too hard for you?" Marc asked, laughing and not breaking away from her. "Is this your first time doing that?" he added, placing his hands on her hips.

"You rascal..." she choked out, trying to sound furious, but failed, because at the same moment one of Marc's hands landed on her chest. "Now I'll show you..."

The sudden rush of pleasure and adrenaline made her stop struggling. She ripped open the zipper and immediately began to pull his pants down to his knees where he was kneeling.

"Get up," she ordered, resting her forehead against his and looking at him with what Marc was ready to describe as fire in her eyes.

"No, you get up," he replied determinedly.

"You have nothing left to take off of me. Get up." She grabbed his hips, encouraging him to stand up, but he stopped her.

"Oh, baby, I'm not Steven," he whispered, then moved his lips to her jaw and then lower, constantly running his hands over her breasts. She stopped struggling, allowing herself to enjoy the waves of pleasure that coursed through her naked body as Marc kissed, licked and bit the delicate skin of her neck.

Y/N didn't want to give him the satisfaction, but she couldn't keep herself from making any sounds for long. Marc was starting to get bored of her neck, so he began to move lower, creating a trail of kisses that reached one of her breasts, then even lower, to her stomach, and finally to her thighs...

"Holy shit...!" she exclaimed, grabbing the blanket she was sitting on. She spread her legs wider, allowing Marc's head between them. Y/N shuddered when she felt Spector's breath on her clit... And then his lips.

"Fuck, the first guy who knows where a woman has her cl... Oh, for the love of Khonshu... "

She was unable to form any coherent sentences for the next few minutes. She was shaking with pleasure, clutching the blanket so tightly that her own nails digging into her palm hurt.

Just when Y/N thought she was going crazy, Marc suddenly withdrew. He did it on purpose;  he didn't want to end it all so quickly.

"You just didn't..." she said, looking incredulously at Spector, who straightened up in front of her.

A mischievous laugh left his lips and he wiped his lip with his thumb.

"I just did," he said with satisfaction, then looked at the window, where Steven was watching both of them. "Steven, you like the view?"

And although Steven was all red in the face, he nodded, and wanted Marc to continue.

"See? Steven enjoys the view just as much as I do..." Marc smirked. "And we will both give you pleasure, Y/N."

She smiled. It was one thing to be desired by one man, but two? And both of them shared the most incredible body...

A moment later, Marc was also completely naked and stood in front of the bed, waiting to see what she would do. Y/N walked to stand right in front of him, immediately placing her hands between his legs.

"Now you'll get the taste of your own medicine, Spector..." she announced, moving her hands.

"Will I?" he asked, then suddenly cleared his throat as she moved even closer to him.

"I won't let you enjoy it until the end either..." she said, and then started to repay him for the previous few minutes with no less enthusiasm. Marc didn't even have anything to hold onto to help himself survive the rush of emotions and heat that he felt as her hand moved along his cock. He held her arms, squeezing them as Y/N hit the perfect spots.

The feelings from a moment ago immediately began returning to her, flowing from head to toe. She liked it, but she was also impatient; she didn't want to wait any longer.

"Enough of this," she said, taking a step back. "You can do whatever you want to me now," she added, walking backwards onto the bed, where she finally lay down, and then spread her legs.

Marc's heartbeat accelerated dangerously - but he didn't need her to repeat.

"Gladly."

[twixnmix]

Darlene Love and Phil Spector during a recording session for the album "A Christmas Gift for You from Phil Spector" at Gold Star Studios in Hollywood, 1963.

Photos by Ray Avery

[caveguy22]

Phil Spector is literally a fly

[jellhound]

after failing unicorn school, spector picks up guitar! he ends up really good at it due to playing it as a way to cope with his negative emotions. he makes songs about how he feels, so he ends up turning his sadness and frustrations into lyrics.

[meshumo]

Shocked? Worried? Scared?

[downthetubes]

Jake Lynch pays tribute to a 2000AD legend with this week's issue of the Galaxy’s Greatest Comic, Prog 2429, on sale now, as his cover homages the late Steve Dillon's classic work for the Galaxy's Greatest