[image id: a four-page comic. it is titled "immortality” after the poem by clare harner (more popularly known as “do not stand at my grave and weep”). the first page shows paleontologists digging up fossils at a dig. it reads, “do not stand at my grave and weep. i am not there. i do not sleep.” page two features several prehistoric creatures living in the wild. not featured but notable, each have modern descendants: horses, cetaceans, horsetail plants, and crocodilians. it reads, “i am a thousand winds that blow. i am the diamond glints on snow. i am the sunlight on ripened grain. i am the gentle autumn rain.” the third page shows archaeopteryx in the treetops and the skies, then a modern museum-goer reading the placard on a fossil display. it reads, “when you awaken in the morning’s hush, i am the swift uplifting rush, of quiet birds in circled flight. i am the soft stars that shine at night. do not stand at my grave and cry.” the fourth page shows a chicken in a field. it reads, “i am not there. i did not die” / end id]
a comic i made in about 15 hours for my school’s comic anthology. the theme was “evolution”
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i just think that leon could be railing tf you, like rearranging your guts and making you cry……... all while holding your hand and stroking your hair n stuff :(( yeah
A hot tear rolls down your cheek. You’ve never had him like this before. This hard. This rough. Leon has always been careful with you, but tonight, you asked him not to be. Looked up at him through your lashes and asked him to ruin you, as you’d put it.
And well, you’re getting what you asked for.
“You okay, pretty?” He says, gripping your hips hard as he pushes into you, hips landing flush against your ass. It’s a rhetorical question; he knows you’re enjoying this. He only made you repeat the safe word close to a dozen times before pinning you onto the bed and having his way with you. “This what you wanted?”
Your hands clutch onto the bedsheets for life, head impossibly hazy from how Leon has utterly abused your cunt for the past thirty minutes. Swiping over your clit with his thumb and pulling away when your thighs start to shake. Rutting into you hard and fast, but never keeping up the pace enough for you to climax.
It’s pain and it’s torture, but fuck it feels good.
He wraps a hand around one of your thighs, pushing it over his shoulder, eliciting a broken whine from you. He’s buried deeper inside you now, somehow. Stuffed like you’ve never known.
“N-Need to cum, Leon,” You look up at him, glossy eyed and pouting. “Please.”
“You’ll get to cum,” He grunts simply, lifting a hand to push some hair away from your face, his thumb tenderly stroking your temple. “You’re— fuck. You’re gorgeous like this.”
Truthfully, Leon wasn’t totally convinced by the idea. Fucking you until you cried, until you begged. But you’re clenching tightly around him, making the most wonderful sounds… you’re ruined. Ruined beautifully by the pleasure only he can grant you.
His free hand moves so he’s thumbing at your clit again, and you cry out at the pleasure shooting through your core. One of your hands moves from the sheets to clutch at his shoulder, but Leon is quick to envelop it in his own, lacing his fingers with yours and pushing your hand back against the pillow. You’re sure you’re squeezing it uncomfortably tight, but if you are, Leon doesn’t mention it.
And fuck, you’re crying again. You’re overwhelmed and overstimulated but somehow none of it is enough, your orgasm impending yet too far away with the game Leon seems to be playing.
This is what you wanted, after all. And well, you’re not complaining.
Upon seeing your cheeks wet and your eyes wide and blinking away tears, Leon leans down, never slowing his torturous ruts into your cunt as he presses his lips to the salty liquid on your skin.
“You’re taking this— mm, so well…” He utters against your cheek, hissing as you tighten around him. “So pretty getting fucked like this.”
His lips are soft and comforting, along with the hand that’s squeezing yours in reassurance.
When your eyes meet his, they’re heavy and dark. Plagued with desire and a thirst for your pleasure.
You don’t think this is the last time you’ll have Leon like this. It’s a thrilling thought.
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Derek teaching unknown werewolf societal/cultural facts to Stiles is cute, and I love that for them, truly, but I want to see the reverse.
We're always hearing about when someone (usually Stiles) asks a naive question about werewolves and Derek going "No, you idiot! It doesn't work like that!" As if it's common knowledge that everyone should know, when in reality there's no possible way Stiles (or any average person, for that matter) could know that.
And I'm sure in Derek's world, stuff like silver not actually being effective against werewolves is a no-brainer or spotting a Kitsune is laughably easy, but not to the common bystander.
So, instead, I'd love to see the random, human customs and social norms Stiles would find himself needing to explain to Derek when they start living together. Stuff that the human family members of his pack never displayed because they had been raised surrounded by werewolves their entire lives.
From all the small things like how, when you get a canker sore or lose a filling, you always gotta stick your tongue in it. ("No, we don't want to do it. It hurts like hell, actually. It's just something we do. Don't ask me why. I honestly couldn't tell you. It's the same with picking scabs or pressing down on bruises.")
Or like how you're not supposed to eat the weird, little black nub at the bottom of the banana. ("I don't care if it's composed of the exact same stuff as the rest of the banana, that's so fucking gross 🤢")
Or like how you have to walk around ladders instead of under them ("Because otherwise you'll get bad luck, Derek!")
Or how, for a short time in history, a man wearing a singular earring on his left ear meant that he was gay for some reason. Or was it the right ear? ("Hey, listen, man, I didn't make these dumb rules!")
Or how you can't pick up a penny off the ground unless the face side is heads up ("Yes, it's another 'good luck, bad luck' thing. We actually have a lot of those, now that I think about it.")
Or how if someone far away sees you coming and holds the door open for you, you very specifically have to do a customary tiny wave or acknowledging nod before doing a small little half trot-half jog that isn't too slow or too fast all the way to the door. ("Because you don't want to take up their time, but also you don't want them to think they've inconvenienced you. Yeah, no, I get that they already have, but you don't want THEM to know that.")
All the way up to things like the weird history of Coke Zero, even though Diet Coke is essentially the same thing. ("Oh, now see, that's actually pretty interesting. And by interesting, I mean dumb and terrible. See, in the 80's, Coke only ever marketed Diet Coke as a 'woman's drink', so when they finally decided to expand their demographic, they had to spend millions of dollars to undo their own conditioning because their women's only Diet Coke campaign had been so successful, it took decades for men to stop associating drinking diet soda with being gay or effeminate.")
Just so Derek can finally know what it feels like to be on the other end of "common sense."
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It’s kinda funny that Jason is, in every sense of the word, the most normal Robin. Unironically, there wasn’t anything uniquely special about him before he was Robin. He was a street kid. His dad was a goon (which makes sense for Gotham. It’s a goon breeding ground) and his adoptive mom was a girl who fell in love with the bad boy, got disowned by her upper middle class parents and adopted her boyfriend’s infant son. Even his biological mother isn’t anything special! She was just a doctor who ended up becoming corrupt.
Jason Todd was no circus kid who could do an impossible signature trick. He wasn’t being scouted by some evil hidden organization.
He wasn’t the rich boy genius who lived next door.
He’s not the son of a supervillain (as lame as cluemaster is, he still *counts*).
He’s not the secret son of Bruce Wayne.
And he’s not a metahuman, nor did he led a whole organization of teens to fight when Batman couldn’t.
He’s the most regular boy to ever enter become a hero in Gotham. He wanted to do good things for the sake of doing good. He grew up poor with regular parents, where bad things happened to them. The kinds of things that could happen to *any* person living in Gotham.
There is nothing about him, pre-Robin and as Robin, that makes him Not Like Regular Kids.
His dad was a goon (who, depending on the run, was either killed by Two-Face OR. Just sent to prison and killed in prison! Which makes his backstory even PLAINER-) and his mother was a drug addict with cancer. Jason ends up homeless, and almost steals the bat mobile tires. The only thing that makes him stand out from any other tragedy befallen kid in Gotham is the fact he was bold enough to do that, get Batman’s attention, and continue to be bold enough to go against a crime lord (who was apparently his grandmother, the most interesting person in his family, but since she’s almost never brought up, she’s likely no more significant than a one-issue villain in the crime lord power hierarchy). Batman realized that Jason wasn’t going to really stop, and honestly he kinda grew on him, so he decided to adopt Jason, and eventually allow him to become Robin.
There just isn’t anything amazingly special about his backstory. The few moments where something could have been done to make it more interesting (like his biological mother) but ended up taking the most boring option. You can’t do much of anything now to enhance his past without upsetting much more well established canon, and not without making people wonder “well if his grandmother was such a big name in crime, why hasn’t she been brought up before?”
Jason Todd was a wonderful Robin (providing that he actually has a writer who likes him). He has a golden heart, he’s the voice of reason. He’s everything that a Robin needs to be for Batman. But compared to everyone else, he was nothing special. In a way, his lack of Not Like Regular Kids makes him stand out in a much more subtle way.
As if someone asked the question “Do I need to be someone special to be Robin?” And the answer was “You don’t need to be someone special, you just need to be brave, like Jason Todd was.”
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