#{ .003 }

[craveheart]

M. if you love me, you don’t love me in a way i understand. / @serendpitous

SUMMER IS FOR THEM , WINTER IS FOR US. it's an understanding for belly and i. an understanding that we both have turned into a quiet tradition , it's not snowing this winter but outside the WINDS pick up. a fire going as we sit on the couch and quietly absorb each others time.

it had fit so perfectly , and as i look at her i see her reading a volume of poetry. i smile , and i then return to a research paper. pen in my mouth , and highlighter in my hand. the FINAL year of medical school ... i'm getting by , it's manageable and there's the 'POP' of a log as it settles.

in truth my limbs have always been too long for this couch , though i can't quite to seem to give up sharing space with belly. making room for belly was so comfortable , came so naturally , and even IF we split the couch and numbness enters i'll never complain.

' you're gonna overdose on poetry belly ' as she quotes richard silken , the words somewhat muffled by the pen caught between my teeth. i can't help but smile over at her as research paper is put on my lap , and i go to take off my glasses.

' c'mere ' i then move my body , ' i need a break ' she understands (she always has). as she goes to give me a smile that i swear melts my goddamn heart every single time. putting everything aside as i make room for her. the numbness subsiding as her body sits against mine. her legs intertwine with my own as i hold the book for the BOTH of us.

i make room for her as her head settles in my chest and i smile down at her , ' now if you're gonna overdose it MAY as well be in -my- arms ... we should then talk about what we want for dinner after. '

[loneheirs]

M. why are you such a pessimist ?

❝ why are you such a pessimist ? ❞ / @pistoiet

IPAD passed off in his direction as the screen illuminates an interesting article , an article that seems more than suspicious. bruce reads the introduction , eyes scan a quote that the writer insists came from bruce wayne's own lips. brow furrowing slightly as an index finger scrolls the touchscreen. ' perhaps last year i would've sounded pessimistic ... though this ? ' his eyes leave the screen as he peers down at her , ' this seems planted ' his tone unimpressed , and he shrugs shoulders. ' words used by others to weaponize ' the words wreathed in exhaustion as his gaze then shifts to the gotham skyline. the space obnoxiously filled with nothing but ads that run in a constant rotation on neon billboards as they advertise VR , sleeping medication , and ACE chemicals.

' it's easy to make me the enemy ... i don't blame them for their actions - perhaps they've been bought , sofia falcone hiding her numbers in plain sight ' bruce then tears his eyes away from the skyline , and looks back down at iPad. ' it's no secret she blames me somehow for her fathers death , the whole city knows that the riddler missed his intended target the first time , and then went to kill her father ... the rat , perhaps my death would've been enough for the riddler '

i've thought about that very idea more times than i can count , that perhaps my death would've ended it all - bruce wayne the sacrificial lamb offered up to gotham. it's no secret that gotham runs through my very veins , that i feel her heartbeat , and the tight hold that she has upon my neck. i can't escape ... they won't let me. if i could die a hundred times that wouldn't ever be enough. i am the problem , no was the problem. or am i still ? that question haunts me more than she could possibly know. her eyes are watching me , as if waiting for my mask to slip. i catch myself , and i walk away from her side.

' we could track the writer down but ? i'd already know that they did it for their own reasoning ... selfish or not - it's freedom of speech '

[batfall-moved]

                        ‘   you   said   they   were    safe   here  ’   

                                        * )    [   𝚏𝚘𝚛   @exilae​  𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚝.   𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎  ]  

[cezarcomz]

Talvez uma das memórias mais frescas que tinha em sua cabeça era do rosto de @solomondin​​, até por ter lembranças claras de qualquer coisa pré-acampamento. E tinha certeza que sua amizade não tinha se findado quando crianças e que ele também deveria estar naquele acampamento, pois vinha uma memória específica de um rosto adulto que sabia ser dele e alguma espécie de treinamento com armas (essa parte era uma incógnita, porque raios Cézar tinha uma foice nessa lembrança). Também tinha uma memória como se sentisse afagos do amigo em sua cabeça, mas pensar nisso deixava Cézar desconfortável, como se fosse resultado de algum sonho que devesse ficar bem escondido. De qualquer forma, suas suspeitas foram confirmadas e agora se encontrava numa animação enorme enquanto aguarda no banheiro do chalé de Odin. Solomon foi um personagem presente na falsa vida de seu subconsciente, então tomou toda a intimidade para emprestar um barbeador e tentar reduzir um pouco dos pelos da sua cara. Se cortou diversas porque zero habilidade e pela distração, já que estava tentando ensaiar o que dizer, como dizer, se ele estaria diferente, se lembraria de Cézar, será que dá para abraçar ou isso é gay demais? Com esse tempo que passou, talvez a memória de Kane seja presente na mente de Cézar, mas não o contrário. Mas enfim chegou a hora, quando finalmente ouviu o barulho de alguém entrando e coisas sendo jogadas no chão. Respirando fundo, saiu do banheiro e gritou com os braços abertos “Olha quem tá v.. Caralho ce ta um armário” ok, não estava preparado para o impacto. Cézar conseguiu criar barba e ter os cabelos grisalhos, mas Solo, sem palavras. Recobrou a postura “Vivo, eu ia dizendo. Olha quem ta vivo. Espero que ainda lembre de mim, senão isso vai ser ainda mais constrangedor”

[sythegun-aa]

ENTRY   .   04     sometimes i think i'm just not good for people, you know, that it's not good for them to be around me.  /  @thefixer

          IS  THIS  THE  TONE  FOR  THE  NIGHT  ?   Jackson  nods  as  she  talks,  he  can  RELATE  to  Mia,  and  god  knows  he’s  got  ENOUGH  self-deprecation  for  the  both  of  them.  Coffee  settles  and  he  deeply  sighs,  the  clubhouse  long  gone.  Replaced  by  some  makeshift  coffee  joint,  and  Jackson  knows  that  what  they  feel  is  HEAVY.  They’re  entitled  to  that  feeling,  and  now?  Mia  is  STEWING  in  self-hatred.  ‘  What  do  you  want  me  to  say?  ’  Tonality  calm  as  he  looks  into  her  eyes  and  a  hand  reaches  for  hers  across  countertop,  ‘  If  we’re  doing  THIS  . . .  I  dunno  if  I  can  tonight  ’  HEAD  aches,  and  bones  are  weary.  YES,  what  they  do  is  dark,  and  ugly.  Yet?  They’ve  accepted  that  fact,  and  now  ---  NOW  all  they  can  do  is  find  happiness  where  they  can.  Should  he  feel  guilty  about  the  love  he’s  found  ?  That  mere  WEEKS  ago  he  had   killed  a  man  who  had  children  and  a  wife  waiting  at  home.  That’s  the  luck  of  the  draw,  that  man  had  ALSO  made  the  decision  to  get  into  CRIME,  and  with  that  came  the  nagging  notion  that  DEATH  was  a  moment  away.  

                  ‘ You   got  me  baby,  I’m  not  GOIN’  anywhere  . . .  christ  I  can  barely  manage  to  leave  this  world  as  it  is  ’  MORBID  humor  as  lips  tug  the  slightest  bit  upwards,  and  at  last  his  hand  covers  hers  and  he  gives  it  a  gentle  squeeze,      ‘  We’ve  never  been  EASY  have  we  ?  ’     LIPS  tug  upwards  once  more  as  he  continues  conversation,  ‘  Maybe  that’s  why  we  found  one  another  . . .  we  don’t  have  to  apologize  for  what  we  do,  WHO  we  are  ’  voice  low  as  he  continues  to  stare  into  her  eyes,  ‘  MAYBE  that’s  alright  Mia                we  don’t  go  lookin’  for  people’s  lives  to  FUCK  up   it  just  happens,  people  know  what  they  walk  into  when  they  commit  to  a  life  of  crime  or  being  a  FUCK  ’  SHAKES  head  as  he  clears  throat,  ‘  Nah  I’m  not  sorry  about  it  . . .  I’m  too  busy  to  spend  time  mourning  for  people  that  I’ve  killed  ’  HONEST  as  morals  hit  a  sort  of  GREY  area.  

                       ‘  Some  of  them  had  it  comin’    ,  some  just  thought  that  their  bad     SHIT    would  never  catch  up  with  them  ’ Somewhere the  town  clock  hits 2 AM and  he  lets  go  of  her  hand  as  he  reaches  behind  him  for  leather  KUTTE,  ‘  That’s  where  we’re  different  from  some  people  we  KNOW  that  shit  will  catch  up  with   us  . . .  happiness  for  us  is  FLEETING  ’  stands  as  arms  make  their  way  into  kutte,  and  he  reaches  for  phone  that’s  lying  on  table,  ‘  C’mon  let’s  go  home,  I  wanna  lay  in  a  bed  with  you   and  hold  your  body  close  to  mine  before  I  wake  up  to  the  SHIT  I  have  to  deal  with  tomorrow.   ’ 

[myentropy]

when the door opens the relief colors fugo’s eyes in brilliant vermilion and it looks almost painful. as if he never expected the door to open in the first place. “i’m sorry..” and whatever terror had fugo seized by the shoulders leaves him as he fixes himself upright. he still shakes from the cold, the rainfall hits into his back and seeps into the cotton of his pajamas. he’s wearing no shoes, he brought no slippers and fugo steps further back into the spotlight of his car’s headlights. 

water beads off the tip of his bangs and falls onto the front of his cheeks. fugo digs his hands into his eyes, and wipes it away, sniffling. unsure if he was crying or not.

“i just, i -wanted to double check...” words take residency in fugo’s throat and he can’t speak. already one step closer to his car than before, he continues to ease himself back out underneath the torrential downpour,  “that you were still here, and not...” pause. “gone.” he can’t say dead, he won’t say dead. 

"i should get back...this was stupid..mista..giorno...they’ll expect me to be up in the morning..with papers..i meet sheila for breakfas-”

“ @tradittore ” - hahah ecto, ahhaha chloe.exe has stopped responding.

[jacofart]

Pen and ink in 4 x 6 inch space. Rise of the Guardians fanart.

Check out my etsy store to purchase artwork, prints and photography at JacOfArt.etsy.com.