the muffled sounds come more often now, slipping through the pillow, turning into heavier breaths, broken now and then by quiet, low groans as the rhythm gradually builds. because it’s Neil. Neil, whose lips trace down his spine. whose hand finds Andrew’s, covering it when he grips the pillow like a lifeline. Neil, who leans in close and murmurs something quiet, soft and irritating right as Andrew’s body shudders for the last time: “Just like that.” who soothes him through it, hands steady on his trembling thighs, the one who would do anything just to hear those sounds again.

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thank you wikipedia for this really good image

a helpful mnemonic for everyone

Every time in yoga class when my instructor would say "now get into a prone position" I would think "ah yes on your pronis"

The best magicians don't reveal their tricks.

Kateaaron valentines wip from who knows when that I decided to resketch and color but not finish

My three girlfriends. And yes, they smoke weed.

🌞i luv oil pastels🌞🌞🌞

naja, don’t give the secunit cigarettes

do not. address it