#Jan writes

[janeelyakiri]

New chapter time!

Also old art of the pajamas and their pillow plush Lucy under cut!

@selfshippinglover

[jann-the-bean]

Warm

Fluffynightkiller week 2023

A small gust of chilly air blew past, causing Nightmare to raise his scarf to better cover his nose and mouth.

The last thing he needed was to get sick.

He had a gig coming up in two weeks, and he had no time for inconveniences.

It was the beginning of Autumn, the leaves had started to change with various hues of gold, reds, oranges, and even still green. The sun had begun to set a little earlier than before, leaving them with beautiful golden rays and pinkish purplish skies.

“Pink..” He whispered to himself. He couldn’t help but smile. The pink hue reminded him of his precious coffee boy. The blush that would cover his entire face when he was flustered and embarrassed.

Often times it would dust his cheeks on mornings after an affectionate night.

However, there was a time Nightmare wondered if Ccino would have a permanent blush on him with Killers suggestive comments.

Nightmare rolled his eyes as he continued his way to their flat.

Killer seemed to enjoy getting a rise out of him and Ccino. Seemed delighted with himself if he could manage to get a reaction.. especially if it involved blushing.

“Hm..” The violet skeleton hummed as he mused to himself.

Killer was one who didn’t blush often. At least that’s what Nightmare felt.

It was hard to get that man flustered or catch him off guard. But when it happened.. Killer had the most beautiful hue of red appear on his cheeks.

Nightmare knew the other would disagree. He always says “It’s just a common color..”

And even if red is a common soul color.. no one has the same shade of red that Killer has.

His is vibrant and bright.

He often had to remind Killer how much he liked his blush. It appears as the time has passed Killer had started to believe him.

Nightmare looked at his hand and remembered how their blushes felt against the palm of his hands.

Being half fire elemental meant he had a higher body temperature than most skeleton monsters, and was able to tolerate heat better than most. Such as being able to touch a hot plate without getting burned or feeling pain.

And yet..

He could feel the warmth of their blushes on his hands..

He never knew something so simple could bring him such happiness.

He talked to his brother about this, and Dream mentioned he experienced the same with Cross.

“Maybe it’s as if we’re feeling their love!”

Dreams voice resonated in Nightmare’s skull. He never believed in none sense like that but.. he would allow himself to believe that one.

Killer belongs to @rahafwabas

Ccino belongs to @black-nyanko

Nightmare belongs to @jokublog

Fluffynightkiller week @help-im-a-gay-fish

[ulysses-but-somehow-more-transer]

i find comfort in niches tiny spaces where my shoulders touch both walls between a rock and a hard place in forgotten corners of the land at the edge of a bell curve

[quotefeeling]

If you don’t fight for what you want, don’t cry for what you lost.

Jan Jansen

[murdrdocs]

stiles deserves road head fs

reader has hair long enough to tie back; MDNI 18+

there were times when you absolutely hated stiles' jeep.

it wasn't particularly fit for road trips, even without considering the unreliability of the engine and stiles' handiwork of duck tape temporarily keeping things together. compared to lydia's car for example, the seats were stiff and barely allowed for any sleeping room. leaving you sitting upright with your head resting against the window and knocking into the metal of the interior any time stiles' ran through a pothole.

but there were times when the truck had redeemable qualities, namely the lack of a center console.

sure, it would've been nice to have something to rest your hand on as you wrapped your mouth around stiles' cock. but really, beggars couldn't be choosers and in this scenario both you and stiles were beggars.

so stiles drives a little smoother, settling on the outside lane to leisurely cruise instead of being pressured by trucks bigger than his in the inside lane. and this way, he gets to enjoy your lips sliding up and down his cock, and you aren't facing the plausible threat of losing your grip on the seat next to stiles' thigh and hitting the floor.

it's as comfortable as you can get. one hand pressed into cracking leather with the other resting on stiles' thigh. your seatbelt more of a decoration than anything as it loops around your body in a way that allows you to kneel on the seat, your ass turned towards the window. stiles' has one hand resting on your back between the end of your sweatshirt and the beginning of your leggings. the other rests on the steering wheel, effectively opening his body up to your work.

the tape in the radio has long ended, leaving space for the music from stiles' lips to fill the area. the sound of his breathing, deep sighs nearly each time you went down. the sound of his grunts each time you came up and swirled your tongue around him.

he tries to praise you every so often, but stiles' brain can only handle so much stimulation. and focusing on the road while also focusing on you is all he can take, leaving him to utter unfinished sentences.

"doing so ..."

"jesus, you're so ..."

"mhm, right ... right t–"

your hair has been tied back since the first half hour of the trip, but between your intense sing-alongs and your less intense naps, only half of your hair remains in the tie, leaving stiles to push your hair back, holding it off of your face.

in an attempt to thank him without sacrificing his pleasure, you look up at him and smile as best as you can. but since your mouth is occupied, the look transfers mostly to your eyes.

you don't know what does it, but stiles glances down at you, stares into your eyes for less than a minute, and then grips your hair as his hips jerk up into your mouth, his foot slams down onto the gas pedal, and he cums right down your throat.

[inkskinned]

it is all chaos and entropy. the thing is that the chaos and entropy make it beautiful and lovely.

yes, it's true that nature and the universe are uncaring and unspecific, and that is terrifying. i have lived through some of the unfairness - i got born like this, with my body caving into itself, with this ironic love of dance when i sometimes can't stand up for longer than 15 minutes. i am a poet with hands that are slowly shutting down - i can't hold a pen some days. recently i found a dead bird on our front porch. she had no visible injuries. she had just died, the way things die sometimes.

it is also true that nature and the universe are uncaring and unspecific, and that is wonderful. the sheer happenstance that makes rain turn into a rainbow. the impossible coincidence of finding your best friend. i have made so many mistakes and i have let myself down and i have harmed other people by accident. nature moves anyway. on the worst day of my life she delivers me an orange juice sunset, as if she is saying try again tomorrow.

how vast and unknowing the universe! how small we are! isn't that lovely. the universe has given us flowers and harp strings and the shape of clouds. how massive our lives are in comparison to a grasshopper. the world so bright, still undiscovered. even after 30 years of being on this earth, i learned about a new type of animal today: the dhole.

chance echoing in my life like a harmony between two people talking. do you think you and i, living in different worlds but connected through the internet - do you think we've ever seen the same butterfly? they migrate thousands of miles. it's possible, right?

how beautiful the ways we fill the vastness of space. i love that when large amounts of people are applauding in a room, they all start clapping at the same time. i love that the ocean reminds us of our mother's heartbeat. i love that out of all the colors, chlorophyll chose green. i love the coincidences. i love the places where science says i don't know, but it just happens.

"the universe doesn't care about you!" oh, i know. that's okay. i care about the universe. i will put my big stupid heart out into it and watch the universe feast on it. it is not painful. it is strange - the more love you pour into the unfeeling world, the more it feels the world loves you in return. i know it's confirmation bias. i think i'm okay if my proof of kindness is just my own body and my own spirit.

i buried the bird from our porch deep in the woods. that same day, an old friend reaches out to me and says i miss you. wherever you go, no matter how bad it gets - you try to do good.

[heartorbit]

HAPPY NEWONDERHOY YEAR 🍡

[peridots-pixiwolf]

[Start ID. A redraw of the official icons of the ten named slugcats from Rain World, arranged in two rows: Survivor, Monk, Hunter, Nightcat, and Gourmand in the first, Artificer, Rivulet, Spearmaster, Saint and Enot/Inv in the second. Each is drawn in roughly the same pose as in the original art and fitted with speculative interpretations of their biology, and the second image is a “dead” version of this. For example, all ten have slug-like rhinophores in place of ears, cuttlefish-like colorful eyes with strangely-shaped pupils, cephalopod-like beak "teeth", expressive barbels or oral tentacles at the corners of mouths, spiny radulas, and the frilly mantle fringes of sea slugs, though otherwise their faces are squishy, simple and mammalian-shaped.

Cream-colored Survivor and yellow Monk both share triangular, bicolored spots matching their eyes (which are tan and brown, and two shades of blue, respectively), small, bumpy fringes, and relatively neutral looks on their faces. Defensive-looking Hunter is mostly a dull orange-pink, though their blobby fringe is a more violent red and their back is purple and marred with lumps. Nightcat is navy blue and flecked with dots of yellow and teal, their rolled rhinophores are a lighter blue, and their shading fractures into stars in some places. Gourmand is almost uniformly tan, their wide, very ruffly white mantle fringe bordered by a spray of white spots, and their beak sticks out from either corner of their smile. Primarily red Artificer, snarling, has yellow markings of multiple sorts, a prominent yellow dewlap and their characteristic dark scar taking out a chunk of its face. Rivulet is a darker blue than usual, with long barbels, red gills and rings, countershading, and a cheerful expression, sticking out their radula. Spearmaster is purple with orange accents, eyes and spots, a large fringe and spines down their back. Saint’s green caryophyllidia are marked by small, yellow diamonds, and their long, thin radula extends far below them. Enot is decorated with mottled red stripes, blue patches, yellow stars, and an uneven and almost cartoonish imitation of blush, though generally the same deep blue as Nightcat, a passive or almost slightly smug look on their face and their rolled rhinophores out to either side.

In the second image, nine of the slugcats’ eyes are crossed out, indicating that these are death icons. They look fairly the same, with mostly expression differences. Survivor is caught in the beginning of a threat display, a karma flower sprouts from Monk’s side, Hunter is burdened with overgrowing, purple and blue rot, Nightcat’s rhinophores are pinned back, and Gourmand looks mildly disheartened. For the final row, Artificer bites its radula between small plumes of smoke, Rivulet drops their expression, Spearmaster looks very startled, Saint looks almost entirely the same besides half-open eyes and their markings greater in number, and Enot grins confusedly. End ID]

If you'll excuse the unusually lengthy ID: the arena meme introduced by @pansear-doodles at long last after a nearly year-long wip status (or, rather, finished a month ago today to honor my own first time playing it!)

Design notes and shout-outs under cut! :]

The following people are some of those who’ve inspired my designs most since I started this eight months ago (or just inspired me to get a little weirder with slugcat biology), among many others for sure, and I thank them for it–but this is simply to bring attention to artists I find cool, and in no way an obligation to interact or anything :]

> @saturncoyote , @carpsoup , @charseraph , @gallusgalluss , @bitsbug , @dopscratch , and @0hmanit (and a special mention to dddeerbo and hunterlonglegs, who’ve since deactivated)!

Survivor: Surprisingly the hardest to pin down the colors for, since nothing with its sibling's palette seemed to match up right (I did have to add in a little blue somewhere for Monk, the beginning of making it clear how much I’m simply going based off of vibes for the colors of scug innards). I consider them, Monk and Gourmand to be part of the same gene pool of slugcats, and even possibly the same colony even if the latter isn't really related, so took a bit of Gourmand's coloring and fit them in with their inspiration: Goniobranchus verrieri. They serve as a bit of an introduction to my ideas of scug traits (i find it really fun how many people have thought to add so many silly sluglike fixtures of biology completely independent of me, buuut here I’m mostly talking about species variation), and like in-game they’re pretty average! They, Monk and Hunter have a couple scars sourced from a piece of Joar's concept art that I'm failing to find, those across the bridge of the nose, under the eyes, and across the rhinophores, respectively, and my Survivor interpretation features many on the back of the neck, as a result of survived lizard bites.

Monk: Their coloring is primarily based off the fact that I associate them with blue fruits, honestly, a bit because I was compelled to establish a familiarity with Rivulet, and lastly inspired by the spots of Goniobranchus kuniei (and geminus, less important to me as one of my characters is a kuniei instead, but more fitting). Between the yellow + blue and the circular marking in the center of their face, they’re meant to bear a little resemblance to an iterator that shares similarities with the characterization I’ve given them, and similar coding of her sibling can be seen on Survivor’s markings around the eyes. As both a “default” slugcat and one whose campaign I haven’t played, though, I can’t say I have much more to point out about em.

Hunter: The whole rot thing made for a really fun time drawing them, and while the color change on their back is a result of this, it’s also an excuse to relate them to Babakina festiva, arguably my favorite sea slug (mostly for sentimental purposes). And to Spearmaster, a fellow messenger slugcat, and it serves as a gradient between Hunter’s pink and the “traditional” color of Rot seen in the DLLs. Aside from their affliction, they’d actually be the plainest in terms of design, as they don’t have any patterns or quirks of body type, just the red + purple and strange lumps + possible malnutrition. I can’t remember if NSH had created them in particular or just...caught + released or something, but it probably wouldn’t be strange for a lab-grown slugcat to be simple like that.

Gourmand: Like the two above, they’re rather plain in terms of coloring and adaptation, and like the two above, I find that fun. I decided it would be nice to avert the “all slugcats being of the same body type, and Gourmand’s out of place as the exception” thing by just...adding more fat to all of them, really. I did want to emphasize their sheer bulk even so, both fat and muscular (not like I couldn’t have still gone further with it, of course, but slugcat anatomy can be a little obfuscating sometimes, and they were intended to look rather plush considering personal size headcanons and therefore the lack of proper gravity), and the thick and flounced mantle looked like a good addition, as per their sea slug Glossodoris hikuerensis. Unlike Survivor and Monk, I didn’t attempt to hold their resemblance to any particular other character (which means a little less to balance out the “default gene pool” thing), so those are all the design notes I have for em.

Artificer: The second slugcat I’ve ever played, or finished the campaign of, my favorite for at least a long time, and the first thing I did was give them yellow accents, the shape of which have troubled me slightly (not quite like the spots or stripes of the others). They’re both a little more appealing and more explosive-looking to me, and considering how early on I played Arti, actually present in some of my older art. It does give them a little resemblance to Saint (completely intentional, two slugcats with strange relations to karma), as well as the fact that its radula is green for familiarity with one of its children (at some point it was going to have all-green markings, even!). I’m generous with their scars, partly because it was fun to overemphasize the one on their face and partly because it does seem like a reckless slugcat, on top of the dangers of its explosive abilities–I’ll probably just keep adding more forever. Mostly-red sea slugs aren’t too common, but Hexabranchus sanguineus works for sure. The ridged, yellow dewlap can expand for combustion purposes, or something along those lines. Arti’s where I began experimenting with a lot of the mildly-offkilter features seen in my interpretation of slugcats, as they’ve once again been a favorite from the start.

Rivulet: I've obviously given other slugcats spots, deeply enjoy the bubbly-soda markings of other peoples' slugcats, and thought seal riv would be cute. Despite not too closely resembling it, they've been government-assigned Hypselodoris bennetti, for color reasons and for a couple sentimental ones. Originally, the colors of every scug were meant to match up with the custom colors I gave them at the beginning of their campaigns, (though Arti, Gourm and Spearmy are the only three who actually apply here, since I've only played through half the slugcats: I gave arti the yellow as mentioned above, gourm brown eyes and spearmy light pink spears, furthered by the outskirts pearl accompanying me and that palette all the way to moon. Tolerance training for eternity in hell cause I already knew about the maroon pearl quest). I initially gave them the colors of the bi flag for fun... but with the limited palette of this image, I was left without pink for a while and decided to see how they'd look in red. I then realized how they now wonderfully matched Moon, and besides, red's a sort of camouflage in deep water! As a side-note, the difference between their eyes and those of others always bothered me a little for anatomical purposes, and the cephalopod eyes were probably influenced by this!

Spearmaster: Inspired as much as possible by @notyourfunnyman ’s wonderful spearmy: designed in a way that helps it fit in with scavengers, at least between the long sensory tentacles, big ruff, back spines and slightly thin/distended anatomy, a form of defensive mimicry. I always had annulate rhinophores in mind, for a little diversity sure, but mostly because the shape reminds me of radio antennae and communication towers (seems fitting for the comms array and being a messenger slugcat)! I started searching for a real-life slug to give them just by looking up their rhinophore shape...and was met immediately and coincidentally with annulate-topped nudibranchs that fit them more perfectly than I could've imagined: Flabellina and surrounding clades, I think Paraflabellina ischitana works very nicely. The orange was completely unplanned, but there wasn’t a place for light pink among the other slugcats’ palettes, and importantly it likens them to both Hunter and Seven Red Suns a little more.

Saint: I am very much a non-furred slugcat enjoyer, with respect to those who aren’t, so figuring out the only visibly furred slugcat was an interesting challenge. I’ve decided that they likely have other, milder adaptations for help in the cold, mainly just more efficient fat storage, and what looks vaguely like fur is instead a bunch of tubercles (called caryophillia, for the second reminder out of three). Their inspiration doesn’t have these, however, Miamira sinuata’s numerous yellow and blue spots (not to mention...whatever’s going on with that shape) and general effect of being the only really green nudibranch I could find were probably perfect for a strange green echo. Not pictured, but their beak-teeth are tiny and flat to make a surface for grinding soft food against with the lack of a functioning radula, which is tipped with a specialized spiny “grapple-hook” for better traction/grip (not to mention the numerous little teeth running down the whole thing).

(Best part of hiding this under a readmore means edits will be seen by all reblogs, I'm mostly sure, because I completely forgot to mention! The spots on their forehead are simple eyes. Their camera eyes appear closed in-game, I like to believe their complex eyesight is rather poor anyways or otherwise reason that they aren't seeing out of those, and while this was far from her REASON for attunement with the world, it does help compensate for mainly viewing it through a canvas of simple light and dark. This, and the fact that their swapped-out "fur" is not only to commit to a lack of hairs but contributes to sensory input!)

Nightcat/Enot: I guess you could say I found the “these two are technically the same person” compelling. (E.g. similar colors, both very strange and enigmatic, and Enot/Inv/Sofanthiel’s remark during the dating sim about getting removed from Arena Mode.) I doubt they’re the only two slugcats in their body, considering humans with DID tend to have more than a few (and I find it very funny that a slugcat bearing resemblance to Nightcat appears in Gourmand’s ending. They’re allowed in the colony and Enot isn’t </3), and I have to credit @faelingdraws ’s art for being what convinced me on it! Their design inspirations come down to trying to balance a few different ideas: making the patterns and palettes of both look oddly similar (special mention to the stars, since those are fun to draw), basing them off of Felimare sechurana and juliae respectively, using blocks of color with the same placement as in Enot’s official art, and specifically making Enot look...biologically reasonable and imperfect, whilst also clearly trying to imitate human displays of emotion (what with...the eyes and blush on that one piece of official art).

Lastly, here’s just a lineup with notes on body shape and size. Most of the nicknames (existing to give a little more space, that’s all) are obvious, and while I can’t remember why I shortened Nightcat to Nox, it is in honor of my friend by the same nickname :]

[radioelly]

early shuake v third sem shuake based on this meme:

[perfectfeelings]

If you don't fight for what you want, don't cry for what you lost.

Jan Jansen

[janeelyakiri]

Chapter 19! An easy going chapter, little more on interactions with the boys💙

@selfshippinglover

[brewstersbru]

Hey folks have some huskerdust !! 🕷️♥️

“I know, I know Legs. I just need to ask you something.” Angel’s eyes scrunch closed and the rest of his expression crumples as he whines out, short and low. Husk hovers his hands over the mottling of bruises and cuts that litter his torso, some still sluggishly bleeding. He itches to bandage them up, but stays himself with the sobering thought that Angel is used to guys touching him when he’s unconscious.

“Angel.” He tries again. Angel shakes his head minutely. “-on’t wanna.” He whines.

“Look at me please? I just want to check that it’s okay that I touch you. You know it’s important to me.”

Angel, with a long, juddering sigh, pulls himself from the cusp of sleep and blinks his eyes open. He frowns, glaring a little as he yawns into his hand. Husk waits patiently at his side, knees beginning to ache with being pressed against the hard wooden floor for so long.

“I told ya I don’t care what you do when I come back doped out like this, Whiskers. Not like I’ll remember it. Hah!” His laugh comes out rough, like it hurts to push from his lips. Husk shakes his head.

“And I told you it doesn’t matter if you’ll remember it or not. I’m not going to be another man who takes advantage of you.” He says, carefully enunciating each word so the message gets through.

Angel curses and flops over onto his side which draws his face infinitely closer to Husk’s own. He meets his eyes with a burning, lidded gaze. Husk keeps his posture relaxed, but his tail puffs at the sudden movement.

“Yer a softie, Husk. I don’t think ya could take advantage of me if you wanted to.” The words are coupled with a rickety, slapped on grin. Husk desperately wants to just shake him until he gets it through his big thick head that that’s not the point. It doesn’t matter what he thinks, it matters what he wants. Does he want Husk touching him after an abusive, grueling shoot? That’s what Husk’s asking, not if he ‘trusts’ him. He sighs.

“You didn’t answer my question. Can I touch you? Just give me an answer and then you can go back to sleep. God knows you’ll be needing it.” And it’s true. Who knows what Val has in store for him tomorrow? He’s better off getting all the rest he can get, while he can.

Angel appraises him with a long, considering look. There’s a lot going on behind his eyes and though Husk is aware of the fact of it, he can’t begin to try to fathom what exactly his thoughts are in this moment. He simply sits back on his heels and awaits his verdict. Every so often his eyes are drawn down to the mess of Angel’s torso. It’s not an intentional thing, but he can feel his hackles rising with the need to Fix It. Husk crushes the feeling down.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity but in reality couldn’t have been longer than five minutes, Angel closes his eyes.

“Yeah. Yeah Husk, you can.” He says, voice as small as Husk thinks he’s ever heard it. It’s strange to hear him so soft when usually he overtakes rooms with booming confidence; he even looks small, now, tucked into himself and using all of his arms to hug himself close as he hunches over.

He doesn’t- maybe he can’t- look at Husk when he speaks. Husk takes the words for the olive branch that they are and nods.

“Okay. Thank you, Angel. S’ all I needed.”

Angel just nods, curling further into himself for a moment before abruptly turning onto his back and feigning sleep. They both know he’s awake- he’s not snoring as loudly or as endearingly as he would if he truly was asleep- but Husk doesn’t call him on it, just reaches down to the first aid kit he’d dragged over in his initial protective rage and starts unpacking the necessary materials. Alcohol (not the fun kind), gauze, tape, and Angel’s preferred- though he’d never tell you it- heart-patterned bandages.

Another glance at Angel’s stiffly unmoving form reminds him that he hadn’t even had time to remove his makeup before passing out from exhaustion. Smears of glittery pink decorate his eye sockets, smudged from what Husk can only assume were punishing bouts of sweat and exercise. Husk pushes down the surge of indignation this thought elicits and smooths Angel’s hair back, thumbing for a moment near his hairline, before standing.

“Be back in a sec. Forgot something.” He keeps his voice low, tries for soothing but probably achieves something more like a dying wood chipper. Angel- who had up until that point been tightly coiled, as if expecting a blow- eases into the cushions at the sound. He hums, “Mmk. Thanks.”

Husk doesn’t respond lest Angel figure out from the cadence of his voice that Husk doesn’t need to be thanked. That he wants to do this. That he likes it.

It’s just- Angel always looks so at peace in these moments. The usual tension in his body melts away leaving nothing but the rawest and purest version of him. Husk loves that version of him, and he loves that Angel trusts him enough to show him it.

Husk returns after a minute or two with a pack of makeup wipes, Angel’s preferred brand, that he’d bought not too long ago precisely for moments like this. Angel was always complaining about glitter getting into his eyes when he forgot to take his makeup off and Husk saw an opportunity to Fix It. There’s not a lot in Angel’s life that Husk is able to help with, but this is something. And he jumped at the chance.

Angel is snoring lightly, right back at the cusp of oblivion that Husk had so heartlessly torn him from before. He sniffs and turns toward Husk when he settles back at his side, curling slightly into his warmth. Husk can’t help the smile that infects his features at the movement.

With careful, callused fingers, Husk begins to dab at the cuts on Angel’s torso. He’s not sure how to feel about the fact that Angel only flinches at the initial sting, not the rest of the painful swipes. It speaks to a depth of experience with this kind of thing that Husk vehemently dislikes the thought of Angel having to go through. Sure, in theory he knows Angel’s been subjected to this bullshit for decades, but to see it spelt out like this? So clearly and heartbreakingly? Husk has to take a moment between cleaning and bandaging the wounds to collect himself.

Angel whines when he takes his hands away.

“Easy. Easy, Legs.” He wants to call him ‘baby’ but isn’t convinced enough of Angel’s unconsciousness to chance it. Angel huffs.

The rest of the bandages go on easily enough, with minimal protests from Angel- which, somehow only seem to occur when Husk pulls away- and Husk smooths a healthy amount of bruise cream on each of Angel’s visible bruises. He’s almost certain there are more hidden beneath the- admittedly skimpy- clothing Angel is wearing, but is unwilling to undress him like this.

Pulling the surprisingly fluffy throw blanket from the back of the couch, Husk drapes it over Angel’s form, smoothing the sides down and tucking his arms beneath its warmth so he doesn’t wake up cold.

Husk is methodical in his cleanup of the first aid supplies, drawing each movement out so that he has more of a reason to stay in the room. To look at the rare smooth openness of Angel’s expression.

Once finished, he sets the kit to the side and picks up the makeup wipes, pulling one from the pack and pinching it between his pointer and thumb as he leans over Angel’s face. He moves one hand to cup his cheek, and the other to begin swiping lightly across Angel’s left eyelid.

Angel flinches a little at the unexpected contact, eyelids fluttering as his expression scrunches, disrupting the smooth peace Husk had so adored. It strikes something sore within Husk to watch.

“Hey. Hey, you’re okay, Baby. I’m not gonna hurt you. Go back to sleep.” The ‘baby’ slips out, Husk just can’t filter his words as carefully when Angel is so close, and so clearly hurting.

Angel’s expression smooths at the sound of his voice, at first fractionally, then all at once. It’s a gift to witness.

He leans his cheek further into Husk’s hand and Husk, unable to curb the small chuckle that bursts from his chest at the sight, smooths his thumb underneath Angel’s newly cleaned eye.

This is perfect. If life was fair and they were free this could be their normal, their everyday intimacies, indulged in unrestrained bliss. Husk allows himself to live in the thought for a moment before moving to clean Angel’s other eye.

He doesn’t flinch this time, simply sinks into Husk’s hand as it cradles his face and tips his right side towards him. Husk lets his fingertips linger against smooth, cool skin as he works. Swiping tenderly with each pass, as if Angel were something worth treating carefully.

Husk finishes his work without fanfare and, with an indulgent, lingering press of his lips to Angel’s warm forehead, he stands.

Only to nearly keel over when he meets Angel’s own, lidded- but OPEN- eyes.

“FUCK!”

Angel laughs, but it’s small and syrupy. Real.

“Thanks, Babycakes.” He offers, reaching his arms above his head in a stretch before settling back, deeper under the covers. “You sure know how to treat a guy. Careful what you offer, though, okay? Might end up with a junkie on your ass if it's too sweet.”

Husk understands what he’s really trying to say and shakes his head.

“Any time, Angel.”

[ulysses-but-somehow-more-transer]

"Generic Love Poem" or

"The Scale Of Things"

i pity the stars that you watch so lovingly almost every night who you stare at so longingly wishing you could see their mighty light just a little closer

because the stars will never know what a beautiful bright soul they could admire back if only your lifetime of love wasnt just the blink of an eye to them

i pity the sun who warms your every day you always remember to thank in every possible way sitting on a park bench enjoying her warm embrace

because the sun will never hear the poems you wrote for her the songs you sing in summer your voice barely a whisper against her roaring winds so loud

i pity the moon the only one you trust all your problems to you tell him about your lust your pain sorrow love and joy too asking his advice

because the moon is an old man covered in dimples and scars and listening to all the worlds feelings has been an interesting day and to him you are but a fly so young

i dont pity me because your life goes by no quicker than mine your poems are as clear as water from a small summer spring when you cry your feelings are all i care for i hear you i see you i feel you-

i pity you because when you say 'i love you' your words as true as truth can be your heart as pure as hearts can be all i can give you back is honesty I can not love you

[you-see-something-strange-here]

Imagine a “Best Friends-Off” with the Richmond team; Keeley pairs up the lads to answer questions about each other (with the classic whiteboards and dry erase markers yes) and it’s a fun little promotional video for the season.

Obviously with Isaac and Colin would be paired, then Jamie and Sam, I could see Jan Maas and Bumbercatch as an underrated duo, Dani could be paired with anybody on the team because he’s best friends with everyone.

The twist is when Jamie gets called to do the quiz with Roy at the end of the shoot, and both protest it (he’s not my best friend!). Needless to say, they end up mopping the floor and getting all the questions right, leading AFC Richmond to declare Roy and Jamie as the best besties on the team.

[quotefeeling]

If you don't fight for what you want, don't cry for what you lost.

Jan Jansen

[murdrdocs]

hi! i’m here to talk to you about luke (and to ask if i could be ☀️ anon please and thank you!)

i think he has a necklace kit under his bed with beads he’s painted to match the ones on his camp necklace.

it’s bc he’s lost so many from fucking you - you keep grabbing the necklace as something to keep you grounded and suddenly he thrusts too hard and there’s wooden beads bouncing and rolling everywhere

MDNI 18+

and he would be upset about it, but he's full of so much pride. luke has an ego, just like most demigods, and it luckily has yet to have negative effects on your relationship.

for it is his pride that leads him to striving towards an achievement claimed by being a better lover each time he has you. he knows when to stop just as well as he knows what buttons to hit and when. his knowledge of your body, and ambition to do better and better, is what has you gripping the chord around his neck.

you'll squeeze until the clay shatters while he fingers you. you'll clamp your teeth around it when he's leaning down as he fucks you. you'll use the necklace as a leash to pull luke's lips from your cunt to your mouth. (it's these moments where luke reminds himself that while you choose to be complacent and submissive, you have just as much strength as him. it's a challenge more than a threat.)

and your manhandling—because that's really what it is—has shattered the beads a few times, leaving luke to pull out the kit from under his bed. the box had gone from covered in dust, only used in the off chance of another kid breaking a bead, to being clearly weathered and well used.

plus, luke has gotten better at arts and crafts.