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@alleviatiion-a
this blog is now archived! i’m moving to @alleviatiion so catch me over there! reminder that this is a sideblog and i follow with @odairing, and i have another oc sideblog over on @blackclothed. i also have a multimuse on a separate account at @fevertaste :)
this blog is now archived! i’m moving to @alleviatiion so catch me over there! reminder that this is a sideblog and i follow with @odairing, and i have another oc sideblog over on @blackclothed. i also have a multimuse on a separate account at @fevertaste :)
if u, a stranger on the subway, fell asleep on luke's shoulder, he would not only let u sleep but lean into u as well
Paul Delaroche - Louise Vernet on Her Deathbed [detail]
i don’t know if everyone is aware....but everything is about love
dubovoye:
ANDREI DOESN’T WANT TO WATCH THE FLOWER WILT. it is repulsive : the idea of yellow giving way to brown and black, fragrant scent becoming acrid, beauty for a moment becoming long, drawn out hours of hideous death. no. he does not want it. he does not want to watch a reflection of himself in this flower whither as he will. this uprooted, fragile thing. his head turns from it, so that neither its golden hue nor its bearer, seated upon that long - empty chair, are in sight. the other doesn’t need to see the disgust, or worse, the distress, in andrei’s expression.
his muscles, atrophied and exhausted, will ache if he tries to take the flower to dispose of it. he would not do such a thing in front of this practical stranger anyways —- he feels nothing for him, and so has no desire to offend him for callously.
“ it doesn’t matter to me. ” his murmur is too quiet, too withdrawn, as though he doesn’t want to speak at all. and he doesn’t. has his heart not given up on loving? has his soul not given up on wanting? in company he feels but the dull echo of a need to be around other people, to be loved, resonating in his chest, making so violently loud the hollow of him. there’s so little left of him, so little that isn’t ruined flesh and spilt blood and rot, rot creeping down into his core. why anyone would want to sit at his side and inhale the putridity around him, andrei does not know.
and … he doesn’t want to ask —- for even the smallest tenderness would drive him to ugly tears. hasn’t he been shamed enough?
“ THANK YOU, ” though his friend is turned away, luke’s smile is like sunlight. he responds as if the other has welcomed his presence instead of all but disregarding him. it is luke’s belief that no one would truly, deep in their heart, want to be alone here. not every moment. isolation turns the soul to a hollowed-out stone, cold and hungry for something to fill it. this is a scary place, a place bound to memories of the most horrible time of his life, and yet he seeks it out. as if he is searching for his past self, reflected in others, and seeks to give him comfort he never had. there are no happy memories here for anyone, but perhaps, if he tries hard enough, he can soften them.
“ I don’t live in the city so I’m making the most of the visit. getting to know new people. ” from his bag, he withdraws a scrapbook. well, it’s a notebook, but there are leaves taped to some of the pages. he digs out a crayon, among a handful floating at the bottom of his bag, and starts coloring a page. the lines he makes are nonsense, abstract if judged generously, but it keeps his hands busy while he talks. grass green begins to fill the page. “ I’m luke. what’s your name? ”
writedisaster:
Luke sounds like one of those affirmation tapes Lip used to listen to when they couldn’t sleep. All that rote bullshit about being precious, being deserving. All those little white lies they used to wrap themself up in. They feel like an empty carcass, like they could push one hand right through the skin under their ribs and scrape air. A handful of maggots, starving on what little’s left.
They don’t touch the tea Luke pours for them; they don’t react when he touches their hand. A moment ago, they could have sworn they were about to cry, but now there’s nothing there. Blipped out, as easy as that. For now, at least. They look out the window, then back to Luke with a smile.
“I’d like to go for a walk,” they say brightly, as if they haven’t seen the rain clouds. “I’m feeling better. I think I’d like to go for a walk.”
AH, THEY’RE UPSET. nobody ever flips like a switch and speaks to him in a voice sprinkled with that delicate sort of cheer because they’re being genuine. luke makes a judgement call and decides it would do more harm than good to address it.
asking if they’re sure they want to go is on the tip of his tongue, but of course they’re sure. he worries—lip was so very weak when luke found them and he doesn’t know how much exertion they can safely endure, nor whether they would push themselves beyond it on purpose. besides that, he doesn’t know lip. they might be planning to do something crazy like up and leaving despite his cottage being placed miles out from town, and rain gathering on the horizon. regardless, it’s not as if he can just say no.
he sits back down, rubbing his index finger idly along the rim of his mug. his voice retains that cotton soft sweetness.
“ that’s good you’re feeling better, but it’s about to rain. better make it short. do you want to go alone? ” he tilts his head, lengthy locks of blond swaying with the motion. he slowly lifts his grey hues from the brown pool of tea to lip. “ you can take an apple when you go and feed it to bianca, if you’d like. ”
Impermanence is not insignificance
By the way, I moved all of my prints to Inprnt (better quality than Redbubble); you can get a print of this piece here!
salty spittoon / weenie hut jrs diagnosis feat @dubovoye
andrei WANTS to be salty spittoon, I think he believes in his heart he's salty spittoon, but he's not :( he's weenie hut jrs, he's kind of a weenie I'll be honest,, not like a super weenie its just his physical toughness is lacking. he's got the mindset for it it's just he needs to get jacked first
jameson is weenie hut jrs but hes like fine with it, it's whatever. proving toughness is arbitrary and he doesn't get the hype
raz is soooooo salty spittoon, somebody tried to pick a fight with him once and their brain turned to goop so nobody did again. al is salty spittoon that quite enjoys weenie hut jrs and so she's over there all the time except to visit raz at salty spittoon
rhae is weenie hut jrs, hes just a liddle guy he has No desire to be in salty spittoon at all and is pretty happy in weenie hut jrs. he sits on the barstools and swings his feet and gets yummy sundays and sodas
salty spittoon / weenie hut jrs diagnosis feat @wantedformanysins
I think it depends on the verse for nathan, like in his god verse he is salty spittoon, but he gets beat up by the tougher members whereas in modern I think he's weenie hut jrs, not necessarily because he's a weenie he's just not rough and tough enough, and keeps trying to get into salty spittoon. he thinks he deserves to be there (he doesn't)
@wantedformanysins asked for a shitty doodle!
Important defining character question is whether your muse is salty spittoon or weenie hut jrs
Luke is surprisingly salty spittoon that stays at weenie hut jrs because he wants to and likes it there and would have to be forcibly dragged to the salty spittoon
siggy is weenie hut jrs that desperately wants to be salty spittoon but he's just Not he would slip on an ice cube and break all his twig bones
actually like this and I will diagnose your muse with salty spittoon or weenie hut jrs
Important defining character question is whether your muse is salty spittoon or weenie hut jrs
Luke is surprisingly salty spittoon that stays at weenie hut jrs because he wants to and likes it there and would have to be forcibly dragged to the salty spittoon
siggy is weenie hut jrs that desperately wants to be salty spittoon but he's just Not he would slip on an ice cube and break all his twig bones
@dubovoye asked for a shitty doodle!
@crestazul asked for a shitty doodle!
Like for me to do a shitty doodle of your muse
