Prev: spiralingemptyness
Tiktok: @spiralingemptynes
Twt: d3athanddying
Trying (and failing) to learn digital art
I'm also trying to write... for some reason
...wanna be moots?
Hi… uh… im desperate for more heavenlydive shit bc im a slow writer
but uh..
a night between them that was supposed to be spicy but turns into more non-sexual intimacy because one of them is injured or smth
also… cuddling :)
-🪿
Colt and Julian try to be normal and have self-worth challenge: impossible
Colt pulled Julian into the bedroom, away from the kitchen where they'd been making out for way too long, and sat down on the bed. After shutting and locking the bedroom door, Julian turned, stepped between Colt’s legs, and faced him.
Colt widened his stance, sliding his foot to hook it around Julian's calf. "Come on," he said quietly, feeling impulsive and on edge.
Julian huffed a laugh and leaned down, connecting their lips for only a moment before he pulled back and started yanking up Colt's shirt.
Except, something weird happened. Colt flinched and made a pained sound.
Julian stopped moving, still as a statue, before he turned his eyes up towards Colt's. Colt ducked his head down, refusing to meet Julian's eyes, and shifted anxiously on the bed. "It's nothing."
Julian's jaw clenched, and he let go of the shirt before standing up fully. "What happened?" He demanded lowly.
Colt sighed and took off his shirt painfully. Julian tried to reach out to help, but Colt had thrown the shirt to the ground before he could. Julian's eyes widened at the massive bruises decorating Colt's torso. Some of them were wrapping Colt's sides.
"What happened?" Julian asked again when his initial question received only silence.
Colt shrugged. "Just work. It's normal."
Julian narrowed his eyes at Colt. He's a fucking liar, and he knows it. "No one offered ice?"
Colt swallowed and looked away from Julian. He couldn't escape having to tell the truth anymore. Not with how perceptive Julian was.
"No one knew," Colt admitted as he stared at his hands in his lap. "I didn't wanna say anything."
Julian shook his head and left the room without a word. He went into the kitchen, pulled out one of the larger icepacks he had, and wrapped it in a hand towel.
When he came back into the room, Colt's head was in his hands as he cried softly to himself. Julian made a concerned hum and sat down on the bed beside Colt. He pushed the man's hands away from his face gently and held the icepack to his abdomen.
Colt sucked in a breath of air at the contact but took hold of the icepack himself. He shuffled back on the bed and lay down with the pillow under his head. Colt wiped his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. The room was silent.
Julian sat at the edge of the bed for another minute, thinking back to Colt coming over and showing zero signs of being injured. Julian didn't like those particular implications. After shaking himself free from his thoughts, he crawled up the bed and sat beside Colt, looking down at his glassy eyes.
"Were you afraid to ask for help?" Julian had to know. He can fix that. He can offer help in the only way he knew how if someone made Colt afraid.
"No…" Colt shook his head, and tears welled up in his eyes again. "I just- I don't like being needy, is all." He said it so casually. As if Julian wasn't absolutely ready to hunt down whoever made him feel like he was needy despite being injured.
"That's not being needy," Julian said firmly and lay down on the bed next to Colt, looking at the ceiling with him. "You're injured."
Colt sighed through his nose and turned his head a little in Julian's direction. "It's just bruises."
Julian felt his hand twitch in anger. Not at Colt, just everything that was happening. Everything that led to Colt being unable to ask for help like him.
"Bruises are injuries," Julian said quietly. He turned on his side to face Colt. "You need rest."
Colt shifted the icepack on his abdomen to cover another set of bruises. "Yeah…" He trailed off. "I'm really sorry for throwing this at you."
Julian's eyes narrowed. "What?" He's apologizing… for being injured?
Colt nodded, sure of his words, "Yeah, I'm sorry for coming over like this. You shouldn't have to deal with my shit, ya know? I'm an adult, I can take care of myself."
Julian was a little… dumbfounded. How do you respond to that? Even if you are good with words?
"Colt," Julian spoke softly now. "I'd rather you come here than suffer." He had to be open with Colt now; it was the least he deserved. Julian felt terrible. He'd put his hands on Colt's torso all night, and the man didn't even make a peep… Julian felt so guilty.
Colt sniffled and gave Julian a watery smile. "Thanks."
Julian hummed and looked down at Colt's bruises again. "20 minutes on, 20 minutes off. You know that, right?" He tapped Colt's hand holding the icepack so the man would know what he was talking about.
"Yeah, fortunately, they teach stunt guys how to treat their own wounds," Colt smiled at Julian, and Julian forced himself to hum in response. He was too busy processing Colt's entire situation, everything he'd just learned about the man in so little time.
Julian was too busy worrying if Colt understood his body's limits. Would he even listen if his body told him enough was enough? Or would he keep going until he dropped dead?
Julian closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against Colt's shoulder. He didn't know what to offer Colt as comfort, so this was the best he could come up with for now.
"Stay tonight," Julian said. He wasn't really asking Colt. If need be, he'd stop Colt from leaving just to make sure the man got some legitimate rest.
Colt put a hand on Julian's upper thigh and squeezed. "I'll stay."
Julian threw an arm over Colt's chest and held onto his shoulder tightly, like he was anchoring the man to the bed. Colt pressed his head against Julian's and took a deep inhale. "Thank you…" He kissed the top of Julian's head lightly.
Julian squeezed his shoulder in response and lay there quietly until he knew Colt needed to move the icepack. He told Colt to put the icepack on a new spot and to let him know when it was warm so he could swap it out. Colt called him 'a mother hen' with a big smile on his face and then promptly fell asleep against Julian.
Julian kept an eye on him for another minute to ensure he was asleep before taking the icepack from him and putting it back in the freezer. He returned to bed silently and threw a blanket over the two of them, snuggling up against Colt's side but mindful of the bruises. He snuck a hand across Colt's chest to feel his steady heartbeat and fell asleep against him, knowing he'll have to broach this subject in detail with Colt at a later time.
For now, though, he held Colt close and made sure his injuries would heal the way they should.
also make him cry bc he isnt used to this typa intimacy and he’s realizing how nice can be
-🪿
Jacob gets a hug and a blanket :3
He and I made the same face and gesture to that fuckass wallet.
"Jacob?" You called into his bedroom. You'd gotten home late from work, tired and ready to fall into bed with Jacob, but there was some… noise coming from his bedroom. You weren't exactly sure what it was, so you slowly made your way through the house after dropping your stuff on the counter.
"Jacob?" You knocked on his bedroom door and walked into the room. You looked around, but he wasn't anywhere. Strange… maybe the bathroom?
You stepped in front of the bathroom, and the door was cracked open just a bit. You heard another sound, and it was coming from inside.
Oh. He's crying.
You knocked lightly on the door, calling his name as you did so, and waited. The crying stopped suddenly, and all went still.
You heard shuffling from behind the door, and then it opened fully. Jacob stood there, looking at the floor, eyes wet and face red. He sniffed and wiped a hand down his face. "'m sorry, this is embarrassing," His voice cracked as he spoke.
You scanned him and saw that his hands were shaking at his side. "Oh, Jacob…" You trailed off and stepped forward. You laid a hand on his arm and tugged him forward. Jacob tripped towards you and crashed into your front. He dropped his head down to your shoulder and sobbed loudly into your shirt.
"I'm sorry," He mumbled into you, breathing stuttered and shaky hands coming up to wrap around your back.
You shushed him gently and rocked the two of you side to side, just letting him take a moment to feel. You brought a hand up to brush your fingers through his hair and rubbed circles into his back with the other. He relaxed more into your hold and held onto you tighter.
"Thanks," Jacob said. "Sorry you had to come home to this."
You pulled away from him enough to hold his face in your hands, wiping his tears. "What happened?" You ignored his apology intentionally. You knew that he was never going to accept the fact that you didn't mind coming home to him crying. Sometimes you just had to cry and couldn't control it.
Jacob shrugged and took hold of one of your hands and pulled you back into his bedroom before sitting on the bed. You sat next to him and squeezed his hand encouragingly. Jacob took a deep breath, eyes darting around the room as he thought about what he wanted to say.
"Just my mom in my ear today," Jacob said dismissively, head down to the ground.
You hummed, "Did she talk to you or are you just thinking about her?"
Jacob sighed. "Just thinking… I tried to work out and clean, but I couldn't stop hearing her."
You nodded and pulled yourself backwards on the bed, pulling off your shoes before yanking him back with you to lie down. Jacob lay down facing you and sniffled. You grabbed a blanket from the bottom of the bed and threw it over him. "What's she saying?"
Jacob huffed and buried his face into the pillow, drying his face on the sheet before lifting his head to look at you. You lay down beside him and put a hand on his cheek. Jacob leaned into it and closed his eyes. "'I don't deserve this," He admitted.
"She told you that?" You asked. "Your actual mother or the one in your head?" You weren't exactly pleased with his mother to begin with, but now… Oh, boy, you could probably kill her remorselessly. Better to check before committing a homicide, though.
"Actual mother," Jacob said, voice small. "Was a few days ago over the phone, and I can't stop thinking about it."
You sighed and wrapped the blanket tighter around him. "She's wrong."
Jacob's eyes were wet when they connected with yours. "But-"
"Nope," You cut him off and grazed the side of his head with your fingernails. "She's wrong. She doesn't get to decide what you do or don't deserve. No one does. You do. That's it." Your tone was sharp and almost angry, but not at him. Angry and bitter towards his mother, sure, but never towards Jacob.
You could see the insecurities she stitched into his being. Could see how her words and actions shaped him into who he was before you met him… well, before you started dating at least. But even when you first met him, you could just feel that he was like the other guys, looking for a hookup. You weren't sure what exactly clued you. It may have been how damn attentive he was to your every need and your story… or maybe it was just how sad his eyes looked.
Regardless, you were grateful that your intuition of the man beside you had been right: Jacob was more than meets the eye.
Jacob absorbed your words and brought a hand up to your waist. He pulled you into his side and threw the blanket over you, too. "Thank you," He whispered into your skin as he wrapped his arm around your back and rubbed circles into it with a warm hand.
"…If I meet her," You started quietly, voice full of controlled anger for his sake.
Jacob snorted and pressed his head into your collarbone. "You'll show her who's boss, I know."
You shook your head and held onto him tightly. "I can do more than that."
Jacob laughed, and you smiled to yourself. Just what you hoped would happen.
Bro was dissociated so hard this scene, holy fuck. He just wanted answers and got none. And he fucking knew she was crying, he could tell something was off. It’s why he waited the next night and then went to the house.
Can you write more Julian and Henry being bros? Your stories of them are 😘❤️
Thank you so much 😭🫶🏻 this was so sweet.
Julian gets to see himself through Henry’s eyes in this one.
I was thinking of this pic for Julian when I was deciding on the colors of the portrait.
"Hey," Henry knocked on Julian's open door. He leaned against the doorframe with a hand in his pocket.
Julian turned his head up from his book and closed it. "Hey."
Henry smiled hearing Julian speak and took a few steps into the room. "Can I make a portrait of you?"
Julian blinked and placed the book down on the bed. He swung his legs off the side of it and stood up, stretched and then nodded at Henry.
Henry motioned out of the room and walked with a slight limp into his art studio. It was a small room with an easel and canvas. There were tubes of paint, paint brushes, charcoal, pencils, and more on different shelves and small tables.
Julian walked into the room, looking out of place and tense. "Where do you want me?"
Henry grabbed a chair in front of one of the tables and slid it to be diagonal to the canvas. "Here is good." He patted the chair and then sat in front of the easel, readjusting the seat and canvas so he could see Julian perfectly after the man sat down.
"Okay, you can readjust yourself whenever," Henry said, picking up a pencil to draw a faint sketch. "Do you want to grab your book? I don't mind if your head is down in this."
Julian thought quietly to himself, tapping his foot on the floor. "No, I can stay here."
Henry nodded, figuring that this wasn't worth an argument and put his pencil to the canvas. He sketched lightly, glancing over at Julian every a minute or so to get his features right. Get the little details just the way he wanted.
Julian sat staring off into space and letting Henry work. Henry actually had him get up and stretch with him at one point after the sketch was finished because he was worried about Julian being still for too long.
After that, Henry cracked opened his paint tubes and started throwing color onto the canvas. He chose a lot of blues and some light purples for Julian's face, and reds to border around Julian's portrait.
Henry made the slit through Julian's brow detailed using a striking white through the center of it. It popped against the faint blue of Julian's skin, and the dark blue of his eyebrow. It was one of the first things Henry noticed when he met Julian so he wanted to highlight it.
"Almost done," Henry mumbled, brushing some darker red around the edges of Julian's face. He made it so a light red was closer to Julian's blue and purple-tinted skin and became gradually darker the further away from Julian it was.
Julian hummed in acknowledgment and rubbed his hands up and down his thighs, fidgeting in place as he waited to be able to move again.
"Okay, done!" Henry said, throwing a small smile up at Julian before standing up and looking down at his work. "Yeah, not bad…"
Julian got up, stretched out his legs and back, and walked around to look at the canvas with Henry.
He stilled.
The colors Henry used felt… purposeful. Maybe he was speaking to Julian without opening his mouth about something.
"Wow," Julian mumbled. He took a step closer to the canvas and leaned down, letting the light shift across the paint to give him a new perspective.
It was beautiful.
Julian almost couldn't recognize himself. He seemed so… ethereal? Something not human… maybe something more. Something worth painting.
"You wanna keep it?" Henry asked him, wiping his hands of paint with a towel.
"Yes," Julian answered quickly. He finally turned away from the painting and stood up fully. "Thank you."
Henry nodded. "Let the paint dry and then we can put it up tomorrow."
Julian hummed, staring at his portrait even as Henry left the room to go wash his hands. He stood there quietly, observing himself from someone else's eyes. Someone who he cared greatly about. Someone who cared greatly about him.
Julian smiled softly to himself and walked out of the room, glancing back at the canvas one last time before following Henry into the kitchen…
He already knew where he wanted to hang the portrait.
"going out to get milk" is a common turn of phrase used to describe a man abandoning his family.
the "milkman" is a common figure in stories depicting a woman's infidelity and adulterous affair.
this implies that the ability to provide milk would both decrease the likelihood of a man abandoning his wife and children, as it would eliminate the need for leaving to get milk AND would secure that man's marriage, as his wife would have no need to seek milk from an extraneous source.
therefore, all men should produce milk, through various means such as:
- being a cow
- being an almond
- being a woman
- being a coconut
- being in the omegaverse
- being an oat
(list is exemplary and not finite)
in this essay, i will redefine the nuclear family and explain the seductive and inflammatory nature of the 1993 "Got Milk?" commercials.
