#ichluged

   YOU ARE A POET as well as an engineer and you can appreciate the prose of scarlet candle wax dripping against gently tanned and freckled skin. You can understand the laws of the universe which make heat and flame ignite to to change the candles constitution, know vaguely why ad how this approximation of a mortal body responds to sharp and sudden heat against its skin. BUT MOSTLY you are a god of love, a god of men fumbling over each other in desperation and longing, a god of pushing boys against walls in the backs of clubs and bruising them until they cry for all the right reasons. So more than any of those things you understand the adrenaline rush in your veins and the lust hanging off the man sitting on your hips ( you are pinned, wrists tied to the headboard, but it doesn’t bother you ) and the way the small taper candle and lighter held in his hand make you both a little bit more excited than one would mention in polite society. 

    YOU DON’T KNOW EACH OTHER. Not really. You know each others types, at least; a young man with daddy issues and a violent streak, and someone just as crass and rough edged willing to tame him for the night. Perhaps it wouldn’t appear as if you were doing much taming, but as much can be eased by giving as taking. Your hips shift ( your hard and you’re sure he can feel ) as you grin up at him, a challenge, a nonverbal form of consent, before you arch your back, further baring your naked torso to him.

                       you      haunt      the      trees      in      central      park      ,      when      the      buzz      of      the      annual      shakespeare      in      the      park      performance      is      just      before      its      crest      into      a      roar      -      next      week      ,      this    land      will      be      the      setting      for      a      love      letter      to      theatre      .      perhaps      there      will      be      some      lurking      who      would      like      to      speak      your      words      on      your      stage      .      .      .

      ❝       ǫᴜɪᴛᴇ      ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛɪғᴜʟ      ᴡʜᴇɴ      ᴛʜᴇ      sᴛᴀʀs      ᴀʀᴇ      ᴏᴜᴛ      ,      ɪs      ɪᴛ      ɴᴏᴛ      ?      ʏᴏᴜ      ʟᴏᴏᴋ      ᴀs      ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ      ʏᴏᴜ’ᴠᴇ      ɢᴏᴛ      sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ      ᴏɴ      ʏᴏᴜʀ      ᴍɪɴᴅ      .      ❞

to be fair jason has no idea what he’s doing, it’s supposed to be an angel but he isn’t the best at painting, less at drawing. yet he sticks out his tongue in concentration as he does. eyes darting over to the other jason, just to get at peek at what he’s doing. 

@ichluged​  :      🔌   /  help  hang  lights  or  decorate  with  my  muse .

     “      THANKS  FOR  HELPING  ME,      i  was  starting  to  think  i’d  be  here  all  night  doing  this,      ”      sam  smiled,  looking  up  at  him  from  the  box  of  decorations  for  the  animal  shelter,  unsure  of  why  he  was  here  but  grateful  for  the  help,      “      honestly,  this  place  can  be  really  depressing  at  christmas.      we  get  a  lot  of  dogs  left  here  because  people  want  a  new  puppy,  but  we  try  to  make  it  less  sad  as  much  as  we  can,      ”      she  admitted,  pulling  out  the  christmas  lights  of  the  box,  standing  up  straight  as  she  held  the  lights  out  for  him,      “      i’m  sure  you  have  plenty  of  other  things  you’d  rather  be  doing,  but  i’m  grateful  for  the  help  and  i’m  sure  there  are  plenty  of  dogs  that  will  be  happy  to  see  a  new  face      .      .      .      plus  i  have  some  homemade  cookies  in  my  bag  too,      ”