Back on my bullshit

contemplates
given gators and crocs primarily store fat at the base of the tail
a well-fed argonian has the most fantastic ass of all tamriel

 

contemplating the vastness of biology today
platypi sweat milk
so does at least one species of spider

 

hm don't like that

 

if it makes you feel any better the spider doesn't technically sweat milk, as milk is definitionally produced only by mammary glands of mammals. milk is mammal-exclusive
but she does exude a protein-rich liquid from a pore in her abdomen that feeds her brood, for longer than any other spider species is known to care for its young

 

(for the curious, this is Toxeus magnus, an ant-mimic jumping spider native to southeast asia)

 

[image of a milk shelf in the supermarket and at the end of the line of Various Milks there's a bottle just labelled 'Spider']

 

today's biology consideration:
salmon are pink for the same reason flamingoes are pink, they just don't have feathers to build up the carotenoid pigment in
a salmon fed foods without carotenoids is just. normal whitefish color. same flavor, same texture, just not pink

 

Mara/Lukin vibes

Life is not a love song that we like
We're all broken pieces floating by
Life is not a love song; we can try
To fix our broken pieces, one at a time

I like that you're broken, broken like me
Maybe that makes me a fool
I like that you're lonely, lonely like me
I could be lonely with you

 

rolls around on the floor contemplating idiot-to-idiot communication

chronic reflexive flirt terrified of commitment v demisexual moron vaguely convinced attraction is fake, fight fuck

 

gently plugs own prose again

Spoiler: timeline what timeline, only early morning cuddles here

It wasn't unusual, these days, for Lukin to wake up with at least one body draped over his own; he ran hotter than Nico and Fencer, and Mara was apparently a leech even in his sleep. It was a bit unusual to wake up with Mara's face less than a handspan from his own, already awake and a small, soft smile curled over it. "Mornin', sweet thing," he murmured, reaching up to twist a lock of Lukin's hair around one thin finger.

He should back off. Should distance himself. Should have cut and run before ever taking up with any of these people. Eventually he would kill them, or they would leave, and--

Lukin hummed and tilted his head so the backs of Mara's knuckles just brushed his jaw. It had been so fucking long since he'd had someone else's hands in his hair. It didn't hold the same meaning outside the herds, he knew, but-- it had been so long. And Mara had reached out first. Surely it wouldn't matter if he just let himself relish in this one moment.

Laying so close, it was impossible not to notice Mara's breath catch, the minute widening of his eyes. "Careful," he whispered, voice hoarse-- morning, Lukin told himself, it was only morning, they'd just woken up, no one sounded like themself when they first woke-- "I'll start thinkin' you like this." He ran the backs of his fingers down Lukin's jawline and back up to the base of his ear, unfolding to encircle the shell of it. Lukin swallowed, felt the heel of the other man's hand against the side of his throat, the drag of his beard against someone else's skin.

"I might start thinking you're serious," he countered, and pretended just as fiercely that his own voice was only rough from sleep.

"Me? Perish the thought." Mara's grin broadened, and he started to pull away; Lukin whined quietly before he could think to stop himself, and they both froze. Mara blinked, smile fading into intent curiosity, and he pushed his hand back into Lukin's hair, grabbed a fistful of mane right at the base of his skull. His ears pricked up, just a little, faint enough that Lukin never would have noticed if they were-- anywhere else. Doing anything else. "Here, now, what's this?"

Lukin's breath shook on the way out. "Wouldn't mind some help getting it in order, if you're amenable." Sky and stone, this was a bad idea. Maranai hardly had enough hair to tie out of his face. People who got close to Lukin died, one way or another, bloody and screaming. Wind take him, he wanted Mara's hands in his mane, wanted to wear his braids and put beads of bone in that tufty little scrap he called a ponytail, wanted-- wanted. Wanting things is a dangerous game, they'd agreed all those weeks ago, but didn't they spend half their time dancing with danger anyway?

"Only that, hm? Shame." Mara tugged his handful gently, then released it to drag his fingers through the full length of Lukin's hair. "Where's your comb? Let's get you pretty."

Lukin couldn't even bring himself to protest Mara's idea of 'pretty'. Spirits all fucking save him from his idiot heart.

 

Spoiler: POV flip continuation of same

Easy, Mara told himself, working through the shorter bits of mane that ran down Lukin's spine. You've brushed Tica's hair how many times? You know how to do this. It's just fucking hair. Hair that Lukin hardly let anyone touch; he'd lean on people, manhandle them plenty, let Nico hang all over him in human-majority towns, but they'd all fucking learned that the hair was off-limits. Weird centaur shit, probably. Weird shit he just invited you into, though. Weird shit he's showing you his back for. His ears were tilted backwards, but to the angle Mara'd learned to read as lazy, contented, half-asleep. If he were going to try to worm anything out of the guy, this'd be the time.

He'd never had the heart to fleece folks who'd actually taken him home. It wasn't like any of them had homes, these days, but this felt... close enough. Closer, maybe.

Lukin's hair fell loose around his shoulders; he hadn't cut it once since Fierton, and gods only knew how long before that. Did he cut it? Ever? Maybe it was another weird centaur thing. His hair was coarser than Tica's, and straighter. Mara carefully avoided the one braid already in it, and the steel bead woven into that braid. This close he could see some sort of etching on it, tiny and delicate as any nob's jewelry. Pretty. Easy to flip; metal always was.

Mara avoided that braid.

He hadn't snarled up the thickest bit of Lukin's hair manhandling it, somehow-- texture, maybe. His hair hardly needed a comb at all, really, just a bit of smoothing, and Mara found himself running out of excuses to keep his hands on the man. Braids he knew, though, and, well, Lukin already had one, surely he wouldn't mind a few more? Mara worked his way back from his temples, biting his tongue in absent concentration; it'd been years since he'd done anything like this, and that with all his damn fingers. The paired braids ended up a little lopsided, but Lukin could hardly see the sides of his own head, it'd be fine. He wasn't complaining now, anyway.

Was far from complaining, really. If Mara didn't know better, he'd think he'd fallen back asleep; he held a little too still, kept his back a little too straight to be fully unconscious, but his eyes were closed again, his hands loose in his-- lap? Was it still a lap when a guy had four legs and only two were involved? Mara shook his own head, tried to focus on winding the two braids together into a straight(ish) whole down the back of Lukin's. It was a mite tricky to manage without hopping up over the guy's withers, and even he knew better than to do that. Trickier yet to keep his focus on his work while leaning on half a ton of solid muscle first thing in the bloody morning. Fucking (hah!) hells. He should probably be grateful his particular anatomy wasn't conducive to morning wood.

Eventually, when he was nearly to the join between upright bits and horse bits and nearly out of hair to braid, Mara had to admit he was stalling, and he knew from stalling. "There," he said lowly, forcing himself to lean back; his spine crackled at the movement, too long crunched into an awkward curve over Lukin's lower shoulders. "Think you're done, 'less there's anything else you want."

Lukin made a queer, shivery grunting noise deep in his chest that fair rattled Mara's bones; he pressed his thighs together while Lukin's ears flickered around. "No," the centaur rasped, shaking his head as if to clear it. "No, that's... more than enough. Thank you."

"Anytime, mate. Always glad t'get my hands on a fine specimen like yourself." Mara clapped him on the shoulder, forced his grin broader, and tried to ignore just how much he'd meant that. "Catch you at breakfast, yeah? I need a piss." He needed ten minutes not sharing a tent with a literal wall of horseflesh only partially at his beck and call, or to share it with him entirely at same, but failing that, a brisk walk alone would fucking well do.

Lukin only snorted, the dense fucking brick, and leaned over towards his pack. "You do that. Shout if you get mauled by an owlbear or whatever."

I fucking wish, Mara thought, but he waved over his shoulder all the same and stepped out into the day regardless. If wishes were horses, he'd have been riding a long fucking time ago.

 

really is something watching someone I follow who occasionally has massive anti moments complain because, gasp, someone on tumblr once came onto a shitpost r63 drawing she made and kicked a fuss about "glorifying sexual harassment"

 

new blog meme, only I don't have 'why's for most of them and you're just getting me rambling about the song


Anti-Goth Beam Attack (upbeat vibes) 1-49
ELD Bonus Tracks (Vampire vibes I have not yet forced Ivy to put in the official campaign playlist) 1-17 (subject to change as I force Ivy to put them in the main list)
Giggles (comedy) 1-49
Gleeful Misrule (Villain swing/brass/rock) 1-21
Immense Psychic Damage (songs to make millennials say Oh God Why Do You Have This In This Year Of Our Lord 2022) 1-49
Liked Songs (the ultimate shuffle) 1-2351
Mad Dash (self-induced anxiety attacks to make me work/run faster) 1-122
Maraas (character list) 1-21
No Words Allowed (instrumentals) 1-105
Shrimply Vibin (lofi/chill vibes) 1-161
Songs To Earn A Noise Complaint With (metal/rock to blast when mad) 1-127
Trinket Lullabies (bass-heavy) 1-19
The Weather (collated from WTNV) 1-175

 

Gleeful Misrule 9
Maraas 13
Songs To Earn A Noise Complaint With 111

 

Say My Name - Beetlejuice (Alex Brightman and Sophia Anne Caruso)
So he wants the perfect daughter?
I'll lead that lamb to slaughter!
I got game!
Gonna make him say my name!
I am constantly a slut for fun wordplay, which is a must in Any Beetlejuice property, and constantly edging BJ (pun intended) with the first syllable of his name is prime entertainment. Also, Lydia's solo verse at the end slaps, love to watch a girl go full unhinged. This is the funhinged playlist, planning and committing two separate murders (insofar as we can call discorporating BJ "murder") onscreen is 100% topical.

Impossible Year - Panic! At The Disco
There's no you and me
This impossible year
Only heartache and heartbreak
And gin made of tears
I have yelled about this before in this thread, I am 100% certain lmao. This one I looked up as soon as I remembered it existed to shove onto the playlist, because it is very much Maraas: The Anthem. He is not coping whatsoever, he is throwing himself into the void and drowning in loss, this playlist is 90% depression by volume.

S.Y.F.M. - Raggtag
Before you came along
My tolerance was tight and strong
Way back when
I had the quintessential zen

(Warning: explicit lyrics, to go with an extended title of "Shut Your Fucking Mouth".)
Song to blast after a retail shift. Customers are so stupid and you cannot say so many things to them, but god is it cathartic to scream "THERE'S A SIGN OUT FRONT, IT'S PRETTY BLATANT" along to electric guitar sometimes. Even now that I am no longer in customer service, I feel this in my soul.

 

anyway I've found the most Maraas song since Impossible Year

I feel scared and I'm starting to sink
And I only sink deeper the deeper I think
O captain, make up your mind
Before the salt burns your eyes
And you run out of time
'Cause you're popping the cork, you get lost in your brain
And you lose touch with all the things that made you feel sane

 

witchbaby tentative shopping list:
Star Crossed
Rune Stone
Godmother
Twin Flame
Astrology
Left Hand
Dragon's Blood
Hex Breaker
Black Mass Coffin

 

I will carry hell to your doorstep
You will rue the day
You will reap the hate you've sown
No matter how hard you pray
It's a place without any mercy
Fashioned in cold blood
Stones of fear and stones of doubt
No forgiveness
NO WAY OUT!
Only justice
Then, amen!

holds up a3 anders like a paint swatch

 

blorbo tier: mentally holding emo songs up to stoblitz like paint swatches to Daydream AMVs To

 

holds ashton in my mouth and shakes them likr a dog toy
feelings and emotions about the blorbo