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januscorner · 2 days

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Agere Hunter Stimboard + Headcannons

❤️🪐🐺 📍🥹🪡 🐕🌗💔

Fictional agere challenge! Day 5: A character you hc as a flip

Hunter less goes back to a specific time so much as just enters a childlike mindset, mimicking a childhood he never got to have

He semi-regressed in secret while still with Belos but did it a lot more frequently after arriving in the human realm

After discovering cosmic frontier he acts like a little kid going through a space phase

He was the first to find out Luz regressed to and became her caregiver

He likes sewing toys for Luz

Willow takes care of Hunter while he’s while regressed

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janis-takes-requests · 1 year

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Janis' Angst Corner

+ Janus always holds out hope that Virgil will come back, he always cleans the empty room, just in case

+ Janus rarely leaves the dark side of the mind scape, even after being accepted because he doesn't trust that it's true.

+ He also chooses not to leave because he doesn't want to leave Remus alone, both because he cares for him but also because he doesn't think Remus could take care of himself

+ Janus has the impulsive need to take care of others, often at the cost of their own mental health

+ When Janus is doing bad mentally, he compulsively helps the others with problems because he doesn't know how to fix his own.

+ Janus has scars under his scales from all the times he's tried to scrape them off

#sanders sides #angst ideas #not safe for sanders #janus angst #janus sanders angst #tss janus #ts janus #janus #janus sanders #janis' angst corner

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silvcrignis · 7 months

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{Meme}: What Lies In Your Heart? {x}

Muse: Keira Black

Molten Lava & Charred Flesh

Your heart burned so fiercely that it burnt itself out, leaving horrible scars in its wake; scars inside your chest and on the hands of those who touched you, the hearts of anyone who got close enough to connect to yours. The person you are now is no longer recognizable, burnt up by your own anger and passion and love. The injuries can never be fully erased, but they can be soothed with time and trust and forgiveness.

Tagged by: @prettytm

Tagging: YOU, but tag me back pls I’m too sicky to think 🥺

#x: The Great Game (Dash Meme)#x: Creature Feature (Headcanon)#c: Keira #Accurate fffffttttt #SHE GOT CALLED OUT & SHES 👀 IN THE CORNER #Keira: … I am a saint idk what that thang is talking about #Keira you have thrown at least 3 of your exes out of windows pls #Hans Janus & Kelly: YEAH WHAT THE FUCK?!#Keira: You guys are annoying that’s different :/

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chronosbled · 1 year

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youtube

The only option you have is signing your name here. Or else, he'll be stuck here forever.

There was a boy, He had the voice of an angel and sang to his parents for fun. He didn't want toys. He wanted a piano, so he could learn how to play in the clubs. His daddy was slaving away, But he didn't get paid quite enough to escape from the slums. So, the boy went for a walk And he had a long talk with a man who wore black, and he coughed. He said you sign this one thing I'll give you the keys.

To my friends on the other side. They'll take you anywhere you wanna go. My friends on the other side. They'll give you whatever you want, let 'em know. My friends on the other side. There's only one thing you have to let go to. My friends on the other side. Tell your Lord who you notice, ah. They're your friends on the other side.

He started playing new shows, Where there are elegant clothes and the fame was attached to his name. He was the talk of the town. As the crowd gathered 'round, And they gazed at the way that he sang, He couldn't control his own fingers. He played so damn fast you would think he was Satan himself. The news wanted photos and more. So, he sat in the stores, and he smiled 'cause he knew he was best.

But then he remembered his father. He looked in the mirror, all the years had gone by in a flash. He went to the store where the man in the black gave him everything. There was a note on a desk, You gave me your soul for the riches, But you didn't read everything that you signed with my pen. Now that your father is mine, I bet you won't forget.

My friends on the other side. They'll take you anywhere you wanna go. My friends on the other side. They'll give you whatever you want, let 'em know. My friends on the other side. There's only one thing you have to let go to. My friends on the other side. Tell your Lord who you notice. ah. They're your friends on the other side.

#☣ [ ' Eʋҽɾყσɳҽ Lσʋҽʂ A Vιʅʅαιɳ. ' ] - ✡ Dιƈƙʂσɳ Gҽɾαʅԃ Rҽɠιɳαʅԃ Sιɱɱσɳʂ ✡#☣ [ ' Tɯιʂƚҽԃ Ⴆყ ɯσɾԃʂ ƚԋαƚ ƈυƚ ԃҽҽρ ιɳ ɱყ ʂƙιɳ. ' ] - ✡ Mυʂιɳɠ ✡#{ This song is such a Dickson song. }#{ The lyrics fit so perfectly with his character to be completely honest with you. }#{ The man in black and the young boy both being metaphors for his future self and his past self. }#{ The man in black obviously being him now (his future self) while the young boy who wants everything (is his past self). }#{ Then the father is a perfect representation of everything that he lost and gave up for his own freedom and desires. }#{ Cause there were so many things Dickson had to sacrifice to get where he is now. }#{ His life. His late fiance. His only friend. His only remaining family. His humanity. His sanity. His boundaries. }#{ Even his own self-worth and precaution over his own well-being. }#{ Pretty much everything that made him... him. }#{ Cause with how his life was... he wasn't allowed to have both. }#{ It was either his freedom or everything else. }#{ And in the end he was given his freedom by making deals and cutting corners with people in his life. }#{ In the end... it lead to some consequences for others in his life and even himself. }#{ Such as Leafy dying; killing Janus; and even Carla dying too. }#{ He likes to act like it doesn't bother him at times... but it most definitely does. }#{ There are times where he longs for stuff he had before that he can never get back. }#{ It also helps that the song mentions a piano because despite hating them... Dickson knows how to play them. }#{ And he can sing too. He also has a club of his own. }#{ So those are just extra things that fit. }#Youtube

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transfemlogan · 1 year

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Roman: I helped Thomas through a troubling time!

Memphis (egotism), barely paying attention: uh-huh.

Roman: it was a callback for acting or a friend's wedding and—

Memphis: oh, you totes went with the callback right?

Roman: what

Memphis: that's, like, the obvs choice. Why would you wanna go to a gross wedding. It's not even YOUR wedding. You know, if my human ever had that dilemma, I'd totally make pup go to the callback. Ugh! Imagine being at a wedding and you're not even the one getting married. I could, like, never. I couldn't!

Roman:

Roman: yes we definitely went to the callback.

#janus: standing in the corner staring directly at roman #revys sides!

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senespera4 · 2 years

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I think I’m just gonna start very slowly crossposting a bunch of my sketches and art onto here lmao

Anyways here’s Max Marx, my little bi gremlin child from my web serial

#false gods #sketch #made with krita #krita #oc #my oc art #i still need to draw him with janus lmao #i did this in like 20 minutes tops so if it looks a bit shit that's why #sene's brainrot corner #sene's random sketches and shit #max marx

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janis-takes-requests · 1 year

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Janis’ Angst Corner

+ Roman has a skin picking disorder, he will spend hours in front of a mirror trying to get rid of any blemishes, real or imagined.

+ While Patton has gotten better with sharing his feelings with the others, he still prefers to repress them, he hates all his negative thoughts and emotions, and often confides in Logan or Janus about them because those are the only two he thinks can handle it without making a big fuss

+ Even though Janus encourages Patton to open up and be honest about his emotions, Janus himself represses all of his own negative emotions, not wanting to burden anyone else because he already feels like a constant burden.

+ Remus doesn’t miss his brother at all, in fact, he hates that the others think he does, he wants nothing more than for Roman to disappear because there is nothing Roman could do to fix things.

+ Virgil struggles with self harm, and uses his webs to bind his own arms so tightly that he restricts his blood flow, but he magically fixes them so no one knows, other than Janus who stays out of it because Virgil would kill him if he told the others.

#janis' angst corner #sanders sides angst #virgil angst #roman angst #patton angst #remus angst #janus angst #janus sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #not safe for sanders #angst ideas

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perlelune · 3 months

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no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | x.

Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.

Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

Disbelief shimmers in William’s green gaze.

“You’re joking…” He cradles your face, searching your eyes. They are steadily filling with tears. He releases you, retreating as his face distorts with shock. “You’re…not?” He runs his fingers through his brown locks. “God, I’m such an idiot.” He unleashes a humorless laugh. “It’s him, isn’t it?”

Your stomach sinks.

“This entire time. I waited for you. I trusted you. And you just…What? A-Are you with him now?” The betrayal quivering in his tone shatters your heart to pieces.

You lower your head and mumble, “It’s complicated…”

“No it’s not. It’s actually quite simple. Do you love him or do you love me? Do you want to marry me or do you want to marry him?”

William’s anger and frustration coat the air, his voice growing louder with every word. You tremble. Your fiancé’s never yelled at you like this before. You’ve argued, of course, like every couple does. But never like this. And never has he looked at you like that. Like you’re a stranger. You wish the earth would open up and swallow you.

“I…”

“Answer me!”

You jolt and step back, the heel of your shoe hitting the bottom of the stairs.

Your father appears in the corner of your vision. An exhale of surprise leaves you. He wedges himself between you and William.

“Do not dare raise your voice at my daughter, young man,” Strabo thunders. You gape at his back. It’s the first time you’ve heard your dad use such a furious tone of voice.

William lifts his hands defensively.

“I’m sorry. I’m just trying to understand-”

“I think it’s best if you go. Now,” your father urges, pointing at the door.

Your fiancé’s shoulders sag. He tosses you one last, heavy look, his jaw clenching.

“Yeah, maybe it’s for the best,” he belatedly grits out.

The second William slams the door shut, you’re in your father’s arms. The fat tears rolling down your cheeks drench his shirt.

“Dad…”

“It’s okay, sweetie. It’s okay.”

He rubs soothing circles on your back as you bury your head in his chest. You sniffle as a sob spills from your throat.

You doubt anything will ever be okay.

The rest of the day is spent in your room weeping underneath your blankets. It’s a wonder there’s any water left in your body, the ceaseless flow of tears soaking your pillows and sheets. Ma and Dad keep visiting your room, bringing you food and trying their best to lighten your spirits.

But nothing can keep you from drowning in your sorrows. William was the best thing that ever happened to you. You remember when you first met him at the University. The two of you were paired for a project and ended up hitting it off while working together. You didn’t even expect him to ask you out. It was no secret half the girls in your cohort harbored a crush on him. And with his boyish charm and outgoing personality, a contrast to your more withdrawn, lonely nature, you never imagined he’d seek your company past the project.

But he did, constantly finding lame excuses to talk to you like asking for your notes on a class or lying about needing a pen for a quizz. One thing led to another and, after a few months of courting, he got on one knee and asked for your hand.

Then Janus died. Your world collapsed. Colors dimmed around you. Everything stopped making sense. Still…William did. Whenever you were around him, you could pretend away your grief, laugh away your pain.

Your heart wasn’t so broken.

And now…you don’t think it’ll ever be put back together.

For days on end, you don’t leave your bed. The sun rises; it sets. Yet the same pains shackle you to your bedroom. Quicksands of guilt and sorrow suffocate you.

…Until you’re swept by a sickness one day.

It happens a little under a week after your return. You rush to your bathroom and pitch forward, dry heaving the near vacant contents of your stomach into the toilet bowl. You then huddle on the floor, hugging your stomach as pain pulses through your midriff. Your brows collide in confusion. Hardly a bite of anything has crossed past your lips these days, as you only chewed on a few glum bites of the meals Ma brought to your room. Yet you are nauseous, cramps twisting your insides.

You bolt upward, racing to the toilet bowl again as another surge of queasiness takes you. Following that, you crash into a heap on the floor. Shuddering, you wipe the back of your mouth.

You crawl onto the floor, all the way to your bed.

Every day after this one, you awake sick and cranky, the same ache and nausea plaguing you. You also begin to experience faint headaches. It becomes dire enough for your parents to summon a doctor. However many times, he checks you out, he finds nothing amiss or wrong with you. Throughout the checkup, concern is etched on your parents’ faces. You’re forced to promise them that you’re alright and that, to prove it, you’ll show up for family dinner as you did before. Your father pats your cheek, visibly relieved, but the concern on your mother’s face doesn’t relent. She keeps scrutinizing you with a strange look on her face, one you’re not sure what to make of.

Still, even as you hug Ma and Dad, dread creeps inside you. Something else could still be wrong with you. The kind of thing there isn’t a quick fix-it for. The kind of thing you’d have to deal with for the rest of your life.

But you don’t let your mind wander there. Not yet.

As you end the day with yet another bout of vomiting and stabbing cramps, your mother rushes upstairs. She sinks to her knees at your side and strokes your hair.

“Are you alright? I heard you.” She frowns as she takes in your shuddering frame. “Perhaps we should call the doctor again so he can do more tests…”

You bristle. More tests would mean exploring other possible causes for your affliction. You can’t risk that. Not with Ma and Dad involved.

“It’s nothing, Ma,” you dismiss with haste. You put a hand on her arm. “Could we go to the apothecary this evening?” Her puzzled look draws a nervous chuckle from you. Twisting your hands, you chime falsely, “I bet it’s just a nasty stomach bug.”

Her frown deepens. “A bug? But you haven’t eaten very much lately.”

You shrug.

“It can still happen.” You slip on a mask of cheerfulness. “I’m sure I’ll be right as rain again with some ginger and camomile, Ma.”

“If you say so,” she says, returning your smile.

You’re a bit unsettled as you find yourself outside. The brightness of the sun sears your eyelids. You squint at the blue sky. You wobble down the stairs as your mother holds your arm. You’ve grown so accustomed to keeping yourself cloistered inside, either by your own will or the will of…others. Strolling along the cobblestoned path while the winter breeze caresses your face has a strange tickle running through you.

An awkward silence hangs between you and your mother once you’re in the back of a taxi.

Your fingers twiddle in your lap as you keep your eyes low. Who knows what Ma could discern in your gaze. You never managed to conceal much from her ever since you were a little girl. She was always freakishly aware of every blunder, bad grade and secret.

Her motherly instinct is infallible.

“Dad and I haven’t seen much of you these days,” she suddenly notes, causing your head to whip up. “I know you’re sad about William but…” She hesitates, gauging you before stating, “I think it’s a good thing.”

“Ma…”

“He was never right for you,” she insists, her inflection stern. “You’re a Plinth. You should aim higher.”

“Mother!” you hiss.

She shakes her head. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but it needed to be said.” She reaches out to drape her hand over yours. “You’re hurting right now but it’ll all be for the best in the end. You have a bright future ahead of you. That young man, nice as he is, was just holding you back.”

Mouth agape, you stare at your mother. While you know that she and Dad have never cradled William near their heart and weren’t too thrilled with your decision to marry him, you never expected her to be so callous about your engagement ending. In her mouth, it nearly sounds like a business deal gone wrong. But she knew William, talked to him many times, saw you with him. She has to understand how much losing him means to you. How can she be so cold and dismissive about it? You quell the budding sobs in your throat.

The quickness of the drive to the shop is a small mercy you bask in. After your mother spoke, the air in the car grew heavier, every lungful becoming torturous.

You hastily climb outside the car once it comes to a stop in front of the apothecary.

Windchimes sing above the door as you enter, your mother at your heel.

You linger by every shelf, pretending to be lost between all the labels.

“We could call the clerk to help…”

“No, it’s okay,” you cut her off. You giggle and shrug. “I like taking my time. Actually, you know what?” You grab a vial and shake it, pretending to study the label. You wave your hand at your mother. “I’m gonna stay behind and gather some more herbs. You should go. I’ll be fine on my own.”

Befuddlement knits her brow. “I could stay…”

“I won’t be long,” you snap, your lips curving in a wide, painful grin. You squeeze her arm, your tone softening. “I promise. Just wait for me in the car, Ma. Then we could stop by a café and have a bite. How does that sound?”

She yields with a nod. “That sounds lovely.”

Relief fills you when she walks away.

The second she’s out the door, you’re racing to the front desk.

“I need a pregnancy test, please,” you blurt out, your voice barely above a breath as you keep stealing wary glances behind you.

The mere utterance of the request has your insides coiling in horror. For a while, you were in staunch denial of that being a possibility. But you mulled it over, long and hard. It made you realize that, besides the sickness you’ve experienced lately, you also can’t remember the last time you had your monthly bleeding. You’ve never been late before. Not even once. And while things are a little fuzzy in your head…you’re pretty sure over two months isn’t a good sign.

The clerk blinks at you, seemingly taken aback. Still, she silently moves her head in agreement and dives through a door leading to what you assume to be the back of the shop.

The wait is agony. You count every second, praying your mother won’t show up out of the blue and start questioning what you’re up to.

When the clerk returns, you free a deep breath.

She places a small, clear vial inside your palm. You give her an inquiring look.

“You must…relieve yourself and transfer it in this vial,” she explains. “If it turns blue, well congratulations are in order.” Her smile dies as she notices your tight expression. “Or perhaps…not?”

“Thank you very much,” you say, carefully squeezing the vial and shoving it at the very bottom of your bag.

For good form, you ask for some medicinal herbs, some for stomach pains and others for sleeplessness. Just in case your mother inquires about your purchases. One can never be too careful.

When you’re back inside the car, your mother beams at you.

“Did you find what you were looking for, sweetie?”

“Y-Yes, I did, mother,” you stammer, clearing your throat and letting your gaze roam outside the window.

You’re thankful she cannot hear the cacophony of your pounding heart.

You spend the rest of the evening with your mother, drinking tea and eating cake while she babbles about trivial topics. You try your best to listen, giving vague, half-hearted replies.

But your mind is already far away, a million thoughts bumping inside your head.

The entire evening, you’re restless, eager to go home and get answers to your questions.

It requires every morsel of self-control within you not to make a beeline upstairs once the two of you are back home. You give a swift apology and tell your mother the day’s exhausted you and you need a quick nap. She reminds you that dinner is in less than two hours and you need to dress up. You don’t argue, all too happy to finally be on your own.

Once the door to your bedroom is closed, you slump against it, all the tension in your body draining all at once. You take a minute to breathe, leaning your head against the wood.

You retrieve the vial inside your bag. Your hands quake. Your heart drums.

Hesitation slithers through you. What if you just tossed it out the window, forgot about all this?

No. This isn’t something you can cower or hide from. You have to face this.

Your entire life could change in an instant. And it might be about more than just your life.

Shaking from head to toe, you proceed inside the bathroom. You pee in a glass and pour a small amount in the vial.

Insides painfully tight, you chew on your lip as you wait.

Stay clear, stay clear, you pray in silence, as if the water could hear your plea and change the course of your fate by some fantastical twist.

After a few minutes, blue starts bleeding inside the water. It doesn’t stop until all of it has morphed into the horrifying color, bubbles rising to the surface.

The air in your lungs falters. The vial crashes to the floor, scattering into tiny shards as you collapse on the floor of your bathroom.

You gape at the blue puddle on the floor. Maybe it’s a mistake. Tests aren’t always foolproof. They’re wrong sometimes. Perhaps yours was defective.

For a while, you loiter in your denial, conjuring a plethora of reasons why this isn’t happening.

Then you slowly blink. You realize the puddle hasn’t moved. The shards are still on the floor. The blue isn’t gone.

An audible exhale bursts from your chest.

Despite your desire to pretend otherwise, you can’t escape the truth. The ghastly, awful truth. There are no more ifs and buts, no ‘perhaps’, no ‘maybe’…Just the reality that will make itself known to all much sooner than you’d like.

You’re going to be a mother. You’re carrying Coriolanus Snow’s child. The urge to puke, cry and scream all at once surges through you.

“Sweetie, dinner’s ready.”

Your mother’s abrupt call from downstairs has your heart miss a beat.

“I’m not hungry, mom,” you reply automatically, tamping down the quiver in your voice.

“You promised,” she yells.

Right. You did. Perhaps it was foolish of you. How can you carry on with dinner and smile at your parents as if everything’s normal? As if your whole life didn’t take a gigantic turn…the biggest one there could ever be.

You collect yourself. You rub your sweaty palms on your skirt and pick a random dress from your wardrobe. You’re a little shocked to find the closet half-empty, gut wrenching as you remember a good chunk of your clothes are still at the Snows’ apartment.

Emptying your thoughts, you get dressed, your fingers slipping as you fumble with the buttons of your dress.

Get it together.

You slap your cheeks and will yourself to act normal. You’ll figure out the next steps later. Right now, you need to make it through dinner.

The facsimile of a smile nudges your lips upward as you drag your feet downstairs.

However all shallow semblance of happiness evaporates from your face when you take in who’s standing at the bottom of the stairs by your parents.

His smooth lilt ripples through the room.

“Hey, princess.”

Your stomach drops to your feet. Victory sways in his cobalt orbs as he savors your reaction.

He looks the exact same as the last time you saw him, simply more put together in his crisp red suit and white shirt, his blonde locks slicked back from his face.

Every cell in your body is screeching at you to run from him. As far as you can. For as long as you can. And never look back.

Your fingers clutch the stairs’ handrail.

Your appalled gaze turns to your parents. They are entirely too calm for your liking. In fact, they appear more wary of you than him.

“What’s going on? W-Why is he here?”

Your father takes careful steps towards you.

“Sweetheart, maybe we should sit, have a discussion as a family…”

You scoff, shying away from his outstretched hand.

“But he’s not…He’s not part of our family. Or did you forget, Dad?”

Your father’s shoulders fall, a great weariness settling upon his features. In that moment, he looks every bit of his years, all the built-up grief and exhaustion displayed on his face.

“Yes, but, in the current circumstances-”

“What circumstances?” you interrupt.

“Stop it,” Ma snaps. She sighs, approaching you. You stiffen. “We’re not stupid.” She lifts her hand to cup your cheek, her voice mellowing. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you, sweetie?”

Your eyes bulge, shock striking you mute.

Coriolanus uses that moment to join your mother’s side. He places a soothing hand on her shoulder.

Your heart threatens to leap outside your chest when his eyes lock with yours.

“Your father’s right, princess. How about you come down so we can talk about this…” He flashes you a wicked smile. “As a family.”

#dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games #tbosas fanfiction #dark!coriolanus snow x reader

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analoceits · 7 months

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here are my hc's for how each side crys

logan: he is fighting it the whole way through. squeezing his eyes shut, rubbing at his eyes, etc. refuse to admit hes crying and WILL try to flee.

patton: looks so SAD. pouty lip, watery eyes, etc. he INSISTS hes fine all the way through. sobs a lot but very quietly and only in little hic-ups.

roman: WEEPS. WAILS. ETC. he is SO LOUD and DRAMATIC. all or nothing BABYYY. always has the reddest eyes and nose after.

virgil: depends on context. option 1 is just kinda.. depressed crying. laying in bed while tears slowly pour out of his eyes. option 2 is panic attack crying. shrieking sobs, pressing himself into the farthest corner, etc. neither is pretty.

janus: only cries in private, and only when hes bone deep exhausted. its always just this.. almost mournful sobbing. just weeping into his hands like theres nothing else to do. good at putting himself back together after.

remus: angry crier. his sobs are wretched and ragged. will usually end up cursing out whoever tries to comfort him. bangs his fist on their chest if they try to hold him.

#tss #sanders sides #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #ts sides

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pattxnsanders · 6 months

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@on-the-virge-of-breaking

Virgil walked around the antique store quietly, looking at everything. He had promised Roman that he'd help with finding some props for one of his upcoming projects. Of course he had to also drag Janus with him, he needed to somehow keep a bit of his sanity. As he was looking around Virgil spotted a bookshelf in the corner. Though one book in particular caught his attention. It was older looking, possibly from 19th century or older with how it looked. The book was bound in brown leather with some gold detailing. It also appeared to have been painted at one point though most of the paint had faded. Virgil picked up the book looking at it, but not opening it up. Something about the book felt off… but Virgil wasn't sure what. Though the book was cool enough, maybe it would be useful to Roman's project.

Janus looks over, curious. "Hey, what's that? Also, I found some old costumes I think would work with a bit of tailoring."

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emoprincey · 7 months

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[Image description 1: A screenshot of Janus from the Sanders Sides video Selfishness vs Selflessness redux. A tumblr post by schizophrenwitch is overlayed in the bottom right corner, which reads "i'm becoming a snake so i will never have to deal with joint pain again see you losers later i'm going to go warm myself on a rock in the sun".

Image description 2: A screenshot of Janus from the same episode with Logan's Lowdown, a small pixilated picture of Logan Sanders, at the bottom of the screen. Next to Logan is a comment from vaityadil which reads, "king do you know what snakes are made of. like huge mood but they are joints all the way down also".

Image description 3: A screenshot of Janus from the same episode with the text, "well team it seems i don't actually know anything about snakes". / End image description.]

#sanders sides #janus sanders #ts janus

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