slugmoth? mothcat? i dont know but marrissa but as a slugcta from rain worl

@anomaly-beans​ submitted: I knew they lived in my area, but slugmoths are pretty rare for me to see! (MO, usa)

GREEN OAK-SLUG MOTH MY BELOVED. Want to see the caterpillar? Of course you do. Here they are...

Photo by wildcarrot

Weeping because they are too cute :’)

P.S. - Do not touch the caterpillars unless you love pain

Week 4 (Final Week) of Artfight Attacks

(Part 1, since I have quite a few left but I want to get these out here for the time being)

(I love artfight, had an absolute blast, but I’ve had one day of not doing any art whatsoever, so I’ll be embracing the end of artfight with open arms🫠)

Credits to all owners of characters in order of appearances:

Pirum (Pear-faced raptor…thing?) - Sojka on artfight

Dandelion the baby scug - @mochiilady

Pancake the doggo - MapleNeko on artfight’s IRL sheepdog

The Dreamer (who eats other scugs, so their interaction with Wandering could only go one way…) - Lonny on artfight

Aramis (Pokémon and Nightlight hybrid) - @yeenbeanz

Slugmother and her pup - Hammy4463 on artfight

SlugMoth I guess

Still Based on Rainworld SlugCats

You noticed that I say I know and I catch myself each time now. Each time I say I know, I know I don’t really know, and you know deep down I know that. So here’s what I think.

I think you’re my person. I think we were meant to meet. I think we were placed at the ends of the earth and have maneuvered closer and closer with each lifetime that passes. I think you’re my Achilles heel. I think you’re funny and maybe a little too snarky for your own good. I think you could balance out my space cadet tendencies and I could balance out your insecurities. I think we could rent apartments until you’re 110 and I’m 101 and I’d be happy. I think we could adopt a cat or dog or five. I think you’re wiser than you give yourself credit for. I think you’ve worked hard to reach where you’re at and you should be proud. I think you’re humble even when you shouldn’t be. I think you’re bad at taking compliments. I think someone put a piece of you in my chest and a piece of me in your palm and we’re like magnets trying to find our partners. I think we’re compatible and copacetic and every other word that lands in the thesaurus under “content togetherness.” I think your hair would feel nice between my fingers again. I think we’d fight over horrid wallpaper and I think we’d always make up because we’re giant suckers for one another. I think the sex would always be good. I think you think too much, I think I think too much, and I think we don’t think about how good this could be because we’re both scared. But I think you’re good. I think this is good. And I think I’m excited to see where it goes. I think when you stop worrying and I stop saying “I know” when I don’t, we’ll be ready. I think we could watch the apocalypse together and find it beautiful, because we’d be together as the world burned. I think that’s fucked up. I think that’s why it’s perfectly us.

“dreaming of a love at the end of the world”

You can spend hours of your time wanting, so much energy fuelling desire, but that doesn't mean that what you're begging for is meant for you. Hell, it doesn't even mean that you deserve it.

h.w

You’re talking to strangers and acting like you’re more than okay. You smile from ear to ear when you feel the tears approaching. You don’t know how to let it out you so block out the entrance from the inside. You love making people laugh and laughing till your stomach hurts and your eyes water. You keep chasing rainbows. You’re sitting alone in your head letting the voices talk from your brain directly into your heart. You walk on razors and your feet have no feeling in them, it started from the top of your head and trickled down throughout your body. You can’t feel it anymore you can’t feel anything. You don’t remember what it felt like to feel something so you hold on to the things that make you feel anything. You attach yourself to whatever makes you feel something. Anything. Good or bad. You’ll take any of it because you’re desperate and trying to survive, ease the pain in whatever way you can. You say everything will be alright everything will be alright everything will be alright. If you say it enough it will be okay. If it isn’t okay you can pretend. Everything will be alright. You will be okay.

(slug army)

The right music can make you invincible. That symphony of sound propelled at you through nothing but bits of plastic and metal. The booming sensation flows through you like it’s blood in your veins and it stimulates your brain to discover the potential you never knew you had. Your hair stands on edge. Your breath shortens, but all you are doing is sitting staring into empty space with nothing but these little bits of plastic and metal in your ears with a head full of thoughts being drowned out by that beautiful cacophony that makes you forget about it all.

BLUE EYES TURN BLACK YOU DON’T LOVE ME, DO YOU? WAS IT EVEN REAL?

Tonight we feast

on slugs

just feel this // 2-13-19, 11:25 pm

1. the way that you wrap your arms around me feels like coming home every time. it’s like the feeling you get in your stomach after eating freshly baked cookies, all warm and gooey.

2. the sunlight looks so beautiful on your skin, as do redlights and the stars. if i’m being honest, under any light, at anytime, i find myself falling harder for you.

3. your laugh echoes in my ears for days on end, sometimes it takes the breath right out of my lungs. i’d give up breathing if it meant i got to see that smile.

4. the memories of you and i replay in my mind like a film i could never tire of watching. we are the love story i never believed in, the novel i have never been able to write.

our love story is one i want to live in forever.

You cried to me over the phone, and I swear to fucking god, I fell in love with you during the first few sniffles. Your voice broke and your hands shook and I wanted nothing more than to close 3,000 miles and run my fingers through your hair.

I think this could be gentle, perhaps kind. It feels familiar, like we were together in past lives and on movie screens in parallel universes. I still overthink but you talk 100 miles too fast and don’t notice, and I’m grateful for that.

All of this to say: I’m glad I met you. I’m glad you asked for directions and I’m glad your destination was the same as mine. Maybe we’ll get to go through our twentieth life together, with twists on the classics that lead to your hand in mine, 3,000 miles no more.

All of this to say: you cried on the phone and I fell in love with you. There’s poetry in that, but for right now, it’s sacred in my palms.

“you’re the dream”