[ID: A Full-body Drawing Of Jon And Martin From The Magnus Archives Kissing In A Supply Closet. Jon Is

[ID: A full-body drawing of Jon and Martin from the Magnus Archives kissing in a supply closet. Jon is a thin tall Indian man with long, dark curly hair. Martin is a fat white man with short hair and glasses who is slightly shorter than Jon. The drawing is rendered in murky green colors, with highlights in yellow. Martin leaned back against a shelf, tilting back under his weight, causing items on the shelf to fall backward. Jon is pressing Martin into the shelf, holding Martin's face in one hand and holding on to the shelf to keep it from falling with the other. Martin clutches Jon's shirt, and holds the back of his head. They are illuminated from above by a single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling.

The supply closet is cramped and dirty and filled with many items on shelves. Items include cleaning supplies, boxes, and crumpled paper. Strings of black magnetic tape hang from various shelves and from the ceiling. A mop hangs on one wall near a bucket labeled "MOP WATER (HAUNTED)." There is a CO2 fire extinguisher on the ground, close to a tape recorder, with spools of magnetic tape unfurling from inside. There are two jars labeled "???" on different shelves. One of the jars appears to have eyeballs floating in murky water, while the other has a vague bulbous shape inside that could be a large worm or an organ of some kind. Two ghostly faces are hidden in the drawing, one under a shelf and one in a box. End Image ID]

KISS A MAN IN A HAUNTED CLOSET (still technically kinda in time for @jonmartinweek :3 office romance prompt)

POV: you’re recording thunderstorm ambience at midnight while the university students playing in the rain scream every time there’s a particularly big flash of lightning

truthfully, my soul longs

for the warm embrace of faith in something bigger,

just as much as it rejects

the cold handshake of the vengeful God

(or a God’s vengeful believers,

depending how you see it).

no, i seek not religion;

like the atoms of my very being

i crave the emergence of crystals.

could i be greater than the sum of my parts?

is there a someone

or a something

who walked through the dingy magick store of space-time

and rifled through the gently clinking boxes of rocks and gems

and somehow

amongst the clutter and sparkle

chose to pick me up,

dust me off,

and take me home?

am i to one day be displayed

on the trinket shelf of the universe?

perhaps this is the journey of life:

being carried softly home

and placed amongst the precious things

as a tender voice says

“oh, aren’t you beautiful?”

scenes from ireland

researchers at MIT have proven their hypothesis that "eyeballin' it" is the most accurate form of measurement

(Link to Deadline article)