#i want my body to be comfortable again

[fuckthisshitimin]

Eat

"You don't cook."

It's all Sebastian can think to say, all Sebastian can think at all. His mind is a blur these days - nightmares, and the new meds, maybe? He can't remember when it started to feel like that, it's far from an all time low still, so he'll take it.

There's a heavy looking stewpot on the kitchen table, Styx had to move a couple (a dozen) empty coffee mugs to put it here, and he started cleaning another pot, taking a pack of uncooked rice out of his pocket like it's something absolutely normal to carry.

"Nah, I don't like to cook, not the same."

It's maybe one of the first things Sebastian had learnt about Styx. Mysterious, foul-mouthed Styx. A stray black cat that miraculously let him into its life.

"Then why are you cooking?"

"Well that's what best friends are for, right? Suffering mild inconveniences to make sure the other doesn't fucking die?"

Sebastian attempts a laugh, but it doesn't seem to be what Styx is going for. He rinses the pot, fills it with water, turns the hob on. He doesn't add salt. Sebastian always boils saltwater. Well, except for coffee. Which reminds him- "Bastian, how long have I know you?"

"Five years." He picks his current mug up from the ground, waltzes around Styx to refill it with coffee, put it in the microwave. He watches the mug rotating, sickly porcelain under the yellow light. He doesn't remember what he was doing before Styx came in. It's nearing eight in the morning, maybe he was off to bed.

"And do you know how old I am?"

"No. What, have you finally decided to tell me?"

"Dream on. But I've been around for decades before you were born, and chances are, I'm gonna be around for decades after you're gone. You're gonna die on me, mate."

Strange thought. Strange idea, to say it out loud. Sebastian knows Styx is old - too old. Like a vampire or something. He opens the microwave before it beeps, blows on the coffee to assess the temperature. Just a little more. Thirty seconds.

"And I made peace with that. Mostly. When you stormed into my life like the petulant nuisance you are I thought 'Oh, shit, I'm gonna follow this idiot till the day he dies'," seventeen seconds, "and so I know, I always knew. But I'm not gonna let you wilt away like a houseplant."

Five seconds, Sebastian takes the mug out. Blows on it. Just right. "I don't know what you mean."

"You're melting."

Again, a strange choice of words. Styx chooses strange words all the time. Again, Sebastian is tired. Sitting on his bed might be his best choice. He crashes there. "When was the last time you ate a full meal?"

"I dunno. Yesterday? Dinner?"

Instant noodles. It's a meal. It's literally a meal. It's not that long ago, and he had snacks, too. Lots of snacks. Too many? He didn't count. There were moments he had to eat something, and he did. Surely that is enough.

"You can't do this shit to me, Bastian. D' you know what it feels like, to be skinny?"

Of course he knows. His noodle arms are here for that. For all the time Sebastian has known him, Styx has never been particularly thin. His thighs are full, his arms, soft, his stomach round. He puts the stewpot on the second hob, curry, maybe. "I don't-"

"I've fucken been there, kay? And right now you don't see it, but I see it."

The water boils, and Styx pours the rice in it, before joining his best friend on the bed. Dirty laundry by his pillow. The duvet is out of the sheets. It's a bit of a mess, but Styx's place is messier, and Sebastian lights a cigarette. Misplaced satisfaction, like his ribs when he scratches his back. He remembers he was real skinny once, too, he remembers he liked how small his boobs got when he ate just a little, just a little less - now his chest is flat, it is not an issue. The ribs, still. A drop of left-over euphoria.

Styx opens his mouth wide, and Sebastian wonders if he got a new piercing for his tongue, but he points at two teeth. "Those are fake. The real ones died in my mouth because I was too fucked in the head to eat properly." He should have lowered the heat on the rice - and salt, he didn't put salt in. Sebastian doesn't get up to correct it. He looks at Styx's teeth.

"Being underweight hurts. You get used to it. Get used to being cold, all, the, bloody, time, you bruise more easily. Everything bruises. Sitting on the floor for too long. Leaning on the fucking wall. And you don't really notice, because it's normal now."

There are red and purple bruises all over Sebastian's knees. He didn't do anything too extreme. He bruises easily. Always has. Probably. He pulls the duvet towards him, covering his legs.

"Wounds take longer to heal, too. And you get sick. And you get used to it, too, I got used to my throat being sore like I got used to my knees aching after walking a fucking mile, and it took a decade to get my head out of this crap. You're smart, Bastian, like me. Don't think you're too smart to fall for this shit."

He is, still. He eats enough. He toes the line. He's not underweight - or barely. He is, just barely. He did the math. He can still work. His body is okay enough.

"Because that's not how it works. It's worse when you're smart, cause your mind is so goddamn good at tricking you, at arguing against the people telling you you're not okay, telling you you can toe the line between a disordered eating and an eating disorder just for science, as an experiment - but you're just getting worse."

Sebastian thinks it's maybe the longest he's ever heard Styx talk at once.

"Fucking around and finding out with your health is bullshit. I should be dead, Fen." It's been years since Styx called him that. He can't imagine a world where Styx is dead. No, no. "This is an experiment, but you're the subject, and the rot in your brain tries to convince you you're the scientist."

The smoke on Sebastian's tongue brings nausea. He doesn't like the feeling - scrutiny. Helplessness.

"Not eating is not gaining control. I promise. I swear to Christ."

It rings like a doom bell. It echoes in the empty pit of Sebastian's stomach, where guilt lives, allowing no roommate.

"Shit."

"Yeah. It's shit. I took some books, so I can stay a few days. But I'm not leaving until you eat."

Black eyes. Wet and shiny. Sebastian isn't hungry - and he knows Styx has a point. He knows there is a rot in his brain, that lies. It speaks with his voice, when it promises he'll eat later. It likes his bones bare. It recoils at the thought of getting better. Fatter. Happier. It recoils beneath Styx's eyes.

"Okay."

[basalting]

after jasons death bruce "accidentally" slips harvey a crowbar while hes in arkham and kisses his cheek and says, voice soft and colder than ice, "make him hurt for me honey"

it takes 6 guards to sedate and drag two face off the joker the next time two face sees him and for the rest of their lives as soon as harvey sees the joker he goes after him like a rabid dog.

[bunnieswithknives]

erm can we see more deer dale he's so silly

Deer Dale!!! Now with full antler face like I initially intended but could not figure out how to draw at the time

[martyryo]

long hair marla long hair marla long hair marla lo

[bixels]

So I l’ve been getting into your ko crisis story lately (it all sounds rlly awesome btw) and i was curious - you’ve said in the tags in a previous ask that ash is comphet, so is that gonna play a major role in her character arc/journey in any way?

Yeah, the story basically covers her journey of redefining her identity as a queer Asian-American disabled woman in a sports-entertainment industry, which is a media landscape that specifically targets, exploits, and fetishizes people like her.

[chrliekclly]

charden is v important to me bcuz they recognize their traumas n each othr...

[sergle]

I feel you, its so bad 😭, I had to go on a functioning adult human schedule for school and good god, out the house by 7am... bad bitches are not built for that..

WE REALLY ARE... and man, I can brute force myself into any schedule if there are things that HAVE to be done at certain times (like school, like you said) but it absolutely never feels "right". it feels like waking up at 3am to go to the airport type of shit. and it is truly so annoying... to get hit with the "that's a Normal schedule, you need to Fix your schedule" okay. alright. but let me hit you with this one. is it "normal" or is it just conducive to a 8 - 5. because no matter what my sleep schedule is like, or how locked in I am, I'm more clear headed at night + more productive and energetic. and no matter what, I'm tired during the day, especially the brightest times of day when the sun is allegedly supposed to be signaling my brain to be awake and alert. and it doesn't matter how much sleep I got.

[nyatbinary-81]

@vulpixisananimal sifstem art jumpscare!! more specifically i got bored and decided to mess around with sif and mal's outfits.

[pawl3ss]

Just watched the newest tadc episode

[whack-patty]

Buster Moon but he got GOT by The Thing

Lol

[skitskatdacat63]

"Death is nothing, but to live defeated and inglorious is to die daily."

+ process(tw blood)

Also, look at him, bloody little guy 🥹

This drawing was inspired by several matador pics :D here and here:

^ I don't think I'll ever live up to the second one ah. There's several pics of that specific guy just soaked with blood, and I'm uh a bit obsessed with then ITS FUCKED UP I KNOW OKAY! But I've not drawn blood in a while so it was a bit difficult so I added less than I would want to I guess. Also I'm obsessed with how often they kneel in bullfighting?? Like okay who are you arching your back and spreading your legs for-

[possamble]

Do you have any plan to make some kind of bonus chapter or oneshot about marcille's perspective in little creature? It's not like I'm asking you for it ofc!! it's just that i think it'll be interesting to read, and especially since you had those tags about marcille after her fight/outburst with falin and how you couldn't add it to the fic because the fic is from falin's perspective

Probably not about anything that happens during a little creature, but maybe something before or after? Sometimes I do like to do "the other character thinking back to events while doing stuff in a sequel" oneshot type thing, but we'll see how it shakes out!

[phagodyke]

the masculine urge to take a saucepan off thr draining board and bash myself repeatedly over the head with it until I pass out and no longer have to experience feeling Bad 😍

[darlingpwease]

WEI WUXIAN, who is afraid of childbirth and pregnancy, and wants to have adopted puppies sooner than ever give birth to them, because he knows a lot of stories about painful childbirth and death during them, and the very thought of pregnancy makes him feel terrible —

♡

alpha!reader who makes a lot of nests and brings clothes so that your omega can hide in them, but at the same time you completely lack any desire to have biological puppies, even if your parental instinct is very active and even aggressive in manifestation — but you completely spend it on your husband, who remains an eternal puppy.

[acourtofquestions]

Rowaelin Chapter 41 Kingdom of Ash:

She'd rebuild it—what she had been.

Perhaps one last time, perhaps only for a little while, but she'd do it. If only for Terrasen.

Rowan swooped from the mast, shifting as he reached her side at the rail. He surveyed the night-black sea beyond them. "You should rest." She slid him a glance. "I'm not tired." Not a lie, not in some regards. "Want to spar?" He frowned. "Training can start tomorrow."

"Or tonight." She held his piercing stare, matched his dominance with her own.

"It can wait a few hours, Aelin."

"Every day counts." Against Erawan, even a day of training would count.

Rowan's jaw tightened. "True," he said at last. "But it can still wait. There are ... there are things we need to discuss." The silent words rose in his animal-bright eyes. About you and me.

Her mouth went dry. But Aelin nodded In silence, they strode into their spacious quarters, its only decoration the wall of windows that overlooked the churning sea behind them. A far cry from a queen's chamber, or any she might have purchased as Adarlan's assassin.

At least the bed built into the wall looked clean enough, the sheets crisp and stainless. But Aelin headed for the oak desk anchored to the floor, and leaned against it while Rowan shut the door.

In the dim lantern light, they stared at each other.

She'd endured Maeve and Cairn; she'd endured Endovier and countless other horrors and losses. She could have this conversation with him. The first step toward rebuilding herself.

Aelin knew Rowan could hear her thundering heart as the space between them went taut. She swallowed once. "Elide and Lorcan told you... told you everything that was said on that beach."

A curt nod, wariness flooding his eyes. "Everything that Maeve said." Another nod.

She braced herself. "That I'm-we're mates."

Understanding and something like relief replaced that wariness. "Yes."

"I'm your mate," she said, needing to voice it. "And you are mine."

Rowan crossed the room, but halted a few feet from the desk on which she leaned. "What of it, Aelin?" His question was low, rough.

"Don't you..." She scrubbed at her face. "You know what she did to you, to ..." She couldn't say her name. Lyria. "Because of it."

"I do know."

"And?"

"And what do you wish me to say?"

She pushed off the desk. "I wish you to tell me how you feel about it. If…"

"If what?"

"If you wish it wasn't so."

His brows narrowed. "Why would I ever wish that?"

She shook her head, unable to answer, and stared over her shoulder toward the sea.

It seemed like he would close the distance between them, but he remained where he was.

"Aelin." His voice turned hoarse. "Aelin."

She looked at him then, at the pain in his words.

"Do you know what I wish?" He exposed his palms, one tattooed, the other unmarked. "I wish that you had told me. When you realized it. I wish you had told me then."

She swallowed against the ache in her throat. "I didn't want to hurt you."

"Why would it ever hurt me to know the truth that was already in my heart? The truth I hoped for?"

"I didn't understand it. I didn't understand how it was possible. I thought maybe ... maybe you might be able to have two mates within a lifetime, but even then, I just ….." She blew out a breath. "I didn't want you to be distressed." His eyes softened. "Do I regret that Lyria was dragged into this, that the cost of Maeve's game was her life, and the life of the child we might have had? Yes. I regret that, and I wish it had never happened." He would bear the tattoo to remember it for the rest of his days. "But none of that was your fault. I will always carry some of the burden of it, always know I chose to leave her for war and glory, and that I played right into Maeve's hands."

"Maeve wanted to ensnare you to get to me, though."

"Then it is her choice, not yours."

Aelin ran a hand over the worn wood of the desk. "In those illusions she spun for me, she showed me variations on one more than all the others." The words were strained, but she forced them out. Forced herself to look at him. "She spun me one dreamscape that felt so real I could smell the wind off the Staghorns."

"What did she show you?" A breathless question.

Aelin had to swallow before she could answer. "She showed me what might have been—if there had been no Erawan, if Elena had dealt with him properly and banished him. If there had been no Lyria, none of that pain or despair you endured. She showed me Terrasen as it would have been today, with my father as king, and my childhood happy, and..." Her lips wobbled. "When I turned twenty, you came with a delegation of Fae to Terrasen, to make amends for the rift between my mother and Maeve. And you and I took one look at each other in my father's throne room, and we knew."

She didn't fight the stinging in her eyes. "I wanted to believe that was the true world. That this was the nightmare from which I'd awaken. I wanted to believe that there was a place where you and I had never known this suffering and loss, where we'd take one look at each other and know we were mates. Maeve told me she could make it so. If I gave her the keys, she'd make it all possible." She wiped at her cheek, at the tear that escaped down it. "She spun me realities where you were dead, where you'd been killed by Erawan and only in handing over the keys to her would I be able to avenge you. But those realities made me ... I stopped being useful to her when she told me you were gone. She couldn't get me to talk, to think. Yet in the ones where you and I met, where things were as they should have been ... that was when I came the closest."

His swallow was audible. "What stopped you?"

She wiped at her face again. "The male I fell in love with was you. It was you, who knew pain as I did, and who walked with me through it, back to the light. Maeve didn't understand that. That even if she could create that perfect world, it wouldn't be you with me. And I'd never trade that, trade this. Not for anything." He extended his hand. An offer and invitation.

Aelin laid hers atop his, and his callused fingers squeezed gently. "I wanted it to be you," he breathed, closing his eyes. "For months and months, even in Wendlyn, I wondered why you weren't my mate instead. It tore me up, wondering it, but I still did." He opened his eyes, and they burned like green fire. "All this time, I wanted it to be you."

She lowered her gaze, but he hooked a thumb and forefinger around her chin and lifted her face.

"I know you are tired, Fireheart. I know that the burden on your shoulders is more than anyone should endure." He took their joined hands and laid them on his heart. "But we'll face this together. Erawan, the Lock, all of it.

"We'll face it together. And when we are done, when you Settle, we will have a thousand years together. Longer."

A small sound came out of her. "Elena said the Lock requires—"

"We'll face it together," he swore again.

"And if the cost of it truly is you, then we'll pay it together. As one soul in two bodies.

Her heart strained to the point of cleaving. "Terrasen needs a king."

"I have no intention of ruling Terrasen without you. Aedion can have the job."

She scanned his face. He meant every word He brushed the hair from her face, his other hand still clasping hers to his chest, where his heart pounded a steady, unfaltering rhythm.

"Even if I had my choice of any dream-realities, any perfect illusions, I would still choose you, too."

She felt the truth of his words echo into the unbreakable thing that bound their very souls, and tilted her face up toward his. But he made no move beyond it.

She frowned. "Why aren't you kissing me?"

"I thought you might want to be asked first."

"That never stopped you before."

"This first time, I wanted to make sure you were ... ready." After Cairn and Maeve. After months of having no choices whatsoever.

She smiled despite that truth. "I'm ready to be kissed again, Prince."

He let out a dark chuckle and muttered, "Thank the gods," before he lowered his mouth to hers.

"You're my mate." Her words were a breathless rush. "And I am yours."

The world might have been burning around them for all she cared, all he cared, too.

"Together, Aelin," he promised, and she heard the rest of the words in every place their bodies joined. Together they would face this, together they would find a way.

Together we'll find a way, their mingling breaths, the crashing sea, seemed to echo.

Together.

[jubburb]

SatoSuguᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི

Looking at the stars ✮

(Lives/afterlives)

From time to time, although not that often, Satoru and Suguru would go stargazing. They're too busy living out the best of their ( ), just being in each other's presence.

It's been far too long since they had this much peace, considering they were on opposing sides. But now, they finally have what they wanted, what they needed the most.

"It was lonely. You know that, right Suguru?"

"You gave me too much free will Satoru, of course I know. But I won't say I regretted my actions, knowing fully well it's too late."

He stated, looking at the stars.

"Don't blame yourself Satoru."

The time they spent talking, Gojo was looking at Geto, his eyes full of pain, regret, and guilt.

He turned to the sky, the comets and stars shimmering. The moon was especially pretty today.

"The moon is beautiful, isn't it?"

Gojo smiles, knowing Suguru knew what he meant.

"It truly is beautiful.."

...

"Me too."

He finally looked at him in the eye.

࣪ ִֶָ☾.── .✦

✮⋆˙You can fill in the blanks with lives/afterlives. This is leaning towards more where they are already dead, living in the afterlife. But if you want to read it as if they are still alive, then go for it.

-Jღ

The ways in which you talk to me, "sugudu" have me wishing I were gone, "SAT OR OOO" - C's shenanigans..