#my head hurts and I'm so tired

[natjennie]

that's so annoying :(

[druid-for-hire]

[images ID: three images of a comic titled "one must imagine sisyphus happy" by druid-for-hire. it is a visual narrative beginning with someone with wrist pain (depicted by bright orange nerves) working at a drafting table. the reader is shown the same wrist as the person uses it for many everyday tasks such as carrying a grocery basket, pushing elevator buttons, typing, and doing dishes, until the pain dissolves all the panels into chaos. the person then performs several physical therapy exercises until the pain subsides. they sit back down at a desk with their laptop, sigh, and begin typing. a small spark of pain reappears. end id]

a fun little piece i made during the semester and submitted into our school comic anthology! (which you can buy at the Static Fish table at MoCCAFest in NYC ;] ). it's about artists and injury

[lunarharp]

What led to this (orufrey comic, cw an uncomfortable/creepy scene)

[zaahvi]

aaand the final two for my DA-themed six fanarts challenge: elgar'nan suggested by @vitaeplaysda & bellara suggested by @the-veil-jumper! 🖤

[walkingstackofbooks]

cw: unreality, hallucinations, threatening a child

Premise: Since the war ended, Julian's been suffering from hallucinations of Sloan. Put on medical leave, he accepts the O'Briens invitation to stay with them for a while, and travels to Earth.

--

It's as pleasant a meal as it can be, given the circumstances. Julian's trying to pay attention to the conversation - and he knows Molly's saying something about whales, at least. And he's managing to load food into his fork and take a bite and count to twenty before allowing himself to glance at Sloan again. That's more than yesterday. Hah. Progress.

For the moment, Sloan doesn't seem to be doing anything more than scowling at him. It's still off-putting. Julian ducks his head, trying not to look towards Miles for reassurance. His friend has been doing enough reassuring as it is, recently - Julian doesn't need to worry him for just the standard Sloan skulking. He can ignore it. He can.

He forces himself to smile, even when Sloan starts tapping against the window in an annoyingly imprecise manner, and tells Keiko how delicious the fish is. He can't taste it, but that's not important. Sometimes, when he's eating alone, Sloan poisons his food, and then he can't eat it at all. He's grateful for the O'Briens, the way their presence seems to trap Sloan in his corner.

The tapping increases, turning into banging, and Julian steels himself, resolving not to flinch. Then, all at once, Sloan's beside him, grabbing at his arms, and Julian realises too late that he'd put his cutlery down, had been holding his hands to his ears, trying to block Sloan out.

"I won't have you ignoring me, Julian," Sloan hisses, and suddenly everything goes very still. The O'Brien's conversation dies dead as Sloan picks up Julian's fish knife, and in one slick move, holds it against Molly's throat. Julian doesn't register the clatter of his chair on the floor as he moves to stand up, staring at Sloan with fearful eyes.

"Get away from her." His voice trembles, so small that it barely belongs to him. His heart is lodged in his throat. He can't breathe.

"You were being very rude, Julian," replies Sloan. "Don't you think you should apologise?"

You're not real, Julian wants to say - but there's a knife at Molly's throat, not yet drawing blood, but Sloan's slowly pressing into her skin, and she's crying, softly - and Sloan's unfaltering, cruel gaze is real, must be real, and Julian doesn't have a doubt that the man will kill Molly, if Julian doesn't give him what he wants--

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "Just-- please-- let her go. She's got nothing to do with this."

He shouldn't be panicking. With his training, with his augmentations, he should be able to turn this situation around, think of a way out of it, grab the knife and save Molly and get Sloan away. But he can't think, his mind's blank with terror - Sloan's unpredictable, and if Julian makes one wrong move...

"Nothing to do with this?" Sloan repeats mockingly. "My dear, you've spent all dinnertime lavishing your attention on her, barely sparing me a second thought."

"I'm sorry," Julian says again, and his desperation, at least, is sincere. "I'm sorry, Sloan, but that's my fault, it's not hers, so please--"

"Luther," Sloan says. Julian stares at him, blinking in incomprehension.

"What?"

"Call me Luther," Sloan says, and Julian nods jerkily. Anything to get him away from Molly.

"Luther, please," he begs. The name leaves a sour taste on his tongue. "Put the knife down."

"And what will you give me in return?"

The air is much colder than it was a few minutes ago. Julian shivers. His mouth is dry.

"What do you want?"

His question seems to please Sloan, who smiles in response. "Oh, nothing much. Why don't you just promise me that you've learnt your lesson, and we'll leave it there, for today."

For today. If Julian wasn't so scared, he'd have laughed. Tomorrow, of course, this could happen all over again, and he had no way of stopping it.

"I promise," he says, and, "Thank you." Tomorrow aside, that could have been so much worse.

But Sloan tuts, shaking his head. Julian's done something wrong.

"I want to feel that promise," he says, "I'm not quite... convinced. Let's see, now. Promise me with a kiss."

"A--" Julian's voice shakes, and dies away. But the knife is still pressed firmly against Molly's throat. He has to do this. He swallows down the lump that has risen in his throat, and then a second, squeezing his eyes shut tightly against the tears leaking from his eyes - and then realising that Luther might not like that, and opening then again rapidly.

"Drop the knife and-- and come here then," he says. He wishes the others weren't here to watch this, but he doesn't want to push his luck by asking anything more of Sloan. So long as he leaves Molly...

The knife is placed on the table, and Julian lets out a wobbly breath. Still, he has to force himself not to step backwards as Luther comes towards him. It occurs to him to wonder about how strange a request it is, for the agent to want a kiss, rather than information, or help, or--

He's pretty sure he's crying, as Sloan's lips touch his. He couldn't tell you what they felt like, just that they're wrong, wrong, wrong, and he wants to push him away, wants to throw up, wants to run and never stop running--

Sloan caresses his cheek as he leans away. "Not bad," he whispers. "But hey. Practise makes perfect."

"Go away," Julian whispers. "Please?"

"Please, Luther," Sloan corrects, with a hard glare that turns Julian's blood to ice. But then he turns on his heel, and is gone, and Julian stumbles back against the wall, trying to remember how to breathe again.

[peapodfics]

If Looks Could Kill, Then You’d Do Better Than A Shotgun Shell

By: PlayRough / @play-rough

Concussed Dazai, and Chuuya (begrudgingly) grounding him ✨

[fisheito]

my princess nonsense is being encouraged watch ouyt imabout to be eneaabled

OK WHATF ATHAT'S SO CUTE I HAD TO MAKE IT i know realistically there's little to no chance that rei DOESN'T know how to work heels 🤣 BUT IMAGINE.....ING.... YAKUMO GENTLY GUIDING REI IN HEELS, WEEKS BEFORE THE BIG GALA AND HAVING NONE OF HIS NORMAL FEAR OF PHYSICAL TOUCH BC HIS [TEACHER MODE] IS OVERRIDING HIS INSECURITY

[batbrainrot]

guys please tell me those batman #148 leaks of jason dying again are fake. tell me they're fake right fucking now i can't fucking do this shit right now i'm off my meds

[some-pers0n]

Thank fucking god actually I'm on break right now because if I had to go to lectures and labs and god forbid take tests in this condition I'd be dead on the floor I'm so incredibly serious right now

[heckin-music-dork]

So tempted to take like 5 benadryl right now, but also I really don't feel like meeting the Hat Man tonight 🤧

[antimony-ore]

"Would you drink coffee if I made it?"

Is the Pope a threat to my way of life?

[warmestshrine]

Cannot overstate how shitty I feel today, but I did scrub the bloodstains off my sheets which is a major win because usually I'm so depression apathetic about that, like "whatever it doesn't even matter I'll just sleep in dried blood who cares" but actually I do deserve to sleep in clean sheets. Also I just shared some cubes of cheese with the dog so we're doing pretty good after all, I guess.

[tin-wufborf]

Well. As is always the case in my life, it CAN get worse.

Found out last week that my mom has a mass in her bladder. Doctors confirmed today that it's cancer. Won't know more until they remove it and biopsy it next month, but they do know it's cancer.

I don't talk about my private life here a lot because I like to keep some things for myself, but I want to talk about this because. Well, it's my mom.

You see, I'm one of the lucky ones. I have a great mom. A really fucking fantastic mom. She is the most important person in the world to me, and I am terrified that I might lose her.

My mom had me when she was 17 years old. Her father kicked her out of the house when he found out that she was pregnant, and her mother wouldn't take when she found out. She got lucky because her best friend's mom was ready and willing to take her in. That woman gave my mom and I a safe place to land, gave my mom somewhere safe so she could start building a life for us.

And she built us a wonderful life. She has sisters and brothers, nieces, nephews, and cousins outside of her own blood because she managed to find the time to build a family while raising two kids (did I mention that she took my sister in when she was only 19 years old and my sister and I were both 2?) and holding down a 9-to-5 at the same time. I have a huge extended family because of my mom full of people from all walks of life, and I am so grateful for it. My mom taught me how to love people for who they are, not what they are, and I am all the better for it.

All of this to say that my mom is great. She's great, and she's sick, and I am going to lose my mind if this is the thing that gets her. She's fought too fucking hard for this life, and she doesn't fucking deserve this shit.

Fuck.

[circumcisedgirl]

i'm so cold but i know if i get comfy and cozy and warm under my blankets i will fall asleep and i need to write this essay. there isn't a word count to hit but my flop prof says to aim for around 5 pages and i've written ALMOST a page yay

[simplepotatofarmer]

today is the only day i don't have to babysit this week and for some reason i'm so exhausted i'm getting nothing done ;__;

[pvmpkinzz]

am desperately wanting to lay my head in someone's lap, feel their hand on my head as they pet me