#not to mention exhausted

[dragongirlbunny]

i wish my body just had a diagnostics panel that lists out all of my issues

[emotionaleating]

pls don’t flirt with me i want to be nonchalant so bad but i unfortunately crave connection so intensely that i will give you my entire soul and forgive you over and over until i’ve lost myself completely and feel like i’m drowning

[just-null]

Do you ever do requests? If so, do you ever plan on drawing some Yandere with the Hantengu clones? :D hope you have a good day/night!!!

Mentioning an unfamiliar name

yes!! I love yanderes.. and these guys.. these guys are such good material...... nods nods..

I'm not sure about requests..I assume you mean drawing requests? I suppose if it REALLY catches my interest enough, I'd do it, but it'd probably just be line art/sketches.

[martyr-inthedark]

Make your Whumpee tired.

Whumpees that have been deprived of sleep by Whumper, so much so that they don't remember how to walk in a straight line and can't figure out whether the recent appearance of little black bugs in their cell are real or a hallucination.

Whumpees that can't get a full night's rest. They doze off, only to be jolted awake by their own anxiety of not knowing when Whumper would come back. Perhaps they are awakened by phlegm-coated coughs induced by their illness. They are awakened by nightmares, or by Caregiver who is worried they may succumb to hypothermia, or by a thunderstorm, or the rough blanket scratching their open wounds, or so on.

Whumpees who pull all nighters to protect their friends or lovers.

Whumpees whose eyes burn when they finally can close their eyes. Whumpees whose muscles twitch, who can't stop yawning no matter how hard they try to stifle it. Whumpees with dark, glassy eyes. Whumpees who are slow to react or have a hard time keeping up with the conversation. Whumpees with throbbing headaches. Whumpees with brain fog and memory loss.

Whumpees who have been on the run and have over exhausted their bodies. Their muscles and joints continue to scream long after its over. Whumpees with extensive blood loss. Whumpees who are malnourished.

Whumpees whose survivor's guilt keeps them awake, wondering what they might have done differently, whether it was all their fault, or why they were the ones to live.

Whumpees whose bodies are in chronic pain or illness and who have to hide it, causing muscle and mental fatigue. They keep going with a smile until they collapse or pass out.

Whumpees who break down in tears, begging to be left alone so they can rest. Whumpees who sob when they are told that the bed in front of them is theirs to use whenever they want.

[zykamiliah]

girl it's not that shen yuan forgives the atrocities, the atrocities were part of the enjoyment while luo binghe was a fictional character, the atrocities gave the fans a hard on because it was a dark power fantasy. but when luo binghe became a REAL person it turned into a REAL issue that's what half the novel is about

[syoddeye]

by some miracle, you nab the last campsite. the online reservation system is spotty, but you submit the form, pay the fee, and receive a confirmation.

the trip is a bright spot at the end of a long tunnel. something to look forward to.

so, of course, it rains.

you drive through a downpour that starts as soon as you leave the city limits.

the rain falls in sheets, rendering the windshield wipers near useless, their frantic motion only barely carving out the view ahead. you grip the wheel like a lifeline, feeling your car lean with each curve of the road, the faintest slip of the tires against wet pavement sending a tremor through your arms.

the trees on either side are shapeless blobs, their trunks blurred by the water streaming down the glass. your focus narrows on the lines and the rhythmic drumming of rain that drowns out everything else.

you just need to get there in one piece and wait it out. you will leaf peep. you will hike. you will cuddle up with your sleeping bag and quilt and finish a goddamn book for once. you need this weekend to relax.

however, there's a small crowd when you reach the park and stop at the ranger station to check-in. you're told that, unfortunately, the lower-lying campsites are currently washed out. there's no immediate danger, but folks who reserved spots in that section are out of luck.

some deal with the news better than others. families make alternative arrangements or turn around to head home. some take it out on the rangers, their conversations unfair and heated. you?

you mirror the weather outside. as you sink into a chair, big, hot tears roll down your cheeks. it took you three and a half hours to get here. you left right after a long day of work. you're tired and upset, and now you have to drive back home, back through the storm, and the sun is on its way down.

"you alright?"

you lift your head at the deep, charred voice of a man and find a pair of eyes the color of cloudburst staring down at you.

"what am i sayin, 'course not. your campsite’s flooded, right?"

the man crouches in front of you, draping two thick, forearms bulging the sleeves of a rain-soaked anorak over his knees for balance. his mouth twitches into an easy smile under a mustache, though it's the mutton chops that draw your gaze. old-fashioned. kind of giving off a rugged, mountain man vibe.

he pulls a handkerchief from his pocket, and offers it. “name’s john.”

"yeah," you rasp, then clear your throat, compelled to fix your posture by john’s attention alone. you pluck the flannel square from his hand, and dab your tears away. "yes. you too?"

he shakes his head. "no. reserved one of the cabins up in the hills.”

you resist the urge to wrinkle your nose at that. despite being rustic and bare-bones, the cabins cost ten times more than the regular tent or car camping spots. out of your budget. unkindly, you think, must be nice.

"oh. lucky you." you sniffle, wiping the last of your tears with a thumb. "well. i should hit the road before it gets too dark..."

as you stand, he rises. you're closer than you ought to be, and catch a whiff of tobacco and benzoin. rain. he's tall enough that you need to crane your neck. heat gathers in the hollow of your throat when you notice the flecks gray in his beard and hair. you swallow, internal conflict erupting in your brain. he's handsome, yeah, but he's a complete stranger in your personal space.

to your pleasant surprise, john seems to register whatever uncertainty shows on your face and takes a big step back. he scratches his cheek. "listen, miss…?”

you blink, supplying your name after a delay.

he repeats it, the corner of his mouth lifting in a cautious smile. “i'm visitin' for the weekend and the cabin's got a spare room, if you need some shuteye before headin' home."

you hesitate, eyes narrowing.

"there is, honest. just thought i'd offer. you wouldn't have to pay me."

"free and out of the goodness of your heart? why me? why not someone else? a couple or a family?"

john follows your glance around the station, lingering on the remaining groups you pointed out. he shakes his head.

"the second room's too small for some parents and their kids. and i'm not inclined to invite a...couple, as i'd like to have a quiet and restful weekend. and if you insist, you can pay half"

his tone cracks your resolve. makes you smile. almost. you study him closely, briefly, as he looks around the room again. the beard's memorable and if he's rented the cabin, the rangers should have his information and a card on file. you have a folding knife and bear mace. and you really don't want to drive with the current conditions outside.

"...okay, john. i'll take the room," you begin, heart thudding when he meets your eye. "but i'm going to check in with the rangers. i'm sure you understand."

his face splits with a grin. "of course. smart girl."

the ranger you speak to gives you a long look when you explain the situation. you get the feeling they’re not supposed to let campers double up without paying the proper fee, but they’re just as tired as you. after taking down your information and confirming his, you join john at the entrance.

you follow his truck up a series of hills, and park behind him. you expect him to dash to the cabin door, but you find him at your door instead. you don’t have much, just a backpack and a carry-all, but he yanks both from the backseat and carries them to the porch. no time to argue. too loud with the rain, anyway.

by the time you’re indoors, you’re both soaked to the bone. he shrugs off your thanks.

“here it is.” he announces as he leads you to the second room.

like the rest of the cabin, it’s spartan but functional. better than trying to stake a tent in mud, that’s for sure. when he leaves you to it, you check the deadbolt attached to the door and sigh in relief. this might just work.

you unroll and unzip your sleeping bag over the plastic mattress, and spread your quilt out over the top. you’re stuck using a lumpy folded sweatshirt for a pillow, but you can’t complain. the storm outside rages on, and a handsome stranger’s taken you in for the night.

john checks in once before he turns in, after which you lock the door. sleep comes easier than you thought it would, reality feeding fantasy as you drift off.

in the morning, you emerge well-rested, but still undecided as to whether or not you’ll stick around for the rest of the weekend.

the smell of smoke hits and lures you to the cabin’s door. beyond, john sits with his back to the structure, poking at a fire with one hand and cradles a book in the other. a pot and pan sit atop a rack.

“morning.” you greet politely, stomach rumbling at the sight of bacon and eggs cooking over the open flame. a torturous viewing with half of a protein bar in hand. your boots squelch in a patch of mud, the ground absolutely saturated from the rain.

“morning.” john replies. “sleep alright?”

“yes, thank you. i don’t know if i would’ve made it if i drove last night.”

he makes a contemplative noise at that.

you chew your poor excuse for a meal and steal a glance at his book. it’s a local birding guide. you suppress a smile, amused. you always thought birding was a hobby for old folks.

you take another forced bite, wondering if it’s even worth to trekking to a trailhead. chances are more than one’s washed out.

“care for a little more sustenance?”

“oh, no, thank you. you’ve done enough.”

john clicks his tongue and sets his book aside to pull the cast iron from the flame. “i insist. gonna need the energy to hike.” he shovels a fried egg and slice of bacon onto a steel plate, then reaches for a matching cup. “coffee?”

“oh—you don’t need to—okay.” you try to protest, but he hands you the meal without waiting for an answer. you abandon the protein bar on the edge of the plate. “i don’t know if i’m going to hike.”

“no? you gonna hit the road?”

“haven’t decided that either.”

john nods. “well, my offer’s good all weekend. i don’t mind company.”

“so long as your time’s quiet and restful?”

he grins. “correct.”

conversation flows easier than you thought it would, given the semi-awkward circumstances. you learn he’s ex-military. retired. that he’s roadtripping the country until he hits snow, then heading south to visit friends. he likes cigars, bourbon, and birds. the latter being a recent development.

“why birding?”

“doc said it’d help with stress. counteract my vices.”

you take a bite of bacon, gesticulating with the rest. “makes sense. see anything neat?”

“a couple of grebe, some heron.”

“anything particularly rare?”

he doesn’t answer for a beat, leading you to glance his way. your eyebrows lift when you catch him staring, and push higher when he stammers. he clears his throat hard and slams his fist hard into his chest with a cough.

“maybe. can’t be sure. still learnin’ how to spot them.”

the tips of his ears match the tanager you spot in the trees.

(john misses it.)

[dumbbitchdisaster]

I don’t think i’ll ever be able to truly let go of these thoughts. How do you lose a habit you’ve had your whole life…

[sanguinewolves]

just. ugh. youll say “i am experiencing something that is a literal textbook symptom of the disorder i have” and nts will tell you youre making it up and its obviously not a real thing

[piggiebonez]

i drew this shit maybe 2 months ago or something whatevar

Z4DRS DNI my glorious warriors eat them alive

[tiredandsleepyaf]

Ok, so let me explain why rebloging posts like these do little to nothing to assure Jews that they’ll be safe around you.

Goyim reblogging this stuff don’t typically listen to Jews (which is apparent because we’ve said stuff like this doesn’t actually do anything to help us many times) about their experiences with antisemitism or listen when Jews try to educate them on things like antisemitic dog whistles or blood libel. Most of them are way more enthusiastic about punching Nazis than they are about showing any compassion to Jews. I’d venture to guess the majority of Jewish people know that often the goyim who reblog this stuff are just out for blood and don’t give a damn about us, because we’ve seen this many times. Not to mention that the desire for a violent revolution that some leftists seem to have has led to Jewish people facing a lot of antisemitism (at their hands). I would bet that some of the people reblogging this act similar to Nazis themselves. I know at the very least the goyim rebloging this don’t listen to Jews because we’ve said many times that this sort of thing doesn’t really do anything to help us, and we’d much rather goyim call out and learn about antisemitism. Overall, it’s just very performative activism, and it’s pretty obvious that the goyim reblogging this are just doing it to try and make themselves look better, and not for the sake of Jews.

[yayll]

~ a little something about you and Dazai trying to love each other a little bit less ~

It's Sakura season, and it's not being shared with someone you love. That's fine, you think to yourself as you sit on the bench, the sunset overlooks the port and you have the park to yourself. The fragile petals fall all around you, covering you in flakes of pink, like snow that won't melt. Though they will shrivel up, you think that might be worse than the instant loss of a melting snowflake. The thing about snowflakes is they melt upon warm contact but these petals won't melt at the touch of cold nor warmth, they'll lie there until their beauty fades along with what's left of their fleeting life. You stare at one in particular as it lands into your coffee cup, floating at the top instead of sinking.

That's what it was like to be in love with Osamu Dazai, and what it was like to sense his dreadful presence approaching you like the wind billows on a starless night. You ignore him, staring down at your coffee cup like it's going to save you, knowing it won't. In your peripheral vision, he looks spectral, and you catch a wave trying to get you to look up along with a familiar voice that reeks of faux friendliness.

"Are you always this avoidant when people try to greet you?"

You bite the soft flesh inside of your cheek, gripping your coffee just a bit tighter, unresponsive.

He continues, hands tucked into his coat and a smirk on his face.

"The blooms are nice today, eh? At their peak. Thought I'd stop by to enjoy them but it seems someone's already taken my favorite bench. At my favorite spot. What a shame."

After another long pause, his voice loses the playful edge and he says your name in a firm tone. This causes you to finally snap to attention, eyes wide and as fragile as those petals that shower you both. He smiles once more, but it's uglier this time, mocking. You mirror him by calling out to him right back, a hint of bitterness in your voice.

"Dazai."

He steps closer, towering over you. He always thought you looked best when you were looking up at him. It would almost sting that you're using his last name if it weren't for the fact that it sounded so good coming out of your mouth. He leans down to you just a tad bit.

"Sooo flustered..."

"I'm not flustered."

It's a joy to know he can still make you feel something, you were always wearing your heart on your sleeve, and your emotions on your precious little face. He sighs dramatically, waving his arms around.

"Mhm, sure you're not. You're lying... And it's honestly boring me to death! And I love death!"

You look away towards the port and roll your eyes, a quiet scoff escaping you along with it.

"Oh, so we're doing this."

It's almost like they're flirting, he thinks. Just like old times, maybe. It sends a thrill down his spine.

"Yes. We are."

You smile faintly, but it disappears just as fast as it materialized.

"I'll head out now and leave you to your favorite bench at your favorite spot, then."

He doesn't even allow you the chance to stand up before he shifts to stand fully in your way, imposing himself with an unreadable expression on his face that's hiding his real thoughts.

"Stay here a minute, I'd like to ask you a tiny little thing."

You tilt your head, the way you used to every time he perplexed you with some nonsense he'd spew out either to toy with you or when he'd say those three poisonous words you could never handle hearing from him.

"Dazai, I don't know if that's wise..."

He knew what you meant by that, because if you stayed like all the other times, you'd never leave. He sees the effect he has on you and he uses that to his advantage. His voice softens, something you aren't used to anymore.

"... But will you do it anyway? Stay here?"

You bite the corner of your lip and sigh... Of course you do.

"I guess... I will."

His eyes narrow and he fights back a smile at the thought of being able to stump you like this.

He's not sure where he's going with this but he's sure he'll think of something to say, he just wants to keep talking to you a little longer. He invades your personal space, and almost reaches out to place a hand on your face but decides not to, opting to keep the unbalanced dynamic going. You breathe out, unable to handle the silence, your cheeks already turning pink.

"Seems to me like you're stalling."

He observes you knowing how desperate you are to hear what he has to say, enjoying the moment of simply holding your gaze when he really should think of what the hell to ask you. He becomes dangerously close, his voice taking on a velvety approach with that lazy smile you love so much.

"Me? I'm doing nothing of the sort."

You look down at your shoes shamefully, something that would have made you so giddy to hear before now just feels like a slap to the face. Your eyes flicker to the way his hands now rest at his sides and it makes you wish they were wrapped around your neck instead. It all causes you to mumble without thinking.

"You always want to stop me from something... You keep me frozen in time."

He tilts his head, finally reaching out to take your hand but when you don't meet him halfway he settles for hooking his pinky around yours instead. He won't move it until you do first.

"Is that so bad? To be frozen by me?"

You're losing this battle, you know that because you can feel your heartbeat in your pinky when he tightens it just a little but it's enough to feel him invade you even further. He feels it too.

"I wish I thought it were..." You say, lamely.

"Why don't you, then?"

He asks quickly, amused. He squeezes your pinky harder and it's starting to cut your circulation off. You look back up with that ridiculously innocent face that always made him want to jump into the river, you didn't even know how precious you looked that way.

"You know why, Osamu."

Oh it's like a shot to the heart when you switch to his first name. How dare you. He wishes you'd say it under different circumstances because he doesn't like this one. That, plus the urge to mock you for your emotions always being so damn sincere causes his gaze to shift. It's less playful now as he stares into your eyes, his voice going low.

"... I don't think I do."

You bite the inside of your cheek again and taste blood from how hard you're holding back the urge to just. Go. But you can't and you won't. It's the same doomed story over and over again.

You murmur with pathetic longing.

"No, you never seem to."

He's figured out his question, and he figures why he's holding your pinky like he's a tourniquet and you're bleeding out, but he doesn't intend on saving you, he's not that kind of guy.

It's dark now, and the Sakura petals are slowing down their fall to death, almost afraid to interrupt the tension going on here. He nods towards you, amused.

"Please, enlighten me."

You look away, a sad smile on your face.

"I don't know if I'm strong enough for that tonight."

He knows that, and you're stupid if you don't think he knows every single little thing about you. This is all just a review. This is all just his way of making sure you haven't moved on this time for sure.

"Aww, look at you, unable to resist me.~"

He mocks you, yet moves his over hand to the small of your back to really make sure you stay here with him. You instantly regret letting your heart speak for you when you said you'd stay earlier. You frown, eyes glistening as the moon makes its presence known. The moon doesn't care to interrupt you two, but somehow it feels like it's on Dazai's side more than anything.

You shake your head, sighing.

"You're being mean. You should be home tonight and so should I."

He keeps staring into you, thinking how beautiful you look when you become so vulnerable around him. He finally releases your pinky, unable to take it anymore, and cups the side of your face instead while the other one still stays on your back. He shrugs and sighs as well, though it sounds more like an imitation of one.

"Perhaps I should be home. But I don't feel like it. Neither do I feel like letting you scurry away."

This causes you to purse your lips and knit your brows together, your patience running out from his games. He should have taken you out back and put you out of your misery ages ago, it's not too late, you think.

"Then what do you propose we do?"

"Hmm... Will you let me kiss you?" He asks as if this were the first time he's ever done it. As if he were concluding a successful first date. Your lip quivers, and he can feel you tremble.

"Why?"

"Why not?"

When you don't reply, he moves his face until his cheek is against yours and whispers into your ear.

"Are you going to say anything, silly? Or can I take this as a yes?"

You finally breathe out, the shock somewhat subsiding. You don't think twice, you're just as pathetic as you've always been. But so is he for asking.

"Kiss me."

You said yes. He gets what he wants from you, thank god. He won't tell you that just this morning he had a dream, or rather a revelation of you letting him kiss you. That he blew off his duties at the agency and visited every single place you used to frequent together until he found you here to make the prophecy come true. That this is a selfish attempt at getting not just that kiss, but your entire being. Your noses touch, and he whispers once more.

"Are you sure about that? You don't sound so sure, little thing."

You swallow hard, and your voice comes out meek and soft.

"I always am."

"Even now?"

He doesn't even wait for your reply before he's closing the distance between you, locking your lips together and sealing you against him, as if worried after all this time you'd still try to move away and leave. The kiss lasts longer than it was intended to, but eventually Dazai removes himself from you, he couldn't bear it if you did so first. You never would, you think to yourself. His gaze is genuinely soft now, his cruelty melting away like a snowflake, but you're dying in his arms like the petal.

"You've always known I'm yours, right? And you're mine?"

You want to cry when he says that, if only it truly was that mutual.

"I want it to be that way, but it seems you only kiss me when no one's around."

The empty outdoor space that envelops them, along with the waves rhythmically crashing against the port punctuates the silence that follows after. Dazai breaks the pause, something about what you just said bothering him deeply.

"If I kissed you when everyone was around, wouldn't they start to look?"

He knows that's terrible thing to say to you, but doesn't want to admit that the thought of others seeing him happy makes him feel like it's an omen, that the second he openly recognizes he's yours you won't stay his for very long. That it will all be a dream from another world. You scoff as you look away, your eyes stinging.

"Mmm... You're funny."

"I'm serious, me being in a relationship? Imagine that. I think the whole agency would be at a standstill. How scandalous."

He doesn't mean that, but he doesn't know why he can't stop pretending he doesn't have feelings and just speak the truth. Surprisingly, you crack a small smile at that, trying to find humor in the fact that you'll never figure him out.

"They'd all think you're looney, which you are."

"That's an understatement! They'd think I'm deranged for letting such a cute person take me away from my very important duties.~"

He plays along with your sarcasm, what matters is you're cooperating.

"They'd all say I'm too good for you, anyway. Especially Kunikida." You really make sure that one hurts, but all he shows is a sly grin.

"It's just better if people don't know we're together, right?"

You look away, the moon's fully illuminating you both.

"It's better not to be together at all, Osamu."

Your words actually hurt like a knife to the chest, and once he goes there, he can't stop it. You weren't supposed to make such a permanent statement. He narrows his eyes, but his voice remains soft, desperate even.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"You know what I mean, I'm not some secret you keep."

He somehow recovers and replies as smug as possible.

"I like you that way. Frozen in time, remember? The prettiest ice sculpture for me to adore for all eternity.... What else do you want me to say?"

You wince at that.

"Just say anything. Can you say it? Can you at least tell me you loved me at one point in time?"

That does it for him. You look so sad, you look so pliable and it's so attractive, but he's not looking to exploit that anymore tonight. It brings out something else. Something he can't take back.

"You do know I don't ever want anyone else, right? It was real to me then, and it's real to me now. Don't be dense."

He didn't notice the tears in your eyes before, the way they glisten thanks to the moon who's always on his side. He's stern when he speaks to you, his eyes locked on yours to make sure you get it through you stubborn little skull how devoted he has always been and always will be, even if he doesn't show it in the way you want him to.

You're irritated and enamored as you sniffle.

"And what am I supposed to do with that information, huh?"

He speaks above a whisper, you barely hear it yourself; It might as well be an auditory hallucination. His face is solemn, matching yours for once. He's not hiding anything right now.

"Keep it close to your heart and be mine..."

He clears his throat, and moves his other hand from your back to the other side of your face, fully holding you, making sure you have no escape.

"... I'm all yours, so be all mine. Okay?"

"We really are the same kind of stupid, Osamu... Now what?"

You say with a scoff that turns into a small laugh, your voice remaining bittersweet even in between sniffles.

"Now?" His voice trails off, humming as he pretends to think. There was never another outcome to this story, he was never going to say anything different. It's just the way he prophesied it. The way it's meant to be.

"Now you're going to take me home. We're going to get back to your place, and you'll reintroduce me to your very cold and lonely bed I've missed so much as I hold you forever and ever. You'll have no choice but to fall madly in love with me again, as I am with you. Done."

He drops your face and takes your hand properly now, hoping to lead you away into the night. He knows he doesn't deserve this, so he has to make it count.

He's hoping you won't find him crass and reject his request, he doesn't mean to be so blunt. He's just a desperate idiot who refuses to see another season change without you.

When Dazai says he misses intimacy with you, it's because he does. It's because he wants to tell you that this is the last time the cycle repeats itself, this is how he ends it but he needs you to want it too. You stare at him in disbelief at first, your hollow breathing now becoming shaky with each inhale. You choose to believe him, something in his face tells you he's being real for once. Besides, you already have nothing, so you can't lose anything.

"... Then lie in it again. Convince me."

You tuck a strand of his messy bangs that frame his face behind his ear, and you realize how pretty he looks this way. You never noticed he could be even more devastating than usual. You hope he'll keep letting you push it back like this.

He smiles, his voice dropping to a pleading tone at your reverent touch. At your mercy.

"Oh, I plan on it. We've made it this far. Even if it wasn't mutual anymore, it doesn't make it any less true... at least not for me. And just so you know, I did love you at one point in time, and I love you now, you fool."

You look down once again at the fallen petals at your feet already turning brown, and you realize this won't be you tonight, or ever again. You realize there is meaning in all of this and you won't be the snowflake nor the petal, you're going to be Dazai's. You squeeze his hand back, the corner of your lip curling up as you both walk away under the moonlight.

[emotionaleating]

[beetle-baguette]

a sleepy Ringo for today

[betterluckthenexttime]

[alicetheangel]

I am a horrible person for giving up, I know. Many people suffer more, and they still live, I know. All of that, I know.

[aroaceleovaldez]

yknow i joke about pjo fandom being "ableism fandom" cause of how ironically the fandom behaves about disability themes in the franchise (and within the community) but the notes on that one post are apparently indicating the majority of the fandom legitimately did not process any disability themes in the entirety of the series besides being explicitly told in direct terms that demigods have adhd/dyslexia and that actually explains a lot