#river 2021

[illusoryfem]

River (2021)

[colderthanthemoon]

“Rivers are fragile”

[dubmill]

Millbank, London; 17.7.2021

[hold-him-down]

😌 - Someone gently brushing their hair and/or ✋ - A hand carding gently through their hair- for Leo pls!! i love comfort! (is it rlly ok if i send a bunch? cause i will lol)

tw: creepy whumper, intimate whumper, withdrawal, drugs, human experimentation, institutionalized slavery, nonsexual/semi-sexual nudity

notes: not leo, not comfort.

✥ ✥ ✥

“My boy,” Handler Jake Ward says, regarding the usually-feisty brunette with all the sympathy in the world. “What they’ve done to you.”

River's wrists are raw where he’s pulled against the restraints at, reportedly, a near constant rate for the last two weeks. His breaths are so heavy, each one a victory in its own rite. 

His hair is drenched in the sweat that covers every inch of his battered body. There’s still an obvious hatred in his eyes, but he does not have the energy to spew the vitriol that he normally reserves for their time together.

Jake runs his fingers through the worker’s hair, brushing it gently out of his face. He doesn’t even pull away. He doesn’t even fucking flinch.

When they send them to the A-wing for ‘projects’, they never quite know in what shape will return. Or when. Or how they’re coping with the whole thing. It keeps his job interesting, he thinks, but it also makes for stressful reunions sometimes. 

He has a soft spot for River, a spirited little shit from day one who, when he breaks, it is only after weeks of fierce defiance. Even then, it only lasts a few hours before he decides he’s ready to roll again and pulls his nails back out.

Jake asked the director for the details of the project earlier that day under the guise of using the information to aide in reintegrating the worker back into daily life in C-wing, but he said it was fucking confidential.

Jake runs his fingers through the tangles over and over until the waves look right again, and wonders, idly, how long this part will last.

“They really weren’t messing around, were they,” he says to himself as he unbuckles each strap. A tear runs down the corner of River’s eye and buries itself into his hair, and while Jake doesn’t think for a second that it’s anything other than a symptom of the withdrawal, he pretends, for a minute, that the boy is so happy to see him that he’s crying.

“You’re doing good,” he says, lifting River’s head to comb through the back before gently lying it back on the table. “I’m gonna move you to the tub.” Jake stands back and looks over River's body, checking for obvious signs of significant injury. He finds none, which isn’t surprising. Drug trials usually cause more damage inside than out.

River tries to speak, but it’s almost impossible to understand with the hoarse edge of his massively over-used voice. His poor throat, Jake thinks, running his thumb along his Adam's Apple. Still, Jake is pretty sure he knows what the boy says. He leans in and whispers, “What was that?”

He sees River’s mouth form a 'ffff’ a moment too late and the 'fuck you' cuts through the silence.

Almost reflexively, he has his hand around River’s neck. He squeezes it tightly, just hard enough that River’s breath cuts off, and says, “Welcome home, baby. I missed you, too.”

[filmap]

The French Dispatch Wes Anderson. 2021

Corpse in the river 245 Rte de Paris, 16160 Gond-Pontouvre, France See in map

See in imdb

[steelsartcorner]

Drawing Update: A 3 Year Comparison

I always find it helpful when artists post their progress, so updating from this post last year, I'm back with a 3-year comparison.

The drawing from 2021 (right) was the first thing I tried to make after putting down the pen for like... at least a good 15 years. It's terrible! My proportions are way off, I had no idea how to use digital tools, or how to color, so everything is flat and too detailed in some areas and not detailed enough in others. But it was a labor of love, a little take on a younger version of a character I had in my head. I did my best!

To commemorate 3 years of trying to improve, I did a little revisit of the same image, just for funsies.

Here's to continuing to try improving, til next year!

[mr-oscarwilde]

He seems so gentle.

[nature-hiking]

alpine river cutting through the forest - GR5, June 2021

photo by: nature-hiking

[chaiaurchaandni]

#freeAhmadManasra

[rabbitcruiser]

Reconquista: After a siege of four months, crusader knights reconquered Lisbon on October 25, 1147. 

[yourfavealbumisgender]

OK Human by Weezer is Pansexual and Transgender!

requested by anon

[stopdoopyphotos]

Rooster’s Rocks in Newport oregon

[seagrassbeba]

the smell of smoke takes me home, to where i’ve spent all twenty six years of life, by the river in an isolated city not far from the ocean. but it also takes me to my grandfather’s island, to a sea that held me for months and didn’t question which part of me belonged. i feel constantly torn between three places that claim me, two by blood and one by birth, the smell of wood-fire smoke drifting between them all.

[hold-him-down]

"He won't tell me what's wrong." - for the dialogue prompt thingy

“He won’t tell me what’s wrong,” Lincoln grumbles into his hands. A volunteer sits on the opposite side of the large metal desk, once occupied by Director Jones, who now sits behind bars awaiting trial. Link has gutted the office, save for all the files, which live in the safe, and this desk, mostly because sitting on the floor day after day felt like he was asking too much of his body. This desk, though, and everything else about this place, is covered in the blood of hundreds and hundreds of workers, and Link longs for the day that it can be burned to the ground. For now, though, he’s at its mercy.

“He won’t tell anyone much of anything,” the volunteer responds. “I tried last night, every time I got within five feet of him I feared for my life.”

Hyperbolic as it is, Lincoln can relate to the frustration.

“He hasn’t eaten,” Link says. The volunteer nods. “He didn’t sleep at all last night?” 

“Not that I noticed.”

He nods again. The options with River are incredibly limited. He is extremely resistant to any sort of help, and each time Lincoln has tried, he’s been met with open hostility that has, in some cases, led to physical altercations. He’s tired, and he’s scared, and he has to be fucking hungry. And, moreover, he’s in pain, although so far he has refused to offer any insight as to why.

Lincoln pulls out his file, printed only for the benefit of having something tangible to look at when he’s at a loss, and opens to the first page. A picture of River, several years earlier, greets him. He looked angry then, too, Lincoln thinks.

“Do you think he’d talk to any of the other residents?” Lincoln asks then. “Has he shown any interest in any of them?”

It’s a dark horse suggestion, but he’s low on ideas. Short of forcing River into an x-ray machine or into an ambulance or drugging him again, he doesn’t see a way around this. 

“No,” the volunteer replies. “He spent all night in his room, refused breakfast, and hasn’t spoken to a soul.”

[filmap]

竜とそばかすの姫 / Belle Mamoru Hosoda. 2021

River 158 Oharacho, Kochi, 780-8031, Japan See in map

See in imdb

[spectralanomally]

can i partially blame Dick Faulkner Rat Bastard extraordinaire for warming me up to the idea of changing myself to be more masculine than simply nonbinary?

cause uhh thanks @thesiltverses for helping me out with that truth I suppose

fuckin love queer horror/tragedy stories y'all