#sorry for the diary entry also

[cowtoolsfanart]

Carved by Gislebertus (c. 1120-30 CE) for a stone capital in Saint Lazare Cathedral, Autun, France

I'm not a #sculpturehead but the soft drape of the blanket is so remarkable to me. It's so delicate and light which REALLY contrasts with the robust and icon-ic Romanesque style (BIG eyes, huge gestural hands, focus on characterizing features like the crowns wings and halo). I don't say remarkable to be condescending bc that's not even historically accurate. But the whole thing is so gentle, ordinary, and revelatory.

I never paid much attention to medievalists who wrote on touch and intimacy (which says something about me AND how narrow and iconographic my focus was). Looking back now I feel like that is such a mature (non-sexual) line of inquiry that I know I was too timid to poke at, even though I did try with the scopophilic/ prurient reliquary stuff.

ANYWAY this drawing and the caption especially are again, gentle, ordinary, and revelatory just like the sculpture. It brings me to tears tbh

Merry Christmas sleepyheads !

[the-most-sublime-fool]

Then, too, at sea—to use a homely but expressive phrase—you miss a man so much. A dozen men are shut up together in a little bark, upon the wide, wide sea, and for months and months see no forms and hear no voices but their own, and one is taken suddenly from among them, and they miss him at every turn. It is like losing a limb. There are no new faces or new scenes to fill up the gap. There is always an empty berth in the forecastle, and one man wanting when the small night watch is mustered. There is one less to take up the wheel, and one less to lay out with you upon the yard. You miss his form, and the sound of his voice, for habit had made them almost necessary to you, and each of your senses feels the loss.

��a sailor's diary entry, on losing a shipmate, ca. 1834 (from Two Years Before the Mast by Richard Henry Dana Jr.)

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

Hello may 31th anon! Look at that, another year behind us and a new one to come. Have a nice day! ₍՞◌′ᵕ‵ू◌₎♡

[celbrini]

they're just a lil stitious.

bonus:

[softpine]

she's looking especially sacrificial lamb today 🥩

[swedenis-h]

Day 5 Prompt: Favorite Quote

blue + red = purple!

(Redraw of this!)

( @claudiadelionlac )

[loose-leafstudy]

22:59pm

monday, january 16

hi, i've started school again :) i've been working as a cna, and i enjoy patient care. but i also wanted to use my biology degree. so i'm working towards going for an accelerated nursing program

i'm taking pre-requisites that my bio degree didn’t cover (developmental psych, nutrition, and pathophysiology), and all of the classes are online. it’s been a transition to get back into school while also working. but it’s a new year and i'm trying to be optimistic haha

✿ wishing everyone the best in the new year (over two weeks later!) 

[the-cookie-of-doom]

Pregnant Kim anon here again, please know that after I sent that I decided to “warm up” by outlining an entire fic and didn’t get any novel writing done lol. I would love a snippet full of ANGST because I think Kim deserves it right now for what he’s done to my brain

asdfjhagsdjfh VALID! ALL OF THAT IS VALID!

Here is your angst, my darling. I realized I actually don't have a ton of the pregnancy itself written yet, so here's a little bit (lol. it's over 1k, I got carried away) that happens soon after the birth. Kim has horrible post-partum depression thanks to everything that happens in this fic. TW for graphic description of depression and implied suicidal ideation

Chay entered the bedroom to find Kim beneath the covers still, at nearly three in the afternoon. Curled up on his side, tears steadily leaking from the corner of his eye every time he blinked, making a wet spot on the pillow beneath his cheek. He wasn’t even really crying. His eyes were just wet, and that wetness was dripping, and Kim had long since given up on trying to stop it. 

Chay didn’t ask, are you okay? Because he already knew what the answer would be. Instead he climbed onto the bed and spooned up behind Kim, and asked him, “What are you thinking about?”

“It’s not real.”

“What isn’t?”

“This. The depression. All of it. It feels real. It feels awful. But it isn’t. It’s just hormones and chemicals. It’s not me.” Kim didn’t sniffle, or sob, or sigh. His voice didn’t change from the even, monotonous quality it always had when he was trying not to feel. He just breathed. Closed his eyes against a fresh wave of tears, not that it did anything to halt their fall. “I thought once it was over, everything would be okay. I would be free. But it’s never going to stop, is it? There’s no normal for me to go back to. Just this.”

“P’Kim—” Chay’s voice cracked. He swallowed back what sounded like the beginnings of a sob and buried his face in the back of Kim’s neck. Weeks of exposure to Kim’s moods hasn’t made them any easy to handle, not least of all because he knew there’s nothing for him to do. He couldn’t take away this pain. “Please don’t talk like that. It is going to be okay. This isn’t forever. The doctor said it would take at least a month for your medicine to start working—it has to build up in your system, remember? Then everything will be okay.”

Kim didn’t say that the antidepressants only made him feel worse. Blunted him. Blurred any scrap of goodness he could cling too, until it was part of the same empty haze as everything else. He didn’t say that there was no drug strong enough to mask the bone-deep repulsion he felt every time he cradled his daughter to his breast to nurse. Nothing that could make him forget her conception when the pain of her birth was a constant reminder. He didn’t say anything at all. 

Chay squeezed his arm around Kim’s middle, between his aching, swollen breasts, and his aching, swollen incision. Squeezed tight enough that it should have hurt if Kim were capable of feeling anything at all. 

“You’re scaring me, P’Kim,” Chay whispered, holding Kim so tight he could hardly breathe. That was alright. He didn’t need to breathe. 

“I love you, Chay. Thank you for staying with me. I… I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner. Or that I did, I shouldn’t have—right before—” Before he nearly died. He shouldn’t have said it then. In what he thought were his last moments, he needed Chay to know. But it was selfish to let those be his last words to the boy. 

“Thank you for telling me. I’m glad you did. And I love you, too, P’Kim, so much. You are so, so loved, and someday soon, all of this is going to be better, okay? You just have to hold on until then.” Chay’s voice turned near-manic as it fully dawned on him just what he was bargaining for. “Promise me, Kim. Promise me you won’t leave again.”

“I promise.” A mechanical admission in that dull voice, but no less true. Kim found Chay’s hand where it was pressed over his beating heart and laced their fingers together. 

Kim knew Chay would no doubt tell their brothers about his alarming mood, and they would no doubt take him back to the doctor. He knew about the lists Chay had printed out and hidden away in his desk, spread across three pages and outlining the symptoms of baby blues, postpartum depression, and psychosis, with little checked boxes to track him. He’d filled out nearly half the page for depression before ever leaving the hospital. 

Kim wondered how many ticks he got on the last page before they took him away for good. Before they took his daughter away. Maybe they should; she would no doubt be better off without him. He hadn’t even wanted to keep her. Had nearly bled out moments after meeting her. Maybe it was a sign he wasn’t meant to have her at all. 

“Make sure Kiah’s taken care of,” Kim said softly, his face half-buried in the pillows. “I can’t—I’m not good for her. If I can’t take care of her, you’ll find someone who will, won’t you?” Kim went through too much to bring her into this world, he wouldn’t let her suffer for his own unwillingness to give her up, if that’s what it took to offer a better life. 

Behind him, Chay swallowed thickly. 

“Of course, P’Kim. I’ll make sure she’s always safe and loved.” 

The weight that’s been hung around Kim’s shoulders since he made the decision to bring Kiah home finally lifted, a relief he didn’t know he needed. He sighed and sank back into Chay’s warm embrace, the tension finally melting out of his body, and squeezed the hand still lying over his heart. 

“You’re safe and loved, too,” Chay said. “You have me, and Porsche, and your brothers, and P’Pol, and P’Arm, and P’Big. We’re all going to make sure both of you are safe and loved and taken care of. I won’t leave you alone again, P’Kim. Not ever.”

Kim didn’t doubt it. He never had. All this time, Chay’s love—the love of his family—has been an unwavering presence, cutting through the misery that’s cloaked him these last nine months. Kim didn’t know how to express that to Chay. That there was nothing to worry about. Kim wouldn’t hurt himself, with or without their constant supervision. He didn’t want to. He was only acknowledging the unrelenting misery he felt every waking moment, and accepting that it would likely follow him for the rest of his life. He didn’t prefer it, but he knew it was inevitable that these feelings would continue to be his constant companions. 

However he may feel, Kim knew he owed it to his daughter to be the best father he could be for her. And if his best wasn’t good enough, he would find someone that could give her what she deserved. Even still, Kim appreciated the reassurance. Appreciated Chay, for the way the younger boy has stayed at his side for so long, seen him through so much horror and heartbreak, and would show that appreciation however he could. Even if the most he could do was hold his hand and promise not to leave.

[iwakuraz]

doodle diary 2

[mercurymacaroons]

woagh 2 posts in one day

[girl-bateman]

it sounds so obvious now, but im pretty sure my physical problems rn can all be traced back to the fact that my brain and body has been in a constant hypervigilance and cortisol overload for 3 months straight. the dizziness, the blackouts, the acne, the constant nausea, the giant eyebags and sudden crows feet ?? Like yeah, no shit thats what happens when ur every waking hour is the equivalent of that camille preaker crying gif

[sophiesonlinediary]

when matilda randomly comes come on shuffle and you break down crying

[americanrecord]

catching up on all my texts etc tomorrow…have watched heat (1995) three times in three days …doing great

[eoinmcgonigal]

06: Bill/Johnny

From today's prompt from @almost-a-class-act I have gone with: Invited to a weekend at a cabin in the woods

-

Johnny can tell his phone finally has signal, because it starts pinging like mad. For a moment he’s tempted to go to it, but the comfort and warmth he’s nestled in wins through. He doesn’t mind. How could he, when there’s a strong fire crackling in the fireplace, and Bill is curled up in his arms? In the glow of the firelight, the shadows dance and flicker around them, the lights down low so that they can enjoy this. Like everything else about this trip, Johnny thought it might be a fun adventure to spend a weekend up in the woods, but he’s finding that it goes deeper than that. The experience has taken him away from the world he knows, and brought him something new.

Stroking Bill’s hair, Johnny leans in to kiss just below of his ear.

Bill stirs from his not-sleep, wriggling back against Johnny. “Are you going to get that?”

“No,” Johnny hums, nuzzling against the crook of Bill’s neck. “I’ve got you.”

There’s a soft, harmless huff. The pinging stops. “Even I can tell that’s one of the cheesiest lines ever,” Bill mutters.

Johnny just hums again, kissing the soft little spot he’s found. They fall silent again, and Johnny listens to the steady sound of Bill’s breathing, the fire crackling and shifting, and Bill’s heartbeat steady beneath Johnny’s hand. As his eyes fall closed, Johnny relaxes into this place, letting it take hold of him. Everything unimportant falls away, and he smiles as he’s left with a new, slightly terrifying but completely wonderful truth.

“You know,” he starts softly, feeling the thing inside him. He’s sure of it, and it might be days or years from now, but he knows it’s true. He also knows that Bill likes to know the facts, and where he stands. Johnny presses another kiss to Bill’s hairline. “I’m going to marry you one day.”

He feels the way Bill shifts, his heart rate picking up. A hand closes over his own, holding it to Bill’s chest.

There aren’t any words, not in that moment. Johnny knows that Bill understands, that he hasn’t said ‘right now’ or ‘next month’, or even asked. Nothing has changed, really, beyond them both now knowing where this journey they’re on together is going to lead.

Bill gently strokes the back of Johnny’s hand, letting out a breath that sounds like it’s shaped by a smile.

“Okay,” is the answer.

And Johnny has never felt safer, or more at home, in his life.

War is Helloween

[fuck-kirk]

I’m in the middle of writing a long ass Danny Phantom fanfic and it’s kinda crazy bc for one I haven’t written a fanfic in almost 7 years, and for two I entered this fandom when I was literally TWELVE how am I still into it…my brain doesn’t get rid of fixations so easily I guess

[bobmckenzie]

ok i don't know WHAT kind of brain fart I had but I've been thinking today marks 6 months since I started shipping with Bob... IT'S NOT SIX DLSKJFKSF IT'S EIGHT 😳😳😳 8 MONTHS!!!

so today i learned i don't know how to count but idec bc it's my 8 month bobiversarry lol ❤️