#work thoughts on a sunday

[erinfulmerwrites]

It’s seriously so fucked that anyone with a fake ID can buy a 40 at the corner store for a few bucks and meth from the guy outside no questions asked but to get psychiatric care you have to jump through ten million hoops of executive function and pay $200 a visit assuming you can even FIND a doctor close to home and they are probably an asshole who doesn’t respect you

[nem0-nee]

"Forgiving who you are, for what you stand to gain Just know that if you hide, it doesn't go away When you get out of bed, don't end up stranded Horrified with each stone on the stage, my little dark age"

Shameless twitter plug

[hydrachea]

Thinking about Robin and Sunday's halos.

About how Robin's halo isn't a closed circle, but more like a branch forming a circular shape, where the start and stem don't touch. It's also uneven in shape and splits into three flowers, like it's allowed to grow freely, unobstructed. Something about Robin having left Penacony and having escaped the confines of her cage, being able to flourish. About her being able to let people in, and connect to them.

Meanwhile Sunday stayed behind to be the head of the Oak family and conform to the strict role that's expected of him, and his halo is a perfectly symmetrical shape that's practically fully closed off. It's sharp, almost more like a crown of thorns than a halo. And it almost doesn't have any openings to let anything, or anyone, in easily. It actively discourages getting close to it.

And then if you want to get sappy about, which I will - Sunday doesn't let anyone in, with that almost completely sealed, thorny halo of his... But there's an opening in Robin's halo, and so it can fit around Sunday's. Something about him always being able to find solace in her, because there's room for him in her (halo) heart always, by design.

Anyway I'm not normal about them.

[scourge-sympathiser]

SCOURGE SUNDAY 029/???

got em

hey

[azen13]

CW: Yandere Themes,

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Just a quick thought: Yandere!Sunday who is a galactic pop superstar.

He sees you at one of his concerts during a slower song when he looks up from the piano keys, floating in a sea of faces. Instantly you stand out to him. There's something chimerical in this moment, he thinks.

When he finishes up the set, quickly moving backstage to prepare for the next set, he makes a decision: he has to know more.

You get invited backstage after the concert, truly a dream. He sits on a plush light grey sofa, calmly smiling at you as he does to all his fans, but his golden eyes glitter and swirl with unreadable emotions. You've intrigued him.

Every moment that passes after this meeting seems to topple over like dominoes placed by a steady and swift hand. Invites to secret sessions turn into tickets offered over social media. Slowly, Sunday pulls you into his world, makes you his greatest muse. When the songs on his latest album are picked apart, atom by atom, the analysts surmise that there must be someone. And when Sunday responds to these allegations at a concert with a sly smile and a glint in his eyes, his fanbase erupts, demanding to know more.

But they will know nothing, Sunday thinks as he walks backstage, taking off his mic and his opulent outfit. He returns to his hotel room that evening to see you, safe and sound, your breathtaking eyes still painted in strange shades and hues from when he sung songs meant just for you.

He asks you if you would like to go to Penacony with him to watch him sing in the Charmony Festival, and you reply with bright eyes and a smile on your face.

One day very soon, Sunday will sing a song that will send the entire universe into an eternal dream. But in this moment, your beautiful, foolish mind completely ensnared by his siren-like voice, he feels like he is dreaming.

[kvtnisseverdeen]

Duty is sacrifice. It eclipses all things, even blood. All men of honor must pay its price.

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON | 2.01 "A Son For A Son"

[sundry-whovengerslocked]

Doctor Who "Rogue" memes

I've made memes. enjoy.

(contains slight spoilers)

firstly, ones that are more encompassing:

regarding the episode itself:

and finally, Captain Jack Harkness stages of grief:

[petricorah]

something something i will follow you into the dark (comic wip)

[crybaby-bkg]

cw: this got long sorry 😔 but creepy/perv bakugou, recording, film major bkg x art major reader, masturbation, coercion, dubcon before it just becomes con, voyeurism/exhibitionism

as an art major, you typically did some works for a few students on campus; for their plays, as background pieces while they danced, a cover for their released songs. it wasn’t out of the ordinary for people to ask you to create something for them, and you enjoyed it more often than not. but, you weren’t usually the art itself.

Bakugou is a friend’s friend that you’ve seen a few times, ran into at the library or at coffee shops. he’s a film major, and always looks so unhappy about the whole thing, as if he didn’t choose it himself. you joke to Mina that you think he’ll graduate and become one of those directors that hate everything and yell at the actors constantly and later on get sued for being a dickhead. you never say it to him though—you’ve never spoken more than a couple words to the man.

it’s why it shocks you when he approaches you one day. it’s after one of your painting classes, and he stands outside the door with a frown and his hands shoved in his pockets, his eyebrows scrunched as if pissed at the mere sight of you. he asks you, in that low and gruff tone of his, if you could star in his final project for the semester. says it’s supposed to be a film made with this criteria and that, but, you’ve kind of checked out on the conversation after the first sentence.

“You mean, you want me to create something and that be the star of your film?” you ask him, feeling so intimidated at his stature. he always seems to loom, his hair shadowing the lights above, creates a cast over a portion of his face, makes his eyes look…unsettling. like they’re looking straight through your flesh, can find the marrow in your bones. he scoffs like you’ve offended him, rolling his eyes into his skull, mouth pulled tight.

“No.” his voice is firm, gaze concentrated only on you, like the halls are empty and you’re the focus of his lens. “I want you to star in it.”

his words confuse you—you’ve never presented yourself as an actor before, never alluded to wanting to be in the spotlight if not for what you create with your hands. but he shuffles on his feet, looks desperate even. there’s some hemming and hawing for a minute or so—why not choose Mina?—she’s busy—why choose me?—‘cause you’d be perfect for my short film—what’s it about?—you’ll find out once you get the script.

and even after you hesitantly agree and get the script—you still don’t understand what you’re doing. why you’re here, why you’re the only person, why it has to be a solo film, why there’s damn near zero lines in the entirety of the have-to-be forty five minute film.

the scenes are all so long, and maybe it’s because movies aren’t your forte or chosen major, but you just don’t get it. one scene; you’re staring at yourself in the mirror while Bakugou holds a small, black camera over your shoulder. he’s eerily quiet behind you, whispers out a faint fuckin’ go when you have to wash your face in the sink, makes you do it over because your movements are too jerky and unnatural.

the rest of the scenes go that way; you doing regular at home activities, being put under a lens, quietly barked at to do this and move that way and fix your hair and remember to frown.

“Isn’t there another way to film this?” you ask him on the fifth day of shooting in his spacious loft. there’s a bubble bath scene coming up, one you dont understand the importance of, but Bakugou tells you it’s the most necessary part of the entire thing.

“No,” he grunts out, looking at you from under his lashes as he sits on the lid of the toilet. “But I’ll make it soapy, so the camera won’t see much.” the camera? much? you weren’t worried so much about what the camera captured as you were the man behind it. he looks at you with such intensity, you feel naked already despite the robe you wear that’s suspiciously already your size.

he leaves the bathroom when you sink in the hot water, returns before you can say it’s okay, hears the water splashing and thinks that’s good enough. he kneels on the floor beside you, camera pointed directly in your face, makes your chest hot and your skin feel prickly. the scene passes on regularly enough; you run the water over your arms, tilt your head back as you sigh, whisper the few lines scripted, lean back and close your eyes, sigh again. it’s almost relaxing, makes you forget about the friend of a friend recording you naked right now. almost.

“Touch yourself.” Bakugou suddenly demands, hushed and quiet behind the camera. your eyes immediately shoot open, looking to him in question, how he’s eerily still in his spot hovering over you.

“Huh?” you ask, unsure if you heard him correctly, looking around the rounded lens in your face, trying to ignore the red blinking light. but Bakugou only frowns.

“It’s a masturbation scene. Touch yourself.” he repeats, voice louder, more demanding this time. your stomach twists at the thought of doing something so intimate in front of him. he’s a handsome guy, for sure, even made you consider asking him out after this, figured he was just serious about his work and awkward about certain things. but…something had been off about this entire thing since the start.

“But—but I don’t, I’m not,” you stutter, sitting up a little, the bubbles covering your chest starting to disperse with your movements. but Bakugou only sits a little higher on his knees, finally pulling the camera away from his face for the first time since he’s asked you to do this for him.

“You want me to fail?” he asks, booming voice eerily quiet in the silent bathroom, carmine eyes dull, shaded over with something terrible. “Then do it.” he tells you when you shake your head quickly.

you stare at him until he gets back into position again, camera back pointed at you. when he doesn’t say anything else, you swallow thickly, wondering if the art that will come out of this will be worth it. so you listen, sneak a hand under the water, start touching yourself in a way you never have in front of anyone.

is it bad to say that it’s exhilarating? being watched and recorded by someone who breathes so heavily every time your voice hiccups? being directed to touch your chest next when the suds start to disappear and your nipples start to peek through? is it bad that you want him to send you this portion of his film, only, just so you can watch yourself again and again? make a portrait of yourself with your fingers on your nipples and your knees raising from the water and your head thrown back from the intensity in oil pastels?

“That’s a wrap.” Bakugou announces when you finish, head spinning and still panting. you look over to him, how he closes the camera, the obvious bulge in his pants. “I’ll get you a towel.”

you wonder when’s the next time he’ll need you. or better yet—maybe he could be the star in your final drawing project? you had finished it already but, what was the harm in starting over with him as your muse? as naked as you are? camera not blocking his face so you can paint the similarities of his blushing cheeks and eyes when you direct him to look at you? to touch his chest? to play with himself just like that?

[alena-draws]

Guess who's gonna finish her academical path next wednesday...wohoo! Finally, I'll be able to close my final uni project with a nice little presentation, just me, a collegue, my prof and another really nice prof <:) so it'll be a chill situation...I guess I might have the option to formally present with all other graduees at the end of semester, which I might consider, but no thinking about that now.

After thursday...it's some days of quiet and then time to kick myself in the butt to go jobhunting and make a pretty portfolio. And website! God, I'd love a website but that's another bigger project for sure (On that note, I'd also love a website where I could collect my comics/fancomics. Just because here and on Twitter especially, it's so hard to keep a nice overview about that, and having them all in once place easy to access and read would be so much better, even if only for my own personal entertainment)

[mewnia]

EYY I have gotten my Asbel Redesign to a point where I feel pretty proud of it! Asbel is such a hard character to design, it’s crazy. He has this air about him that if you don’t get right then it doesnt feel like him….

This is not a “fix” btw!! It’s a practice my professor wanted us to take, a couple years ago, and an experiment to see what parts of our style shine ☺️ I wanted to try out with a few other characters! Check out Cheria and Sophie, if you’re interested!

[pentacentric]

people think sam fucks so hard because he wants to be in control

no. sam wants someone to fight him back, to make him hurt, to hold him down, to take him

(deep down he knows he's impure and dirty and bad and can't be trusted to make his own decisions, but they have to prove they can handle him, he's not going to just make it easy for them, he's got to know they can put him down like the dog he is if they have to)

[jojo-the-bird]

I think that the meaning of life doesn’t have some profound reason behind it, no, I think it’s much simpler than that. I think it’s because god one day saw the sun rise and sun set and decided that this is something to be shared with because no matter where you are in the world the sun will rise and the sun will set and we all see the same stars every night. And I think that’s what makes us human. Not the overly spectacle things but the little ones. The ones you have to stop and admire just for this moment as you suddenly are aware of your surroundings and realize how lucky you are to be alive. To look around and see that your surrounded by life, no matter how lonely you are your never really alone.

[milksnake-tea]

sometimes i think about the way sunday is 100% fine with doing fucked up things as long as he thinks the people he’s doing those things to deserve them

[sparrownnax]

microdosing time travel by straight up forgetting that a day passed

[slooshee]

Oh… that’s Sunday’s ENG VA doubling down on his support for Chris Niosi