#and makes her extra extra lunch

[kristensdexscore]

kristen may not be the favourite of any of the bad kids' parents, but i KNOW lydia barkrock loves that girl with her whole heart!!!

[finnwaif]

comic for today

[softquietsteadylove]

Gil gets hurt and Thena takes care of him. We need some soft content hehehe free choice and thanks <3

"You okay?"

Thena blinked. Her vision was fading on her. She looked back at Gil, who was staring at her with those big brown eyes of his. She smiled, moving away from the edge of the loft and leaning over him again. "I should be asking you that. You need to rest."

"I am," he pointed out weakly, moving his eyes around to indicate the thorough incapacitation of his body. They had gotten up the ladder on pure adrenaline. They just needed somewhere off the ground and safe for the night while the herd outside passed, or at least calmed.

The barn doors were holding, thanks to the plank of wood they had secured after all of them holding them with all their strength.

Thena had spread out some hay. They didn't bring much with them--this was supposed to be an easy day trip for supplies. She had laid Gil down, balling up her sweater under his head as the least she could do. "Let me see it."

It wasn't as if he was in a position to stop her. He grunted as she pulled on his good arm to help him sit up, although even that caused his bad shoulder some pain. "You checked it five minutes ago."

"It was not five minutes ago," she argued with him, their voices hushed. Despite the tense silence and the low shuffling of the herd outside, it was quieter in the barn than the sterile, smooth echoes of the hospital. Not that they didn't long to be back there at the moment.

Gil let her unbutton his shirt and look at his shoulder again. He had tried to save one of their own earlier, even letting his arm be pulled out of the socket. But the herd had won, and she had pulled him away before he could be swallowed up too.

The swelling was still prominent. She didn't have anything to help with that, and neither she nor Kingo nor Ikaris were knowledgeable enough to pop it back into place for now. She wondered if they would even be strong enough.

"I've dislocated my shoulder before, y'know."

"Is that so?" she whispered, pulling his shirt away from him as if it would cause the injury to worsen. Already his skin was starting to change colour.

"I was maybe 14?--my dad thought it would be a good idea to make me join wrestling. Thought I was too timid, especially for being kind of a husky kid," Gil continued as she traced the edge of his swelling with her eyes. She didn't dare touch it. "Obviously, I didn't wanna do it."

"Obviously," she added, because of course Gil didn't want to fight his peers as a growing teen, probably just as sweet and shy as he was now.

"So, my first practice I tried to just go limp and play dead, but the other guy was not having it," he chuckled. She watched the shadows of his breathing against the glow of the flashlight. "He ended up popping my shoulder out, he was trying so hard. I was just happy I got to quit the team."

"Gil," she scolded him with a smile. The idea of young teen Gil, shy in a wrestling leotard and just trying to make friends crossed her mind. "I imagine it hurt then, too."

He let out a breath. He was careful about it. He was putting up a good front, but she knew when he was in pain. She had seen it enough during their time on the road. "I guess it did."

She frowned. This wasn't the kind of injury they could disinfect and wrap up. They still had to get him back to the car and then back to the hospital without incident. And this was the open road; it wouldn't be easy to mow a path for them back to the cars from here.

But she could do it.

Gil wheezed as she helped him lie down again. He forgot to pretend he was fine when he was moving, his face twisted in pain. "Bill-"

"Hey," she cut him off. She didn't even remember his name. They had only gone on a run once or twice before. All she had known in the moment was that Gil was in danger. "Don't."

"He's got a girlfriend back at the hospital," Gil whispered to her. He opened his eyes, staring up at the room of the barn.

She moved to lean over his face, brushing his tears away. "I'm afraid it could happen to any of us, out here. We know the risks."

They all had to know the risks. What's-his-name had signed up for supplies duty just like the rest of them had. Ajak didn't assign people roles based on whim.

Thena leaned in, pressing her lips to his forehead. He still wasn't running a fever (good). "We'll tell her together--how hard you tried to save him."

Gil shut his eyes again. There was nothing they could do about it now. "You should get some sleep."

"Hypocrite."

"Really," he wheezed again. "You're not gonna stay up until dawn just because I'm like this. We need you at your best."

Thena looked out over the rest of the barn again. She could just barely make out where Ikaris was leaning up against a pillar, although she couldn't see if he was sleeping or not. Kingo was curled up on a stack of hay, already knocked out from all the effort they exerted.

"Thena, I'm fine."

He was far from fine. He was hurt, and suddenly their days on the road weren't so far away anymore. The sting of peril was hot on their heels again. She could remember holding onto him, willing to pull off his other arm if it meant not letting go. Kingo was the one to pull them both, yanking her backpack to get them both up the hill and towards the barn.

She opened up her bag. She should have packed for the possibility of being stuck out here, regardless. They were getting too comfortable at the hospital--too spoiled. There had to be something she could use to help Gil in some way.

"Thena," Gil sighed as she pulled out a blanket. It was barely a blanket, more some ripped old sheet for acting as a trampoline if they had to drop things from a height and stay quiet. It barely covered from his elbows down to his knees. "Really?"

"I said hush," she muttered, moving on to his bag as well. She dug out the spare shirt he brought.

Gil moved his eyes as he watched her. "It's a nice idea, but I don't know if a summer gingham shirt is gonna offer much warmth."

She made sure to huff at him, pulling it on over her white t-shirt. she didn't bother buttoning it, but she did pull it closed around her. It was big enough to feel like having a blanket around her. "No complaining."

She curled herself up next to his good arm, wrapping her arms around her knees. He was right, she would need to sleep, even if it was nodding off for a few minutes at a time. But she couldn't take her eyes off the opening to the loft. Even after she had worked her absolute hardest to pull the ladder up with her, the thought of seeing something poke a gnarled, nightmarish head up and look at her-

"Thena."

She inhaled sharply. She was falling asleep by the second. Her head tilted and she nearly flinched at the dry, borderline icy look Gil was giving her. "I'm fine."

"I'm not asking you to sleep," he pleaded with her. His good hand moved until he could tug at the shirt of his she was wearing. "Just lie down, please."

She buried her nose in the collar of it. In truth, she was exhausted, and being tired made her feel cold. But more than that, this shirt smelled like Gil, and their room at the hospital. And she needed to feel that, right now.

Thena shifted her weight, lying down next to him, still basically curled in the fetal position.

Gil was most certainly straining his eyes to look at her. But he smiled. "Feels like old times, right?"

Times when she would be unable to sleep because she had something far too precious to protect? Yes, it did feel remarkably like that. It felt like when she watched him sleep the entire night after he got grazed by a bullet, or when she watched him sleep as his fever get worse and worse.

Sometimes she still woke up from that nightmare, unable to stop herself from checking if his forehead was hot.

The thought spooked her again. The next time she fell asleep she probably wouldn't flinch awake after a few seconds again. Gil was lying flat on his back, his eyes closed. His breathing seemed even. She shimmied closer as best she could. Just once more couldn't hurt.

She touched the back of her hand to his forehead; no fever. She leaned up and touched her lips to his cheek; a little scruffy, but warm and living. With that, she could lie down beside him, not resting on him but pressing her forehead to his arm, just to have some contact with him. This was the only way she could rest.

Tomorrow, she could worry about getting Gil home again.

[daddy-long-legssss]

had my personal assessment for work and it went well but i still felt like i could burst into tears at any given moment.

[zemnarihah]

art students are suuuuch babies dude i actually can't believe all the profs are so nice i'd be grabbing people by the shoulders and shaking them and yelling "JUST REMIX THE FUCKING COLOR WHY HAVE YOU TAKEN 3 PAINTING CLASSES AND YOU STILL WONT EVEN ATTEMPT TO MATCH A COLOR THAT YOU MIXED BEFORE WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING THIS WHOLE TIME DO YOU HAVE LITERALLY NO DESIRE TO IMPROVE OR DO YOU HONESTLY THINK THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN YOU AND THE PERSON WHO IS ALWAYS MAKING INCREIDBLE WORK IS ONLY OUTSIDE FACTORS YOU CLAIM TO HAVE NO CONTROL OVER RATHER THAN WORK AND A WILLINGNESS TO TRY CHALLENGING THINGS

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

I don't have a lot of energy these days [because of The Horrors] so I'm looking at my day and my priorities and trying to plan how I'm going to spend what energy I have, because I do need to be able to rest and relax but there are also things that need doing and that is a careful balance for me.

I managed to [mostly] clean the kitchen last night so I've kicked it out of the priority list until next weekend. Unfortunately the living room, bathroom, bedroom, and my office all need cleaning too. I think of the priorities, my office and the bedroom are the most important to me, so I'll probably push the living room and bathroom until at least Friday.

There's also the laundry. I don't have any clean clothes and as we're moving into winter I need to be more rigid about getting that done because days where the clothes can be dried on the line will be more limited. So I definitely need to wash an outfit or two and hang them up in the next hour.

That's already a really busy day, so I'll probably cut it there. But it's definitely going to still leave me a lot of work this week. Half my cleaning, at least one more round of laundry, settling dog food for the next couple of weeks, planting the fall/winter greens, doing some set up work on my computer, work on some writing projects, cleaning out the fridge, and patching some worn clothes. My work week isn't insane atm, but it is definitely limiting. Right now I have 6+4+0+4+2+5+5= 25 non work/non-survival needs (sleep, food, shower, etc) hours available each week. I need to figure out a regukar distribution of these that means everything is getting done and I still have an hour a day to myself as often as possible. I think it's probably not realistic to give myself more than an hour a day for free time/fun, which is a bit unfortunate because I've found in the past that my floor tends to be getting 2-3hrs of free time most days because of how I deal with transition and decision-making.

25-7 [1hr per day] is 18 hrs, so I just need to decide where and how to distribute those in order to keep pace with things.

Lets say the garden needs 3hrs per week, the laundry needs 4 hours (specifically 2 sets of 2 morning/early afternoon hours), the cleaning needs an hour a day to get through a maintenance clean of the house, and 3 hours once a week to work down any deep cleaning that's built up. Which is....already three more hours than I actually have each week. So I guess I'll make a plan to work in the garden for 20-40min of 4 of my free hours each week.

It really doesn't leave me any wiggle room. Only about 4 hours a week that isn't explicitly allotted to something that needs doing, which means there will probably me a lot of weeks where I only get an hour or so at best across the whole thing for free time. I guess I've had a hard time accepting that at this point, having actual time for myself or a time-intensive project is only available if I've taken a day off work. I love my job, but it's ... not comfortable to realize that it's the only love in my life I actually have time for anymore.

I think that's probably why I end up here so much. It's this mindless little way of zoning out into my own head, dissociating away from the exhaustion, for a few minutes at a time. I keep thinking I want to use this space differently, make it more if the things I enjoy. But I think what I really want is just to actually have the time and energy to do things I love that take work. I keep crying a few times every day and I couldn't figure out why, but like

I dunno

Why **wouldn't** I cry a little every day? It's the closest I'm getting to actual emotional release or relaxation in my life. We'd probably all cry. Heck. A lot of us probably DO, capitalism being what it is.

I guess I'm starting to wonder why I'm doing what I'm doing. What is there left for me to sacrifice to this life? What is actually serving me about not just letting myself go up like a fireball and take my surroundings with me? What in the ever loving fuck am I fighting this hard for?

All I ever want, all I want now, is to be able to live. To really, actually live. How does wanting to live bring you this close to killing yourself, whether on accident or on purpose? What am I actually doing that is LIVING and what am I doing that is FACILITATION of living? It can't all be facilitation, or I'm not actually facilitating fuck all.

I'm 30 goddamn years old and I need to figure out what it looks like to actually love my life. I fundamentally refuse to zombify myself like this for everyone else around me forever.

[thedisablednaturalist]

surely a chronically ill person can go a day without EATING right? It's not like I'm managing a complicated illness that requires strict management right? And I totally don't need to be pain free for work tomorrow right!?!!

/sarcasm

[seeyouinthespring]

kinda wish i would never have to talk to my mom again but we're roommates rn so that can't even happen

[llycaons]

day over, whew. I probably would have been fine doing the rest of the case, but I'm feeling tired again and not regretting getting relieved. but it WAS a good day genuinely I was reminded of things I should have known and just forgot, and the day went quickly. the power of caffeine...

[exopelagic]

auuudggghghhrhrhrbrr

[tariah23]

My upcoming check is so pitiful wtf

[phagodyke]

one of my friends cancelled plans today bc he accidentally doubled booked which is fine like I shouldve remembered he might be busy anyway so I suggested me n the other remaining friend do smth else but he just cancelled too and bc I've been in so much pain this week I've missed out on my usual thurs gym social and also hanging out w two other friends yesterday bc I was too sick to travel and had to get off the train and my roomie won't even look at me bc her social battery is low which is okay im used to that and I probably won't physically be able to go to the gym tomorrow either but man I'm so fucking lonely and still in pain I can't do this.

[caelcstis]

mom woke me up to let me know that she made lunch so i am up somehow-

[fortunatefool]

Not to date myself but sometimes in the middle of a crisis u get to hear Pursuit of Happiness (Nightmare) by Kid Cudi featuring MGMT and Ratatat, Steve Aoki Remix and feel joy for the first time in a week and a half

[writersdrug]

Simon "Ghost" Riley is the kind of man who:

In your shared home, always sits with his legs spread. Manspreading king. Adores it when you cross your arms and give him a disapproving look, saying there's no room for you. "Course there is, luv. Jus' sit between my thighs."

Refuses to let you do simple tasks around the house, like making tea, folding his underwear, or putting away the dishes. One might think it's a sweet, husbandly gesture - but he's just super picky. You made tea in the microwave once, and now you're banned from ever touching his tea stash. Likes his underwear folded in a specific way, and you don't understand the importance of it. He got tired of you stuffing his underwear in his drawer, so now he folds it himself. And the dishes? Couldn't stand how you put them away. "There's no rhyme or reason to 'em." "I didn't think there had to be, Si-" "Just gimme the damn bowl." Fewer chores? You aren't complaining.

Looks like he's always on edge - and he is, kinda. When he's out with you, he can't help but be alert and watchful, and extremely protective of you. You've tried to get him to loosen up - it's the supermarket, what could happen? - but have just come to accept it as his nature. Plus, you get that giddy feeling when you see other men look straight down at the floor, avoiding Simon's stare as the two of you pass.

Is the grumpiest, poutiest, and most indignant man ever when he gets sick. Doesn't want you doting on him in case you catch whatever he has. But, wait - where are you going? "Get your ass back in this bed - 'm cold." Grumbles like a child when you force him to let you get up to grab him soup, tea, or medicine. And no, he doesn't care how sick he is, he's not wearing that stupid, floppy ice pack hat.

Brings Johnny over unannounced, and you've grown used to it. The moment you hear that Scottish yapping out the front door as the key unlocks, you grab a third plate for dinner - he insists you don't need to feed him, but you always make extra for Simon's lunch the next day regardless, and the last time he'd said that, he ended up grabbing an extra fork and picking from Simon's plate. Which, of course, had Simon up at 1 am making instant ramen because he was still hungry, but didn't have the heart to ask you to make him a decent meal. So, yes, Johnny would be fed.

Loves spoiling you on your birthday. What is a man if not someone who spoils his partner rotten? Orders in food from your favorite bakery, sets all your presents neat and nice on the table (the excellent wrapping job done by yours truly, Gaz), flower petals sprinkled on the ground and the table top (also Gaz's idea), and a seat on his lap so for you while you open your presents. Loves watching your face light up, and each little "you remembered?!" fall from your lips as you open each gift. Scoffs and shifts in his seat. "I's not that much of a fuss, luv..." as you squeal excitedly, but you know he's biting back a proud smile. The blush, he can't even attempt to hide.

Is somehow a magnet for your young nephews. Every time he comes along to your sister's place, he's either making conversation with her husband in the living room, or he's interrogated and cornered by her two sons. And, lord help him, he doesn't understand it either. He'd always expected kids to look at him like a monster, but, especially with these two, that was never the case. They'd ask him for stories about "being in war" - half of the time, he'd make up some not-too-gory adventure, sparing them the details of real war. The rest of the time, he'd talk about "Soap, my mate who blows everything up." And they'd listen with wide eyes and jaws on the floor.

Has scared you unintentionally, more than too many times. He'd come home at three in the morning from a mission, and all he wanted was to quietly peel his dirty uniform off and slip into bed with you. His main intention was to avoid waking you up, because you'd force him to shower before joining you in bed - and he was too tired for that. However, you'd been rounding the corner, up for your 3 am glass of water - you screamed as you saw the hulking, dark figure by the front door, launching your phone at him. He'd caught it effortlessly and shoved it into his back pocket. "What've I told ya 'bout using the bat?" "I was just getting water!" "I coulda been anyone." "Well you're not." "Missed ya, luvie." "Missed you too- but you're grimy. Go take a-" "No." He grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder, ignoring your protests as he hauled you back to bed.

[pineconnie]

Fave martin blackwood things:

- lied about a MASTERS in PARAPSYCHOLOGY in his cv. why did he choose such a niche study like how many jobs could that even get you (EDIT I now know what a CV is and that he’s not telling every job he has a masters sorry guys I’m very jobless 🙏)

- writes the most terrible poetry you’ve ever heard (said with love) and plays background music while recording it onto a tape recorder for the vibes

- when encountering a terrifying worm lady that tries to add you to her flesh hive, he MAKES SURE to keep some of her worms just so he can stick it in his bosses face

-the rudest guy in the world (said boss) does one nice thing for him that he didn’t expect and he immediately falls in love (this is real to me ok let me have this)

-wears video game shirts to work

-goes on rants about spiders importance to the ecosystem to a guy with the worst arachnophobia ever

-hides CO2 cans so that ‘the worms don’t find it’

-forces his boss to go on lunch dates with him so he doesn’t completely lose it to paranoia

-walked into his bosses office, found a DEAD BODY THAT WAS DEFINITELY MURDERED, and all he says is “oh jon 😕😕”

-has practically the same reaction later on when someone tells him his boss compelled them to relive their worst trauma

-gets told the guy he’s been in love with for multiple years treats him horribly and goes “yeah and”

-outsmarted an avatar of the lonely despite being in a horrible depressive episode with no contact to anyone else

-manages to make peter fully believe he’s dedicated to the lonely even as his crush of many many years is practically confessing his love at every interaction

s5 martin is my favourite id need a whole extra post for him loml