#i guess i'm in my feels today idek

[silverselfshippingchaos]

ugghhh wintertime sucks!! I'm sad and tired and sad all the time.. I need a nap.. and f/o cuddles.. and another nap..

[shittygothbitch]

:;+-

[thatskindasapphic]

So I'm leaning towards a masc/butch lesbian label but worry I won't be butch or masc enough to call myself that. Like I'm sitting here identifying with them internally but idk if dress/act in a way that embodies them. I gotta stop worrying about labels altogether and just live lol

[raylaismad]

so I just realized that I'm agender today. It's mostly just because I don't care about my gender and I thought if I was anything different from a woman then I would feel dysphoria when it was always that I didn't care. I'm going to keep my character- rayla, whom Ive never talked about but planned to- a demigirl, but I just felt like saying it ya know? Idk it's crazy. Um but have a great day I guess? Idek I'm just kinda flabbergasted right now that I never noticed

[heliophxle]

ooh if you're doing fic prompts.

allow me to introduce. when smosh did the just dance stream you know how hard trevor went on rasputin.

like 2 songs later someone volunteers him as a joke and he just goes "no, my chest hurts."

uh, mildly concerning? but you as the trevor whump author might be able to play with that :P

also idek why i go on anon for this shit, i'm the self proclaimed CHAMPION of whumpfic in this fandom

I hope I do this justice haha been very busy with exams (philosophy is going to kill me i stg)

• 2k words•

Trevors' chest was tight. Tight enough that his breath caught in his throat and he wheezed slightly, hunching forward, hands pressing into his thighs as if grounding himself that way might bring some relief. His head dropped between his knees, his vision dotted with stars at the edges. He knew, deep down, that bending over would probably make it harder to breathe, but the thought of anyone seeing him gasping, of letting them witness his throat close up, was unbearable. more below the cut

He finally managed to draw some air in but then he had trouble getting air out, and he was starting to panic a little bit. He tried to cough, just enough to clear his throat, but it came out thin and weakly brittle, barely a sound at all. Still, it was ordinary enough that he might get away with it.

His mind was racing, flipping through excuses he could give if anyone saw him like this. Just tired from dancing, a little lightheaded, no big deal. But his chest didn’t loosen, the grip on his lungs only worsening, and he pressed his fists into his thighs to stop them from trembling. Just breathe, he told himself, hearing his own words in that strained, raspy way that made it feel like his voice wasn’t even his.

He was still catching his breath when someone called his name, laughter ringing through the room.

“Trevor! You’re up next!” Ian teased, shooting him a mischievous grin from across the room.

A chorus of laughter and cheers erupted from the crew. Trevor managed a laugh, trying to play it cool, but he could feel the tightness in his chest again. He put a hand over his heart, hoping to steady himself. “Nah, I’m good, actually—think I’ll sit this one out.”

“Oh, come on! Don’t wimp out!” someone else yelled, egging him on.

He tried to shake his head and brush them off with a smile, but the pressure in his chest was climbing. Each breath felt thinner, his pulse pounding against his ribs. He forced himself to look up, to act unfazed, but someone behind him—maybe Shayne or Damien—gave him a light shove toward the center of the room.

Trevor managed a forced grin, trying to turn the whole thing into a joke. “Yeah, about that,” he started, his voice coming out strained and breathless. “My chest kinda hurts.”

The laughter died down, a few faces turning from amused to mildly concerned. Trevor’s gaze dropped as the attention shifted from playful to questioning. He regretted saying it the second the words left his mouth, but it was the truth—his chest did hurt, and just standing here felt like an effort. His knees wobbled, and he took a slow, unsteady breath, hoping it would pass.

He could hear the concerned voices, but he forced himself to straighten up a little, forcing a sheepish grin onto his face. “it’s alright, guys. Guess I’m just a little out of breath from Rasputin. You know how that song is,” Trevor said, his voice light, trying to push past the discomfort. He leaned forward and wiped his forehead, exaggerating the movement like it was no big deal. “I’m fine. Just, uh... need a minute to catch my breath.”

The chat was full of concerned messages, people asking if he was okay, if he needed to stop. But Trevor gave a thumbs-up, smiling as best as he could, even though his chest still ached with every shallow breath. “We’re gonna wrap this up soon anyway,” he added, hoping to ease the tension. “Nothing serious, don’t worry about me.”

“Yeah, guys, I think we’re gonna call it for today, we’re all a bit tired,” Ian said into the mic, clearly trying to wrap things up quickly. “Thanks for hanging out and donating. We’ll see you next time!”

The screen flickered as the livestream cut off, the chat’s frantic messages lingering in the background, but as soon as the feed ended, the room shifted. The crew didn’t immediately leave. There was a quiet undercurrent of worry, and Trevor could feel it pressing down on him, despite his attempt to downplay it.

As the others started gathering their things, Trevor took a breath, trying to steady his heartbeat. “I’m really fine, guys,” he repeated, though the words felt hollow. Shayne didn’t look convinced.

“Trevor,” Shayne started, voice low and firm. “Let’s get you to the couch, yeah? I don’t think you’re fine.”

Trevor tried to argue, but the last of his energy had already drained away. Instead, he let Shayne guide him to the couch, his mind already full of that gnawing panic, even as he tried to ignore it.

Once they were seated, the others began to hover, exchanging worried glances, their voices low. Trevor leaned back, closing his eyes, trying to breathe through the tightness in his chest. His chest felt like it was caving in, each breath shallow and ragged, like his lungs were barely big enough to hold the air he needed. It wasn’t a pain so much as a pressure, pressing down from inside, from the very center of his ribcage. It started as a subtle tightness, but it grew worse with each minute, slowly stealing his ability to breathe normally. His ribs ached, sore in ways that made him feel fragile, like the smallest movement might crack him open.

He could feel his pulse thumping in his throat, every beat a reminder of how tightly his chest was squeezed. The air in the room felt heavy, thicker than it should’ve been, and he fought to draw in more of it—just enough to make the panic recede. His throat constricted, though, and no matter how hard he tried, the air seemed to get stuck, leaving him gasping, his breath hitching with every failed attempt to take a full inhale. 

His arms were starting to tremble, too, the fine tremors almost imperceptible at first but growing, spreading into his fingers until they were stiff, unresponsive. He clenched his fists in his lap, the tightness in his chest almost matching the ache in his hands, as if everything—his heart, his lungs, his limbs—were struggling to work in tandem. His stomach churned, and he fought the wave of nausea that rose with the frustration of not being able to fix it. Not being able to fix himself.

The pressure in his chest seemed to mount, pulling every ounce of energy out of him, until even sitting up straight felt like too much effort. He slumped, shoulders rounded forward, curling in on himself, hoping that somehow it would ease the sensation, but it didn’t. His breath felt too shallow, like it couldn’t get deep enough to fill his lungs, and every exhale seemed weaker than the one before it. The room around him felt distant, his vision blurry at the edges as though the pressure was forcing his mind to slow down, to shut down.

Shayne’s voice cut through the haze, but it felt like it was coming from far away, muffled by the rush of blood in his ears. "Trevor?" It was a whisper, but it felt like it reverberated through him, sharp and insistent, bringing him back to reality with a jolt.

Trevor nodded, or at least, he tried to. His body felt like it was moving through thick water. Every small gesture, every tiny shift, was exhausting. His head felt light, like it was floating just slightly above his shoulders, detached from the rest of him. His stomach twisted again, and the nausea surged, forcing him to swallow hard, but it didn’t help. It only made the tightness in his chest worse.

He felt his body betray him in that moment, felt the weakness spread like a slow fire. The tension in his chest wasn’t just physical anymore—it was all-consuming. It wrapped itself around his mind, making it harder to focus, to think clearly. All he could think about was the next breath, the one he hadn’t quite been able to take yet, the one that was slipping further and further out of reach.

“Just breathe, just breathe,” he whispered to himself, but the words felt foreign on his tongue, hollow, as if the act of breathing itself had become too much to manage.

Shayne’s hand on his shoulder felt like an anchor, steadying him in ways Trevor couldn’t quite process. He wanted to push it away—he could push it away, but the idea of being alone with this suffocating pressure, this overwhelming sensation of not being able to breathe, felt worse than anything else. 

Trevor squeezed his eyes shut, trying to shut out the world, to block out the pulsing pressure in his chest, but the feeling refused to go away. It was like a vise, closing tighter with every second, and no matter how much he willed it to ease, it only grew worse. His lungs burned with the effort of each shallow, trembling inhale. His head felt heavy, spinning in a dull, foggy way, as if everything was moving too fast around him and he couldn’t keep up. The simple act of breathing had become the hardest thing in the world.

A shaky exhale left him, ragged and thin. He wiped his brow, his skin clammy with sweat, and felt his stomach churn again. It took everything not to double over in discomfort, but he couldn’t—he couldn’t show how bad it really was. He forced his gaze back up, blinking through the haze, and caught Shayne’s worried expression. There was no hiding it now; it was all over his face. The worry. The concern. The realization that Trevor wasn’t okay, and had been lying about it for too long.

“Trevor,” Shayne said, his voice softer now, a touch of urgency creeping in. “You don’t have to keep pretending, man. This isn’t just some after-dance thing. You need to let me—”

Trevor shook his head weakly, cutting him off with a soft, hoarse voice. “No, I’m fine. I just need—” He coughed, the dry, brittle sound forcing its way out of his chest, and the ache deepened, a raw kind of sting that made his throat feel even tighter.

Shayne was right beside him now, his hand warm and firm on Trevor’s back, pressing lightly against the tension in his shoulders. “We’re not doing this. Let’s get you checked out, alright?”

Trevor opened his mouth to protest, but the words died in his throat, swallowed by the tightness that had crawled into every corner of his body. It was impossible to ignore now, and it was getting harder to breathe through it, to pretend he was okay.

As they helped him up, the room felt like it was tilting, his vision dimming at the edges. It wasn’t right—none of this was right. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so helpless, so utterly broken. The thought of being seen like this made him want to crawl into a hole, to hide away from the judgment, the questions, the worry. But all he could do was follow Shayne’s gentle pressure, letting him guide him through the haze of discomfort.

The voices around him grew quieter, softer, but Trevor could barely focus on them. His chest was still tight, still aching, and the reality of what was happening began to sink in—this wasn’t just exhaustion. This wasn’t just a joke or something that would go away after a drink of water or a couple of minutes of rest. It was worse than that, and the thought settled heavily in his chest, deeper than the pain.

Shayne’s voice was a steady presence in his ear, urging him to stay with him, to keep going, just a little bit further. Trevor closed his eyes, focusing on his breath, trying to slow it, trying to calm the storm inside him.

“Just stay with me, alright? We’ll figure this out.”

He nodded weakly, even though he wasn’t sure how. Even though his body still ached, his lungs still fought for air, his mind still tangled in panic.

All he could do was try. Try to breathe. Try to hold on.

[imaginespazzi]

Nivi, just my two cents on how Stephanie (I'm just gonna go with the name for now - love it btw, she totally would name her after Steph - cause I don't wanna keep writing 'the kid' lmao) came to be:

Like totally agree with wanting P to step into a proper parent role, but in terms of Azzi either adopting or opting for a donor, I feel like that's obviously then a very conscious and purposeful decision on Azzi's part to have a kid. Which is totally fine ofc! But idk, I just feel like at that point in her life and career (what, she would have been 25/26? Based on the timeline you gave us), I just don’t see her making that decision already especially if she's gonna be a single parent? Again, not that she couldn't do it, it just feels like she wouldn't.

And I know one-night-stands kinda seem like a cop out or the easy way out of not having to introduce or have the other parent around but I don't think it would be that out of character? People have one night stands, and sometimes sex produces babies no matter how much protection you use ya know 😅. Also, yes I know that choosing to keep the baby is still a conscious decision to have a child but it's not like it was her intention to have a child going into it - am I making sense??

So I guess in that vain, adoption would make sense too, if it was certain circumstances that led to it, rather than her purposefully being like "ok I want to have a kid now and I wanna do it via adoption". Idek I'm sorry if I'm speaking total bullshit.

Again, just my thoughts! Totally ignore if you want!

Other thoughts:

Oooo ok so Stephanie and P have already met in previous games, yes ok I like this development haha. So much potential. I still stand by Tim being the instigator, like he'd go up to P to say hi whenever Azzi's team was playing P's and lil Steph would be hiding behind his leg. 😂 And one day (before P ends up on Azzi's team), P has like a lil toy ready to give to her at one of their games and Stephanie clings on to that toy from then on (despite Azzi's protests).

Hahah yeah I was thinking trade too - well I guess if we wanna be semi-realistic, it could just be that P requested a trade and you know whichever team she was on obvs had to seek the best value and Azzi's team just happened to be the ones to give it to them. And then I can just imagine when P gets the news about the trade going through and realises which team, she's like "oh fuck that's not what I meant" 😭

Also, those flashbacks to when they were together and the time they were apart are gonna hit, I already know (if you choose to incorporate them ofc). Oh my god, like when Azzi goes into labour (if we go the pregnancy route) and she's maybe wishing more than anything that P was there with her or just like moments where she's craving having another person to go through the journey of parenthood with and her subconscious always immediately thinks of P 🥲

And then on the flip side, everytime P comes across baby/kid stuff, she also prolly always ends up thinking of Azzi and lil Steph, even more so after she's met the kid.

I'm also assuming that similar to the UCLA fic, we're not having Azzi tear her ACL again and so they would have both declared for the 2025 draft? Were they already broken up by that point? Cause damn, that would have been a tense and heartbreaking draft night! Cause if they were broken up by then, their break up would potentially have happened in like the week or sum between the natty and draft night? So many possibilities.

I also just remembered that the Fudds have a dog named Curry - damn, Steph getting the dog AND child namesake. He deserves it, i reckon.

Also, some songs I was listening to earlier today that might or might not provide some inspo:

Someday we'll know by Mandy Moore (I was having my annual rewatch of A Walk To Remember and the "someday we'll know why I wasn't meant for you" to the "someday you'll know that I was the one for you" made me think of this fic)

Cardigan by Taylor (mainly the bridge/last verse? Yk the one haha)

Strange by Celeste (this is what made me think of the potentially very angsty draft night after they've just broken up)

I miss you, I'm sorry by Gracie ("you said forever and I almost bought it")

Goodnight and go by Ariana (this is kinda for when they're starting to interact more again - like the "why'd you have to be so cute, it's impossible to ignore you" from Azzi's pov)

But like for real Nivi, you never have to incorporate any of my suggestions, this is just me spitballing and hopefully helping you even if it's just to help you decide "oh ok well we're definitely NOT doing THAT" 😂

-🙋‍♀️

Yeah I've been calling her Stephanie, Stephie for short, in my head so I'm pretty sure that's her name now...

My inbox is currently just ask after ask about how they want/think Stephanie came to be (I swear I really would like to reply to everyone but it's just a liiiiitttle bit exhausting) and I'm just very amused but as always, you and I are on the same wavelength. Like I know some people really want sperm donor/adoption (I love y'all I promise), I just can't really see her at that age and at that time of her career, purposefully trying for a child. I think it's different if she decided to keep the child after a ONS because well it's already there? Idk if that makes sense cause I don't know how to say it really but there's just a difference in my head about that?

WAIT I LOVE THAT AWWWW. But yeah Stephie and P have definitely interacted before and even if it's only a couple of times a year, I think they'd already just a little bit enamored, so when P becomes her coach, it doesn't take long for them to become wrapped around each other (spoiler?)

As we all know, I do love my flashback so trust bestie, there will be plenty, some angsty, some fluffy but a lot of flashbacks!

I actually am gonna keep Azzi's injuries in this one cause I want to keep all of the UConn lore similar to reality (yes this is me just wanting to add a cruise scene again...) so they'd actually go to the draft in different years and this may or may not (I'm not even tryna tease I actually haven't decided) play a little bit of a part in the break up (how? idk we'll find out)

LMAO Steph is also an honorary Fudd atp and will absolutely be meeting Stephie at some point in this fic

AH I ALWAYS LOVE YOUR SONGS REC!! Babes have you already made a playslist?? I think my main song for this fic might end up being Last Kiss by Taylor Swift (yes another Taylor Swift song I know) because "so I'll watch your life in pictures like I used to watch you sleep" just feels very apt for them.

I love your suggestions as always babes and I hope you have more <3

[clatterbane]

Back home from that second damned full general anesthesia gastroscopy session, and I survived. Just about. Feeling pretty rough about now, and very little of it is from the procedure itself. Still pretty full of Migraine Potion, of course, to make everything more pleasant.

But! This happened. Sure, the whole extra fuss of getting anesthesiology involved makes everything so much safer and better. Particularly with the T1 diabetes!

The main Dunning-Kruger part that I was referring to with the anesthesiologist I got hold of today was that she seemed to be operating under the strange idea that diabetes means that you need a constant supply of glucose, or you will go hypoglycemic. (As in, the exact fucking opposite of how anything works.) And that the long-acting insulin that I was not due to take would also somehow help keep my blood sugar from going dangerously low right then and there? Idek. Maybe she thinks that is a depot shot of extended release sugar? 🥴 (Again, it must be Opposite Day in the Anesthesiologyverse.)

There may have been some language/communication issues there. But yeah that really did not seem to be the main problem. This also was not an issue at all last time. It was definitely that anesthesiologist giving crazy instructions.

Hospitals are not a healthy place for T1 diabetics to end up anyway. There is so much piss-poor knowledge paired with God complexes going around. But, that's one of the strangest understandings that I have ever even heard of.

At least that was only half of my usual Lantus dose they insisted on giving me. So, when saying that it was not due for hours yet--and I that I did not want or need it--did not work? I went ahead and took the shit rather than go completely ballistic at them, because at least that was unlikely to do any actual harm. Guess I'll take the other half when the next dose is actually due, and hope the dosing disruption doesn't fuck me up too bad over the next few days.

(Though at least that was not my entire daily Lantus dose they were screwing with. I regularly take it twice a day, to help keep things steadier. So, a few units hours early should hopefully not make much difference.)

But yeah, I'm glad that nurse in the pre-op and after recovery post-op section did have more of a clue, saw what was shooting my blood sugar up immediately, and stopped the IV before it just kept climbing. Several more units of insulin later, and I am just feeling like slightly reheated shit after that little roller coaster ride. It could have been much worse, but that shit kind of scared me anyway.

Also glad it really isn't a long procedure, other than all the waiting and extra rigmarole compared to just going straight into an endoscopy room like I was doing before they decided to do this instead. They thankfully didn't have that long to pump my insulin-deficient ass full of liquid sugar.

Though, I did end up stuck for longer in the actual recovery room, getting glucosed up with no brakes, because the coughing from the intubation tearing up my throat triggered enough of an asthma attack this time when I did NOT have access to the inhaler I preemptively brought along after last time, that they ended up giving me this mask nebulizer treatment in there.

So much safer and better! 😒

But, I am finally home and now making some coffee.

And I am so glad that ordeal is over with for another month now. With some talk of shifting it to every 6 weeks after that. I really hope I don't get that same anesthesiologist again.

At any rate, I intend to be loud if I have to about NO FREAKING GLUCOSE. They were purposely not using it before.

[deadpoolsbottombitch]

Husband and i went to a food pantry pickup today for the first time. Feeling a surprising amount of shame and guilt for doing so. On one hand we were doing "ok" scrounging for change every day or driving instacart to get mcdonalds. On the other hand, anyone who's as excited as i was to get a bagged beef stew and a loaf of bread probably needs more food security in their life. I feel ashamed and i feel like i took food from people who needed it more, but i also know that these resources exist to help, and that there SHOULD be no shame in utilizing them. Husband is battling addiction for the first time in years, and both of our mental health is tanking. No money for extra food or necessities, and the job i work 45 hrs a week at isn't enough to pay all our bills AND buy food AND get meds. Idek why I'm posting this, i guess just venting? But idk i might feel ashamed and guilty, and my husband might be suffering withdrawal and feeling horrible, but at least tonight we will have hot beef stew and good bread, and we can feel, for a mealtime, what it will be like when the struggle is over.

[hotdogdynamitezzz]

Thoughts on the Wednesday Series Characters Birth Charts?

Mercury retrograde is testing me and my technology, so idek if my next post will work, but just in case I'm only doing a fun post for Wednesday's Birth Chart Interpretation I will post later today

I binge watched this series, and It's SOO GOOD. My favorite characters are, of course, Wednesday, and especially Enid, she's my absolute fav.

Here are some of my thoughts for the characters' placements except for Wednesday. You can all join in! It would be fun to guess!

Enid - Leo rising + Aries venus - She's very impulsive, so I think she's fire dominant, most likely. Her incredibly protective nature and happy, friendly disposition is Leo like as they're a very playful and passionate sign but crazy protective and jealous over their loved ones. I'd say Aries Venus because she can't keep her crushes a secret lol and puts it on display. She's very passionate in love with her relationship and moves very fast. It's reminiscent of typical Aries Venus behavior imo. I can also see major Gemini & 3rd House placements like a potential Gemini mercury, this girl has networks and chats for days lol.

Bianca - Scorpio moon. Her mommy issues and insecurities pop out with her Scorpio moon as she seeks to protect her reputation at all costs. She's paranoid when anyone threatens to take her power or reputation away. She's very perceptive naturally and can get into people's heads. She figures out people quickly and seeks to gain power over them. Not to mention her mom's relation with the family cult, and obsession over her daughter giving up her own life to devote herself to the cult IS SO SCORPIO MOON. The moon does rule over our relationship with our mom and our behavior. So the Scorpio moon showed there was definitely a power imbalance going on in her family between her mom's obsession with controlling Bianca and wanting to isolate her, which reminds me of moon-puto or Scorpio moon 100%. It wasn't restricting or limiting Bianca but instead exploiting her powers for evil and taking away her morals and independence. The type of psychological abuse in that family had more of a Plutonic theme regarding manipulation, exploitation, and the emphasis on control.

I love Bianca I could go in-depth with her like Wednesday's chart reading later today

Tyler - Gemini moon + Virgo and Aquarius placements. He's giving Aquarius rising for me but im not totally sure about his rising sign. The Gemini moon because he's too good at lying and cold after after pretending he had feelings for Wednesday. Honestly, he's one of the hardest to asses for me but I'm pretty sure he's an earth or air moon.

Ms. Thornhill.- I think Ms. Thornhill is either a Virgo or Pisces Moon, I see a lot of Virgo for her, tho...she's spiteful and thinks her idea and way is the only correct way. Virgos can be super spiteful and forget to listen to reason when they think they're right. It's kinda similar to Aquarius, but when tiny things are screwed up, she loses her shit and makes sure to track + keep her eye on everything. It's more methodical and detailed. I wanted to say Pisces because she's delusional, but Virgos can be just as delusional when they think their plan is right.

Let me know what placements you think any character, including ones not listed have. It will be fun to discuss👀

[cosmohydrargyrum]

like idk I feel pretty hopeless about my health in general especially since my rheumatologist and my PT make it seem like aids should be a last resort for me. I love the optimism (lie) but i can't fucking walk. I'm depressed, fatigued, and suicidal (no intent just thoughts) beyond anything but I mask it so well even in front of medical professionals who I'm supposed to trust with the reality. idek what it is that they're so insistent I can be normal if I just try hard enough. I just don't feel like trying when in actuality my condition will only get worse. I feel like no one actually realizes how much I'm affected. in front of some people I feel embarrassed that I'm so "lazy" because I haven't done much and I'm not working even though I haven't done much because I literally can't. I'm okay with acknowledging the fact that I'm disabled, I just wish everyone else would be. God I want a cane so bad but there's no way my parents would let me get one because they have the utmost faith in these people, and I'm afraid I'd use it improperly and ruin my shoulders and wrists.

adding to the cane thing my balance issues are getting so much worse and dizzy spells more consistent. I feel like it would help with support, not all the time I guess but when it's really bad. marching band is starting and after these rehearsals I will be so done. and I'm in front ensemble so I'm STANDING THE WHOLE TIME not even walking. but according to my PT this is such great timing that I'm learning stability now!!!!!!! oh my god he can suck my penis so hard guys he's so fucking irritating. bro the other day I almost fell down the stairs like 4 times because my knees and ankles were giving out and I was so dizzy. BUT SINCE I DONT LOOK LIKE IM IN EXCRUCIATING PAIN WHEN I PULL UP TO THE FUNCTION EVERYTHINGS FINE RIGHT 😝😝😝😝😝 who needs aids when you have determination 🔥🔥🔥🔥

I'm also afraid I'm just being dramatic. I had an atrocious past experience with physical therapy and i almost broke down at my consultation the other day because I hated PT last time. wouldn't you know it, I hate it this time. I feel like the PT doesn't really hear me even tho hes an EDS specialist. I'm also also afraid that rheumatologist and PT are right and if I just try ill get better at managing everything. I don't like being wrong about things I'm sure of and I especially don't want to hear it from an authority figure.

i literally can't do anything. I don't have the energy to do anything. and when I do things I pay such a heavy price in pain and fatigue. i havent even crocheted in a minute because i cant think hard enough to do it. all I could really do today was feed myself based on piss poor hunger cues and shower.

[skitskatdacat63]

3, 17, 24, 30!! (love georgia st-leclerc!!)

Hey Georgia!!!! Ty for the ask :)

3. Your favorite piece(s)?

Aaaahh that's difficult hm, cause there's a lot of old art I haven't obviously posted on here as well that I like so I'll stick to art I posted here obviously lmao. I really really like the vettonso matador piece, like the colors and the pose and everything, it feels a lot like older art I've drawn so I was happy to get back at it y'know. I love this particular Seb portrait, bcs im proud that I drew literal historical artifacts 😭 I'd love to try and draw more of that type of thing. And I like this painting practice a lot bcs it really jumpstarted the way I paint today! But tbh I think every art piece is my favorite art piece bcs I only rly finish a few or less a month, so they all mean a lot to me

17. What is something you're confident about in your art

I guess my ability to actually put things on paper??? When I have a random idea, I'm usually at least somewhat confident I can actually execute it. It's just so fun to go from randomly having an idea in your head to having a finished product. That's why I usually put a process gif, fun to see how it got there!

24. What's a compliment about your art that has always stuck with you

A friend on here once told me they were very surprised to learn I haven't taken an art class since middle school. I'm weirdly proud about that. I like to do things in my own way on my terms so :)

30. Whats something you're proud of about your artstyle?

I could probably come up w a more serious answer for this BUT I love the little cheek marks I draw on literally every piece and I'm soooo curious if anyone's ever actually noticed them or not. For some reason I started drawing them one day, idek if I can find that first one bcs it was an evolution, and I've never stopped. I think my art style is generally pretty unique to me? But at the same point, I'm happy to have that tiny little thing as a little hallmark of my work

[yakultii]

I am here to let you know (you might have a guess who this could be)

That I check on you constantly.

Like, let's see what unhinged shenanigans Yakult has had rattling in her brain today.

And then I start as many conversations through replies as possible. I'm about to do it right now, j hope you've left something good for me!

you’re the sweetest human on earth !!!!!! 😭😭💗💗💗💗 im so sowwwwyyy I haven’t left much good for u recently I don’t even feel real 😣 I used to be a lot more unhinged on tiktok a a few yrs back and ever since I actually barely share many of my thoughts on the internet at all (despite how it seems) and if I do I tend to keep it surface level as heck cos I don’t realise ppl are actually reading them like even on here a lot of the time I write things and post and then delete literally immediately cos im like literally no one cares but nawww ill do my best to leave at least just a couple of my 10 kazillion thoughts a day for u hehe why r ppl on the internet so niiiceeeeee some ppl like u r actually so wholesome like I don’t even feel real but this kinda makes me wish I was real also why can’t I know u irl 😣😣😣😣 same goes for all my moots ugh. Ik there r more lovely ppl irl too but as I said I barely feel human anymore so I like forget to engage w hoooomans anyways Idek what im saying but thank u for making me feel a little less alone and insane for a moment, I love u and appreciate u and hope u have an amazing day <33333

[mondaychildsworld]

I know the end - Joel x Reader

Previous chapter / Next chapter

Part Three / ?

Rating: M

Word Count: 5.3K

Chapter summary: In search of a vehicle you stumble upon some infected and learn some new things about each other. Reader patches Joel up and ✨✨✨!!

Warnings: Infected, (small) mention of drugs, swearing, some violence I guess, and some tiny tiny tiny amount of fluff (?!?!) (idek if thats a warning but here we go)

A/N: Sorry for taking soooo long! I've had two weeks of travel during the summer, started a full time job AND moving at the same time... Let's just say there hasn't been any time left for writing. I'm already sleep deprived lol. I've done some sporadically writing while I've had time to kill at airports and I've finally tied it all together! Enjoy!! It's definitely worth reading and you'll experience some feelings at the end, aaaah!!!

And here's my tiny taglist: @boofy1998

November 21st 2023

“Okay, so it shouldn’t be too long now!” Joel shouts as you find yourself and your companions on an old dirt road. Everything you see is still covered in white. It’s been better weather for a couple of days. The sun is shining and you’re in a better mood. 

“Yeah? You think we’ll be there today?” You ask and squint your eyes, raising your hand to your head to bring your eyes some shade from the sun. 

“Sure.” Joel simply says, but he doesn’t give you a look back. So kind of him. 

You’ve been hiking to Cheyenne for the last couple of days. It’s been going alright, despite everything. You’ve accepted the pain and the loss. It still feels like there’s a big hole in your heart. A piece of the puzzle to your soul is missing. But you’ve accepted that there’s no other option than keep going. It scares you even more to give up. You might not have anyone left to live for, but there’s got to be some sort of reason why you’re still here. Your time is not up. You know that this is not the end for you. 

Ellie puts on a mischievous smile and pulls up the book ‘No pun intended: Volume Too’. You let a small chuckle slip past your lips. Joel, who walks in front of the two of you, looks back and sees Ellie browse through the pages. 

”Oh, Ellie…” Joel starts with a sigh. The 14-year old has been reading from the pun book non stop, or kept asking questions only a FEDRA teenager would ask. She’s clearly smart, but there’s a lot about the world she doesn’t know about. She keeps being fascinated by just the smallest things. For example, could she not stop asking about how cool it was that you could go to the cinema, once you’ve stated that you often used to visit the movies. ‘You could buy popcorn?! Damn, what’s that like? I’ve never had popcorn’ she could say, and then tell you about the shitty movie night they sometimes could have at the FEDRA school on special occasions. You felt sorry for her, a kid not being able to grow up as one. 

“Who is the penguin’s favorite aunt?” she asks the both of you as she ignores Joel’s small protest. Her eyes darted between the two of you eagerly waiting for any of you to come up with the answer. 

“Oh I don’t know Ellie.” You say and your eyes and stare at the man in front of you, now walking backwards, waiting for the second half of the pun. He raises his hands as a way of surrendering to the question, he glimpses over to you and your eyes meet. You think you could see some sort of smile behind the scruffy beard and bushy eyebrows. He actually enjoys this, you think. He really doesn’t mind the puns, if you could guess. He tries to not show it though.

“Aunt-Arctica!” Ellie says with a big smile, laughs a bit and clutches the book to her chest. “That one’s good, right?”

Joel gives Ellie a quick, almost pained smile and hums something inaudible. He then looks at you again, for just a couple of seconds. It looks like he suddenly regrets resting his eyes on you and quickly looks back to Ellie again. 

“Next one Ellie?” You request another pun to keep your mind and eyes occupied on anything else than him. Because, of course, you have been looking at him, always walking in front of you. Not like there’s much else to do out here. He’s just a bit older than you, but surely still looks good. You’d guess he was very handsome when he was younger. Now he’s hiding all of that under a stern, unfriendly approach, very much directed towards you.

“Your wish is my command.” She says jokingly “So, how do you make holy water?”

You don’t know that one. Instead Joel’s face lights up, but he doesn’t say anything. 

“You know it?!” Ellie giggles loudly. 

“Yep, not gonna say it though.” He answers. 

“Oh no, no, no.” Ellie points at him with the book. “You gotta answer, because if I reveal the answer, you’ll only lie and tell me you knew it”

“I wouldn’t do that!” Joel says, jokingly defensive.

“Yes you would!” Ellie bites back. “Just say it!”

They continue to bicker about who’s going to reveal the answer to the pun as the dirt road makes a slight turn to the right and just there, in the far distance, you see it. You gasp for a second and then nervously look around y0u. They haven’t noticed. The city unveils itself in front of you. Far away, you can spot buildings and roads belonging to the city of Cheyenne.

“Guys!” You excitedly say as you try to gain their attention. But they’re in deep arguments about the pun. 

“Hey!” You try again. But with no response you reach out and lightly push Joel by his shoulder. He gives you that look again, but also looks a bit startled as to why you’re touching him. 

“Look.” You quietly say, now that you’ve gained his attention. He looks down at your hand, still on his shoulder. You quickly drop it and take a step back as he turns around to see what you’re wanting his attention for. 

“Well I’ll be damned.” He mutters and looks back at Ellie. “Welcome to Cheyenne.” 

After some time spent on foot towards the city you’re finally standing at the outskirts of the town. There’s abandoned cars all the way down Route 85 you just walked by. The whole way over here Joel had been holding a firm grip on his rifle. The lighthearted laughs and the kind gaze was completely gone. He’s now in a whole other mood. He’s on a mission, and his focus is now 100% on the plan of action for the town in front of you. 

“Hey, remember what I said?” Joel says to the group, and it seems more like a statement than a question. 

“Go through, be quiet, find a car and get out of here.” Ellie answers, pleased to show Joel that she’s able to listen, before she adds, ”Please can I use my gun?” 

Joel steps over a pile of metal trash that’s blocking your way into entering the town. Both you and Ellie follow. You can see that he considers Ellie’s request for a moment, and quickly settles for a positive answer, if you’d ask Ellie herself. 

“Sure.” He says as he reaches out a hand for you to grab, as you make your way down from the old scrap pile. “But only when I say so.”

You just give him a glare back, and let the silence speak for itself. You don’t need help over this little obstacle. Joel sighs and offers his hand to Ellie, instead of you. Ellie, who apparently liked you, takes up on your way of refusing help and jumps down from the pile by herself. There’s an awful lot of noise when little pieces of old junk follow her on the way down, metal slamming into the concrete ground. 

Joel squeezes his eyes shut and draws his hand back, now raking through his hair. Definitely annoyed. 

“Ellie! What did I just say!” He hisses before he looks around for any kind of movement from the silent city. 

“Sorry…” Ellie apologizes.

The silence is almost eerie. It’s like it’s too quiet. There’s no way this city is empty. If there aren't any humans that made up a safe camp in any nearby building, you wouldn’t be surprised to stumble upon one or two infected. You kind of hoped for the later, humans often meant more trouble. And you can’t always shoot your way out of trouble. Like last time. 

Of course, it’s also the humans who bring the silence. Not the other way around. Many of the infected can make an awful lot of noise. 

But this time you seem to be safe, as you slowly make your way into the city. The open view you had over the landscape slowly disappears as you make your way into the heart of the city, away from the interstates. You tightly cling to your gun. You’re nervous. But you would never confess it. 

Your eyes roam the streets for a car that isn’t burned out, has a flat tire or just looks like complete junk.

Joel leads the group further into the center of the town. You jump over the guardrail and start to miss the wide open space you just left behind. 

You glimpse over your shoulder and see Ellie walking as if you were out on a high school field trip. The nervous feeling in your belly does not give you the same easy going appearance. Maybe it’s because you’ve been out here for longer than her, or it is because you remember what cities like this might’ve looked like before. 

Cheyenne is that kind of city that isn’t huge, but still pretty large. You pass a couple of motels at the outskirts of the town. They look worn down and you don’t even want to know what could be hiding inside. You know all too well that places like that look very inviting when you’re tired, hungry and on the run from the mess that this world turned out to be. 

About half an hour later you’re way further into the town than you’re actually comfortable with. You’ve passed many vehicles by now, only to find most of them out of gas or with a flat tire, which doesn’t feel like a good sign. 

“I’m not feeling great about this.” You say after you checked another vehicle, which turned out to have a dead battery. 

“I know.” Joel mumbles. “But we need that car.”

There’s a wrinkle in between his brows. Worried. 

“Let’s have a look in here, maybe?” Ellie asks and gestures towards the supermarket on the next block. 

“You won’t find anything in there.” Joel says. 

“Especially not a car.” You add. 

You look up at the sky. The sun is going to set soon. This time of the year doesn’t bring you that much daylight. 

“I’m hungry.” Ellie simply states. 

Joel nods silently towards Ellie and then looks over to you. 

“If you want to, you can try out the rest of the cars down the street, and I’ll see if I can find her something to eat.”

You hesitate at his words, suggesting leaving you alone on the street. He must’ve seen how the idea he just proposed made you uneasy. 

“We’ll be in for just a few minutes, there’s probably not anything left anyway.” He speaks quietly, calmly. 

You nod, and watch them walk toward the supermarket while you continue to try out the cars on the street. 

The next couple of cars turn out to be a disappointment. Flat tire. Flat tire. Crashed. Broken windshield. Totally burnt out. Flat tire. 

But then you see a car a couple of vehicles away that actually looks promising. You look around, keeping a steady hand on the trigger as you slowly walk up to the truck and open the door. You take a few steps back and aim into the truck. 

Empty. 

You sigh with relief. The car looks way too good to have been standing here since the outbreak. Someone must’ve left it here not too long ago. 

You jump into the car seat and immediately start working on hot-wiring the car. 

You hear the engine kicking to life and you let out a happy shriek in the car, you’re just about to turn around and get out of the car to go get Joel and Ellie when you hear a loud crash. 

The smile on your lips suddenly fades away and is now turned into a frown. You turn your head towards the sound. At the same time you see shatters of glass on the ground, just outside the supermarket. And a body. There’s a body on the ground. 

“No!” You yell and throw yourself out of the car. It can’t be Ellie. It’s too big. Your heart sinks as you realize that it could be Joel’s body laying there lifeless on the street. That means that Ellie could be left alone inside. But not totally alone. Alone with a threat, even worse. 

You sprint up to the body and yell for Ellie at the same time. You draw your gun and as you are just a few steps away from the body, you realize it’s not Joel. It’s an infected. Shot in the head, blood pooling around the fungi covered body. 

You hear your name being yelled and look through the broken supermarket window. 

Your eyes meet Joel’s. 

There’s panic and fear at the same time as they’re determined. 

“Get the car!” He yells at you, and as you turn around and run towards the truck there’s gunshots. 

So much happens at the same time. Your pulse has skyrocketed in just a few seconds. You jump into the car and quickly reverse it back towards the supermarket. You need to get to safety. All of you. 

As you reverse back you keep looking into the rearview window. When you’re about halfway you see two people running out from the supermarket. Joel and Ellie… tightly followed by a bunch of infected. You don’t have time to count them, but it seems to be around half a dozen of them. 

Just as you slow down to let them into the truck, when they’re just a few meters behind, it happens. You feel something graze your shoulder. You turn your head and see how an infected is leaning into the car through the open window of the passenger seat. 

Panic sets in your body at once and you scream as you push the break down. The jaw of what once seemed to be a teenage boy clatters violently after your skin and flesh. You reach for your gun with shaky hands. 

“Help!” You scream as you accidentally drop your gun to the floor. You don’t have time to search for it now. The infected boy keeps crawling into the car through the window and you try to shove it back without getting bitten as you’re now pressed up against the door of the car.

A couple of seconds later the door opens abruptly. You nearly fall out but your back lands against something warm and firm. You see a rifle above your head as you try to grasp anything to hold onto. A second later the infected is shot and dead and you’re being roughly pulled up by strong arms. 

Soon you realize what’s happening. Joel pushes you back into the seat. He shot the infected and saved you. 

“Than-“ You start to thank him, but are abruptly interrupted by a gasp and some cursing from behind Joel. 

He turns around to face Ellie, who stumbles up behind him, white as a sheet. 

He raises his rifle and shoots off the infected that has now gotten uncomfortably close to Ellie. 

He gives her a worried look and tells her to get in the truck. She jumps into the backseat as he rushes to the passenger seat, still shooting at the infected closing up to the car. 

As soon as Joel has dragged the dead body out of the car and you all have taken a seat you press down on the gas pedal as hard as you can. The car speeds away quickly and you leave the scene behind. 

“What the hell happened in there?!” You exclaim and look up into the mirror, back at Ellie. She stays quiet, fumbles with the hem of her shirt and gives Joel a worrying look. She ignores your question and the looks you give through the mirror. 

You try and navigate your way out of the city, without stumbling upon even more surprises. That was a close call, for all of you. 

“Joel…” Ellie quietly says. You give them a quick glance through the mirror. He’s already leaning back to Ellie in the passenger seat. 

You make a quick turn to the left. The pressing silence in the car is obvious. You just escaped death yet another time, this wasn’t the end either. 

At the same moment you steer the car straight up the street you just turned to, you catch a glimpse of Ellie in the backseat. It’s for just a second, before she pulls her sleeve down again. But you see it. The bite mark. 

You freeze in your seat. Your knuckles turn white as your grip on the steering wheel tightens. Fuck.

“You’re infected.” You say with a shaky voice. “I’m so sorry Ellie, I’m so sorry but we can’t-“

Your voice breaks. You feel tears approaching and you swallow and try to gather your thoughts. Ellie is just a girl and her days are counted. 

“No.”

It’s Joel who speaks up. 

“Yes. You know how this will end.” You answer. 

“You don’t understand.”

“Yes I do. I’ve seen people getting bit before.”

He calmly observes you for a second. It’s frustrating how he doesn’t seem to even give Ellie some sort of reaction towards her new death sentence. 

“There’s no way out of this.” You continue. 

“Just drive.” He says sternly before leaning back again to Ellie. “You’ okay?”

His tone changes completely as soon as he speaks to her instead of you. They continue to mumble with each other for a minute. That’s when you decide that you’ve had enough. You’ve driven a couple of blocks away from the group of infected and decide that you’re at a safe distance. You push the break. 

“What are you doing?!” Ellie asks, frightened, holding onto Joel’s headrest as the car stops abruptly. 

“You’re infected and you two can’t continue to ignore that fact.” You say and cross your arms. “What the fuck is this?”

“Jesus, just-“ Joel says and rakes his fingers through his silver sprained hair. “Just move the fucking car and we’ll sort this out.”

“Please enlighten me, how do we ‘sort this out’ now?” You ask as you grab the steering wheel again. “She’s infected.”

“I’m not.” A quiet voice says from behind. 

“Ellie.” Joel warns her. 

You reluctantly start to drive the truck again, through the streets like they’re a maze to get out of this town. You did get a car, at least. Mission complete. In one way. 

“What do you mean Ellie?” You sigh. “I saw the bite mark.” 

“We should just tell her, Joel.” 

“Ellie! You agreed not to-“

“Yeah, I know.” She says. “But what if she just decides to, I don’t know, kill me in my sleep now?!” 

“She won’t.” He says and makes a distressed grimace before he covers his face with his large hands. “You know what, fuck it.”

He sighs and turns to you. 

“She’s immune.”

“Joel, that’s impossible.”

“It’s not.” He says. “I’ve… I’ve seen it.”

“What do you mean?”

Ellie leans forwards and pops her head between the two of you. She props her arms up on your seats. 

“I’ve been bitten before, but I’ve never turned.” She says and looks over to Joel. “He wanted to shoot me at first too but here we are, on this road trip towa-“

“That’s enough.” Joel chimes in.

Ellie puts her arm between the two of you, over the gear shift. It’s the opposite arm from what you saw in the mirror just a couple of minutes ago. She pulls her sleeve up and you glance down. It’s obviously a bite mark. It’s definitely cordyceps, but totally healed. Ellie’s left with only a scar. 

“Oh.” You say. That’s the only thing you can say. You’re shocked, confused and still a bit stressed out from the incident. Ellie rolls her sleeve down again and a silence falls over all of you as you drive your way out of town.

About an hour later you’re far away from Cheyenne. You had driven west, trying to stay away from the big roads. Ellie has fallen asleep in the backseat, mouth slightly open. 

There’s been nothing but silence between you and Joel since you found out about Ellie’s immunity. He’s been reading the map and pointing out which way to go. But other than that, you hadn’t spoken. 

“Joel…” You start, silently, to not wake Ellie up. You glance into the mirror but she hasn’t moved an inch. 

You get a grumpy humming sound as a response. 

“Why are you here?”

“What?” He answers, and sounds tired. 

“Why are you and Ellie here?” You ask. “It’s pretty weird, you’ve just showed up in the middle of the woods, with an immune kid?”

He’s quiet. 

“You show up with a teenage girl, who’s apparently immune? I know you well enough to know that this is not your style. You’ve given me such a hard time this week. So what am I supposed to do? Don’t you understand that I’m freaking out here?”

 Your rambling trails off. There are a few more seconds of silence before he speaks. 

“Don’t act like you know me.”

“Oh, so you’re still going to give me the cold shoulder? It’s not like I expected a warm welcome from you, but this? You’re just so unfriendly for no reason at all. I left my sister for dead about a week ago and you just shut me out, it’s like you have no empathy left in your soul.”

“I-“ He starts but stops himself, taking a couple of seconds to decide what to say or not. “I don’t… it’s complicated and I never asked for this.” 

“Yeah?” You ask. “Fucking complicated, no doubt about that.” 

He doesn’t give a proper answer, but you hear him grunt something you really can’t make out.

It’s dark outside. All you see is the stars scattered over the dark blue sky and the small road in front of you. Your eyes have been on the hunt for a good place to camp. At least you can sleep in the car now, as a backup plan.  

Your stomach rumbles a bit. You haven’t eaten since yesterday, since the supermarket visit hadn’t gone as planned. Joel looks out the passenger window. You’re stuck here together in the car, so you suppose that’s all he can do as he tries to ignore you again. He’s slowly scratching his beard with his hand. 

Suddenly he pauses and raises his hand up to the window. He points out in the dark at the same time as he finally speaks up. 

“Drive over there.” The tiredness in his tone is changed into something else, something more hopeful. “Old cabin.”

You slow down and turn to the right, into an overgrown dirt road. Once, it might’ve been covered by gravel. Now it’s barely visible. 

Now you see the small cabin too. It’s not big, but it looks sturdy, after all these years left abandoned. You pull up next to it and Joel looks back at Ellie, still asleep, before grabbing his rifle. 

“Wait here.” He says and his dark eyes meet yours. You just nod and feel the breeze of cold air finding its way into the car as he opens the door and leaves. You feel like shit.

He’s gone for a couple of minutes and you sit there frozen, the whole time. This whole situation is fucked up. You’re left in the car with a possibly, or possibly not, infected kid in the middle of nowhere. 

Soon Joel comes back and opens the backseat door next to Ellie but pauses and looks over at you for a second. He nods back towards the house to say ‘all good, let’s go’. Carefully he grips her shoulder and shakes her slightly.

You hear her mumble and shuffle out from the truck, with Joel’s arm around her shoulders as they make their way into the cabin. You sit silently in the car for a moment before you turn the engine off. The lights turn off and the backs of your two companions disappear just like your source of light. It takes a couple of seconds to get your eyes used to the dark. You take a deep breath and open the driver's door and step out onto the frozen ground. The flashlight blinks a bit as you click the power button and you need to firmly hit it against the palm of your hand before the flickering stops. The solid stream of light leads you up to the cabin, backpack slung over your shoulder. Your breath creates a frozen cloud in front of you as you exhale deeply before you enter the cabin. 

Once you’re inside, you can see that the cabin's layout is basically just one big room. The small kitchen is located in the right corner. It’s small and full of stuffed animals on the wall, hunting trophies. You suppose this cabin must’ve been an old hunting cabin. The room is sparsely furnished. A couch is placed in the middle of the room, with a small and dusty coffee table in front. Ellie is already fast asleep on the couch. On the wall next to the kitchen, a big fireplace dominates most of the wall, with a big head of a deer hanging right over it. 

In front of the fireplace you find a hunched down figure, which is Joel, trying to get a fire going.

You nervously look out of the windows, trying to make sure that no one, or nothing, followed you out here. You close the curtains and take a look in the cabinets of the kitchen but with no luck. They’re all empty of anything edible, but are stashed with some outdoor equipment, some plates, and a first aid kit, but it looks pretty beat up so you just suppose there isn’t anything of use in there. You sigh and awkwardly turn around to face the room. In front of the fireplace, in the cabin's only armchair, Joel  sits slumped down with his head down, focusing on his hands.

There’s no other comfortable place to sit, other than the floor. You consider going back out to sleep in the car, even if that’s an option you’re not too keen on.

Joel noticed your awkward stance in the kitchen and you caught his stare. His mouth is slightly open and his eyes look tired. He blinks a couple of times and then pulls out his sleeping bag from his backpack next to him, as if he could read your mind. 

“Take it.” He says and holds the sleeping bag out towards you, like a peace offering. 

You slowly walk towards him and the fireplace, not breaking eye contact. As soon as you reach out and grab the sleeping bag his attention goes back to his other hand. You glance down and see that he’s hurt. There’s a cut in the soft flesh between his thumb and index finger, and his knuckles are bruised. 

“Hey, let me help you.” You say as you bend down and try to grab his hand but he shoves your hand away and mutters something.

You take a step back and remember the first aid kit in the kitchen cabinet. You walk over there and open the door, grab the small back and start to dig through its contents. It’s mostly empty, but - bingo! - a roll of gauze bandage. 

Joel looks reluctantly at you as you bend down on the sleeping bag in front of him again. You give him a look and he sighs as he slowly places his hand in yours, which is already reached out for his. 

You take your bottle of water and start cleaning the wound and Joel hisses and drags his hand back a bit.

“I know something better.” He breathes out in pain. 

“There’s this bar cart…” He gestures behind him and you nod and walk behind the armchair. Against the wall there is indeed a small bar cart, mostly covered in old boxes for ammunition, a dirty old whiskey glass and some dusty old gloves, but on the lower shelf there are a couple of almost empty bottles. You grab a glass bottle with a clear liquid and open it. You sniff carefully and it’s clearly still pretty strong after all these years in solitude.

You walk back to Joel and bend down in front of him, again. This time you grab his hand and you pause for a second. This almost feels too intimate. You hesitate to continue and you’re once again faced with that awkward feeling you had in the kitchen before. Joel places his other hand on yours, and holds it tight with both hands. You look up and meet his gaze. You must look terrified, like a deer in the headlights. How did you allow yourself to get this close to Joel? How did he even allow it?! The man who’s been more hostile than gracious towards you - is now holding your hand in a way you’d never imagine. You wish you had gone back to sleep in the truck, or that your stash of pills wasn’t long gone. You wanted to remove yourself from the situation, or at least numb the anxiety in your chest. 

“It’s okay.” Joel assures and slowly lets go of your hand so you’re left with only the injured one, resting heavily in yours. 

You slowly start to dab the cut on his hands clean with the alcohol that you found. You clean his knuckles and can’t help but study his hands even more. They’re big, rugged and firm in contrast to yours - which are rather the opposite to yours. They might not be as smooth and pretty as they used to be, but now, compared to his, it doesn’t look like you’ve been through an apocalypse at all. 

“Fuck.” He grits his teeth and tries to stay quiet to not wake up the sleeping teenager on the couch. The alcohol must sting in the cut. 

You start to wrap the gauze around his hand and the cut once everything looks clean.

“How did you…?” You mumble as you secure the gauze, but you don’t let go of his hand. He doesn’t move either. You feel your pulse rise. 

“The glass door of the supermarket.” He mumbles and starts to stroke your hand with his thumb. The movement makes your skin tingle. But for him, it must hurt. Despite that, he keeps going. “Or the window, I don’t know.”

You just nod. You don’t know what to say. Or if you even can say anything. You’re terrified and totally consumed by his skin brushing against yours, and his honest, almost vulnerable gaze. 

“Look, I…” He starts but trials off just as Ellie mumbles something.

You both draw your hands back and your eyes quickly dart over to the couch. Ellie smacks her lips slowly and her mouth stays open just a bit, before she starts to snore.

The spot Joel’s thumb kept brushing at your hand suddenly feels cold. You shiver a little bit and almost feel caught in the act of something… Something you weren’t supposed to do. No, that was nothing. That was only an act of gratitude for patching him up. Nothing else. You didn’t even want it to be anything else, you tried to tell yourself. But somehow something had shifted in the air between the two of you. You had told him he had given you the cold shoulder, that he’d been nothing but unfriendly to you and maybe he felt ashamed of his bad behavior. You didn’t need to be friends, but maybe he realized that you at least could be equals.

You quietly slipped into his sleeping bag between Joel and the fireplace. You didn’t want to continue the conversation he started, didn’t want to hear what he had to say. You didn’t want to ruin this moment. You placed your backpack on the floor to use a pillow and slowly sank down, making yourself comfortable. You could hear the cracking of the fire and Joel’s steady breaths as you drifted off to sleep. The sleeping bag smells like dust, wood and Joel.

[aurorawest]

I haven't talked a ton about the querying process on here because, frankly, it's depressing and demoralizing, and it sounds like whining to anyone who doesn't have the experience of going through it. But as a treat I'm going to post about it today. So here's some context of what I've been doing for the past 6 months:

The rejections don't include those that I've gotten on full manuscript submissions, which at this point has been five or six.

Here's Strangers to Husbands, which I started querying a few weeks ago:

I don't post this to fish for sympathy or compliments or anything. I'm well aware that landing an agent has little to do with the quality of one's writing and almost everything to do with how marketable you, and your novel, are. I guess I just want to scream into the void that like, this is the backdrop against which I do everything. I write every night knowing that the future of my WIP is to be rejected over and over and over again. I post my fanfiction knowing I'll never be able to "convert" (blech) that to the "platform" (double blech) that a lot of agents want. I think about how energy-sapping it is to do my day job, to work on my WIP, and to edit my fic to post, and I wonder how on earth I could ever, ever self-publish, when what I'm doing feels like the bare minimum and is so draining. I can't even get people to beta my drafts, how the hell am I going to get people to buy them? What is this post even about? Idek. Publishing sucks. I desperately want to be in publishing.

[sapphic-aroace]

hi! i hope ur doing well ^^

so i know im aromantic (or on the spectrum somewhere) and acespec

ive never felt actual romantic feelings but i feel attraction like being attracted to someones looks (but pretty much only women/ fem presenting people)

idk if i actually feel romantic/sexual attraction, i atleast havent so far but im only interested in fem presenting people but idk if im attracted to them romantically?? i hope that makes sense lol

like, i want to be in a relationship but i dont think i actually experience love ://

and the only times ive been attracted to someone i feel like its just me telling myself i like them but i dont bc im friends with them (everytime ive been attracted to someone its lit just me being like 'this persons my friend and theyre cool, ig i have a crush on them now' but deep down i know i dont actually feel that way towards them, yk?)

but i rlly dont want to be completely aro (ik that sounds terrible sorryyyy) i want to be in a relationship and have someone love me and me to love them back! i want like a slow burn like bff to lovers thing but i dont think ill ever have that bc i might be completely aromantic

i guess i call myself sapphic aroace but idek if thats accurate ://

hello!

I'm doing rather well today, thank you for asking 😊

about for not wanting to be aro, know that many other aros feel the same. I know I used to. for a long time. it can be hard to realize you're aro, that you'll probably never feel or experience what society tells us about romantic love. that it's magical, the most important relationship in your life, that only a romantic partner can see all of you and love all of you, that it's the most intimate relationship you'll ever have, both physically and emotionally.

that is not true. this is a romanticized version of romantic love.

also, deep, meaningful and intimate relationships don't have to be romantic. I, for example, have a platonic relationship like this and it fulfills my emotional needs.

what I want to say is that your feelings are not unusual, you are ok. it *is* hard to get over amatonormativity.

I also think you should look into the cupioromantic label, I think it would resonate with you.

as for calling yourself sapphic aroace, only you can decide if the label suits you and if it would be useful for you. you do fit the definition if it's what you're worried about.

[remcycl333]

being in school kinda makes me double-minded i guess, because my desire involves not being in school and thinking about assignments and how i have school tomorrow, etc. is serving two masters, so i just have to make sure i get into the state of wish fulfilled more than the amount of time that i’m in the state of being a student? which might be a lot of the time, i think. i only have classes three days a week so it’s probably easier because of that but idk

doing stuff that's required of you in your 3d doesn't necessarily have to be you serving two masters! you can be physically doing one thing, and be in an entirely different state! for instance, if you're working out but you're in the state of hating your body/physical appearance and you're convinced it's not working, you might not see any results. or if you're doing skincare every day and you're still in the state of having bad skin, you might continue to break out.

what i do when i have to do something in my 3d that goes against what i'm manifesting is just act like i'm doing it for fun. for example, if you're doing schoolwork you can just be like "idek why im bothering to do my schoolwork when today is literally my last day of school lol." works like a charm for me personally! the feeling of knowing can also be you knowing that your 3d is going to change and that it isn't permanent.

but yes, as long as you go back to the state of the wish fulfilled (not being a student) more than you go to the state of lack (being a student), the state of the wish fulfilled will become your dwelling state and it will manifest!