#my mental state is spiralling again and i can't. do anything about it

[iholli]

Rat King occasionally just having the Worst Fucking Time mentally because she's "Rat Prime" and essentially binds all the Rats together and has to deal with everything that comes with it. is she the real one and why does she have to carry All That and she can't turn it off anymore and it's so much weight all the time and

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part thirty-one

summary: you were back in the capitol, and you would be damned if you didn't try your hardest to make it worthwhile.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.6k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: heyyyy ttpd has got me fucked up and ALSO guess who heard from her ex for the first time in years?? that's been so dope and not at all causing me to spiral over the last like week :) anyway missed this series so here.

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

"You didn't have to come." You whisper in the dark, the open window doing very little to illuminate the room without the help of the stars.

"Yes I did." Lennox answers you, matching your hushed tone. You roll onto your side so you're facing him, smiling slightly. Sejanus had given you both your own rooms, but rarely did a night go by where you didn't miss sharing that mattress on the floor with your brother back home.

"Did Sej have to convince Ma to let you come?"

"He didn't ask me to come." You feel the pillows shift as he shakes his head. "He told me what was goin' on, and I said I'd be on the next train and that was that." He pauses, chuckling to himself. "I appreciate you havin' your meltdown on the last day of the month, by the way. Was awful convenient for me."

"Yeah, me too." You giggle. "How was your Halloween?"

He shrugs, tucking his hands behind his head as he stares up at the ceiling. "It was alright. Same old."

"Did you do a costume this year?" You ask, already knowing he didn't. Apparently sixteen was too old for that- he was too "cool" for that now.

"Nah." He laughs. "You?"

"Yeah." You whisper, your smile dropping slightly. "I was Juliet, Tigris helped me make it."

"I'm sorry, but that means nothing to me." He chuckles, looking over at you.

"Well, it was an angel costume. We made the wings, and Coryo was supposed to be Romeo. We made his too. I was real proud of it, he was 'sposed to be a knight." You explain.

"But he didn't wear it?"

You just shake your head.

"Prick." Lennox mutters.

"He actually... ruined it on purpose." You whisper. "Poured red wine all down the front."

"Why the hell would he do that?" Lennox frowns. "I mean, I coulda' told you that guy was an asshole, but that's just cruel."

"It was my fault." You admit. "I didn't tell him that couples costumes were a thing until the day of. I didn't give him a choice, and I should have asked if he was okay with that."

"No... No, Y/N/N, don't do that." You feel him shake his head again, dragging a hand down over his face in frustration.

"Don't do what?"

"Blame yourself." He states. "You coulda' asked, sure, but I can't think of a problem he could possibly have with it. That's, you know, actually a valid reason."

"You know how they feel about us here, bug." You say softly, reaching out to push his hair back for him from where it had been pushed down on his forehead. "Sej has never really fit in, and he's been here ten years. I can't expect to walk in and have everything be perfect. Of course he's going to be a little embarrassed."

"But you can expect someone who's supposed to love you to be willing to prove it." Lennox says frustratedly. "You taught me that. So don't go changin' on me now."

"I would never." You smile slightly. "But... real life is different. Real love is different, I think."

"Real love shouldn't be embarrassing." He mumbles. "Not that I know a thing about it, but I think he's an idiot. I mean, I'd wear a matching costume with you tomorrow if you asked. I'd do anything for you."

"I know you would." You smile sadly. There are a few beats of silence between you while you remember all the signs you missed. Coryo telling you the school was strict about physical contact, causing you to turn a blind eye to other students kissing or holding hands in the halls and him hugging Clemensia that very same day. Him telling you to give him space when your only crime was standing too close. The only times he would hold your hand in public being in the backseat of their car or under a desk or table, hidden from view.

"He's lucky to have ya. Hell, we all are." Lennox says after a moment. "If any of these stuck-ups had any humanity they would treat you just the same. I'm not here to convince you to come home, but I think you're better off with us. That's all. At least at home, you're treated normal."

"But I'm not." You reply. "Not anymore. I might as well take this chance to get an education, so I can get a good job and go home and provide for you guys. Dad could retire instead of workin' himself to death in those mines, and Ma would never have to patch another pair of coveralls for as long as she should live. You could do whatever you wanted, bug. You could go to school too if that's what you decide. I could buy you a house, a bike, anything you want in the world."

"That's great and all, but I don't give a shit about that stuff anymore." Lennox tells you honestly. "As long as you're... alive, I guess, we're happy just the way things were. We talked about it a lot. That we'd give anything just to have you back."

A smile twitches on your lips. "I get it." You agree quietly. "But if I can get something for all of us out of having to go through... all of that, I'm gonna take it. Then we can all be together and all the better for it."

"For how long? Until one of us gets hitched and has kids, and then in twenty years we're sending them back here to go through the same shit you did?" He argues. "It's all for nothing. We just gotta make the time for each other while we can."

You chew on your lip, sick at the mere mention of your kids possibly getting picked. Or, god forbid Lennox getting picked in the last three years his name is entered in the reaping, and the number of entries increasing with every passing year. "I suppose." You agree. "But, can you keep a secret?"

He smiles at the familiarity as he looks over at you. "You know I can."

"Coryo is gonna be the next president. I'm sure of it." You whisper. "He's sure of it, too, it's all he's been raised for."

"Forgive me for not feeling reassured by that fact."

"No, but you should." You insist. "He's... He's a good man. He knows how to do the right thing, and I'm sure he'll call off the games one day. He has to."

You can hear your brother's sharp intake of breath. "If he's got you, he will." He mumbles in realization and you nod slightly.

"I think I'll be able to help. To actually do something good if I stick with him." You whisper.

"That's... a lot of pressure." Lennox agrees. As of right now, Coriolanus Snow is far from in his good books. 'If he was, I'd burn my library.' He recalls you laughing over the line in the book, recounting it to him just a couple of months prior. He wants to see you like that again. Happy. Yourself. But if you have to throw that away to save a future of who knows how many children, would that even be worth it to him? He feels guilty for thinking that it wouldn't.

"I love him, Len. I do." You assure him, somehow seeming to track his thought process. "I just don't know... If he truly feels the same way about me. I thought he did, when we were back home. When he came to Twelve, he was different than he is here."

"That's not fair." He replies quietly, deciding that now would certainly not be the time to bring up the fact that if you did end up marrying the future President of Panem, that would mean there would be no "coming home" for you. This, here, a city that tore you apart and left him to try and pick up the pieces, would be your home. He knows that as much as you love him and your parents, you're too noble to give up the chance to spare his children from your fate. He wants to hate you for it, but he never could. "That you have to defend him at all, I mean. You deserve to be angry sometimes, Y/N/N."

"It's fair." You smile slightly. "I just... I was so sure he was the one for me. You know? He cared about me when no one else did, he risked so much for me. You can hate him all you want, but that doesn't change the fact that he saved my life."

"That doesn't mean you owe him your love."

"I know that." You whisper, lips pursed in thought as you pause to figure out what you want to say. "But I think I would love him anyway. More than anything, I feel bad that I put him in this position."

Lennox shakes his head abruptly. "You didn't do anything. He made this decision, that apparently he wants you here, so he shouldn't be "embarrassed" of you, or whatever. Not at all."

"I don't know what to do, bug." You admit quietly. "I don't want to leave him. I don't want him to leave me behind now that the Games are over and done. I feel like for a while it was like... like I was a shiny new toy. And now I'm not clean and fun anymore."

"You really love him?" He asks, and you nod. He sighs, rubbing his eyes. "Then I can't believe I'm sayin' this, but you've gotta talk to him."

You open your mouth to speak, a small smile forming on your lips at his acceptance despite your nervousness about seeing Coryo again. "But don't let him off the hook yet, just let him plead his case." Lennox adds.

"I have to, bug."

"You're too forgiving." He replies, understanding but still disappointed. "I don't want to see you hurt."

"If I couldn't forgive, I would be ruined."

Coriolanus doesn't know what to do other than to go and get you before school come Monday morning. He hadn't heard from you, but Tigris insisted that you just needed your space. So he left a little early, the brisk air chilling him as he stepped outside the apartment building where their car was waiting.

He jumps nearly a foot in the air when he hears his name.

"Coriolanus Snow, fancy finding you here." He abruptly turns to look at the boy leaning up against the cement pillar only a few feet away.

The smug smile on your brother's face at his own joke is only mildly off-putting.

"Lennox. What are you doing here?" Coryo asks, clearing his throat and quickly readjusting the front of his coat. He knew your family- he knew he shouldn't be shocked that if you called, your brother would come running. Now he's just realizing that this didn't mean anything good for him.

Lennox shrugs as he steps away from the wall, a toothpick poking out from the corner of his mouth as he chews on it. "Sejanus called on Halloween. Said Y/N was having a tough time, and what kind of brother would I be if I didn't come to help?"

"That's very kind of you." Coryo states, eyeing him carefully. "So, you've been with her then?"

"Mhm." Lennox nods, smiling proudly as he not so subtly sizes up the boy in front of him. "Should we talk in the car? Wouldn't want you to be seen with me." He winks, flicking away the toothpick before brushing past your boyfriend to let himself into the backseat.

The blonde boy swallows, rolling his eyes before climbing in after him. "You going to school?" Lennox asks, already playing with the switches that roll up the windows and adjust the seats.

"I was going to pick up Y/N. She has class at the same time."

"Oh, she's already there. She got a ride with Sej this morning." Lennox states. "So don't worry, we wouldn't want her to be an inconvenience for you."

Coryo sighs, rubbing his head. "Listen, I don't know what they toldyou, but-"

"Oh, no. You're gonna listen to me now." Lennox cuts him off, suddenly serious as the car begins to move. "I don't know what you want from her. Not anymore. I had a pretty good idea when you showed up at our home unannounced, but clearly, that wasn't enough for you. So, correct me if I'm wrong, but you kidnapped her, right-"

"I didn't-"

"Yes, you did. As I was saying, you kidnapped her, but why?" Lennox shakes his head, eyes wide with genuine confusion. "If you don't want her, if you treat her like she's a burden to you, or that you're embarrassed of her, why would you bother? Was it just to break her again, because The Hunger Games didn't do a damn good enough job?" He hisses, fists clenched together like it was all he could do to not take a swing at him right now. "'My tribute gets touchy when she drinks'... Are you kidding me? You did this to her! All of it! I don't think it's too much of her to ask for you to care when you promised that you would!"

Coryo flinches a bit as his own words are thrown back at him, looking down at his lap in nothing more than shame as it fills him slowly from head to toe.

"It's not like that, Lennox. Not at all." Coryo settles on, shaking his head. "She is the furthest thing from a burden to me. I know it's hard for you to believe, but I want her to be happy. I want to help her."

Lennox looks down at his lap, the act of 'protective brother' crumbling to pieces over the back seat as tears brim at his eyes. "Then why would you take her away again?"

Coryo is shocked by this, eyes going wide as he stares at him. No longer was Lennox only your little brother who puffed his chest and rolled up his sleeves at every given opportunity to take a stab at your boyfriend, he was just a kid. A kid like you, who was completely torn apart by the games even though he had never set foot in the Capitol until the day before.

To Coryo, Lennox looked like he would have made a strong competitor in the same games; had his name been chosen. He was cocky, normally, and that was something that could be made into the spectacle that Dr. Gaul wanted. He would have no doubt done well. Coryo recalls you talking endlessly about your brother before the Games, and he remembered meeting him in Twelve and thinking that he was nothing like what he expected from the way you spoke about him. Gentle. Kind. Selfless.

From his limited interactions with the boy, Coryo only saw anger, distrust, selfishness. But knowing that he had to stand by back in District Twelve and wait for the news of his sister's death, maybe even watch it live, Coryo can now see that not only did it anger and scare him, but it traumatized him almost as much as it did you. The boy sitting next to him was nothing more than a kid who had lost his best friend. Who lost his sister.

"I..." Coryo stammers, waves of realization hitting him like he's run into a brick wall. "I had no choice." He says quietly to spare the driver's ears, and Lennox snaps his head back up to look at him.

Long gone was the sadness that told the story of who he had been while you were here fighting for your life a few months ago. Now, his eyes were ice cold, red from the tears that he didn't let fall.

"You're gonna have to explain before I tear every piece of that strangely white hair from your big head, Coryo."

Subconsciously, Coryo reaches up to make sure his hair is still styled the way he had just done it before he left as he swallows. "You know what happened to that peacekeeper?" He leans closer to say it so they won't be heard.

Lennox is scanning his face for any sign he could be lying. "And Billy Taupe?" He prompts him, the sad look flickering back in his eyes for only a moment. You had told Coryo about the relationship your family had with the Covey children, he hadn't even considered how your brother would handle the death of one of his closest friends without his big sister there to help. He lost you both in one night- that couldn't have been an easy pill to swallow, especially when he had only just got you back.

Coryo nodded slightly, looking up quickly to make sure one more time that the driver wasn't watching in the mirror.

"She was there." He explains it in as few words as possible. "And I knew if anyone found that out, if anyone saw her, the finger would be pointed her way."

"Did you kill them?" Lennox asks quietly.

Coryo shakes his head. "No, but I did hold one of the guns. She's the only reason I didn't. She wouldn't let me."

"Who did?"

"Spruce, I think his name is, but I shouldn't be telling you any of this."

Lennox gives him a solemn nod. "It's fine. I'm the one who hid the guns. Spruce brought them to the house and I ran everything out to the lake that night. Was sleepin' like a rock when Y/N/N came to pack all her stuff, I'd only been home for an hour or so." He explains, wiping a hand over his face as he remembers making that familiar hike in the dark. "They got Spruce, he was done the next day but I promise they'll never find any evidence connecting to you guys."

Coryo nods, internally sighing in relief.

"It's all secrets, now." Lennox adds, and Coryo knows what he means by that.

"What kind of secrets will she find at the bottom of the lake?" His own question is echoed back to him, but now he knows the answer.

"But if I knew it coulda connected you, maybe I would have left them somewhere more obvious."

Coryo doesn't expect the small smile that forms on your brother's lips. It was a threat, but first and foremost it was a joke.

"I'll be honest, I panicked." Coryo admits. "I couldn't just leave her there not knowing what would happen to her. I had to keep her safe, and bringing her back with us was the only way I knew how."

"I coulda protected her." Lennox insists, but the shake in his voice indicates that he knows that isn't necessarily true.

"I know." Coryo agrees anyway. "And I know it sounds like I'm lying to you but I mean it when I say I just want to help her. To give her a better future."

"Maybe," Lennox's jaw tenses and he slightly shakes his head. "But that doesn't mean you can treat her like she's nothin' to you. Especially if you actually care about her, which I am still skeptical of- for the record."

"I do." He assures your brother. "It's just... I don't expect you to understand but it is extremely complicated. There's a lot of pressure on me to keep the impression that our relationship is... professional."

"The hell you mean, 'professional?' She loves you. She loves you more than she should and you don't deserve that from her. Even if you saved her life, she doesn't owe you anything."

"I know." Coryo says again. "You're right. I won't deny that, but I need you to trust me when I say that everything I have to do, I'm doing it for her- so the Games didn't just chew her up and spit her out for nothing. She saved my life- and all I have to repay her with is my name. So I'm trying my hardest to do that."

Your brother is quiet for a moment. "Do you love her?"

"Yes," Coryo answers without a moment's hesitation. "More than I ever thought it was even possible to love another person, and I've known that since long before she ever set foot in that arena."

When Lennox doesn't reply, staring at him and trying to decide whether or not he believes it, he continues.

"I risked everything for her to win. I gave her that scarf, the rat poison, I even put something of hers into the snake tank so they wouldn't hurt her even if they caught her." He explains. "I was told before the reaping that if we cheated to help our tributes, we would have no shot at any kind of viable future but when it came down to it I didn't even consider another option because I could not live in a world without your sister."

Your brother's eyes soften as they find his again, a subtle nod indicating his understanding.

"She's... she's like a book whose pages I never tire of turning. I love her more than I could ever explain to you, Lennox. Please, even if you never trust me again, trust me right now." Coryo pleads. "I would never want to hurt her, and the fact that I have is killing me every moment she is not here."

Lennox straightens up, looking out the window as the university campus comes into their view. "I think she's the one who really needs to know that. Don't you?"

Coryo looks out the window, nodding in silent agreement and chewing on the inside of his cheek as the car comes to a stop for him to get out.

"By the way," Lennox says, that smug smile returning to his lips. "You spend too much time with my sister. 'She's like a book whose pages I never tire of turning'." He mocks his voice, using finger quotations to make his point and polishing it off with a scoff. "Never say anything like that again, Coryo. That's corny, even for Y/N."

Coryo laughs slightly. "Noted." He agrees, pushing the door open.

Armed with the information that you did still love him and maybe your brother wouldn't be hunting him down just yet for hurting you, he heads into the building looking forward to finding you for lunch.

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl ,  @dreamyysouls , @rockstarbfs , @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie ,  @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore , @cascadingbliss

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

[livesworthlivingau]

Lives Worth Living Chapter 29

ISAT/Two Hats spoilers below the break! CW: Mentions of Murder/Suicide, Mental Spiraling

Friendly reminder of the character perspective/voice brackets, as they may be needed for this chapter c:

Isabeau: |"Text"| Odile: ="Text"= Mirabelle: -"Text"- Bonnie: <"Text"> Nille: {"Text"}

(You can't tell when sleep gives way to the lightless void of your dream, but your awareness suddenly snaps to attention as you hear footsteps echoing behind you. You don't turn to look. Your heart begins to race and you shut your eye tight.)

"No... not now... please..." (You beg in a soft whisper. The footsteps stop close behind you. You can feel it just standing there... staring.)

"Not tonight... please just not tonight." (You can't handle this right now, you can't go through more of this blinding nightmare.)

{"But they killed you, Frin..."}

"... Adding Nille to the mix now, huh?..." (You think aloud, hearing her worried voice echoing around you. You keep your eye shut. It won't trick you this time.)

="No wonder they're so on edge."= (You roll your eye behind your eyelid. It's gonna have to try a lot harder than that...)

["If they don't accept me, you'd be okay looping back again, right? You wouldn't want to decide between me or them."] (You freeze for a moment, hearing Vale's desperate voice... You would, wouldn't you?... Without hesitation, if there was no other way... You would...)

<"BUT YOU CRABBING PROMISED!!!"> (You clench your fist, then slowly release it... it won't come to that, you won't let it.)

="Why would we let them near you again after what they did? We can't risk them hurting you again. Or worse."=

"... It's my choice to make." (You state in a stern voice, trying to keep your composure.)

-"Not when it affects us too! If they keep making you loop, how are we supposed to live our lives? How are we supposed to change?"-

"They're not going to! Now shut up and leave me alone!"

|"Sif... Is that fair to us? We agreed to help you, to stay with you... but you're making us deal with their problems too. That's a lot to dump on sometime."|

"... And what if they were me, huh? What then?"

="Oh, Siffrin..."= (You feel its hand placed on your shoulder, causing you to flinch.)

="One of you is the most anyone could take."= (You quickly pull away from it's grasp.)

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" (You shout, having turned to look at it before you realized what you were doing. You see your shadow in front of you once more. The sadness welling up within you. You can't look away as it opens it's mouth to let the other voices through.)

<"They hurt you, Frin! Don't you hate them?! I HATE THEM!!!">

"You don't understand! You don't know what they went through!!"

<"I DON'T CARE! I NEVER WANT TO SEE THEM AGAIN!! They hurt you, stupidfrin!! Shouldn't you hate them too?!">

"WELL WHY DON'T I HAVE A SAY IN THIS?! THEY HURT ME, AND I'M FINE! WHY DOES EVERYONE ELSE HAVE TO CARE FOR ME?!"

-"Y-You say that like it doesn't hurt us too! They killed you! That hurts us to think about, we don't want it to happen to you again!"-

="It's for your own good, Siffrin."=

"IT WON'T! THEY WON'T DO IT AGAIN! AND YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT'S BEST FOR ME!!"

{"What if they lashed out at someone else? Someone who wouldn't be fine?..."}

"SHUT UP! THEY WON'T! THEY WOULDN'T!!! THEY ONLY DID IT CAUSE THEY KNEW I'D LOOP! IT'S NOT THE SAME!!"

="Here's a philosophical conundrum for you, Siffrin. If you loop, and everything resets with you, then we can *all* be looped back. We're all valid targets by that logic."=

"... You don't know them like I do..."

|"Sif, if they're anything like you, we'll just get manipulated into liking them..."| (... Something in you snaps. You suddenly tackle into it, pinning your negative shaded self to the ground and wrapping your hands around its throat, trying to strangle the nonexistent life out of it. It's mouth remains open as voices continue to flow out, unimpeded.)

|"You'll both just keep looping until we have the perfect opinion of them and everything goes smoothly..."|

-"If we said no to keeping them around, you'd loop back. How does that give us any choice in the matter?"-

"I DON'T CARE!!!" (You scream, tightening your grip on its throat.)

"I DON'T CARE! I DON'T CARE! I-... I don't... I can't... I-I..." (Your grip slowly loosens, tears flowing down your face and onto its own.)

"I... I can't do this all again... I can't just live my whole life again... not without them..." (You feel its hand lightly placed on your own, still loosely around its throat.)

="Then you'll have to consider if you can live it all over again without us."= (You choke out a sob, pulling your hands away and hugging yourself tightly.)

"It's not fair... it's not fair! Why do I keep having to lose everyone and everything?! When will it stop?!"

["The universe leads, Stardust... We can only follow."]

"I'm so sick of following..." (You whimper out through your heavy sobbing.)

["You'll have to choose some day, Stardust. You'll have to be okay with that."]

(You stop responding, just crying as you hold yourself in that endless void.)

|"Sif... Hey Sif?... Sif!!"|

(You jolt awake as you feel a pair of large hands shake you lightly. You look around frantically only to find Isa holding you. You feel your face is soaked, you must have been crying in your sleep for real. He looks down at you, his face looked worried and... hesitant?)

"Isa? Wh... What's going on?"

"You were crying a lot in your sleep Sif... Are you okay?" (You glance drifts away from them and towards the ground... the look on your face likely answers the question better than words could.)

"Sif... We gotta talk. It's about Vale."

(No... please, no...)

So... surprise! @Tacticaly-Shrubbery helped with this one too, kept this one a secret from the server to really catch everyone off guard~ >:3c. As always thanks so much Shrub, this one hurt! A lot!

[samstclair]

Joel Miller's Survivor

Joel Miller X Reader

Anonymous Request

"Hey Sam! Hope you're still alive. You've been like ghost, and I'm getting worried about my request not being fulfilled, AND your health, of course or whatever! Yeah so can you get to it already? Joel X reader, simple. Can you make Y/N be like traveling with them or some shit? I don't know. But do your thing when you've crawled out of your hole!"

Word Count: long bro

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As you lied in your bed, rotting (you have not gotten up in the three hours you've been awake [so now it's almost 12 in the afternoon]), feeling like absolute dog shit for:

1. your empty tummy, 

2. not having showered in a week despite you paying your water bills, 

3. your internet running at the speed of a geriatric snail so no more fan-cam edits, ALSO despite paying your internet bills, 

3. just feeling like an overall ball of grease and oil that could, if necessary, fill a car's gas tank, 

4. not having gotten up in those three hours, 

and 5., perhaps most importantly, the world ending :(

you gazed out your window into the morning (afternoon, actually), light that peered through. It was scenic really, little puffs of dust, some asbestos tinkled in, gliding softly in the air. It hit you - this is not fun or fresh. This sucks dick, actually. 

You rose, stretching, a big big biiiiigggggg stretch, cracking every conceivable bone in your body, trying to avoid looking in the mirror that could potentially reveal your physically-troubled state. You didn't even have to look to know the condition your hair was in - actually let's not talk about the hair. You'll spiral. If we can't see it, it's not real :D

"Fleabag said it best. Hair IS everything," you thought to yourself, thinking about avoiding the mirror. "Oh my god I could SOOOOO binge Fleabag right now -"

But you knew that wasn't an available way to veg out. As mentioned before, your power, water, and internet were out. You supposed it came with the world ending and all. 

"Grrrjsdjaksdfnbdsjdskjjfs," your tummy said. You cradled it like a mother holding her child. 

"Mama needs to eat soon...", you thought wearily.

You rose and peered out the window - and it was the same old shit. Those cracked-out girlies were still on the prowl, being the biggest cockblocks you've ever encountered in your life for some good food. 

"But girl, we gotta eat! We have to soon," your brain said. "You can't keep this shit up! REAL calories and shit actually do matter!"

"But bitch how? Those fat asses on the street are gonna try to toss up with you again!" the other side of your brain said. 

"So what? You're gonna keep living off three-month old Halloween candy?? Those Twix's are tasting more like the processed chocolate that they are every DAY! Stop playing around and gaslighting yourself into thinking they're good, girl!" the other side argued back. "THINK about it. You bought those to sneak in to watching Dune in theaters. And not even the second Dune, the first. They're literally vintage." 

"What's stomach gotta say?" the other side shot back, quite angrily. 

"Grhjdkajdjsjdfoifdiosiojf," your stomach replied. You knew what that meant a little all too well - your stomach couldn't take it anymore. She wasn't even sentient enough to respond.

"FUCK!" you bursted aloud! So loud that the cracked-out girlies out on the street got startled and did a little jump! 

You absolutely HATED being hungry. If this experience had taught you anything, it's the appreciation of a good ass fucking meal. You were, after all, a self-proclaimed 'fat ass bitch'. So how were you gonna live up to that now? 

You began to reminisce about your favorite dishes, even though you knew it wasn't gonna be a good idea for your mental health. 

Bandeja paisa...

Pickles...

McDonald's cheeseburger with Big Mac sauce...plz McDonald's worker, don't forget the sauce........

Publix sub...

Mango chunks with tajin...

Provolone cheese and salami...

Korean corndogs...

A fat ass burrito...

Little Caesars breadsticks...

Auntie Anne's organic cinnamon rolls...

Vodka pasta...

Coconut chickpea curry...

...a bowl of assorted fruit but none of that honeydew cantaloupe bullshit...

"FUCK!" you yelled again. They also jumped! again. "How the FUCK did I go from drinking tiki cocktails on the beach to the WALKING FUCKING DEAD?!?!?!?!??!!!!! I DON'T EVEN HAVE A FUCKING RICK HERE PROVIDING FOR ME!!!"

You slammed yourself back on the bed, ready to cry - both from the acceptance that this was your new reality and slamming yourself a little too hard that you felt a spring bust up into your thoracic spine. You hated yourself for talking shit about that cantaloupe and honeydew. Yeah they're ass and should NOT have a place in a fruit bowl but that was real fucking food. Real SUSTENANCE!!! And what did you do? You fed it to the fucking seagulls on the beach and used it to pelt those fuck ass middle schoolers who wouldn't stop quoting Adin Ross, when you could have enjoyed it yourself. Had it been now, you would've Iron Clawed those birds and children for those two dookie ass fruits just for a taste of something REAL. Not moldy chocolate from a Costco bag that you snuck into Lynch's Dune. (Yeah girl, I'm not talking the Timothee one. I'm taking the Kyle MacLachlan one. I said they were vintage!)

How did we get here?

Well, we'll revisit this question later, cause right now you have come to one FINAL decision - food. You. Need. Food. 

"Fuck it bro," you told yourself, tears welling in your eyes as you climbed out of your bed and made your way downstairs to the exit. "If there's no fine-ass cowboy police officer with a big ass nose to do it for me, I guess mama gotta do it herself." 

You slipped on your old-reliable Crocs (the Lightening McQueen editions so you could go fast), then opened your back sliding glass door as to avoid the crackhead girlies on the street out front, the sun nearly blinding you solar-eclipse style. You felt like a hostage released from a hole after months of being, well, held hostage. 

"Is this what Saddam felt like?," you thought.

A wave of complete euphoria went over you as you heard the birds chirp, the wind fly by, the smell of green grass with a little hint of deteriorating carcasses - it felt GOOD to be outside. Though you have had some bouts of homebody phases, you were never not missing the great outdoors. Besides the mosquitoes and the balls-hot sun, and the occasional dead bodies. But, you reminded yourself, we have to make the BEST of these types of situations. 

You closed the glass door, quietly, cause those electric-chair looking victims had the most insane hearing, (making, admittedly, quite jealous since you're sure you lost a percentage of your own hearing prematurely after the introduction of AirPods.)

You then walked across your now overgrown garden, which under any other circumstances, could have passed off as a big whimsical fairy garden with the grass now being several feet tall, little ladybugs and shit nestled between. But now, shit made you feel like you were in a jungle back in 'Nam, circa 1970, pushing the foliage out of your face as you got across, bracing yourself for running into a spider web or a gnat smacking you in the face. 

Once you saw the backyard gate, you opened it quietly and peered out onto the street - it was quiet, ODDLY quiet, with not one of those cockblockers in sight. You knew better, however, looks can be deceiving. We all thought those Polly Pocket outfits looked pretty good, but the gastrologist telling your parents that their elementary-school child has a rubber dress lodged in one of their intestines actually isn't pretty good. 

You crept out, tiptoeing like a cartoon character or Drake sneaking past Travis Scott to whisper his verses on MELTDOWN, making sure to stay EXTRA vigilant of your surroundings. You needed to master the art of NOT disassociating, which basically meant undoing all your previous masterings of the craft. It was extremely difficult, but it was needed - slipping up LITERALLY means death here. On some for realizies shit. On some getting eaten out by and not in the good way shit. (That was disgusting I apologize - Sam)

As you crept down the street, passing down the backdrop to your average end-of-the-world surroundings with moldy houses and charred cars, you tried to remember the way to the Target. You were shit at directions and there was no Apple Maps to help you now. You just had to rely on your primal instincts of location - which, suffice to say, were usually not that good. But, when food's involved, you could track like a Neanderthal holding a spear hunting a fat ass mammoth with a posse of your fellow Neanderthal girls, you know, like, primal. 

You turned the corner, sure of where you were going and worried about your luck thus far. No zombie in sight oh shit never mind there's one across the other side of the street. 

It kept twitching in its tweaked state, continuously running into a fence since it was blind with that ugly ass toe fungus all up in its face. 

"Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit," you told yourself. Asshole clenching, toes squeezing downward, you calmed yourself down. It was the blind one so girl you're good! Just creep by quietly, ain't nothing to it! 

You took in a deep breath - tap in tap in tap in girl! Just walk on past! 

"Okay, okay," you told yourself. "Girl CHILL! Let's go okay, one, two, three - oh fuck I'm fucking shitting myself -" 

But then, it hit you - you literally had no reason to be scared. You literally lived in New York. You took those subways, you knew how to handle characters like that. 

Like a light switch normally does, you switched. You felt all that fear drain out of you, like the shit you took earlier - quick and easy (it was diarrhea, so, not really a good analogy metaphorically). You walked on down, even giving a friendly wave at the fungus girl. They're people too! You remembered to tell yourself, you CANNOT judge someone by their appearance! They're just going through it, I mean, after all, we've all been in that depressive episode/state before. Why hate when you can relate? Exactly!  In all honesty, your hair right now probably isn't making you look well-adjusted. We all have our bad days <3 Just don't look at them too long and you're good! 

As you passed by, it occurred to you - you have not been out in a MINUTE. All that hubbub and for what? You just had to wave and walk past. This brought a refreshing smile to your face, happy that you were grounded back to your reality. 

"Pharrell was right. Look at the birds," you told yourself as you strolled along by, "look at the bees."

Though there were no birds or bees in sight, and the possible thought crossing your mind that you hallucinated the birds' chirps earlier, you thought it best to live in this pretend state. It helps being fake happy sometimes, after all! More and more that carbon dioxide leak in your house was sounding less like a theory and more like a fact!

You continued on, now remembering the area - Target was only a block or two away. Just in and out and oh shit there's another depressed tweaker right in front a couple feet away from you. 

This time, it wasn't one of those fungus girls. It was the one who could see AND hear. Talk about double fucking whammy. And she clocked your ass, head swinging inhumanely fast to look you straight in the face. 

"DAMN BITCH! YOU UGLY AS FUCK?!" you thought to yourself, unfortunately your instant, innate reaction.

"Hey, girl!" you said, friendly, trying to maintain your mindset from earlier. You waved and walked past, she seemed so taken aback from your friendliness that you left her stunted. She just stayed behind and watched. And on you walked on blissfully. 

But you weren't walking for long when you heard the pitter patter of those steps RACING behind you. You whipped around. Again, you were shit at directions and feet and all, but you were PRETTY sure that you'd walked several feet farther away, so why was the ugly fungus-but-no-fungus girl HELLA close to you right now?

"What?" 

The girl stopped, now confronted. 

You waited for a response. 

Apparently, so did she.

Y'all just stood there, silent.

......

................

...............................

..........................................

"Girl, I said what?"

Nothing. 

You shrugged, rolling your eyes and turned back. But again, that pitter fucking patter. 

You whipped around, quicker. She stopped her running, caught again. 

"Bitch, chill. I know your ass is not chasing at me," you warned. 

Nothing. Again.

You turned back around, walking a little faster. "Flaka drug ass bitch," you said under your breath. 

Pitter. 

Patter.

You whipped around again so fast you gave yourself whiplash and vertigo at the same time. 

 She stopped. 

"Bitch," you said, annoyed. 

"Ahfsjjdshhuweuifw," she mumbled. 

"I'm sorry?" you asked, genuinely confused at her mumbling. 

She had a dumbfounded face, despite not having the greatest ability to make expressions (half her face looked like those Barbie dolls Shane Dawson used to incinerate back on old YouTube). You inspected her closer. She definitely needed some Accutane treatment, cause apparently everyone ALL gave up skincare this year. 

"Sadjksfjdksjc," she snarled again, "sdfhjdsf, sdfhuwjsjioisd?" 

"Girl, I don't know," you replied, sassy. "I don't know what the fuck you're saying, to be honest."

"Sjdklasjfoijdjdisjfids," she mumbled.  

"Girl, speak the fuck up!"

The zombie huffed. "SJDJDFSAFIDSD!!!!" She put her hands on her waist, annoyed too.

You felt bad. You genuinely had no idea what she was saying, and it didn't sound like it ended in anything you could just reply with a quick and safe, 'yeah' or 'thank you' to. You couldn't even fake laugh. Awkward. Awco fucking taco. 

You two just stood there, face to face. A little standoff, perhaps? 

This encounter reminded you of the first time you encountered one of these girlies. It was on your walk home after you left your White Lotus resort from your month long stay....

"Ghrskjdsksfs," the girlie said from behind. It made you jump.

"OH MY GOD!" you yelled, both out of fear of her popping out of nowhere and of course, her appearance. "Girl, I don't wanna be rude, but you look BUSTED as fuck!"

She didn't respond. You soon found out she took offense to that.

She began to follow and chase you all the way home and up to your doorstep. High key on some harassment shit. You had to barricade yourself in, cause girl was trying to hug you or something and you love being nice to strangers but didn't wanna contract bed bugs, so you pushed the bitch down the porch in time for you to lock that door. She fucked up your Ring camera too from banging on the door, so shit was personal. 

You did NOT want to get physical with this girl now, but if push comes to shove, LITERALLY, then it'll have to do. 

And that was your mindset from then on. Anyway, back to the Western standoff:

"Okay, girl, look just back the fuck up, okay?" you warned. "I'm being like - soooo serious right now." 

You turned back around and continued down, a little hurriedly and checking behind yourself a little more often, but that girl got the memo. For a few more blocks, she was out of sight. 

You hated being rude, but, that's what being a girl entails sometimes.

"Horror nights came a little early this year," you told yourself, shaking your head, "some people don't have any self-awareness at all. So sad." 

Finally making it, you saw the big ass red target signaling it was a Target up above, with some extra cute greenery and mold growing inside of it. You liked the whole post-apocalyptic aesthetic, actually, but we keep that to ourselves. Other people's disadvantages are not cute to make an aesthetic out of, after all.

Inside, shit was ran SACKED. Others had gotten there before, the shelves wiped clean (figuratively, cause the shelves were filthy). It gave you STRONG COVID flashbacks. But, you were not here for toilet paper, you were here for FOOD, remember? 

You went to the back, avoiding broken pieces of glass and other unidentifiable and possibly tetanus-infested objects, looking for the produce and dairy section. It smelled of dampness and poop. Not great. 

"While I'm here, I wonder if they have some tampons, maybe? Actually, maybe they have some ZYN?" you wondered. After all, no one was readily available to supply you with an Elf Bar, your original being LONG dead. A girl still needed to tell her nicotine craving to chill out. You weighed your options: 

Having reciting gums > not having ZYN

Hmm.

Yeah.

Options seemed to talk for themselves. 

Anyway, you kept searching for any remnants of a SEALED package of food, but, unfortunately, there was none. If there were, it was moldy to the house boots down and def not edible to most people. You rummaged through and through, over and over - nothing. 

You took a deep, shaky breath in, feeling those panicky tears coming in, your hunger more unbearable. 

"Dude it's that, it's that I'm about to lose my fucking mind, bro," you mumbled manically to yourself as you continued to rummage like a raccoon. This made you sympathize with them, those girls live hard lives. If you were RJ, you would've stolen that bear's food too.

You picked through the remaining bags, inspecting the see-through plastic while holding it like it was an object from Chernobyl - at the very tip with the most minimal amount of skin to package contact possible. You held them up to the light and god forgive you, gave them a little sniff. When you made that mistake once, you assured maybe it was best not to do it again, the mildew-rotting scent so horridly offensive to your nasal passage that it nearly catapulted you into the ether. 

You sat down, ready to welcome that panic attack breakdown, but soon shot yourself up after smacking your ass right into a cold septic puddle of rainwater (or so you hoped) dripping from the rotted ceiling. In just in your "I <3 ORLANDO" Spongebob-themed PJ shorts, you were never more sure that you just contracted yourself a yeast infection. And by the way you also caught a glimpse of your hair in the reflection of the puddle. 

And this was it. 

You broke. 

Your hair looked like Beetlejuice. 

You looked like Beetlejuice.

YOU LOOKED LIKE BEETLEJUICE?!?!?!?

"I'm losing my mind? I'm losing my mind. THIS IS SO FUCKED!" you exclaimed, oddly enough in the exact likeness of Shane Dawson's freakout in that one instagram live reacting to Tati Westbrook's YouTube video. (What's with Shane today?) "Oh my god? Oh my god?"

You were manic. This was it. This was it - 

But wait - you forgot the canned food section? 

A lone Chef Boyardee ravioli sat on the shelf, waiting, seemingly, just for you. She looked beautiful. Stunning. Heavenly. 

You feverishly snatched the fuck out of that can, and in such power popped the lid off wide open, the colors of that red tomato sauce and surfacing ravioli packets swimming delightedly. You did it. You tapped into your inner Neanderthal, strength and all.

You downed that shit all in one go, feeling its room temperature-ness sink from your throat down to your intestines, down past that lodged Polly Pocket dress, into the acidic pit of your belly. You felt all your stomach cells jump collectively with such joy, imagining the cheering sounding just like what Horton heard on that speck. 

You smiled so happily and genuine, with the exact likeness of Mark Weins. 

You moaned, quite audibly. It was delectable. 

You had to hit it, you NEEDED to hit it, just like Mark - 

"Mmm, woooowwAAAGAHAHAH - "

"- SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECHCCHCHCHHCHHC CRAASH BOOMMOMSMDF JSAFJSDSFHSJDHFJS - "

" - OH SHI -"

-You ragdolled onto the floor -

"- WHAT THE FU -"

-Fragments of cement bursted all around you -

"-BRO WHA-"

-You went blind-

And then, it was all silent.

Your moment of bliss completely evaporated, by a blue pick-up crashing into the Target, right into the produce and dairy section you were in seconds before, in another world...

Your ears rang, you were covered in dust, with the remaining red Chef Boyardee sauce all up on your face. 

The entire building SHOOK with more pebbles and asbestos from the roof dropped onto the floor, along with the rattling of the glass windows.

The sound of insane gunfire soon followed. 

You remained soldier-style onto the ground, like one taking it for the team by taking in all the impact of a land mind, belly to the ground. Though you couldn't see it what was happening, your soy face was NASTY. 

"Bro whaaatttt????" you whispered. "All this for toilet paper????" 

"TA-TATA-ATATATATATA," said the gunfire. "PPAPAPAATATATATTAAAA!!!!"

You crouched up, peering a little outside, to see a car on fire, along with more of that loud ass fucking gunfire and people ducking for cover. Shit was a real Call of Duty game. Shit was a real war zone. You were stupefied, stunned, SAT! Then, to the right -

"SCREEEECHCHCHHCHHCHCH BOOOF BOOOM PAPRATATATATA!!!!" More cars whipped around the corner outside, like for real Fast and Furious shit! 

"Uh," you thought to yourself, no longer wanting to watch like a noisy pedestrian, "uhhhhhh, yeah this ain't for me. A girl like me is NOT supposed to be here! This ain't my business! War is for boys <3"

You quickly made a go for the exit, only to find it blocked by some grown ass man and child. They quickly clocked you, safe to say, both parties knowing that seeing another person this close right now is not a great sign. 

The man pointed his gun to you as he stayed down with the girl, avoiding the incoming shots. 

"Wait, THEY'RE the ones being shot at?" you realized, "nah bro I'm good."

"Oh, don't mind me!" you quickly said in your sweet, customer service voice, "I'm just gonna, gonna go ahead and, yeah," you inched closer to the back door and saw yourself out to the alleyway behind the place, managing to casually dodge every incoming bullet at you by a hair. After shutting that shit behind you, you stood straighter, dusted some of the dust off, and thought it best to go on back home and pretend that nothing happened, as always.

You actually ended up knocking out NASTY in the alleyway. Like, unbeknownst to you, multiple of those fungus girls walked by you thinking you were already dead. 

You stirred, delirious and confused, like an old person snapping out of a moment's dementia. It was nearing sundown by now, with the sunset casting its glow on the desolate alley buildings. 

You rubbed your slept-swollen face after you cranked yourself up with shaky ass arms, genuinely trying to remember the events that brought you here in the first place. You were like a shell-shocked vet. 

"Bro...where the fuck....?" you looked around, trying to piece everything together - but you thought that might be too much work, so you opted to doing your own version of the Irish goodbye and leaving without addressing the previous events <3. 

"I get those frat boys. Last night really WAS a movie," you thought as you walked out of the alley, looking left and right trying to remember how the fuck you were gonna take your ass back now - like NOW cause nighttime is not the place to be around these girlies. You played Minecraft. You knew the vibe. They seemed to be more rabid and unpredictable, which safe to say, is NOT your fave combo. You could so fuck up a bag of Combo's right now.

You dusted more dirt from your SpongeBob shorts, and tried to fix your botched hair, but was briefly and heavily distracted by a dust particle getting into your eye - causing such emergency and panic. 

"Oh fuck oh fuck no get out get OUT!" you worried, trying to pry whatever foreign conspirator of a dust particle that was currently committing espionage in your eye socket, albeit looking quite disturbing doing so. 

After prying that bitch out, you wiped your face and to your fucking dismay, spotted red stains all up on your hands. Your heart fell to the empty distilled pits of your stomach, to the pits of your gooch - 

"IS THAT FUCKING BLOOD? OH MY GOD AM I FUCKING, LIKE, HURT?!" you freaked - you were quite literally wounded in battle. You took a sniff. "Oh, just tomato sauce. I'm so silly!" 

You smiled to yourself happily, slowly remembering that ravioli - the one highlight of this mess. Your tummy rumbled. 

"If only there was a cart full of foo - oh my god there's one right there," in front of you was a shopping cart that apparently spawned out of nowhere filled with goodies. Literally perfect!

You approached it, mesmerized by its contents - more canned ravioli, Dolly Parton's buttercream frosting, a tub of fresh watermelon, some bags of gummy worms, some bags of Wingstop wings (with fries and ranch!), tubs of water (of which you credited this random shopping cart being sent from some higher power because it wasn't Dasani or Zephryhill), Combo's and, perhaps most importantly, a jar of spear dill pickles. 

You could've cried. 

And you did. 

But you stopped after like ten seconds because remember it's nighttime a girl needs to GO!

You took that shopping cart and began walking down the scene where that Fast and Furious ass scene went down, now lifeless of any activity but bullet-riddled crashed cars, piles of broken cement, dead bodies, and random spouts of smoke. You felt like just a girl, walking down an average street in New York, living a single, nepo-fueled and quaint life. 

"If only I had my headphones," you thought, now saddened that your phone and sound-proof headphones had been long-dead. "I LITERALLY pay my fucking bills, like?" 

You continued walking, just a girl with her shopping cart, when you spotted a clearing in some forest area, which seemed very familiar to you. 

"Lowkey, I think this is a short-cut to my house?" you said to someone, apparently. (There's no one around you but that's never stopped you.)

You went down into the wood, like a girl with just her shopping cart going through a magical Studio-Ghibli-esque forest that sprouted between two demolished buildings into some portal into the spirit world. Though it was pretty difficult to push the lowkey-broken shopping cart on anything but flat flooring, causing you to have some bouts of intolerable anger so powerful it helped you yank the wheels stuck on uprooted roots, you thought, "hey, things could lowkey be worse? Like, let's just remember what Vanessa Hudgens said, 'Like, yeah, people are gonna die which is terrible but like...inevitable?' "

And people did die, BUT, you did have Wingstop fries, so. 

And now, it wasn't just a whole shopping cart of goodies that you would return home with, but some granola?!

A pile of perfectly placed granola sat pretty on the ground in front of you, with some berries and yogurt bits scattered in - just fucking delicious and any vegan mommy's dreams.

"Oh my god," your mouth salivating, inhumanely - a Kubrick stare fell over your face as you eyed the fuck out of that horse feed.

"I could lowkey fuck UP some granola," your stomach said, the only decipherable thing she's said in a loooooooong time. Long time.

When you clocked out of your gaze, you walked on over, ready to scoop up the entire pile, relishing in the self-fulfillment and satisfaction you imagined was what those Neanderthals felt way back when. This little hunting and gathering thing we got going on here? Ain't that hard. 

You stood over it, grabbing the pile that happened to be conveniently sitting on a plastic mat, attached with some strings that went places you didn't really give a fuck to know about. All that mattered, was that the stars were aligned for you tonight, the moon must've been in your favor. You didn't need a tarot reader to know that life, well, was good now. Life laugh love even through apocalypse <3

"Man, mama eaten GOOOOOOD tonight!" you bellowed, giggling, dancing slightly back and forth like the fat ass you are, "I wondered if the Neanderthals ever dabbled in a little grano - "

"Grhasjdhfsdsknfjs."

You froze. 

Ain't. No. Fucking. Way. 

You looked up slowly. 

"Biiiiitccchhhhhh," you said, in disbelief. 

"Grajsdhfsajdsk," she said, more sassier than ever. 

"No - NO! This is MINE!" you warned the same fungus girl from earlier. She stood, several feet away, creepily standing in the dark now that the sun was pretty much set. Let's just say, HELLA liminal spaces-core. HELLA ominous with it.

She didn't reply. Instead, she began creeping closer to you, looking at you up and down like an old man checking out a girl walking by who HAPPENS to be in a tank top. You loved your LGBTQ+, but girl needed to be a little smoother in her approach! 

"No. Back off NOW!" you shot back, now standing straighter. After some time out in this life, you learned it's best to approach these girls like you would a bear, if, ideally, you were able to keep yourself calm enough so much so you could think clearly - just stand straight and tall. Stand your GROUND stand your GRANOLA if you will. 

"I'm warning you, girl. No means no. I found it first, fair and fucking square." 

She kept coming, now closer than ever. She wasn't taking no for an answer. You almost gagged at her peeling face, icked the fuck out, but didn't wanna be THAT outwardly rude. She was looking you up and DOWN. (It admittedly boosted your ego up a little, like, were you lowkey hot right now?)

It was clear she wasn't backing down. Your bear tactic went down the toilet. 

She began running. 

Full. 

Speed. 

"Jesus, fine we can share, girl, okay?"

Let's just say, she meant business. Bitch was about to pimp-slap you across the face for that granola. 

"Bro it's that I said we could shaAAAAAAAAAAA - "

But itt was too quick. Too sudden. 

One moment you were about to post-up with the fungus tweaker and the next you were plummeted to the ground by an unseeable force, every ounce of wind pushed out from every crevice of your body, the granola popping into the air like confetti that became shrapnel against the fungus girl, lodging itself into her already fucked-up face.

You gasped for air, in complete shock, whatever force holding you down to the ground - you looked up to see what actual 200+ pound of muscle football fuck just tackled you. Is the granola like the football right now? Did you just touchdown or whatever right now? 

It was him - the same guy from earlier. 

You were too exasperated to speak, literally non-verbal. All he saw were your wide ass eyes, gaping open mouth begging for air like a fish out of water (fish don't breath air, little fun fact! :D) and Beetlejuice hairdo, some tomato sauce still crusted around your lips. 

He suddenly lifted himself up, whipped out a bat from his side and beat that fungus girl to DEATH. Like, BEAT. 

"Oh fffff - uckaaaa," you were able to muster, "there go my Chiro sessions -" 

You rose up, struggling, feeling physically and spiritually like a stomped-on roach, watching this man absolutely go ballistic on the girl. She wasn't even identifiable anymore, just a big mess of red gross goo and shit. 

The little girl from earlier stood closely, like you, just completely entranced with the very ugly and quite frankly inappropriate violence for a child like her to be witnessing. It was like the Reddit 50/50 challenge all over again. (P.S. so like if you look up what that challenge is DON'T press images like I absentmindedly just did literally right after typing that to see if it was still up - Sam <3).

After he was done wailing, he stood straight, caught his breath, bringing himself back to reality from that outburst. He wiped blood off his dome and looked to you, a face of both complete disappointment and disgust that only comes with a man 50 and up. 

Your short-tempered, therapist-diagnosed anger flew over you - physically raging like a boy who got his house blown up by a creeper in Minecraft. Again, what did we say about nighttime???

"You. Fucking. DICK!!!!" you spat, your control now completely lost, "DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH IT FUCKING COSTS FOR A CHIRO SESSION?! DON'T YOU KNOW THEY DON'T EVEN EXIST ANYMORE, APPARENTLY?!??! DO I LOOK LIKE TRAVIS KELCE?!?!? DO I LOOK LIKE A QUARTER POUNDER OR WHATEVER THE FUCK?!?! ARE YOU TRYING TO ROLE PLAY AS TAYLOR WHEN THE CHIEFS WON?! I AIN'T A FUCKING SWIFTIE LIKE THAT!!!!!!"

After your spewing, you took a deep breath. It felt pretty good, you even smiled. 

His face fell. 

"Are you fucking crazy?" he bellowed back, "Are you out of your mind?! What were you thinking?!"

"I was literally JUST sharing food. I had that handled. I was like, breaking - breaking bad. Like Jesus..?" you knew there was something wrong there. Now you felt embarrassed. "No, wait - that's bread. Whatever fuck it I FUCKED THAT UP! But I'm NOT meth head, I'm NOT LIKE HER!" you pointed at the now mass of flesh and fungi. Gross. 

"I just saved your fucking life," he now came in close, towering over you and pointing, intimidating and furious. His southern drawl was in full action. (Uh oh you found this hot little does he know). "That granola back there was a fucking deer trap!" 

"Well," you started, biting your tongue like a mom, "it seems you've trapped my 'deer' ol' hear -" 

The girl stepped forward before you could finish that not well-timed flirt. "Wait, aren't you from the supermarket? Earlier?" she asks, now laughing, "That was crazy!" 

"Ellie, don't." The man stepped back, guarding the girl from you. He was weary. "Who are you?"

"I'm me," you said, arms crossed, unplucked and overgrown eyebrows raised. "Who are you?"

"Joel....?" the girl named Ellie said, worriedly. He seemed to chill out a bit. He looked over to her with a face that read: Don't worry. I know this bimbo means no harm." 

During that moment, you really took the scene in - and that scene? This man in front of you with the hick ass name Joel. Joel? Well, 

"Why he kindaaaaaa," BOTH sides of your brain said. "No, no I can't. Not here and not again, like time and place," you thought to yourself, but unbeknownst to you you said aloud. Safe to say, they looked at you oddly.

But you couldn't control your thoughts or your emotions. They are, after all, your thoughts and emotions which are usually, like Vanessa said, inevitable? 

He was tall, burly, and graying - with such a masculine aura it was insane. The strong, silent types, as your ex-boyfriend/ex-sugar daddy, Tony Soprano, would've adored. His whole rugged look - dirt on the face, unkept hair and facial hair, tired eyes, somewhat smelly...

Then it hit you. 

Is this it? 

Is this him? 

Is this your RICK?????

You didn't realize it, but you were staring. Not in the Kubrick this-bitch-fucking-crazy way, but in the, this-bitch-out-of-it way. You shook yourself back to reality. If you were going to bag this man, you needed to act indifferent. 

A moment went by, no one spoke.

"Well.... y'all gonna eat this?" you asked, motioning to all the scattered granola.

They didn't reply.

"Okay slay!" You bent down to start picking up all the pieces. You weren't, after all, gonna let all that go to waste like these bozos would. 

You popped one in your mouth, chomping that stale piece. "Mmmm. Mhm. Yeah. Sprout's. Def." 

You continued to pick them up, the man named Joel now scoffing in disbelief of the situation. You perked up and turned to the Ellie girl. "Hey girlie, you want?" 

Ellie the girl happily grabbed some, chewing on it for what looked like the first time. You were confused, judging, but thought it best to not judge. 

"Ggrjsdfjsakjdfska."

All three of you stood straight, frozen. 

Another fungus bitch pulled up, arms out and perked up at the sight of y'all - his possible little buffet. He had on a Vineyard Vines t-shirt and a pair of Sperry's. In summation? Ugly. His face was also fucked up.

"Oh, my god," you said, over it, "what ever happened to finders fucking keepers? Y'all getting on my damn NERVES! Hold this girl," you passed the collected granola into Ellie's arms. Joel, getting prepped to probably curb stomp this once-private and probably racist schoolboy, soon stopped once he saw you step up to the ring. 

As mentioned before, you never liked to resort to violence, but there comes a time...

You grabbed that zombie by the hair, and began to wail on it with one punch after another, grabbing it's man-bun ponytail and slamming its body onto the ground, continuing to obliterate it's my-daddy-has-a-boat ass, completely disassociating with anger. 

Joel and Ellie watched in both horror and amazement at your abilities. 

"You fucking bitch back the FUCK off bro!" you muttered. The last time you fought with this same manner and vigor was in the school bathrooms over a juul. Those cookie-monster PJ pants girls taught you well. 

Once you landed him in an induced coma, you rose up, took in a deep breath and searched his Bermuda short's side pockets, feeling for the all familiar shape. And there she was. 

You pulled it out - there she was in all her beauty. 

"Speaking of!" you said, examining the blueberry fume. As mentioned, it was just like those bathroom fights. "Yes YES! I used to know a girl who FUCKED these up! I just KNEW he'd carry!" 

Just then, the rich boy moved. You clocked it, and kicked it on its side. It rose and quickly ran off, frightened, as you continued to yell some more obscenities. You hit the fume - shit was still kicking. 

You turned back. "Sorry guys, I'm just, I try to be patient with them, and I am, don't get me wrong. I know COVID has everyone acting, you know, off their shit but," you looked to the now deceased fungus tweaker. "Poor girl. She just wanted some granola bits." 

Joel furrowed his brows, very confused. "Why would you be 'patient' with them? They're infected!" 

"Hey! That's not a nice way to characterize victims of diseases - drugs are real, like don't you know about fenty? And I'm not even talking about Rihan -"

"They're runners! They're not human!"

You turned back to the limping 'runner', now confused too. 

"Runners?" you asked, turning back. 

Joel nodded. "Yeah. Infected. Undead." 

"You mean, like, zombies?"

Joel took a minute, seemingly embarrassed that he hadn't thought of something so obvious as that sooner. 

"You know," you shrugged, tired, blowing out an obnoxious cloud of smoke from the fume, a cloud, if you will, "they're just going through it." 

Ellie looked to Joel, unsure of what to make of your comments. 

It was now nighttime, and after massively failing to locate or find your way back home, Joel, out of pity that you were a bit of a bimbo, allowed you to stay with them for one night. 

You all were camped (ew I know) in the middle of a forest, it was pitch black outside all except for the small fire in front of you all where Joel had baked beans cooking. Apparently, your perfect shopping cart with the goodies vaporized into the air, because it was nowhere in sight after the whole shabackle and hubbub. Joel suggested in a, what you swore was, passive-aggressive way, that you were so starved you began hallucinating it. You knew that was most probably the case but would've rather eat a fungus off one of those 'runners' or whatever's faces than admit that. And you would've, again, rather eat that toe fungus than mentioned your probable house's carbon dioxide leakage.

Anyway, back to the scene - Ellie is knocked out in her sleeping bag, leaving you and Joel to sit across from each other in a pretty awkward silence as you ate those gross ass beans. There were some moments you caught yourself about to complain about them and claim they tasted like 'dick', but thought it best not to. But, you needed to say something about this, you couldn't just hold it in. 

"How's the beans?" Joel asked, quietly and moodily as usual.

"Tbh," you said, the first thing spoken in like an hour, "...I just want, like, sushi, man."

His face fell a bit.

"But this isn't bad! Trust me!" you quickly tried saving yourself, feeling very quite bad, "look, I've had beans in England. Some say the bean capital of the world, there's literally a dude from there named Mr. Bean. And this is so much better."

He was too confused to reply.

You felt a fly buzz by your ear - one of your number one hated sensories to be crossed - and smacked it. You HATED the outdoors too, as much as you hated these beans. It reminded you of when you had exited your home after months being inside and how quickly that 'touching-grass' shit got old. 

But still, no complaining. 

You glanced over at him, and you couldn't help but think - man this dude looks familiar. Very familiar. You weren't sure if it's just cause you haven't seen another person in some time, or in this case, another man in so long that your brain basically said: "man = every other man" and that's the reason you thought he looked 'familiar'. But, no, no - you'd SEEN this man before. Did you have a dream about him? No, that was Rick. Actually, now that you thought about it, he lowkey looked like some of your ex's? 

"What's your name?" you asked, trying to break the awkward silence. You knew, but had forgotten. 

He hesitated, his grumpy ass chewing on those beans. "Joel. Joel Miller." 

"Oh my god, you're real?" And that was it - THAT'S why he looked familiar! "I literally wrote a fan fiction about you in class, and submitted that as my final! Everything really does come full circle when you think about it." You went back to eating your beans, waiting for him to respond, which he didn't really do a lot. You thought it best to move on. 

"Well, Joel. Can I tell you something?" 

He hesitated again, a little longer. "What?"

"So like, I've only been out here for like, a week? Or two? To be honest I don't remember. Could be a month, but like, what happened?"

"What do you mean what happened?" that southern drawl coming out more now that he was annoyed/mad that you'd even ask a question like that. 

You shrugged and looked around. "Like, all this?" you said, obviously. 

He let out a tired breath.

"Well, there were this fungu -"

Just as he was about to explain, you interrupted, unknowingly, going on more about your cluelessness. 

" - Like, one minute I'm in a resort, you know, the White Lotus one, sipping marg's on the beach, for like a month? My ex-boyfriend slash sugar daddy at the time, AND I only say ex cause he hasn't gotten back to me since all this shit happened so I just assumed he broke it off with me but whatever, that's not the point, Tony - Tony's his name - paid for my stay. It was great, I was living pretty, you know, lavishly? VERY lavishly, actually. I was tanning, being massaged, going through a whole cleanse, you know? No phone, no internet. I had a bunch of books recommendations from TikTok, but to be honest I didn't really read them cause the words just don't process, you know? You just need to bring it with you to make people THINK you read, you know? Anyway, I'm there, and who do I see? Fucking Jared Leto! Yeah, that creepy ass bitch! He had his whole cult there, like they're weird Jonestown retreat or whatever, and I wanted to join cause it looked fun but I knew I probably couldn't be married to him, you know, how all those cult leaders are. Anyway whatever, it was great. I was having a great time, Big Ange was even there and she left me her green glasses and I've been meaning to give them back to her - "

"- Where'd you say you were staying at again?"

"White Lotus? In Jersey?"

"There's a beach resort in Jersey?"

"No, I know what you mean. It's where Tony was from, but it's a faux beach. The beach? It's faux. Stops the smell of rotting 'whacked' bodies, you know, cause that's not very resort like?"

He nodded, he understood. 

"Yeah. Anyway," you said, annoyed he interrupted you, "I'm there, in my room, sleeping, and there's a knock at my door. I go and it's the lobby guy or whatever, he's like rushing me out telling me about how my stay is over cause there's a cold going around and I have to leave, like? I'm sorry, I paid - well Tony paid - for the whole month and a half? But what am I gonna do, you know? So I'm like fine fucking party poopers, and they kick me out, like a fucking cartoon, down the steps of the place and toss my luggage. At first I was mad, cause like, what's a little cold? And then I look outside where they kicked me out and the world is like, over? Everything ended? Over a fucking cold? Shit was like, demolished. And then they shut the door behind me leaving me to fend for myself, like I'm sorry? Do I look like Bear Grylls? Do I look like 'Survivor'? Like I got this shit handled? So whatever, I walked back home and let's just say: Culture. Shock. Insane. Like, whaaattttt? Covid was worse than I thought! Then I get home, my power's out, my water, everything. And shit was DIRTY! Like as if I'd been gone for twenty fucking years. I couldn't check Twitter or anything, it wasn't loading so I couldn't find out what the big deal was. Like, guys, can we talk about the political and economic state of the world right now? AND I had a blister on my toe from the walk! It sucked!" 

(Told you we'd revisit! Now, we're revisited!)

Once you were finished with your impromptu story time, Joel intently listening, he went onto explain after the whole lore of the political and economic state of the world right now, how it wasn't even political or economic, just a virus. Shit was crazy. Fungus, coffee beans and spinach, Fire fly people, rations, explosions, the whole deal. You were tapped in, realizing you didn't space out cause he was just so fine to look out you genuinely cared about what he had to say. And he said it. 

A sullenness came over him, and you hated to say - it was pretty hot. But time and place! It just occurred to you that he didn't seem like the type to open up, so him being vulnerable just made you think, wow, he's a human! And he's hot! 

After he finished, there was a sad silence in the air. 

"Man....covid really was worse than I thought," you replied. 

"Now do you get it? They're not real people or 'girlies'. They're infected," he said. "Do you have any experience with them? Besides the one you beat on and scared away today?"

"What makes you think I don't have any experience?" you replied, with a little flirtatious-sass in your voice. You knew you didn't have experience. 

"Cause no experienced person would have willingly beaten up an infected the way you did without fear of being scratched or bit. It was reckless and stupid what you did."

"Yeah but I fucked his ass up," you said, hyping yourself up in the process. "But lol you're kinda right. Nah, yeah the most experience I have with zombies is Black Ops. Those bitches give me the heeby JEEBIES!" 

"You think this Tony is still alive?"

"I don't know, actually," you said. "We got into a pretty bad argument before I left, that's why I left, you know, to the resort, for some space and a break between each other. So I doubt he'd call me back now." 

"What about?"

"He's like a big animal guy, you know? Whatever, his fucking horse died and I literally didn't know, no one told me. There was a candle lit at the vet when they were putting him down and I was like, as a joke, 'guys! It's lit right now!' and he was all like, 'what he fuck is wrong with you?'. He was annnnggrryyyyyyy. I didn't read the paper beside the candle saying to be quiet, that they were putting it down," you said, shrugging. "Really sad. She was a pretty horse, you know? Cunty." 

Joel nodded. This was all a very serious affair for him. It bummed you out, everything was so serious and sad out here. 

"So these zombies aren't girl's girls after all? They're like, anti-girlies?" you asked, mainly as a statement of fact you were coming to terms with rather than a question. 

"I guess so," he said. "Whatever the fuck that means," he also said, not as audible. That explosion earlier left you more partially deaf. 

He looked down and continued to fiddle and play with his beans with his fork, not taking much interest in his appetite anymore.  There was a moment of silence between you guys, more comfortable than before. You both felt the bond of this shared experience bring you guys together a bit, in this very moment. He didn't feel much of a stranger anymore, and neither did you to him. You felt, truly, he was a man who lost something too...

The solemness on him, again you hated to admit, you found very attractive. EXTREMELY attractive, actually. The last time you saw a relatively attractive man was months ago at the resort, and he was, unfortunately, (but not unfortunately for the gays) a gay man. RIP ARMAND <3. So safe to say, you were rabidly horndogging. He was the type of man that has a LOT of shit going on, but doesn't talk about it, but DOES look like it. 

But you knew how to handle this - it wasn't your first rodeo. 

"So are you, like, single, orrr...?" you asked, sheepishly, acting like you are so not trying to get at him right now. 

"Why do you ask?" he replied, somewhat guarded. 

"Well cause you got a daughter and all, like is there a wife orrr - ?"

" - She's not my daughter." 

"Damn. Okay. So you're like babysitting orrr?"

He thought for a moment. "Sure," he replied, cautiously. 

"Man, you're just triggering my daddy issues!" you joked but it horrendously didn't land, "just kidding!" You giggled, casually and nervously. What happened to time and place?

TIME JUMP!!!!!

Remember how I said Joel just let you stay with them for one night? Well now it's been like six months and you're halfway across the country, in another truck! Yay!

Despite him giving clear signs that you two were to part, (not wanting to outright DIRECTLY say so cause he didn't wanna be rude), it was clear you weren't able to those read social cues that well. (Actually, you did, you read them quite well, but wanted to pretend not to because he was now your Rick and you lowkey mentally imprinted on him on some Twilight shit). He eventually gave up all hope, pitying you in a way. The only positive he saw was how you did all the talking with Ellie, since his ass is basically mute.

You became a sort of bigger sister/cool aunt for her, which you ate the fuck up. You had to fill her in on EVERYTHING: the Dramageddon lore, the Challengers summer experience, Ariana Grande/Spongebob fiasco, Kendrick v. Drake beef, Jojo's Karma's a Bitch and how she's the first self-proclaimed lesbian to ever exist, Colleen Ballinger's ukulele apology, finding out about the Queen's death and Twitter, the Montgomery riverfront fight, and more that aren't too important to mention. You thought it best to fill her in on shit a girl her age would fuck up, like what kid cares about the political and economic state of the world right now? Anyway you two got along very well, she made you giggle and you made her giggle, the perfect vibe! Joel lowkey admired you for, (and found it hot), the way you were with her. What could you say? All those years in early childhood back in high school meant something after all! Not just D grades and getting caught with a cart in your backpack!

Speaking of Joel, he definitely wouldn't show it, but like I said, he began to like you a bit. Actually, fuck that middle school shit and 'liking' - he began to FALL for you! On some romantic period piece shit! And who wouldn't? Besides those moldy Spongebob shorts, crusty yet fast Lightening McQueen Crocs and Beetlejuice hair, you were a natural beauty! Girl you were bad asf!!!!

Now in another pick-up, y'all were moving cross cuntry. You had your feet out the window, letting them get that breeze as you watched the Microsoft Windows default wallpaper-esque landscape pass on by. Ellie was in the back reading her nerd ass comic books, while Joel drove, of course, in silence. You were literally his passenger princess. If only you had a phone and AUX, cause your Spotify roadtrip playlist would so hit right now.

But again, what's in Ohio?

All you knew, was that they needed to get to Ohio. What's in Ohio? Who the fuck knows. Logan Paul? London? Yes, there's a London in Ohio, you knew that all to well when you accidentally booked a flight there instead of the actual London in England high off a Benadryl pill. But you wouldn't mention that to Joel.

You weren't sure what the fuck was up with Ohio, all he said was that they needed to get there. You thought it best not to question too much, afraid of losing that passenger princess spot.

(hey! it's Sam and my dumbass just realized that it's Utah they're going to, not Ohio. Apparently they wanna meet up with the Mormons, not Prime's own, Logan Paul. Whatever same hick ass states anyway I'm not gonna change it so proceed!)

"I wish I had my phone or AUX right now," you said, sadly. "I have this Spotify roadtrip playlist that would sooooo hit right now."

He gave you a side eye, his normal response.

"What song would you play?" Ellie asked.

"Hmm, let me think," you said, now thinking. "Probably like, Lana's cover of 'Take Me Home, Country Roads'? You know, cause we're like on country roads right now."

Joel gave you another side eye. You peeped. This was a perfect prying moment!

"Do you know that song?" you asked Joel. Y'all barely spoke anything personal (actually, YOU spoke at lengths, without being asked, about your personal stuff, but not vice versa. He was a great listener, though).

"Yeah. I know it," he said, quietly. You knew there was more.

Just as you were about to say something, he interrupted.

"But I don't know who that 'Lana' is."

"Oh, Joel, you'd fuck UP Lana! She's like the bridge between girlies and middle-aged men, not for the same reasons but a bridge nonetheless!"

You all then began to talk about music, but it usually involved just you and Ellie pairing up to bully, in a friendly way, Joel. It was fun to make fun of him, in a friendly way. You got so much enjoyment out of bugging these grown ass men, cause their egos were so fragile. You also just kind of found it hot that you could do that, with Joel as NO exception.

As mentioned before, he was very quiet. And you're a talker. See the problem? You were waiting for the right moment, when after all this buildup and trust would, well, buildup into trust, enough for him to open up to you. And when that day comes, it won't be just his mouth opening up!

You also got pretty good at learning how to defend yourself against the zombie girlies. Not that you didn't know before, but now, with Joel's help, you were able to take down multiple at once. You ate that shit up, feeling like one of those hot Resident Evil characters. Joel was even impressed, which made you pretend more like it was 'no biggie' as you'd usually say. What you didn't say, of course, was how your asshole clenched from fear every time you saw one and how you ached all over from fighting! But why would you?! Appearances are lowkey everything!!

The skyline of the city finally came into view. Fuck if you knew which city it was, you lost track. Your stomach rumbled. You cradled it as if you were "so I'm thirty-four weeks today", softly and longingly. You needed to eat. The rumble was loud, causing Joel to look over.

"You okay?"

"Does it sound like it? I'm hungry," you said. "Where's my fume?" You began to pat yourself down for that appetite suppressant, having an addict's moment of panic that you may have lost it. You didn't, she just thought she'd be funny and slip between the cracks of the chair and armrest. You pulled that bitch out and envisioned it was a Five Guy's cheeseburger as you inhaled that faux blueberry chemical.

"Guys, what's this?" Ellie asked, reaching over to the front, pointing to a roll of sushi illustrated in her comic. You didn't know Batman had time to eat sushi, but,

"Oh, FUCK!" you bellowed. "Sorry, Ellie. Excuse my French. I could so eat that right now."

You then caught a glimpse of a rather large scar on her forearm. Shit looked crazy.

"Uh, Ellie," you said. "I don't wanna like, overstep or be rude, I know it's none of my business."

Joel and Ellie suddenly tensed up. At this moment, they both knew the mistake Ellie had just made. You didn't, of course, which was why they were concerned.

Ellie backed up softly, quickly covering up her scar. Joel shifted in his seat.

"Uh, yeah? What is it?" Ellie asked wearily.

"That scar," you said.

Ellie gulped. Joel tightened his grip on the wheel.

"You should slap some scar cream on that. Like, Mederma? Ever heard of it?"

"Mederma?" Ellie asked.

Joel let out a relieved breath. He raked his hand through his hair, self-soothingly. They were good. Thank god for your lack of social cues.

"It's, uh, a scar cream," Joel answered lowly.

"It helps, trust. Once, I was on a city bike in Miami Beach, fell right onto the concrete and ate shit. It was bad, but once that scar closed, I lathered that cream on, and that's it. Now I don't even remember where the scar is. The doctor said it was from memory loss after smacking my head on the ground, but I really think it was the Mederma. So yeah. Get some if you can," you said.

"Uh huh. Okay," Ellie said. She wasn't really listening, instead trying to relax herself from you almost finding out about what was really in Ohio (Utah). And you wanna know something? It's not Logan Paul (Mormons).

"Anyway, yeah that food? It's sushi. It's sooooo good. So good," you said, reminiscing about those rolls. "So good. So so sooooo good."

"What's sushi?"

"Anything you want it to be, honestly. But usually fish," you said.

You took a moment.

"FUCK!" you yelled again, the anger of craving sushi so animalistic, "Sorry, sorry. I just, I just really want sushi. I wish you could try it Ellie, I think you'd like it. Joel, do you like sushi?"

"Never had it."

"What?"

"I've never had it."

"How have you never had sushi?"

"I just haven't."

"Well, you should."

"I can't."

"Why not? You allergic to fish?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Cause we're in a goddamn apocalypse," he replied, this time quite irritated.

"Well, if you do, let me know. I want a piece," you said, a little sassy, looking back out the window.

He then turned to give you a hard look. It was a mix of anger and confusion, the usual.

"You know," he started, trying to think of the words, "you're weir -"

" - JOEL WATCH OUT!!!!!!!"

Joel shot his head straight forward, to see a zombie standing in the middle of the road.

BAMBOOMSD AHSDFJKASJDFKSJSKLDJFAS

He swerved, causing you're not-wearing-seatbelt-ass to slam into the passenger car door, then rag doll as you held on for dear life on the grab handles above as you flipped over and over and over and over and over and over from the sheer power and magnitude of that swerve.

BOOM CRASH BOOFS FJADSJJDASKDSAADS CRASH BOOM POPSJDKFJASFAS

"OH SHI -"

You looked like Jay Leno in that one video where the car repeatedly flips over and over, with Joel holding his arm out trying to keep you down (didn't work).

BOOM CRASH POWEBSDAJFJSAKDA BOOF BAM POWBOOMSADJF

It just kept going.

CRASHBOOM JSDHSIFHJSA CRASH SJDFLSAFDKL FLIPSD FASKJDFSSDOAFLIP SADJFKSAJFD

Kept going.

BOOM CRASHDJSAKDFJSALDJ FAS

Yo lowkey when this gonna stop?

BOOM CRASH BOOFS FJADSJJDASKDSAADS CRASH BOOM POPSJDKFJASFASSDJFSKAKDADAS.....

SJKDFASKLJDFS boom pop.....crash...

It finally stopped!

You groaned awake, feeling FUCKED up your shit was ROCKED.

"Get up! GET UP!" Joel yelled, already having been out the car with Ellie.

"Oh my god okay chill I literally just flipped?"

"It's a trap! They're raiders!"

"What -"

"TA-TATA-ATATATATATPPAPAPAATATATATTAAAA!!!!"

You rolled your eyes bro not again.

All three of you took cover behind the now dilapidated truck as the raiders shot from the other side of the road.

You weren't even scared now, just over it like? Likeeee???????

Joel started shooting back, and so did you and though your aim was pretty shit you managed to take out some of them. You found that not looking and just shooting overhead and all over the place was the best tactic! Let the bullet find its own way <3

"Oh my god, Joel, I got an idea!" you said.

"What?!" he bellowed, very busy with the whole gunfire and all.

"We should make a bomb!"

"How?!"

"Mazel tov cocktail?"

"You mean molotov?!"

"Why are you correcting me? We have to think fast not be correcting each other get your priorities straight Joel oh my god?! Am I the only one taking this seriously?!?!?"

You dropped that gun on the floor and began to craft the bomb with such efficiency and grace, you felt like a little brainiac. You thought this may have been how the Unabomber felt like if he actually succeeded. (Thank god he didn't though lol right?? btw fbi I'm not a terrorist sympathizer!!! - Sam)

Let's just say - the pressure was on! As you were crafting the bomb, shots continue to fly by overhead, blowing comically large holes in Beetlejuice-esque hair. Joel kept rushing you, which you didn't appreciate like no shit I'm trying to go fast? Why would I not be trying to go fast dumbass?

Once you finished, you lit the cloth's end and turned to Joel and threw it at him, "THINK FAST JOEL!"

He, petrified, grabbed it in midair and looked at you with a look of complete awe. And it wasn't the good kind. More a look of horror, actually. Offended horror.

"WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU THROW IT AT ME?!?!?!"

"UH, DOES IT LOOK LIKE I HAVE GOOD EYE-HAND COORDINATION?!?! YOU THROW IT!?!?!"

In disbelief, he threw the molotov on the other side of the car and took cover.

You all ducked, and you took out your Dollar Store sunnies to cover your eyes from, essentially, the war crime you've just committed.

Let's just say - Oppenheimer would've been jealous. It wasn't your first time making a molotov, but something was different in the air that day, because you pretty much made the equivalent of one atomic bomb in that little glass Jarritos bottle.

The light from the bomb was so bright, for a second's moment, everything seemed still and dead silent, muted almost, as the bright glare lit everything around you all - you all braced yourselves, readying for the sound - the boom.

And girl.

Did it boom.

"Boom," said the Jarritos bottle.

The bomb? Yeah, pretty big. The effectiveness? Yeah, pretty and literally groundbreaking. The sound? Yeah, deafening.

Shards of metal, glass, unidentifiable body parts, and other mumbo jumbo flew right past you all from behind the truck, as you all huddled together, still tense from the impact.

If it wasn't for the fact that, as previously mentioned, you were already lowkey deaf from AirPods, you'd definitely be a mute. The sound riveted through all y'all's ear drums, sprinkling in a little tinnitus behind.

You guys crept up to see the damage. You pretty much did more than enough, they all literally died. The coast was definitely clear and y'all were good to go!

You three then grabbed your bags and started to walk down the road into the city, all in a stunned silence. You weren't that stunned, really, (it wasn't your first time making bombs as you did notably do some freelance work for Escobar), but Ellie and Joel had the same look like that one pic of that thousand-yard-stare soldier.

Joel was also quite pissed off, he just had that grumpy ass face he always has, but more intense. You assumed it was cause of the whole shabackle, but couldn't understand why he didn't see a reason to smile right now like? We're literally walking alive! Yeah, walking instead of driving, but alive!

"Uh, what's with the long face girl?" you asked, trying to spread your happiness.

He didn't respond.

As you got closer to the city, your patience was running thinner. The big ass backpack you had on kept slipping cause one of the straps was fucked up, causing you to have to constantly shift it upwards. It was reallllyyyyy starting to tick you off. You felt like a middle schooler who hasn't learned it's cooler to just bring a folder and chewed up pencil to school. It was also heavy as fuck with a ton of random bullshit like Joel's Linda Ronstadt CD's and Ellie's nerd ass comic books. Look, you were all for physical media, but you were also all about setting the bag on fire and catapulting it Ancient Rome style for another raider's battle. You kept this to yourself until then, though, like mama's lil secret <3.

Now in the city, you guys took a shortcut through some random building. You weren't sure it was a smart shortcut, cause it's a random building, but you were too exhausted to really gaf and ask. Plus, Joel didn't seem in the mood. He never was.

You were all creeping through the abandoned, smelly, rotting, moldy hallways, finding out it used to be a dispensary, and thought you could find some, you know, good loot or whatever. So you mentioned to Joel and Ellie that'd you look around and split off. Joel knew you were going to look for any scraps of weed like a raccoon feign, (your blueberry vape died during the battle)

You turned a corner, into a room, then looked around carefully. The place seemed pretty empty, so your guard? Very down.

"Slippppppping I'm slippingggggg," said the bag.

"Oh. My. Fucking. God," you said through gritted teeth, feeling a rise of deep anger. You violently thrusted it back on your shoulder, sore from the weight as you turned a corner. "Fucking dumbass back pack -"

You then hit the wall, as you were too distracted and fixated on the bag.

"Oh fuck," you said, rubbing your head. You looked up.

"OH FUCK!"

It wasn't a wall, it was actually the fupa of a giant bloater. You stood, petrified, stunned - almost collapsing onto the ground from the fear that plummeted into you - you were Wendy Williams as the Statue of Liberty.

Then, it burped, just staring down at you.

"AY DIOS MIO!!!!"

Like a cartoon, you jumped in the air, turned the other way and hauled absolute ASS out of there.

"GUYS!!!! GUYS, WE GOT A FLOATER!!!!!!" you screamed, running and running, doing what you perhaps always seemed to do best.

It started to chase you, it's fee fi fo fum ass stomps echoing from behind. This was some temple run ass shit.

"Feee....Fi.....Fo.....Fummmm.....," the bloater's steps said.

You then felt that all too familiar feeling, down there. And not the good kind. You had to shit. That bloater? Yeah. Scared you so much it made your butthole say,

"I need to shit."

The anxiety of 1. a bloater, 2. your need to go shit, and 3. you not being able to locate neither Joel or Ellie, filled you with such dread. You really did now gaf.

"Feeeeee....Fiiiii.....Foooooo.....Fuuuuuummmm....."

"GUYS??!?! GUYS LIKE WHERE THE FUCK ARE Y'ALL?!?!? NO LIKE FOR REAL?!?!?!"

Every thought raced through your mind - did they die? Did they abandoned you? Or worse, did they stop somewhere to eat WITHOUT you????

"Feeeeeeeeeeee....Fiiiiiii.....Fooooooo.....Fuuuuuuuuuuummmm....."

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod," you rambled, holding one hand on your ass to keep the shit in and the other on that backpack strap.

"Slipping I'm slipping again!!!!" the bag said.

"OhmygodIHATETHISFUCKASSBACKPACK!!!!!" you screamed, then proceeded to grab it and yeet it full force at the bloater's fupa.

The power of your thrust was so monstrous it caused the bloater to fly mid-air backwards for several feet and land right through a glass window.

You didn't stop to check it out, now instead enjoying the free weight literally off your back and your faster paced running. Those Lightening McQueen Crocs were now in full force, in sports mode and ready to go. With every step, the sounds of tiny yet serious little engines squeaked out from below the heel.

You then spotted the pair, and to your relief they hadn't died, left you, or were eating. No, instead they were huddled in a corner, crouched down and holding their fingers to their mouth. It looked as though they were telling you to be quiet.

"Do you guys want me to be quiet?" you asked. At that moment, Joel's spirit died. He let his head fall in general disappointment.

Turns out, an entire group of clickers were in the room next door, overstimulated, triggered and ready to pounce, triggered from your maniacal distant screaming.

"Ohhh," you mouthed, nodding overtly your head in full understanding. You crept on over, now huddled with them.

"Where's your bag?" Ellie whispered.

"What bag?" you asked, then looking away as if disinterested. You thought the best way to explain the absence of the bag was to gaslight them into thinking there was no bag in the first place. "So what now?"

"Joel?" Ellie asked.

Joel thought for a moment. "We're going to walk across the room, quietly and slowly to the exit on the other side. No fighting, no shooting," he whispered.

"Okay lieutenant," you said, biting your tongue like a white mom. This was again your attempt at flirting but it didn't work. You really needed to better your timing.

You three began to creep down the hallway, and at first it was working great, up until two random stray clicker girls were hanging out at the exit doors.

You three stopped, Joel thought for a moment on how to handle this.

You couldn't stop. You still needed to shit, and you needed to shit now. You felt your asshole gaping for air, knowing that a fart was the last thing needed now. You held that shit in, but alas some things cannot be held in forever....

"Joel," you whispered in his ear, "I like, have to shit, bad. Like, emergency. Can we speed this up?"

He heard you and decided to ignore you.

He took out his gun, then turned to you both. "I'm gonna shoot, but then you two need to run through those doors. Don't stop and don't look back."

You two nodded.

He aimed, but at that moment, you had no control.

You couldn't hold her in anymore.

This was it.

You can't control nature's course.

You farted.

And he shoted.

But your fart was like a silencer? It worked? It was so subtle and swift, and its duration lasted long enough for two shots that the clickers took it as another one of their co-clickers farting.

The two fungi bitches dropped dead and nothing followed.

"Did you just fart?" Joel asked, breaking the silence.

"No, no - that was the bloater?" you turned behind, again using the gaslighting tactic. He looked behind, too, confused, and since you knew that bloater was probably busy reading comic books and listening to Linda Ronstadt some ways away, you thought it best to move on.

"So like we gonna go orrrr....?" you asked.

"We need to run," Joel said.

"Don't need to tell me twice!" you said before hightailing outta there, your Crocs doing wonders, and leaving them in the dust, (it was actually asbestos).

Running? Running was what you did best. It was so basic, so innate, there was really nothing to it. You always thought, had it not been for all these setbacks in your life, these side quests that just kept side questing you, you lowkey could've been a runner? Not the crackhead Flaka drug ones but, the other type of runner. But oh well c'est la vie.

You three made it out and ran for what seemed like miles and miles (it was across the street), before you stopped from the force of your imminent shit. Joel and Ellie ran past you, not waiting to save your ass, and climbed down some rubble. You tapped back in.

"Joel! JOEL!"

He turned to you, flustered and annoyed as the group of zombies echoed behind y'all like the sounds of minions.

"WHAT?!"

"I CAN'T CLIMB DOWN!"

"YES YOU CAN?!"

You looked down the rubble - you theoretically could, but didn't wanna make one wrong move and ledge your asshole open. Of course, though, you couldn't tell him that, boys aren't supposed to know that girls shit. So you hoped that maybe you acting as a girlie who needed a guy's unnecessary chivalry could so hit right now. He wasn't biting.

"WHAT?" he yelled, literally less than three feet below you.

It wasn't gonna work. The zombies incoherent ramblings grew louder and louder behind you. Looks like plan B - you needed to give him no choice.

He started to run back towards Ellie, before you stopped him.

"JOEL! CATCH MEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Like a baby who's dropped into the pool for the first time to 'learn how to swim' without any sense of physical agency or control, like a manic person running with their hands up and mouth agape, like a true damsel in distress, you hauled yourself off of that three-foot ledge, aiming for Joel's heroic yet un-consenting arms, all in a slo-mo.

Joel literally had no choice but to catch you, so he did, and your fat ass made him fall backwards onto the ground where it really fucked up his 50 year old, seniors discount breakfast-ass back.

"Oh fuck," you said, like a wounded grandma.

Joel groaned. You two looked at one another in the face, quite close, cause you were literally on top of him? Like omg this is so rom-com! Enemies to lover's type! Except you were always his enemy and you always thought he'd be your lover <3

Time stood still as you looked into one another's eyes. It was as if the whole world had stopped, and it was only you two - you inspected every wrinkle, gray hair, blackhead - he was beautiful.

"Uh, guys! We need to go?!" Ellie shouted.

"Oh shit I forgot -" you said and bounced right up, remembering your shit, and back to leaving.

You three were back to running, since it was not only your favorite activity but a common pastime in apocalyptic worlds. You were up ahead, again fueled by your natural instincts needing to shit, its adrenaline pumping through your veins as if you were the Flaka fungi people. It caused you to momentarily ponder - is the real reason why all these zombies are irritable is because they need to shit but can't, so they've been backed up for YEARS? A shiver went down your neck at just the thought.

You turned a corner between buildings, before stopping again in your tracks. A whole fucking HERD OF THEM BITCHES!!!!!!!!!!

You were frozen, petrified, stunned, silenced. Your face couldn't help but go into its natural fight or flight state - the soy face. And a mega one at that.

Joel stopped, looked at you frightened.

"What? What is it?!" he asked desperately.

But there was no time. Cause guess what? There's now bandits!!!

Then THEY started to chase you. Fuck the clickers. Fuck an iClicker!

You couldn't help but giggle. You couldn't help but be amused. Why are a bunch of bandits chasing a girl in SpongeBob shorts? Like they think you got the goods like that?! What's a girl with Spongebob shorts got? A probable yeast infection?

You didn't realize it, but your giggles were actually audible. You sounded like Pops from Regular Show.

"I'm just a girl, like whaaaaaa?" you giggled and shouted, running still. "Like, leave me alone what the fuck?!?!? This is crazy omg!!!"

Even Joel was confused, running beside you, thinking, 'why is this bitch giggling?'

Even the bandits took notice and got weirded out. So weirded out they actually stopped chasing y'all. You were treating an ambush like a frolicking sesh in the garden.

You supposed it was your brain trying to protect you, seeing that you were in actual danger of being killed. Maybe you genuinely couldn't believe it? Who knows. (I'm not a psychologist I'm sam st. Clair)

You all finally made it to a supermarket, where you boarded yourselves up once you scoped the place out. It was nighttime now, hella dark out and you couldn't guess shit where y'all were at. You just relied that Joel knew, it was your default since he's the self-proclaimed Rick of this little posse y'all got.

Anyway, you three split off, maybe because you all were tired of all the socializing you guys did back there. You didn't mind being alone, it gave you the opportunity to fart without anyone around to sniff or judge, or both. Speaking of farting, you took your shit the moment you slammed your ass on the toilet in the back, where the manager's office was. Shit was monstrous and you were sure you might've contracted some of the fungi since you were so determined to sit down that you didn't notice spores all up on the seat. But oh well. Your ass did start to itch, but you relied on your body to figure it out.

You got so bored you decided to walk up and down the smelly aisles, then found a pack of untouched, one of a kind, rare finds, vintage ZooPals. You remembered that Joel was making dinner, so thought these would be perfect!

You grabbed them fast, then went to present them to him. He was not so impressed.

"Joel, check it," you said, acting as if you were Christian Bale in American Psycho showing off your business card.

"That's extra weight," he said, dismissively and went back to cooking the beans.

"Are you kidding me?! This is some fine China right here," you protested. "Your boomer ass might be having a dementia episode or something not remembering the sheer value of what it is to eat off a ZooPal's plate."

His demeanor got sadder. You feared you might've crossed the line with the dementia comment.

"No," he mumbled solemnly. "They remind me of my daughter."

Your face dropped.

"Yikes. Sorry about that luv," (when you felt awkward you opted to go British). You then walked away. Best avoid that <3

That night you guys ate the beans and left in the morning, since Joel said apparently a supermarket isn't the best place to hide. You weren't sure why - if they carried ZooPal's, who know what else they could be hiding?

You kept walking down the street until you found a car that looked recently used. Joel tried starting it with the cables and shit whatever they do in the movies when they jumpstart a car. Red wire blue wire green fish two fish one fish blue fish.

"Can I drive?" you asked. You weren't sure what got into you, you literally don't have a license. Not that traffic violations mattered in these parts, but because you couldn't even tell left from right.

He gave you a look. "Fine."

"That was easy," you said.

As he began fixing it up, Ellie pointed to an object on the dashboard.

"What's that?" she asked.

You looked.

Oh no.

Not on my car.

"No. Not on my fucking car."

You grabbed that octopus stuffed animal dashboard bullshit, swung and threw that shit so far that it broke a nearby high-rise apartment window and exploded. It was a bomb and you inadvertently just saved everyone's life.

"How'd you know that was a bomb?" Joel asked, incredulously.

You knew the answer was that you didn't know it was a bomb, it was cause you actually hated nothing more on this earth than those octopus dashboard plushies, because every bad driver in a BMW happens to have one, so you thought you should go with the flow.

"I told you. I worked for Escobar. I can smell a bomb," you said.

"Wow. That's a crazy nose you have. It's like your superpower," Ellie said, geeking out.

"If it really was a superpower, I'd been able to stop Oppenheimer," you said.

She didn't get it.

Joel looked up, again, confused why you would say that in the first place.

"Sorry, it's before your time," you said, moving on quickly.

The car started and you three hopped in, ready to drive y'alls asses OUT OF HERE! You were excited, feeling that this was gonna be like a little roadtrip movie.

It was only two miles since you guys have driven and you had to contain your giddiness. Joel definitely wasn't happy and Ellie was to herself in the back reading her nerd ass comics. You just looked crazy laughing to yourself. You were just looking forward to the roadtrip vibes, FINALLY you guys found an actual working car so no more walking no more dilapidated backs no more annoying backpacks and oh shit there's a spider.

"OH SHIT THERE'S A SPIDER!!!" you freaked, seeing it dance slowly from the roof, hanging onto its web and literally three inches away from your face. You began to move yourself away, moving the steering wheel with it and thus moving the whole car off the road.

"Okay, calm down I got it -" Joel said.

"No Joel it's that I can't dude no Joel get it GET IT!" you demanded, feeling like an entity just possessed you with how deep and demented your voice got from the fear.

"Just keep the damn car still I can't grab it!"

He really couldn't, the more you turned the car, the more the spider swayed into your face, causing you to turn the car more and causing Joel to have trouble actually getting it. He was getting frustrated.

"Joel, we're gonna crash!" Ellie cried, trying to hide behind the seat.

The screaming and shouting also wasn't helping the vibe at all.

"I can't dude no Joel it's that I can't BRO FUCK! GET THAT BITCH!" you kept crying, "I'M NOT JOKING BRO!"

"KEEP DAMN STILL -"

Y'all crashed.

The random light post just HAPPENED to be in the way. Thankfully you guys weren't hurt, you just fucked up the car bad. And Joel was pissed. When he's mad, he's quiet. And he was QUIET.

"Well that was short," Ellie said as you three just stood looking at the demolished car. "So what now?"

The 'what now' was actually that you guys found a safe house literally less than a mile away. God finally gave y'all a little break!

It was down the road, in a little suburb. It seemed to have belonged to others, since it was all boarded up and defensed up and the only sign of life left in the house was a infected fungi girl strapped to a chair in the bedroom, placed in front of a tv screen playing a VHS tape of Friends.

You thought it best to put it out of its misery, so you turned off the tv.

You patted her on the back, caring and lovingly as she snarled at you, "No one deserves to be forced to sit and watch Friends, not even in the apocalypse."

You closed the door, leaving her at peace and again, out of her her torture.

Time passed. Joel was about to start cooking beans and Ellie left to go take a much needed power nap in the guest bedroom. You offered Joel to rest and that you'd cook instead. Little did he know how much of an exclusive this was with you, bitch you didn't cook. But you felt pretty bad for the whole spider thing and thought, hey, what's a little cooking? What's a little meal prep?

Joel said his very weary 'thanks' and went to rest on the couch, while you went into the kitchen. He looked genuinely happy to see you take the responsibility. And you were genuinely happy in other places too at the idea of you cooking for him <3 and Ellie ofc. And yourself, who could forget your fat ass?

Time passed, maybe a little too long of a time to make beans, when you had finally finished. Though you were pretty sure all the garnishes left in the kitchen were expired and no, those are not flakes of oregano but flakes of mold, they actually came out pretty good. You prepped three beautiful plates, on the fine China (ZooPal's, Ellie got the duck plate, Joel the ladybug, and you the frog), and went to push the kitchen door to present your dish as if you were battling Bobby Flay on that one kitchen show with the other woman with white hair that looks like she'd be one of the emotions from Inside Out.

"Dinner's ready! -" you said cheerily, until you realized - it wasn't just Joel who would see your dish. Not Ellie. Not even Bobby Flay - it was the raiders. Again. They were all up in your living room, def crossing the maximum capacity. They just couldn't seem to get enough of you and you didn't want to come off as narcissistic but guessed your personality had to be addictive.

You all took a minute, assessing the situation. Actually, you ALL took that minute. You just stood there, plates filled with beans, and they stood there, guns filled with bullets, with Joel and Ellie on their knees with their wrists tied behind their backs.

The silence kept going.

You just stood there.

"Wait, so -," your bimbo ass said, very Trisha-esque, not even able to come to form a conclusion. You were just so confused. "Wait -"

And there it is again.

Someone tackled you. AGAIN.

Not only did your body go flying underneath the massive weight that just sumo slammed itself into you, but so did the beans. The beans? Yeah, they were airborne. The ZooPal plates? In flight.

The mass was actually a man who was attempting to zip tie your wrists now that he had you pinned down. However, he underestimated your irritability when you were hungry.

Mama's hungry.....and mama wants her beans.....and what mama wants...........mama GETS.........

You had just about had enough.

You threw him off with such strength that could only come with a girl's rage. A rage so deep, so visceral and seemingly uncontrollable, one that could set you back on all the self-help and patience exercises that you've practiced. No. That's it. She's gonna pop, and just like the shit from earlier - some things just cannot be held in forever.

You rose up, looking briefly over at the man who's back slammed against the window, where he then tumbled and tumbled to who knows what fate, but a fate just the same as that bloater earlier.

The raiders were too aghast at your abilities.

"I just, I can't," you started, panicky. "I can't hold it in anymore."

You almost started crying from the mania. You looked very unstable, cause you were.

You took a deep breath, but knew one thing - you've been holding this anger, this wrath in for so long, now it's time for her to be released.

One of the raiders caught on and began to back up. His buddies followed, scared, almost like watching a Jack in the box as a grown adult, but that childlike fear still imprinted in your innermost being.

"Hey listen, we'll just get out of -"

" - do you KNOW HOW FUCKING HARD IT IS TO FIND ANY FOOD OUT HERE WITH NO FUCKING MOLD ON IT?! YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO COOK ROOM TEMPERATURE FUCKING BEANS ON A DINGY LAPTOP RUNNING ON SIMS 3?! IT TAKES A LONG FUCKING TIME!!!! DO YOU KNOW HOW HUNGRY I'VE BEEN?!?!?! I'M THREE DAYS LATE ON MY FUCKING PERIOD AND I'VE BEEN FEIGNING FOR SOME FUCKING BEANS!!!! BEANS, BITCH!!!! DO YOU KNOW HOW DESPERATE I'VE GOTTA BE FOR FOOD TO WANT BEANS?!?! I'M CRAVING ROOM TEMPERATURE BEANS LIKE A SOLDIER IN THE CIVIL FUCKING WAR!!!!! - (you lost them) - DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT THE FUCK THAT IS?!??! THAT'S LIKE, ONE OF THE BIG DEAL WARS!?!??! WHATEVER AND NOW MY BEANS ARE ON THE GROUND LIKE DO I LOOK LIKE TRAVIS KELCE?! DO I LOOK LIKE A BITCH TO BE TACKLED ONTO THE FUCKING GROUND??!?!! DO I HAVE A SIGN ON ME THAT SAYS I'M A QUARTER BACK?!?! NO BITCH I WANT A QUARTER POUNDER!!!! AND NOW LOOK!!! 'UH, GUYS, WE HAVE COMPANY!!!!!'"

After your spew that gave you the same catharsis akin to rapping a Nicki Minaj verse word for word, they put their hands up in surrender and backed on out, suddenly becoming overly-friendly while you followed them out to the porch. You had the same aura as a a 'get off my property or I'll shoot' type.

"Sorry for disturbing you, ma'am."

"Have a nice day, Ms., sorry about that."

"Lovely house and beans."

"Have a good day."

"Bye bye now."

"THANK YOU, YES!! FUCKING LEAVE!!!! RED-COAT, QUARTERING ASS FUGLY ASS BITCHES!! OR Y'ALL DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT IS EITHER?!?! GO FIND A BOOK ON WARS THAT DON'T INVOLVE TOILET PAPER AND LEARN ABOUT THE IMPORTANCE OF BEANS YOU FUCKING SKID MARKS!!!!"

"Great plates."

"I like what you did with your hair, ma'am. Very unique."

"AND STAY OUT!!!!!! THIS IS MY OWN PRIVATE DOMICILE AND I WILL NOT BE HARASSED!!!!!!"

You turned back around into the house, overhearing one of their conversations as they got farther and farther (not only are you partially deaf, but you have super-hearing).

"I think that's the same girl from earlier, with the weird giggles from earlier?"

"Really?"

"Yeah. The Spongebob shorts, remember?"

"Oh, fuck. You're right."

You couldn't help but not smile hard. You like, lowkey did that? No violence or anything. MLK was lowkey right.

But that smile soon fell once you got back into the house, remembering what literally just happened. Seeing your hard work splattered all over the floor was like seeing your own world end. By then, Joel was already untied and had just finished Ellie's.

"That was INSANE!" Ellie said, excitedly. "Did you see their faces?! That was so sick!"

"Thanks, Ellie. I'm lowkey gonna cry now, so those words of positive affirmation do help."

"Wait, don't," Joel said, oddly caring.

"Of course I'm gonna cry! I'M FUCKING HUNGRY oh my god what's that?"

Joel had reached into his bag, pulling out three very familiar containers.

"I'd, uh, hope we could be eatin' this, too," he said sheepishly, as he revealed they were perfect condition, ready-to-eat, beautifully displayed fat rolls of sushi.

You at the very moment became a belieber in spontaneous combustion, because you'd never been so hot so quick, it was just too hot. Joel was too hot. Sushi was too hot too, and he got you sushi?! That's like double the hot! This is Hot Ones DA BOMB!!

"Oh my god, Joel - you didn't," you held your hands to your face, in such happiness and surprise. It looked as if Joel had just proposed to you and the ring was a singular spicy tuna roll.

Joel smiled softly, a rarity around these parts. You found that glimpse of another side of him so interesting, intriguing - attractive. You always knew he was hot, and knew you wouldn't say no to your bestowed Rick, but DAMN like Kendrick's 2017 hit-album he was fine as FUCK right now.

"Contain it girl, contain it," the voices told yourself.

"How'd you get this?!" you asked, taking it as he reached them out for you. You inspected them, you weren't sure if it was because you were hallucinating from the hunger, but they looked exactly like Studio Ghibli food, your fat ass was about to feast. You felt the salivation like those rabies victims outside.

"I'm a smuggler. It's my job," he said, which you swore was flirting-ly but unfortunately didn't have any of your girls around to tell this too and get their opinion :( so you decided to live with your delusion that it was!

You wanted to kiss him so bad for that, you could've cried. And you did.

You three sat around the campfire, eating, talking, laughing, all good vibes. Ellie had finally tried sushi for the first time and loved it, as you went on to explain the days of the Barbenheimer summer. (You thought she needed to dip her toes into Oppenheimer lore somehow already.)

"Hey, sorry you guys had to see me like that," you said, finishing your roll. "I just get like, really annoyed when people stop me from eating food when I'm hungry. Like, that's me time, you know? It's personal."

"What are you talking about?! That was so good! They were shitting their pants!" asked Ellie.

"Lol me," you spat. You hoped they didn't catch that.

"You - you really scared them off there," mustered Joel, impressed.

"Thanks," you said, taking whatever compliment that man could give to heart.

"If only we had you during our shootout, back at the Target," Joel said. "I thought you were a runner, first time I saw you."

"Why's that?"

"You had all that," he motioned to his face, "red stuff, all on your mouth and chin. Thought it was blood."

"Oh, that was Chef Boyardee! You know him?"

Did he know him.

Did he know him?

Girl he was a single father once of course he knew him.

And what else did he know?

He knew he was in love with you, in love with Y/N...

"I, uh, love -"

"- Joel loves Chef Boyardee. He got all excited when he found a can, once," Ellie said, interrupting him.

"Because that's what the Chef intended with his creation," you said, not really one hundred percent sure what that meant. And neither did Joel or Ellie. Anyway,

Time passed, you guys cleaned up and Ellie had gone to sleep.

You and Joel were sat on the swinging bench on the porch outside, passing your blueberry fume back and forth like a blunt (it actually wasn't dead, contrary to popular belief). He wasn't really a fan, but didn't want to tell you no.

You'd been out for some time, enjoying the warm (lowkey hot) breeze and of course, Joel's company. He was a man of few words, unfortunately, but it did make him hotter. Like, why so mysterious?

"So how'd you really get that sushi?" you asked, after some unimportant small talk.

"When we were at the supermarket," he said. "Wanted to surprise you."

"That's so hot," you said immediately.

"What?"

"It's so hot right now, that's what I meant," you spat and took your fume from him, taking in an unnecessarily giant hit.

"Well, wanna go back inside?"

"Nah."

"Okay?"

Another silence.

"You know, I wanted to uh, thank you, for being nice with Ellie and all," he said, "it's uh, it's nice."

"No probs. She's funny. Reminds me of a younger TikTok-obsessed cousin, you know? The kind you're excited to see on Christmas?"

"Yeah, yeah. I understand," he said. He didn't.

The silence continued. And you had to admit, it was getting awkward. Something needed to happen. And your pervert mind knew what would be perfect right now -

" - My daughter loved Chef Boyardee," Joel then said, really out of nowhere.

You turned to him. For a moment, you genuinely forgot he had a daughter. You didn't really like comforting people when you were horned up, but there was no escaping this. Who knows if he's ever said this before? Maybe you're the one - the special one - that gets to hear this exclusive tidbit. So you complied. Sometimes people needed a shoulder to lean on, so you decided right there and then, (and apparently Joel too), that you'd be that shoulder...

"That's crazy," you said. So little words, yet so much meaning.

"It is," he said, smoking the fume.

"My ex-sugar daddy, the guy that I told you about, do you remember?" you asked, he nodded his head. He did remember. "Well, yeah, he actually had a health scare once. Chef Boyardee, specifically the ravioli, was all he ate when he was separated from his wife. She used to cook all these real pasta dishes, so when he was living on his own he was pretty much incapable of cooking anything besides a bowl of cereal. He just ate Chef Boyardee ravioli all day and his cholesterol went up. It was crazy."

"Huh."

"Yeah. And it was kinda weird, you know, because he was Italian. I didn't think Italians accepted the Chef as one of their own."

"I guess he did."

"Yeah. I miss him."

Joel turned to you.

You realized your mistake. You DON'T bring up an ex on the first date hello?!?! HELLO (@ALL THE BOYS IN THE WORLD HELLO?!?!?!)

"I mean, I miss the old world, you know. Like, how you miss your daughter," you explained. "Association and all."

"I'm sorry if I'm a little, you know," he said, "If I don't come off very - personable. You've, uh, been a great help to us both. To me."

"Of course! It's okay. It's kinda hard to keep manners going when more than half of the population are demented cannibals and the other wanna rob you all the time."

You both smiled softly. You provided him the warmth he needed, the warmth that could always greet him at the end of the day, reminding him that there's always room for warmth. You are his sun, his warmth. You're his heating pad, the warmth of a heating pad.

"I don't, I don't say this much. Not at all, actually, not until you brought up the 'association' thing, but - you remind me of the old world," he said.

Your ass couldn't help but smile.

"Oh my god Joel that's like so sweet!" you said, before jumping on him to give him a big hug! He hugged tightly back, he then threw you back on the bench and you felt his member pressed against your leg. He then began kissing you, his tongue licking your lips for entrance. You let him in. Your tongues fought for dominance but you let him win. He eventually started going down on you, taking your "I <3 ORLANDO" Spongebob-themed PJ shorts off, and started kissing your labia.

"This...this is a labia," he said, his southern drawl coming out in full force.

"Oh my god this is just like my fic!"

"What?"

"Nothing!"

You lifted your legs as he began to eat you out, his wet breath on your cooter. He held your foot up and raised himself, ready to press his member into your entrance. Your eyes were closed, ready to take the man from Austin, Texas in. This is it. No Flaka girls, no fungus-infested toilets, no Chef Boyardee-obsessed raiders, nothing - just you and Joel.

Hope you enjoyed!

xoxo,

~Sam St. Clair

P.S. - I'm not actually dead! I've been in hospital. So, almost. I've now learned that sanding your tires down to make them look cleaner and smoother and prettier is actually quite dangerous.

xoxo, again,

~Sam St. Clair

[darth-sonny]

What if... Maybe a year or so after Leo starts becoming a more active parent... Kirby goes missing? They're only gone for a day or two, but Leo is obscenely worried. Going insane looking for them, when Kirby returns, quiet as ever. Leo holds them in his arms, demanding to know where they were, when quietly, Kirby asks;

"... How was I born?"

They know. They got tired of Leo's half answers, the states they'd get from Uncle Donnie and Aunt April. They looked for the truth themself, and they found out who their other parent really is.

Obviously this is just me spitballing but if you couldn't tell I'm in love with his AU didysbsjsm

okay, okay, okayokayokayokayokayokayokay

personally, for me, Kirby wouldn't know. like, they know that they're half-Kraang, but Leo just told them that it was because he got infected and that messed with his biology and that resulted in Kirby. like, not the obvious truth, but just a smidge of what actually happened. a very watered-down version of everything

but T H I S ??????? oh-hohohohohohohohohohohohohoho~~~~~~~

this i like~~

Donnie and Raph try to say something about that question - either to answer it or to somehow change the subject. Anything, really - while Mikey tries to stop them. Splinter is trying to calm everyone down when Leo tells them to leave.

——————————————————————————

Leo would go quiet. He would freeze.

None of them want to. But Leo insists, quite sternly, and they leave.

So it's just Leo and Kirby.

Leo leads them to the kitchen and makes some chai, Kirby's favorite. "How was I born?" they ask again. They wish they hadn't said anything. Because things were going great, and they didn't want to ruin that, but they were curious, and they wanted to know why their family treated them the way they did.

They just want confirmation that what they learned wasn't true and just... nasty stories.

"Are you sure you want to know?" Leo asks, staring at the pot.

This was the point of no return.

And Kirby decides to pass it.

"Yes."

So Leo tells them.

He tells them about the key, about Casey Junior's true origins. About how a clan called the Foot released an ancient evil called the Kraang. Tells them about how the end of the world almost happened right there and then.

He tells them about how he decided to lock himself in the prison dimension to save everyone. Tells them about the weeks of torture and abuse, about how he lost his arm. How his leg got fucked up so badly that he now can't walk without a cane.

He tells Kirby about Prime.

Over their favorite tea, Kirby learns everything.

How Prime possessed their dad, took pleasure in it. How they abused him – emotionally, physically, mentally, and even...

Leo stops himself from finishing, but Kirby gets the picture.

He ends the "story," and Kirby wants to run away again.

They regret asking, they regret being curious, and they regret being born. They regret not running away when they had the chance back then. They regret staying and hurting dad, reminding him of what he went through, reminding everyone–

Leo pulls them out of their beginning spiral with a hug.

"I never blamed you," he whispers, and that breaks them.

"Why?" they ask. Why doesn't he blame them? He should. Uncle Donnie does it. Auntie April does it. And Uncle Raph, even though he tries not to. Dad should blame them, he had every right to...

Leo holds them for a long time, rocking back and forth, shushing Kirby's tears and sobs.

"Because you didn't deserve any of this," he says. "I chose to keep you. I chose to have you grow up, to live in the aftermath of that whole situation. It's my fault everyone treated you like that. You didn't do anything. You aren't at fault for anything. You're just as much a victim as I was. Am."

Kirby tries to shake their head, but Leo doesn't let them.

"I'm sorry," he continues. "I'm sorry I was never there to start with. I'm sorry that I forced you to grow up so quickly. I'm sorry that I brought you into a family that was never going to truly love you the way you deserved to be. And I'm sorry that I couldn't protect you from this."

Leo hugs them tighter and gently places his forehead on top of theirs.

"You deserve so much more than this, than me. You deserve a normal childhood, a happy one, full of uncles and aunties that love you without question. But you got us. You got me. But I promise you that I'll do everything I can to make it up to you. And if that means you want to leave, then-"

Kirby shakes their head. They don't want to leave. They don't! They had those thoughts before, but they were dumb thoughts now. They can't leave!

"I-I'm sorry!!" they sob. The tears fall harder when dad rubs soothing patterns on their shell. "I'm s-sorry I hurt-hurt you!..."

"You didn't hurt me," he soothes, "you never hurt me."

They stay in the kitchen for a long time, Leo holding them and doing his best to stop the tears.

Neither of them feel like they'd apologized enough, but they console the other that they have.

[emberunderscore]

ranting about chapter titles of my prison duo fic for 1000+ words

so all of the titles of my prison duo fic (the sun and the night sky) are names of flowers. i had the fun idea and then i couldn't stop because i started a pattern and i refused to break the pattern unless it was important story wise (i'll get to that)

so here's a master list of all the first 10 chapters, their titles, what the flowers mean and why i chose them!

spoiler warning - go read my fic if you haven't already! (and if you don't want to but still wanna read this tw: talking about eating disorders)

Daffodils > Daffodils - new beginnings and rebirth In this chapter Icarus is handing over the title of Quixis to hc!Sherbert, they get to go home but they've changed so much they're practically a different person. not only did their eye change back, making them whole again, they've seen so much happen across the multiverse, watched other versions make mistakes and just watched them all live. they've learned from their lives. going home after about 200-250 years will be like being reborn for them, its a new beginning. especially because no one remembers them, not even the world itself, not even the records.

Forget-me-nots and Yellow Roses > Forget me nots - rememberance, and a symbol of memory loss/dementia Icarus meets with people they've known, Rae, Violet (also Isla, but they dont remember her, they didn't get their memories of the resets fully back). No one remembers them, Rae thought they died as a child. Near the end of the chapter Caspian gets home, he knows Icarus, and he reveals he never forgot them. He restores the memories of Rae and Violet, hence rememberance. They're getting remembered. > Yellow Roses - happiness, friendship, a way of saying "you make me happy" Icarus and Violet are friends in this universe, both of them have wanted it to be more for so long but they've both been too scared to lose the other to say anything. So they are really close friends, and Icarus is just so happy Centross remembers them that they don't mind that they're just friends, they can't bring themself to want them to be more when there was even a moment where they thought they'd never get what they had before back because even if they were to start again, they'd never be as close as they were. They both went through so much and they went through a lot of it together. They were both so shitty to each other but they stayed close despite it, they forgave each other despite it. So Icarus is happy with friendship, and Centross does make them happy.

Bluebells and Lavender > Bluebells - constancy, gratitude, everlasting love Centross is their constant, he's been there all three resets that they remember. He's always been there, and as Sherb (the actual real one) has mentioned before that Icarus' whole emotional state is tied to him. When they're fighting, they're spiraling, when they're happy they're happy, when (they think) he's dead they're deteriotation, and doing everything to bring him back. They're so grateful that they have him, and he's their rock. And of course they have always loved him, and him them. Everlasting love is so self explanatory they're GAY and LOVE EACH OTHER forever and ever > Lavender - silence, devotion, calmness and serenity Icarus says to much about Quixis stuff and shuts down, they go silent. Centross is devoted to helping them calm down and get somewhere safe, "One thing he knew was he was not leaving their side until they were sober" look how devoted he is look at him, he cares so much!!!! Centross helps them calm down, and get calm enough to fall asleep, they feel safe and calm around him.

Yellow Roses and Lily of the Valley > Yellow Roses - cowardice, sickness and mental illness These have appeared already, but they also have negative meanings, the repeated use of them now in their negative symbolism shows a shift in the tone of the story. This is the chapter they have breakfast with Ghaae+ household, they are unable to eat the food and dissociate during the meal, they end up leaving early, blaming it on a hangover - this part shows the cowardice, running away from their problem and hiding/running away. And the sickness and mental illness serve as a way to show that this is the beginnings of an eating disorder showing. > Lily of the Valley - sadness, pain, loss and death (+ poisonous) This shows the negatives of the breakfast, paired with the yellow roses the title of the chapter shows how Icarus' developing mental illness is already poisoning parts of their life. (thanking Vex for finding these flowers they're so good and they work so well and i struggled so hard with finding flowers with bad meanings <3)

Cornflowers and White Anemone > Cornflowers - symbol of hope, c!Ocie's favourite Yeah i just picked cornflowers cause i think they're c!Ocies fav and if im wrong its because i associate them with her or smth. Also symbol of hope!! its important because- > White Anemone - expectations, anticipation and undying love Violet wants to ask Ocie if he can date Ic but he wants to give her time to process the memories first (bc she hated them for a while there), he'll still love her and he'll always love them. While he's not with them he's anxious to get back to them, to make sure they're ok. Back with Icarus there are some unspoken expectations for them to eat, something they aren't able to do, specifically there's the scene Violet sits on the floor and tried to get them eat some bread, they end up dropping it on the floor so its inedible. Anticipation also works as this chapter is left on a cliffhanger, Centross asks Icarus if they're doing okay.

Orange Lillies > Orange Lillies - hatred, pride, disdain and contempt (+ they only live for a few weeks) Hatred, disdain and contempt are all emotions Icarus directs towards themself and their own body. They look at themself for the first time and see how underweight they are, they hate how they look and they hate themself. The pride symbolizm is irony, they should be feeling proud after managing to eat but they don't, it's a taunting meaning.

A Single Daffodil... > Singular Daffodil - misfortune A daffodil on its own represents differently than multiple, you might notice that all of the chapter titles are pluralises, including the use of Daffodils in the first one. In this chapter Icarus throws up for the the first time in the fic and they also faint in the second section. Which leads to Centross finding about their difficulties eating (neither of them know that it's an eating disorder, so they never use those words for it). It has the elipses at the end to show its split into two chapters.

...and Purple Hyacinth > Purple Hyacinth - Sorrow and a desire for forgivness All of the two days this chapter follows are not super happy for the both of them, near the end Icarus claims they've finished their house and that they plan to stay there. This leads Centross to go on a small tangent about how they didn't make a farm and they don't have any food, he tells them that they could die (pretty sorrowful if you ask me). Icarus feels the need to apologise for making him look after them.

Dandelions? > Dandelions - Hope, healing and resilience Icarus is doing a lot better in this chapter, they've made a lot of improvement really quickly and Centross is really proud of them for it, he has hope that they'll continue to improve. > ? This chapter is from Violet's point of view. The question mark is put there to tell the reader that something is wrong, that things are not as they seem. The reader not being able to see Icarus' thought or view of anything is intentional as they are in fact not doing okay. They are not getting better, they're trying to pretend to be better. For Centross. To make him trust them and make him happy.

Colorblind Not a flower. Remember when I said I didn't want to break the pattern of flower chapter titles unless it was important story wise? Yeah. This is where its important Icarus succesfully fooled Centross into thinking they were okay, and he lets them be alone that night. They know they're not okay but they don't want to get better at this point. This is their rock bottom. They punch the mirror in their bathroom out of disgust of their body and face, they faint from the motion, falling into the mirror and onto a pile of broken glass. They are left bleeding out on the floor of their bathroom, behind a locked door.

The title of this chapter comes from a song i listened to on loop to write most of the Icarus chapters, though it is available on spotify one of the creators is not a good guy and i don't want him to get money from it. The song is Empty by Jaiden Animations (wonderful and perfect) and Boyinaband <- hes the icky one, there are re-uploads of the song on youtube. it is a really good song (and the music video is cool)

Empty is a song about Jaiden's personal experience with an eating disorder, so it's very fitting. The title comes from the line "I know it's wrong but just because you know you're colorblind doesn't mean you can see the colors" The whole bit with them looking in the mirror is inspired by the line "I'm looking but I can't see myself" They look into their mirror but they don't see their own face, only Fables, and every other version of themself.

Colorblind also works really well against the flower chapters, because flowers are colourful, so colorblind means they can't see the colours of the flowers, and the colours are very important when it comes to symbolizm, they can't see them. It means that they look back on the week since they've got back and they can't see it for what it is. They actually can't remember most of it, i don't think this would ever come up in the fic outright but Icarus doesn't remember most of their days, all of them sort of blur together and they can't rememeber what thing happened on what day. This is a result of both their disocation and lack of eating leaving them disorented.

[zuzsenpai]

mental health update

I've been having a pretty shit year as far as mental health goes. I mean, I had an actual mental health crisis in February that was one of the scariest times in my life. It was all because I was trying to taper off a psych med and apparently that was a BAD idea.

In the months that followed, I was able to avoid a bad depression spiral thanks to getting back on that particular med. But I've been getting more and more exhausted, and when I have anxiety, I have it REAL bad. Like shaking and chest pain bad. Thought I had covid and nearly passed out waiting the 15 minutes for the test results. Zuko was sick and had surgery and I was in a constant state of misery and shaking and dizziness. I know I should probably get like... Xanax or something for this. Maybe I will in the future.

Anyway, my focus is almost non-existent these days. During and after Zuko's health crisis last month, I have been at a point where my brain just can't move. I think I've spent the last 30 days scrolling tumblr because that and projects at work (the ones with deadlines) are the only things I can actually get my brain to do.

I want to work on fanfic. So I open a project, but then am immediately like "no I can't get myself to mentally be on the same page as this project". I think about a different project and my chest feels tight because I both want to do it and don't want to do it. It's painful. I accomplish nothing. I want to play a game or watch a show but the thought of putting effort into those things destroys my ability to do them. I just sit and continue scrolling tumblr. I long for conversation but when I'm actually conversing with someone, I can only manage a few words and I hate myself for it. I long for validation or praise on past projects to help motivate me into writing fanfic again, but I know that's selfish and I know it doesn't motivate shit.

This is where I am right now. I don't know how to have fun or relax. I don't know how to focus on anything. I don't know how to want to focus on anything. I waste entire days fretting about doing nothing.

I've also never been more exhausted in my life. I got bloodwork done on vitamin D, B12, iron, and thyroid. All are within normal range. So I'm getting a consultation with a sleep doctor (I get about 5% deep sleep per night, which is NOT good). We'll see how that goes.

I'm starting an exercise routine soon. I'm hoping that does something helpful. But I keep pushing the date back in my mind like "let's start exercising next week"... so you can imagine how that's going.

[noellevanious]

more sad venting below

i don't really know what to do with myself at this point. lots of stuff in my life is going wrong (and i deserve most of it).

i wish i could say these breakdowns i've been having are just a weird emotional overloads that are gonna go away soon, but i feel like my mental state has gotten worse in every way, some worse than it was before 2022 when i transitioned.

i've got a lot of friends, and i appreciate the followers that do reach out to me to try and cheer me up, but i dunno. i spend pretty much every day at this point just sitting in my chair at my desk feeling sad, not wanting to do anything. i did that before, but at least i had the urge to play videogames, or try and do something. at this point i just pray somebody messages me and refresh tumblr, wondering when i'll break down again and trying to fight it back.

i want friends to reach out to me and offer to hang out or be a shoulder to cry on, but the people that do aren't the ones that i "want" to reach out to me (which is unfair to them), and the ones i do want to reach out don't and haven't for years, if they ever did in the first place.

i'm a social butterfly, but i'm also an awkward lonely transfem that isn't even out publicly, in a city where i have basically no friends. i want to visit friends more, but i don't have the money and my job can't really let me do that, so i'm just spinning my wheels. i get jealous when i see or hear friends talk about their social experiences, but i don't do anything to solve the issue, and just stew in my own pathetic self-loathing.

i've been a shitty girlfriend, i've gone back to completely despising my body and self image even though i'm going to the gym almost every day, aside from my job i don't even really know what the future holds for me. i have almost no money even though i work full time, we might get evicted from the house we live in, i live with family members that essentially suck me dry like leeches in every sense, and i can't even really get "sad" or "Angry" normally.

i promise i'm not spiraling again, it's not fair that i do it so much, but all the worst parts of me are coming out and i don't have anything redeemable right now, the only thing i know to do is post about it and hope somebody hears the cry for help.

if you unfollow me for all this sad posting i don't blame you. i can only do so many cries for help without it just turning into a droning whine nobody wants to hear from a perpetually sad loser.

[twistedastrology]

- Cancers at their worst -

----------------------------------------------------------

i just saw an ig post (no shade to the original poster) that said a cancer's dark side was everything they are stereotyped to be (extremely emotional/sensitive, are way too kind and always think people are judging them) and as a cancer that may be about to go neurotic again rn im gonna tell you from my personal experience what a cancer's dark side is actually like.

like i said though im going off of mostly just my experience so if this doesn't resonate, my bad- i did my best 🙏😔

to understand the nature of a cancer at their worst, you have to actually understand water and its potential volatility.

remember when i talked abt cancers and rage and how i said cancers are fire-coded (cardinal) water? keep that in mind for just abt this entire post.

fire is pure energy, and so is water, water just has more space to hold said energy- where fire burns out quickly, water doesn't dry out that fast at all especially if you have an ocean specifically.

people who say cancers (or really any water sign honestly-) are crybabies and switch moods every 5 seconds do not understand what water really is and this topic makes me a little livid sometimes because those are the same people that made me not like my rising sign for a long time.

to understand a cancers rock bottom, think about what water can do.

tsunamis can kill hundreds of thousands of people if they're big enough.

hurricanes, and sometimes tornadoes, form over water when the temperature is right.

the pressure at the bottom of the ocean can crush almost anything in an instant except for what has specifically evolved to live down there.

rain can lead to insane flooding (fellow floridians remember hurricane ian 2yrs ago 😕)

we have explored less of our ocean than the space around us, can you imagine what oceans on other planets would be like? especially the planets or moons that are almost Entirely water?

water represents emotion, yes, but when we boil that down to water signs being overly emotional, it doesn't make any sense and it makes some people, at least the ones that are like me, ashamed of their water placements because our society loves to say "emotion = bad." when obviously that is not true.

But if we wanna talk about the actual dark shit, aka my jupiter in scorpio's favorite shit, u gotta strap in.

Cancers feel more rage than anything.

i talked abt this specifically in my cancers and rage post, but it's true for this as well.

to use myself as the example, whenever i feel depressed or upset for some reason (like today), it's never just that sad feeling, it is always accompanied by a distinct anger because i get pissed that i feel like shit.

but if that rage doesn't get its way, or worse, gets too much of its way, i can succumb to a state of misery or, at my worst, neurosis, where multiple god awful things happen.

im not one to stay down for long, the last and first time i went neurotic, it only lasted for a week until i snapped out of it, but it was still very damaging.

cancers at their worst will feel an urge to self-destruct that may or may not be uncontrollable depending on other placements in the chart and of course how shitty they feel.

they will find something detrimental to do and if they genuinely can't, they will instead just mentally rip themselves open and daydream about what it would be like to just completely lose control and fall into a self-destructive spiral.

that's what happened to me when i went neurotic. one wrong decision and, having no access to anything that would take a toll on my physical body, i ripped myself to pieces in my head and almost fell in love with the act.

like gerard way said, there's something very romantic about it.

cancers can get moody, yes, but at this point they'll go mostly numb and tearing at their soul is the only thing they enjoy.

and then the pain will catch up to them.

once that pain catches up to them, two things will happen.

they will begin to realize what they've been doing and how pointless it is, and they will activate a duality within themselves of the desire to hurt and the need for pain relief.

they will tear at themselves even more, knowing they shouldn't be doing what they are, but it's a vicious cycle.

this will happen, and then the potential for redemption begins to boil over.

after being in the dark, blissfully hidden depths of their own mental ocean, they will realize they can't breathe anymore, and they will either suffocate themselves or snap their eyes open and swim up until they see the light they deprived themselves of for however long.

once they've made it to the surface, they gasp to catch their breath, their tears being of the need for pain relief winning against their desire to hurt.

now the water is not a personal vice, but a cleansing presence that makes them feel understood. the water gets it. the water would never judge them for what they did.

after being in the dark embrace of the depths of the ocean for so long, the light finally hitting your eyes makes color seem so much more vibrant.

- 🌙 -

all this to say that, at their worst, cancers can succumb to self destruction like no other, but they have the drive to keep them going to even them out.

they don't just cry all day or switch moods 24/7, they fall into a vat of water that, the deeper they go, reveals more and more of their very soul.

it's the deepest level of shadow work, it's the pain no one wants to go through because it's the pain of losing your personal momentum and then having to find it again in an instant before it's gone forever.

OR i could be totally wrong idk But this is my experience!!!! ✨💞💞✨💞✨💞✨��✨ God belsls!!!!!!!!

my bad that was real dark and poetic writing now i gotta balance it out Uhhhmmmmm Legalize nuclear bombs. 💥

[porcelain-gal]

tw/cw .. mentions of psychosis, paranoia, and christianity

. . . CONTEXT + PSA!

i had someone in my inbox basically say that shifting can cause psychosis and/or paranoia due to some reasons they provided and i'm going to be speaking on this and giving my opinions on this topic! i accidentally deleted the post like an idiot so i can't reply to it directly which i apologize for!

please keep in mind that these are my personal opinions and i am in no way a mental health or spiritual professional or anything of the sort, i'm just speaking about my own thoughts on the matter.

also to those reading, please don't be disrespectful to op because they were respectful in their original message and this is a serious topic i wanted to discuss!

. . . MY THOUGHTS!

My opinion on this is: people possibly having these issues isn't because of shifting itself.

one of your points was that people sometimes make others feel like it's their fault for not getting their desires (i paraphrased so i apologize if that's not entirely accurate but that's what i got from it!) notice that it's not shifting itself causing that issue, it's the community.

say christians say to another other christian who is struggling that they aren't being recognized/forgiven by god because they're doing something wrong and they're just shitting on them and whatever. then this person goes on to start spiraling into paranoia and all this stuff thinking that they're being shunned by god or that they aren't pleasing god. this person isn't feeling bad because they're a christian on it's own, it's because of the community making them feel that way.

for another example, say someone who is a dog owner is dealing with a dog who has health issues and people in the dog community are blaming the owner because they think they aren't taking care of the dog meanwhile the owner is doing everything they can, essentially blaming the owner without knowing their circumstances. in this situation, the owner doesn't feel bad because they own the dog and are dealing with its health issues, it's once again because of the community blaming them.

if both the christian and the dog owner simply decided to leave the community or just ignore it, they would be able to get help and heal would probably continue on their life being a christian and a dog owner. why? because the issue was never what they were doing, it was the people around them fucking with their head and making them feel bad.

for the second point, if someone is developing psychosis and paranoia, literal mental disorders, from not obtaining their desires then i personally believe that person was not stable in the first place. if said person decided to just stop shifting entirely and leave it, they would still have to deal with the possibility of going into psychosis and paranoia over other things because shifting was never the problem, it was their mental state.

your average person won't just develop whole disorders from simply believing in shifting. people believe in gods and higher powers and aliens and manifestation and all these things that sound just as fantastical as shifting and a lot of them aren't dealing with those issues but there are people who do. the only difference is that the majority of people who do develop these issues were never mentally healthy to begin with.

and of course there are special instances where seemingly normal people develop issues through believing in these things but those are pretty rare and usually happen because of additional causes, not just what they're believing in/doing (e.g., someone converting to christianity and being taken advantage of by other christians, causing them to develop issues.)

i hope this explained my point of view on this and maybe gave some others some insight! if you don't agree, then you're valid of course but please don't be disrespectful or rude in the comments or my inbox. thank you for reading!

anti-shifter, proship/profic, ageplay, pro ana, bigot/incel, and any variation dni

[corishadowfang]

Fallen Stars Fic Notes

So, Fallen Stars has officially come to a close. It's been a pretty wild ride, haha; as per usual, it spiraled out of my control, length-wise (surpassing Dandelion Seeds...remember how I said I hoped I'd never write anything that long again? Yeah. That worked out.), but I'm happy (and pleasantly surprised) that so many people came on the journey with me.

So! As seems to be tradition now, I have some notes for the fic. Some behind-the-scenes stuff, some thoughts about post-canon--stuff like that! Putting it under a read more, because these tend to get long.

So as usual, we'll start with the playlist! This one I ended up doing a lot of playing around with, haha; there were several songs where it's like, "The vibes are right...but do they fit this moment/this character in the story? Does the order work? Should I use song x or song y?" I eventually ended up with something I'm relatively happy with, haha, even if not every song fits perfectly. There are actually a lot of honorable mentions for this one (since I, you know...played around with it so much) but probably the biggest are: Guilt by Nathan Wagner, Monster from Epic the Musical, Fight the Tide by Jonathan Young and Colm McGuinness, and Southern Star by Gregory Alan Isakov.

(Seriously, Fight the Tide was put on and taken off the playlist so many times--)

I know I've mentioned this places before, but: sometime circa summer 2021, I was thinking about doing a story following Brain through his time in Scala ad Caelum. Basically, it'd be a short (like--nine-ish chapters) series that explored Brain's grief and guilt and how he eventually adjusted to being in Scala. The story would've been called "May We Find Our Happiness," and was planned to be worked on once both On the Edge of Daybreak and Dandelion Seeds were finished. ...And then Missing Link was announced, and I went, "Oh! That's going to be explored in canon! I don't have to write it myself!" and the idea was shelved.

And THEN. Fast forward to winter 2023. It's...without going into too much detail, my mental state was Not Great. And I tend to process/cope with things by...well, writing. And...well, what better way to work out things than by using two of my favorite characters? The thought for this "proto-Fallen Stars" was that it would be a what-if AU for what would've happened if Skuld had ended up in Scala, and that it would follow Brain's and Skuld's entire lives through that time period. Despite the premise, this was also intended to be a relatively short series--roughly four to five chapters. It was intended to explore the idea that like--sometimes you don't heal fully from things, and your life doesn't turn out the way you wanted it to, but that doesn't mean you can't find happiness despite everything. ...And then I started writing the first chapter. And ran face first into Plot (i.e. the corrupt council). And very abruptly realized, "Oh, no. Oh, no, this is going to be LONG. And...probably not focus entirely on the time period I want it to." And so I shelved it. Again.

AND THEN. The Missing Link impatience was getting to me, haha. And there were a lot of ideas from both of the "proto" versions of the story that were genuinely very interesting to me from a writing perspective. And then I made this post (and a couple of follow-ups) with the hopes that it could satisfy the writing demons. ...It did not. So I went back, finished (and revamped) the original first chapter, and posted it. And, well--here we are!

The current iteration of Fallen Stars really does take a lot of inspiration from its predecessors. Darkling!Brain was actually the planned end for "May We Find Our Happiness" (though he wouldn't have died in that version; his new-found friends would've pulled him out of it, though he'd keep the gold eyes, like in Fallen Stars), the corrupt council's been a staple since the beginning, and obviously, the AU takes the same basic premise as proto-Fallen Stars.

I knew Fallen Stars was going to be longer than the initial ideas I had, but like...I still didn't expect it to be this long. Like--roughly 30 chapters, and about half the word count. Let it be known that I cannot accurately estimate a story (or chapter's) length, ever.

While there were certain Big Things that I had planned since the beginning (ex. Brain's death and resurrection), there were also things that ended up getting made up on the fly and/or cut because it seemed like it'd work better for the story. One of the big things is that, originally, Master's Defender was going to be used to help create the Land of Departure; essentially, during Darkness's attack, one of the abandoned islands would've split off from the world, and Brain would've used Master's Defender to chain it back together, so to speak, and give the Scalan refugees somewhere to go. That was cut because it felt like it would make Brain a little less desperate to make his sacrifice, and after that, it ended up feeling...kind of out of place? Plus, I felt like I hadn't done a good enough job foreshadowing that (though you can find some hints, if you're looking).

(The world they end up does still end up becoming the Land of Departure, though.)

Also, Luxu was originally going to be possessing Lodur. (Which is why time seems to slow down around him whenever things get intense! And also plays into the "narrator" thing--Lodur is a storykeeper, after all.) I'll leave it up to all of you guys to decide whether you want Lodur to be Sigurd's deceased brother, Sigurd to have been wrong about Luxu taking his brother's body, or for "Lodur is Luxu's vessel" to be non-canon.

While I finally decided to leave it out, I did think about doing an epilogue. I played around with a lot of different ideas for how that'd go, but it generally fell into three basic ideas: 1) Skuld, Brain, and the rest of the crew roughly a decade after the end of Fallen Stars, 2) Xehanort and Eraqus (as like...five-year-olds) interacting with the remaining crew, or 3) Ven and Lauriam finding stories about Skuld and Brain in the distant future. I do like all of these, but I ended up feeling like it kind of...glossed over how much time it'd take for them to repair Scala and heal, so I ended up going with the current ending instead--which is hopeful, but still leaves room for the struggles that may follow.

THAT SAID. There's a non-zero chance some of those epilogues may show up as one-shots. I like the idea of exploring some post-canon scenarios in the Fallen Stars-verse (in particular, the first year after everything, since there's...a lot that the main crew go through). That said, I'm also not going to promise anything on that front, since it'll largely depend on my time/energy levels/inspiration.

(Also, feel free to ask me about post-canon stuff, in case I never get around to writing things; a lot of stuff changes around, haha, but I do have Ideas.)

"Do you want to hear a story?" has been planned as the final lines for a long time, haha. One, because it acts as a nice book-end for the story. Two, because it's kind of like...symbolic. Skuld is the one who said it, and is the only character besides Luxu to (kind of) break the fourth wall, so this was like...representative of her taking control of her own story. (This is also, for the record, why the "Do you want to hear a story?" narrator parts don't show up again after chapter 40; Skuld is the narrator now.)

The title was actually going to be the name of the first chapter. I was struggling to find a title I liked (I didn't want to use "May We Find Our Happiness" since, uh...that ended up as a chapter title for On the Edge of Daybreak, when I still thought I wouldn't do a story in Scala), and ended up brainstorming ideas for the chapter title instead. I'd landed on "Fallen Stars" because like--Brain and Skuld were "fallen stars" in the sense that a lot of people who are displaced from fallen worlds in the KH series tend to, uh...fall out of the sky, but also in the sense that they were legends who were, very suddenly, being made human in the eyes of Scala. And then it hit me that, "Wait...that'd work great for a fic name." And then it was repurposed, haha.

And...I will probably cut off the notes there, haha. Fallen Stars has been fun to work on, and it's weird to think that it's finished (unless, of course, I end up doing those one-shots). Thank you for coming on this ride with me; I hope you've enjoyed it!

[full-of-malice]

miguel o'hara & trauma

a little character analysis + my thoughts about him idk he has ptsd because i said so brief general content warnings for death, trauma, grief, suicide, and there is atsv spoilers idk if i should put warnings for that or not

miguel o'hara like all individuals with trauma, especially ptsd, has intense reactions to anything regarding his trauma. he also carries intense fear, anger, grief, and guilt, common emotions that many trauma survivors struggle with.  examples of his fear include how he fears for the destruction of the multiverse. the intense anger reactions when someone doesn't understand the weight, and the very intense anger directed at himself.  the grief that he can't seem to escape, as he's constantly shown with the heavy weight of his daughter's death on his shoulders. he is also  his guilt is what drives everything. his grief fuels him, sure, but his overwhelming guilt for his daughter's death causes him to want to make sure it will never happen ever again, at whatever cost that it takes. it's the only way to ever repay the wrong that he had done. miguel's guilt and rage are the only things that are driving him through his day to day life, since he feels he has the entire multiverse on his shoulders, and the devastating guilt of his daughter's death on his mind, leaving him in a perpetual state of exhaustion. does this excuse his actions that he made in his intense rage such as physically chasing teens? no. does it give an explanation? yes.  understanding miguel's trauma is important to understanding why and how he functions. it goes far beyond sad silly man, it leans into a moral debt and spiraling emotions that lead him to do what he does. he's constantly in an environment surrounded by what caused his trauma, which is an incredibly triggering and stressful work life. he is never given a chance to take a step back or separate himself from it. always surrounded by something that hurt him in a way that cannot be undone but his sense of moral debt and heavy guilt doesn't allow him to remove himself from the situation to give himself a break or allow himself to get the proper help that he needs while this is already an intense and struggling situation to be in mentally, miguel struggled a lot before even finding the dimension where he had a daughter, he has a very strong and intense implied prior trauma. going off of some of the world building and my slight knowledge of the comics [i'm. not a fan of the comics!miguel but simply going off of world building] there is a lot of corruption, with the top layer of the worlds being perfect areas for the wealthy, but only for the poor or lesser peoples living below the surface of the earth. this is briefly implied through the chase scene in atsv when miguel is chasing down miles.  so in this world it's already messed up. he's implied to have had a hard life. miguel had turned himself into a spider person, and often viewed himself as a monster. he couldn't come to terms with who or what he was, could never fully be okay with the fact that he wasn't human anymore. this self hatred it came to a point in the comics were he was even suicidal.  not to mention that he likely has a strange complex that comes from the borderline psychological horror of invading a person's life and not being the person that they think you are, when he replaced gabi's father in the other dimension.  all of this comes to the point where on top of already having mental health issues, he also had to death with the death of his daughter, and having that weight and guilt on his mind.  all in all he makes for a very sympathetic character who does things that are wrong and inexcusable, in a misguided attempt to do the right thing.

if you read this whole thing thanks a lot for deeming this incoherent mess of words worthy of your time i had a lot of fun writing this actually

[pedrospatch]

Hi um do you have advice for how to cope with having a partner who doesn't view voting for Presidential election important bc they're not in a swing state / in a red state. I keep trying to tell my partner that for a lot of minorities such as myself whether you live in red or swing state, voting is still important especially for people who's lives are getting attacked by bigoted policies.

hello non

i almost wasn't going to answer this because i am mid spiral at the moment and i'm not sure i am in a position to offer even half decent advice or words of wisdom but i shall try for you <3

on one hand, i can understand why your partner might feel that way about the presidential election. for example, i'm in california and if i hadn't voted, i know for a fact it would not change the fact that at the end of the day, california will be blue as blue can get and those electoral votes are going to kamala. HOWEVER. it costs nothing to get out there and vote, regardless of whether or not you're in a swing/battleground state. also, imagine if everyone had the same mentality and chose not to vote??? we're also voting for more than just the president. we're voting for local offices and important propositions in regards to housing, healthcare, etc.

at the end of the day, we can't force anyone to do anything, though. we can only do our part and it sounds like you did yours by voting, and by trying to talk to your partner about the importance of exercising their right to vote. as far as coping, again, i am mid spiral so i am the last person who should be giving advice about coping :/ it has been a stressful night.

just try to take it easy, non. sending you lots of love and a big hug <3

[suwisuwii]

When my ex finally moved out I thought I wouldn't really see him again. Or just not very often. Now, I know he isn't going to move back in to live with me, just my daughter, but I have been anxious all day.

My daughter is coming back tomorrow, and he'll be staying at an airbnb or something until he finds a place.

The reason why I allowed my daughter to leave is because she was supposed to stay with his family, who would take proper care of her. That is no longer the case.

Now why didn't I offer to let him stay here too until he finds something?

I know the moment he sits down in my house, he won't leave.

(I'm going to be talking about some graphic details below, tw for death, murder, rape, suicide mention )

This guy tricked me into getting pregnant, following him to his country, and doing sex work for years. He never tried to find a job, he was perfectly happy with me working 24h a day, not seeing my daughter for weeks, just so I could afford him a work-free life. I had agreed to a few months of it while he looked for a job, and was now trapped in it without an end in sight.

When a client raped me and almost killed me, he said it was "part of the job".

On another occasion one of my coworkers was murdered and dismembered, and he showed no symphathy when he saw her on the news and I told him that was my friend.

(the killer is now in jail, I had met him once and I won't go into details but I survived because I made a scene and he left. I felt sick for a few days but it wasn't enough to kill me. He has been found guilty of 3 murders, and 7 attempts)

But I just kept on going and didn't feel human anymore.

At a point I was in therapy because I wanted to die. I wasn't even sad or upset, I just thought of myself as a disposable tool. I was soon to have enough money to buy a flat in cash, and I would buy that for him and my daughter, and then just die. I felt happy thinking about the time when I would finally be free and die.

The only reason I was able to stop, and wiggle out of that situation was because of the first covid lockdown. The whole country shut down for months, we literally were not allowed fo leave our house unless we were going to buy essentials (police asked for receipts). Initially I felt trapped, slowed down. I had to be alive a little longer.

Things changed when I made friends, even if online, for the first time in years. I started seeing myself as a person again and not a tool.

I broke up with him, and kept on mantaining him economically for years just because I felt obligated to. But I started making art again during that time and earning money for myself. When he left, I thought it was finally over.

I know I am realistically not in danger but as my partner said to me today, every time he calls I end up spiraling in a frenzy. I think it's the trauma.

In any case. I can't wait to have my daughter back. And whatever happens, I'll fight to keep my freedom.

I'm also very grateful for the partner I have now. I was in a bad mental state today, and he said that he will not let anything bad happen to me. It sounds like something simple but I know he means it. And I don't feel as scared if he's supporting me.

I know I can't lose my freedom now but damn every time I get so scared. I guess that's how trauma works. It's not rational.

[eldritch-spouse]

Sorry if you've already answered this - the search function is broken for me, but how do you maintain confidence in work? Like not in the work itself - that will always be subject to your mental state, which usually goes in cycles. I mean in the sense that "to deserve to create"? I often go months without creating because I look at the page and go "my talent isn't worth cultivating" even if I have at least ONE piece I am proud of. It's not about comparison, it's just knowing it will take me a long time to get anywhere near where I want to be, and finding it a struggle to know what I see in my head will be butchered on paper over and over again.

This is going to get long-winded, so I'll put it behind a "read more".

I don't know who put this idea that you need a permission to create in your head. That creation and expression is something to be gatekept. That it's not a right you should have as a person. That you have to do it a certain fucking way, or it's "not right" (TM).

But, let's be real, it was probably you, wasn't it?

You told yourself that you don't deserve to create. That you'll never make anything "that matters".

No one else is telling you this. You are.

Can I be real with you here?

This isn't something you fix with an ask, it's something you save up and bottle and take to a psychologist. Because it has to do with your general attitude in life, and to me, reads as a pretty big flag that help is needed. Maybe.

I know because I was there. I am getting out of there. And this isn't something you want to let spiral into a "Why do I even draw?", "It'll always be ugly.", "It'll never develop.", "It's never good enough."

"I'm never good enough."

You don't want that. Work on this immediately. I can't help you, but I hope you can find that help.

That being said, I'm sure you know things aren't developed in a day. Especially not skill.

I don't know anything about talent. Because I don't have any talents. Talents are like fairytales to me. What I have, is a crumb of skill. But skill is better than talent, if you ask me. Because skill is gained, skill is the fruit of hard work, skill is knowledge. Talent is more of a happenstance.

If you think you have a talent, then that's all the more reason to want to work on it!

Do you think I'm happy with the stuff I make? No. I don't like the way I draw most things. The way I write bothers me. I can't project shit onto paper. That's why I keep doing it. Because I want to correct it and make it better. I'm sure you're able to see one or two things improving amidst the mistakes you crank out, and that has to count for something. You have to cling to those victories and use them to power you forward- Because we're never satisfied. We always want better, and it's intensely satisfying to see yourself get closer to that goal, no matter how far away it is.

You lack serious motivation, that much is clear, otherwise this process would be minimally enjoyable for you. Taking a crack at daunting things would make you nervous in a happy way, it wouldn't serve as a reminder that "you'll continue to butcher everything".

Anon, I'm just an idiot with a pen and an overactive imagination. I'm not "confident" in my work, I'm just happy that I'm making things in general. I won't ever stop until I can make all the characters I've ever dreamed of feel alive. Because that's simply what makes me happy. I have no real goal. I know I've "butchered" plenty of drawings before and I will continue to do that forever, but I'll be having fun.

And that's what matters.

Although it would be pleasant to become better with time and practice, even if I don't evolve that much, I'm happy. This makes me happy. I'm over the moon I get to have this.

I don't know how to explain to you that confidence is meaningless to me here. This is sacred to me and I refuse to let anything ruin it.

[ikamigami]

If that thing was an actual virus the Creator put in Sun's head, because of the red eyes, who do we think its going to attack first?:

Could it attack Earth or Moon?

Might it try/succeed in killing Sven when he checks on Sun's systems?

Will it make Sun attack Dazzle and Jack hurts/potentially kills Sun defending her?

Will it make Sun attack Molten to capture him? Or Lunar? Or FC?

Or might Nexus and Ruin capture Sun to use him like the Creator did and it triggers then and attacks them?

Might Monty get broken again?

Or something else? No matter what it's going to be awful for Sun

Yeah if it's some virus than something like that may happen..

I imagine that Sun's line "I'll break something one of these days" (iirc) was referring to this..

This thing will take over Sun and break something.. or rather someone I presume..

I think that doesn't matter if it's virus or only a mental thing.. it'll definitely cause Sun to spiral..

I wonder if we'll get one of the things I was talking about in my blog:

Sun will try to take out this thing from his head by force which would mean his death but two things can happen - this is how he kills himself or someone stops him before he does too much damage to himself

Sun will try to kill himself during tortures caused by either Creator or Nexus - personally I think it'll be when Nexus will kidnap him cause we have more hints for this happening - cause he tried to free himself from nightmare by killing himself.. though it was a good idea but it was a bit weird that he immediately jumped to that idea without any hesitation or second thoughts.

I know that many people said that they won't show something like that but tbh.. the hints and foreshadowing to Sun trying to kill himself are strong and there's too much of that shit to ignore it..

But like I said I think that Sun won't die die.. but he'll end up in a coma or something like that..

Cause that would be awful if Sun succeeded and tbh I doubt that they'd make Sun succeed..

And imagine that I was always talking about it like that.. though I have to admit that when I had an episode I was more on edge and me talking about Sun being suicidal was more like a doom posting shshshskshkshskshksh

And for some reason people have to have a problem with that even though they didn't have a problem with others talking about Eclipse being suicidal or that Moon or Nexus are having xyz issues..

And I always tried to point out this hypocrisy which made these folks even more mad at me lol

I know that sometimes I was unnecessary mean in my posts because of the agitated state I was in back then.. but tbh I more often than not was saying that people on Discord tsbs server are stupid and they don't care about Sun..

And it made them so pissed at me lmao now it seems funny to me.. but back then when I had an episode I treated it seriously..

The truth is that I should block these people long time ago cause they never wanted to have a normal discussion about anything.. it was always we don't agree with you and/or we don't like your theories so begone..

And ofc they had to make themselves to be seen as the more righteous ones solely because it's so "wrong and disturbing" of me to say that Sun is suicidal.. even though they themselves have many angsty ideas with Eclipse..

It was okay for them to say that Eclipse actually cares way before it was confirmed but it was only hinted.. but apparently it wasn't okay for me to say that Sun has mental issues that make him suicidal when things weren't confirmed yet but only hinted..

You see the hypocrisy, right?

I think that they didn't like that I was openly critisizing them for their hypocrisy.. and that's why they were attacking me..

Sorry for the rant but I wanted to make it clear that there was never anything wrong with me saying that Sun is suicidal and that he may try to kill himself..

It was wrong of them to assume that I wished Sun to be suicidal when it was never the case but it's like that when people either can't read or they try to smear some shit about you because they don't like you.. ofc the second one is worse because it'd mean that they were doing it on purpose..

But regardless of their intentions they still hurt me a lot and they never felt the need to apologize for that.. even though I apologized for going way overboard with my words when I had an episode..

Once again sorry for the rant and I hope that you don't mind it, dear anon 🙇‍♀️