wordspinning

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HEY I LOVE THIS 💕🥹🫶✨💕🥹

i think in the future i’ll leave the painting to @wordspinning but this little paint by section from michael’s was fun ☺️

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unfortunately i want to make purchases :(

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“We don’t know if he’s going to survive the night, El,” he says, voice low with warning, and she breathes through a swell of nauseating dread. 

He’ll die alone. I won’t be there.  

“He will. He’ll find us.” Her voice is hoarse in her own ears.

“And if you die out there,” Tommy continues, unheeding, “he ain’t getting cured. Same goes for the rest of ours here.”

This reality has occurred to her, but she has set aside the implication in these past hours. There are still twenty-seven people within Jackson’s remnant awaiting the cure, and beyond their immediate need, she knows there will be more.

“I know, Tommy—” She wants to beg him to stop. She trusts him, and it is because of this that she finds herself unable to withstand his reinforcement of the crushing reality of their situation. She senses too that it carries no small measure of despair, and this is so dissonant with Tommy’s nature that it makes her feel ill.

The set of his jaw remains grave, but his eyes soften at her unspoken plea. He draws a laden breath and seems to recommit himself into some measure of equanimity.

“I’m gonna ask you a question, and I want you to be real honest with yourself,” he says, his voice sincere and tender now in its grief. “Would you be goin’ even if he wasn’t in trouble?”

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short (heartbreaking) little chapter, hope u guys enjoy! <3

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header creds:

@lauramakabresku | @omenalehto | @lauramakabresku river view valley ranch hbo | seeking our someday | @perennialdoll247

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Send him to the mountains, let him go free forever, he'll be running through the forests, dancing in the fields like this

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haaa.....

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saw an elderly woman walking around with a tote bag whose design were the four AO3 fic category squares and she very excitedly asked if i was a reader or a writer bcs nobody else at the con had recognized it, and after telling her that i've been writing fic since fanfic.net, she solemnly nodded and explained that she'd been reading fic since "the days of personal websites" but that she only started writing fanfic when she was 47 and oh my god when i tell you that i genuinely teared up on the spot!!!!! like!!! HELL YEAH???? LITERALLY NEVER TOO OLD TO START WRITING. NEVER TOO OLD TO WRITE AND SHARE YOUR FIC.

her enthusiastic "i'm a very nice and bubbly person, i swear! but i love writing angst and major character death :)" nearly took me the fuck out.

icon. legend. diva. i wish her nothing but a kajillion million comments and kudos. i hope her fic updates crash AO3. i hope she knows i'm promoting her to my personal patron saint of AO3.

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MARCH WHAT IF I SOBBED 💕😭😭😭😭 ilysm and honestly this means the world to me 🫂🫂🫂🫂 @march-flowerr

18. Shout-out to a fan artist whom you love.

8. A fic I found inspirational or learned something from.

hi <3

18. A fan artist that I love:

@wordspinning ! She's so fucking talented and literally so kind and so smart and funny and beautiful. She was my first friend in this fandom, and it's been so cool to watch her skills progress over these last few years. YALL, she's been featured on HBO's fan-art posts. She's met Gabe Luna! She's so driven and you can see how precious her art is to her in every piece that she creates. I love love love her <3

8. A fic I found inspirational or learned something from:

A lot come to mind, but I'm going to shout out two oldies that really were the foundation of my venture into fic writing:

I Wish I Had a Hundred Years by Mahuika. GOD what a masterpiece. They were publishing pretty frequently throughout 2023 and I remember being like, literally on the edge of my seat reading some of the chapters. Beyond being so insanely heart wrenching and tender and grief laden, their portrayal of Joel really influenced a lot of my Joel. Their use of cadence of speech and mannerism, the way they portrayed his nervous tics, his tactile love and drive to protect was sooo important to me when I started crafting my own version of Joel Miller. Idk if this story will ever be updated, and I doubt they'll ever see this but if they do, I hope they feel a little uplifted knowing that their words had a major impact on me, and I think of them and this story quite a lot.

and

I Can't Be The One Left Here Dragging You Down by the_fond_hope_of_salty_dog. It was a fic I read over and over. It was the first fic I think I'd read that dealt so honestly and candidly with the impact of mental illness on the family unit. Joel's struggle with PTSD and Ellie's struggle to support him in a way that served them both tore at me. I drew a lot of inspiration from it when I started writing you and me on the rock. I think it really made me take a step back and realize that if I was going to keep writing in this fandom - and that if I wanted to be good at it- then I would need to write from a place of real vulnerability and fear. I couldn't half ass it and hide myself from the parts of me that made me uncomfortable. I've really tried to write stuff that's real and hard and messy, because that's what life is. That's what loving someone is.

Speaking of love - I love YOU, Bumble. Thank you for the ask!!

fic rec ask game hereeee

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"I am not the God of the worlds I create in my stories. If I insist on being the God of the worlds I create, then I am confined to making incredibly small stories. In reality, we don’t fully comprehend God or understand what he is doing all the time—so if we want to create stories that feel real, we need to let things happen that we don’t fully understand, because that’s how life is. If we want to make stories that resonate, we need to let God be the God of our stories."

— Stephen McCranie, "Storytelling with Faith and Free Will"

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it comes and goes in waves

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can't stop thinking about leader!Tommy ever since ep2 so here's my rendition at the extremis of TSIU's climax T_T

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Chapter 58: Ictus

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48072688/chapters/171750169

The fungus erupts with vigor, further innervated by the warmth of the morning sun. She braces, readying herself as it climbs up the side of her neck, its tendrils probing gently. When it penetrates the bruised and tender tissue of her sinuses, she cannot stifle a cry of pain, and she’s vaguely aware of Tommy and Maria crouching behind her, steadying her with their hands on her back, murmuring a prayer over her. She tries to ground herself in their touch as the mycelium fills her mouth, and her vision darkens as the fungus intertwines with it. She traverses deep into the Cordyceps’ fold. 

An awareness of the fungal consciousness unspools rapidly across distances to great for Ellie to comprehend, and the tumult of their ravenous hunger threatens to drown out her thoughts. She resists the outcry of their ruined minds, turning her attention to the mountains directly west of Jackson, testing the slim chance that the passages have opened up, and finds no way to summit. She follows the foothills north hundreds of miles until they wrap around the end of the Teton range, and the mycelium turns back towards the enemy valley. It doesn’t take her long. The earth has warmed, and Ellie knows the way.

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Please enjoy this truly horrific chapter T_T

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header creds:

@lauramakabresku | @omenalehto | @lauramakabresku river view valley ranch hbo | seeking our someday | @perennialdoll247

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“My first end-of-life patient was a 97-year-old man. He had a much younger girlfriend; she was seventy-four. But they loved each other so much. Back when their spouses were still alive, the four of them had been great friends. They would double date together. And when their spouses passed away, the two of them became a thing. Every day she would come over for lunch. I’d always cook a little meal for them. I’d prepare the table; I’d lay out my little candles and my little flowers. As soon as she arrived I’d put on music and dim the lights, then I’d leave the room and go wait in the bedroom. They would cuddle and snuggle. And the beauty of it was, even though he couldn’t control his fluids at that point, she never minded the smell. Her love for him was so great that they would still kiss and all that good stuff. When the doctors said that it was time for him to go to hospice, he said he didn’t want to go. He told them that he wanted to come back home and die with me. I was with him in the end. My patients never die alone. Never, ever. One week after his passing I was hired by his girlfriend’s family. She had terminal Alzheimer’s, and I ended up staying with her for seven years. I fell in love with her. We were family, just family. She used to be a tap dancer. We’d sing together. And if she didn’t feel like singing, I’d sing. Even near the end, she always knew when something was wrong with me. When I wasn’t being the Gabby that she knew, she would always know. When the doctors said it was time for her to go to hospice, her children said: ‘We want her to die with Gabby.’ In the final days she wouldn’t eat, she’d lock her jaw. But she would always eat for me. One night I could see the fright in her eyes, and I knew it was time. My patients never die alone. Never, ever. So I climbed under the covers with her. And she passed away in my arms.”

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Did anyone else pick up on Tommy hearing Abby and Lev enter the theater through the fire escape in episode 7?

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Hey y’all! I’m doing a TLOU print giveaway on Instagram! All you have to do to enter is follow @mera.kiae and leave a comment on the post!

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Hey, so, this is a critical hit okay? A fuckin critical hit.