#feels like ive barely made any progress...

[nutton-of-tata]

Holy shit I'm turning 22. Where have the years gone

[ikyw-t]

I do relate to olivia rodrigo in some ways for example I did have nightmares each week (every day for months) after that phone call in may (march). I fantasize (once every other blue moon) about a time where you're a little fucking sorry. except I do not hold my undying love (there is not even an iota of love, if there ever was) like a grudge and also I will never ever forgive bc you were indeed filled with vitriol. and unfortunately I also cannot let it go. it was six months (three years) of torture. I did NOT love you truly and I cannot laugh at the stupidity. I may have made some real big mistakes but you do indeed make the worst one look fine. like..............

[pankomako]

dude not me thinking about post-gang war arc gang's bay aughghgh the character design ideas i have are so GOOOODDD

[ilycosy]

giving luke head for the first time

“sorry i’ve never done this before” while he’s a moaning mess trying not to cum too quick 🫣

oo anon u absolutely cooked w this one ,,,, luke wld sooo b trying to last longer than he actually can as soonnn as u put ur mouth on him

luke my fav whiny boy <33

luke could feel everything before you even put your mouth on him, from the heat of your fingertips to the warm sensation of your lips against his stomach. his hands had gripped onto the bed under him, his teeth digging into the flesh of his lips to muffle any noise that might slip out.

his breath hitched before he released a shudder when he felt your hands sliding down his pants, taking his boxers and pants only down to his knees due to excitement— neither of you knew who was more excited at this point, him or you.

you pressed a soft kiss to his hip that had him huffing, whispering softly, "ive never done this before." he could've sworn that you were lying though with how seductive you looked up at him, as if you two weren't both eager teens exploring for the first time.

"s' okay," he whispered back, his hand coming to rest on the side of your face, gently rubbing your cheek with his thumb. "just take your time."

he felt almost instant regret when you smiled and licked a long stripe up him, from base to tip. he could've sworn that he could feel the stars— all his senses instantly heightened as he fought back the urge to buck his hips up into your mouth.

the urge got harder to control as time went on (it felt like hours to him, though it was only a couple minutes.) his once breathy pants turned into whines as his hips had to be held down, he only felt a little sorry about the couple times he made you gag.

his hips jutted out against your hands multiple times, progressively getting faster as he threw his head back— unable to keep eye contact now as the knot in his stomach begins unraveling. his whines becoming too loud that now he has to cover his mouth so people don't come looking for the source of noise.

you barely had a warning besides the curse to the gods and a sharp tug on your hair trying to pull you away, which you didn't. he whimpered against his hand and hid his face as he came, too embarrassed to see your face since he came with no warning.

"c'mon baby," you mumbled, running your hands up his thighs. your voice is rough from the abuse and you sound like you need to clear your throat, but he perks up nonetheless. "let'm see your face?"

[loganbcrnes]

Loved as I Am

Captain Price x female!reader

genre: fluff

words: 1,734

authors note: hey all. this is kinda a short one. its also personal. ive been dealing with body issues for most of my life, i rarely ever really saw rep when it came to these issues in fanfic, so i decided to just write something out. ive always liked to imagine my fav characters comforting me when i have insecurities. so i hope anyone reading, this may help a little.

Summary: reader is insecure about her body, struggles with not gaining enough weight, being underweight and having small breasts. Price comforts her. No ED is mentioned.

The numbers on the scale didn’t budge. Not even by a fraction of a pound.

You stared at the display, willing it to change, but reality remained the same. A sharp sigh left your lips as frustration bubbled up inside you. It wasn’t fair. You had been eating more, training hard, following all the right steps, and yet, here you were—stuck.

You stepped off the scale and avoided looking at your reflection in the mirror. The familiar wave of disappointment settled over you, tightening around your chest like a vice. The rest of your day went downhill from there. Your workouts felt sluggish, work dragged on, and by the time you got home, exhaustion clung to you like a second skin.

The comforting scent of something warm and hearty filled your apartment the moment you stepped inside. Your brows furrowed slightly, surprise momentarily pulling you from your storming thoughts.

“Thought you’d be home earlier,” Price’s familiar voice rumbled from the kitchen. “Kept dinner warm for you.”

You set your bag down and walked toward the source of his voice. There he stood, clad in his usual civilian wear—soft, worn-in clothes that made him seem even more inviting than usual. The sight of him should have brought you comfort, but the weight of your emotions made it hard to appreciate the warmth in his expression.

“Hey,” you murmured, attempting to force a smile but failing miserably.

Price’s sharp gaze settled on you, immediately picking up on your demeanor. He stepped forward, closing the space between you as he reached out to cup your face gently. His thumbs brushed along your cheekbones, his touch grounding. “What’s wrong, love?”

You hesitated, unsure if you should even voice your frustration. It felt silly, insignificant compared to the things you’d endured in the past. But the way he looked at you, patient and unwavering, made it impossible to brush it off.

“I checked the scale today,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I haven’t gained anything. Not a single pound.”

Understanding flickered across his face. He didn’t rush to respond, didn’t dismiss your feelings. Instead, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. You melted into his embrace, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“You’ve been working so damn hard,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “That number doesn’t define you. It never has.”

You buried your face against his chest, inhaling the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the lingering smokiness from whatever he had been cooking. “I just… I feel like I should be further along by now. I’ve been trying so hard, but it feels like I’m stuck.”

Price pulled back slightly, just enough to tilt your chin up so you could meet his gaze. “Listen to me, sweetheart. Your body’s been through hell. It’s not a machine. Progress isn’t just numbers on a scale.” His hand ran up and down your back, soothing. “I see the way you push yourself, how determined you are. That means more than any number ever could.”

Tears burned at the corners of your eyes, but you fought them back. “I just wanted to see some kind of change.”

“You are changing.” His voice was firm yet gentle. “You’re getting stronger. Healthier. And I love you just the way you are.”

A shaky breath left you as his words settled deep into your chest. “You really don’t care?”

He let out a low chuckle and cupped your face again, his rough thumbs tracing along your jawline. “Not one damn bit. You’re perfect to me, love. Always have been.”

You swallowed hard, eyes dropping to the floor as another wave of doubt crashed over you. “I just… I never feel good enough. I look at myself and all I see is someone who’s too skinny. No curves, no shape… my boobs are small, my hips don’t fill out clothes the way they should. I don’t look like—” You cut yourself off, shaking your head, ashamed of voicing it out loud.

Price’s hands tightened around you, firm but reassuring. “Don’t do that,” he murmured, voice low and steady. “Don’t compare yourself to some made-up idea of what you think you should be. You are good enough. More than enough. You don’t need curves or anything else to be beautiful.”

He tipped your chin up again, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes were filled with something so raw, so undeniably sincere, that it made your throat tighten. “You’re strong, resilient, and the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Not because of some bullshit beauty standard, but because you’re you.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, and Price caught it with his thumb. “You mean it?” you whispered.

“Every word, love,” he assured you. “You don’t need to change a damn thing for me.”

Your heart clenched at the sincerity in his voice. Slowly, a small smile ghosted over your lips. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

Price smirked, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “I’ve had a lot of practice.” He pulled you toward the couch, settling down and guiding you into his lap. His arms stayed securely around you, warmth radiating from his body. “Now, let’s sit here for a bit, yeah? Just us.”

You curled into him, letting the steady beat of his heart lull away the rest of your worries. He kissed the top of your head again, his fingers absentmindedly tracing soft patterns against your back.

“Love you, sweetheart,” he murmured against your hair.

A deep warmth spread through your chest, pushing away the weight of the day’s frustrations. “Love you too, John.”

And in that moment, with his arms wrapped around you and the quiet reassurance of his presence, you truly believed it.

[sschizoid]

Tulpar crew babysitting…

ive got you pookie ( ੭ ˘ ³˘)੭‎°｡⋆♡‧₊˚

--

curly

is so honored that he was chosen to be entrusted with the care of something as delicate as a baby. always wanted to be a dad, but never quite found the right person to settle down with. but doing this is kind of reigniting that old baby fever he thought he'd forgotten about all those years ago. maybe someday

loves to play, especially with his hands. peek-a-boo, patty-cake, and finger puppets are his go-tos, as he thinks teaching creativity and engaging the imagination through just means of your person can make for a healthy mind

singing is also something he loves to utilize, but he doesn't go for the predictable options like your ABCs or wheels on the bus. no, right now, he's got himself an audience, one that can't tell him to keep it down or that his music taste sucks, and he's going to take advantage of that. he's singing the beach boys

jimmy

would ideally never be in this situation to begin with. cannot fathom why anyone would think to trust him of all people to care for a baby when he can hardly even care for himself

if he does somehow get swept into it, whether it be by the will of god or some other foreign wind of change, he will do the absolute bare minimum. throws the kid in a playpen with some toys and sits back while enjoying some television. probably puts on some trashy animated show that's definitely not made for infants, but all they care about is the moving pictures and fun colors, right? everything else is subjective

texts every 45 minutes asking for updates on when parent(s) will be home, because he kind of has somewhere he needs to be in an hour (lie). also he dug around in the fridge a bit and ate some leftovers but re-positioned the remaining amount in the tupperware in an attempt to make it look like he didn't. also, he's getting paid for this, right?

anya

she's never really interacted with kids before, let alone a baby. she's trying to find a polite way to decline, but takes too long in trying to come up with an excuse and eventually just agrees

read a whole bunch of parent blogs 20 minutes before coming over so she could know what to expect. the only information she retained was that babies like to be talked to. she's professional and talks to them like she would a coworker at the watercooler. baby seems into it, though?

feeling confident after making the baby laugh, but she doesn't want to risk losing the progress she's made by trying something wacky. baby likes talking— maybe likes books, too? she brought her homework just in case she wanted to do some studying, and decides to read the articles from her textbook aloud. it works like a charm, though the baby falls asleep soon after. maybe the subject matter was too boring?

swansea

hell. no. he spent over a decade of his life combined dealing with rugrats, what makes you think he'd want to go back to that? he did his time and then some, his sentence is served

the only circumstance where he'd agree to babysit is if it were to do his own kids a favor. they're around that age, getting their lives together and starting families, so he could swallow his pride every now and then and play the role of "grandpa," for a bit. even if the title seemed unearned

but being a grandfather kind of makes him reflect. makes him realize he probably wasn't there for his kids nearly as often as he should have been. he wasn't a good father to them, not by any stretch of the imagination, but he's thankful they made out alright in the end. he feels a pang in his heart when he looks into the face of the baby and realizes it has his nose

daisuke

OF COURSE he'll babysit, are you kidding? he's always wanted a little sibling to instill his personality and interests into, and this, while not the perfect opportunity, was probably the next best thing

brings over all of his favorite toys from when he was a kid. hot wheels, tech decks, legos, the works. tries to teach the baby how to do a kickflip with the tech deck, but they keep trying to eat it. that's cool too, he can maybe understand the appeal. it kind of looks like an eclair if you squint really, really hard and hold it really, really far away

babysitting is also the perfect excuse to watch cartoons without the fear of being judged by boring people, so he's got that shit running the whole time. nothing too babyish (he wants to enjoy himself too, after all), but still has loads of bright colors and the occasional catchy musical number that will most certainly follow him home that night

--

hope these are sufficient ! if anyone else has any requests; my asks are open !! ⁽⁽ଘ( ˊωˋ )ଓ⁾⁾

.......i'm admittedly a bit backed up at the moment but rest assured I'm POWERING THROUGH YEAAAHHHH 💪

[cheeriecherrymain]

papa!Viktor blurb, anyone?

A/N: slowly, slowly, recovering from the creative drought ive been in

it's nowhere near a waterfall again, more like a frustrating dribble, BUT. It's something. But anyways, here is a Papa Viktor Thought Blurb (listen, my sister is almost three months old now, and I am so besotted with her, she's my favourite tiny person, and i am full of Caretaker Feelings)

Content Warning: 18+ MDNI (not explicit, but very very suggestive), afab!Reader, pregnancy, labour and birth (again, not explicit, but still with some depth), papa!Viktor, no beta no editing we simply die

Imagine Viktor, and him believing he'll be alone for his entire life - working so hard to make some kind of legacy for himself, putting everything he has into his creations and his machines. Every calculation, every experiment a labour of love.

This is how the world will remember his name.

At least, he hopes.

But then he meets you.

You're charming, he has to admit. You make friends wherever you go, and you have a weird habit of bringing people out of their shells. There's just...something about you that makes others want to bare their souls to you. Something that draws people in.

Like you have a tangible sort of gravity, and wherever you go, someone ends up in your orbit.

He won't mean much to you, he thinks, after conversing with you a couple times. You're creative, like he is, and you're enjoyable to talk to. But nothing more. Sooner or later, you'll continue on somewhere else, making waves and drawing attention. And in your wake, he will be left to sink. It's what expects.

Except...

You don't leave.

Your chats start out small. Short and sweet, a How are you today? wondered whenever you pass each other in the halls a couple times a month, curious about the goings-on of his life.

He never has anything interesting to tell you about. No adventures or tales to tell, nothing beyond the walls of a cramped and cluttered office.

You must be bored, he thinks.

But then you start seeking him out. Instead of just catching up for a couple minutes whenever you happen to walk past each other, you hunt him down in his office - and god, he wasn't lying when he'd told you it was cramped.

You're amazed he even has the space to think in there, with how tight it is. Yet you still shimmy yourself into the tiny room, careful not to disturb any piles of papers, and find a careful seat on a spot of open floor beside his desk. There's no room for a second chair, and you've always made it clear that you dislike standing when you're having a long conversation.

It's nice to sit down and rest somewhere together, you'd told him one time.

You grow closer after that. From seeing him a couple times a month, to a couple times a week, to literally every day. You don't seem to care that he never has anything 'exciting' to share with you, even going so far as to chastise him for calling himself uninteresting.

Your experiments are cool, you'd insisted, while leafing through one of his old journals. It's incredible to get to see how your mind works, and how creative and inventive you are. You have so many ideas, Viktor, and I really believe that they could help people.

Something changes in him, after that. He'd always been quieter around you, listening to your stories, and dutifully answering your questions: never quite letting you in.

Now he looks forward to seeing you.

His heart skips a beat every time he hears you knocking on his office door, a chipper little pattern reserved only for him. You know that he doesn't always like dealing with students after hours, so you'd come up with a way to let him know that it was you who was greeting him.

Things progress...surprisingly natural.

He's not subtle by any means, even if he thinks he is. The moment he realizes that he has feelings for you, all bets are off. His cheeks dust pink whenever you're around, his palms get sweaty and he fidgets, and the staring.

Looking at you with ill-contained admiration and affection.

You can't not kiss him.

You spend the next couple years having the time of your lives. Moving from classes and overbearing internships, to actively working on experiments. Collaborating with each other, drawing up ideas and debating functionality and form. The two of you get so heated when you're creating things together.

Neither of you are surprised when it devolves. Wide gestures and hasty chalkboard sketches, impassioned explanations and wild eyes - you bite your lip as you let your gaze trail over him, in all his dishevelled beauty. Hair a mess, tie crooked and loose, shirt partially unbuttoned, and sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Many nights are spent like that, cooped up in his little laboratory, surrounded by sketches and blueprints and scribbles and stray notes. His fingertips digging into the soft of your skin as he kisses the breath out of you. The rhythmic clunking of his crooked desk most telling, as he draws forth your little squeaks and sighs of delight.

Absolutely ruining you, filling you, stretching you open. Feeling the way you tremble in his hands, held tight to his slender body as he reaches so deep into you that you'll feel him for days.

Sinking his teeth into the side of your neck when he finds his own release - to stay quiet, he tells you. But you both know it's his way of marking you.

Claiming you.

You're his. You're his person, his love, his partner. Your eyes only ever shine the way they do when you look at him.

Your body, splayed out and spread before him, quivering and gasping and covered in a thin sheen of sweat - his.

Your taste, sweet on his tongue - your mouth, your skin, your arousal that drips out of you whenever he so much as looks at you.

His.

And he knows, without a single atom of doubt, that he's also yours. So entirely entangled with each other, neither of you knowing how you'd managed to exist separately before now.

How had you possibly found beauty in every day, when you'd never heard his voice? Never caught a whiff of his sweet shampoo as he ambled past you? Never felt the warmth of his touch, or the puff of his sighs on your cheek? Never known the tickle of his hair on your bare skin as you slowly woke every morning to find him curled around you, his face smashed into your back and soft snores emanating from him?

No matter, you think. You have him now, and that's what's important.

...until everything changes.

You miss a period.

You tell him about it.

You're both on edge, but he tries to remain optimistic. Cycles can be upset sometimes, he tells you, as if you don't already know. (You're certain he's really just trying to reassure himself.)

But deep down, you know.

You can feel it in the all-encompassing tiredness you wake with every morning. In the random bouts of nausea, and the sudden food aversions. The back aches, and all the sudden new smells you can detect.

You know something is amiss.

And he knows, too, when he finds you one time in the middle of the night. Standing in your shared little kitchen, in the dark, illuminated only by the light of the open refrigerator.

Pulling pickles straight out of the jar, dipping them in mayonnaise, and sinking your teeth into them. Like they were to most delectable thing you'd ever ingested.

You're both terrified, of course.

You're not really surprised that you've managed to fall pregnant - not with the way you two lust after each other practically every night, and sometimes in the morning. Maybe even once or twice in between meetings, when you're both squished together in his compact office.

Neither of you ever thought you'd become parents.

And certainly not right now.

But...you want this, you realize. You want this with him. You want a family with him, you want the evidence of your love - you want a future with him, and you want to see what beautiful little person you'll make together.

Would they have his eyes? Yours? He hopes they have your smile, he tells you, eventually.

It takes you by surprise, his words, what with how quiet he'd been since you'd both figured everything out. You'd been worrying that he wasn't really on board with keeping the baby - with being a father. And you hadn't blamed him, really.

You'd been beyond stressed at the idea of raising a child alone. The thought of him leaving you, leaving behind something so intrinsically tied to him, had been slowly breaking your heart. You hadn't wanted him to stay simply out of obligation - you know you wouldn't be able to cope with the eventual resentment that such an action would breed.

But to know for certain now that he'd only been anxious?

That he wanted this with you, and was excited?

You're so happy that you immediately burst into tears, squeaking and sniffling and snotting uncontrollably while Viktor bites back a laugh and herds you into his embrace. Stroking your back and murmuring the sweetest things to you while you try to catch your breath, leaving gentle kisses all over your face.

Telling you all about what kind of person he hoped your little one would be.

Your smile, most certainly, he said, resolute. You have the most beautiful smile. You light up the room wherever you go. Maybe your sense of humour, too. And certainly your compassion.

Your tears slowly began to lessen, as you let yourself be lulled by the comfort of his arms around you.

Your hair, though, you insist, smushing your face into his shirt. You look so pretty in the mornings, all fluffed up and in disarray. It's the cutest shit I've ever seen.

That garners a laugh from him.

I want them to have your eyes, as well, you admit, albeit somewhat shyly. I've never seen a colour like yours, so intense and complex. Way back when we first met, and you looked at me for the very first time? I almost lost the ability to breathe. It was...it was like I knew, right then. That you were the person I wanted to spend my life with.

He squeezes you a little bit tighter, stooping down to tenderly slot your lips together. Slow, lazy, intimate. Sharing breath and warmth and love and-

He takes you again.

Right there, in the dim quiet of his office, not seeming to care if anyone passing by in the hallway might hear you. Spoiling you absolutely rotten, speaking praises against your skin as he brings you over the edge again and again and again.

Pupils blown wide as he sinks his fingers into you, crooking them perfectly as to reach the spots he knows will drive you mad. The papers strewn around the room don't matter - they don't even cross his mind, as you wriggle and squirm and quiver and cry out for him.

How could they, when all he can focus on is the way you look when your body tenses up, another wave of ecstasy coursing through your veins, culminating in your lovely little noises, and the addicting feeling of your pleasure dripping down his fingers and over his palm, soaking him thoroughly.

He would be happy to have you like this, as frequently as you would let him.

He knows how sensitive you must be by now, not only from his ministrations, but also from the way your body is changing. He's done his fair amount of reading since discovering your pregnancy - he's aware of all the ways you might be feeling.

The hunger, the exhaustion, the aches and pains.

The all-encompassing, single-minded lust you might go through.

He's ready to please you, however you might want - his fingers, his mouth. And whenever you might want. You could wake him up in the middle of the night, for all he cares. You could nudge him from the sleep that he so desperately needs, and he'd ask not a single question besides What do you need, darling? How would you like me?

What he doesn't expect is his own desire.

You're beautiful. You always have been beautiful. Even as things change, he was absolutely certain that you would never stop being beautiful.

It's you, so of course he's going to want you.

But seeing you now, whining and looking at him like he's hung the moon in the sky, specifically for you? Your tummy already growing round with the life that you've made together, visible proof of your love? Desperate whimpers falling past your lips, begging him for more, for him to fill you up again and again and again?

He can't resist you.

Even when he starts to ache, and his arms start shaking, and his throat is raw and dry from breathing hard and calling out for you.

He can't resist you.

You're insatiable.

So is he.

He's a little more careful as the months progress. Manhandling you less, digging his fingers into the soft fat of your hips a little gentler. He's cognizant of how you're most comfortable, watching in awe as you tremble on top of him, grinding down on him and taking his entire length into you like you were made specifically for him.

Nearly every day, you beg for him.

He loves you.

And when the time eventually comes for you to waddle carefully into the labour centre, meeting your midwife along the way, Viktor tries to keep his worrying quiet. Tries to stay by your side as a supportive pillar, regardless of how well or not he might actually be able to hold you up.

Holding your hand, kissing your knuckles. Trading his fingers for a stress ball when you squeeze a little too hard (and then another stress ball, stronger this time, when the first one explodes in your fist after a couple minutes. It shocks both of you, but to his surprise, you start laughing).

He tenderly dabs the sweat off your forehead as the hours go by, keeping your hairs from pasting themselves to your face and neck. Staying nearby as a source of comfort, but not so close that you feel smothered by him - allowing you the space you need to wiggle around as you see fit.

Telling you stories to distract you, listening to your complaints and observations as his words become unable to mask the pain of your contractions. Doing his absolute best to bite back a fond grin as you breathlessly curse him for doing this to you.

I didn't mean it, you tell him, as soon as the words leave your mouth, your eyes wide and tearful with sorrow.

I know, he promises, leaning forward to press his lips to your dewy skin.

You sigh happily.

It's not for another couple hours that your baby finally decides to enter the world.

You're beyond exhausted, and Viktor is starting to get fidgety with his worry. Is it supposed to be taking this long? he wonders internally, keeping his questions to himself so as not to stress you out even more.

The midwives, to their credit, are incredibly skilled. Staying by your side throughout the whole process, carefully monitoring everything they need to in order to make sure you're healthy. That the baby is healthy. He knows that they would say something, if anything was truly wrong.

And when the little one finally arrives, she does so kicking and screaming, making an absolute ruckus in the quiet room. The door is shut tight, keeping the sounds of the busy establishment at bay, and the curtain is drawn for your privacy so no one can see in when the staff come and go.

But when your girl begins shouting her absolute displeasure into the air, Viktor swears he can hear some quiet clapping and cheering from the hallway. He doesn't know if it's for your success, or for something and someone else entirely - but for a moment, he likes to believe that there are some strangers out there who are happy for him.

They don't know his story, and they don't know yours - but they've heard a great cry from somewhere hidden and full of struggle. An all-encompassing wail that confirms the presence of life, shouting to the world I am here, I am alive, and I have absolutely no idea what's going on!

He doesn't know when the tears start trailing down his cheeks.

Perhaps it's when he first lays eyes on your girl, pink and cranky and a little bit squished. Putting up a fuss on your base chest, scrunching her little face up as you speak softly and tenderly to her.

Perhaps it's when one of the midwives hands him a very soft towel, instructing him on how to carefully pat away the blood and fluid still clinging to your child. His eyes growing wide when he oh so gently cleans her off to reveal more of her tiny features.

She's still new, and needs time to decompress (so to speak), but he stares at her with such rapture. Taking in every inch of her, burning her face into his mind so that he might never forget her. Ever.

She's still new, and yet he can already tell that she has your nose. And your lips. Your smile, he realizes, with a palpable joy spreading through his chest.

His tears eventually dry, if only so he's able to better see you and the newest member of your family. Laying kiss after kiss to whatever part of your skin he can reach. Stroking the tips of his fingers over your girl's hair - her tiny arms and shoulders, her chubby cheeks, the bridge of her nose and over her brows.

But some two hours later, when you're finally allowed to rest in your comfortable hospital bed: when your baby is now dry and fed and swaddled up happily in Viktor's arms?

The tears begin again.

Privately, in the dim of the room, while you snooze a couple feet away from him, he weeps. Silently, and without so much as a sniffle. He cannot stop the wetness that rolls down his face, even if he wanted to.

Your girl is finally relaxed, after her grand, dramatic entrance. On the edge of sleep, warm and with a full tummy, making funny little expression while she dozes.

Much to Viktor's delight, she has a head of fuzzy brown hair - dishevelled and sticking in every direction, not matter how the midwives had tried to tame it. It'll settle down in a few days, they'd promised. But he didn't care.

The wild mop on top of her head rivalled the chaos of his own. The same shade of chestnut, though perhaps less coarse in texture. Maybe it will grow to the same thickness eventually, he thinks, a fond smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as he imagines how much he's going to have to help her with it as she grows.

Brushing the inevitable tangles out with a soft brush. Pulling the strands back into braids so she can run around and play easier - or maybe little buns on the top of her head, he realizes, the image conjuring up in his mind.

All at once, pictures pop through his head, so vivid and bright that he can almost see them appearing in front of him.

Watching your daughter grow. Sleepless nights of taking care of her, catering to her every whim. Making sure she's fed, and comfortable - entertaining her with silly little toys that make silly little noises, bright colours painted across them. Reading her books with bright, enticing visuals for her to stare at, despite the fact that she doesn't know what words are.

Making trinkets for her as she gets a little older. Things that help her learn, but that also keep her excited and enticed, encouraging her exploration of the world around her. Teaching her to walk, by helping her strengthen her little legs. Sitting on a footstool, a wide smile on his face, as you hold her by her arms and support her as she figures out how to use her legs while upright. Leading her right over into his waiting arms.

Until she's able to balance on her own, after a number of weeks of practising together. Pushing herself up into a wobbly stance, doing her absolute best to try and balance. Maybe she stumbles a couple of times, but she's persistent -stubborn, like he is- and continuously rises back up until she's able to make it over to him on her own. Giggling and wiggling when he scoops her up and praises her and showers he in affection.

Teaching her about anything and everything, the bigger she gets. Answering every question she has, no matter how confusing or senseless - encouraging with his own suggestions, and prompting her to discover some answers for herself. Putting together little experiments for her, so they can learn together and so he can watch her eyes widen with the joy of new information.

Fixing her toys for her whenever they break, as she brings them to him with misty eyes and a wobbly bottom lip. Papa, it fell apart, she says sadly. To which he pulls her onto his lap, regardless of what work he was doing, and helps her repair the damage. Letting her watch and observe when she's still too small to hold a screwdriver, and carefully explaining things to her when her motor skills start to develop more.

And then helping her figure out in what way her toy broke, when she's a little bigger. Asking specific questions, so she can work to connect all the dots herself. Helping her gather the materials that she needs in order to fix things herself, and praising her to the high heavens when she presents the finished product to him.

The little thing is slightly lopsided, but he fully believes that it adds to its charm - tells her as such, when she sighs about it not being the same as before.

It's a little uneven, just like me, he says, with a laugh.

And, much to his complete shock, she wraps her little arms around him, and gives him her strongest possible squeeze.

It adds to your charm, she parrots back to him with complete honesty. I like you, Papa.

And once again, for the umpteenth time throughout his daughter's life, his eyes well with tears and he presses a kiss to the top of her head.

She could go anywhere she wanted, once she grew up. Learn anything, do anything, be anything. Perhaps she'd enjoy the sciences, like he does - machinery, and building, and designing, and inventing. Maybe she'd get into art, and spend her days painting or sketching, or writing, or making music - inspiring other people with the things she makes.

It doesn't matter, though. Because no matter what she ends up enjoying, or where she goes in her life, Viktor will support her with his entirety. Even when she grows all the way up, and inevitably leaves home to begin her own life, whatever that may be.

He knows he's going to cry then, too. So many years together, and yet it will still never be enough.

But for now, he sighs, staring adoringly down at the tiny infant in his arms. For now, they have time. He vows silently to never waste a single moment with her, and never pass up the opportunity to spend time with her. No matter how busy or frustrated or tired he gets, he won't let her grow up feeling unwanted or unloved or unimportant.

He'll give her a better life than he grew up with, and that is both a promise and a threat.

After all, he would do anything, for her.

His greatest creation.

[scart-t]

Truly madly deeply in love

characters: zayne x reader a/n: im currently addicted to love and deepspace!! i deffo reccomend this game

Zayne's cold and shy demeanor was evident as he monitored the machines in the hospital room. Y/n lay on the bed, still recovering from the surgery, and Zayne barely made eye contact as he adjusted the IV lines.

Y/n, noticing his distant attitude, tried to lighten the mood. "Zayne, thank you for saving my life. I guess being a Hunter isn't as invincible as I thought."

Zayne nodded without a smile, "It's my job. Nothing more, nothing less."

Y/n chuckled weakly, "You may be a brilliant surgeon, but you suck at cheering people up."

Zayne's lips twitched, almost forming a smile, but he quickly masked it. "I'm not here to entertain. Just focus on your recovery."

As days passed, Zayne continued to be the stoic doctor, never revealing the emotions that churned within him. When Y/n asked about her health, he spoke in clinical terms, avoiding any personal touch.

One evening, Y/n caught Zayne in a rare moment of vulnerability as he stared out the hospital window. "Zayne, are you okay?"

He hesitated before responding, "I'm fine. Just tired."

Y/n, realizing his reluctance to open up, decided to change the topic. "Remember when we used to sneak into old Mrs. Anderson's garden and steal apples? Good times."

Zayne's demeanor softened slightly. "Yeah, good times," he mumbled, his gaze finally meeting hers for a brief moment.

As Y/n's recovery progressed, Zayne's caring nature became more evident. He ensured she took her medication, followed her physical therapy, and monitored her progress diligently. Yet, he remained reserved, as if afraid to let his guard down completely.

One day, as Y/n was flipping through an old photo album, Zayne entered the room. She gestured for him to join her, "Look at this, Zayne. We were such troublemakers."

Zayne glanced at the pictures, a subtle warmth in his eyes. "Seems like a lifetime ago."

Y/n smiled, "But we made it through, didn't we? Like always."

Zayne nodded, "Yeah, we did."

It was during those quiet moments that Y/n began to see the caring side of Zayne beneath the cold exterior. As they reminisced about their childhood, she realized that his reserved nature was a shield, protecting a heart that cared deeply.

One evening, as the sun set outside the hospital window, Zayne found the courage to express his feelings. "Y/n, I… I care about you more than I show. I always have."

Y/n looked at him, surprised but touched. "Zayne, you don't have to be so guarded around me."

He sighed, "It's just how I am. But I need you to know that… you mean everything to me."

Y/n reached for his hand, "I've always known, Zayne. And I care about you too."

Their love story took a new turn as Zayne, still maintaining his cold and shy demeanor, continued to care for Y/n in his unique way.

[batateane]

usopp held the screwdriver he was using tightly. he closed his fist around it as hard as he could. he used all of his will to not throw it at the sea. he needed to calm down.

he was trying to upgrade nami's clima tact, but noticed he was just fidgeting with it for a while. he got frustrated and then angry, so angry he thought to just throw everything near him as far away as possible. he had been struggling the whole day and didn't know what to do.

usopp put down his tools, pushed them to the side and layed down on his back, closing his eyes as the warm sun touched his face. he started to think of all the things he's been running around doing, trying to make himself feel useful and thought how pathetic he felt.

he felt weak. he felt like all he could do wasn't enough. he felt tiny and unimportant. he felt like nothing he ever did helped any of his friends. he convinced himself they'd be better off if he wasn't there, taking up space. all of his tiny daily failures all of a sudden meant that he wasn't worth anybody's warmth.

he opened his eyes, observing the clouds. he thought about how much he hated himself for thinking like this and how much he wished he didn't believe any of it. he wanted to be useful so badly because he couldn't bear to be left alone again. he liked his friends and all he wanted was for them to like him just as much, but he doubted they could ever care about somebody like him. why should they?

the sky started changing colors. usopp watched as the clouds became pink and dark. he tried shutting his mind up. he had to keep going no matter what. so what if nami thinks he's annoying? so what if zoro thinks he's weak? so what if chopper finds him to be lame? so what if sanji doesn't respect him? and what if luffy forgets he exists? that doesn't change a thing. it won't change his admiration for them and it won't change his desire to stand strongly and proudly next to them, if they want him there or not. he was there.

usopp looked over to his side. luffy was taking a nap, peacefully. he's mind was still rushing. he sat up, stretched and go up quickly. he got the clima tact and walked over to hand it to nami.

"did you finish?" she took it, excited.

"no progress yet, sorry. but i'll work on it again tomorrow." he smiled a bit. seeing nami excited about it made his heart calm down a little.

"sure." she observed him, looking like she wanted to say something. "though, what exactly do you want to upgrade on it? it's good!"

"it can always be better." usopp smiled and nodded as he said it. he turned around and left before nami could say anything.

"well, thank you then!" she shouted, sounding playfully annoyed.

usopp smiled a little. he thought maybe he should stay around his crew mates and calm down his thoughts a bit by just being around them. but he decided he was going to lay down and sleep. he noticed he was exhausted. he was going to try again tomorrow.

hello! i wrote this because today has been hard... again. im feeling very disposable, like a nuisance. i wrote as usopp because, not only hes my favourite strawhat, he is the one i identify with the most. i was just self projecting onto him.

my computer screen broke and ive already had to spend so much on health these past few months. all these money expenses and pains and health problems and just problems in general make me too aware of my own existence and do not enjoy the realisation of it. i wish my friends could rely on me more often, that they felt safe to tell me anything, that i could help them and help my parents beyond just listening to them. i already bottle up so much i sincerely think and wish i could take all of their pain to myself. id suffer so that they can be happy and painless. but i can barely stand my own pain. id take their problems for myself in a heartbeat, but i dont know if they would take mine and if they did i wouldn't even want to put them through any of it. i feel so... like a trashbag my parents are forced to carry. they're the ones who have to deal with me the most and i dont even share a thing with them. i want to stop wishing to be better, i want to just be better.

edit: spelling.

[heaven--scent]

8 months on Estradiol!

ive very much slowed down on my sharing of my transition recently.

HRT IS STILL THE BEST CHOICE IVE EVER MADE.

I have however been very much struggling with some dysphoria, emotional drops, and the state of world politics. My councillor has recommended that on this blog I talk about my struggles as it may help others to see someone talk about it, and for me to vent.

First I want to talk about the great strides Ive recently made in my social transition. Biggest being that over the end of the year I came out to everyone at work, and began to use my chosen name and pronouns. This was so fucking scary but I'm glad I have done so and have had no pushback from any co-workers, only confusion and questions at worst.

I have also begun to exclusively dress femme and feel comfortable shopping in the woman's section. I also have made appointments for a hair stylist and eye test to help with changing my glasses and making my hair into a femme style rather than just long and unkempt. Which I hope will help me to look more femme in general.

Some noticed HRT effects since my last update include bigger boobs, firmer ass, and a change to the way my facial fat distributes from droopy like my dad's, to higher and firmer round my cheekbones like my mums.

I also find women specifically talking to me and actively including me or talking to me far more than anyone ever did before be they staff or customers.

this month also saw the first time I got called miss in a store followed by another staff member complimenting my nails <3 double whammy!

I also saved a guy's life at work and the footage looked epic

(TW) Negative shit below the cut

Despite making progress with social aspects of my transition I have had days and a whole week plagued with dysphoria seemingly personified now by my deadname. Working in customer service while trying to pass, I've found many default to calling me he\him\sir\man, likely as my voice doesn't pass despite the visible breast bumps of my bcup bra. While I attempt to practice voice training at work, I often need to make my voice heard by shouting and using a deeper register exacerbating the problem. While I'm sure they dont Intend to misgender, it leaves its wounds. It led to a week I couldn't bare to go in. Fortunately I have plenty of sick days to use.

The emotional drops I feel like are a result of the happiness I experience on average being higher, the low isn't any lower but the height difference makes the fall hurt more partly. I think this is also a factor of those second puberty hormones doing the teenager things they do best and dramatising everything in my life. I think also that I have stopped repressing my emotions in general for the first time since maybe pre puberty 1 and not having any coping strategies yet to be more likely than to imply that girls are more emotional than boys.

I don't need to explain the part about global politics. You understand.

My rock throughout this has been my girlfriend @averyishorny her love has helped me more than words can do justice. And I can't wait to meet her when her passport gets sorted out soon so we can have epic sesbian lex .

Don't let the bastards grind you down<3

[wanderingcritter]

The last couple days have been, rough to say the least. For me and many others across the nation.

As an American I would lying if I said I wasn't slightly terrified right now. I just watched the president of my country get up on national tv and declare that I do not exist ("male and female are the only recognized genders") and his side hoe do a full on nazi salute, among other horrendous and hate-fueled statements.

Im lucky enough to live in Washington state, where the governor has openly stated he will fight to defend my rights as a queer person and someone capable of becoming pregnant. But there isn't much that can be done about civilian actions. I think there's a bit of a misconception about Washington throughout a lot of the nation, that most of the people living there are progressive and blue, but that isn't entirely the case. Outside of Seattle and surrounding cities like Tacoma or Olympia there's a lot of rural or partially rural towns that predominantly lean Republican. If it wasn't for Seattle, Washington would likely be a red state. Not to dox myself, but I do not live in Seattle or particularly close to it. There are queer resource and nonprofit organizations where I live, as well as for other marginalized groups, but they've had a history of being vandalized or attacked and I fear that's only going to get worse in the coming weeks/months/years.

I am a pretty visibly queer person, from the way I dress, my hair, my body language. Ive never been very good at blending in even when I wanted to. If someone was looking for a queer individual to target I wouldn't be the worst option out there. I am not going back into the closet, I refuse to hide or suppress myself, trying to in the past has never worked and has only made me horribly unhappy. I am a lesbian, I am transgender, I have a uterus, I am alterhuman, and I am proud. I am going to continue baring my teeth, continue seeking gender affirming care, continue being part of my community. But it isn't going to be without fear. There's been a lot of writing on the walls lately that I don't like the look of and it's scary to think of what may happen going forward.

But I do know how important it is that we find ways to stick together now more than ever. America is speeding down the road to fascism. Do not let anyone convince you otherwise, because we are, and have been for a while. We desperately need to have each other's backs. Stay aware of what's going on, if you don't consider yourself to be political, GET FUCKING POLITICAL. Get involved in irl community as much as possible, make connections and find out how you can help others, mutual aid is based as fuck and something you should be participating in asap. Learn how to keep yourself safe, 2nd amendment applies to us too, if guns aren't your style there are plenty of other forms of self defense to choose from. To anyone who's outside of the U.S, help spread news you come across, whether it's about protests or laws being passed, and if you're able to be there to offer comfort to any of your American friends who are scared right now. We see you guys and appreciate you, as censorship here intensifies you're going to be an important lifeline for us.

To anyone who's feeling alone and hopeless, who's stuck in red states, living with unaccepting families, financially vulnerable, immigrants, and anyone else who is scared right now, you are seen and you are not forgotten about. Stay alive at all costs, fight like hell, do not let them erase you.

[swaglet]

.

today i sat on my therapists couch and cried into my hands like a little baby and i was like. i feel like i wasnt made to be in this world. i know nobody was [air quotes] "made" to be in this world and everyone has their own struggles and im not the most uniquely befallen person on this earth but it just seems like everyone else has some clue of what makes them happy and what makes them sad and what they can handle and what they cant handle and what they WANT to handle and what will make handling things worth it. but i still can barely take care of myself every day and i dont know why. going to the hospital didnt fix that and my meds dont fix that and it seems like theres not any kind of help that can help me. i feel broken in a way that cant be fixed especially since i and everyone around me have all been trying for so long and ive made little if any progress at all. and then she asked me if i feel alone and if i feel like theres nobody who really understands quite what my life is like and that made me cry even more like a big fat baby. and then she asked me, if there was a type of help that was designed specifically for me, what would it look like. and i didnt know how to answer because ive never thought of that before. so i was honest and told her id never thought of that before. it has been baked into my mind that i am not allowed to ask for help even if somebody offers and i am especially not allowed to have any help that is specifically tailored for me because then that would make me a burden and a deficit. i don't feel that way about other people and i really don't even feel that way about myself i just don't have any particular feelings towards myself at all i just am a vessel for what my parents feel towards me and it's a lot of evil things. just the thought of being asked "what would help specifically for you look like" made me sick to my stomach

[thewindencrestroyals]

Side Quests

ive been on a little side quest lol, creating a commemorative statue of HM Queen Victoria II who as of 2024 is not alive. This statue (in progress) was commisioned by HM Queen Anastasia and unveiled on Her late Majesties death anniversary. i am very excited to be making more for those of my descendant royals who have tombs and such for eg Queen Elizabeth I Tomb has a statue of her. However this took ages to make, somewhat like two days to import and export the files lmao and as of 5 minutes ago the texturer which ive roughly added some shadows as you can see, if anyone needs help creating there own feel free to message me i have some helpful tutorials and i wouldnt suggest doing this if you have a lower end pc, my vertices ended up being 101353! and the poly 136192! bare in mind im using very high poly cc aswell such as the brooches on the sash and the diadem aswell as the custom hair i made. aka if you do try this use low poly items and if they are to be statues i wouldnt stress about textures as youll have to readd the facial shadows and such anyways.

Update : soo its been no time and i have an update lol. ive managed to make the texture more relaistic to the queen. my tip when doing this would be to grab your stone texture and the sim template you should have after 'ripping ur sim'. take your stone texture and make it the same size as your template, i used Procreate for this but you can use photoshop etc (any program u can do these steps in will work just save as png) and then add your template(sim texture) over the stone texture and turn the opacity of it down to your liking and merge the layers making sure to keep your template on top (the less opacity the more prominant the original texture) then save and import it in s4studio and hit save again and ur good to go after putting the package in ur mods folder.

God Save The Queen!

[chopprface]

giggling to myself knowing ive infected a small amount of the beast wars fandom with my dinocharge (depthcharge/dinobot) brainworms so here we go

depthcharge starting out very skeptical of dinobot’s allegiance to the group even despite the other maximals sharing stories with depthcharge on the rare occasion where he decides to socialize with them.

BIG BIG MASSIVE spoilers for both depthcharge and dinobot's arcs coming up, id advise finishing beast wars before diving into this cause otherwise youre going to be so lost. /srs

they’d avoid eachother at first until theyre completely cut off from the rest of the maximals and are forced to work together, similar to the episode where rampage is introduced and blackarachnia and silverbolt start getting closer (possibly replacing them in that episode?). more arguing and less cooperation with each other, but they come out of it with an odd amount of trust in each other now that they’ve gotten out of a tough scenario together.

with the tension between them cleared for the most part, dinobot gets depth charge to open up about his information on rampage, thinking that getting firsthand experiences from someone who oversaw his containment might help them find a weakness to eliminate a major threat like rampage.

depth charge's initial distrust is replaced by a surprising amount of transparency, possibly because he feels he failed his fellow maximals and can no longer relate to them as he let them down on omicron. something about their similar feelings of lacking belonging among the other maximals (at least initially) draws him to dinobot.

both dinobot and depth charge lie in that odd middle ground where they don't feel like they don't belong with the maximals no matter how much their colleagues insist they do, but fight with them regardless. they have their different reasons for fighting, depth charge wanting to take revenge for omicron by killing rampage and dinobot's reasons slowly shifting over time as his priorities and the scope of his goals change. (i could make a whole post purely about dinobots development and goals changing as his arc progresses, alas this is about the both of them so i'll stop here.)

depth charge slowly starts coming to dinobot more and more as their pool of info on rampage expands with new battles with the predacon, though eventually they run into dead ends and reflect about their lives back on cybertron- something barely anyone on the axalon has time to do anymore with megatron growing increasingly aggressive. the two of them develop a very quiet romance together, talking late into the hours of the night. dinobot gets depth charge well and truly out of his cold shell, having allowed him to see through his obsession with rampage to the bots around him who care about him.

a few of the other maximals notice the change, of course. mainly primal, who gets in a comment or two about how depth charge seems to finally be moving on a bit from omicron, with pieces of his personality before rampage came into his life seeming to shine through occasionally.

they'd both be very standoffish about being affectionate around the other maximals, to the point where none of the others are truly aware how close they are. they're both sad old men who bottle everything aside from their anger up, and wouldn't fess up about their own feelings unless it was literally tortured out of them. this is particularly true for depth charge, as in the show he never really goes into detail on omicron, perhaps due to his guilt around being the only survivor.

the events of what depth charge saw on omicron after rampage's massacre were probably supposed to be expanded upon in the show, but depth charge probably didnt have any time dedicated to that because of how late into the show he was introduced. at least, that's how i imagine it to have gone considering other characters like tigerhawk who were nearly cut last minute but made it into the show for toy sales. either way the vagueness of what happened on omicron and how it effects depthcharge is truly up to interpretation by the fandom as i doubt we'll get anything close to an answer any time soon. as i imagine it, and lining up with how the show characterizes him, id like to think his survivors guilt makes it hard to talk about his own thoughts on omicron, though he's regurgitated the events of what happened enough for it to be ingrained in his brain module forever. (maybe ill write a whole ass post about this too who knows)

i think if depth charge had been around much earlier in the series and and had been allowed to build a relationship like this with dinobot in the 90s, code of hero would have made the most gut-wrenching angst ever, especially if rampage had had a much bigger impact on dinobot's death.

depth charge is there to see the only bot who'd gotten him to talk about omicron truthfully die, taking whatever thoughts and memories depth charge had shared with him to the last flicker of his spark without so much as a parting word about what depth charge had meant to him.

rampage- still functioning, of course, can practically see and feel the feast of emotion tearing through to the weakest flickers of the manta ray's spark, even blasted halfway across the valley where dinobot had made his last stand. these feelings were something he hadn't experienced since the first time he'd seen depth charge after omicron.

depth charge, a few cycles after code of hero and still reeling from the loss of dinobot, ends up in battle with rampage, his spark still aching and tinged with grief. Rampage, now the only one to know what dinobot had meant to him, is shamelessly gloating about having killed the *one* bot he'd been able to get close to after omicron, mocking depth charge just to see how it makes him tick.

despite all his anger, he comes back to the maximals seeming no more than merely frustrated at the fact he's yet again failed to kill rampage, though over time he begins to withdraw from the others, totally regressing back to where he had started as an uncooperative mess, utterly obsessed with killing the one person who's taken everything from him. its only when depth charge completely relapses into his obsession that dinobot's impact on him becomes well and truly obvious, but by the time that happens there's little any of them can do to stop him from completely self destructing. only he can do that for himself by killing rampage.

anyway now that i've given you all with a brief glimpse into my sick and twisted doomed yaoi mind i'll leave you with the tags

[ejudollz]

hi bunny!! just gonna do a little rant session here cause idk what to do and i'm BAWLLING MY EYES OUT so basically i feel like i'm slipping out cause i did not enroll to my supposed program for college and i'm at a different college program and i feel like i'm wasting time here cause idk what to do and everyone around me is pursuing their programs while i'm stuck in town and wanna kms for it cause this doesn't give me any opportunity to grow mentally and physically and i'm just being drained because this makes me feel that i don't have any plans for my future even though i have but because i'm not enrolled to the program that i want which is supposedly the first thing on how i should build my future just makes my situation worse :((

hi bby :(( i feel this so bad because ive had sooo many horrible situations like this. my best friend just got her degree and im still barely solidified on if i even want to stick with my current program. i have switched colleges about 3 times now and am gonna switch again in the fall and have done soooo many different programs/degrees so trust me i really really understand. what i can say is make the best of the situation you're in, sure it's not the program you wanted but let it do something for you. learn as much as you can, apply whatever you learn to SOMETHING, we're both very very VERY fortunate to be going to school and to learn. i don't wanna be that person that's like "you should be grateful blah blah blah" cuz that changes and helps nothing, however it's better to look at what your current position CAN do for you and not what it isn't.

your future and your progress and your path is exactly that, it's YOURS!! you make it what you want it to be and make things work how you want it to work. sure life throws it's curve balls but again, allow it to work for you in some way. even if you learn one piece of information, it's expanding your knowledge and growing you as a person. your path and your progress and how you make it/how long it takes is your own thing. we live with so many expectations about what we should do and when and we have all these predetermined expectations of what should happen at what age but guess what? that's all man-made,, our path and our timing is all so different and we should allow that to be the case.

you have your plan and it didn't work out, i personally know what i want to do but have no way of achieving that currently so im making the most of what i have. i would LOVE to be in esthetician or massage school but can't possibly make that work for me so im getting a psychology degree and while it's not what i absolutely want, i have this whole plan of what i would love to have but sadly it's not realistic for me. the key is to grow in other ways, advance in other ways. sure i don't necessarily "want" this psychology degree but i know it will benefit me, no matter how much i want to be doing something else. find smaller ways to make things perfect for you, it will be okay i promise <3. you're doing amazing, it's a hugeeeee success that you even know what program you do want! im so sorry it didn't work out for you but im proud of you anyways!! i hope something i said here resonates with you and i hope things work out and that things turn out better than you could ever expect :(( im here for you if you need anything else or wanna chat/rant!!

[gabapentinblues]

6.20.2025

still processing the breakdown i had last night. im tired of just living in the wake of these completely overwhelming suicidal feelings. i have a headache from crying so much and a completely empty, defeated feeling in my chest.

my friends are like trying to be supportive and help me but it all feels so intangible. i feel like i have no idea how to take care of myself, and the feeling of wanting to die just gets so huge that i dont know what to do. its completely debilitating and like i just have to keep living like i dont deal with this on a regular basis. its insane. it makes me angry.

im drinking my coffee. my one friend that i thought was mad at me isnt, we talked about some stuff and things are fine. i feel guilty for being suicidal all the time and i feel like im not going to be emotionally able to actually date someone.

i guess im still going to try at least for a little bit. we're going on a date on wednesday but im not totally sure what we're going to do or what i want to do. i just picture myself leaving at the end and being really sad and empty and like why even go through with it at all idk. i just dont know what anyone wants from me.

i feel like i just need to turn all my emotions off and be a zombie. i wish that i could. i have a horrible headache and im feeling really down and pessimistic and like i have no idea what to do with my day. i've talked to my friends a bit and i really feel like i have nothing else to say. i dont know what i need.

i dont feel like im going to be able to build any kind of meaningful relationship with anyone because im too messed up and too far removed from everything. i already feel things building up rn like im on the verge of another spiral and i'll be breaking down again by the end of the day. i have no idea how to make it through this day.

im drinking my coffee and by the time that runs out im aimless and have nothing to anchor me at all. i put my laundry away yesterday which was incredibly triggering and upsetting, so was calling to check on that job. those were both things that needed to get done but i could barely handle doing either one of them honestly.

im tempted to take an edible just to give my brain something to do but i know that then id just be high with nothing to do and it wouldnt really change anything.

i could clean up my desk and work on some art or some writing today. maybe i could watch a movie. in a few hours i can take a nap which i do feel like i'll be able to do. i feel really mentally and emotionally exhausted today. i truly feel like i have nothing to give. i feel like a failure. i feel like there's no reason for me to stay alive. i feel disconnected from everything.

eventually im going to stop trying to fix this and make sense of it and get through it. eventually im going to give up. ive made plans of how i'd kill myself before and i just feel myself getting closer and closer to that.

i feel like i dont even try to help myself, like everything i do is just actively making all of it worse. i hate therapy i dont know how to work on things and make progress. i dont know what to talk to my therapist about.

the only thing i care about right now honestly is just not eating and getting smaller. thats all i want. i want to be small again even though i know it wont fix anything.

i have no idea how im going to get through this. everything is unbearable. i still feel the exact same way i felt last night only im just trying to go numb to it instead of react to it. id rather just be completely numb. more than anything id rather be dead but i get tired of saying that over and over.

thats how i feel though. no intrest in anything. no idea how to improve things. just feeling like im trapped behind glass and im not even allowed to end the pain i just have to keep enduring it so everyone can look at me from the other side of the glass and feel better.

so yeah idk, im feeling a little triggered rn, a little bit like i need to cry and like i really want to sh, and idk how to get through it. im the only one experiencing it so im the only one who can deal with it. i could stretch and like go walk around. that might help. i could also take a shower. i just feel so pathetic. these all feel like things i can barely handle.

idk how to work my way through this, nothing feels helpful. i have three hours technically before i can sleep, so i could eat something and walk around and shower. idk i really dont want to do any of that. maybe i'll work on my writing. idk if i even want to watch anything. nothing feels like enough of an escape.

maybe i'll take an edible and try to like organize some things.

i just feel so disregulated all the time and i have no idea how to get a grip. its awful.