#she transitioned and got fatter

[ahcoffeebeans2]

war is over (if you want it)

[gor3sigil]

What being trans means to me

I love being trans. I love transitioning. The thing is, most of the time, I read about other trans people experiences. And I just can’t relate.

I have plenty of tattoos and piercings, and if I have to be 100% honest with y’all, I see transitioning like a bodmod. To me, getting top surgery was one, as I wanted to at least get my nipples removed before I even knew top surgery was an option.

I see HRT as much as a bodmod. A few years back, I wasn’t so sure I even wanted HRT, but after thinking it through and doing a lot of research, I decided to do it. And I never looked back. I’m close to 2 years on T, which isn’t a lot, and I don’t even know if I plan to stay on T for very long, maybe I’ll stop at some point. Who knows.

It goes hand in hand with the everlasting identity crisis I’ve been having since I was born, basically. I was a different person before, and she was so tired, so she left the body to some dude, and he got tired, and they fused, and it was me, and I’m in a trans body, I’m trans, I take T like I paint my nails, I take T like a cigarette, I take T like a hot bath. It’s comforting, it makes me feel good, it makes me feel at home in this body.

I got surgery because I wanted my silhouette to be mine. I changed my name because since I was little, and that’s the only point for which I can say confidently I knew since I was a kid, I never understood why we couldn’t name ourselves. To me, a name was so intimate, so personal, that I couldn’t understand why it had to be someone else’s choice. So I took a new one and changed it.

And now I look at myself in the miror and I’m Cyan, and I got a flat chest, and I have a deep voice, and I’ll do my T shot on friday just like I do every 14 days since almost 2 years, with the same pleasure, with the same smile on my face, the same rush I ever have when I’m excited for my shot.

Close to the feeling I get when I get a new piercing, when I up the size of my lobes, when I feel the first tingles of the needles that tattoo me.

I didn’t “always knew” I was trans. I remember being a kid with a shit ton of OCs, and names for myself that I couldn’t choose, and whose dream was to live a thousand lives before I died. I don’t know who I will be in 3 years. Or in 6 months.

It says on a letter that I suffer from gender dysphoria, and by all means it was true before top surgery. Not so much now. I still am insecure about my body a lot of times because there’s some things missing to my chara design and I am fatter IRL lmao, but with this body I cum, I eat good food, I get drunk, I smoke, I feel hot and fresh water, I swim, I sing, I write this. Even when it’s half broken and it’s raining and my joints ache and I feel like I’m already old, I love this body. I’m not the type of people who will be like “your body is a temple, you HAVE to exercise and eat only fresh veggies” because if I have to be here let me at least have fun. I take care of myself though, maybe not as much as I should, but the best I can.

If I hadn’t overcome everything I did in my life, maybe I wouldn’t have transitioned. Or maybe I would. I don’t care. I don’t need a reason, and neither do you.

This is what I mean when I say that everyone should do whatever the fuck they want because, I wasn’t born trans, or at least I don’t think so. But does it make my transition less valid ? No. I’m better in my skin that ever, even when the low self esteem hits, and I know I would feel way less good if I hadn’t transition. That’s all that matters.

[livlaughlove07]

FLOATING DOWN AISLE NINE

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64255396

Tags: Slow Burn, inconsistent updates, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Shane's Six-Heart Event (Stardew Valley), Internalized Acephobia, Asexual Relationship, Nonbinary Character, Homophobia, Misgendering, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Joja Mart AU, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Unreliable Narrator, Suicide, Meta, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim References, Video & Computer Games, characters playing Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, mr qi rules over everything, Wordcount: Over 20.000

Chapter Two (Farmer POV)

*Spring 5, Year 1*

Well, at least they now have a few parsnips to their name. Actually, Lucien got a few things under their belt. Some old fisherman gave them a fishing rod. Apparently, Willy and them got to Pelican Town on the same day. Some fishing trip, or something.

Lucien was secretly super grateful for the rod. Even small fish make bank, and it’s really helped keep them afloat while they wait for their crops to grow. Also, totally transition goals to be the dude on Tinder with a fat bass and an even fatter smile. Like there was Tinder out here, but still. They actually tried it, but the closest person to them was like an hour away, and Lucien is not THAT desperate. Yet.

Okay, give them some slack. They’d tried out in Zuzu, but work was always so demanding, and by that point, Lucien had used up all their energy to care about anything. Sure, it’s unfortunate. But at least they turned out fine.

And now they’re away from Joja. For good. So maybe they’ll get back out on the scene. That blond guy is pretty cute. Sam, right? Here’s hoping he’s not homophobic or something. Probably is. Whatever. Lucien can do this.

One thing they’ve been dreading ever since arriving here was coming out to everyone. Like, it's pretty obvious that they’re some flavor of queer. Non-binary, biromantic, asexual, and emotionally unavailable? Yeah, they’re not gonna make it in this small ass town. Not going to make it in the dating scene, and not going to make it socially.

Maybe that wild guy had it right. Linus, that’s his name, he had the right idea. Camp out on the outskirts, and nothing had to happen. Nothing bad could happen if they never put themself in a situation to be hurt.

— — — — —

Today’s a Friday, so that means it’s finally bar day. Lucien got a few people off of the ‘To be met list’, but there’s just some stragglers that aren’t around town that much. Hopefully they’ll be at what little bar scene there is here.

Really, it’s just a few stragglers. Some dudes named Sebastian and Shane. And one chick Leah. So far, the town hasn’t been too bad. Like, the older villagers definitely weren’t happy about this new hooligan moving into town. The old guy, George, immediately clocked them and proceeded to use the wrong pronouns. Impressive, if it wasn’t so degrading. Jodi, the blond guy's mom, was friendly enough but she had those homophobic vibes too.

However, the younger crowd seemed pretty chill. Lucien really liked Abigail's vibe immediately. Especially their bright purple hair. It’s so pretty, and it looked freshly dyed. They need to be friends, right now.

Abigail also has that vaguely queer vibe. Like, something about them silently screams on the spectrum. Not to stereotype, but they’re definitely stereotyping them right now. Maybe this means that Lucien can fit in. As long as Abigail likes them. Hoping and #praying.

Lucien had to go to the general store to get more seeds today too. So naturally, they stopped by and talked to Abigail on the way out. This time, Lucien was determined to ask their pronouns. Maybe it’d be a little signaling to them that Lucien was also on the spectrum. Maybe they were thinking too much about it.

Calmly, Lucien walked up to Abigail, who was hanging lazily looking at some of Pierre’s stock. Pierre had some good quality stuff, but the price point was high too. Abigail is the daughter of the store owner, Pierre, and his wife Caroline.

“Uh, hey,” Lucien says, with a slight tremble in their voice.

Abigail immediately perks up, “Oh hey, Lucien, right?”

“Yeah, hi. Are you going to the saloon tonight?” they ask.

“We're all going to hang out in the saloon this evening. It's kind of like a Friday tradition, I guess,” Abigail shrugs.

“This may sound stupid, but who’s we?”

“Oh, I forgot you’re new. It’s Sam, Seb, and I. I hang on the couch while they play 8-ball. Sam always loses. Have you met either of them yet?”

“Uh, Sam’s the blond one with the cool hair, right? And I’m pretty sure I haven’t met Sebastian.”

“Yeah… Seb doesn’t really like getting out as much, but he can’t turn down beating Sam. Sam does have dope hair, but the cost of the gel has to override the coolness at some point.”

This made Lucien chuckle a bit, showing a bit of their tongue piercing.

Abigail immediately picks up on this, “Oh my god, you have a tongue piercing? Lemme see, that’s so cool! I want one so desperately, but my parents won’t let me get one until I move out.”

Lucien blushes a bit, “Ha, yeah. I need to take it out though. The people here keep staring at it…”

“What? No, bro, don’t let them get to you. They’re just not used to new people. One thing I've learned living here... everyone stares at you if you look different.”

“I’ll live either way. Also, I just wanted to say I love your hair. It’s so pretty and vibrant.”

Reflexively, Abigail touches their hair, swirling it around a finger, “Thank you! It should start fading anytime soon, I dyed it like a month ago…”

“If you teach me your secrets, maybe I’ll dye my hair too,” Lucien offers.

Abigail’s eye immediately perked up, “Ooh, a green would look fantastic on you. There’s no real secret to my hair, I just dyed it and I’ve been using the same shampoo as before. Honestly, my roots should be massive by now.”

“Damn, lucky. Well, I should start getting back to my chores. Oh, by the way, what are your pronouns?”

Abigail blushes a bit before scanning Lucien up and down with their eyes.

“Uh… I don’t really know, to be honest. Probably just she/her for now. It’s easier than facing whatever this is,” she says while motioning to herself awkwardly, “I completely forgot to ask you about yours. What do you use?”

“They/them for the most part. And I know what you mean; been there, done that. I’ll see you around though.”

“Yeah, of course, don’t mean to hold you up. You should totally hang out with us tonight! I think Sam would love to hang with you! See ya!”

“I’ll keep it in mind, see ya!”

Well, that’s a promising start. That went so well. Usually, she’s kinda grumpy, but not in a mean way. More like she woke up too early and is still waking up way. Makes sense, seeing as Lucien gets to the store as soon as it opens up. Despite that, they got invited to a friend group! And they came out to someone! And they were accepted!

This is looking better now. Maybe this little town has space in it for Lucien.

— — — — —

After finishing a day of fishing, Lucien was ready to go to the saloon. They went down and sold the fish to Willy to pad their pockets even more. Truely, they didn’t know what to expect. Either this is gonna be a chill scene with a few drinks, or getting flat out krunk. Abigail had invited them, but they weren’t able to figure out how it was gonna be.

Once Lucien arrived, they saw that almost the whole town was here. Lewis and Marnie were chatting on the left, Robin and Demetrius were dancing to the right. Pierre and Harvey were sitting silently at the bar, sipping something. Elliot was talking to another ginger, who they could only presume was Leah. Pam was already sloshed, pointing to the bartender for another round. Emily was cleaning glasses, visibly rocking out to the music.

Lucien met Leah, said hello to Elliot, and made their way to the game room. Abigail sprung up from her seat and walked to their side.

“Lucien! This is the man, the myth, the legend, Sebastian. And you know Sam, but here he is anyway. Guys, this is Lucien. They’re my new friend, and I told them that they could join us tonight,” She says, gesturing vaguely to each of them.

Sebastian looks up from the pool table and says, “Oh. You just moved in, right? Cool.”

“Yeah, I’m at the farm now,” Lucien offers awkwardly.

“Out of all the places you could live, you chose Pelican Town?” he asks, with a slight sting in his tone.

Lucien can feel themself getting hotter under this interrogation, “Uh, more like inherited it, but uhh yeah, just kinda ended up here.”

Abigail immediately steps in once she realizes Lucien’s uncomfortableness, “It’s promising land, and hard work! The town’s excited to see it flourish again. Maybe this time it’ll be run by a less homophobic asshole-”

Lucien relaxes a bit, “Heh, yeah. He was… a character to say the least. Anyways, Imma go grab a drink. Y’all want one?”

“Ooh, yeah I’ll come with. Emily makes the best Dirty Cranberry Candies. So good. You HAVE to try one,” Abigail suggests, grabbing Lucien’s arm while starting towards the door.

Sam mumbles a request at Abigail, and then both Lucien and Abigail leave for the bar. Lucien instinctively heads towards the closest part of the bar. But before they got to it, Abigail grabbed their arm and pulled them to the longer, further away part of the bar. Instead of questioning it, they went with it, deciding that she knew best when it came to bar etiquette here.

She ordered three Cranberry Candies, one for her, two for Lucien, and one espresso martini for Sam. Sebastian apparently hates it when other people buy him drinks, so he’s on his own for this one. Whatever. He kinda freaked Lucien out. So intense, for no reason.

But, if they wanted to join the friend group, Sebastian had to like them. So Lucien will put up with it. They also can have a cold exterior sometimes. They knew how it went.

Lucien hung out with Abigail on the couches while Sebastian and Sam played pool. Unsurprisingly, Sam lost. Again. Sebastian did a celebratory arm pump, but then looked up at Lucien and stopped. Whatever. Not like it made Lucien feel like the odd one out. But it did.

*Spring 5, Year 1 (Shane’s POV)*

It’s Friday. Again. Shane hated Fridays. Morris got on his ass more. He got yelled at more by Claire, the cashier. Then he went to the Saloon. While he’ll never turn down an opportunity to drink, he prefers to do it in solace.

Fridays were everything but solace. The entire town felt the need to show up to the Saloon and be the most obnoxious fucking people on earth. Especially the three freaks in the game room. Especially Stupid Sam and his Stupid Friends. While they play stupid games and giggle stupidly.

Stupid Sam’s friends were also his bandmates. Of his stupid little nobody band. Of course, Sam had to be the lead singer. Duh. Stupid Sam would combust without attention.

Shane recognizes that his anger toward Sam is just jealousy. Shane recognizes it, but it doesn’t make it any less worse. He hates him. But Sam loves trying to be his friend. He’s probably just making fun of Shane to his stupid little posse. They probably love making fun of the town fuck up.

Not like Shane cares. Not like he could do anything about it. What was he supposed to do? Ask them nicely to stop? Tell them that it wasn’t true at that time? That he didn’t mean it?

Fat fucking chance. Not like he could anyways. He’s gotten better. He doesn’t need to apologize for anything. What he said was true.

While Shane was busy ruminating on these thoughts and nursing a beer, the farmer walked into the bar. He barely noticed them. At least, until they walked right by him and into the game room.

Goddamn it. Another idiot for the idiot group. Ugh. At least they didn’t talk with Sam as much. Mostly just Abigail, who was the least idiotic out of the bunch of clowns. Doesn’t make them any less insufferable.

Whatever. As long as they don’t talk to him, he doesn’t care. Sam probably already wept on their shoulder, telling them about what happened. They probably hate him. They probably think he’s so jaded and mean. They’re probably going to spread the news. Ugh.

Shane fucking hates them. He knows he hates them.

— — — — —

Around 11 pm, Shane starts seriously sipping on his final beer. He’s also trying to remember if he has enough to tip. He drank more than he normally does.

Probably because he’s trying to ignore the laughs coming from the game room. This new farmer is really getting Abigail going. She’s almost doubled over, crying and laughing. Good for her. Maybe she’ll stop leading that Sebastian on. Maybe now he can work on his shit attitude. Not like he could judge, but he did.

And at least this farmer is actually kinda cute. Unlike moody stupid Sebastian. Honestly, Abigail upgraded. Good for her. At least someone in this town has game.

Something blurred past his vision, snapping him out of these thoughts. It’s the new farmer. Goddamn it.

They stumbled closer to Shane and slurred, “Hey, who are youu??”

Gruffly, he responded, “I don't know you. Why are you talking to me?”

They wobbled, “You’re so alone. Why? Join the fun, man. C’monnnn. I know you’re a party animal under all this,” gesturing up and down at Shane.

“Why are you bothering me? I want to be alone,” he responds curtly. His shoulders tense up, trying to offer any sort of protection right now.

“C’monnnnn. There’s no way a guy like you doesn’t want to join us. It’s party timeeeeee!”

Bristling, Shane repeats, “What do you want? Leave me alone.”

“Ugh, fine. Be like that then. I didn’t want to talk to a sad mopey middle aged man anyways,” they said, turning on their heels, wobbling.

Shane finished off the rest of his beer, fished 5 G from his wallet, left it under his glass, and left. Who even was that? Ugh. Hopefully he won’t remember this tomorrow. That was…odd to say the least.

He called it though. He knew that Sam had already gotten them in their little ‘I hate Shane’ club. He knew it. It hasn’t even been a week and they’re getting another person to make fun of him. That’s gotta be a record somewhere.

Whatever. Not like he cared. He did everything he could. It’s up to them to forgive him now. Not his problem.

He started to leave the Saloon, until he heard someone yelling at him to wait up. Ugh. It’s the farmer. Again.

Fists clenched, he barks, “You again? How many times do I have to tell you to leave me alone?”

“You never told me to leave you alone for the nighttttt. I’m backkkkk. Where ya goingggg?” they asked, stumbling from side to side.

Shane didn’t budge, “I hardly know you. Why are you talking to me?”

“Exactly that reason. I wanna know youuuuu.”

“I’m going home. Leave me alone. Forever.”

“Noooooo, I can’t do that. I’m going home too.”

Shane failed to suppress a tiny smirk, “With a half finished drink in your hand?”

They looked down at their hand, almost spilling their drink in the process, “Duhhhh. Got one for the road.”

The smirk vanishes, and he rolls his eyes instead, “Whatever. Go home.”

“I’m trying. You’re in the way. You go home.”

Shane uses this as an opportunity to attempt a speed walk home. However, the stupid farmer pulls on his sleeve from behind, interrupting him.

Shane turns around, enraged, “What do you want from me? Money? I'd give you a pot of gold to leave me alone!”

Their face twists from an aloof stupid ass smile to something close to anger. They dumped the rest of the Dirty Cranberry Candy down Shane’s chest in response.

Now extremely sticky and cold, Shane decides to just turn around. No use in trying to fight an angry drunk while also drunk. This infuriates the farmer, who starts yelling at him. Incoherent yelling, but yelling nonetheless.

Shane can hear the Saloon door open again. Vague angry drunk chatter between the farmer and Abigail is exchanged, but Shane walks away before he can catch any of the words.

Whatever. They’re stupider than Sam now. Stupid Farmer, Stupid Sam, Stupid Sebastian, and Slightly Less Stupid Abigail. Clowns, all of them.

<-prev|next->

[wintrecat]

if I don't let myself post sketches im never gonna post again. oc transition timelines (zoe she/her and marie she/he)

[ID: a four-stage transition timeline of an Asian girl with tan skin and dark eyes. the drawing has sketchy lines and rough color.

in the first drawing, she has long dark hair and is wearing a gray hoodie. she has her arms crossed over her chest and looks uncomfortable. the drawing cuts off above her waist. this drawing is labeled "12 y/o, hasn't realized yet."

in the second drawing, she has short hair dyed bright orange, with the dark roots visible. she is wearing a gray hoodie open over a lavender shirt. she has her arms bent by her sides and looks uncertain. the drawing cuts off a bit lower, still above her waist. this drawing is labeled "16 y/o, just started E, not super confident but trying to fake it."

in the third drawing, she has shoulder length hair dyed auburn, some eye makeup, and is wearing a cropped purple shirt and skirt. she now has visible breasts. she has her arms straight by her sides and looks uncomfortable. the drawing cuts off a little below her waist. this drawing is labeled "19 y/o, 3 yrs E, realizing she kinda doesn't like dressing fem but scared to do anything about it."

in the last drawing, she has short dark hair with the side shaved and is wearing a white tank top and jeans. she is standing confidently with her arms open by her sides, and she is smiling. her breasts are larger and her nipples are slightly visible through the shirt. the drawing cuts off a little below her waist. this drawing is labeled "21 y/o, 6 yrs E, butchification." end ID]

[ID: a five stage transition timeline of a white, fat bigender person. the drawing is sketched in green lines with no color underneath.

in the first drawing, she looks happy, and is wearing a t shirt and skirt. she's holding her arms slightly away from her sides. she has chin length hair. she has visible breasts. this is captioned "12 y/o, got challenged to wear green for a year. agreed."

in the second drawing, she looks concerned, and is wearing the same outfit. her hair is slightly longer. this is captioned "14 y/o, bisexual realization."

in the third drawing, she looks uncertain. she is now wearing an open button-up shirt with dinosaurs on it and another shirt underneath, as well as pants. she also has dinosaur earrings. this is captioned "18 y/o, getting really into shapes and patterns. also she might be a boy too???"

in the fourth drawing, he looks happy and has short hair. he is wearing a buttoned up shirt and a skirt. his chest is bound flat. he also is slightly fatter than before. this is captioned "20 y/o, first T shot."

in the last drawing, he is smiling widely. his hair is slightly longer than before. he is wearing a cropped shirt, and pants with a sheer skirt on top. his chest is unbound, and he has hair visible on his belly as well as a little facial hair. he is slightly fatter than in the previous drawing. this is captioned "21 y/o, bearification underway!" end ID]

[thecheckeredchaser]

A Summer Job

Ch 10

(Chapter 11 of 11)

Next Chapter

Jason had enjoyed his summer more than he could have imagined. He certainly had not expected to get linked up with a girl like Rosalita. He loved going to work, and getting to be adored daily. Over the past month he had gained another 20lbs, between his newly regular saturday dinner date at Mrs. Garcia’s and his own mother completely conceding to her son’s apparent demolished metabolism. She baked more than she used to and was no longer dissuading her son from taking seconds. He would even push for thirds if he thought he could shower her in enough compliments. He had been taking an interest in cooking, learning as much as he could from both women. 

Rita was competing with most invested in his gains with all their followers. It seemed to exponentially blow up. At first they had some 40 odd followers, but at over a thousand, Jason questioned if there were that many people who cared about his belly. The patreon account said they did. Rita was able to fix her car up, and thankfully got the AC taken care of, with the donations and subs. 

Jason leaned against the outdoor counter, waiting for a customer to roll up. Moe came over and smiled at him. “Look who it is. King of the Summer.” Moe had been calling him that recently, after Moe noticed multiple Burger King bags, stuffed in his backseat. Jason was usually better about keeping his car clean, but Rita made the transition from the car far more pressing. He had added something about being chosen by “Queen Rita”, so Jason thought it was in good fun. 

“I’m gonna miss hanging out here,” Jason admitted with a sigh. 

“It’ll be boring without you. Maybe next summer, I’ll get the new girl.”

“Didn’t you date 5 girls this summer?” Moe appeared to be thinking, and then nodded in realization.

“You’re right. I didn’t do too bad. So what’s the plan with you two?” Jason was caught off guard by the question. Did they need a plan? Cole had walked over, which was surprising because he had been evading a 10 foot radius of Jason since he’d had the dick to try to say something to him.

“I guess we haven’t talked about it.” Jason looked over at Cole, and greeted him with a flick of his brows. 

“What’s up? Rita breaking up with hurricane Jason yet?” Jason and Moe shared a look, which made Jason feel like he was officially in the ‘cool guys’ circle. The two had talked multiple times about Cole’s little man energy and clear jealousy. 

“Why has she been sneaking you into the mop closet confessing her love for you yet,” Moe said snidely. Cole let it roll off, as he pined for Moe’s approval over his desire to ridicule Jason or cry over Rita. 

Cole laughed, “I’m just saying, Jason. The Tarot cards are down. You are definitely getting fatter, the summer is ending, and you’re going back to school. She just got her own wheels too. Does she really need her big boy toy anymore?” Jason turned his brows up at him. 

“I don’t know about all that,” Jason retorted.

“Which part?” Cole attempted to belittle him. Jason figured all was true except her not needing him. Moe gave a look that showed he was considering those very facts when he started the conversation. 

“Rita and I are doing great. Not that it’s really any of your business,” he sneered at Cole.

“She might want to cut you loose. Maybe you’re starting to be a bad influence on her,” he said. Jason spun his head in the smaller boy's direction. He felt flames swelling behind his eyes. Moe looked crossed up about it too. 

“What’s that?” he said. Cole could attempt to roast him everyday, for all the fucks Jason gave, but he wasn’t going to let him openly discuss Rita in any way.

“You’ve done it now,” Moe said, taking a step back to watch from a less messy place. Cole swallowed hard, looking nervous that this was not earning him any points with anyone. Jason pushed his chest firmly.

“I’m just saying, she looks like she’s been-,” he looked into the pits of Jason’s pupil’s and quickly looked over his shoulder at the approaching young woman. “Having a great summer,” he finished. Jason glowered at him and Cole ran off before Rita got there. Jason put an arm around her, pushing her into his body, which brought him some comfort to his disgruntled mood. 

“What’s wrong with you,” she said, sensing his tightness. “Are you hungry or something?” she asked. Moe chuckled and Rita smiled, not intending to expose Jason like that. 

“Nothing. I’m good.” His thumb ran over her thickening side. Chichos, she called it. She hadn’t gotten fat by any means, but maybe he finally achieved the chubby girlfriend as prophesized. Jason really enjoyed how he could pinch her little roll with his whole hand. She wasn't stuffing as much as he was, but eating irresponsibly for sure. He had no complaints. It made his blood boil to think that Cole felt justified in saying anything about his girlfriend’s body, especially with the attitude he had. Moe walked over to the objective MILF who pulled up. Jason sighed and turned to Rita.

“Nothing is never nothing Jasey.”

“Should we be talking about what’s going to happen when I go back to school?” Jason asked, rubbing his belly, realizing he was a little hungry and clocking Rita’s gaze on his hand.

“What do you mean?” she said shiftily. He looked at her a little funny, not sure what that look was about. 

“I’m gonna be away. I don’t know if you're into a long distance relationship. It can be a killer, I hear.”

“Let’s figure this out later. I don’t want to stress that right now,” she said quickly. He respected her wish to table the topic, but did not stop stressing it. He was in fact more stressed than before. Rita later shared that she was going to have to skip their hang out after work, she had some non specific stuff to do. He was a little disappointed, as he was looking forward to stuffing himself as the “King of Summer” and enjoying a belly rub from her. He decided to go by himself anyway, as his hunger was not something he could freely ignore anymore. He had felt a little embarrassed when he noticed Moe was following him into the drive thru. Jason hoped it wasn’t obvious how much he was ordering at the window, and blushed when they handed him more than one bag. He pulled into the side of the parking lot. If Moe was on his way out from the window he might not even notice Jason parked. Unfortunately, Moe circled the building and pulled right up to Jason’s car and began rolling the window down. 

“Great minds, huh?” Moe said, cheersing his whopper towards Jason, who returned the gesture. 

“I didn’t even think you ate fast food,” Jason admitted, feeling a little uncomfortable with the quantity that sat next to him. He wasn’t going to be able to go in on the items like he’d normally do, not with Moe around. 

“I’m just a regular guy,” Moe stated, like a famous person might. “I’m happy to have run into you. I was wondering how that conversation with you and Rita ended up.”

“Why, you planning your snipe?” Jason half joked. 

“King? This is Maurice,” he called to him. “No. I just heard her on the phone with her mom. Sounded kind of intense.” Jason had been there, but Rita conveniently had the conversation in Spanish. The only information she gave him was that Maribel was annoying. 

“What were they saying?” Jason asked, eagerly. Moe sucked on his lip a second. 

“She didn’t tell you?” he hesitated. Jason shook his head. A smile snuck onto Moe’s face, which confused Jason even more. 

“Listen dude. I’m sure everything will turn out fine.”

“Glad for you. I had been thinking the same until you brought something up this morning.” Moe shrugged guiltily. He finished his burger and tossed the crumpled wrapper at Jason’s head. 

“You gotta stress less. Just enjoy your BK buffet. Chill out and call her later.” Jason offered his least worried smile, only slightly red from his friend’s acknowledgement of his intended overindulgence. “I gotta take a girl out,” he said with a wink, and coolly pulled off, signaling peace with a careless hand. 

Jason proceeded to binge eat the food sitting next to him. All throughout, he was running himself through a cycle of Rita was planning to break it off with him, followed by insistence that it couldn’t happen. Maybe they were just a summer fling. He would be so disappointed if that were the case. He was excited to tell his dormmate that he’d gotten a girlfriend over the summer. But he obviously couldn’t have more of Rita’s time than she was willing to give him. He couldn’t imagine she would let down all their fans like that. He didn’t doubt that there would be some other fat guy that could slide into his spot, probably filling it out more. Jason sighed. He wasn’t even sure what he’d do with himself without her. Would he keep gaining? He thought without Rita, fawning over him, it could get a little depressing. He continued to cram food into his mouth, even though he was getting uncomfortably full. He felt up until he was tossed out, any gains he made were for Rita. Was that too simpy? Probably. He chugged the large drink and let a massive belch grog out of him. He felt himself vibrating, and thought he had just been turned on, but he realized his phone had been ringing. It was Rita. He swallowed and picked up.

“Hey,” he said, nervous and practically too full to speak. 

“You wanna come over?” she asked. He could hear her positive mood and was half put at ease. The other half of him wondered if she could truly be so cunning to be so cheery before decapitating him. He agreed and headed over. 

He pulled up in front of her house and uneasily turned the engine off. “Good luck Chub,” he muttered to himself. He adjusted his shorts and t-shirt. Maybe she’d let him go just before he had to go up to a 2x. That was nice of her at least. He tried not to assume the worst, but was feeling his inner doomer resurface. Clearly she was an anomaly. He hadn’t even known girls into fat guys rolled so deep. He really thought this girl just fell into his lap and was about his body, hardcore? Not only that, her literal fetish was what he just so happened to be exploring on his own. In his life story, getting an education would be the exact demise he’d face. 

He tried to shake it off. He could be wrong. Right? Maybe Rita didn’t care about distance. He could come home on the weekends. They could keep making content. He could at least reach his goal. But then he started worrying that she had tired of him. Maybe he wasn’t carrying the weight the way she’d expected, or he wasn’t reaching some unspoken mile markers and goals. He didn’t know what went on in her head sometimes. He expected she held back some of her deepest and darkest desires. He didn’t dare to start imagining those. Diving off that island made easier by Mrs. Garcia opening her door, inviting him inside. He’d assumed Rita had been inside but found she wasn’t. He had become reminded of how full his stomach already was when he saw an array of fried foods on racks, fresh out the oil. 

“It is my precious Jason,” she sang, returning to her stove. 

“Hey, Mrs. Garcia. How have you been?”

“Not this good all day,” she said with a wink. “I saw you pull up and knew you’d love to try some of what I’m cooking up.” Jason sighed and prepared his denial of her offer. “And I know you would never go out of your way to offend me by saying no,” she said sweetly but firmly. 

“I can do super small samples. I did just eat plenty,” he shared. She fanned his protest to the side, as if someone his size couldn’t reach a state of fullness. He was willing to let the sentiment go, but made a quick face at the back of her head. “Empanadia, beef and pizza, and papas rellenas. Jason found chewing was a great way to put his stress aside. She was continuing to fry more, playing her loud music. He subtly burped under the sounds in the room, feeling super packed by the time the empanadas were gone, which the ‘dia’ implied a smaller size of which was not present. He managed to relocate the needed the room to try the newest of the items to him. He was surprised to find a mashed potato like inside, stuffed with beef and cheese. The closest thing he could compare it to was a pierogi, but that was so far off. He groaned at the greasy ball, complimenting her enthusiastically. 

“You want another one,” she said boastfully planting the thought in his head. He felt like he’d be pushing the limit, and even if she didn’t know he was beyond stuffed, he was. Yet, he did want to try that again.

“Would it offend you if I took it to go. I just need some time.” He put an attending hand to his belly, trying to make it clear he was not in a state to eat it presently. He wondered if she was noticing how he was filling his shirt out more. Her sharp eyes seemed to notice. 

“I will make you a container,” she said, smiling warmly. 

Jason thanked her deeply and walked out with his container pushing into his gut. He prepared to open the door to Rita's apartment, but felt an earth shaking burp coming. He put his fist to his lips, and the door swung open. Rita appeared impressed by his hoggishness. Jason couldn’t help but feel embarrassed by the display. She stepped out the way and he straggled inside. 

“What? They send pigs pre stuffed now?” she said, laughing and hugging him, pulling away with her hands still on his big belly. He oozed into her touch, despite his anxieties. “Let’s get you horizontal.” She ushered him upstairs, whisking the container to the kitchen and pinching at his thick butt as he slowly lumbered up. He laid down and looked over at Rita, who observed him, beyond astounded. “What happened to you, Jasey,” her words fluttered against all the worrying he’d done.

“I went to Burger King. A little crazily,” he said, meeting her eyes. She licked her lips. “Then I didn’t make it here without stopping next door first.” She grimaced on his behalf. 

“Poor belly’s probably killing you,” she purred. “Kind of perfect that you’re here now though.” She started rubbing his bloated gut and pushing the gas out of him. 

“I’m so stuffed,” he groaned. “Wasn’t exactly, grwaaap, the plan,” he said, with a whimper. Rita twitched. The sounds Jason made drove her wild. “I’ve been a little worried about us?” The glee on Rita’s face drained instantly. 

“What do you mean ‘us’?” Rita’s hand stopped grazing his belly, and he wished it hadn’t. 

“We never finished talking at work. I just have been freaking out about it.”

“Oh no. You were stress eating over that. I didn’t want to send you into a frenzy. I mean, I’d be lying if I wasn’t into the results,” she said, resuming her caress. He sighed. He was feeling so loved and cared for that he couldn’t imagine that his concerns had been rational. “I wanted to be sure everything was squared away, before I told you.”Jason stared at her curiously. What was she talking about? She lovingly kissed his belly, and momentarily shook with excitement. “I’m going!”

“Where?”

“Southern State, with you. I got accepted into their nursing program. My credits are transferring and everything.” Jason couldn’t believe what he was hearing. 

“You’re going to school with me? Like, this semester?”

“Yes Jason,” she said, swatting his chest. “What did you think was going to happen?” He shook his head not wanting to relive it. 

“A bunch of dumb shit,” he said.

Rose did not miss the opportunity to give her Chub a gentle and soothing belly rub, and to share the moments with her fans in an impromptu live. Jason did not need to act, as the sounds he was making were all his natural response to Rose’s prodding fingers. 

“Chub is really starting to look, act, and sound like a real pig these days.” She patted his belly, shifting out a low burp. “His belly is getting so big and extra jiggly. I could never compete,” she said, pinching her tummy. “Look how much more it hangs over.” She lifted his gut, eliciting a moan from Jason. “Did that hurt,” she checked in, concerned.

“No. It feels great. I’m absolutely packed.” A smile flashed on her face and he grinned back. “What?”

“Let’s get you up on the scale.” Jason protested, feeling like he’d just started to feel comfortably uncomfortable. But when he saw her pouting lips and the hope in her eyes, he found the energy contagious. 

“Fine.” Rose ran and returned with the instrument. She was so excited she couldn’t even MC the event. She zeroed the scale and stepped back, giving his belly a little squeeze for good luck. Jason almost held his breath, not sure what to expect. It had been maybe a week or two since he had last checked. He uselessly glanced over his belly, as he was not really in the state to be maneuvering around himself like that. Instead he looked at Rose’s face, and felt himself get very excited. “What does it say?” She was kissing his lips, hard. After a brief dispensing of steam, she pulled away. 

“Chub you are 277,” she announced, beaming. Jason was struck by the number. He had done it? Like it was absolutely nothing. He was surprised by how proud he felt. 

“Do I look it?” he teased. Rita purred.

“You are beyond sexy chub.”

“You wouldn’t be turned on by a huge fat pig like me,” he jested. 

“I think I gotta go prove a hog wrong, everyone. Catch you in the next one!” she snorted, and cut the feed, throwing the phone across the room. 

She pushed him onto his back, desperate, but gentle. She lay beside him and nipped at his neck, then chest, and finally his belly. He felt himself surge with arousal. Rita began stroking his fully erect cock, nuzzling her nose into his belly and her other hand tracing the stretch marks on his side. Jason writhed under all her touches. Her fingers danced over him and he felt entirely worshiped. He couldn’t help but notice her face pushing into the top of his belly. Something about it felt amazing to him. It made him feel a little extra powerful. He shifted his weight and his lower belly was pressing firmly onto her face. He heard her moan into his soft body and felt her grip on him tighten. Where had her hand gone? She shifted her hips and he was sure she was touching herself. He was enjoying how amazing everything to stop just laying back like a fat blob. He was surely a fat lazy pig, even in the sack. That thought should not have made him hotter, but it did. Jason’s head was swarming. He was absolutely stuffed, and on the brink of finishing, with his fat obsessed girlfriend's face digging into his belly. He felt her nuzzle deeper into him and couldn’t stop his hand from grabbing the back of her head. Through gritted teeth and urgent breaths he said, “You like this fat belly so much. You’re such a dirty girl for this big pig huh?” He couldn’t stop himself from finishing onto his thigh. Rita was right behind him screaming into his flabby belly, air bubbles flubbering out from the pocket she had been in. She pulled her face out of him when her multiple orgasms had finished, gasping. Jason cleaned himself up and staggered back to her bed. 

“Holy fuck,” she exclaimed.

“Right back at you,” he said, still trying to get his faculties back. She curled up to him and sighed, fully satisfied. 

“Well you know what this means don’t you?” She looked at him with those large innocent but devious eyes. The same eyes that had flirted with him so persistently just months ago. The brown eyes that flashed in his mind after he dropped her off, pulling him to the drive through, just by making one comment on their first day of meeting. “Don’t eat too much.” He’d eaten beyond too much, many evenings this summer, and the damage was apparent. He’d need to go back to school shopping and was sure Rita would want to be part of that. He savored the feelings of her delicate fingers on his protruding belly, wondering if he’d ever be so light again in his life. “Hmm?” she pressed. 

“Sorry,” he murmured, dreamily. “What does this mean?���  

“I’m going to need a new screen name,” she said, giving him a pinch. “Chub.” As usual she was right. 

“What do you think of RoselikesRolls375?” he suggested.

“We’ve got work to do,” she said with a wink.

**Author's Note**

Thank you for reading and making it this far! If you have any feedback please comment or dm me. I have some other stories I want to post, but it is work putting up these longer works. Guilty of overwriting. If there's interest , I'll post more.

[beatrixst0nehill]

"I'd say this is my best glow up yet, wouldn't you? I started transitioning as soon as I got to college and my mom was overjoyed. She couldn't wait to see me and kept asking for updates and when I'll be home..... I told her I was studying abroad in Italy. Eventually I became a model, and she ate up everything. She begged to see more pictures, even asking to see pictures of me naked, which was a bit odd but we were always close. I continued modeling, and she got even antsier. She asked to see my cock when I was out and about. Telling me to take a selfie of myself jerking it, no matter where I was. I had to pull over or duck behind something and show it to her. 'Let mommy see that cock, sweetheart,' she'd text me.

As college neared its end, she kept telling me how much she couldn't wait to see me, how many big surprises she had in store. I was a bit concerned by what she meant.... To my shock, I get home and the cabinets/refrigerator are full of weight gain shakes, ice cream, pastries, pies, tubs of lard. I immediately blushed when I looked through it all. Shyly, I turned to her, asking, 'This is all for me, isn't it?'

'How'd my baby girl guess?' she said.

'You.... want me to get fat? But why?'

'Because seeing you balloon up like some prized cow is my dream. I've always wanted a daughter I can fatten up. Now I have one. You wouldn't deprive your mama of her biggest dream, would you?'

I shook my head like a good daughter. 'No, mama. But how fat are you trying to get me?'

She lifted my chin, looked into my eyes, smiling, and said, 'Now you don't need to go concerning yourself with that. You let mama decide when you're big enough, sugarplum.'

That was two years ago. I'm 500lbs and I barely leave my room. My mom does everything for me, changes me, feeds me, helps me use the bathroom, insisting I do it right where I am so she can clean me, so I get used to going whenever I want, like any other immobile girl. I'm not immobile yet but she's training me to be very quickly. My doctor is overjoyed to see me get so fat, telling me I'm one of his favorite trans girls he's ever treated. He thinks my transition is particularly womanly.... and he wants to see me grow much fatter still. Mama loves taking care of me, she even pleasures me now, since it's getting really hard to masturbate on my own, since my belly is so big! I miss being a sexy girl dancing in clubs, getting fucked by hot Italian guys as they jerk me off..... but somehow mama sucking my cock or jerking me as I stuff my formerly beautiful, now bloated and fattening face with cake and fast food is so much more arousing for me. When I'm really good, I get to suckle on her breasts as she massages my belly and cock, making me cum over and over until I fall to sleep.... Guess I'm just really submissive and turned on by being helpless and cared for. I can't wait to be immobile for real, and get as fat as mama's always dreamed!"

[the-acid-pear]

I dreamt with this Danganronpa game except it wasn't really Danganronpa, in any way. Sure there was ONE Danganronpa character that being Bandai (from Mirai Hen) but then it was filled w misc characters from non existent dr games. One was very cool to there were this group of young girls but I selected specifically one that was this purple and black glowing rock alien who was I insist a little girl like middle school or some shit but was kinda ripped by virtue of being made of rock I guess and her flavor text said something about her not giving a fuck.

I guess it's worth mentioning that the point of this game was to accuse someone but at fucking random I guess, or with what you already knew of the characters. I remember clicking on Bandai for this reason, who btw was notably ooc bc how on edge he was, and the flavour text shamed me like "are you going to accuse him when he didn't even get to read his letter?". But nothing else that is notable happened here.

This did transition to this blonde anime boy who had showed up earlier who has this weird blocky stylized hair and his lower jaw was like caved in but not consistently, kept glitching in and out, like a doll being inflated and deflated. He was talking to this girl who I also think was blonde, but blonder, longer hair too, and he explained that apparently the baras (his word) had beaten him up and that was why he had his face like that but it was ok and kinda was like so um wanna go out with me? And she agreed.

And here's a funny part because they went into this big futbol field and it seems like in my dream universe there was this argentine meme that came from an Instagram post of two futbol players back to back all romantic and one had a t-shirt with a 4 (no clue if this is a number used in futbol I don't like the sport) and like it was captioned like 4(for) MI PUTO ❤️ and so now these guys from the team were giving out umbrellas 4 tu puto and I guess diversity won bc they gave it to this seemingly straight couple. Being someone's puto goes beyond gender I guess.

After that the dream got a bit dark tho, and it's shorter because I forgot details, but I was watching this documentary about this horror movie's creator who apparently had developed schizophrenia and while at first it was manageable it was slowly consuming him. The narrator explained he was specifically terrified of these "evil orbs" that lives inside his closet. One remarkable shot was our guy sculpting or looking down at this sculpture (like one of those paintings with 3D elements) of an unicorn in a setting akin to the one from the birth of Venus, with such colors and vibe. But the before beautiful and peaceful sculpture was now infected by these evil balls, spreading all over the lower right corner of the frame, crawling up the horse's leg.

After this I walked away from the documentary but I was like "haha just like me except balls instead of liquid" and as I stepped closer to my desktop I saw it covered in this bleeding, dripping, darkness. My chair was barely visible on it. I thought for a second of my oc Shira, but I'm unsure what that meant. Maybe she too is terrified of these liquids? Might be canon. I have no idea if it was tangible or dream me was genuinely aware of it being just a hallucination, but I was still scared enough to not go closer, instead diverting my attention to my cat Vito, who was now nothing like him. Short dirty hair, even fatter, big circular face, and had an eye patch. I don't know how I reached this assumption but I was sure he too was schizophrenic and I got very stressed because I guess I didn't want my cat to be as miserable as he was at the moment (his movement was also Weird his neck twisted almost like a human one).

I stopped freaking out when I looked out the window, previously covered by the dark liquid and saw daylight and I was like Right it's 7 pm it's too early to freak out! And the clock did say 19:01 and then I just woke up.

[ararexic]

// heavy vent. sorry about this.

i hate myself so much. i can’t ever find something redeeming regarding my appearance.

no part of my body is beautiful. my thighs are full of fat, my stomach still protrudes out of my torso, my arms are still squishy. my skin is a canvas full of stretch marks; i break a little inside every time i have to see them.

i never had a pretty face. i was told from the age of seven years old to watch my figure. i was told for years on end to eat less, watch what i eat, stop eating, or that i should lose weight. i grew up with an unhealthy relationship with food. i grew up with an unhealthy obsession with my body and how it was supposed to look. i would eat mass amounts of food until i was fifteen, when i was told i needed to lose weight by my doctor. it was then that i began transitioning to the other side of the spectrum. i began skipping meals and eating less. by december i had developed a restrictive eating disorder entirely.

by march of this year i had lost over 30 pounds already. i skipped meals more often than when i started and i constantly counted my calories. i plateaued. i tried anything to get myself out of my plateau. i hated maintaining the same few pounds. my self esteem was at its lowest. i felt so defeated that i couldn’t lose weight. nothing i did would make me lose weight.

in early august i went back to my doctor. she told me to lose more weight. she told me that from here on out i would probably just get fatter, though she said it more politely. i told my sister later that i didn’t like the way my doctor announced that i should lose weight. my sister got upset saying that she was just doing her job, and that maybe i should listen to her. i realized then that people still think i’m fat. i started school a week after that day. at the end of the week i took a chance and decided to weigh myself. i lost weight.

i was overjoyed by my weight loss. months of maintaining and i finally lost weight. however, i am still not happy with myself.

i want to be able to notice my weight loss. i’ve seen photos where i was at my highest weight and i felt sick after seeing them. i don’t ever want to be that weight ever again.

i want to be thin so i can feel validated. for years no one thought my body was good enough. i just want to be seen as skinny by everyone around me. i want to be loved romantically. no one ever really liked me. i’m sick and tired of being the family member who’s always been bigger than everyone else. despite my wide stature i was never as thin as my sister or my cousins. i envied them my entire life.

i was never good enough. nothing i did was ever good enough. i don’t think anything i do ever will be good enough. i will never be okay.

[ineffablefool]

Hi! I love your work so much, and I really really hope it's okay to ask this question. You say that the stories you write use the TV!verse personalities and visuals of the characters (but with fat!Aziraphale obviously), I was wondering if the same goes for Anathema and Liz in INNW? Like do you picture Liz as being the Jack Whitehall version, if she was a woman? I'm not working that very well but I hope it makes sense. Sorry if that's a bad thing to ask. I love your stories, they brighten me up!!

This is an okay question to ask!  The short answer is that in my mental images of INNW characters, everyone looks basically like their TVverse selves.  Aziraphale is the Michael Sheen version except fatter.  Crowley is the David Tennant version except with features slightly skewed toward what’s more common with an estrogen-based bodyplan (smaller hands, less prominent brow).

With Liz, it’s like... imagine that there existed someone who grew up looking exactly like Jack Whitehall, but then realized at some point that actually the doctors made a mistake and she wasn’t a boy at all.  That is Liz.  She’s prrrobably been on HRT for a long time now, same as Crowley’s been on T, but any “she’s a not-medically-transitioned trans woman just like me” headcanons which might be out there are precious and not to be messed with.  She might or might not have gotten facial feminization surgery at some point, same as Crowley got top surgery -- again, I don’t have any need to come down on one side or another when Both Is Good Dot Gif.  (There is nothing wrong with not going on T, either, or with not getting top surgery -- I have not done either.  But I did make a decision on those for Crowley.)

Everyone else looks the same as on TV other than being a couple of years older, which wouldn’t really make a difference except for the kids. [Edit! Correction! I should not answer asks late at night. Also different is that Anathema and Liz are both Crowley's age, approximately 38 at story start.]

[venusstarpower94]

American Girls and Artist Marks

American Girl dolls have undergone various changes over the years, from company changes to retirements to even weird add-ons like permapanties. (Ugh, remember those?) Because of this, some of our AG dolls that are thrifted or bought secondhand have different features that can give us a clue as to what their age might be.

For example, my three Pleasant Company dolls are fatter and have larger and squishier limbs. Glenn, my JLY #4 Transition Era doll, has the misspelled "American Gril" tag and the grayish tint to her vinyl. And of course, all my pre-2016 dolls have their neck strings.

But there is still one feature some AG dolls have that still confuses me to this day. And, as much as I have tried to research on this, no one seems to have a definitive answer as to what this could be either. I am referring to the mysterious Artist's Mark.

An "artist mark" is a super tiny engraving on a doll's head that sort of resembles a weird-looking hashtag and a letter C. So it pretty much looks like this: #C

They can be found on the back of the doll's head, near her right ear underneath her wig cap. They can be very hard to notice depending on how the wig cap is placed, but once you see it you will know. Here's a photo taken from delightfulworldofdolls.com, showing one of their dolls with the artist mark:

My question is, what are these things supposed to symbolize and what does the letter C even stand for? And how come it seems very few dolls have this mark?

There is a theory, according to American Girl's Wiki, that the artist mark is supposed to mean that particular doll was made early in production. It is also interesting to note, according to Delightful World of Dolls, that these artist marks aren't just restricted to dolls from past generations; some of our modern dolls, including Saige, have been found with one of these. I have no idea if there are other modern-age dolls out there, like any GOTYs after Saige, who might happen to have one but it would be something interesting to look into.

Meet my newest eBay finding, an artist-marked doll, Kagome (Kah-go-may). She's a JLY #11 from the Pleasant Company era, and is the first doll in my collection to have an artist mark.

AG Wiki's theory makes sense, at least in Kagome's case; She was among the first 20 dolls that started the JLY line back in 1995 (known as American Girl of Today at that time), which would have been during the PC era. Seeing that Kagome's got all the features of a PC doll (in all her silver-eyed glory 😆), along with the artist mark, does that mean she was one of the first JLY #11s ever made? If that's the case, wow.

What do you guys think about this? Is this something we should put on our tinfoil hats over, or is it not that deep? Should we spam AG's Instagram and ask them for the truth? 😂

[beautifulbuckys]

Milkshake

Word Count: 1.6k

Request: hey there! could you possibly do a steve x reader hurt/comfort with #57 from the sentence prompts? thanks so much! i love your writing :)

Prompt: “Today is a new day.”

A/N: Thank you for requesting!! I’m super duper proud of this!!

The sun was beating down on your and Wanda, who decided to take you out for a treat. As you sucked on your milkshake, the two of you were strolling down the bustling streets of Brooklyn.

Wanda decided that you two needed a 'girls weekend' last Friday. She wanted it to be with you, Hope, Carol, Nat, Sharon and Maria, but all of them were busy except for you two. So, you two headed down to the city. It was worth the six-hour drive to you, the scenery alone was beautiful. You honestly adored the transition from the larger than life pine tree-covered hills to the towering skyscrapers of the city. Both areas were beautiful to you in their own way. Upstate was peaceful, the only real noise being all the work at the compound. The area was covered in green for miles, left untouched by humans with an exception for a few summer houses. You had a soft spot for the city, though. You were born and raised in Manhattan, it was loud and crowded, but it was always home.

People were walking on both sides of you two. The occasional person would walk by with their music blasting so loud, you'd hear it from their earbuds.

"That milkshake good?" Wanda chuckled at you continuing to suck the drink down.

You smiled. You and Wanda were close, you did everything together. You'd give each other advice about what Wanda called 'stupid little things', better known to you as the boys at the compound. She'd rant her butt off to you about how Vision is so thick-skulled for an android, and you'd always listen.

"Yes, it's amazing. Thanks for getting it for me,"

"It's no big deal, Y/N. We needed a break from the boys, a girls weekend if that's what you'd like to call it. Now that I think about it, I should probably call Natasha and tell her not to tell the boys where we are,"

"You do that," You laughed, "I'm going to go throw away my shake." You shook the paper to-go cup around to show Wanda is was empty. She nodded, pulling out her phone as you spotted a trashcan next to a construction site.

You sauntered over, the sundress covering your legs rippling as you took each pride-filled step. As you got closer to the construction site, you heard murmurs among the men working.

"Hey lady, get a little fatter, will ya?" A tan man in a grey shirt shouted. His yellow hard hat assisting his chestnut hair at sticking out. His jeans were torn, and his utility belt was drooping.

"Yeah sweetheart, you clearly didn't need to the milkshake," A man in a white tank top and equally ripped jeans joined.

You quickly tossed the cup and dashed off, approaching Wanda. Little did you know, Wanda was standing behind you, nonplussed at these random men's comments. She looked at you, noticing the tears forming in your eyes.

"Steve, hand the phone back to Nat. I'm gonna put you on hold,"  

"Hey big guy," Wanda shouted with anger, pointing at the tan man with the grey shirt. "Those jeans aren't doing much for you, tell your wife I'm sorry on your behalf."

The men around him 'oohed' and 'aahed' at the comment, while the man's eyes bulged out of his head. With satisfaction, Wanda took your hand and stormed off. Once you two got far enough away from the men, Wanda put her hand on your shoulder and walked more leisurely. She rubbed your back while the two of you proceeded to walk around the city in silence. Wanda knew you didn't want to talk. When you'd want to, you'd point out the people you could see from skyscrapers. When you ached to talk, you'd mention how bright some car's headlights were. But you stayed silent, your head more focused on your thoughts than on your surroundings.

You stayed fastened to Wanda's shoulder for the rest of the walk to the hotel. You never once let go.

After reaching the room, you immediately got changed and wished Wanda a good night.

"So early, are you sure?" She asked, probably worried about your wellbeing after hearing comments like those.

"Yeah, no, I'll be fine," You feigned a smile until Wanda shut her door.

You didn't feel fine. Those comments made you feel like absolute shit. Who in their right mind would say that to a lady? Or anyone for that matter?! Steve and Bucky told you about chivalry back in their day. It made you laugh at the thought. From the stories you've heard, if Steve said anything like that, Sarah Rogers would descend from the heavens to beat the hell out of Steve. He always told you he was raised to be a gentleman, and it showed. Whenever he walked with you, he always stood on the side closer to the road. He'd help you organize your messy room, and compliment you every morning despite what you looked like. All this behaviour made it inevitable to develop a small crush on the man. He was tall, very good looking, and knew how to treat a lady right! You couldn't help but wonder what Steve would've done if he were there.

You walked towards your bed and laid on it. It's been about 7 hours since you heard those comments, but they still were in your head. Wanda walked around with you in silence to make you feel better. It didn't make you feel better, made you feel worse, actually. Because Wanda was being such a good friend and you didn't even talk to her. You pulled out your phone from the pockets your dress had when you heard a knock at the door.

"Oh, Wanda!" You said, rushing to the doors. "I was just about to text yo-"

"You're not Wanda," You stated, looking up at a familiar blonde's face.

"Thanks for the warm welcome, Y/N," Steve chuckled, waltzing into your room. "How're you feelin'?"

"Better than ever!" You fibbed, hoping he didn't have spider-sense or something. You really weren't in the mood to be lectured by a super-soldier for lying. Heck, you weren't in the mood to be lectured by Steve in general.

"Oh really?" Steve asked. "Not even after I heard what happened over the phone?"

You sighed. Of course, you thought. He had to hear you getting shouted at by a few construction workers. It made you feel like shit, yeah, but he definitely can't know that. He'd see you as weak, not very avengers worthy if you couldn't handle a few comments tossed at you about your figure.

"That was nothing, Steve," You sigh, tearing up.

He sat took your wrist and lead you to the bed, sitting himself and you down, then pulling you into a hug.

"Didn't sound like nothin'," He muttered, rubbing your upper arms.

Your tears started trickling down your cheeks.

"Y/N, you can't deny the truth because you think it'll make you tougher if you did," Steve continued, rubbing the tears off your face.

"Steve, I'm crying right now. I'm weak if I can't handle a few silly comments," You hiccuped. You'd feel the butterflies in your stomach if you weren't crying. You'd be stuttering because you were in his arms if you weren't feeling vulnerable and sad.

"That's not true," He insisted, "If I were you, I would've climbed over that damn fence and socked 'em in the jaw,"

You laughed through your tears. Even when you're crying, he always managed to make you smile and laugh like nothing was wrong. It was an admirable trait.

"Yeah, you would've," You blurted.

He smiled. "There's my girl,"

Oh gosh, that smile. You came to notice Steve had a few different smiles. When he was just trying to be polite, he'd nod and give a small smile with no teeth. If he was laughing, the corners of his lips would stretch to the peak of his cheekbones. His nose would scrunch up, which was the most adorable thing to witness. When he smiled at you, he'd give a toothy grin. His nose would scrunch up the tiniest bit. His eyes would glow. They always shine, they radiate. They glow like headlights in a pitch-black city. They would glow like the illuminated billboards in Time Square.

The moment was quick, but the single wave of confidence you'd felt all day washed over you. You turned your head, sitting up a bit and kissing his temple.

"Stay. Please," You begged.

"Of course," He obliged. "Do you want me to go on the chair or something?"

"You can stay on the best as long as you don't think of any funny business, Rogers," You chuckled.

He grinned. It was the smile exclusive to you! The Y/N smile, your personal favourite. It's not like he had to know anyways. You weren't even sure if he knew that he had a few styles of smiling. Perhaps that should stay a secret.

"I promise," he laughed.

The next thing you knew, you were asleep in the same bed with Steve Rogers.

The sun was gleaming through your white curtains, much to your dismay. You weren't a morning person, but you knew Steve was. That's why you were shocked to feel his warmth still next to you. You turned to meet his face.

"Mornin' beautiful," he muttered.

"Morning, Stevie," You giggled, pushing back his hair a little bit to show his forehead.

"Today is a new day," Steve spoke, "Don't let them get to you,"

"I know," You smiled, stroking his hair. "I know,"

You kissed his forehead. You were content, he was content.

Man, you were going to need to explain to Wanda why Steve was in your room later.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @musiclover1263

[neurospicybirb]

Why is being trans not okay?

Like, these people are not happy with their assigned genders? So they choose to switch it and that's a bad thing? Like, those people against trans people need to sit down and think about their life choices. You hate people who hate their bodies and that's a problem? Let trans people transition so they can love their bodies. It's a matter of mental health. It really is.

I'm not trans but I grew up with a sister skinnier than me. She got modeling gigs in high school and she still gets them from time to time. I have always felt like the fatter and uglier sister. But I'm not fat. I have the same body type that sculptures of Aphrodite has. It wasnt until lately that I started realizing that I am beautiful.

Yet again, I'm not trans so if I worded something wrong or offensively please correct me.

[polyputthekettleon]

Why am I so incredibly bad at this???

Two nights together in a row now, D and I have fought. And both times, she feels it's my fault.

I don't know what I feel.

I noticed her face looked different. It's the first time I noticed it; it's a little weird, a little disorienting, but mostly exciting.

I made a stupid joke, asking if maybe she had gotten fatter and it wasn't the estrogen moving the fat around in her cheeks. Even though I had just acknowledged and fully believe that it is indeed the estrogen doing its thing. Why the actual fuck would I make such a stupid, stupid joke???

Well, for one, it's a thought I've pondered-- there are two pictures that I showed her, one of herself and I back from September, the first time she went out dressed in public, and the other from my birthday, 2 weeks after she started HRT.

She looks at those pictures and sees her face having changed its fat deposits, and looks at her behavior the last couple months and sees how she's been working to be healthier. I see a face that got rounder first from weight gain going into December, and then tonight I saw a face that had, indeed, changed its fat deposits. It's subtle, but it's very very much there, and that was what I had been **trying** to say.

Except why the fuck would I say it in the first place??? Oh, yeah, wait I know-- I have an extremely toxic negative body image embedded by my fucking family and culture, and particularly my mother.

So I said the stupid (mean) thing, thinking I was joking, and she pointed out that it was a stupid (mean) thing to have said.

And then I apologized, and proceeded to dig an enormous shame hole.

But I tried to keep it under wraps and/or extract myself, until eventually I felt the urge to try to explain myself, at which point she expressed that any more talking about it felt like I was disregarded her "no", and ended up telling me that I had done to three times this evening, and that this was part of a trend ever since she came out two months ago, and she cited Monday night as more evidence for this trend.

And I can't tell how to take this. I imagine we're both somewhat right and we're both somewhat wrong... But I swear, when she is telling me that I've fucked up, it feels like she must be absolutely right. **ABSOLUTELY** right. And I don't know how to respond to that.

I have an text out to our couples therapist, asking for an appointment in March. I worry that this transition is going to tear us apart, possibly before we ever get there.

I was so tempted to ask her if she'd like to break up, or at least take a break from each other at least bwhile she's in these early stages of transition. But of course that's not really what I want, or what I *think* she wants. Instead I think that's me trying to run away, as surely as when I ran out the door that one day when she was angry with me.

I know she loves me, and I know she's hurting today. I know she knows I love her too. Why are we becoming so prone to fighting with one another, and why is it so hard to fix things up afterwards?

[teachmoments]

I almost let this tradition lapse! Year End Survey 2017, y’all!

1. What did you do in 2017 that you’d never done before? I’ve quit jobs before... but never because I HAD to. I’ve quit jobs because I wanted to. This year, I hit a wall where I knew I had to choose between continuing to be the type of teacher I’ve always aspired to be... or a well-paid button-pusher. I had the stones to say no to the latter and I’ve never done that before.

2. Did you keep your New Year’s Resolutions, and will you make more for next year? My biggest, stupidest NY resolution was to stop eating my favorite junk food - peanut butter pretzels... and despite having LOTS of opportunities, I made it 365 days. I was given a HUGE jar of them for Christmas and although we’re now safely ensconced in January, I’ve found I have lost my taste for them a bit. 3. Did anyone close to you give birth? Nope.

4. Did anyone close to you die? Nope! We made it through another year.

5. What countries did you visit?
 ZERO COUNTRIES! This answer has remained unaltered for the better part of the last ten years! Full disclosure, there is some talk about going up to Canada in ‘18. We’ll see.

6. What would you like to have in 2018 that you lacked in 2017? Focus.

7. What date from 2017 will remain etched upon your memory, and why? July 10th, 2017. That was the day I definitively decided to leave the teaching position I had been working at for two years and go back to my old district.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? This will sound very small to most... but being able to go back to Middletown was an achievement. Some might say that’s a low bar, but I had all sorts of stupid feelings tied up in whether or not the decision was the right one.

9. What was your biggest failure? Although I work hard when I can, I have completely failed at drawing comics... which for a long time was the passion which sustained me through hard times. Honestly... I spent the lion’s share of ‘17 in a fairly depressed state. That spilled over to my artistic output.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury? Nothing too serious. I wrenched my back out a little bit back in October but I’m OK now.

11. What was the best thing you bought? 2017 was the year of wireless headphones... which I thought were stupid but now can’t live without. No cords! Who knew? What’s that? EVERYONE knew? Ok. My bad.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration? My wife Ellen always deserves lauding but she’s become a real force to be reckoned with lately in the work she’s doing selling clothes on Poshmark. She’s made up a nice portion of the income we’ve lost with me moving back to a district where I’m paid a bit less. I should also say something nice about the team I work with, which welcomed me with open arms and made the transition back to Middletown a lot easier.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed? Trump. I feel like I’m in a low-level depression all the time when it comes to the state of our country.

14. Where did most of your money go? There’s not much extra money these days and that’s fine!

  15. What did you get really, really, really excited about? My sister got married in July, which was like a great big party. Cartoon Crossroads Columbus 2017. 

16. What song will always remind you of 2017?
 Meet Me in the Woods :: Lord Huron

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:


Happier or Sadder: Happier! Thinner or Fatter: Fatter. Richer or Poorer: Momentarily richer.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of? I will always wish more more unstructured down time, sitting in the backyard with everyone, listening to music.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of? Being frustrated.

20. How will you be spending Christmas?
 Christmas began all in a rush with the late end of school. My sister and her husband came down from New York. We spent most of our time here at the house. It was nice.

22. Did you fall in love in 2017? Sure.

23. How many one-night stands? Sure.

24. What was your favorite TV program?
 There was a lot of good television in M*A*S*H remained a strong contender for my time in ‘17 but this year will always be the year I discovered Star Trek: The Next Generation. I was pretty desperate to get away from the cacophony of insanity that’s been America lately and it was nice to plug into a show that preached someday, we conquer our petty human squabbles and get to go explore the stars.

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year? Not really. I feel sorry for folks.

26. What was the best book you read? The Eyes of the Dragon by Stephen King. Wish I had broadened out from my sphere of interests more, but The Eyes of the Dragon is fantastic and an underrated part of King’s oeuvre.

27. What was your greatest musical discovery? 


Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds. 

28. What did you want and get? 

A new job. 

29. What did you want and not get? Nothing springs to mind.

30. What was your favorite film of this year? Again, firmly in my wheelhouse: IT. What an adaptation.

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you? I was 35 and I have no memory of what we did. Whatever it was, it was low key.

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? More time to draw comics.

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2017? At work, I have branched out into being a lot more professional - four days a week, I wear a sports coat with a button-up shirt and slacks. I accessorize with lapel pins, which has become a small hobby of mine lately.

34. What kept you sane? 
Friday nights hanging out with my friends at Tolliver’s... Saturday nights hanging out with Ellen in my basement.

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? EASY. Alison Brie. 

36. What political issue stirred you the most? 

37. Who did you miss? (in no particular order)
 I’m trying not to miss people. If I love you, I work to keep you in my life.

38. Who was the best new person you met? Oh, I work with a lady who absolutely cracks me up. We do “bets” at work all the time and that’s been a very fun and funny part of going back to my district. 

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2016: Money isn’t everything.

40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year: As with the last few years, I don’t have one, but I thought I’d leave the question up for anyone who would like to copy and paste this for their own. I always hate it when someone edits these things and then I’m left with a misnumbered and confusing survey.

For example, this survey is missing many questions. The person I copied it from probably didn’t take them out, but somewhere down the line there is some schmuck doing exactly that. I don’t want to be like him/her.

[helloharani]

the “big” age

Recently, my morning routines have been quite calm. Only recently, because I just finished my second last semester of university. ... 

...  CRISIS TIME!!!  But even with classes during the last few months, my days have been generally filled with things to do. Over the year, I have built sort of a schedule. I think with everyone being at home because of Covid, we’ve been pacing ourselves a bit, “pacing” mean that there are things that happen throughout the week that make me realise how the days are passing.  Back to the morning. I’ve concluded that I like having a good breakfast. I think it might be my favourite meal of the day, or at least the most impactful. Even if I wake up at 11 a.m., I find myself eating “breakfast” and then a late lunch. Breakfast is accompanied by coffee, which I have found important to my system. I learned to make my own milk coffee (I guess you could call it a latte under certain circumstances) over the holidays thanks to my mom and Uncle Wasy. He gave us some filter paper and good coffee powder.  Haru takes her morning rounds - she walks in and out of the house, back to the food bowl and away. It gets funny sometimes, everyone wonders why she does it but we’ve just decided that she’s just a wanderer. She’s grown a lot fatter. Snowy would still be sleeping, either on the couch or in my room. Someone (usually my mom) would open the door to my room for him every morning. We have to give him medicine for the next few days. He looked a little sick, and after a trip to the vet we found out that he has a lack of teeth (sigh), and that he was probably sick from flu season. I got worried because he was losing weight. I don’t like thinking about my cats growing old. Or anyone I love, honestly.  The days vary. I’ve been trying to exercise every one or two days, right now I’m trying to stick to this everyday Yoga routine by following a Youtuber named Adrienne. Without class I’ve dedicated all my time to reading, and throughout the past two weeks I’ve revisited an old book series that I hope to write about here soon. I’m mostly in the comfort of my coping mechanisms. When I have the energy I like to see my friends. The nights usually end with snow sessions with Firdaus through FaceTime.  Uncle Wasy and Aunty Zura come over every Saturday for dinner. It feels different that they’ve been around so often, but a good kind of different. I’d like to think that it has always been this way. It feels like it would have been if they weren’t travelling so much every year. Unfortunately for them, Covid has bound them here for now.  Aniqah, Kasih, Myra and I have picked up Girl Guides again properly by trying to achieve the Duke of Edinburgh award. I now see them every Friday for Capoeira class with Norma. Mia is there too. For once we’re all exercising together.  I’ve also picked up bass and Ian teaches me through Zoom every Thursday. I thought I’d give it a try because I’ve been feeling disconnected from the keys. Hopefully this transition creates a new bond for music and me. Senja has been on a break for a while. We’re having our first show in months this Saturday. It’s not actually a show, it’s more of a pre-recording that will be up on YouTube. Our EP recording has been halted until things get better.  I start my internship at MalaysiaKini tomorrow. I also turn 21 in a few hours.  I think what I’m most scared about is throwing my life away. I don’t mean this by me giving up and becoming a slump forever. I mean as in forgetting. I’m not sure if I’ve told anyone this but I have a feeling that if I live long, I’ll suffer from amnesia and that will bring my demise.  I wanted to write this to solidify what I know and what life feels like right now. Turning 21 feels different than turning 20, even though that was the year I left the teens. Who knew that I would end up wanting to be alone on my 21st birthday? I would like to laugh.  I told my friends I didn’t want to celebrate in at all this year. I’ve had the privilege of being surprised and being thrown gatherings by them for the last few years, ever since high school and I couldn’t be more grateful. But I’ve cemented that I want a break this year to just absorb everything.  Partly because on my birthdays, I usually end up feeling terrible. I’ve always felt that at the end of the day, when I see people, I feel the need to please them rather than do what I want to do. And I think this year I’ve become strong enough to actually WANT to do what I want, instead of backing down.  I blame Covid. This year I’ve ventured into myself unlike any other year, and I know for a fact who really cares and who doesn’t. I don’t want my birthday to be just another reason for anyone to do anything for me. Do I sound selfish and whiny? I’m sorry.  Anyway, I don’t know where this ramble is going to. Wake up! You’re 21 soon!  I can’t see what is going to happen tomorrow, or the day after, or the next few days. For good or for bad, I just hope that my 21st year of being alive will be a year full of happy memories, both big and small. 

From 20-year old me to future me. You are sad and you prefer spending time alone at home (a drastic change from pre-Covid Inarah). You don’t know why. You’ve been let down a lot, both by people and yourself. You’ve found a new sense of gratitude for your privileges, your friends and especially your family; although you have problems showing so. Everything feels mundane, sometimes you don’t even feel like eating. But sometimes you feel good, and you can laugh and cry without feeling bad.  I wonder if everyone will still be living together in a few years. Will I move out? Will we move out? I kind of hope not. What will the politics be like then? Will we go back to living physically instead of virtually? What new items will I own, and what old ones will I let go of?  I hope in the future you find a balance that works for you, and I hope you get to go to sleep feeling good instead of the opposite. I hope you embrace growing up instead of feeling bitter about it, and I hope you enjoy what you do. I hope you cultivate good and healthy relationships, and maybe a better lifestyle. Also, keep your room clean - 

- and stay true to yourself.  Sending hope and love. 

Lepaklu  30th November 2020 

[barelynakedthoughts]

Today I am 12 weeks and 5 days into my pregnancy. I am 1 week and 1 day away from entering the second trimester. I'm still in shock that we may have a little one soon...I'm still surprised we made it this far. We're not out of the danger zone yet, but I'm settling into this pregnancy a bit more each day.

These past few weeks have been odd and filled with way too many tears than I care to admit. I've been a bit hormonal, but I've also had crippling anxiety over the safety and viability of our little one. For about two weeks, I did not feel pregnant in the way I had been. It was my transitional period from very nauseated and sick to leading a semi-normal, less nauseated life. Sure, I get lightheaded here and there -actually I'm writing this in the middle of the night because I woke up wanting to throw up. Yet, it's not every day and I'm even reintroducing light amounts of sauce and pasta. My body is even allowing me to eat chocolate again!! You would not believe how much excitement that caused this past week.

In the latter part of those two weeks, I began cramping daily and it was painful. I called the nurse for clarity, even. Since we were so close to a first semester screening, she recommended waiting and seeing how it goes. My brain was convinced we lost the baby.

Turns out, my cyst had grown a millimeter and the baby had grown even more. During the scan, I cried silently and squeezed my husband's hand so tight that he said it hurt afterwards. I responded with, "I guess I'm getting you prepared for a few months from now!" We chuckled afterward and stared at pictures of our little one. They moved so much during the scan. So much sl it made it difficult for them to get everything they needed. I secretly commended the babe because that meant we got to spend more time with them on the grayscale screen. There first few minutes of fame!

My heart has been at peace since then. Well there was one night where I wiped and there was a spec of bright red blood, but it has not since returned. I'm just going to choose my battles wisely from now on...or maybe not. We'll see. My emotions have been rather unpredictable to say the least. The doctors even sent us a video and I've watched it about as much as I've watched my favorite show, House. The joy of watching them bounce and wiggle and move their arms and kick their legs and side eye the nurse bouncing the scanner on their cozy little home...the joy is just invigorating. I pray for their safety and I pray for their well-being. I lean on God and hope for His mighty hand to gentle bring this little one to life come May or June!

So what am I feeling like now?

Well, normal. Kinda. My belly is starting to get bigger and if i weren't pregnant, I'd look like I've gained weight. The ironic part of this stomach growth is the scale. My body hasn't gained anything. I've been the same, if not two pounds lighter, since becoming pregnant in September. There was a point where I was fluctuating +/- 3 pounds each week, but that settled quickly and now I'm looking to start gaining weight for real. I'm, of course, going to ask the doctor what that looks like when we go in next week. In the midst of the fluctuation, I did happen to gain three little stretch marks on my belly. They have been my reminder of something precious even when I don't feel pregnant. There are some mornings where I feel my bump has gone missing...but it shows back up later in the day. I think most of fatter aesthetic is bloating right now. I cant wait until it's a round belly that screams "I'm pregnant!"

My lower back has been killing me and sleeping is still difficult. I'm starting to accept that I may never sleep through the night again - much to my husband's dismay. Poor him, he's been waking up here and there because I keep shuffling to find the right position. I guess he should get used to it, too! I've been trying my best not to wake him, though. It's lonely, but I can manage to past the time. I'm starting to notice slight aches when bending over and sitting in weird positions. I'm also starting the lose the ability to sit forward comfortable. My belly is not that big right now. It reminds me of when my period would hit honestly. Yet it's also different structurally. It's not a bloat, it's a physical alteration where pieces have been moved around.

Covid is scaring us a bit and with Thanksgiving coming up, we're becoming even more cautious. Might have to do a virtual dinner with both of our families. No can afford getting covid, but right now, I'm not trying to be pregnant with covid. I don't need the worry and I dont need the illness!

I've been catching myself staring at my belly, rubbing it and smiling more often. I'm noticing slight nesting tendencies, too. We're not buying too much beyond more comfortable clothing, but as we enter into the second trimester, this could change. I'm not trying to jump the gun yet. I'm waiting until after 20 weeks to start changing the apartment around. Fortunately that will come right around when Christmas decorations have to come down so it'll feel like a natural transition from the festively ostentatious to the surreal. Normally the apartment feels unfillably bare after Christmas, but I have a feeling there will be a different type or emptiness lurking. An emptiness filled with the hope of growth. I'm hoping by Christmas we get small movements, too. It would be a wonderful present. If I'm honest, I stopped wanting presents a few years ago. My inner Cindy Lou Who started expressing herself and Christmas gained a new meaning. I dont even want to give gifts. I feel it does a disservice to the season of giving because most items people dont want in the long run anyways. It's just a holiday to gain more stuff to a lot of people and I just want a holiday where I hug my mom, enjoy my family and smile genuinely all day. No earthly treasure means more than family...and this year, there would be no greater gift than having a healthy pregnancy and a healthy little one.

Also, singing Christmas songs with my dad would be beautiful, too. This type of Christmas where joy is revealed in acts of thanksgiving would be want I want to impart on my little one.

Well that was a tangent!

I'm feeling good this week. Seeing the light after a few weeks of darkness is just that much more precious. I'm excited to hear the heartbeat next week and to keep seeing growth happen. I'm excited to carry this little one...can't wait to hold them in my arms.