#and my brain is like. we could also go for weight loss thought *-*

[endcant]

nutrition is like… hard

[talkdutchtome]

Glitch- chapter eight

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader / mason mount x reader )

summary . . . when mason mount finds out that his assistant has been harbouring feelings for him for years, he makes it clear he doesn't feel the same way. but once he sees her become closer with formula 1 world champion max verstappen, he realises he may have underestimated his feelings towards the girl he has now pushed into the arms of another )

genre . . . angst )

song . . . glitch- taylor swift )

series masterlist . . . available here )

a/n . . . after the trauma i inflicted on you all last time, i thought i'd treat you to a few chapters of fluffy max x y/n content <3 Also this isn’t proofread unfortunately as i just got done with part of my dissertation and if i look at my computer for another second my brain will explode )

Y/N was left stunned, her mind grappling with the weight of Max's unexpected confession. The vulnerable honesty in his words lingered in the air, and she found herself at a loss for a response. What could she say? She had accepted that Max simply didn’t see her like that and that’s why he left so abruptly; the last thing she thought he was going to say was this. 

Max's next words pulled her back to the present moment. "Could you just let me in so we can speak in person?" he requested, his voice carrying a mix of urgency and sincerity. 

Y/N, still processing the revelation, stammered, "What?" 

"I'm outside your flat," Max confessed. "I know this is unexpected, and I'm sorry for just turning up, but I've been mulling it over in my head. When I realized how I felt, I needed to tell you immediately." 

The gravity of the situation settled on Y/N, and she hesitated before responding, “I’m at a bar, with Mas- With the team. They won today and we went out for a few drinks.” 

“Oh okay, I’m sorry I’ll leave.” Y/N could hear the deflation in Max’s voice and her heart sunk a bit. 

“No, give me 15 minutes and I’ll be there” she spoke before quickly hanging up. She didn’t know what exactly to say to Max, but she knew they needed to talk. 

The atmosphere in the bar hummed with celebration as the team and their friends reveled in the victory as Y/N re-entered the bar to inform people that she needed to go. She discreetly approached Mason, her face a mask of determination, and whispered, "I need to go, something came up." 

Mason, concerned, furrowed his brow. "Is everything okay?" 

Y/N offered a quick nod. "Yeah, just something I need to take care of. We can talk about it tomorrow, I promise." 

Mason's eyes searched hers for more answers, but Y/N's resolve was unwavering. "Please, Mason, not now. Tomorrow, I promise," she reiterated, and before he could press further, she pulled away, heading towards the group. 

She interrupted the lively conversation with a brief, "I need to head out, guys. See you tomorrow," leaving the group with confused glances. Mason, however, couldn't shake off his concern. He approached her once more, this time with a more direct plea. "Can we at least talk about what happened today?" 

Y/N met his gaze, a mix of apology and determination in her eyes. "I really have to go now, Mason. We can talk about everything tomorrow. I'm sorry," she said, a heavy weight in her voice. With that, she turned away, leaving Mason standing there, bewildered and frustrated, with their friends watching the scene unfold. 

The night draped itself over the city as Y/N approached her apartment building, the darkness obscuring the details of the world around her. In the dimly lit corner, Max stood waiting. The feeble glow of distant streetlights cast long shadows, rendering their faces almost invisible. Their greeting was muted, a hesitant hug exchanged in the dimly lit vicinity. Neither of them spoke much, the lack of clarity mirrored by the obscured visibility. The shadows seemed to swallow their words, leaving an unspoken tension hanging in the air. 

Inside her apartment, harsh lighting unveiled the details that the darkness had concealed. Y/N's neck bore a series of marks, intricate patterns etched in the aftermath of a passionate encounter. The marks, though unintentional, now became vivid tattoos, stark against her skin. 

As Max began to say something, his eyes fell upon the visible aftermath, and his words caught in his throat. The room, now flooded with the unforgiving light, accentuated the complexities of the situation. Y/N watched as his face dropped, the color draining from his skin. The realization dawned upon him, and an awkward silence settled in the room. The unspoken weight of Mason's presence loomed over them, turning the atmosphere into an uncharted territory where words faltered, and emotions hung heavy in the air. 

She tried to find words to explain, to offer some justification for the marks, but her mind drew a blank. Max, observing the unspoken turmoil in her expression, interrupted her before she could stumble through an explanation. 

"Mason?" His voice was devoid of emotion, dry and almost detached. Y/N, feeling defenseless and without a valid explanation, could only nod in response. In her defense, she had none. She could see the gears turning in Max's mind, trying to process the implications of what he'd just learned. 

She anticipated Max's departure, expecting him to distance himself from the completely fucked situation that he found himself in through no fault of his own. Instead, however, to her surprise, he didn't retreat. Without uttering another word, Max walked over and took a seat on her couch. The air was thick with unspoken emotions, leaving the room in a suspended state of uncertainty. Y/N hesitated, unsure of how to navigate the conversation that loomed before them. 

She hesitantly broke the silence, asking, "Aren’t you leaving?" 

Max, however, countered with a question of his own, delivered in a measured tone that hung in the air. "Should I?" 

Caught in the throes of uncertainty, Y/N admitted, "I don't know." 

Max, still processing the situation, confessed his genuine affection for her. "I really like you," he said, his words heavy with sincerity. "But if there's something between you and Mason, something real, you should tell me now. I don't want to stand in the way." 

The weight of his words lingered in the room, prompting Y/N to examine her own feelings. Yet, as Max continued, laying out the conditions for their potential future, the complexity of the situation deepened. "Unless you can definitively say that you want Mason and not me, then I'm not going to go away." 

He sought clarity, gazing into her eyes with a mixture of curiosity and expectation. "Can you tell me that?" he asked. 

Y/N, entangled in the web of her own emotions, shook her head. She really didn’t know much, but she did know that she felt something for Max. She did feel something for Mason too, maybe she always would; but Max made her feel something she had never felt before, and she couldn’t just ignore that.  

Max looked at Y/N with a sense of urgency in his eyes. "Do you have any holiday saved up?" he asked. 

Y/N, caught off guard, nodded hesitantly. "Yeah, I do." 

Max took a measured breath, his eyes reflecting a sense of determination. "How about this? Come with me to Monaco for a week, and then it’s Silverstone so you can come with me to that. Two weeks, just you and me. And if, by the end of it, you still want Mason, I'll walk away." 

The proposal lingered in the night air, and Y/N felt the gravity of the decision pressing on her. "I... I don't know," she admitted, uncertainty threading through her words. 

Leaning in, Max's eyes bore into hers. "Think about it." 

Silence enveloped them as Y/N contemplated his proposition.  

After a pause, she looked back at him. "I need to talk to Mason, to see if I can get the time off work and also.. Well, I can’t just up and leave for two weeks without an explanation. " she asserted, the resolve in her voice mingling with vulnerability. 

Max nodded, acknowledging the necessity for clarity. "Sure. I can book a hotel room for tonight, and then you can talk to Mason tomorrow. If you decide to go, we can leave after that." 

"Okay," Y/N agreed, the air thick with unspoken possibilities. 

The next day, the weight of anticipation hung in the air as Y/N, accompanied by Max, navigated the familiar path to Mason's house. The drive was a quiet affair, with unspoken tension filling the car. Max, understanding the gravity of the impending conversation, remained in the vehicle as Y/N gathered her courage to face Mason. 

Stepping into Mason's home, memories of shared laughter and easy camaraderie clashed with the somber reality of the impending discussion. Mason, sensing the gravity of the moment, met her gaze with a mix of concern and apprehension. 

"I need a few weeks off, I’m going to Monaco with Max for a little while," Y/N declared, her voice a delicate blend of determination and vulnerability. Her eyes, once filled with an unwavering spark, now reflected the tumultuous emotions swirling within her. 

Mason didn’t know what he expected when Y/N came to his door without any warning, but it wasn’t this. After yesterday, when they had- their moment. How could she just drop this on him, come and tell him that she wanted to go on holiday with someone else.  

“What do you mean? What about us, what about me?” 

Y/N, torn between loyalty and her evolving understanding of self, shook her head. "I need to, I like Max, and I owe it to myself to be able to give it ago. Being around you is confusing and complicated. I just need a break" she uttered; the weight of the decision etched in her expression. 

At her words, she couldn't help but notice the stark change in Mason's expression. His features, once marked by familiarity and warmth, now contorted with a palpable hurt. The lines on his forehead deepened, and his eyes, once a source of comfort, now betrayed a pain he couldn't conceal. It was as if her words had struck a chord, unraveling the threads of their friendship, leaving Mason visibly wounded. 

“Please don’t go, I’m sorry I- Well I was wrong before. I do see you as more than a friend," he admitted, laying bare the depth of his feelings. 

Yet, Y/N, no longer content with half-truths, posed a poignant question that lingered in the air like an unspoken truth. "Would you feel that way if Max never came along?" 

The room fell into a contemplative hush, the unspoken answer lingering like an invisible barrier. Y/N, her heart heavy with the weight of decisions, knew she couldn't settle for uncertainty. "Exactly," she asserted, her voice a mixture of resolve and sorrow. "I don't want to be with someone who only wants me because they don't want somebody else to have me." 

In a reluctant tone, Mason finally agreed, "Alright, Y/N, take as much holiday as you need." As she uttered a sincere "thank you," she turned to leave, only to be halted by Mason's hesitant voice. His words hung in the air, heavy with remorse and an unspoken apology, "I'm sorry, Y/N. I ruined everything, and I don't... Well, I'm just really sorry." The weight of his regret lingered, creating a somber atmosphere as Y/N absorbed his admission before uttering. “Yeah.. Me too.” and walking away from her best friend.  

As Y/N returned to the car where Max patiently waited, her eyes betrayed a lingering sadness that Max couldn't ignore. Concern etched across his face, he gently inquired, "You okay?" She offered a halfhearted nod, confirming Mason granted her the time off. Despite her affirmation, Max sensed something amiss. "You sure?" he pressed, genuine worry in his voice. She shook her head, signaling a preference to keep it to herself. 

The atmosphere remained heavy with unspoken words. The engine roared to life, and they merged onto the road, the rhythmic hum of the tires the only sound between them. Max stole glances at her, concern etched on his face, but respecting her need for silence. 

After a stretch of quietude, Max broke the stillness. "I need to pick someone up at the factory, they need to go back to Monaco too" he mentioned, his eyes focused on the road. Y/N nodded, speaking for the first time in a while “Okay no worries, who?” 

"It's Daniel," Max revealed, the name hanging in the air. At Max’s words, her eyes lit up with genuine excitement. "No way, Daniel, as in Daniel Ricciardo?!?" she exclaimed, the unexpected joy momentarily pushing aside the shadows. Max couldn't help but smile at her animated response, grateful for the chance to divert her thoughts from whatever weighed on her. 

Max chuckled at Y/N's admission, teasingly asking, "A fan of Daniel, huh?" She grinned, nodding, "Yeah, even though I grew up a Mercedes fan, there's always been something about Daniel." Max laughed, "Well, he'll enjoy hearing that. He's been excited to meet you." Y/N blushed at the idea, feeling a mix of nervousness and anticipation. Curiosity got the better of her, and she asked, "Have you told people about me?" Max's demeanor shifted slightly, a bashful smile playing on his lips. He jokingly responded, "Well, when I stopped making up excuses to get out of coming to the factory, they knew something was up." 

The rhythmic hum of the car's engine melded seamlessly with the soft daylight as they continued their journey. Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow on the cityscape passing by—a lively backdrop for the evolving conversation within the car.

Max skillfully guided their dialogue through diverse topics, carefully avoiding any mention of Mason. Despite the apparent ease in their exchanges, a delicate undercurrent of tension lingered—an unspoken presence that painted the atmosphere with a muted complexity. Max, attuned to the subtleties, felt the weight of Mason's words pressing upon Y/N's thoughts. 

As they traversed the city, Max occasionally stole glances at Y/N, his eyes seeking clues within the nuances of her expressions. There was a magnetic pull between them, an unspoken acknowledgment of the uncharted territory they navigated. Max sensed that Mason's remarks had imprinted themselves on Y/N's consciousness, like an indelible mark that begged exploration. 

Yet, Max exercised restraint, choosing not to pry into the depths of Y/N's emotions. Instead, he allowed the daylight to unfold, leaving room for the unspoken to gradually find its voice 

The car pulled up at the designated spot to pick up Daniel, and as he stepped into the car, a vibrant energy accompanied him. Daniel greeted Y/N with a warm smile, his friendly demeanor putting everyone at ease. The introductions flowed naturally, and Daniel couldn't resist a playful comment. 

"So, this is the infamous girl Max can't stop talking about," he teased, shooting a playful glance Max's way. 

Y/N chuckled, feeling a mix of amusement and curiosity about what Max might have shared. As they continued the journey to the private jet, the conversation effortlessly ebbed and flowed. Y/N and Daniel discovered common interests and shared laughs, creating an atmosphere of camaraderie that surpassed the typical introductions. The initial awkwardness melted away, leaving room for genuine connections to form. 

Upon reaching the private jet, Y/N couldn't help but marvel at the luxurious surroundings. The sleek interior, plush seats, and attentive service were a stark contrast to her usual mode of travel. Her excitement spilled into the conversation. 

"Wow, this is amazing! I've never been on a private jet before. It's like a whole different world up here," she exclaimed, taking in the opulent surroundings. Daniel grinned, his eyes reflecting her enthusiasm. "Get used to it; you're in for a treat. Flying private is a game-changer," he remarked, settling into his seat. 

Amidst the smooth hum of the jet engines, Y/N, engaged in an animated conversation with Daniel, seemed oblivious to Max's watchful eyes. Her laughter was infectious, punctuating the air and drawing everyone into the magnetic orbit of her joy. Max couldn't deny the fascination that swelled within him as he witnessed her seamlessly fitting into his world, connecting effortlessly with one of his closest friends. 

For Max, the allure went beyond the surface. He liked the feeling of introducing Y/N to his realm, of sharing moments and friends with her. Watching her throw her head back in laughter, observing the spark in her eyes, Max found himself entranced by the unique melody she brought to the symphony of his life. 

Meanwhile, Daniel, ever the observer, noted Max's subtle yet profound shift. It was as if he'd discovered a new rhythm in the music of his own existence. Daniel had never seen Max act so reserved, so captivated by someone's presence. 

As the jet touched down in the Monaco, Daniel, having fulfilled his role as the transient third wheel, bade them farewell. Max guided Y/N through the picturesque streets to his apartment, a chic abode that overlooked the azure Mediterranean Sea. 

Max's apartment, perched atop a hill, boasted floor-to-ceiling windows that framed the breathtaking panorama of Monaco's coastline. The decor seamlessly blended modern aesthetics with subtle nods to the city's classic charm. Y/N couldn't help but marvel at the tasteful art pieces adorning the walls and the plush furnishings that invited relaxation. 

On the terrace, Max pointed out the landmarks below—the glittering marina, the famous Casino de Monte-Carlo, and the labyrinthine streets that told tales of luxury and opulence. The breeze played with Y/N's hair as she took in the view, the sun casting a warm glow over the city. 

Inside, Max introduced her to his two cats, Jimmy and Sassy, who surveyed her with a mix of curiosity and indifference. The apartment resonated with a sense of Max's personality—elegant, sophisticated, and a touch playful. 

Leading her to the spare room, Max revealed an unexpected surprise. The room was elegantly decorated, adorned with fresh flowers, creating an inviting and serene ambiance. Y/N, genuinely touched, couldn't help but express her gratitude. Max casually mentioned that he'd arranged for his cleaner to work her magic during their flight. 

As Y/N settled into the room, a wave of fatigue washed over her. She thanked Max once more for the thoughtful gesture and embraced him before retreating to the comfort of the bed. Max assured her that dinner reservations were secured for later, and with a gentle smile, he left her to rest, closing the door softly behind him. The room, now silent, cradled Y/N into a peaceful slumber as the sun dipped below the Monaco horizon. 

Tag list-

@nightlockcornucopia @jaydensluv @girlytots19 @formula1mount @alwaysclassyeagle @aundercover @sofifiia @dessxoxsworld @lpab @lorarri @thelovehypothesis @torrie421 @ironmaiden1313 @celesteblack08 @glow-ish @urfavouritef1girly @alwaysclassyeagle @barnestatic @simxican @formula1mount @charli123456789 @mac-daddy-210 @lazybot @imguce @azxulaa @mehrmonga @sunny44 @skepvids @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @chimchimjiminie16 @tyna-19 @hoely-maria @stevesworld9 @f1lov3r @elliegrey2803 @heyyhelloohii @landosgirlxoxo @skepvids @aundercover @andydrysdalerogers @illicitverstappen @bbygrlllllll @kageyamama-hinatatata @imagandom @bibissparkles @sofifiia @dark-night-sky-99 @viennakarma @tyna-19 @wcnorris @storminacloud @girlintheredscarf @yourbane @anotherfan07

[asteriaas-stuffs]

Self hypnosis to enter void.

Self-hypnosis is a naturally occurring state of mind which can be defined as a heightened state of focused concentration. With it, you can change your thinking, kick bad habits, and take control of the person you are—along with relaxation and destressing from everyday life. It's similar to meditation and results in a better you.

How to apply self hypnosis.

Get into comfortable clothing. It's pretty hard entering any kind of deep, relaxed state when all you can think about is the waistband of your jeans cutting off your circulation. So take this as an excuse to throw on some sweats. You want absolutely nothing distracting you.

Make sure the temperature is good, too. Have a blanket or a sweater ready if you run on the chilly side. Sometimes feeling warm can be very comforting, too.

Although some people prefer to lie down, you are more susceptible to sleep than when sitting up. Whether you sit or lie, ensure that you do not cross your legs or any part of your body. You may be in this position for a while and this could end up being uncomfortable.

No self-hypnosis is effective if it gets interrupted by a phone call, a pet, or a kid. Turn off your phone (and the alerts), lock the door, and sequester yourself. This is you time.

The amount of time you want to dedicate to this is up to you. Most prefer to be in a trance (we try to avoid that phrase as it has certain...err...negative connotations) for about 15 or 20 minutes, but you should also allow time to get in and out of it, too.

Figure out your hypnosis goals. Are you doing it just to relax? For self-improvement? To train your brain? If you're doing it to achieve a greater end (weight loss, void), prepare a list of affirmations. Self-hypnosis can be used just for relaxation, sure, but it can be for a number of life-enhancing things, too. Many use it to achieve their goals, change their thinking, or just as general positive reinforcement or motivation. Here are some examples of affirmations you could try: I'm capable of letting go everything that's stopping me to connect myself from my higher self or you can use void Affirmation you prefer .

Entering hypnosis

Close your eyes and work to rid your mind of any feelings of fear, stress, or anxiety. When you begin, you might find it difficult not to think. You may find that thoughts keep intruding. When this happens, don't try to force the thoughts out. Observe them impartially, and then let them slip away.

Alternatively, some like to pick a point on the wall and focus on it. It could be the corner, it could be a smudge, it could be wherever you want it to be. Focus on the point, concentrating on your eyelids. Repeat to yourself that they're getting heavier and heavier and let them close when you cannot keep them open anymore.

Recognize the tension in your body. Beginning with your toes, imagine the tension slowly falling away from your body and vanishing. Imagine it freeing each body part one at a time starting with your toes and working its way up your body. Visualize each part of your body becoming lighter and lighter as the tension is removed.

Relax your toes, then your feet. Continue with your calves, thighs, hips, stomach and so on, until you've relaxed each portion, including your face and head. Using imagery techniques of something you find comforting or soothing, such as water (feel the water rushing over your feet and ankles, cleansing them of tension) can be effective as well.

Take slow, deep breaths. When you exhale, see the tension and negativity leaving in a dark cloud. As you inhale, see the air returning as a bright force filled with life and energy.

At this point, you can use visualization as you so choose. Think of a lemon and cut it in half in your mind. Imagine the juices oozing out and getting over your fingers. Place it in your mouth. What's your reaction? How does it feel, taste, and smell? Then, move onto more meaningful visions. Imagine your bills blowing away in the breeze. Imagine you running off those pounds. Get as detailed as possible. Always think of your five senses.

Appreciate the fact that you are now extremely relaxed. Imagine you are at the top of a flight of 10 stairs which at the fifth step start to submerge into water. Picture every detail of this scene from the top to the bottom. Tell yourself that you are going to descend the stairs, counting each step down, starting at 10. Picture each number in your mind. Imagine that each number you count is further down and one step closer to the bottom. After each number, you will feel yourself drifting further and further into deep relaxation.

As you take each step, imagine the feel of the step under your feet. Once you are at the fifth step imagine and truly feel the refreshing coolness of the water and tell yourself that you are stepping into an oasis of purity and cleanliness. As you begin to descend the last five steps, start to feel the water getting higher and higher up your body. You should now start to feel somewhat numb and your heart will start to race a bit, but notice it and let any qualms about the situation just drift away into the water.

Feel a floating sensation.

Repeat your affirmation to yourself as many times as you wish.

And after some minutes you're on the void boom . You can use any mediation short ones beforehand to focus or use any subliminal i would suggest lotsumi and Arabella subliminal .

[blackstarregulus79]

I'm going to ramble/character study about Rogue and the Doctor because I have brain-rot now...

btw nothing negative about their relationship in here, I love them.

It all traces back (in my head) to the 12th doctor (I could go back further but In an effort to keep this as short as possible I will not) when he has that last night with River. This is the last big loss the doctor feels because he knows he can't save her because she died before he even knew her. This left the doctor with a lot of feeling he never learned what to do with, and all of his companions after that never had a loss like this so how could he tell them and get any reaction other then 'yeah that sucks' none of them had been through that.

But Bill reminded 12 how to be happy and young and joyful which in my mind led to him being more forgiving of Missy and learning to trust her again but he thought in the end that she betrayed him leaving him another emotional scar.

That leads him to 13 who is so scared of loosing her companions and feeling that hurt again and that betrayal that she doesn't talk to any of them. She is too worried about opening up and sharing that side of her that she would rather hide everything then feel that pain.

But her and Yaz begin to fall into that trope of 'I want to love you, I just don't know how to any more' which breaks 13s hearts. So when she regenerates she is so tired of losing, hiding, and hurting so much that she regenerates into her old face trying to make her next self stop and take a fucking break.

That is when we get 14 who reigns he bond with Donna (one of his heaviest losses) and he starts to contemplate stopping and resting for one second but the guilt he feels towards everything he's done and how he feels that he owes it to his past companions to keep going.

Then his soul rips in half, and he can do both.

(I know this had been said before but stay with me)

And because of this 15 can express and feel what he is feeling (that is why he has been crying so much this season, because he is finally letting himself). But his companion, no shame on her or anything, can't really do anything but listen because she has never travel the universe with someone grow to care about them more then anything just for them to be gone.

And having a shoulder to cry on is nice and everything but sometimes it is nice to know other people have felt pain and loss like this, and to be told you are not alone. Make you feel like you are not crazy.

Then he meets Rogue. A man who has traveled with and lost someone, who can feel the weight of it, who is also somehow trying to figure out how to live with lose even though it is so fucking difficult. And the doctor gets told about how Rogue lost someone and he tells Rogue how he lost everyone. This is one of (if not the first) in a very long time who can says 'I have been through that to I know exactly how you feel'.

And even though the Master travels the universe they do it alone, they don't feel the lose of a companion like the doctor does.

And that is why they move so fast with each other, even getting engaged the first day they met, because they don't know when they are going to lose again. Their scared and want someone they can relate to.

And Rogue knows the pain and doesn't want the doctor to feel it again so he takes Ruby's place on the trap. But the doctor feels the pain anyways because he could see the potential with Rogue, and sometimes when you are that close to something you wanted it hurts just as bad.

SO WE NEED TO BRING ROGUE BACK SO THE DOCTOR HAS SOMEONE HE CAN RELATE TO, TO TALK TO!!!!! 15 JUST NEEDS SOMEONE TO HEAL WITH NOT FOR!!!!

Anyways thanks for listening to my ramble. I know the doctor could relate to Jack about this kind of thing but I think they have way too much history for the doctor to open up to him.

Here's my Spotify playlist for them if anyone wants it:

[studiogrimm810]

hii!! this is my first fic i’m posting here so excuse the not-put-togetherness of this post lol, i just really wanting to share this!! also i would love any and all feedback please!! :)

pairings/characters: sam winchester x you, dean is also there

summary: you get shot while on a hunt and the brothers work to patch you up on the scene

warnings: blood/blood loss, gunshot wound, graphic depiction of retrieving bullet from stomach

word count: idk, i typed this out in a tumblr draft, i’ll do better next time haha

_______

God, if it weren’t for that damn gun…

This was a vamp nest they were hunting and Sam still had brought his gun. Yes - of course it’s good to have extra protection, but if he knew that a vamp would used it against you he would have never brought it.

And now there you were, sprawled out on the icey basement floor, slipping in your own blood. Sam lunged for the vamp as soon as he noticed the creature had his gun, but the monsters trigger-finger was more determined and his heart sunk as he heard the gunshot ring out.

Sam didn’t dare to look over at you until the vamps head was clean off it’s body. The slice of Sam’s machete sprayed a spit of blood across his cheek and he huffed for a second before his memory caught up with him and he snapped his head to where you whimpered on the floor - breaths ragged and pained.

“Hey- hey, hey…” Sam crawled over to you, his hands slipping in the puddle of blood growing beside you. Your mouth gaped open, chin quivering as you tried to get out a word - any words. Sam pressed his hands into the wound and you only gasped because there wasn’t enough air in your lungs to scream.

“I know, honey, I know,” Sam fingered his phone out his pocket and called Dean, putting him on speaker and throwing the phone back down so that he could remain the pressure on your stomach.

“Sammy?” Deans voice flowed through the phone right next to you on the floor. You turned to the phone, seeing Deans name light up the screen and the timer going on the call. It was blurry and you blinked to try and focus but it didn’t help. You realize your eyes were full of tears.

Sam rambled out what had happened, his voice tight with worry and his hands trembling.

“We- we’re in the basement, I need you to get the kit from the car and get down here- now!” Sam’s voice left no room for questions or concerns so Dean didn’t even respond past saying “2 minutes”.

“Look at me, honey,” Sam cooed, tilting his head so that it lined up better with yours but it just made your vision spin more. You felt sick.

“Fuck-“ you mumbled, pressing your head back into the concrete floor. You just noticed your ears had been ringing because now the sound was starting to dull and the buzzing in your stomach started to tickle away into a searing pain.

“Baby, I need you to look at me- can you hear me?” Sam had removed a hand from your stomach and brought it up to your face, trying to snap you out of your shock. The overwhelming weight of the past 60 seconds of reality slammed back into your brain at full force and now your breathing was quick and you tried to sit up to look at the wound. “Woah, okay, baby. Calm down, Dean’s coming with some help and I’m gonna fix you- I’m gonna fix this,” he stated like a prayer, willing it by just his own desperation.

You could hear footsteps clunking around upstairs but Sam assured it was just Dean. Your mind was all over the place, constantly getting reset by the wash of pain ripping through your abdomen. The back and forth of what you tried to focus on felt like your metaphorical neck was about to snap from the emotional whiplash.

‘God, this sucked…’ you thought.

Sam continued to mumble reassurances and praises and you weren’t too sure if it was for him or yourself. He seemed to just be on autopilot. He gently lifted your torso which earned a soft cry from your lips, making Sam want to retreat further into the corner until he couldn’t hear or see or feel the secondhand of your pain.

“I know, honey, I just need to check something,” his voice was soft, or at least he was trying for it to be. You saw his face stiffen and you knew what he was about to say. “There’s no exit wound.”

Your jaw clenched and you closed your eyes. You tried to focus on the pain to gauge to location of the bullet.

“Where- where is it?” You stutter, looking up at Sam. Due to your current consciousness and Sam’s eagerness you can hope that it isn’t fatal.

“Uh- it’s…” he pulled up his hand to point to the side of his stomach, “you’re- you’re gonna be fine.”

He still looked completely freaked and pale, more worried about you bleeding out than from organ damage. He looked up as Dean descended the basement steps, Deans face falling at the sight before him.

Blood. There was a hell of a lot of blood. Sam’s hands were stained and his sleeves soaked. Dean fell to his knees right beside her and ripped open the kit.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Dean addressed you, smiled softly and looking into your eyes for just a moment, “You’re gonna be just fine.”

Dean pulled out a bottle of antiseptic and a pair of scissors then he looked up at Sam, “Sammy, you with me?” Dean demanded, knowing it’s hard for him so see you like this.

“Yeah- yeah, I’m here,” Sam cleared his throat and took the kit, Dean tore the fabric of your shirt and poured the antiseptic over your gaping bullet hole. You cried out.

“Fuck- Dean… maybe a wa-warning next time?” You stuttered out, your hands started to shake and you stared up at the ceiling, your vision blurring.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, working quick.

“Dean- the bullet is still in her,” Sam almost whispered and his face contorted into a cringe. Dean met Sam’s eyes with a sigh. Dean looked down at you and called out your name.

“You know what that means, don’t you sweetheart?” He asked, jaw clenched and hands already stained. You continued to look at the ceiling and just nodded, digging your fingers into your ribs to try and redirect your pain. It didn’t work, but you couldn’t stop. “Sam, tweezers,” Dean ticked his head to the kit that was now besides Sam.

You heard the clanking of metal and your own feared breaths. You wanted to sob but you felt frozen, completely and utterly in shock. The noise around you started to echo.

“-…2…1”

You scream. You scream as the cold tweezers claw their way past your freshly, air-exposed insides. Dean keeps the tweezers clenched on purpose and if you could think straight you would thank him.

Your body tries to squirm away but Sam is holding you in place and again- if you could think straight you would curse him.

Your jaw is clenched so tight that you worry your next injury may be a cracked tooth and your eyes are so screwed shut that you’re starting to see dancing colors and shapes on the back of your eyelids. You can hear Sam’s voice trying to reassure you but you can also feel the stiff metal fishing in your insides for the last piece stiff metal that fucked you over. It was agony.

Sam felt a thick, bunch of worry almost blocking off his windpipe. He could barely get a proper breath and he just stared down at your pain contorted face wishing there was something else he could do besides wait for Deans next instruction. Sams hands were sticky with your blood as he caresses your cheek and he knows that he should wipe off the blood first but he so desperately wants to comfort you and to be something more than what he is now.

Deans expression is stiff, his eyes unfocused and hands almost cramped from how tensely he’s holding himself. He created a mental image of the tweezers in your abdomen, working carefully and slowly, waiting for the… tick! That’s it, he let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and nodded at Sam, signaling he found the bullet. Dean almost glanced down at you but knew if he did he would loose his sense of collected attention. He positioned the tweezers to open them and latch onto the bullet and began to pull directly out of your flesh.

The motion earned a deep groan to rip through your throat that made Sam want to throw up but once the bullet was out, you all took a moment to catch your breath and look at the pebble that caused you so much pain.

“Honey, hey,” Sam pulled your cheek to look up at him, your eyes were glossy and crossed but you could see him enough, “Dean got it out, you’re gonna be fine okay?” Sam nodded, trying to get you to catch up with him mentally. You slowly lolled your head in an attempt to nod but the weight pressed against your skull like a magnetic ball trying to escape, you groaned again.

“Sam- gauze,” Dean commanded and Sam immediately listened, moving away from you just far enough to reach the requested item. Sam hands it to Dean. “Need a hand, Sammy.”

And Sam listens. It’s a rhythm that the brothers have learned over the many years working together, how to fight, work, stitch. Dean always took the lead while Sam held their ground and that’s exactly how they worked on your wound. Sam cleaned up excess blood and surrounding areas while Dean disinfected and readied a bandage. Quickly, the wound was patched up enough for them to move you and get you all the hell out of that musty basement.

“Think she can walk?” Dean asked Sam while he wiped your blood off of his hands, packing the kit back up. Sam looked down at you, a sweet, open look of wanting to absorb any and all details of your face, he smiled softly at you and shook his head.

“No, I’ll carry her,” Sam said without asking you first, not willing to risk you any more pain. He gently pressed a kiss to your forehead and held it for a moment. “You’re okay,” he repeated, this time for himself.

He slowly pulled away and worked his arms beneath you to lift you and as your body contorted you let out a soft, pathetic whimper. You were too tired to make any real noise.

Sam held you close as Dean lead the way out of a building they never wanted to see again.

[incomingalbatross]

Top 5 favorite AUs?

A good question! (I'm going to assume "types of AU" here - apologies if you were looking for specific AUs, but this was what came to mind first.)

In no particular order:

Platonic soulmark AUs. I am obligated to include this given that I've written multiple in different fandoms. :P I love taking characters who are Significant to each other and throwing a big red flag at them, in-universe, and getting to play with how they process that once it's been foregrounded. Also love the freedom and room for variety under the umbrella of "soulmate marks."

Reincarnation AUs. This one is funny because the actual concept of reincarnation offends me on a deep theological and metaphysical level, to the extent that I often have to rationalize it a bit within my own plot bunnies. And yet I love it. Love the idea of people starting all over, having new lives, but finding each other and starting where they left off - of getting to start where they wished they could have last time. I'm a sucker for it.

Fix-it AUs. Extremely basic, yes, but they're like candy. I also love watching the variety, in fandoms where there are one or two Bad Things everyone's sad about - they range all the way from "here's one thing I changed to give them a slim window toward a better path, and they are going to forge their way through with blood sweat and tears" to "what if this particular person had just... been less stupid" to "everything goes suspiciously easy for them but we all know this is wish-fulfillment so sh" to "and the bad guy tripped and broke his neck on the way to committing crimes THE END."

Negaverse AUs. All right, this one does have a specific fandom name, because Darkwing Duck did the "mirror universe where everybody's moralities are swapped" my favorite. It's hard for me to find a morality-swap/mirrorverse AU I actually like to read, somehow, but they are delightfully fun to brainstorm. (The key for me is A) letting your new villains maintain some core of their canon self while now being garbage in very distinctive ways and B) leaning just as hard into creating new heroes who you can love and root for.)

Peggy Sue/time-travel AUs. By this I mean specifically the "character gets sent back into their past body, with all their future memories," and... I have a complicated relationship with this one, honestly. I will often revolve AUs of this type in my head, but they almost always end up breaking down under their own weight. I want to give characters second chances but I can't accept the losses involved for them in going back alone, so I keep expanding the time-travel cast list until it gets ludicrous. And like, when I'm so unwilling to give up their present, it makes it hard for me to stay committed to wanting a new past for them. ...But even so, it takes up enough space in my brain that it goes on the list. ;P

Thank you for giving me a reason to ramble about my AU thoughts! :)

[tobeabatman]

sorry but your 'fat to thin weight-loss" post was more triggering than anything else in the thinspo tag. like i started uncontrollably sobbing after seeing it. people who's only goal is weight loss isn't going to be convinced by a post telling them that losing weight it a futile effort, all it will do is trigger more unhealthy behaviours/thoughts e.g after seeing that i thought 'well clearly they just didn't restrict enough, i'll be able to do it, i can prove it wrong'

Hey! I’m sorry it was triggering. I’ve taken the tag off the post now. I believe the tag was a bit mismatched otherwise as well.

Other than that, I won’t put trigger warnings on my post nor do I think the message otherwise should have been changed. I can avoid using certain tags if that does make people uncomfortable, though.

The truth is: fat to thin weight loss isn’t possible. It’s something that has been researched. Most people on the thinspo tag aren’t even fat, so the message doesn’t concern their bodies the same way it concerns fat bodies (which is why I believe the tag was out of place to begin with).

And I do understand that it’s a gloomy piece of information. Trust me, there’s still a part in my brain that feels saddened and out of control because of it. However, it is important to disclaim it to all the fat people out there who are trying to lose weight and end up in a deep sense of depression because they can’t, and always put the weight back on. A lot of people who are fat are depressed because they are told it’s their own fault that they can’t lose weight. We can’t live in a world where we never say: ”hey, btw, here’s research that proves your inability to permanently lose weight isn’t your fault”, especially when there’s industries benefitting from it.

And it’s important to say it because fat people can then better advocate for themselves in healthcare. When we know long-term weight loss isn’t even an achievable thing for most, then doctors can’t force us to lose weight as a solution to all our health problems. So many fat people die constantly because their only advice from a doctor was ”lose weight”. Things would be different if we accepted that those patients will never be thin permanently.

And I don’t know whether my explanation was needed or not for why I post stuff like that and this, but I’m sharing this so that I hopefully don’t look like an inconsiderate asshole when I don’t stop posting sh*t that can be triggering to people who are obsessed with losing weight. Point out any tags you don’t want me to use or want me to use, and I’ll try to compromise. I’m not going to stop saying stuff, especially when said stuff is backed up by research.

And I’m also not going to put a trigger warning (which they didn’t specifically ask for, but in case someone is wondering) on my stuff when so many fat people out there are mentally or physically ill, or dead because nobody’s saying anything, and when so many fat people could be empowered with these messages. People who haven’t worked on their (internalized) fatphobia will always be triggered by some parts of my content, and it’s not my job to undone other people’s biases. I’ll just try to aim for the right audience instead.

[imagoddamnonionmason]

Holidays at the Mason Home

Fandom: Call of Duty

Word Count: 1961

Relationships: Frank Woods x Bell OC

Characters: Frank Woods, Alex Mason, original female character

Summary: Bell, Woods and Mason play pool and then darts.

A/N: ok this is chapter 2 of Holiday at the Mason Home and even though it's literally the middle of the year I don't care- I had the idea and just had to get the brain worm out. It's an ongoing little fic, will be short, but is a little snippet into life after Solovetsky for Bell and her growing relationships, especially with Frank! Next chapter, you get to meet Mason's wife, Sarah and then their son, David.

also... I don't know if I ever posted chapter 1 in this format or if I just posted the link to ao3... either way, if you want to read chapter 1, it is available on ao3, account name the same as my Tumblr! there's a link somewhere on here- if you can't find it, dm me :3c

“Bell, why don’t you have a go?” Mason asked, once he had wiped the floor with Woods, leaving the other bristling slightly from the loss. The two had a decent competitive streak, so it was probably a good idea for one of them to let her take their place, unless the pool cues get snapped… all in good humour, but still they could get very competitive. 

“I don’t know how to play.” She admitted, after some time chewing the words between her teeth. They stared at her and she snapped, “this is why I didn’t want to mention-”

“What, no,” Woods wafted away her worries with a hand, “I’ll show you.” 

“You’ll lose, though,” Mason jabbed, “with him teaching you.” 

Woods was going to wipe that grin off his face. 

“Shithead,” he muttered. 

Bell rolled her eyes. 

Their antics were being watched. Woods didn’t like the feeling of holes being bored into the back of his head from eyes he’d told to mind their own business, and he moved to turn, only to have Bell catch his face in her hand and pull his attention back to her. He would never admit this, but it was easy for him to melt into her touch, to allow her to guide him. He put on a smile, inched closer to her, and part of him wondered where the pretending stopped. 

His arm was around her waist, hand resting against her hip, comfortable, and he became acutely aware of how she was moving, how her hand rested lightly against the centre of his back giving her balance as she stood against him. Woods’ breath hitched in the back of his throat and he forced his gaze away from her quickly, though kept an easy smile on his face. 

She didn’t seem to notice the slip of his toughened facade. God forbid Frank show her, or anyone else, what he was actually feeling. 

“So, how do we start this, then?” With her free hand, Bell gestured vaguely to the table. Mason had already started preparing the game, collecting the balls in their triangular formation at one end of the table and the white ball on the opposite. She made note of the two types - striped and full colour - and presumed she’d choose one and Mason the other. 

“You can go ahead and break,” Mason stood back, resting an arm on the hand that held the cue, shifting his weight to one foot. His eyes watched her, settled and calm, and he was patient. 

Bell looked at Woods, raised her brows as if to say ‘and that means?’

“Hit the other balls with the white ball,” he informed, “hard as you can.” 

“Simple enough,” she murmured, taking a cue resting against the table. She’d got a an idea of how to hold it from her few moments of watching them play, but the only thing her mind seem to register was the weight and feel of it in her hand and the advantage it could give her in a fight; it was difficult to force passed the years of militant programming, she supposed, and worked to push that thought aside. 

There will be no fighting tonight, she reminded herself, well… no more fighting.

Bell stood near the side of the table and she rested her hand on the green felt of the tabletop, focusing on the white ball - maybe she was taking it too seriously, but she hated being imperfect at anything. Trying her best to hit the ball, she did exactly as Woods had said, smacking it with all her strength. It careened into the others, sending them exploding out into different corners of the space. One by one, they all seemingly found a hole and plopped straight into them. A few danced about, then teetered on the edge. 

“Beginner’s luck,” Mason uttered, tutting slightly in annoyance - Woods was smug. 

“Did you mention she’d lose or something?” He questioned, a wide, tormenting smile on his face. Mason wanted to flip him the bird, but he remained sportsmanlike. 

“Did I do good?” She asked, turning to Woods with slight bewilderment and a sense of pride for not utterly failing. He nodded, quickly, “oh yeah, you did good. Now, stripes or colour. You gotta choose one. Then aim for ‘em.” 

Silently, she chose the stripes, trying her best to position herself for the hit. At first, it didn’t feel right, and when she stood back up, the men watched her carefully. 

Bell hovered down again, tried to hit the white and missed. 

Bowing her head, she whispered toward the table, “fuck.” 

There was a slight burn in the palm of her hands and if she were in the habit of admitting her feelings, she might say she was embarrassed; why? She couldn’t say. It couldn’t be anything to do with the men that she stood with, no not at all. Inwardly, he rolled her eyes at her own thoughts. 

Her grip shifted on the pool cue, as she raised her head to watch the white with a thin glare.

Then, she felt a warm presence next to her, hands gently shifting her pose, voice saying, “lift a little, relax, then go again.” 

She tried. 

Missed. 

“Beginner’s luck didn’t last, huh?” Mason teased, good heartedly. 

Standing up straight, she felt like launching the cue across the room; she even imagined it in her mind’s eye, watching it crash in the distance; in reality, her grip tightened on it as the end rested against her foot and floor. Woods chuckled, which did not help the burning feeling in her chest and he stood slightly to her left. His attention was then back on her, “I said relax.” 

Guiding her down into the pose she’d had before, he ghosted her, left hand over her left on the table, his other guiding her cue arm. His face was so close to hers and when he gently spoke his instructions, his voice sent shivers up her spine. Bell could feel his words on the skin of her ear, warm, gentle, encouraging, and she took a deep breath and hit the ball. 

She sent another stripe into a hole. 

“Atta girl,” he murmured, low enough just for her to hear. 

Just as Bell began to get used to his presence next to her, he was moving away, and it left her feeling a little empty - she shook that feeling away immediately. 

“Again?” She asked, wishing that she could just let Mason take his turn - having eyes on her was not something she wanted right at that moment. 

“Yeah. Just until you miss or have none left.” This was Mason. 

This attempt was met with success, but she did not manage to send this stripe into an unsuspecting hole - it pinged against one side of the table, then chipped off the very edge and sailed slowly to the centre. It sat there, miserable and alone. 

“Not bad,” Mason offered, “but now, it’s my turn.” 

Unfortunately for Bell, Mason was skilled at the game - he pocketed all of his remaining colours until only the eight ball was left and then he shrugged and pocketed that, too. It was over in a flash and Bell’s last remaining stripe remained lonely in the middle of the table. She eyed it, then moved her gaze aside to the adjacent wall of the venue. 

“Why don’t we have a game of darts?” she asked, head nodding towards the board, “I played your game. You play mine.” 

The two men had been in the throes of what would look like an argument to an outsider but, to those who knew them, it was clear that they were throwing jabs each other’s way - Woods had taken a slightly defensive standpoint, something along the lines of she never played before. Mason’s standpoint was no mercy. 

Bell appreciated both sides. 

“Alright, who’re you going against first?” Mason asked, as he started to walk over signalling the end of the ‘argument’ between him and Woods. He brought his half drunk beer with him and his other hand nestled in the pocket of his jeans. He seemed truly relaxed for once, rather than the slight telltale that he was on edge whenever he was at work. 

Bell shook her head, pointing at the two of them, “both of you against me.”

“Pfft, easy.” Woods. 

Confident in himself, as always.

Now this time, he would have to agree with Mason; no mercy. The woman had clearly chosen a game she thought she’d best them at and he’d love to prove her wrong, garnered by that competitive streak that he shared with his brother-in-arms. 

“Sure.” Mason. 

Relaxed but an air about him betrayed his eagerness to win just as much as Woods. 

Bell knew they were decent when it came to marksmanship and their aim was always solid - but this was darts and most of her childhood had been passed by playing nothing else. There were well over a few other reasons in the bank, but she wasn’t about to start telling everyone her training regime from the 50s. 

The two men had set themselves up, taken their shots, and proven that, yes, they could hit the board. Everyone’s goal was to hit the bullseye, but they fell short - sometimes by a little and sometimes by a lot. This made her smile and she removed her jacket, placing it on the pool table, before she took the six darts from Woods. Three each for them, six for her - evenly balanced attempts to score; it was fair. 

Well, until she started playing. 

First hit. Bullseye. 

Then the second. 

The third. 

Fourth. 

Fifth. 

“What the fuck. That. That can’t…” Woods had his arms crossed over his chest, a defeated frown on his face and at a loss for words. Mason looked extremely impressed, but not surprised in the slightest.

“Sorry,” she turned her head to them, “did you say something?” 

The sixth landed in the bullseye. 

At this point, the bullseye was heaving with darts, overcrowded and crying for them to be removed, if only to allow it to breathe again. 

“You didn’t even look,” Woods huffed, stepping up to the board to check that his eyes weren’t deceiving him. 

“I don’t have to,” she shrugged, prideful, smug, “I’m just that good.” 

Through a laugh, both Woods and Mason uttered, “fuck off.” 

“The proof is there,” she gestured, eyes skimming the venue - in their time being focused on pool and darts, Cliff who had been previously hunched over at the table, tail between his legs and deflated in his rejection, had gotten up and left. 

“The admirer has gone,” she informed Woods, when all three of them came to collect themselves at the bar, a last sit down before they would decide to head off home. Mason raised a brow at his friend when he noticed that his arm was still around her shoulders and part of him wanted to shake his head in exasperation - if he could bang their heads together and make them see just how obvious they were, he would. But he didn’t feel like handing out concussions like candy on halloween. 

“Oh, so he has,” Woods finished the drink he’d been sipping on, placing it on the bar as he reluctantly gave up the charade of husband. Mason could read his friend like an open book; he supposed it was because he wasn’t just a friend, more a brother, and he’d spent a lot of his life with the damn hothead - maybe he’d speak with him later, about Bell, about the two of them together. 

“Let’s go, Sarah will be getting worried,” Mason sighed. 

The three left the venue, headed to Mason’s pickup, and started the arduous journey to his home through the snowy weather.

[fleursbending]

what was neteyam going to say? what were his last words going to be?

i initally thought it would be something like "i see you", but in my gut i was like.. hmm i dont know though. because i feel like jake already knows that.

he knows his son sees him, even with his harsh parenting ways - neteyam knows why he is the way he is. why he makes such decisions and is so hard on his children. he doesn't like it, but there is a mutual understanding there. i feel like it was established from the get-go. why neteyam didn't talk back, rebel, like lo'ak had. lo'ak did not see his father, when he'd try to - his judgment would be clouded and defensive.

tbh i think he was going to apologise and say "i'm sorry". we could debate this for a century but to me, it makes the most sense. he was the eldest son and now he was forced off the mantle due to his fatal gunshot wound. he was supposed to be the next clan leader, he was supposed to save his siblings and get all of them out there alive.

maybe it wasn't the first time he'd spoken out, revealed the depths of his mind in earnest to them. neteyam knows he isn't going to go home - he wants to though, he wants to live. he wants to see this battle through. to be able to stand and realise their reckonings did not fail and now they can really return back home. so in his final moments, he relays that to his father - desperation and wrangling fear in his eyes. "i want to go home."

and neteyam knows with the way his father hesitates but continues to reassure him, that this is where he will be laid to rest. he sees the anguish in his parent's eyes, how his younger brother continues to apply pressure on the wound that takes down the mighty warrior. and his father is saying "it's okay, we're going home." he knows then, eywa awaits for him, that will be his new home.

so he goes to apologise, "dad i'm sorry." but his last breath is escaping him quicker than he realises. and he feels so bad because this isn't what he does? this wasn't how he was supposed to go? neteyam knows his home is wherever his family is, he wants those words to follow after his apology. he wants to say how he should have done more, and how the legacy his father has been paving will not fade in vain. that they'll get through this loss - he'll always be there with them.

he was sorry because this was the first true time that someone had to suffer the consequences of his actions - usually, it was the other way around. and i also think if he had been given a few more moments, he would have consoled lo'ak and told him that it was not his fault. because he knows his baby bro better than anyone, the ins, and outs. what makes his brain tick, what triggers him and what makes him happy. he already feels like such a failure, he doesn't need this extra weight on top of the already impending load he has. he doesn't need to try his best to fit into the mantle neteyam was supposed to carry.

so that's why i think, neteyam's last words were going to be "im sorry / i'm sorry, dad."

pls don't kword me for this analysis...

[angel-fruitcake]

Hello just need to vent with someone else cause I feel like im stressing all the people around me irl feel free to not answer if you dont want to its ok really ill understand (im just writing this to you cause i saw you posting about it)

Im not american but ive spent the last months watching the campaign (mostly from misha but also in general on the internet) amd i was scared. Then biden stepped down and I felt relieved and hopefull that harris could actually win this cause "whos gonna vote HIM again? Right???" Then (or maybe before ive lost semse of time) the assassination attempt happend and I got scared again cause he had just gained if nothing at least the coolest picture he could ever wish for. But after that so many people, celebrities and not, started endorsing her and I thought there was still hope

I remember how anxious i got in 2020 and the exact moment of relief seeing Georgia going blue. And that was bad because of covid and all the stress of that slow counting but this felt worse

I spent yesterday rewatching destiel episodes to celebrate the anniversary but also to distract myself from the election but at night I just could sleep i was so scared. I talked about it with all my friends and family but they were not feeling it like me. Like tes they were scared a bit but not... not in the same way. Maybe its because its my first year out? Half out (family still doesnt know) like... i fear for the queer people (and in gemeral all the people who might be endangered) in the us cause now i feel more in the community maybe? Idk but I couldnt sleep at all

This morning I woke up and spent the morning on the destiel tag and on the AP map watchung it going redder and redder every hour and now... i dont even know what to feel

Im at loss of words thoughts and feelings. I DONT KNOW

Im scared like if I couldve done somethng for it or if it could directly affect me. It will sure but not today tomorrow or in january. It will be slow and scary and ill have to watch it happen without tje possibility of doing anything about it. Just like i have seen two wars start and my vote been wasted into nothing when my own country elected the far right just this june

Im hopeless and so fucking scared rn and my friends look at me amd dont get why I feel like a lone freak going crazy over somethung i shouldnt care about when I know I actually have to and they should care too and idk how to warn them i dont know what to do

And im not even american. I cant begin to imagine how it feels to know you have even done anythung you could and it changed nothing

So right now I wanna tell you all of you americans that you are not alone. That we are as scared as you are. Maybe it might be totally useless know this but... to me just seeing on line people going nuts makes me feel less crazy so yeah

sorry for the bad english my brain cant think straight rn (or ever lol)

omg anon i'm so sorry i didn't see this until just now !

it's perfectly ok for you to vent in my inbox. let all your fears and worries out, don't bottle them up. i'm glad you at least won't be directly affected in the immediate future, and i hope to god it stays that way.

i'm very scared as well, especially being a woman of reproductive age in america. i live in a red state too, so i already have less freedoms than my friends and family in blue states. i don't know what the future holds for america or the world, and that thought is terrifying. but all we can do right now is cling tight to our loved ones and take care of each other the best we can. i hope things will turn out okay for us all 🫂💕

ps. keep watching those destiel episodes if they bring you even a little bit of comfort. i know they definitely do for me when i feel like i'm being suffocated by the weight of everything around me

[ygodmyy20]

Why am I writing Black Sweatshit?

I have been mulling this over for the last couple days (well, a week now cuz I never posted this haha) after getting some great advice from @tsukish11ma (thank yooou) AND THEN having my dash be filled with ???% meta which got my brain going like no tomorrow (Which was super fun cuz i had so much work to do and I had to like hide my phone haha )

But I have been pondering on it…. Why am I writing what I am writing? What do I want to add? Why am I writing this? I really want to find an answer.

The short answer: I wanted to write a story about how Shigeo deals with repression, but as an adult. That’s where this idea initially came from. And I just kinda fell in love with the ageswap au idea.

I admit that the story I am telling has extremely similar notes to the original. And cannon has many moments that tell this story in a better way. It is not a retelling, nor is that my intention

But I want to explore Shigeo/Mob at 25, grappling with how he left behind things he needed. And forced loved ones away from himself. How we can fall into despair with the best intentions. How he hurt people because he fell too deep. Even if none of it was his inherently his fault, he still hurt himself and others. And others hurt him too.

What happened with his relationship with his brother is his responsibility as much as it is Ritsu's.

He makes friends and it’s awkward and kinda weird and he has these feelings for these friends that he doesn’t understand. Some of them are soft and comforting, others make him feel bigger emotions that he likes but they are also scary.

He meets Reigen still, but Reigen can't BE everything for Mob like he was in canon. Mob has to do a lot, lot, LOT of work on his own.

And something I want to keep expiring is the fact that…Mob despises himself.

He hates himself.

Because he has never known to love himself. Being forced to use his powers was just the first step into having to look at himself directly and face who he is.

And I admit, for other characters, I am losing some weight with them like Teru or Shou and not having CLAW. I think about that loss often.

Believe me, if I could make Teru’s backstory worse, I would haha Sorry Teru you are used way too often for angst in my brain. But I also haven’t shared all the details of his upbringing. How do you know how bad it is? I like to hope my breadcrumbs revealed enough but not too much. Teru didn’t have to deal with CLAW but he has a complex relationship with his powers.

I still think they hold core parts of themselves. I hope.

Anyway these are just morning rambles as I head off to work on the train. I have wanted to finish this post for awhile.

I’m realizing I should just share my thoughts on my fic. I’m always afraid of spoiling but like??? If I wanna ramble about it maybe others want to hear it. I dunno.

[biggerbetterbat]

WITH YOU [30] THE KILLER I AM

Daryl Dixon x OC!Charlie Reed

Summary: Every action has its consequences. Charlie realizes what big burden the last wish of Lori puts on her. She tries to deal with the loss on her own.

Warnings: language, death

Song: Billie Eilish idontwannabeyouanymore

A/N: I had a writer block and tone of exams, but I'm back...I think. This chapter is shit, but I just want to get through this moment in my story. Prison era is one of my least favorite, so it's HARD and I'm struggling. Also I would like to clarify some things to this chapter:

Charlie won't have any romantic situationship with Carl

Charlie likes Maggie!!!!!!! (for now...), Glenn was the problem

So!!! Enjoy, give it love, and let me know how do you like it.

PS. I have NO IDEA if I already used this gif, sorry

Let me see the baby.

What are we gonna feed it?

We got anything a baby can eat?

The good thing is she looks healthy.

But she needs formula.

Charlie furrowed her eyebrows. Everything and everyone felt so away as if she was standing behind a glass or underwater, or else...maybe she was still in that boiler room. "And soon or she won't survive," was the first sentence she could match to a person. Hershel was talking with Daryl, and the baby was still crying.

"We ain't losing nobody else," the other man said. "I'm going for a run."

"I'll back you up," Maggie proposed without a second thought.

Charlie wanted to volunteer as well, but her mouth just didn't want to cooperate with her brain. She was just standing there with bloody, shaky hands.

"I'll go, too," Glenn said right after his girlfriend.

"Okay, think we're going. Beth," Daryl nodded and stepped aside with the younger girl. Charlie couldn't hear what he was saying but felt his eyes on her as he did, and then he looked over at Carl. He must have said something like keep an eye on them, but would Beth really be a reliable person to give two lives to..."You two get the fence. Too many pile-ups, we got ourselves a problem," he gestured towards the two prisoners."Hey," Daryl touched her arm delicately. "I'll be back soon, okay?"

He saw her eyes wandering around, but she wasn't present.

She was so far away at that moment. Maybe part of her was still in the boiler room, maybe part of her was in the quarry, on the farm, or maybe even in Atlanta. Maybe a small part of her was in her family house, surrounded by her brothers, mom, and even dad. It couldn't be her life. She must be sleeping, because there was no way she could kill a person.

"Charlie, I need you to look at me," he said, but she did what he said after he placed a hand on her cheek. "I'm going for a run. I'll be back as soon as possible. Look over Carl, and don't do anything stupid. Charlie?"

"Okay," she whispered, and after she nodded to strengthen her response. Then she felt his lips on her temple.

"Rick!" Maggie called in fear.

To this moment he was sitting as if he was made out of the stone. He didn't hug Carl, didn't ask how he felt, he didn't even look at the baby. He was too deep in his own loss to even notice how other people dealt with the loss. Now she could only see his back as he was going in the direction of a place where his wife died. She could have let both of them die as it didn't make any difference if the baby was alive. At least then she wouldn't have blood on her hands and guilt in her whole body.

"Come on! We're gonna lose light!" Daryl yelled, snapping Charlie from her thoughts.

Memories of the events were hunting her -the longer it was from it, the more pictures were flashed in front of her eyes. Nothing seemed to wash off the blood she had on her hands, she still felt its weight on her skin, and the smell lingered too deep to get rid of it - even though they had been cleaned for a long time. Charlie couldn't be in the same room as the baby, she couldn't even look at the little girl. Her cry was remembering her of Lori who was screaming in pain, and who was the cause of the pain she was experiencing.

"Are you okay?" she heard a weak question and then felt someone's body next to her.

"I should be the one asking you this question," Charlie said looking at the boy, but the moment she crossed eyes with him, she looked away in shame.

"I don't blame you, you know?" Carl said. "You did what you needed to do. I wouldn't have a sister if you didn't do that. And I wouldn't have a mom either."

Charlie looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. "Maybe there was a way to save her."

"It doesn't matter," he said.

"It does Carl," she said. "It makes the whole difference in the world. Your mom asked me to do something cruel. She decided for both of us...for all of us. But she died. And we have to live with consequences."

"You can always count on me," he said, nodding his head. "And I won't be a burden. My sister either."

Charlie looked at him in the daylight, with a sober brain. His eyes were puffy and now he looked like the boy that he was. He was scared - just like Charlie, and he was scared that he was left alone with a baby because his dad was gone. Lori took Rick with her, at least some part of Rick - the sane and strong one.

"Come here," she spread her arms and pulled Carl to her body, wrapping her hands around him in a carrying gesture. She wanted to show him support, she would never be his mother or replace one of his parents, but he would always find a friend in her. He started crying into her chest as if she were his pillow, so no one would hear his sobs, and it was only breaking her heart. "I'm so sorry," Charlie whispered into his hair. It was the moment to kill their old versions and let them be gone with Lori. But at that moment they didn't know how big part of them they were letting go; moreover, they didn't know that they would never see each other in the same way as before. Carl would never be the annoying kid, following her around like a lost puppy, and she would never be the girl who felt satisfied by upsetting him. They didn't know that they would be basically one person one day...

It got only worse when it was getting darker, and there were still no signs of Daryl and Maggie, and Rick was still hiding in a boiler room. Charlie saw the looks she was getting the whole day, but besides Carl, no one had enough courage to approach her. It seemed that her friends were giving her much-needed space, and the two prisoners were keeping their distance - as they should because it was all their fault. They should have sent them away without food or water, or just let them die the moment they found them, maybe then...

Charlie swallowed.

The scariest thing was that Lori was alive when she cut her open, so Charlie killed a perfectly fine woman and became a cause of why two kids became orphans. She promised to protect those two, but she knew very well that she had to break the promise. Carl would do whatever he wanted, and her opinion wouldn't matter - especially now, when he felt responsible and in his eyes he was an adult. And she just couldn't look at the baby, so it was impossible to raise it.

"Hey," Glenn almost whispered, sitting next to her.

Awkward silence.

"The baby is doing good," he said. "She's probably hungry, and water is not doing the job, but it's good. She's good. Have you seen her?"

"No," Charlie clenched her teeth. "And I don't care about it."

Glenn opened his eyes wider.

Probably, if they still were on the farm, he would help her or comfort her. But their relations were cold as if they burnt with Hershel's house. She needed her best friend, but didn't know how to break the distance that with each day was growing. Glenn didn't know that either. He knew it was his fault, he became distant and forgot about her, as he had a whole family on his shoulder. But Charlie wasn't helpful either, if she wanted to reanimate this friendship, he saw no sign of it.

"Still no sign of them?"

"No."

"I don't know if you noticed, but...T-Dog is dead..." Charlie gasped and her eyes filled with tears again. That's what Daryl meant when he said that they are not losing anyone anymore. "He was closing the gate when they got him. Then they disappeared with Carol."

"Is she..."

"I don't know," he shook his head. "There were too many...And she was alone with T-Dog. She probably didn't make it."

Glenn's intention wasn't to make her feel bad, but she did. If she was feeling like shit before, then now she felt even worse than that. That's why she swallowed a big lump and looked at her friend from behind tears. "Why are you telling this to me?"

"Because I want to show you that we lost more than Lori, okay?" he touched her shoulder. "It was a horrible day and we can all feel it."

"No!" she yelled. "It's not the same. We lost T-Dog. You didn't kill him. I'm feeling this way because your girlfriend couldn't handle it. She made a wrong decision, and when things went south she just cried. And someone had to do it. And if it weren't me then...it's enough that he shot her after. We're not the same! Do you know how it feels to kill someone? No! Do you have any idea what a horrible thing is to feel somebody's hot blood running down your hands? How scary it is when you hear them screaming and then...suddenly... you don't? You have no idea!" she yelled at him. "And I can't stand the baby! Because looking at her remembers me of the killer I am!"

She was looking into his eyes in shock that those words finally left her lips and suddenly something snapped. Charlie started crying so hard that she couldn't breathe, the only thing coming out of her mouth was You don't know and We are not the same. And Glenn was with her through the whole time. Like a true man, he was holding her, listening to accusations, and fighting his tears as his heart was breaking. But one thing that came out of her mouth just shattered his body and soul.

"And you left me."

"I'm here now," he said, but as she kept repeating that he didn't care for her anymore, he pushed her away and shook her by her shoulders. "You left me too!"

Charlie stopped crying and was looking at him in shock.

"You left me, too," he said again. "You kept walking away, wishing to be dead and not telling me. I thought I lost you on the farm, and when I found you on the highway you were not the same. I wanted your support, when I became a source of support for Maggie...and her sister...and Hershel. But you stopped talking to me, thinking that I don't want you anymore. You left me, too."

Charlie swallowed. She never looked at this that way.

"But I'm here now," he said, easing his grip. "And I want my sister back."

It was dark already when Daryl and Maggie were back. Everyone took a breath of relief when Daryl was forcing a bottle with formula between the little girl's mouth. Charlie was sitting on the stairs clutching onto the railing for her life, her instinct was to run as far as she could.

"She got a name yet?" Daryl asked.

"Not yet," Carl shook his head. "But I was thinking maybe Sofia. There's Carol, too. And...Andrea. Amy. Jacqui. Patricia. Or Lori..."

"Better not naming her after the dead ones," Charlie said quietly, but she was heard. Glenn nodded.

"Then maybe Charlie," Carl proposed.

So she could carry a name after a woman who murdered her mother...But Charlie decided to bite her tongue this time and used all of her power to smile. "You will come up with something better."

"I don't know..." Carl shook his head.

"Yeah? Do you like that? Little ass-kicker? Right?" Daryl cooed and Charlie was amazed at how this big and rough man can be so soft for a baby. "That's a good name, right?"

Charlie crossed her eyes with him. Maybe in different circumstances, she would look at him with the baby and think about how it fits him. Maybe she would even think about some alternative world where they have their own kids. But now she saw him as some man who can't make anything better - even though till yesterday she believed he could - with a baby whose mother she killed. And couldn't share the enthusiasm as the rest of the group. So she just backed out, still not being able to be in one room as the baby. 

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[liliallowed]

I think we should stop talking about weight loss or gain. that shits both personal and subjective.

instead let's be proud of taking care of our health and our body without the need to specify the details.

I'm eating well. I'm healthy and I go for small walks! that's great!

i have been told many times that exercise can brighten up your mood... uhm they're wrong. it won't.

not unless you're in a good mood. which kinda beats the whole argument 😂.

again I won't pretend to be some role model or give cliche advice. it's just me sharing my experience.

going for a walk makes it worse for me... but I think it has been a while since I went to go for a walk because I simply... wanted to? it has always been a chore or an obligation because I'm responsible for my health so I must force myself to fuck off and go for a walk I never enjoy.

I always thought of it as "the cure" or like medicine.

it's really not. specially when you force yourself.

sure it regulates blood its supposed to help you loosen up but uhm... not if every time your heart is about to burst out of your chest with anxiety.

if I'm having a bad day my mood brightens up when I disassociate to music and animations.

it's like a small brain reset. it's probably not healthy but with walking my brain gets over stimulated and bored at the same time.

walking makes it worse. unless I listen to music.

but then I'd walk straight into a car accident so we can't exactly rely on autopilot lili to run this body while I go daydreaming 😂.

I dunno. I never really found fitness gun unless I was in a good mood.

right now I'm glad I'm in that mood to do it!

idk how my brain did it or what I did to make this feeling magically manifest but I suddenly don't feel like wanting to flop on the floor all day! yay???

brain I fucking hate you. you mean to tell me neurotypical people feel like they can do stuff and just ... DO IT!?. like this feeling I'm having rn due to the meds?

BRAIN FUCK YOU.

but also like thanks for working a lil better.

it's okay buddy I know you're like an unbalanced dark souls playable characters.

you magic stat is off the charts but your stamina and defense is 0 with avrage speed and agility...

BUT YOU'RE OVERPOWERED IN MAGIC ABD WOULD BEAT GOD...

if you could walk.

yeah. don't worry I see your strength brain. but can we please remember to appreciate these small steps?

look I'm probably not going to feel like this forever.

idk what makes my executive decide to function but right now it's in the mood to do it.

SO MAKE IT FUCKING COUNT!

[fuckitalltbh2]

making my own post about ed while actually medically obese.

I've been doing this shit since 11 or younger, my weight went from average to uw but didn't have scales or much photos survive all the time. I almost went the mi@ route even without Internet (mid 20s)

I became medically obese because I developed BED after traumatic events along with psych meds in my early 20s.

I developed full blown anorexia at 22, kick started by going to a dietician that put me on diets that were legit 500 calories. Despite all of my behaviour, I restricted without calories counting and didn't know much. Then I learned about it through "normal ppl" weight loss places and here we are.

I lost weight very fast until I reached 60 kg, from 106 kg to 60 in about 4-5 months.

I recovered for a while at 25, but it was unmonitored and basically a big binge cycle. I went through a fitbro era there, macros obsessed and protein, but the binging got to me.

First of all, everyone will say mean comments. You'll be ashamed to get out of the house and you know it's not in your head. You're actually obese, the number say it, people say it to your face.

Second, when you start restricting. Everyone is happy about your diet. For me it's all I could talk about, excited about my progress, obsessed. No one considered it wrong, they enabled and fueled my behaviour more.

Third, you'd go through different phases of weight loss and different bodies. People will have comments "yeah you're good but your body still has a belly or thighs or whatever, you need to lose more"

Fourth, you'll be praised for your control and refusing food. You're known as the diet person. "I wish I had your control, wish I was that lucky". People will come to you for tips. One triggering moment when I told a fat person at the time while I was skinny aka average, that I lost it in 5 month and they said not fast enough.

Fifth, you're going to deny your ed because it's "not bad enough" despite having all the rot, symptoms, behaviors, everything. Because you're not at your ugw or uw.

Sixth, plateau at an average weight hurts like a mf, hair fell out, heart was aching like crazy, my teeth were damaged from c/s and binging. All that shit.

Seventh. Yes loose skin, lots of it, collapsed stomach muscles, collapsed muscles in your arms. Even if you become ugw, your body will not look like sp0 and you'll feel like shit.

Eighth, god forbids if you decide to recover or enter a binge cycle. God fucking forbids, everyone will bully you. They'd say you lost your control. Pull up old pictures and say how pretty and skinny you were (mother in my case), everyone will do that. Even now, my family still fat shames me, throws around comments I need to diet or hit the gym.

Ninth, tip, keep your fucking clothes and store them. I'm lucky I still had all my old obese clothes because I would have had to buy an entire wardrobe. "it's not gonna be me I'll stay skinny", nope trust me, lies, ed is unpredictable, it's a disease and mental disorder. The @n@ to bed pipeline is real. I don't mean to scare anyone, but I think some of you know this already.

Tenth, again people will notice your relapse and encourage it even if they know about your ed history.

11th, recovery places are toxic as shit. They have attractive to skinny people, lip service, and predatory in the financial sense. Plus, the people are comptetive even there. I rather talk about my recovery with my ed friends that I've known for a while. It's not as triggering. Also, you can recover however you fucking want, there's no script, harm reduce, whatever. You don't have to listen to anyone asides from a therapist if they are right for you . Plus, recovery accounts are restriction focused not mi@ or bed friendly, similar to here in a way, 🤷🏻

For me personally, working on the thoughts and reducing the habits. But I want a lifestyle change to reach an average weight and stay there. All the brain rot still lives, but it's a compromise because I can't cope with still being obese.

[wambsgansshoelaces]

hi! i’m the anon that called u numba one 🏆 just saw ur post about living with pcos and struggling with weight loss. i don’t have pcos, but i have endometriosis and a whole arsenal of ailments that would take forever to list. oh also im a wlw like u 😁i’m not the wisest person, but i will say that you have to be kind to yourself. even when you’re crying seven times in the doctors office. feel the disappointment, and the sadness, and know that it will not go on forever. sometimes being kind to yourself is allowing yourself to be sad without feeling weak for being sad. no one knows what’s going on in your mind but you, so let it flow freely. also you’re a fantastic writer,,, i literally have your notifs on and check your page everyday, and that’s coming from someone who’s been reading fanfiction for like 10 years. not many people can envision a scene so human and translate it into words as you do. your execution is flawless, but not clinical and robotic, it evokes warmth and real emotion. you give that freely to the general public of tumblr, and you should know we love you and your beautiful brain for it. i hope you find comfort in knowing other people like you are provided with a safe escape in your writing, if only for a moment. lord knows we do.

(ps, try intermittent fasting if you haven’t already ;))

(p.p.s. call me 🏆 anon )

anon will you give me a hug

I feel like you’re the older sibling I don’t actually have- tangent but my parents aren’t exactly the best people and I’m the eldest of all my siblings so you leaving this for me in my ask box genuinely made me cry. I’m so grateful that I finally have people who care and are so kind and thoughtful 🩷 I really will try and take your advice. It’s just that I’ve felt so upset and have had so much pent up depression that it’s just so difficult for me to not think I’m a horrible person just because I’m sad all the time if you know what I mean

and yes I’m wlw and still trying to come to terms with that yk? like I wish I could be loud and proud but I just can’t bc of what’s around me

and you have notifs on??? oh my god I’m so honored!!!! I need to stop shitposting… sorry for lol of the garbage you’ve seen 🏆…

what you’ve said about my writing is on god the nicest, most wonderful thing anyone’s ever said to or about me. you don’t understand what it means to me when you say my writing evokes emotion and makes you feel things. genuinely I have no words in response to that, I’m just so honored and just happy that you think so. coming from years of just a depressed state, I’d cling to any sort of media- tv shows, films, especially x reader fanfiction because it made it like I wasn’t actually suffering and that I have someone who loves me. I know nobody wants to read about this lol but genuinely (I’ve said that a million times already), genuinely, I could die tomorrow happy knowing that my work has made people feel better or made people just happy. I’m so, so, glad that my work is an escape for you. you’re always welcome on my blog, in my ask box, in my pms, whatever. I love you so so much 🫶🏽

(I’m really trying with food… my relationship is so unhealthy with it but I’ll let you know how it goes!)

[alisria]

if i have to see that fucking post about how "actually it's impossible to lose weight and you should never be recommended weight loss for your health and you can never ever keep weight off and if you diet you will Starve To Death" one more time i am going to actually commit an act of violence (after seeing it for the sixth fucking time and getting mad about it AGAIN i have finally blocked op instead of just continuing to unfollow whoever put it on my dash)

i put my rant under a readmore because i was writing it in tags and it got too long if anyone tries to fucking debate me about any of this you are getting blocked i seriously do not give a fuck this is a VENT POST because im EXTREMELY ANGRY

i understand that this sentiment can be valuable for people with restrictive eating disorders. you are allowed to eat and nourish your body and not feel guilty. but saying that "oh your knees wont hurt as much and your LDL/A1C will improve but thats it it's otherwise Very Unhealthy" is grossly negligent

ldl? you mean cholesterol? a1c? you mean blood sugar levels? you mean by eating in a way that nourishes your body but not in significant excess will help prevent heart disease and type 2 diabetes? which are lifelong medical conditions that can be expensive to live with in countries with no socialized health care?

how about instead of lying and saying that Losing Weight Is Bad we talk about eating varieties of nutrient-dense foods. we talk about adding in foods that are good for our bodies and slowly reducing the amount of foods that are genetically engineered to make you crave more and more and are sold by companies that do not give a shit about your health

like. eating 1500 calories a day is not a starvation diet for anyone under 5 foot 4. it is for taller people. because who would have thought people with larger frames need more energy to make their bodies work. because there is more of them to move around.

weight loss AND weight gain are morally neutral!! stop acting like One of them is good and one of them is evil!!! i understand that not every post is about me but like fuck!! seriously!!! this is the Misinformation Website!!! "this is all googleable" okay but you are also using extremely biased language. you are telling people to google 'starvation diet'. of course they will find information about people LITERALLY STARVING. 'i am a doctor just trust me bro' my doctor is the same with the body positive shit i had to CONVINCE her that losing weight would be worthwhile for me for a multitude of reasons. she finally fucking agreed with me after i said "listen. i felt so much better emotionally, physically, and mentally at [X] lbs. i could tie my own shoelaces without sitting down. i could run a mile without collapsing. using the fucking restroom is easier. i wasn't getting fucking TRAPPED on the floor. and now i weigh [Y] lbs and cant put on my own socks and i am fucking crippled and walk with a cane. i am MISERABLE. and i am STILL MISERABLE after finally being on medication that helps with my brain because i am in EXCRUCIATING PAIN every waking moment, and it even fucking wakes me up at night. i cant sleep. i cant do *anything*." and she finally had to say "yeah okay maybe it would help to lose some weight" LIKE I SHOULD NOT HAVE TO CONVINCE YOU TO BE OKAY WITH ME DOING SOMETHING THAT IS GOOD FOR ME.

this shit makes me SO FUCKING ANGRY. i have seen a dietician, who has graduated me from seeing her. i do not have an eating disorder. but these fucking posts that are just LYING are actively triggering!!!

for the love of god there are communities of people out there who have lost a significant amount of weight, have kept it off, and are EXTREMELY supportive for people who want that for themselves! people who choose to stick around once theyre in "maintenance" (staying at a weight that is healthy for them) because they want to help people improve their lives! acting like NO ONE keeps the weight off is just wrong!!

some of us have fucked up hunger cues!! some of us have adapted overeating as an unhealthy coping mechanism!! as a form of self-harm!! and these things deserve to be faced with kindness and understanding, not "You Will Fail, You Will Fail, You Must Stay Fat"

being fat is morally neutral!! being thin is morally neutral!! you are not a bad person for wanting to gain weight! you are not a bad person for wanting to lose weight! you are not a bad person for wanting to stay the same weight! you are not a bad person for not even being concerned about your weight! but by fucking god you are allowed to feel happy and comfortable with your body in whatever shape it is, and if you know you would be happier in a different shape, you are allowed to work for that!!! fuck!!!!!!!!!!!!!