#i could be wrong. but i dont care right now.

[hsnlv]

soft beginnings | s.jy

pairing: dad-to-be!jake x mom-to-be!reader

synopsis: you and jake are getting ready for your baby, but jake’s full of doubts about fatherhood. with plenty of laughter, love, and tiny socks, you learn that even the smallest moments can mean the world.

warnings: fluff!, jake has self-doubt but it’s adorable dont worry >< reader is pregnant if that is not clear (i love pregnant tropes actually because it’s cute hehe)

wc: 1.1k

a/n: ive been writing a lot lately since im currently on semester break but enjoy ^^

jake sat on the nursery floor, holding a pair of impossibly small socks between his fingers like they were some kind of alien artifact. his brows were furrowed, lips pressed into a pout that you would’ve called adorable if he wasn’t so deadly serious.

“okay, babe,” he said finally, holding the socks up for emphasis. “these cannot be for a human. i don’t care what you say.”

you couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing from your spot on the rocking chair, where you were sorting through a mountain of baby clothes. “jake, they’re for a newborn. they’re supposed to be that tiny.”

he squinted at the socks like they might reveal their secrets if he stared long enough. “nope. sorry. these are for a hamster. or maybe a very small rabbit.”

“are you calling our baby a rabbit?” you teased, grinning as you leaned back in the chair.

“i’m just saying,” he continued, waving the socks around like he was making a grand point. “what if their feet don’t fit? what if their toes are too big? i don’t even know what baby feet look like!”

you laughed so hard that tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. “you’re ridiculous.”

“i’m serious!” he insisted, though the twitch of his lips betrayed him. “what if i try to put these on and they just… fall off? or what if i lose one? it’s not like i can run to the store and ask for replacement jellybean-sized socks!”

that did it—you dissolved into giggles, your belly shaking as you leaned forward. “jake, you’re going to be fine,” you said, wiping your eyes. “i promise, putting socks on a baby isn’t as hard as you think.”

he flopped dramatically onto his back, groaning. “i’m not ready for this.”

“you are,” you said, crawling over to him and sitting on your knees by his side. you rested your chin on his chest, tilting your head to look up at him. “you’re going to be the best dad ever.”

he gazed down at you, his expression softening, but you could still see the hint of doubt in his eyes. “you really think so?”

“i know so,” you said, reaching up to brush a strand of hair out of his face. “you’ve got the dad jokes down already. the rest is just practice.”

he groaned again, dragging a hand down his face. “yeah, but what about the important stuff? like… like making bottles. or changing diapers! do you know how many straps and tabs those things have? it’s like trying to assemble IKEA furniture!”

you snorted, pressing your forehead to his chest as you laughed. “it’s not that bad.”

“it is that bad,” he said, sitting up suddenly. his hands flailed a bit as he tried to explain. “and what if i don’t wake up when the baby cries? or—or what if i hold them wrong? what if i drop them? oh my god, what if i don’t know how to swaddle? they’re gonna hate me.”

“jake.” you placed your hands on his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. “take a deep breath.”

he inhaled shakily, his wide eyes locking onto yours.

“you’re not going to drop the baby,” you said firmly. “or hold them wrong. and even if you mess up the first swaddle, or it takes you a few tries to get the diaper right, it’s okay. you’ll figure it out.”

he didn’t look entirely convinced, so you leaned closer, your voice softer now. “do you remember when we first got peanut?”

he blinked, his brows furrowing. “our dog?”

“yeah. you were so nervous about training him. you kept googling everything, and you were convinced he was going to hate you because you couldn’t get him to sit on command.”

jake huffed, his lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “okay, yeah, but peanut was a little menace at first.”

“he was,” you agreed, grinning. “but you didn’t give up. you were so patient and sweet with him, and now he listens to you better than he listens to me.”

jake let out a soft laugh, his shoulders relaxing a bit.

“it’s going to be the same with the baby,” you said, brushing your thumbs gently over his cheekbones. “you’re going to love them so much that none of the little mistakes will matter. and they’re definitely not going to hate you for struggling with a diaper or two.”

“you sure about that?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

“absolutely,” you said, smiling.

he sighed, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours. “what would i do without you?”

“probably drown in a pile of tiny socks,” you teased, laughing softly.

“you’re not wrong,” he muttered, but he was smiling again.

you both sat there for a moment, the quiet hum of the nursery filling the air. then jake pulled back slightly, his hand drifting to your belly.

“hey, little one,” he murmured, his voice soft and warm. “just so you know, your mom’s the best person in the world. so if i mess up, she’s gonna make sure you’re taken care of. and if you could, uh… maybe go easy on me with the diapers, that’d be great.”

you laughed, swatting at his shoulder. “stop making deals with the baby!”

“what? i’m just saying!” he said, grinning.

he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your belly, murmuring something too quiet for you to hear. when he sat up again, his eyes were brighter, his usual spark returning.

“okay,” he said, grabbing the tiny socks and holding them up like a trophy. “we’re definitely framing these.”

“i knew you’d come around,” you said, smiling as you kissed his cheek.

the rest of the afternoon was spent folding onesies and arranging books on the shelves, with jake tossing out ridiculous questions every five minutes.

“what if the baby doesn’t like my cooking?”

“jake, they’re not going to eat anything you cook for at least a year.”

“what if they cry every time i pick them up?”

“then you’ll hold them until they stop crying.”

“what if they call me ‘dude’ instead of ‘dad’?”

“then they’re definitely your kid.”

by the time the sun dipped below the horizon, the nursery was mostly finished. the crib stood in the corner, draped with a soft, pastel blanket, and the bookshelf was packed with stories you couldn’t wait to read aloud.

you stood in the doorway with jake, his arm around your shoulders as you both took in the space.

“it’s perfect,” you murmured, leaning into his side.

“almost perfect,” he said, resting a hand on your belly. “just missing one thing.”

you smiled, your hand covering his. “they’ll be here soon enough.”

he pressed a kiss to your temple, his voice filled with quiet awe. “soon enough,” he echoed.

and in that moment, surrounded by love and laughter and the promise of something even sweeter, you knew your little family was already complete in all the ways that mattered.

[punkkture]

only his

you were just being sweet, its not your fault he took it the wrong way. but you should be grateful that he was doing this for you . . he was just trying to keep you safe.

part one ⋆.˚ part two

simon riley x f!reader

word count: 3.2k

warnings: 18+ , kidnapper!simon , taboo material , degradation, age difference , size difference , implied ddlg dynamics , pet play , sadism , simon is mean asf

c.ai bot

“you are home sweetie.”

you dont know why but that made it all ache even worse. made it ache worse than when he put the collar around your neck - than when he forced you to sit on his lap and drink whatever roofie he had mixed. the tears came out harder as you laid on the floor by his feet.

simon’s shoulders relaxed a little at this. his rough hand came up and started to brush up and down your back. feeling the ridges of your spine that were a little more prominent as the weeks had passed. his hands working in an attempt to comfort you instead of grabbing you.

“theres no need to cry. i’ve kept you for a reason. its not like i’m going to kill you.”

heart picking up, he could see the shift in your demeanor. how you were teetering between that docility and the true emotions you wanted to let out. he knew he won when he heard the shakiness in your voice. “what’s that supposed to mean?” your lips spoke. even if your words held threat, he knew he was on the right path with the way you pulled your tone.

his dense fingers continued to move up and down your spine, giving gentle and methodical touches as they went. his face held no expression. “it means you have the privilege of being mine. you should be grateful.”

your skin shivered and created goosebumps at his touch. not sure how to react to it. it was all so scary. you didnt know what to say back. how were you supposed to feel grateful in a moment like this? he took you from your life.

simon had to figure this out. he had to figure out how to get you to crack. to crave him and yearn for him. looking at him like he was a protector. because whether you saw it that way or not, he was. he is your protector.

he wanted nothing more than to have you give in. to stop struggling and start asking him to hold you. to start seeing him as a sanctuary, a safe place to come home to.

his hand finally stopped those gentle movements he used to draw you in. those fingers coming around to the side of your face. cupping the length of your jaw and turning your head to look at him. your heart and mind are completely tense and rigid, but your body shows no resistance to him. obedience could be led by a hair.

“say thank you.”

your eyes struggled to meet his. but when he gave a warning tap to your cheek, your pupils full of fear and exhaustion, looked up into his. he looked calm, at peace. “why should i tell you thank you?” you breathed out shakily and quiet.

those fingers adjusted the grip on your face, feeling the warm skin heat his cold fingers. his eyes narrowed, cold and callous. deep, dark, and genuinely never ending. not being able to see where his pupils started or stopped. to you, he always looked like a predator that was completely dilated. you were the little bunny for dinner.

“because i say so. youre mine now, remember that, puppy. be thankful im keeping you instead of selling you to the highest bidder. do you understand me?”

your lips twitched and a small gasp threatened to escape. but all that came out was a small shudder. your eyes were still stuck on his. he was being serious, you could tell. “y-you’d sell me?”

god he loved that voice. simon could’ve groaned at that little whimper in your voice. such a timid little pet.

his grip loosened a little bit as his hand moved to caress your cheek. his touch caring and kind, a complete contrast of his words. he sighed. “only when you piss me off enough to do so. im not in the market of pawning the things i claim, unless they're really ungrateful,” his eyes narrowed again, “are you ungrateful sweetheart?”

simon’s eyes watched your face. watched how you processed everything. how you took it all in. he knew you understood he was being genuine. he was serious enough to actually kidnap you, of course he would be insane enough to sell you. his hand continued to caress your soft skin. he was waiting for your answer.

that expression of his changing from cold and callous to a hint of annoyance. he was starting to get impatient - the answer wasn’t that complicated.

“i said, are you ungrateful?” he asked again.

the frustrated grip and raised voice snapped you back into reality. simon saw the way your eyes focused back onto what was in front of you. “no! no . . . im not ungrateful.” you quickly spoke back. you didn't want to be here, but you’d rather be here than some beaten down warehouse that was turned into a human auction house.

feeling his hand drop from your jaw, release that tight grip - his demeanor shifting of that into a carer again. a satisfied smirk appeared on his cracked lips. his fingers brushing back some of your hair.

“then you should say thank you, puppy. because you have a lot to be thankful for.” he spoke in a much calmer tone.

those eyes boring into you felt like they were starting to burn your skin. “thank you.” your voice is timid and quiet, speaking out of fear. the smirk on his lips grew into a bit of a smile at your response. “see? that wasn't so hard was it sweetie?” he teased a bit, his thumb moving to your bottom lip. rubbing against it and slightly pushing down to examine the pink skin.

　 　. ⋆ ✴︎ ݁ ˖ ˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ . 　

days have passed.

simon hadn’t softened any. it's been two weeks of gruff and agitated energy surrounding you. but today for some reason he seemed to be in an even worse mood. his voice louder and more rigid. those occasional sweet touches he gave were nowhere to be found. he was on edge, it was written all over him, in everything he did. his eyes cold and narrowed at everything, his voice snapping at any word spoken to him. he was pissed, and for no good reason at that.

you seemed to try and figure it out. there were bags under his eyes. he looked exhausted. you both were. it almost was like a standoff between two enemies. constantly. you were on edge, still and taking in his every breath. analyzing the tone of it and the deeper meaning of all his words. hoping to not anger him.

simon hasn’t been able to sleep since you arrived - and the only thing his body seemed to want, was you. tense muscles and breaths that were slicing the air he stepped in front of.

you sat on the floor of his living room. watching him pace around like a caged animal. he was acting like a damn rabid dog. he kept you right on the brink of decent. thrown into a pair of his boxers and one of his old long sleeve military shirts. that black leather collar still rubbing against the soft skin of your neck. the long leash cording down and around your body like a snake.

thankfully, he had been a little more lenient with keeping the leash so closely attached to his hand, but that didn't mean he would take it off.

this was frustrating. you were frustrating him. those sweet innocent eyes that were looking up at him like he was a monster. that angered him. he was your savior. my god he was saving you from all those awful sins the world harvested. a groan crawled its way up and out of his throat, stopping his pacing movements.

“come here.” he stated. not like a request. just a command. like you were his dog.

the brain in your head was working on primal intuition. when you are put into a scary situation, your body will do whatever it needs to to survive. so your eyes fluttered up to his face and then back down to his neck. it was scary looking him in the eye, you don't look rabid dogs in the eye. you don't look simon riley in the eye.

feeling the leash clank against your skin as your legs twitched to help you stand. they were getting weaker. your body was starting to reject what was happening to it.

he raised his hand and pointed to the floor in front of him. “no. not like that. crawl to me. you don’t deserve to walk on those legs of yours.”

his voice rang into your ears like how baby bunnies would react to hearing thunder for the first time. paralyzed and frozen in fear with eyes that looked up into the clouds with a sense of caution and longing that the sky wouldn’t do that again - naive hope that the universe would apologize for its outburst of anger.

but just as your body was frozen, the flash of lightning came, accompanying the thunder.

simon’s hand came out, wrapped tightly around the leash and pulled you down to the ground. the yanking of the leather forced you to your hands and knees. your eyes looking up to him - that baby bunny praying to the sky - looking up into those deep and irritated eyes. he was above you, even when he was crouching down the height difference was still prominent. creating a never ending power dynamic that shivered your soul.

he was stressed, he was angry, he felt sleep deprived. he was always watching over you. always making sure you were still here, he needed to put this outlet to good use right now. so on edge that even the small things like how the coffee table looked was making him mad right now. he needed to let off steam. something - someone to give into.

his feet planted themselves onto the ground in front of you. his hand coming to the top of your head, grabbing a fist full of your hair as he lowered himself to your level. you gasped at the sudden contact. shaking and soft hands gripping onto his forearm. your scalp starting to burn from his angered grip. he crouched down, his breath against your neck.

“you make me so goddamn frustrated.”

little frantic breaths picking up and making you panic more. “i-i didn't do anything?” your brows furrowed into a pathetic and worried curve. his lips moved closer to your ear, his fingers tightening around your hair. “you're making me on edge, and it's driving me up a wall.” he spoke.

your eyelids blinked in confusion. then why am i here? why is he keeping me here? just let me go!

“then why am i still here?” you breathed out, quiet and docile.

those cracked lips of his moved from your ear to your neck. they gently nipped at the skin before he spoke again. “because i don't want to get rid of you. you may be a pain in the ass, but i need you.” his mouth started to tenderly press and nip at your neck. leaving sticky open mouth kisses.

your body stiffened. but he had been so rough and sharp the last couple days, you hated to admit the sweet and gentle touches almost felt welcomed. it was better than him hitting you and tying you to a pole in the basement. simon’s voice wasn't as icy as before his commands. your soft hair in his fingers and the warm feeling of your skin against his lips helped calm his aggravated mood. it was like the perfect dosage of oxycodone. calming and relaxing him just enough to barely blink his eyes all the way closed. just enough to get him to not be so pent up about tomorrow's worries.

you started to feel safer almost. in this moment in time, it could’ve been worse.

“why?” you spoke after a couple seconds of silence.

“why what?” simon asked in between sucking on your neck. one of his hands pulled your hair a little bit again, forcing your head up towards the ceiling. he needed more of this soft warmth. “why don't i want to get rid of you, or why do i need you?” his teeth gently nipping into the side of your neck and making a small mark. chuckling to himself when he had to pull the collar out of the way so he could really get to the spot he wanted.

“both.”

it wasn't often he talked to you like that. wasn't often he treated you as human. so you took the wins where you could. letting his warm lips and teeth move against your body. trying to keep your voice steady. it was like walking on a frozen lake where you weren’t sure how thick the ice was.

he continued suck and bite at your neck, making sure the area was nice and bruised - marked as his.

“because you make me feel something i haven't felt in a long time, puppy. and because you’re mine. and i don't like to share my things. especially the ones i worked so hard to get.”

a soft wince escaped your lips when his teeth bit a little harder. his lips pulled away, giving a gentle kiss to the spot. you could’ve sworn you felt his thumb caress the hair his hand was so tightly holding. it was sweet. it was affectionate. and he was having an actual conversation with you. not lashing out and teasing, mocking or degrading.

this was new. this was human. one of your hands going to his chest, resting there as if you were asking him to be more gentle. his body shivered at that strange acceptance from you.“why me?” you said softly, asking the question you had been wondering.

the unfamiliar and strange energy between you two was making simon happy. very happy. all those times he was angry and awful to you just made his soft touches so featherlight and desirable. it was making him relax. his teeth let go of the spot on your neck, his tongue gently soothing over it.

after he made sure the spot would leave a deep bruise, he pulled back a little. his eyes looking down at you on the floor, gazing up at him. it warmed his heart and made him smile a little. even he thought about your question for a second. he sighed, and then answered. “you just are. you were sitting in that little library just . . . existing . . and i felt something inside of me break. that was it. you were mine. you still are and forever will be. this is where you belong and i hope you come to accept that, my puppy.”

your eyes looked into his. your neck started to ache from how he was angling your head back. but there was a sense of hope in your eyes. hope that he was human, he was showing you he was human - for a moment if you could pretend the leash wasn't around your neck, this would almost feel normal.

you licked your dry lips, always so cracked now from breathing and panting through your mouth. the seasons cold weather nipping in through the windows . . . but its alright . . he never let you get too close to those anyway.

simon could sense the fear in your breath. the shudders past your pretty lips. those little flutters of caution your eyelashes would blink. this was working perfectly in his favor. if he was brutal six out of seven days, your body would learn to crave that seventh day. it would learn to want him and need him to survive.

in the same sense of how people needed religion. they need faith in something to keep going. one way or another, he was going to figure out how to be your faith.

his gaze softened. his hand letting go of your hair, coming to gently brush against your face, a thumb running over your cheek.

“i know i make you afraid, but thats okay. you wont be afraid forever.” his face came down to lean close to yours, his voice a low tone. “you’ll get used to it. you’ll get used to me.”

even a dog held in captivity for years would still yearn for a soft pet, a good treat the second the opportunity was given.

　 　. ⋆ ✴︎ ݁ ˖ ˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ . 　

it was the next day and you both had gone through the motions of what a normal day was so far. he woke you up early, because he got up early and he needed you to constantly be at his side. he of course had you in a little dog cage when it was bedtime. or anytime he had to go out, which wasn’t often.

a metal dog cage with plush little pink blankets and frills, that attempted to make it more welcoming, adorning it. he always kept two locks on the metal links off the door - so you would never be able to get it undone yourself. but even if you did, he kept it all located in his basement. the only thing down there being your cage and a couple storage bins.

simon knew what he was doing. of course he did. he had been plotting this for months. since the second he saw you and that air was sucked out of his chest he’s been preparing.

in all honesty, you looked forward to bedtime. you were finally left alone to have some thoughts to yourself. and it’s not like it was pitch black down there. he didn’t leave the light on, but the outside lights from the backyard somewhat illuminated the basement.

you were asleep up on the plush mat, a warm fleece blanket wrapping around your cold frame. legs curled up since you couldn’t stretch your legs in the cage.

“good morning puppy,” he calls down the basement stairs. turning on the light and finally getting you out of the dark.

your eyes blinking awake in the harsh light. hearing his footsteps come down the stairs and a few keys rattling. he chuckled when he saw your head bump up against the top of the cage.

“did you sleep well, my dear?” he asked, those dark eyes looking over your form before he crouched down to unlock the padlocks on the cage.

you were tired, mornings were never your thing, especially not with how early he got up. your messy hair nodding along with your head as you gave him a simple answer. cold hands rubbing your tired eyes.

“we’ve got a big day today . . .” simon started while opening the metal door. your ears perked up at his words, sleepy eyes blinking awake and a soft grumble from your lips as he pulled on the leash, getting you out of the cage and into his lap.

“you’re gonna meet some of daddy’s friends today . . . and i trust you’ll be a very good puppy, right?”

ᡣ𐭩 tag list: @vanillarosekiss @pearljwm @redroserabbit

teehee thank u guys ily

[icarusredwings]

I know we joke a bunch about mental health in the marvel and poolverine community esspecially with Wade but Im gonna share something super personal. Maybe someone will relate and feel less alone.

Tw: mental health episode.

Im native.

As a child I had very long thick lush hair.

Then it was shaved... by someone who didnt want to "deal with it"

It was also burnt off, fried off, chemically relaxed to the point of falling off, cut extremely short, and ripped out often.

I, now, as an adult struggle very very much with my hair. It never can grow very long and it makes me very upset. Like.. melt down upset.

I tried extentions this week hoping it would make me feel better but I couldn't even make it a full 24 hours with them in. They were nice dont get me wrong but they were very uncomfortable, they were too tight, they hurt my scalp when I tried to do any of my normal styles. It might just be me, because my head is very sensitive due to past injury but also mentally it was telling me it hurt even when it shouldn't.

Not physical voices telling me it hurt, rather then my pain receptors weren't working properly. I know this because my brain was claiming I was hurt even before they were fully glued in. I figured it was just the truama of other stylists burning my hair off at my scalp that was making my head scared and go into a panic mode. Maybe that was true. I don't know.

Well, tonight I wanted. No. I NEEDED them out. They hurt too badly and were pulling etc. Something about my mental health wasn't letting me enjoy what ive always wanted.

It was the longest ive had it as an adult recently, past my shoulders, but then I impuslively trimmed it because.. well I dont even know. I dont fucking know. But I just lopped a good 3 inches off to where it sat on my shoulders instead.

Well I just cut them out.

Riped them out.

All of the above.

I was told to wait and I couldn't. I just couldnt wait for the help. So I cut them out. I feel like, in retrospect this was obviously NOT the best thing to do. For OBVIOUS reasons. So now my hair is INCHES long instead of almost the entire foot of Length that I had. Its patchy, its short, Im literally crying right now trying to figure out how im going to fix this.

It dosn't feel right. It dosn't feel or look like how im supposed to look. I look like that kid who just walked out of the salon who is sobbing with a shitty lolipop in his hand and a bowlcut because thats the only thing my caregivers could handle.

As a man I wish we could stop this narriative of not caring what we look like and "oh its okay, boy hair is short"

I just want long pretty hair... without my brain panicing and causing more issues... is that too much to ask for?

My heart is broken. I really hate when im like this. When my brain is so mean to me that it sabotages my goals despite the YEARS of work ive put in oiling it, styling it, the routines, etc etc.

Im devastated.

I am literally crying on my bathroom floor because even without the extentions in my head STILL hurts. Like im getting PHYSICAL pain from how bad I feel about this. I just.. I can't. I can't.

I don't know what to do..

[sadstrever]

ok i’m sorry i contemplated not posting this because it’s almost meanspo so just don’t read it if ur triggered. it’s also just bad advice, don’t starve yourself and don’t be an (vodka) alcoholic.please recover love you i guess

first off i wanna preface this by saying FUCK YOUUUUU. if ur a little fat baby piggy no friends bitch i don’t want ur advice or opinions on my alcohol consumption while i fast😭😋!!! i’ve lost like 40lbs since i’ve started being an alcoholic and it’s had absolutely no impact on my weight, cuz just to irritate for the 100th time on this account: I NEVER EAT HOE! anwyays sorry maybe i’m just too drunk but that really pissed me the fuck off. like GOD OKAY RUIN THAT FOR ME TOO. like ok i never get any calories in except for alc but sure fuck it yk, because YOU said that alc has calories(you don’t think i know that bro?) i’m just gonna suddenly stop being an alcoholic. and now i just feel like shit because i consume calories from alc and someone thinks thats a “judgey” thing to say to me. now i feel fat so thank you. like if i could stop drinking that easily i WOULD and if i could start eating without gaining weight every time i do I WOULD. ur so dumb. ugh. i hate myself i’m sorry i’m so mean i love you people and i hope ur healthy and happy. i just need to put my anger out on someone lol. BUT also genuinely liek you guys do piss me off tho cuz you think it’s some crazy impressive thing to not eat for a week or eat like a grape a day…like guys… it gets worse and you will see and you’re gonna hate ur life. if ur ed is at that point PLEASE RECOVER AND RECONSIDER IT GWTS SO MUCH WORSE UGH. AND NO ONES GONNA LISTEN BECAUSE I DIDNT EITHER. i want to save you guys so bad. like i hate that people still get to romanticize it without all the pain and suffering every single waking moment of the day. also i’m officially underweight so someone send me a 0 calorie cake in the mail😝🙏

anyways this is somehow too related and will sound so fake but i swear on my whole life and my mamas and my brothers and my papas this is a TRUE STORY!!! i saw an old friend today and the first thing they said was “oh my god you lost so much weight” “like ur arms, face, whole body damn” BASICALLY LIKE THAT OBVIOUSLY I DONT REMEMBER WORD FOR WORD. but bro i have never felt so fucking seen in my life. like finally someone besides my family or best friend noticed my weight loss damn. AND SHE ASKED IF SHE SHOULD BE WORRIED FUCKKKKK. like no you shouldn’t cuz i’m never gonna get better but like fuck thank you bro. no one comments on people’s weight anymore and it pisses me offfff like i know it’s rude but i needed that comment to make me wanna keep starving!

am i a piece of shit? like genuinely did the eating disorder make me a horrible evil miserable person? i have this thought that even if somehow i recover physically(i pray to god i never get fat[by my standards] again ) that i’ll never recover mentally. i’ll always have this fucked up judgement of right and wrong that revolves around the stupid idea of being thinner. does it even matter? no. no it doesn’t. but it’s my whole world. my whole world is how skinny i am and it’s so tiring. the highlight of my day was being called worryingly skinny by an old friend who doesn’t care if i live or die. the second highlight of my day was the fact that i got 28k steps and burning 800 calories at the gym and bought another bottle. i’m tired of being a bad person. im tired of being annoying and stupid and dumb. such a fuckup. i’m sorry if i’m a bad person and you had to read this and feel like shit because you had to sit through reading my awful terrible judgment and thoughts.

LAST POINT:

tomorrow i have to eat my first meal in months(for real this time) and i am so scared and upset. it’s like a piece of myself dies everytime i eat. without starvation i am nothing. i am a shell of a person and when i eat i just become a shell that feels fat. i’m gonna take laxatives obviously and do some workouts but it’s never enough. i’m gonna make sure the meal that i’m forced to eat is as low calorie as possible because i’ll be drinking alcohol too and APPARENTLY i should just kill myself because it’s a crime to still be an alcoholic when you’re starving yourself.

also alcohol most likely won’t make you gain weight unless it’s beer or seltzers and it especially won’t if ur always drinking on an empty stomach. vodka on an empty(for months) stomach plus working out excessively won’t make yoh gain weight. shut up shut up shut up shut THE FUCK up you bitches piss me off.

FUCK YOU.

[camthecatchameleon]

i offer no further context for this

[evocatiio]

if chibnall was the one writing this season you lot would be talking VERY differently

[greasydumbfuck]

thinking about frank and sex (in a sad way)

[widevibratobitch]

omw to play emotional support for my mom disguised as ✨fun family bonding time✨ for the rest of the week <3333 there's something so deeply wrong with me uwu teehee

[vergilmayhoard]

sometimes i hate everyone and my life and sometimes i think it would be better if i just died at this point

[iksydk]

i think working in emergency management would be so fitting for me and my interests. i used to be obsessed as a kid w the cold war and civil defense programs. but i couldn’t articulate what i wanted to know. i wanted to know why they were the way they were, why they made the choices they did and what they’re doing now in the same way. covid fascinated me bc of that. i worked for ups at the time and i loved reading the internal information system stuff about it bc it seemed they already had some plan and i wanted to be the people that did that.

[poisonouspastels]

[pardonmystardust]

.

[thecomet-and-themeteor]

I don't know how much sense this makes but I need a Langelique Cinderella AU, I think it'd work pretty well

[fardf150]

fuck

[lemongogo]

[phagodyke]

every morning I'm like wow.. birdsong and sunshine.....hm.. u know what. maybe there is hope in the world. and everything will be ok :3 and every evening I'm like I Hope A Meteorite Crashes Through My Window While I Sleep Hitting Me On The Head And Killing Me Instantly. and I switch between these multiple times throughout the day and alsosometimes they happen the other way round and theres no sense or reason or order or pattern just the labyrinth forever. yeah I'm good why do u ask