#messy recovery

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Still

cw: alcoholism, bad coping mechanisms

previous // Wildefire Masterlist //

•°•°•

He held the plastic water bottle in a tight metal fist, not bothering to snap the seal and open it. Spyglass had handed it to him, right after she'd ushered him to the beat-up sofa in the rogues’ living room. Hospitality. It felt like a foreign concept to Alexei these days; a polite garnish that didn't matter to people like Chopper or Uriah, at least not when they were dealing with people like him. 

The bottle of vodka was still in his other hand. Spyglass hadn't tried to take it away, and he supposed he was grateful for that. At least he was free to make his own bad choices. Still, he wished he'd thought to sober up before collapsing on their doorstep. Allies or not, the last time he'd been here, he'd woken up without his cybernetics, shut in a room, and yeah they'd fucking saved him, but he hadn't asked them to, he hadn't…

Lex took a shaky breath, eyeing the vodka. 

(cry, fly, sigh, why)

No. Steady on.

This time, he was asking them to save him, wasn't he? Or at least asking for help to save himself. He wished the room would stop spinning, he wished his heart would fucking slow down. He was in the company of familiar strangers and maybe that was safer than the streets but was it really safe? (Strafe) He should've sobered up, he needed his head on straight, his wits as sharp as he could get them. If coming here was a mistake (break), if he'd jumped the gun, he had to be able to run, he had to be able to fight them off. 

Could he? 

(spry, dry, lie)

Could he?

“Hey.”

Lex flinched at the voice, the stinging smell of burning plastic filling his nose as his arms flashed hot, melting away the hospitality bottle. Plastic stuck to his hand in a goo, water puddling on the ground below it. Fuck.

“Whoops.” It was the kid who'd startled him. Firebrand. Spyglass had said something about telling the others he was here, didn't she? His memory was as blurred as his vision. Not good.

He dug a metal knuckle into his cheekbone, willing his head to clear. Firebrand stood on the other side of the room, her head canted to one side.

“You look rough.”

This kid. “I had a long night,” he replied, trying not to let his words slur. He wished he'd left the bottle outside, in an alley, something.

“I didn't think you'd come back.”

“Mhm.”

“Spyglass said you wanna kill Uriah.”

He clenched his jaw, nodding.

“So do I.” Her chin lifted, and his eyes caught on the silver beads twisted into her hair, clinking softly with the motion. They'd been gold before. 

“I think we could do it,” the girl said. “You and me. We're strong enough.”

“You don't look like a killer.”

“Could probably kill you if I wanted.”

He was struck by the sudden urge to laugh. Her audacity never ceased to amaze him. With the state he was in, she was probably right, but somehow, the notion didn't fill him with panic. Felt a little more like old times, like banter with other Neath contractors. But unlike them, the kid was face to face with every ugly scar he had and not giving a damn. It was... refreshing.

“How would you do it?” he asked. The weight of the bottle was becoming more noticeable in his hand, but he tried to ignore it. Not in front of the kid.

“Burn down his office while he's stuck inside,” Firebrand said without missing a beat. “All of Titanium, gone.”

“What about the fallout?”

“I'm a fast runner.”

Lex let out a huff that bordered on a chuckle. Maybe she could. Maybe what they really needed was the audacity to act against Corp, to stop being afraid of what could go wrong, to stop thinking of the consequences, of the aftermath, of being hunted down and outnumbered and taken—

“Cinder?”

Alexei clenched his jaw, wrapping both hands around the neck of the vodka bottle, trying to steady himself, steady his breaths. Usually the booze distanced his fears, at least a little. Usually it let him sleep. Tonight… this morning… all it was doing was scrambling around his thoughts, dredging up things he didn't want to remember in front of anyone.

He could see Firebrand taking a seat from the edge of his vision, didn't want to look closer, didn't want to see if she was confused or concerned or disgusted. He kept staring at his hands, dully aware of twisting in his core at the sound of movement to his left.

“Okay, finally got Rosie out of bed. Cinder— ah, shit, let me get you a new bottle.” Spyglass hurried down the stairs, a skinny boy and a pallid blonde girl following behind her. A fresh water bottle was extended towards him, and he took it without much thought, eyeing the newcomers as they took to seats around the room, their own eyes carefully lingering on Lex.

He tried to fight the way his muscles tensed at their arrival; he wouldn't be put on edge so easily, no better than an untrained dog. (slog) He could deal with people, and these people supposedly were on his side. And if anything happened, he could still run. (shun) The sofa seemed pretty flammable. (damnable) That would make an adequate distraction, and the only one with any combative powers was Firebrand, and her powers couldn't hurt him, and—

“Cinder?”

Had Spyglass just said something? He glanced at her, trying to blink her face into focus, trying to sharpen everything.

Her face was open, something… soft about it. Maybe it was the way everything was still a little blurry, maybe it was just too early for her to be on edge.

“I want you to trust us,” Spyglass said after a moment. “So… I think an introduction is in order. A proper one.” She fiddled with her glasses, eyes dropping for a moment before she continued. “So yeah. I'll go first. I'm Sarah.”

He knew. He'd read all their files, after Fox sent him to kill them. He nodded anyway.

“Akeela,” said the kid. “I do fires.”

“Hugo.” Scrawny boy. “Tech stuff. I fixed your arms.”

“Rosie,” said the blonde, not offering anything else. He already knew. Possum. Couldn't die.

Lex swallowed, wishing for the familiar trail of fire down his throat. Four sets of eyes on him were too many. Even before Titanium and Fox and the Tower, it had been ingrained in him to never be the center of attention. Blend in, stick to the shadows. To be noticed is to be in danger of compromising a mission.

“Just Cinder works,” he said. “You all… you know what I do.”

Spyglass—Sarah—didn’t push it, though her smile seemed to tighten at the edges.

“Great. Yeah. Well, Cinder is gonna take the second-story bedroom. I know it'll take some getting used to, but—”

“Isn't that the room that's full of junk?” Rosie piped up, chin in her hand.

“We'll clean it up.” She sighed, turning her gaze to Lex. “Sorry, we just… I wasn't sure you'd come back.”

“It's fine.” He shook his head. A fucking bathtub would be a suitable room if it meant Fox wouldn't find him.

“Yeah, well. That's the team. Do you want me to show you where the room’s at?” She stood as she spoke, keeping a few feet back as she gestured for the staircase.

Yes. Being in here was better than being outside—the feeling of a wall at his back, drawn curtains, locked door between him and any suspicious eyes—but there were still too many strangers surrounding him. Kids or not, he couldn't keep his skin from crawling. He followed her up the stairs, grateful his legs didn't betray him when he stood.

Just like the blonde kid said, the room was full of shit, like whoever'd abandoned the place had used it as a storage room. Sheet-draped furniture cluttered the space, a musty smell sticking to the scattered objects. One small window, covered by a thick curtain. One internal entry point. The door looked flimsy, but he tried to push past that observation. There were allies on the other side, not spies. Maybe he couldn't trust the rogues, not really, but they stood to lose as much as he did if Uriah found them.

“I'm glad you came back,” Spyglass (Sarah) said behind him, and Lex flinched at her voice. 

“Shit, sorry.”

“It's fine.” He should've heard her. The fucking booze was dulling his senses. “I had to come back.” Metal fingers clutched at a covered sofa, dropping as the smell of singed fabric hit him. “I meant it,” he said. “Uriah needs to die.”

Spyglass sighed, leaning on the doorframe. “I know.”

“I'll do what you need me to,” he said. “Kill who you need me to kill, fight, anything. But Uriah needs to die.”

She hesitated. He didn't like that. She had to want the same thing, they all did. If Uriah was gone, maybe they could stop fucking hiding, couldn't she see that?

“It's not that easy,” she said at last.

“Why?”

“Killing Fox won’t get the target off your back. It's not just him. It's all of Corp. Taking out one of their CEOs would just throw gasoline on the fire.”

He knew. Corp was rotten, but it wasn't personal for them the way it was for Uriah. “They wouldn't catch me,” he said.

“What about us? You don't think they can track it back, now that you're here?”

“Then I'll leave,” Lex said through clenched teeth. “I don't need your help to take him out.”

“Then why did you come back at all?”

(spall, brawl, crawl)

He couldn't find an answer to that. He could take Uriah out by himself. He didn't need them, he was endangering them just by being here, so why the fuck would he come back at all? Why had he come here instead of storming Titanium, instead of dragging Uriah out of his bed and finishing the job?

Because he didn't have anywhere else to go. Didn't have anyone else he could take a chance on. Because his weeks of so-called freedom had been a blur of booze and violence, a desperate attempt to move so fast his own fear wouldn't catch up to him, an attempt that always failed. 

Because he was still scared.

“I can't sleep,” Lex answered.

Sarah's brows lowered, eyes searching his face. “Okay,” she said, her voice soft. Nothing accusing, no pity, just something that almost understood. “Okay,” she said again. “Look, I swear we're working on the problem. We'll figure it out, something, one way or another.”

Working on it how? he wanted to say. Was there anything other than death that would be safe enough? Final enough? But all he said back was, “Okay."

Sarah gave him a tired smile, backtracking for the door.

“Wait and see,” she said. “And while you do, I hope you can sleep.”

•°•°•

tag list:

@whumpacabra  @enteredin2eternity  @kixngiggles  @whumpsday  @kiichu 

@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump  @shywhumpauthor  @distinctlywhumpthing , @bloodinkandashes , @fleur-alise ,

@whumpy-daydreams , @whumpwillow , @honeycollectswhump ,  @snakebites-and-ink

[watercolourcritters]

trot trot trot

[ID: marker art of a kiwi bird running with text reading "I will keep putting one foot in front of the other even when it sucks." Sucks is underlined for emphasis. The background is plain white, and the artists signature is @ watercolour critters. End ID.]

Instagram | Etsy

[thepeacefulgarden]

[catastrxblues]

EVERMORE by taylor swift (feat. bon iver) — “and i was catching my breath, floors of a cabin creaking under my step. and i couldn’t be sure, i had a feeling so peculiar, this pain wouldn’t be forevermore.”

my #swiftiegiftexchange2024 for @lovesickallovermybed!!!! 🫶🏽🫶🏽

[sofiaruelle]

Guess what finally came in the mail!!!!! My copy of Seasons of the Valley fanzine and these gorgeous lil goodies!!!!!!

Thank you so so much, @seasonsofthevalley for having me as a guest artist!!!

Also big shout out to my fellow contributors and the amazing mod team!!!!

[chronicsymptomsyndrome]

How do I recover from severe burnout with an overwhelmingly messy recovery space

How do I clean my overwhelmingly messy recovery space properly if I am severely burnt out

How do I recover from severe burnout if I’m constantly using all of my energy doing the bare minimum

How do I recover from severe burnout

How do I recover

[dyke-husband]

Hey you!!! Are you queer? Are you a trauma survivor? Do you experience desires and longings?

Fill out my google form! Or at least share with your friends! Everything is anonymous and just between you and I. I’m looking for honest, shame-free responses about the intersections of queer desire and trauma.

[mymarifae]

does anyone want to join me on the aventurine/argenti train. it's got all the perks of being as funny as any other argenti ship - especially given the random absurdity of their first meeting. what the hell was argenti doing in the depths of the nihility? who even knows anymore man. but like also i think it has the potential to be really sweet?

aventurine hasn't let anyone In since his sister died. he's long since forgotten how to Trust, and Love, and how to BE Loved. and this, combined with enormous amounts of survivor's guilt and trauma and being treated as an object, has really done a number on his self-esteem. he doesn't act like it (because he's learned that it's dangerous to be vulnerable; it's the one gamble he's not willing to take), but 2.1 gave us that glimpse into his inner dialogue and it is Bad in there

between his conversation with acheron, the note veritas left for him, and finding a sense of closure in the apparition of his younger self, he's on track to becoming better. we can see it in the way he pretty much immediately reaches out to the trailblazer to get some things off his chest once he gets his phone working again. and the way he's accepting what is basically a form of therapy from the doctors of chaos. but his self-hatred has been building up for years, and it's going to take a long time to unpack and unlearn all of that

so like, in comes argenti, right? he's a loud show-off, but he is SO earnest. he sees the beauty in everything and everyone. he's kind, and gentle, and so full of love. he also comes off as a bit... lonely to me? he's spent so much of his life chasing after idrila's shadow, and only catching a glimpse of them in his many near-death experiences (and isn't that something to think about...........). he's not like, secretly miserable or faking or anything - i think his exuberance is 1000% genuine. but humans are social creatures; everyone wants and requires at least some form of closeness and intimacy. to have a love to pursue in This realm... someone he can see and hold without needing to have one foot in an early grave . i think that would be good for him. that's all

anyway, it's clear that argenti was pretty enchanted by aventurine

like yeah that's kind of just how he talks normally but !?@,%&#& that's a lot of awfully romantic things to say about one specific person out of the several you apparently rescued (??????? god i love this guy he makes no sense. literally why are you even here bud). it seems that aventurine's more subdued state left an impression on him too, and well wouldn't it be pretty in character for him to start popping in randomly... as he does, because he can apparently just go wherever the fuck he wants. to check on this sad yet oh so beautiful peacock.. to try to bring a true smile to his face... to show him how kind and beautiful the universe can be......

i think aventurine might have a hard time laughing off offers of comfort and company and the beginnings of a courtship if it comes from someone like argenti. this man couldn't be disingenuous if he tried. he doesn't wear his heart on his sleeve as much as he rips it out of his chest to show you. it'll be a learning curve regardless - aventurine is too used to needing to constantly prove his worth to keep anyone around and to keep them from hurting him

but do you see it. do you see the vision. do you see how Sweet this could be. aventurine is about to receive more roses than he'll know what to do with

[uncanny-tranny]

Healing can look and feel a lot like pain, so it's hard to imagine this being a good sign. However, I think feeling like it's getting worse can be a sign that you're healing and you're making progress.

I've been noticing in myself that I feel a whole lot worse ever since I actually... acknowledged I have a lot of healing to do and that I am unwell. I actually allowed myself to entertain the idea, and it's opened the floodgates to me finding out just how bad it got. I'm grateful in a way that I'm getting worse now because I have the ability to heal.

If it feels like it's gotten worse, maybe it could be because you're making your way out of the storm. It's going to be okay.

[hiddenbeks]

tagged by @southernreaches thank you fray!!! 🫶

rules: put your music library on shuffle, then list the first five songs that come up in a poll to let people vote for their favorite!

tagging (if you wanna do this, no pressure!!)

@yahgrondu @yharnams @pawnguild @volkihar @nokstella

@gurathins @alexheart @pinkfey @gortash @merdruid

@qingyii @ehlnofaey @tarasahl @katsigian @vilnan

[musashi]

thinking about all the times in the last few years i have tried to vent to friends and more or less gotten told "you're fucking crazy and need to be institutionalized" but in wokespeak and how every time it was usually something i viewed as very mundane and solvable with social support like "i feel kinda bad about my art" or "im lonely" or "i'm having a bad day at work"

and being like wow you people would have straightup abused me when i was a young adult if this is what you think "needs professional intervention" looks like. i lowkey fear i will be alone forever lsfdkhgsfgds

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Miles to Go Before I Sleep

cw: alcoholism, bad coping mechanisms, referenced violence, emeto

previous /// Wildefire Masterlist /// next

°•°•°

Alexei trudged back to Chopper’s with the sunrise to his back, dried blood crusting the seams in his arms. Some was his, some was the mark’s, a loan shark he'd made quick work of, though it had taken most of the night to catch him alone.

He was exhausted, hopefully exhausted enough to fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, hopefully exhausted enough to dream of nothing. He doubted he'd be that lucky. 

This was all he'd ever hoped for in the last two years. Of being free, of life going back to business as usual. So why couldn't he sleep?

Making it away from the Tower, from Uriah, had been some big, stupid, out-of-reach fantasy. And in that fantasy, as soon as Lex was free, it was all better. Things were back to normal. The last two years were a bad dream. Easy to bottle away and forget about.

But in the real world, it wasn't so simple.

The contracts should've been easy. They were familiar, ironically safe, but sometimes he'd forget if he was taking down a mark for Chopper or for Uriah. Those moments made him stumble, force himself to press a hand to his throat, remind himself that the collar was gone, that the only one who controlled him anymore was him.

Not that he did a good job of it.

He'd all-but handed the steering wheel to Chopper, taking any job the older man so much as mentioned, if only for a way to distract himself, to try to find a rhythm, but the rhythm he found was nothing steady.

Track, kill, collect. Drink himself to sleep if he got sleep at all. Repeat in a day or two. Look over his shoulder every time he was out of the building, feel his heart start to race at every stranger who stared too long.

Once he'd sobered up enough to track his surroundings, he found he couldn't even attempt sleep unless the lights were on, or else he'd wake up back in the cell. The door couldn't be closed, because then he was trapped, but it couldn't be open either, or someone could sneak up on him. He couldn't be around people, because any of them could be a spy for Uriah, but he couldn't be alone or the damned silence would choke him.

And as it turned out, pretending he could be okay, pretending he'd never been taken in the first place, didn't help anything.

The other Neath freelancers knew it all. People he could've called friends once, who he should've been able to fall into step with, now looked the other way or fell silent when he passed by. They could see the Tower in his scars, in his flinches. They knew how Uriah had owned him.

He'd done the impossible and escaped both, but it still hadn't saved him.

He still wasn't safe, and he never would be.

Not until Uriah Fox was dead.

The thought gave him some solace as he sat awake that night, back flat against the wall, sipping on a bottle of something he hoped was strong enough to knock him out.

Fox had to die so he could sleep, so he could go outside without being seen and caught and trapped. It was the first long-term goal he'd had since being taken, the first goal that wasn't just avoid angering the guards, avoid pissing off Uriah, survive one more day.

Lex staggered to his feet. How late was it? Was Chopper still awake? He had to do this now, he had to get this done now, he didn't care if he was tired, he didn't care if it killed him. He stumbled down the hall, just sober enough to stay on his feet, and that was all he needed. The light was on in Chopper's office. Good.

The older man was leaning back in his chair, sifting through a handful of papers. His eyes darted up when Lex passed the doorway, expression turning from neutrality to mild concern.

“Cinder…”

“I need a contract,” Lex said.

“You just got back from a contract. Sleep.” Chopper laid the papers in front of him. “And take a shower, for fuck’s sake. I can smell the blood on you.”

“I can't sleep,” Lex muttered, rubbing at a splotch of dried blood on his arm until it began to flake away, tiny pieces floating to rest in the ground like a macabre snow. “Are there any hits out for… for higher ups in the city?”

Chopper frowned at the question. “Higher ups?”

“CEOs.” He'd play this as casual as he could, in spite of the tightness in his chest, in spite of how the knowledge that Uriah was still out there was locked around his throat.

Chopper sank back in his chair with a heavy sigh, pulling open a filing cabinet. “Slim pickings. Not many people have the guts or the funds to go after them.” He pulled out a folder. “Why the sudden taste for golden blood? You can't possibly be low on cash already, unless you…”

He trailed off, eyes landing on the bottle still clutched in Lex’s hand, and he knew what he wanted to say. Unless you already drank it all away.

“Does it matter?”

Chopper opened the folder. “I guess it doesn't.” He scanned the pages within in silence for a moment. “Looks like we've got some attorneys… project manager, company director… any of those shiny enough for you?”

Lex grit his teeth. “Are any of them Uriah Fox?”

The folder snapped shut. “Uriah Fox,” Chopper repeated. “You want to kill Uriah Fox?”

His fist tightened around the bottle. “What do you think?”

“I think you should know the code by now. We don't make it personal.”

“I can't fucking sleep, Chopper. I can't…” He let his head drop. “I can't keep doing this. I need… I need him to be gone, I can't—” He pressed a palm into his cheek, cold metal on hot skin. “I don't need a contract to do it. I'll do it on my own. With or without your help.”

Chopper let out a sigh, laying the folder on the desk. “I'm afraid I can't let you do that.”

Lex's stomach churned, uneasy at the way he said it. What did he mean? Weren't they allies? Hadn't it always been us against them?

“You understand.” Chopper spread his hands, something apologetic on his face. “Fox is one of my top investors. It's a conflict of interest.”

Investor. Lex took a stumbling step backwards. Investor, pester, sequester, how had he not seen it? How has he not realized he'd been hiding in the fucking lion's den this entire time? How could Chopper do this, side with Uriah, didn't he realize what he'd done to him? That he'd come for him, take him back, let him rot in the Tower, even further underground than a grave would put him?

Chopper pushed himself up. “I don't want you panicking over this. I'm perfectly capable of maintaining both relationships.”

“You… Y—” Lex hunched over, emptying his stomach on the linoleum tile.

“Fuck, Cinder,” Chopper muttered, moving around the desk. Lex staggered backwards, wiping acrid bile from his chin with the back of his hand, eyes wide and locked on the older man.

Maintaining both relationships. He knew what that meant, he knew Chopper would have no issue handing him over to Uriah if only he was asked to. How had he thought this was a safe haven? (raven) How could he have passed out drunk here, let his guard down so severely? (clearly) He'd been lucky. He'd been so damn lucky Chopper hadn't seen fit to give him up in the last few weeks, and fuck, it would've been easy. Lex had made it easy, by being stupid and trusting and complacent (adjacent).

“Sit down. We can talk about this.”

We can calm you down and keep you in place long enough for Uriah to come barging through the door.

“You're not thinking rationally. I know you haven't been yourself lately.”

You haven't been the same since your return from hell. 

“It was a bad idea to set you back to work so soon.”

You came back ruined.

Lex's back hit the wall, and he flinched away from it as if it were another enemy. He couldn't stay here, it wasn't safe, nowhere was safe.

“Cinder…”

He whirled around, head spinning, heart pounding in his throat, not safe.

“Alexei.”

He barreled through the door, feet hardly moving fast enough to keep him upright as he made a mad dash through the front door and stumbled out into the cool night air.

Nowhere was safe (waif, chafe, strafe). Chopper had dozens of freelancers on his payroll, hundreds of allies (spies, cries), thousands of eyes that could watch for him, nowhere was safe, he couldn't sleep (cheap, creep).

He didn't stop running until he was several blocks away, practically collapsing against the wall of a locksmith shop. What now? He couldn't stay awake forever, couldn't stay vigilant, and it was only a matter of time before he passed out and someone took the opportunity to snatch him or report him and fuck, fuck, he hadn't escaped, he'd never really escape, nowhere was safe—

…was it?

He forced himself to inhale, shuddering breaths fighting against the way the world was spinning. There were like-minded people out there, people who hated Uriah as much as he did, people who wouldn't hand him over to Titanium, if only out of spite.

Enemy of my enemy.

He sucked in air, his heartbeat slowing down, if only a little.

"You don't have to go out and face the world alone.”

He still didn't believe that, didn't trust any of the rogues, but he could trust in their shared goal.  He'd saved them once, weathered Uriah's anger to protect them from his own fire, and maybe they were still grateful enough that they'd be willing to watch his back and let him rest.

He pushed up from the wall, squinting into the darkness. The rogue's safehouse was miles away. He couldn't even be certain that they'd still be there, but it was the only plan that made sense.

Lex took a swig from the half-empty bottle, still clutched in his fist, hoping the liquor would beat back the fear that still clawed at his chest.

He had a long walk ahead of him.

•°•°•

@whumpacabra @enteredin2eternity @kixngiggles @whumpsday @kiichu @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @shywhumpauthor @distinctlywhumpthing , @bloodinkandashes , @fleur-alise , @whumpy-daydreams , @whumpwillow , @honeycollectswhump ,

[watercolourcritters]

it's worth it, i promise it's worth it!

[ID copied from alt text: Marker art of a Pallas cat looking at the viewer over a simple white background. Text reads "There's no guarantee it'll get better, but isn't it worth it to try?" The artist's signature reads @ watercolourcritters. End ID.]

Instagram | Etsy | Tip Jar

[thepeacefulgarden]

[nwarrior777]

my personal top 10 fav "I Beat Anorexia And Happy With My Body" things:

thinking "ohhohoooo who is that sexy bitch of a man here with yaaammmmmmmmmmmy hips mhhmhmhmhm" while looking in a mirror before going to shower

"that would be so rad renaissance painting" in same situation

getting over "yeah i love myself as i am but if i gain more i will feel sad again" thought to "i love my body in every way, body where you going i am going too, leeets gooooo biiitch wroom wroom" as the last milestone to completely loving yourself and opening-

-the biggest energy source world ever known - loooove! to yourself to others yaaaaassss

understanding that the difference in the smallest clothes size and the biggest is like 10 cm is fucked up shit and problem is not in me here

checking weight because i worry that i loose weight [and thinking that maybe i got sick or smth] not otherwise (it's fine, i didn't! :) i am about like. 80+ kg, feeling fine! heheeee!!!!)

eating! fucking! taaaaaaaaaaasty food!

loving all my photoes, concept of "i am ugly on that photo" doesn't exist anymore because there is no "ugly" in my system of coordinates

talking with my girl friends with dialogs like "biiiitch you are beautiful fashion goddeeees" and constantly giving each over compliments, and we are all really mean it, and a lot of my girl friends are 80+ kg and they fucking beautiful and they know they are beautiful and we love how we look and know that we are absolutely slaying [i am not a girl, but i am afab and have a lot of fems in friends youunderstood the pointt]

the feeling of endless energy of love and confidence in general, for yourself and people who you love, after you understand that beauty standarts sucks

igewoh i love my body so much yaaaaaaaaaaahahahaaaaa

feel free to reblog and add your fav things in loving yourself, it doesn't have to be 10, write more or less, just spread the looove if you waaant but don't forget to # twwwww yahaahhehehrir i am going to sleeep bye byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee love ya alllllllll

[crryellow]

even tho i not really getting that much better (oofz (/ _ ; ) i enjoy eating, it makes me happy and i deserve to have a little happiness i think :3