#waaa im still getting used to it aaa

[makeouts-abandoned]

dark blue, grey, orange, white, black, green, & pink

dark blue: mutual i am very confused where i stand with sos what do want from me?

i want to talk to you more babe omg!

grey: mutual that is so smart and cool and i love to hear you thoughts please  continue sharing your musings w/ me

waaa this is so cute please....i will always share my musings with you love

white: mutual you’d commit a crime with

lets go on a shoplifting date

black: mutual i’d let bite me no questions asked

noted...maybe i will im quite feral smtimes

pink:i am asking if you want to make out and build a life together

we are in the same state....come do it babe :*

orange: what if we dated 👉👈 mutual

ill dm my answer to this one but in short im not against it

green: mutual you would probably fight if you met irl

friends to enimes to lovers 124k slowburn...okbut omgwhy fight me..is it bc i like anime

[thefearofimperfection-blog]

2

Still October 16th except I had to gather my emotions (in the current day) to continue and actually make sense so

Still October 16th: 

“You’re not doing surgery tomorrow.” I’m being a bitch at this point. I tell them to leave the room because I need a minute with my boyfriend. Because he’s mine. And I can have that if I damn well please. I can talk to him because I CAN control some little things in this fucked up world and at this particular (possibly irrational) moment I am choosing that I need a word with him. Alone. 

I’d like to think that I was a very strong individual at this moment but really I was a blubbering mess that’s nose was disgustingly dry from tissues. He’s making it worse because he’s kissing it. I’m trying to tell him that I want to mother his children in a nice way but it’s kinda not nice or romantic when you just have to get out between sobs that you “Waaa-waaaant B-b-b-aaa-baaaabies” *wipes snot*

But I somehow manage to do it and to my relief (even though we both are truely terrified of children and don’t understand why they don’t come out being able to talk) we both decide that despite the disgusting amount of money that we will have to spend: he will do sperm banking. And despite the doctors suggestion of immediate surgery, he will wait a week. Is that selfish? Am I a terrible human being? If that week makes a drastic difference and I end up without a fucking husband and all that’s left is his sperm in a lab with snooty receptionists-I swear to god-

Anyways. The doctor tells me that a week most likely wont make a difference. WOOP WOOP IM HAVING A CHILD. Not yet but maybe eventually idk who knows. So I call and set up as many appointments for sperm banking as I can, but there are only 3 available. Only three little viles of spermies. Only three little chances at baby booming it. But hey, technology is a mother fucking gift and if I have to get artificially inseminated you better believe I’m gonna win that shit and have a gorgeous goddamn baby. 

(My positivity was coming from a “I can do anything I set my mind to” type of atmosphere until I realized that the only thing that Doesn’t apply to is getting pregnant. You can  not just get pregnant with mind over matter. You need a legitimate man.) 

Comedic relief provided by: my incapability to cope with real life. 

October 17th: 

Im sending you nudes because, really, IDK what else I’m supposed to do about my boyfriend being in a sperm bank. Like, say good luck? No...

October 20th:

Today’s scan day and I’ve literally never actually shit so much in my life. Sorry, but it’s true. I’m so nervous I actually think that my hair is falling out and you’re all just sitting there like “can we get in n out later” “since I have cancer do I have to go to work” “do you think people with cancer can get out of speeding tickets” “do you think people will watch my stream if i tell them i have cancer?” I know you’re just trying to make me laugh and it’s working but I’ve also cried the same amount as a new born baby this morning and I think I’m dehydrated to the point of not knowing where we are. Despite both of us clearly feeling like shit we can’t help making laughing in the lobby and disrupting all the old people who have to have their kids bring them in for scans every month. That’s just how we are and thats why I love the shit out of you. I don’t remember a time when we didn’t laugh our asses off at something. But at this particualr moment I also hate it because this scan that you’re about to have could either ruin our entire lives, or lock it in. It could either be me, alone, missing you every second of forever. Or, together forever. And I’m terrified.