#i feel so fucking alone all the goddamn time

[sailor-aviator]

Hey.

Go ahead and get settled because this will be...long, in true Liz fashion.

So, by now I'm sure most of you have heard what's happened. If not, you can search this blog for some answers or others for more.

I joined this fandom offiicially at the end of September after being a long time lurker. I had just lost my job and times were uncertain for me. I felt inspired to write, and as someone whose formative years were shaped by the fandom experience, I wanted to feel that sense of belonging again - to feel like a part of a community. I've talked about it on here before, but I started my fandom days in the original Hunger Games fandom when the first movie had just come out, and then I shifted gears towards the SuperWhoLock fandom. If you know anything about SuperWhoLock, then you know you had to have pretty tough fucking skin to be a part of any of it.

Of course, this was back in the day when fandom was an actual community and not authors having to beg for scraps of engagement and people thinking its a numbers game. I was a fairly large blog within the SuperWhoLock community (Waywardly-Carrying-On was the username), but I left fandom for a few years because life got hectic and I felt like I had outgrown the fandom itself as I was no longer watching any of the shows. As the years went on, I started to yearn for the fandom experience again, which is how I found myself dipping toes into several different ones.

I was so excited to publish my first fanfic. I had convinced myself that I wasn't a good writer (much to the chagrin of my irl friends), and I had put a pause on writing my original story. I wanted to write this idea about a cowboy and a girl using characters that I had grown to love like I did way back in my older days. So, I started posting, and I was so excited for the story, that I kept posting almost daily. MamaMay was one of the first people to embrace not only my story, but me as a person into the fandom. She made me feel welcomed and wanted.

Pretty much right off the bat I was already getting anons telling me that I was being too much and that I needed to calm down with all the posting. I was confused because...this is Tumblr. It's literally a blogging website? Why wouldn't I post? I decided to ignore the mean words (not before giving my opinion, of course) and kept on doing my thing. Well, the anons got continually worse and worse. I had a suspiscion as to who the anons could be, but I never had concrete proof. So, I experimented with blocking suspects until finally it worked. I'm not naming names because that's not my style, so don't even bother asking.

The fact of the matter is, some of you have entered fandom spaces for the first time, and you don't know how to act. You don't care to learn fandom etiquette as you've made abundantly clear by calling fandom olds every name under the sun while utilizing the anonymous feature. Newsflash, you're part of the problem. You're the reason why authors don't want to publish anymore. You are the reason that something that's supposed to be fun is starting to feel like a goddamn chore.

How many times can authors on here say that we aren't machines? We have lives outside of this website: family, friends, jobs, school, etc. Some of you really are just hellbent on making everyone around you miserable, and it's sad. You can't just leave well enough alone and let people enjoy something, no you feel like everyone has to enjoy it the same way as you.

Some of you go after authors on here because of some weird sense of jealousy too. I don't know why my shit blew up, babe, I really don't. But I started out with no followers and no support just like everyone else. I'll tell you what helped me though: following fandom etiquette and reaching out to other creators to build an actual community. None of this "I've reblogged three of your things and now I'm messaging you so that you return the favor." No, I reached out to make actual friendships which is what fandom is SUPPOSED to be. If someone was clearly not interested, it was fine!! I backed off and kept doing my own thing.

Some of you think being mean on the internet makes you big and bad. Guess what! It doesn't! It's loser mentality and I feel genuinely sorry for you. I'm sorry that people in your own life made you feel so small as to feel like you had to lash out at strangers on the internet who are just trying to have fun.

Anyway, this is my really long way of saying that I am taking a break for a little bit. I have no idea how long it will be - could be the weekend, could be a couple of weeks, could be forever. I need time to decide if this is something I want to keep persuing. If I come back, I don't know if I will remain a TGM blog or if I'll shift gears and hop into another fandom with a rebrand. Guess we'll just have to see.

To the people on here who have been a constant source of joy, laughter, and support: thank you. From the bottom of my heart. Your presence has meant everything to me, and I hope that my break sees me wanting to come back and giggle about the silly plane movie with you all again.

Nothing but love,

Liz 💛

#psa #public service announcement #this has been a psa #liz speaks #liz rambles #long post

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight

TW: NSFW, dubcon if you squint

You are laying in bed, not sleeping, feeling sorry for yourself when your phone rings on your bedside table. You don’t recognize the number, so you answer with a cautious, “Hello?” 

“Hi, pretty girl.”

You pause a long beat, and not because you don’t recognize the voice on the other end. “How the ever-loving fuck did you get this number?”

It’s Officer Tom Ludlow, of course. Just what you need, on this night from Hell.

“I’m a detective, remember?” You can just hear the self-satisfied smirk, and he’s lucky he’s not standing in front of you, because tonight you just might have slapped him.

You use your moderately adequate brain for some deductive reasoning of your own, and realize, “You took my number from Julian’s phone. After you assaulted him.”

On the other end he lets out a long whistle. “Baby, that’s such a strong word.”

“Do not call me baby.”

“Alright. Sweetheart.”

“God, you are such a fucking caveman.”

“Thank you.”

You sigh, too fucking tired for this shit. Your heart feels like a chewed up piece of gum, and your lady parts are pulsing angrily at you for ruining their evening earlier.

They like the sound of Tom’s deep voice in your ear, and that is so not good.

“You okay?”

The question actually takes you aback, because the smarmy shit-eating tone is gone, and he sounds…serious?

“I guess. Why?”

“That doesn’t sound okay.”

“Why do you think it’s any of your goddamned business?”

“I told you. If Dr. Bitch hurts you, it is my business.”

“He didn’t hurt me,” you grumble. In fact, he didn’t really do much of anything to you. Now that more time has passed, the more annoyed you are about that.

Fuck if Detective Ludlow doesn’t seem to hear that in your voice too. “Ohhhh. Sounds like the Good Doctor didn’t hit anything?” 

“Oh my god. I hate you. Do you know that?”

He gives a low chuckle that absolutely goes straight to your deprived pussy, and you squirm a little in bed, so grateful he can’t see you.

“You wish you hated me.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“Don’t hang up, pretty girl. Tell me what you’re wearing.” His voice dips low, and smooth as velvet.

Every hair on your body lifts in response to this, your nipples pebbling into painful points. Bastard.

“A parka.”

“Pshh. You sleep in a parka? Come on, baby.” How effective that soft, coaxing tone is at dissolving your inhibitions is alarming. You can almost see yourself, as though standing at the edge of a great abyss. If you jump…there will be no going back. 

“Fine. I’ll use my own imagination. I think you’re wearing…a cute little lacy negligee that just floats on your luscious curves…”

Well, you guess you’re getting a picture of what he likes.

“Jesus Christ. I’m wearing a tank top, you pervert,” you grouse, trying to shatter his fantasy. Nevermind the fact that you are now soaking wet, again.

“Nice. No panties?”

“I am wearing panties.”

“You aren’t going to need ‘em. Do you know what I’d do to you, after dinner, my beautiful nurse?”

“Gee, I bet you’re going to fucking tell me.”

“Oh come on. We’re having fun.”

“You are having fun.”

“But you’re still listening.”

Well, he has you there, the smug sonofabitch.

“Maybe.”

He chuckles at the other end of the line, a low sound that makes you clench with need.

“You’ve got to answer a question for me first.”

“What?”

“You’ve got to dip into that sweet little pussy for me, and tell me how wet you are on the scale from one to ten.” 

You should rip him a new one for this. Or just hang up. Why can’t you just hit the button and end this nonsense? But then…you’d be alone. Your real-time reaction is less dignified, but maybe more honest. 

You laugh.

It starts as a giggle, then crescendos into an all out guffaw. “Tom…you are a nut.”

You can hear the smile in his voice as he answers, and goddamn if you don’t actually start to feel better. “Oh come on baby, don’t hold out on me. I’ve got a solid ten inches in my hand for you here.”

This makes you laugh even harder. “Ten inches?!”

“Ok. Maybe nine and a half.” 

You giggle, and you can’t stop. “I don’t know if I can handle all that, Officer Ludlow.”

You don’t know how his voice lowers even more, as he says, “Oh, I know you can take it. Don’t worry, I’ll ease it in nice and slow.”

Suddenly the bubbles of laughter in your gut go flat, replaced with an aching heat that sears your insides, your clit throbbing in response to his dirty mouth. It’s possible a kittenish little sound squeaks from the back of your throat.

You really don’t know where you get the courage to ask softly, “Yeah? Then what?”

“Then I would kiss all over those pretty, soft titties. I want those perfect nips in my mouth.”

You know you make a sound then, and he surely hears it. “Will you check them for me? Lick your fingers and give them a pinch.”

“You are ridiculous.” It comes out small, and breathy, and it doesn’t really sound like an insult at all. So what, if you do as he tells you? And so fucking what, if imaging it’s his hands on you makes you feverish with desire, a spear of longing throbbing in your cunt.

He doesn’t answer you right away, which means he’s busy with something else. Maybe Tom is just as pent up as you are from all this edging the two of you have been putting each other through. 

“Are you.. are you really?” You ask, hating how your voice exposes the fact that you’re not only pinching your nipples, but borderline feeling yourself up at the sound of his hiking breath. 

“Yeah, honey, I am.”

“Oh,” you say, because it’s the only thing you can think of. Your cunt is screaming below about how she wants to talk to Tom Ludlow because you’re doing a shit job at it. 

“Ah, fuck. Are you doing what I told you?” 

“No.”

“Good. Lick your fingers again, circle those pretty nipples for me. Close your eyes and imagine it’s my tongue. Fuck, I wanna suck on your tits so bad.” 

He doesn’t have to know that you’re following orders. That you’re grinding on the bunched blanket between your legs while you imagine his big, rude hands playing with your tits instead of your own.

“You listening to me, beautiful girl?”

“Yeah. Don’t get a big head about it.” 

“Good job. And too late.” 

“I do hate you, you know. I’m serious.” It has no real venom; in fact, it sounds more like a term of endearment at this point. 

He laughs. “C’mon, tell me how soaked she is.”

She’s flooded, is the answer. She’s dampening the pressed comforter, she’s throbbing and screaming and crying and pulsing to the tempo of his black coffee voice. 

You’re not much for vocals when you get off. You have neighbors that already have to hear about your dreams, and the act itself seems like more business than pleasure sometimes. When you were younger, you shared a room with your two sisters, so you learned to be quiet and discreet about rubbing your pussy. That all flies out the window when you sink two fingers into your sopping cunt at Tom’s direction. 

“10,” you hiss, straining to hit your gspot. Maybe you really do need to invest in one of those toys Sheila is always elbowing you about.

“Oh, poor baby.” Your walls flutter violently at his mocking tone. 

“I thought you were going to tell me what you would do to me after dinner?” Maybe you’re desperate, or just stupid. It doesn’t really matter when all you want is to orgasm on Tom’s voice.

“Thought I was? Didn’t I tell you about how I’m gonna dip into that sweet wet pussy, and play with your little clit with my thumb while I fuck you with this big cock? How do you like it, honey? Slow and deep? Fast and hard?”

You make a strangled little sound–because your fingers are just not enough, and it hurts. It hurts that he’s not here with you, filling you up, holding you down with those calloused hands and that filthy, insatiable, mouth.

“What was that?” 

His voice is strained, and you think you’re not the only one in pain here.

“Slow,” you answer. “At first.” Why exactly are you handing him this ammunition? How stupid, how dangerous, to offer up the keys to your undoing? You know he will only use this information against you.

“Mmm.” His breathing is labored, and the thought of him with his cock out, stroking himself to this dirty talk is almost too much to stand. Julian had you trussed and at his mercy right in front of him, but couldn’t keep it up. All Tom Ludlow needs is the sound of your voice. After the night you’ve had, that alone is nearly enough to make you cum.

“But then I like it deep,” you pant. “You think you got what it takes?”

“Baby, I’ve got everything you need.”

You are trying to be as quiet as you can, while you abuse your clit with your two middle fingers, practically holding your breath, getting high on the oxygen deprivation. You’re too quiet, you suppose.

“Don’t be shy, beautiful. Gotta let me hear it when you cum for me.”

“Or what?” you grouse. “Maybe I’m just…mixing pancake batter.” 

His laughter is strained, and you just know he’s close. “Or you’ll regret it, sweet girl. When I finally get these hands on you? Mmm I’ll make you pay. I’ll make you cum without mercy.” 

Again, you can’t help but compare the versions of punishment to the men in your life. Julian wants to hurt you. Tom just wants to make you cum.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah? You there, baby?”

You try to just breathe through your nose, to not give him the satisfaction–but you fail spectacularly.

“Y/n?” He calls, singing your name and making it sound so pretty and good and special. 

“Y-yeah?”

“You coming with me? I’m waiting for you.”

You’re right there, dangling over that sweet, slippery precipice that you can usually ease yourself over carefully. Tom gives you a little shove, and you’re plummeting. 

“That’s my girl.” He doesn’t sound much better off than you while you sob from the unexpected, haywire orgasm. 

It takes a long minute for you to come back to earth, come back to breathless Tom who isn’t saying anything for once in his life. 

That pleasant, floaty post coital bliss gets stained with shame when the clarity of who you just mutually masturbated with hits you. 

He talks first, what a surprise. “Do you feel better?”

“No.” But then, “a little bit.”

“At least one of us does.” You hear him shuffling around on the other end, maybe opening a fridge. It makes you smile to think of him jerking off at his kitchen table. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Why in God’s name are you still entertaining this conversation? You both got what you wanted, and if you stay here too long listening to his voice you’re going to be right back where you started—ready for round two. 

“I won’t feel better until you’re mine.” He sounds humorless, which worries you in itself even without the possessive words added. “C’mon, sweet nurse, aren’t you supposed to help me feel better?”  

“I don’t belong to anyone, Tom. I never will.”

“Oh? Bullshit.” 

“I’m hanging up.” 

Almost as if he knows you’re full of it, or maybe he just doesn’t care about talking into an empty phone line, he continues. “You’re telling me you’ve never wanted a man to take care of you? Protect you, defend you, fuck anyone up who even thinks to raise a hand or word against you?”

Honestly? That’s all you’ve ever wanted, although you’ll take that admittance to your grave. After a lifetime of taking care of other people, having someone to do that for you in return sounds like a castle in the sky. But, the thing about castles in skies? They’re imaginary. You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Let me guess, you’d do all that and more?” Maybe the venomous sarcasm is a little too mean. 

He sighs as if you’re the one assaulting his date, stealing his number, and then calling to harass and annoy him. “Okay, tough girl. Get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“No you won’t.” 

“Mm. Night, beautiful.” 

You wait for him to hang up. He doesn’t. You don’t, either. You feel his grin blossoming through the white noise of the line, listen to him rustle about, hear bottles clinking, water running, fabric swishing. Your eyes get heavy to the sounds of his nightly routine, lashes threatening to touch cheek. 

His voice is void of its usual gruff when it permeates the pleasant, strange, foggy land between awake and unconscious. “Baby?”

“Mm, yeah?” You try to make your mouth move properly, but the words come jumbled and slurred, weighted with exhaustion. 

“Sweet dreams.” 

#tom ludlow x reader #tom ludlow #street kings #tom Ludlow fic

[historia-vitae-magistras]

A lightee ask than usual but do you have any food or eating habit thoughts?

Ooohooohh, I did a whole ass seminar on the history of food. Failed it because I almost bled to death but I got to keep all the material! I've got.... a lot of thoughts and feelings about food culture. Too goddamn many, tbh. This got really long so I'll have to do a part two for other characters if wanted but lol enjoy.

Alfred:

 —Actually pretty gourmet little shit when he's got time and effort. He's made food Maria loves so often she has to give up on pretending she didn't enjoy it because fucking hell, he makes good chilaquiles after they've been drinking and fucking. There is, however, a non-zero chance he hasn't eaten a vegetable since the Nixon administration.

 —With that combustion engine metabolism, he's also perpetually hungry, so he eats whatever is around him. His guts do not like this, especially when it's a lot of dairy.

 —He has that kind of lactose intolerance that's tied to his health and stress, so if he's been particularly freaked out lately, he'll remind the world of his nuclear arsenal when he's got to use the toilet after that triple cheeseburger with a side of deep-fried cheese curds.

 —He's a stress eater too. He eats every negative emotion he's ever had especially when he's trying not to binge drink or do drugs.

 —He’s exceptionally food-motivated. They didn’t call one of his first major historical eras ‘the starving time’ without reason. He has preferences, but food is also food, and he’ll genuinely enjoy it in most forms as long as it's not rotten or otherwise godawful. Cowboy coffee and beans for ten days straight, and he will genuinely be the only man on that cow trail not sick of it by the end.

 —This also goes into why he’s so generous with food. He’s big on homemade food. He’ll make a whole big ass batch of like some sort of mac and cheese, and all the neighbours will get a big ol’ bowl of it with an ‘oh just return the Tupperware whenever,’ and it will genuinely be one of the best things they’ve ever eaten in their lives. Europeans recoil in horror, but our portion sizes are almost never single servings. It’s a generosity and hospitality practice except drinks. He really will down like a 2 liter of Slurpee in a single sitting.

 —He doesn’t mind eating alone. Actually prefers it sometimes. He loves eating in his car. American frontier culture, especially mountain men, had an often hyper-individualized, almost mythic culture of spending long periods alone in the woods and not being very sociable; thus a lot of situations where single servings were a thing, eating alone in quiet without something to do can be a real goddamn luxury.

 —He’s a really big protein guy with his metabolism. Sometimes exists on protein shakes but is more often a beef or barbeque or ham or alligator jerky. And a somewhat chunky Alfred is a healthy Alfred. A perfectly cut no flab Alfred is an Alfred who might be severely dehydrated and on several kinds of uppers.

 —He has better tastes than Arthur who didn't really realize food was supposed to taste good until like ten years ago but his combinations can be equally wild and unappetizing as they are batshit tasty.

—He loves spicy food. He's got so many opinions about hot sauces.

—He’s always hungry. If he isn’t hungry or turns down food, its genuinely a bad sign. If he turns down anything or just is just picking at it his food alarm bells should be sounding. He’s either about to declare war or puke all over the table or keel over dead. Peckish or food coma is his default state. Like if he was a smaller guy someone would say he’s got a binge disorder but he’s tall and beefy so he’s pretty okay.

 —Incredibly adventurous eater too. People will assume since there’s that old school culture of Anglo-American who eats the same 7 meals every week and might keel over dead if the meatloaf is slightly different he’ll be a bit hard to please but then he’s absolutely charmed by everything from Korean kimchi to Lithuanian Lašiniai.

 —He loves anyone who feeds him, just got to be a bit careful because he’s got surprisingly delicate stomach for the world superpower.

 —That American obsession with authencity means he’s surprisingly good at remembering people’s food culture or eating norms. He figured out chopsticks in ten seconds and quickly picked up the cues and manners of eating in any given culture. Still struggles with modulating his voice and personality, so he can often come across as rude, but he's so excited to do so. It's almost frustrating how happy he is to try and adapt to people around him and how happy he can be to fit in.

Matt:

 —He's a very good cook when he's putting in effort for other people, but he's not really like Alfred, who he'll make a whole ass meal for one just to relax on a Sunday.

 —He does tend to eat more vegetables than Alfred, but only because his northern vitamin deficiency has him binging them when he can afford them or they're available during the summer.

  —He can be weirdly picky on his own, but no one ever really needs to ask about his favourite food or how he likes anything because he always just goes with the flow around other people. “Just get me whatever you’re getting.” comes out of his mouth often.

 —There's a lot of sour cream/crema and yoghurt/coconut milk involved when he eats Mexican or Indian food for as much as he loves it.

 —Katya was singlehandedly responsible for his ability to maintain a normal weight during the 20th century by adding rye bread and perogies/vyrenki to his diet. He craves mushroom-umami flavours when he misses her, which is most of the time.

 —When he’s normal and eating the Anglo-North American diet, but he isn’t always eating it, he gets some strong sugar cravings, especially when he’s west of Manitoba. He’s as fond of birch syrup as a flavour as he is maple; there’s just less production. But the kind of deprivation he got and his own tendencies to not eat sometimes cause white sugar to just straight-up burns.

 —There's very much something of François to Matt's dietary habits, but less in his personal tastes and more in that he might be more sensitive to flavours. He has that kind of discerning and slightly oversensitive palate, but he’s a shitty perpetually broke frontier settler colony. He knows better/feels too guilty/is too embarrassed of himself to really indulge it.

 —He kept too much of his peasant communalism in his eating habits. Where Anglo-American communities did have a lot of cooperation, communal eating was a special occasion. The norm was based on the individual household. In contrast, French Canadian habitants still technically lived on medieval land plots and owed labour to a lord while also having a culture of seasonal male work, so Matt grew up used to communal ovens and eating most of his meals around others. Later, in Arthur’s jurisdiction, it was usually the same. He got a plate of whatever he was given, and it wasn’t something he had ever had to initiate himself.

 —Partially, he's sometimes exceptionally bad at eating when he has to choose to do it himself. Especially since the Americanization of the food culture took hold in the '80s and '90s. Whereas Alfred is food motivated from going without when he was little, Matt learned how to block out physical sensation until he collapsed because it was rare that someone, including himself, cared about what kind of state he was in. He just doesn’t eat at all when he’s stressed or anxious. And now it's his sole responsibility to do so as there aren’t the same community structures. He has a lot of Alfred’s abundance now, all the brunch and BBQ places anyone could ask for, but it hasn’t meshed with his eating habits. His people gave up so much of their communal eating in exchange for various choices and then wondered why they were so lonely. So he’ll just microwave a potato or a packet of Kraft dinner a day for a week straight and wonder why he feels dead because, technically, he did eat something. It’s seriously a miracle he got as tall as he did.

 —Feed him nothing but hardtack for three years, and he won't complain until he's dropped dead of scurvy. If Arthur puts some sort of godforsaken mixture of plum sauce or gin-infused spag bol in front of him, he’ll compliment it before he disassociates to get at least some of it down.

#the ask box || probis pateo #hws canada #hws america #meatsack mechanics || the sociology and biology of nations #matthew || my country is winter #alfred || o beautiful for spacious skies

[elliesbelle]

lol

#humungous trigger warning for the tags in the post #but i just need to vent somewhere and i don't want people irl to be in my business about this #or to get too worried and all... #tw: mentions of death and weapons and mental illness and suicide and sh-ing and abuse etc. #please feel free to ignore like i said i just need somewhere to vent #anyway i'm just so sick of being alive fr i've been so massively suicidal this past week and i'm so tired #having bpd AND bipolar AND depression AND ptsd and etc.... #it really hurts so much #and my personal life is in fucking shambles like i just don't know what to do anymore #i feel so fucking alone all the goddamn time #so many friends don't give a fuck about anymore like they straight up just don't check up on me or anything #and my ex... i just. why can't you be more fucking understanding of what i'm fucking going through because of you #how the fuck did you turn my months-long depressive episode into me not caring about you cause i couldn't open about what i was going thru #i get you were fucking lonely but i was trying not to fucking die i was over here being talked off ledges #and then sending me a voice memo saying that you were lonely and trying to make an effort but i just didn't care about any of it #it's not fucking about you!!!! i didn't even let my own girlfriend or best friend in!!!! that's what fucking mental illness is!!!!!! #you promised that you'd be more understanding about my mental illnesses when we started talking again #what the fuck is this then? #why am i breaking down every time that you ignore me or take forever to text #like... she's gone back to calling me by my name instead of calling me 'baby' like she always has #she hasn't called me by my name since we first started talking it's been literally fucking years #and not saying i love you to me anymore... #and how can you fucking promise to stay in my life and still be my 'friend' and then fucking ignore me and don't answer my text messages #how the fuck am i supposed to feel that you haven't responded to me in over 24 hours but you react to days old ig messages from me #i fucking hate having borderline for fucking real i hate that she's my fp it hurts so fucking much #i feel like a fucking child i can't deal with this #i literally woke up from my sleep at like 3 or 4 am this morning nearly screaming #and then my gf found me on the living room couch crying and cuts all over my arm and a kitchen knife next to me #my left arm has been stinging all day from the fresh wounds #too painful to bandage them at the moment

[toxooz]

been binging tf outa Avatar the last airbender bc ive been puking my EVERLOVIN guts out since yesterday and hear me out

#remy would probably get cool weapons or somethin but honey im so sorry it would be the reality #sk8 squad #ollie #ponti #oscar #abio #kari #vinny #remy #im Just Now feeling like the worst is over but holy fuck talk about misery #and i Have to go to work tomorrow anyway since i had to call bc today was supposed to be the recovery day but nOOO body said fuck u #cause this is like the 3rd time this has happened this year alone like i refuse to believe its just a bunch of food poisoning instances??? #i been eating the same for years and i know my immune systems been shot ever since covid but that was 4 years ago now somethin aint right #pray for my downstairs neighbors they had to hear me fighting for my life every 30 minutes PFFFT EEUUUAAGHGG HUFF HUFF HUFF yeah #although i will say all this shit has really toned down my emetophobia now everytime i gotta puke i just let out a long disappointed sigh #but goddamn still brutal tho

[autism-swagger]

I HATE BEING DISABLED!!!!!!!!!!

#I hate the constant doctors appointments and tests and procedures! #I hate all the medication! #I hate using my mobility aids! #I hate being so fucking scared and paranoid when I'm alone that my parents feel like they have to invite me on their anniversary trip! #I hate being unable to reconsume specific media because they remind me of my psychotic episodes! #I hate always being late to school because getting up is so hard! #I hate constantly obsessing over whether or not I'm keeping my movements even! #I hate not knowing what not being in pain feels like! #I hate being so goddamn tired all of the time that I can barely keep my eyes open! #and I just have to make my peace with all because I'm going to be like this for the rest of my life!! #I HATE IT SO FUCKING MUCH!!!!!!!!!!

[tiredstressedemotionalmess]

me, every night for the past three weeks: oh im feelin good rn! and i had a good day today!! im definitely not gonna lie awake filled with anxiety and dread over my future tonight :D

me, lying in bed 20 minutes later looping famous last words: by talos this cant be happening

#its like im fine literally all day qnd then i start to get ready for bed and the Dread sets in #like its an actual physical feeling in my stomach and i just suddenly out of nowhere have to hold myself back from crying #i literally go from perfectly happy to on the verge of tears in an INSTANT and idk whats causing uty #it #like i know broadly ehat the causes are but idk whats causing the specific switch at night #am i tired?? is it just bc im tired??? bc its not consistently at the same time and most of the time i dont *feel* tired #or is it just like. i knoe im going to bed so i know im gonna be alone with my thoughts and so they all come and hit me at once??? #idk idk idk i just know i hate it and i want it to stop i want everything to fucking stop #id say i need a minute to breathe but really ive been using the past four months as my minute to breathe & thats part of the fucking problem #because ive been putting this all off for so long bc its so overwhelming but now theres so much igotta do and theres real tangible deadlines #so i cant keep putting it off but i DO and its just making it all even more overwhelming and my parents arent fucking helping #but its not even their fault because im chosing not to talk to them about this bc talking to them about it makes it all real #and i dont want it to be real yet im not fucking ready for it to be real yet i just need a goddamn minute TO FUCKING BREATHE #i wish i could freeze time and just give myself a day where none of this matters #actually a days not long enough i think i need like. two weeks. two weeks for me to get my shit together where none of this bullshit exists #and i can just do whatever i want and not have to think about deadlines and decisions and the fact that this is all ive wanted since the #7th fucking grade and now that its actually here i cant fucking stomach the thought of it being real because im a goddamn coward who cant #fucking commit to anything or get themself to DO anything and i know its not really my fault bc i probably have adhd and i get #knocked off my ass with a migraine every ither fucking day but i still feel like i should be more prepared for this than i am #and im not prepared and im not ready and i cant get myself ready because i cant do things like this myself because i dont really want to be #doing them at all #like sure! the bitch can write a 400+ page fanfiction no fucking problem!! they can find time for that but a college essay?? even finding #schools to apply too???? dont be fucking ridiculous they cant even get half an app done in the time it takes them to write a two 6k chapters #delete later

[unstabull]

tfw you need a hug but your trauma makes it so the idea of said hug makes your skin crawl and your chest tighten and your fear response kick in

#and the only person whos hugs can help me is fucking across the goddamn planet #i just want to hold my mate #and feel safe #im so fucking scared all the time here alone #actually mentally ill #mental illness #trauma

[raccoonfagdyke]

I just wish people liked being around me

#i feel so fucking lonely #like i was yalking to my friend who was talking about how he was imvited to go out tonight #and thats never happened to me #ive never been invited to places really #unless i kinda invite myself tbh #ive never gone to a bar and then gone to a second location #i just wanna have people who think pf me when theyre doing things #i want people to want me around #and is some of this the DID talking ?? yes #i have parts who mever get to do things like that for one reason pr another #i want people to think im cool in some regard or at least interesting enough to keep around #but no #im just here alone on a friday night and i couldnt go out cuz im sick #meanwhile my partner is sleeping over at a friends place cuz hey shes got a car and is good at people #she gets invited to things all the time and im so fucking burnt out from work that i never get to fucking do anything i hate this so much #i just feel so goddamn alone and unwanted #i know the latter isnt true but it sure fucking feels like it rn #and im gonna be even more isolated this summer since im working 2 jobs #and none of my close friends like to do anything interesting #im just so bored and stagnant and lonesome #i wish i coul sleep

[oetter]

tried to get my drs appt moved back a couple days so i can put off going home as long as possible but no can do their calendar is full 😔✊

#vent post #ignore all these tags #neither of my sisters are comjng home for thanksgiving for the first time ever so itll be me alone with my parents in. that fucking house. #i hate that house. it makes me feel sick just thinking about going back and sleeping in it for even a couple days #and my hometown. god i can’t fucking wait until i have the choice to not go back anymore #my childhood home is haunted by my own goddamn self. ghosts of memories just out of reach. the ghost of what used to be my family #i dread going home more than just about anything. i hate it i hate it i hate it #and the worst part is that it’s my own sister who ruined it for me i think. god she makes me so mad sometimes just thinking about her #her and her conceited excuses as to why she cut us all off and moved to fuckall nowhere and tore the rest of us apart when she went. #she calls it self care but it’s not. it’s selfishness. i dont think she has ever once thought about what her actions have done to us #as far as i’m concerned i have one sister right now. and it hurts but i dont know how else to feel about it #growing up sucks. i hate it. and yet i hate the idea of my childhood just the same. #c’est la vie. so ist das leben. can i trade places with someone else

[racingmiku2018]

i like my job and i like having money but remembering that i have to work makes me feel like a baked good deflating immediately after being removed from the oven. work takes up so much of my energy that i barely have enough for the things i like to do outside of it like drawing and crafting and reading and gaming and i need to spend like 90% of my weekend just recovering from the work week and by the time im up to doing literally anything i have to go to bed bc i have work in the morning

#racing! #its so fucking twisted. an endless cycle of being exhausted leading to being sad youre tired and then being exhausted bc ur sad #what am i even doing all this for #the cycles endlessness leads to hopelessness and it becomes very difficult to be optimistic #keeping my chin up has become a necessity bc if i drop my head for too long it gets impossible to perk back up #and im SO DAMN LONELY ALL THE TIME!!!!!!! I MISS MY FRIENDS #i miss my partner and i miss some of my old coworkers #im so sick of being alone with myself this bitch is terrible company to keep #its really awful. the worst #i know im just tired in general and maybe in the morning ill feel silly for rambling #but right now i really feel terrible and i need to get it out somewhere or ill go to sleep and itll fester and result in weird ass dreams #id rather not have goddamn eldrich horrors and skinbeasts in my dreams again tonight thanks

[high-warlock-of-brooklyn]

.

#ugh just. human feelings #these goddamn human yearnings like needing to be held and hugged and loved and kissed and cared for #and wanting to care and hug and kiss and love without conditions or burdens #everyday waking up alone and I imagine yeah it could be worse I could've not lived past 19 #in fact there's been moments i was sure i wouldn't. it still amazes me that I did #i remember sitting in this dark room with one kinda opaque and dirty window and both doors closed and tears streaming down my face #i was so sad and so angry and so lonely and i remember thinking that fuck I forgot to do the laundry. idk what it is about these moments #it's like brain cannot comprehend the full extent of heartbreak so just focuses on the most mundane things #i had a breakdown weeks before that and all I wanted to do was to clean my table and kept cleaning till my tears made it hard to see clearly #and this morning I'm sitting here on my bed in a different city with a job to go to. with friends and roommates I can go to for a hug #and know i will always be obliged. i have a desk. i don't go to the washroom to hide my tears all the time #and it's just. i still can't believe sometimes that it got better #never believed it could but it did #and now I'm sitting on my bed and all I could think was I'm 23 and I've never danced with someone. I've never been on a date. #I've never woken up warm and happy because the side of the bed is warm and never giggled because someone i love made me smile just for the #sake of seeing my laughter #just. I'm happy and I'm so so grateful for everything I have #but. and yet. #sigh #just the human condition of needing to love and be loved #that is all #to delete later #jace.txt #sorry this got away from me

[munamania]

all i wanted to do with the semester ending is relax and not stress or think or worry about anything for a few goddamn days and people have been screaming on and off outside my window all night and im stressed to high hell about my stupid ass housing situation and how badly i dont want to go out of my way to go physically sign a lease by myself which will take two fucking seconds it’s so stupid to not do it online or whatever and that’s If yk cause the guy seems kinda crazy and is making me think of oh yeah the fucking legal situation that ill probably never be fucking free of like what do these old guys get out of intimidating young women i think all landlords should kill themselves esp weird old racist ones and im not gonna be able to relax till it’s just over and that hinges on me either going there or backing out yk. um and anyway. my brain is exploding and im so fucking tired of being stressed abt a million things and im just tired and once i finally get a glimmer of hope of just the tiniest fucking break something else happens like im sorry i cant go on like this life!!!!! u need to give me some more nice stuff too. jesus

#or at least time to appreciate the nice stuff it's fucking BLEAK out here and i feel like no ones been esp nicey to me lately #and im disappointing everyone cause im an anxious mess but i DONT HAVE TIME TO REGULATE MYSELF. LIKE. #im losing it!!!!! ive been losing it my hair has been falling out from fucking stress for months now im so fucking tired i just need. #a goddamn break and yeah that comes from setting firm boundaries but yk in this instance im not the only one affected #all landlords ever r gonna be scum so u just have to try and quickly work thru if theyre like super evil or just normal evil and like. UGH #every time ive tried to set a normal ass basic fucking boundary lately people have blown up on me. and you know. that is more on them than #it is me. but it's also making me absolutely crazy insane bonkers LEAVE ME ALONE!!! #ok girlblogging breakdown over <3 #abby talks

[oglegoggle]

Bleh. Fuckin hate crushing. Fuckin hate crushing on heteros. I don’t need this. I touched the dude’s fingertips handing him a cool bug. I feel like a goddamn Vulcan getting hot and bothered about touching someone’s literal fingertip for half a second. I need to get railed, how the fuck do I hire an escort???

#this is goggles #ugh I fucking hate feeling desire #this emotion is the worst I’m not supposed to desire I’m supposed to answer dumbass questions all day and go home and to bed when I’m done #I hate this part of the human experience so much it’s literally never helpful #the exact opposite in fact and it sucks #ugh I just like hate myself and I wish I could cut the hunger for touch and companionship out of my heart with a knife #like I’m not somebody who is going to be meaningfully loved I’m a freak and an outsider #I legit want to put my brains on the wall I’m so tired of all this #I want to not experience this shit literally ever again I hate it I hate it so much I hate it so goddamn much #I want to be content with sleeping alone and not being touched and spending time in total isolation #I want to be happy in isolation my hunger makes me so wildly vulnerable #my desire only has the capacity to hurt me #I hate it and I hate that it’s a part of me I’m legitimately envious of aces & aros

[floral-hex]

god, I feel so empty

#this isn’t asking for attention I promise #I don’t know… #where do you even put this? if anywhere #big melancholic existential slump kicked off a week or so ago #I just… I don’t know… #I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know where I’m going. #I don’t know what I’m living for. just to live I suppose. but it feels thin. unimportant. unfulfilling. #it all feels inevitably pointless #and I feel so goddamn fucking empty inside #I feel so alone #I’m not even enjoying my own company much lately #I just mope and yearn and waste away #I need to… progress. I need to evolve. I need to move forward but I have no idea how to do that #the more time I waste the harder it gets but it’s so daunting that I waste more time deciding #what can I do? what can be done? #I just want to know it’ll be okay. I just want to know where to go. #and god I can’t lie I just want to sit with someone and have them enjoy my company and share their affection if only for a little while #no way in hell am I getting back on a dating app anytime soon. what a sadness trap. #it’s either wasted hope or failed connections because I’m too shit at forming relations. at being interesting. at having anything to offer. #who needs that pain? not me. not right away. I feel so needy but I don’t need that right now. #I’m so fucking lonely #I just need something to do. #it’s just… getting hard. the nights are dark. the days are long. it all feels hopeless. #I hate this #but whatever. #this isn’t important #you can ignore this #text

[quietblissxx]

.

#i had a good day and I'm drinking a little bit #and i am going to move on ok i am moving the fuck on #but like can i just ask one time how i can feel so goddamn stupid and crazy for thinking you actually want to come back into my life #when ~you were the one that brought emotions into this at all! i didn't say jackshit about feelings #~you were the one that told me you loved me unprompted!!!! #i was fine with leaving you alone while you were out of town. ~you were the one that said you missed me so much you couldn't stay away #~you were the one who took unnecessary risks bc you said you hated not talking to me #so why do i feel insane for getting invested in you and missing you and wanting you?! #i need to not feel like this is all in my head! was it all just lies and make believe? was none of it real? #personal #I'm sorry but seriously am i an idiot for believing that the guy who said he loves me actually gives one single fuck about me? #like obviously you. most likely. didn't love me. at all. ever. but you did say it and i resent that i feel fuckin crazy for believing you #🍑