#Also fun fact for a long portion of my childhood I didn't know that the rabbids came from rayman. I'm not joking

[wiredalienvampire]

Been thinking about how much my feelings towards the rabbids changed as I grew up overtime, as a little kid I liked them and thought they were funny, as a preteen i grew to dislike them because I thought they were annoying and was pretty sour about them essentially overthrowing the rayman franchise when they began to become their own thing, and as a teen today I have grown to be somewhat indifferent/ sorta appreciating them. Sure I do wish that they didn't over shadow rayman, but with the existence of rabbids go home,and the mario + rabbids game including the sparks of hope dlc, and when the humor is handled well, they can be decently endearing and even kinda cute. They're just silly little bunnies, I can't really bring myself to hate them!

[opinated-user]

(note: it's ok if we disagree, i admit i might be jumping to conclusions due to lack of info that is currently unknown)

I respect your skeptical approach to any new info about LO. However I can't not point out that most structured info about her is based on what she does or says, or ppl's stories that are/was around her. Plus, fun fact about internet - no one is truly anonymous. Like everyone's, LO's personality slowly leakes in public through her lies, jokes, preferences and other forms of media she interacts with. It's quantity and quality, gathered together, creates a stable believable trend in which Courtney's story fits right in. It feels like one of those "final" pieces that connect everything else and that's why I don't think it could be specifically made up or imagined by someone genious.

What I'm trying to say - in my opinion, it fits all too well with what was already known. It isn't just disturbing, it screams!

To this point, I personally believe that LO doesn't seek popularity and plays it low on purpose. She had whole childhood to learn how to be a sneaky predator under everyone's noses. That's a skill.

i don't disagree with any of that, anon. the biggest reason why i try to remark that all of that are allegations and we have no strong evidence that it happened is an attempt to avoid people asking "then why she isn't in prison", "why nobody has called the police" or similars.

taking out of the way for a second that the police are many times ineffective, that many crimes go unpunished for many reasons, even with evidence behind it, and lack of a police record doesn't mean that someone hasn't done something wrong in their life, the truth of the matter is that we don't have anything from Courtney but allegations. this is not Courtney's fault either because she was a literal child when all of that happened, but it is what it is. do i believe those are credible enough considering the kind of person LO is and her actions? yes, just like i also believe that the sankaku accounts are or were hers. but that's not ever going to work as evidence in a court of law or for a police officer to do anything. i can't offer to anyone any other stronger evidence that maybe she did those things beyond fanfictions or posts or maybe some stream clip, and i can't blame anyone either if none of that is enough for them to change their minds about whether LO actually did those things or not. i bet anything that at least a portion of the people who read this blog won't ever believe Courtney's word without a direct confession of LO, which we also know won't ever happen, and i can't blame them either because nobody wants to believe that someone would be so awful of a person and kept living comfortably without any major issues for so long. we don't want to believe that such a person could exist right under our noses and we just didn't see it before. just like many just refuse to believe that LO would go so low as to lie about having cancer. just like many don't believe that LO did enjoyed images made with actual CSA of real children knowingly. some of it will always seem "a step too far" or "not even LO would go that far" to some people, even if LO hasn't actually done anything to give anyone that impression, and there's nothing i can do about it. so i can only talk about that as allegations and claims, because i have nothing else.

[midnightthelynxbat]

Venturiantale Headcannons/Bullshit

Despite the fact that most of them would take a while to explain because of my chaos. I badly want to share the stories I've made of these fuckers, and this might be a fun start. Only focusing on the P.I.E team and some of the ghosts (plus Jimmy and Gavin). Some characters won't have as much as others due to either being underdeveloped or the headcannons are already cannon or common in the Fandom (like Spooker being an anime fan and having a plushie collection). I might do more if this goes well.

Also, as a heads up- there's some mentions of nsfw scenarios like smut and moaning- just because I know some people can be uncomfortable with that. I say this as drugs and alcohol are pretty common in this Fandom, but-

Johnny Ghost:

- He's an absolute jackass to Spooker. Extremely harsh on him for even the smallest things. Despite this, Ghost actually loves Spooker. Sees him as a son. The reason he's hard on Spooker is because he sees himself in Spooker (even if he doesn't fully know why cause Jimmy).

- Jimmy is why he doesn't remember his childhood. Jimmy's creation created a barrier to block out the memories. Basically, Johnny Ghost remembers nothing, but Jimmy remembers everything.

- Ghost eats like he won't ever get food again due to childhood trauma that I will explain in another post. Even if it's something small, like a candy bar, he will scarf it down. He usually ends up choking on food because of this.

- Ghost still can't read in my stories. He can't read or write, but he's oddly skilled at drawing. He actually draws the entity examples in the books Toast writes.

- Ghost is poly and bisexual, currently in a three-way relationship with Toast and Josh. They illegitimately adopted Spooker.

- Ghost is actually related to Spooker, but he never found out until much later. To make a long story short, he was adopted by Barnacle Soup, who later had Spooker.

- Ghost loves to embarrass Toast. His favorite thing to do is have Toast read smut for him and make the poor man imitate the voices. Just fuckin-

Toast: "He moaned out a-"

Ghost: "You better fucking moan it this time."

- He drinks coffee like it's the only thing keeping him alive. At least 6 cups a day. Bastard is the type to say "sleep is for cowards" but then regret the fact he hasn't slept for 3 days straight.

Johnny Toast:

- Toast is an absolute ball of anxiety when it comes to leading the team. He constantly second guesses and doubts himself no matter how hard he tries. Despite this, he's the mother of the team. If you need some life advice, a shoulder to cry on and a snack to make you feel better, Toast is who you go to.

- In this version of them, Toast is actually the one who created the drug version of macaroni. There's normal macaroni, but Toast accidentally discovered what spices to mix to create drug-like effects. However, it can't be taken in large portions. A small dose, like a spoonful, can have the calming and mellowed effects of weed. But a whole box? You're seeing God, and he's riding a unicorn.

- Toast has two werewolf forms. They actually look the same, but what makes them different is what caused them. His werewolf form is controlled by emotion. Negative emotions will result in the violent version, which will listen to no one and will rip apart anyone that gets close. It only listens to Ghost and Josh. The other is brought on by positive emotions. It's basically a giant, overlyfriendly husky.

- Toast has to wear glasses. He has two pairs: his casual ones (they have little crystals hanging from them), his formal ones (just a thin, gray frame), and then the contact lenses he wears on missions.

- Toast eventually manages to reconnect with Gavin. However, in order to do so, Gavin ripped Toast's throat out. But unlike Gavin, Toast had the people and resources to revive properly. Gavin didn't.

- Sometimes, the werewolf form will take partial control and it comes with a chance of Toast having some dog-like qualities. From the ability to actually growl and bark, to the urge to chase something that someone threw, to begging for food. Just this 6'6 man sitting on the floor beside Ghost as Ghost eats and gives him big ol' puppy dog eyes just to get a bite. It's times like this that he's more likely to accept a head pat.

- Toast is also bi and polyamorous.

- Every now and then, he'll see Mary's spirit in his dreams and gets to talk to her. She's accepting of his choice to try and move on.

- He cut ties with his family almost completely after realizing the abuse and manipulation they were doing to him and his siblings.

Spooker:

- Spooker absolutely looks up to Ghost as both an icon and a father figure. He adores that man with every fiber of his being.

- Surprisingly, Spooker is the fastest in the entire group. Due to how often he was chosen as bait, he's now able to run at about 10 miles per hour- and that's when he isn't panicking and actually running for his life.

- He's also the youngest in the team at 19 (Toast and Ghost are both in their 40s and Colon is 20.)

- He's the only one that really tries to befriend the ghosts even if they're trying to kill him. It actually ended up with some of the ghosts either protecting him or going for the rest of the team instead.

- He tries to imitate his teammates sometimes. He'll imitate Toast's accent, Ghost's sarcasm, or Colon's style. He's not trying to mock them at all, but he tries to show his affection for their little details like this.

- Spooker is surprisingly more skilled than most people around him think. He's not strong by any means, but due to his connections to certain ghosts and people (and a P.I.E team oc), he's learned to use his smaller size against enemies.

- He is pan, but not very interested in much intimacy. He'd prefer to just cuddle and talk

Colon:

- Colon has a surprisingly stunning sense of style. He can pull off any outfit. Hoodies, flannels, suits, dresses- you name it, he can do it. He's also extremely skilled with makeup- his favorite pallete is black and blue.

- He sometimes takes up a bit of a second job as a drag performer (right now, his drag name is just the warrior name I gave him: Pooling Amber). He's extremely skilled with it and shocks everyone with how flamboyant he can be.

- He's almost terrifyingly calm. Almost nothing gets under his skin- even the end of the world wouldn't send a single chill down his spine. You know if he's upset, something is horribly wrong.

- He does practice witchcraft and the dark arts- started to learn it after the drama with Cranky (which lasts longer because of oc). He meets up with Cranky and another oc to practice and learn.

- He's probably the strongest in the team alongside Ghost. The two of them are the main ones fighting the ghosts while Spooker is bait and Toast does the research (with Ghost's help).

- He was the one to find a way to seperate Jimmy from Ghost, using a sort of potion to officially split the soul and a spell to give Jimmy a physical body. It was a gruesome scene- best described as Ghost crumbling to his knees and feeling like he's vomiting up his intestines. They're both fine.

- He is bi, but leans more towards men. He's in the same boat as Spooker and isn't really into intimacy. But he's a lot less of a talker. He likes to listen to Spooker ramble.

Jimmy:

- Jimmy's body after being separated is entirely made up of this weird, ink-like substance. He can adjust the solidity of it- allowing him to scare people by melting his face away. He's perfectly fine while doing it, but it takes him a while to rebuild the body back into a fully solid state.

- Jimmy is a cursed being. A fucking gremlin. Because of the substance his body is made of, he's able to melt his hands to climb up walls. He loves to hang upside down and smile at his victims.

- He's surprisingly not wanting to kill the team. He finds them fun and will actually visit him. Admittedly, it's not for great reasons- like he enjoys chasing Spooker around the house on all fours just to scare the poor thing.

- Jimmy and Ghost have a complicated relationship- more like siblings than anything. They both know full well they're technically the same person, and they've known about each other since Jimmy was created. While Jimmy is a bastard that ruins Ghost's life and destroys things he loved and his image, they do care for each other. They grew up together sharing the same body- but now that they're split, they have a better connection.

- Jimmy had a crush on Gavin Toast since Ghost and Toast first met. Due to Jimmy's crush and Ghost wanting to make him happy, Ghost and Gavin had a one night stand in their late teenage years. Ghost let Jimmy take over during this to let him enjoy the night since Ghost had no romantic interest in Gavin.

- When Jimmy got his own body, he took up a form with a similar appearance to their father, Timothy Casket. Whether this is intentional or accidental, I don't know yet- Ghost has more similar appearances to their mother.

- He's gay and kind of unsurprisingly more interested in intimacy than romance.

Gavin:

- He should be dead. Simple as that. The event between him and Toast resulted in him getting torn apart, but the biggest thing that was damaged/removed was Gavin's heart. Not in a "Oh, he's heartbroken" way. Toast ripped Gavin's heart from his chest. It was only thanks to Jimmy that Gavin was able to rebuild the body and repossess it.

- Gavin has to replace some of his body parts at times because they get too rotten since theres no proper blood flow to them. Just Toast going to check on Gavin to find him in the bathroom, stitching a new chin to his face. The old, rotting one just sitting on the counter.

- Gavin's fire extends beyond just his hands. He's like Peril in Wings of Fire. He's constantly burning on the inside, which also increases his body heat to the point that sitting next to him is like sitting beside a fireplace. He can use the fire anywhere along his body. Take steps and leave burning footprints, let out a sigh and a plume of smoke comes from his mouth- he doesn't even have to light a cigarette to smoke it.

- He knew about Jimmy long before the one night stand. He's not dumb. He noticed Ghost's eyes changing to red. He's seen Jimmy watching him from the next door window. He knows full well and wasn't surprised at all when Jimmy revealed himself properly.

- His powers are hereditary. He gets them from his grandfather on his mother's side (his mother isn't from royalty).

- Gavin has always been pretty open about the fact he's interested in men. It's one of the reasons his parents didn't like him at all. They wanted to keep a "perfect image" and believed Gavin was ruining it.

Maxwell:

- Surprisingly a gentle giant. Mostly around Aimee. She's the only one keeping him calm and she's the only one he trusts to show kindness to. He even gifted her a little half mask made of roses to show her his care.

- Half of his face is molten. It's just a bloody mess of molten flesh that drips off as he moves. When global of it hit the floor, it immediately fizzles away and disintegrates. Due to the fact that it was the shock of having acid poured on his face that killed him, the acid didn't get a chance to melt completely through. This is why his spirit is shown with the bloody mess.

- He was born with ghastly white pupils. Even as an infant, people were scared of him because his ice blue eyes seemed to glow in the dark. The white pupils are not from blindness.

- He still cares for the Acachalla family. Due to my insanity cursing the story, Papa is not his brother or his cousin. Maxwell is Papa and Gertrude's only biological child. And due to Papa being an extremely abusive man (this is mostly because his entire character is painfully similar to my own abusive father), the family was trapped with constant abuse. Papa blamed Maxwell for it all and forged evidence, which resulted in Maxwell getting killed. Maxwell does not blame the rest of the family.

- Maxwell accidentally killed Katrina. Gertrude fell ill for some time, and Maxwell wanted to help his mother, but no job would take him, and he needed money fast. So he hid his identity and committed crimes. He stole Katrina's purse by chance while she was out with Ghost, and the two chased him. Maxwell held Katrina hostage in a panic to keep Ghost away, but Ghost charged and made Maxwell flinch- which coaxed him to pull the trigger and shoot Katrina. This was the night Ghost was going to propose to her.

Aimee:

- She's not a stalker in any manner in the story. However, people fear her because of her height. The woman is over 7 feet tall.

- Aimee is actually the sort of ringleader behind it all. People think it would be Maxwell because of how cunning and sly he is, he can easily recruit people and ghosts to join him, but even he bows to Aimee. She's not nearly as violent as the other spirits, but she uses kindness to win over everyone.

- She died from boiling water being poured on her. Unlike Maxwell, she was not killed by the shock. She suffered through the pain until the heat tore away her face down to the bone. This is why Maxwell gave her the flower mask. She's very insecure about it and hates the fact it scares people away.

- The man who killed her was an ancestor of Ghost, hence why they look alike (I know people already came to that conclusion, but-). Aimee didn't realize there were different people when she first saw Ghost. Thus, she reacted violently and tried to kill him for "What he did to her." She later realized her mistake and tried to apologize to Ghost- but he's understandably afraid of her.

[user5726816393]

Please Do Not Read Unless I'm Dead - Seriously

This is going to seem dramatic, but even with being more attentive and changing my diet, my body still feels awful. Its only been like two days or so, but I get this sinking feeling its only gonna get worse and I've had to really consider my mortality. This really could be it. No matter how seriously I try to turn my life around, my liver might just fail me outright, and that's curtains. Show's over.

I'm not gonna just give up and die. Dying fucking terrifies me. There's so much left I want out of life. But I'm also definitely not going to be happy if I act like I know I'm gonna get through this and then abruptly kick the can. I don't think anyone's going to the trouble of regularly checking up on this 'whenever-I-feels-like-it' online journal. But if I do bite the dust and you're reading this, please share it with the rest of my loved ones.

To Mom: I'm sorry I went on ahead. I'm sorry for all the time I spent not taking life more seriously. I'm sorry I didn't take my health more seriously. I'm sorry for saying sorry so much. We didn't always see eye to eye growing up. And honestly, you weren't always right. Even now, I can confidently say that you were wrong some of those times. But I understand that almost everything you did for us, you did out of unconditional love. In the end, it was to have us live happy and fulfilling lives. I look back on my childhood really fondly. Growing up, I had been kind of embarrassed, thinking we were poor and didn't have much. But looking back on it now, I understand that you gave us everything. Truly, we wanted for nothing. Big family trips, Christmas morning, pets, allowances. We had it all because you worked your ass off for it. From before we got up, until after we got home from school, and through the weekends at times. You provided, you showed us so much love, and I had a great life and turned out a pretty good person because of it. Thank you, so much. Love you omma.

To David and Karen: I was a pretty shitty brother growing up, and I think I spent my adult life trying to make up for that with you guys. I don't know if I have. It's not really up to me to decide. I hope now that I'm gone, you guys could find it in yourselves to forgive me, or whatever else properly gives you closure. If shutting the door on our relationship and forgetting me accomplishes that, then do that. I'd just like to act like a big brother one last time, if this is the last thing you guys hear from me. Be good to mom. Go read her portion if you wanna see why. It took too long into my adult life to really appreciate that. She loves and is proud of us, all of us, unconditionally. In the very truest meaning of that word. I promise you that. I wish I spent more time with y'all. I wish I was a better brother. But I'm gonna do one last selfish thing, and ask that you guys be a force for good in the world. It's hard. Everything is fucked up. But I hope you can bear it and push on through. I love you guys. Live happy, fulfilling lives.

To the Boys (and Girls): Y'all, I done fucked up. Joking about my health bit me in the ass after all. I was ready to go into this making a bunch of jokes, because at some point in the past few years, I'd come to terms with the fact that our friendship was just about having fun. It was wrong to expect y'all to be my therapists and have rather heavy, vulnerable conversations with y'all. Our friendship wasn't really about that, and that would have been more stressful on the group anything meaningful or productive. But it doesn't mean that our friendship wasn't meaningful. You all showed your support and that you cared in other ways. Sometimes, the best things friends can do is just be there, being present and showing you cared. And I felt that. I knew if shit were to go down, y'all would have my back. I think fist fighting another group of assholes would have been a good bonding moment for us. I had some of the best laughs and most fun in my life with you guys and gals. Pour one out for your boy from time to time. Non-alcoholic though, cause you know, bad liver and all. Also, please wipe my browser history and destroy my hard drives, thanks.

To the Temple Fam: You guys weren't like a second family to me, you were my second family. Y'all are so blindingly bright and positive and good hearted people that I was embarrassed to be standing next to y'all. Honestly, it kind pissed me off how perfect you guys were. Lowkey kinda pissing me off thinking about it even now, haha. But despite all of that, I have never felt more welcomed and uplifted by others in my entire life. You were the warmth, and joy, and love I wanted to emulate into the rest of my life. I was a pretty angry, bitter teenager growing up and I genuinely think that if it weren't for the overflowing love, support, and sense of belonging you guys so generously shared with me, I wouldn't have turned out as good of a person as I think I am today. Never ever change, you guys.

To Everyone Else: I can't do personalized notes for everyone. Its too much. Honestly, it would be too much to even just name everybody. But I hope I carried myself as a person who appreciated the bond I had with you. I'm ultimately a really reserved person, but I really appreciate the shared experiences I have with people, even if ever so briefly. Every little bit of kindness, of mentorship, of just relating to me as another living being, with a world of complex thoughts and emotions has had a part in shaping who I turned out to be in the end. And in a sense, I hope some tiny part of me lives on through you all.

Thank you all for everything. I wouldn't say that I have no regrets, but I lived a very good and happy life thanks to you. I would gladly live this life with you all over again. Live well.

[yup-thats-me]

No scars to your beautiful || Timothée Chalamet x chubby/plus size!fem!reader

pairing: Timothée Chalamet X chubby/plus size!fem!reader

warnings: there are a lot. Dark themes (?) Body shaming. sorta anorexic. toxic mother/daughter relation. the term 'evil mother'. Low self esteem. Childhood trauma (?) Strict parents. Controlling parents. Mention of cops. Lmk if I missed something

summary: after a dinner with your family made you eat lesser and lesser. Timothée being the protective and supportive boyfriend he is, he has to take the matter in his own hands.

note: okay this maybe called a dark fic. Idk. This is something that happened to me irl. My mom keeps on getting in my nerves. The only coping mechanism I have is to write. it feels much better to just share your story with a stranger in the internet than to tell someone who you physically know. And a fair warning, this is long.

Also, I haven't written for him in a while. Hope you enjoy!

masterlist

"How do I look babe?" You asked coming to stand closer to Timothée in front of the full length mirror. He turned to you, a smirk laid across his pink lips. "Mon amour, you look like you're mine," he leaned in to press a kiss against the exposed skin of your neck. You let him have his fun, although you pushed him away when he began to bite down a bit harder.

"What about me?" He smoothed out the front of his red shirt fumbling with the ironed cuff of the silk shirt, a sign he was anxious. You shook your head from side to side, smiling at him. "You're fine. Quit being nervous. You've met them before!" You pulled him for a tight embrace. Timothée melt in your hold instantly.

You both had been invited by your parents for a family dinner. Being the only child, you had to heed their request, much to your dismay. Not that you didn't loved your parents. You did dearly, but there's not a single woman who don't have mixed feeling for their mothers. It was the same for you.

Gathering your belongings, you two stepped out your house to the car parked outside. Timothée smiled as he held open the door for you. Giggling at him, you took your seat. He too his and ignited the engine. In minutes, you were passing all the familiar houses in your neighborhood. Timothée was saying something to you, but you completely drowned out his voice, your mind beginning to replay the childhood memories.

How you'd get in trouble everytime you'd sneak out with your friends, how you'd help your father in the garden and watched as your mother made you food. You had a good childhood expect some real cruel memories where you'd fight with your mom because apparently, you ate too much. She was so conscious about your figure. She would set diet charts do all the things necessary for you to have the 'perfect hourglass figure'. But it wasn't your fault that your body didn't cared how much your mom wanted you to have the perfect figure and grew its way out.

It also wasn't the fact that you hated your body. In fact you were pretty comfortable in your own skin. A great portion of your self esteem was because of Timothée. Everyday, he tells you how beautiful you were. That he loved the strech marks on your waist, how soft and plumpy your cheeks and butt was. He loved every inch of you. You knew he did, but that didn't stopped your mind from playing games with you.

After about thirty minutes you reached your house. The same one you grew up in. You were afraid your mom would say some snarky remarks as she always did. You weren't worried though. You had Timothée to support you.

"Here we are!" He said switching off the engine. He placed a kiss on the back of your hand. "I'm here, y/n." He whispered. He partly knew of your relationship with your mother. Even though you haven't told him all the details, he knew it was hard for you. You smiled at him softly, opening the door of the car.

You laced your hand with his and waited for the door to open. Your mom opened the door, a smile of some sort on her face.

The moment she saw you, her brows furrowed. "Wow y/n, you look fuller." That was the first thing that came to her mind despite the fact of seeing her daughter after about nine months. Your hands instantly squeezed Timothée's. Timmy squeezed your hand in return, the code for, ''Its okay, mon chérie."

You smiled at her awkwardly as he pulled you in for an uncomfortable hug. She stepped aside to let you both in.

Soon, you all were sitting on the dining table. You chatted, catching up on each other's life. Your father had grown the habit of going to the dog shelter down the street to play with the stray dogs. He always loved dogs. Your mom on the other hand was the same. Her scornful nature ever present.

Timothée had always got along with your parents from the very beginning. So, it wasn't an awkward dinner conversation, silence setting in every once in a while when all you focused on the food in your plate. Your mom had made pasta, knowing it was Timmy's favourite.

"Babe, can you pass the bowl please?" You told Timothée refering to the bowl of pasta. He smiled at you, reaching for the said bowl. Before he handed it to you, your mom cleared her throat to get your attention. Looking at her, she slightly shook her head from side to side telling silently you not get anything more than what's on your plate.

You became pale. If it was another person, you wouldn't have given a shit but this was your mother. The very woman who brought you in this world. This was her technique to get you to do anything she wanted you to. She would force a sense of responsibility on you to get the work done.

When Timothée did hand you the bowl, you set it aside. It made Timmy confused, although he kept from saying anything, making a mental note to ask you about it later.

When the dinner was over your mom spoke. "Y/n, you'll help me with the dishes," even if her voice may seem the same to anyone else, you knew better. That was the tone she spoke in when she wanted to talk with you in private. You nodded your head.

"I can help too," Timmy offered cheerfully. Your mom smiled at him. "It won't be necessary dear. You spend time with (y/f/n), me and y/n can handle this."

With that, the four of you dispersed To your respective places. You with your mom in the kitchen, your dad and Tim in the living room couch. It was quite as you wiped the dishes dry. You refrained from starting a conversation with her, knowing all too well it would go downhill in seconds. "You've become fat, Y/n," she began making you scoff

"I mean look at you. You don't even have a thigh gap."

Her words were hurtful. She intentionally said them to pierce the skin. You could have talked back but that wasn't the way you were brought up. Growing up, if was a rule in the household that you can't talk back to your parent let that be your mom or dad. If you did, you were sure to have a hard time.

You kept quite once again. "Girl you better listen when I tell you Timothée will leave you if you get any bigger. Eat less." Ahm. She striked your weakness. She knew how much you loved Timothée and the thought of him leaving you for anyone else, made you sick to the core.

Her words did what they were intended to do.

Timothée came in view twenty minutes after. By then, all the dishes were done. "Ready to leave, y/n?" He questioned. "Yeah..." You drifted.

Your abstract answer made Timmy aware that something was wrong. He'd aske you when you'll be in the car.

You bid your parents goodbye and left the house. In the car, Timothée checked on you multiple time, asking what was wrong. You gave the lame excuse of having a headache. Clearly, Timothée wasn't having any of the bullshit. He knew you like the back of his hand, regardless he shut up once he got the sign that you didn't wanted to tell him what was wrong.it was alright with him if that meant you'd be happy.

•••

It had been a week since the dinner took place. From then on, you'd skip dinner and lunch everyday. Your mom's words replaying in your head that there was a possibility that Timothée may leave you for someone better looking than you, granting he's a movie star and you're just...you.

Timothée noticed your change. How you'd wake up late to avoid breakfast and you'd also engage yourself in something to keep you from eating lunch. You'd only eat dinner and even that was just a bowl of cereal.

If your routine went on this way, you'd be sick. You knew that too but couldn't risk loosing Timmy. You Timmy.

Timothée decided to confront you. "Mon amour. I know something's wrong. Tell me what it is so I can help you!" You kept avoiding eye contact with him, trying to find a good enough reason to make him belive. "I'm on my period," you blurt out.

Lie. That was a straight up lie. You knew it was lie. Timothée knew it was a lie as well.

He loved you so much that Tim had a period tracking app in his phone to keep him informed about your cycles. And it wasn't till the end of the month.

He went silent. "I have some errands to run. I'll be back in an hour," he announced grabbing the car keys form the table.

"Be safe."

"Always."

He began to drive down the familiar road to your house. In half an hour, he reached his destination. Pressing the doorbell, he waited for someone to answer. Your mom answered the door. "Oh Timothée! What a pleasant surprise!" She pulled him for a hug.

"Thank you Mrs. L/n. May I have a word with you?" Your mom nodded, stepping asid to let him in.

"Want something dear?" Your mom offered him.

"No thank you. Can you please spare a minute. I need to talk to you. It's urgent." He said in a hurry. It seemed that your father was in the dog shelter he talked about. That didn't bothered Tim. You and your thought was all on his mind.

"What is it dear?" Your mom took a seat in the couch opposite of his.

Timothée breathed in deeply. "What did you tell Y/n that night?"

Your mom leaned back, an eye-roll following her action. "Huh. I told her what she needed to hear." Her tone was nonchalant, almost as if she didn't wanted to think of you even.

Timothée was getting frustrated with her but was forced to keep his composure entirely because the woman in front of him was his lovely girlfriend's mother. "No. I need to know what you told her. Tell me exactly what you said to her." His voice was commanding.

Your mom sighed. "I told her she gotten fat. And that you'll leave her because of her figure. Surely there are more beautiful women than her."

Timothée couldn't belive what he was hearing. The woman was shaming her won daughter. How can she be that way? It was beyond his comprehension.

"With respect, Mrs. L/n. How can you's say that I'd leave her? I'd rather die than be with someone else who isn't y/n!" He was on his feet now, his anger seeping through his usually calm features.

Your mom got up from her seat. "Don't you lie Timothée. I know you. You stars always want your partners to have the perfect shape. I only told y/n the truth."

Timothée greeted his teeth, his words harsh and sharp. "You don't know me then Mrs. L/n. You don't even know your daughter."

They fell quite. The air thick between them. Usually when a boyfriend would talk to his girlfriend's mother, it would be for him to have her daughter. And the girl would have to defend her boyfriend. This was the total opposite. He had to be his chérie's knight in shining armour and defend her from her supposedly evil mother.

After sometime, Timothée spoke again. This time calmly. "Mrs. L/n. Ma'am, you have the upmost respect from me but if anything, anything at all happens to y/n, the love of my life, I'd be forced to report you to the cops."

Your mom froze in her spot. Timothée shook his head at her and left the house leaving Mrs. L/n speechless.

On his way back he mad a stoppage at the grocery store and brought all things necessary to prepare your favourite meal.

When he got home, he found you asleep on the couch. He smiled picking you bridal style and tucked you to bed while he went downstairs to make dinner.

You woke up to delicious smell of (y/f/f). Opening your eyes, you saw Timothée standing beside your bed with a bowl/plate of (y/f/f).

Before you had the chance to say anything, Tim spoke first. "If you turn this delicious, mouth watering (y/f/f) down, the tickle monster would have to come for you," he smirked as your eyes widened.

He sat down on the bad and began to feed you. "Y/n remember. I love you and only you. No matter your caste, creed, colour, shape of any of those societal bullshit. You're perfect the way you are," he finished talking, tucking a stray strand of hair out of the way.

He would do anything to prove that each word he said, was and forever will be true.

[hipboneregression]

tw:ed vent (numbers, behaviors)

these vent posts are becoming a daily thing and also very long, but i don't really care. no one reads them, they get buried in my other posts, and they are honestly helping me cope. that was the whole point of creating a tumblr again so here i am. triggering shit after the jump if you're interested.

somehow i lost 1.8lbs overnight, even after eating a poke bowl + cheese and fancy crackers for my OMAD last night (which i thought would bump my weight up due to carbs + sodium & the fact that i'm 6 days out from my period). i have less than 24 fasting hours left until brunch tomorrow, but am planning on drinking at the company xmas party this afternoon (oops lol). i'm still planning on dinner being some weed gummies + bone broth, but we'll see. i might cave. i hope i don't cave, but i might, especially if i get too drunk. the fact that i have both a brunch date, as well as a pizza+hockey game double-date tomorrow should be motivation enough.

the thing that's really getting my goat rn is the fact that i have lost so much more steadily this month as compared to last. literally the only two things that have changed are 1) my water intake and 2) my exercise.

i'm drinking more water than ever, which is honestly making me feel better throughout the day so that's a benefit in and of itself. water truly does move things along in the body and i am never looking back from that now lol.

but my exercise - i've really ramped down the intensity and actually haven't exercised at all this week as i've been sick. i was reading into how exercise might actually slow down or even hinder weight loss and now i'm sitting over here all surprised pikachu face about how much i was likely torturing myself when my ED first developed and during my last bad relapse. obviously it's a lot harder to work off everything you eat than to just not eat - but that was my preferred behavior and method of purging. it was a fucking compulsion. everything in my childhood and my past led me to believe that i was a fat fuck simply because i didn't work out and move enough. and the guilt i felt when i couldn't work out was so fucking overwhelming.

but the reality is that the intensity at which i was working out, coupled with the extreme caloric restriction, was making my body bonkers and driving my body into some sort of metabolic adaptation. during my last relapse, i was fucking fit for my size. i was 200lbs and could run a 10 minute mile and run 10ks like no problem, but i couldn't fucking drop the excess weight no matter how much i fucking exercised. i was working out too much to really drop my calories too fucking low, so i felt stuck, especially because the exercise at that time still felt like such a fucking compulsion. the scale would sky rocket up and down 5lbs in a day without reason. i felt weak. i had fainting spells. i felt sick. i got overuse and overtraining injuries left and right. i felt guilty more often than not even though i was eating clean and all that. plus i was so much more fucking hungry. it's easier to cope with hunger when i'm not doing HIIT or running for an hour every god damn day.

truly loling at myself "curing" my exercise addiction with OMAD fasting. i'm now convinced (in probably still my ED honeymoon) that this is the way and i've been a fool all along. i don't need to do shit for exercise more than 20 minutes a day, if that. the important thing is the portion control. i really wish i could fucking figure out a way to portion control that isn't so black and white, but i can't. fasting is addictive and it's easy. it's so fun when you're at a high weight like me and you can just fucking drop almost 2lbs overnight like it was god damn nothing. the hell will come later. i know it's coming, but i'm trying to enjoy this in whatever perverse way i can, for now.

xxx

[kashmiresims]

Starting Over

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Thank the great plumbbob, midterms were finally over! Some students might celebrate by throwing house parties or going downtown to drink and have fun but Reginald Orbinson had a different way to celebrate. He was going to go back to his apartment and play in a Rush Hour tournament that was supposed to last until dawn. 

First though, he need caffeine to help him stay awake. He'd been at a three hour midterm since six  o' clock that evening. He had written so much on the essay portion that a dull ache had formed in his wrist. Holding a mouse for the next few hours wasn't going to help it. It'd be surprising if he didn't get carpal tunnel before he was 25.    

"Hey Blue eyes, the usual?" The barista  asked.

He pressed his thumb into his wrist to try and soothe the ache. He nodded, and got a bit flustered at hearing the nickname said in a flirtatious tone. He didn't engage with the barista usually, she had dark eyeliner and dyed hair, was too unpredictable for him to return any interest and besides, wasn't she supposed to flirt with the customers? Isn't that how she got more tips? He wondered as he eyed the glass jar full of single simoleons and concluded it to be true.  

So he didn't think much of it.  He'd come into the SSU coffee shop enough times and ordered the same cup of cappuccino that she knew him, though she referred to him as 'Blue Eyes' since he never introduced himself. At least it was better than 'four eyes' which his childhood bullies had called him.

She handed him his cup of cappuccino and he paid without a word or a thank you. He found it best if he didn't speak at all.

It was frustrating how he could be as eloquent and self-assured as could be while debating or speaking up in class about a subject yet when he found himself speaking to women, his words and mannerisms took a turn for the awkward.  

He turned around, ignoring the wink that the barista had given him, despite not leaving a tip, to search for an open chair in the joint while simultaneously blowing steam off his cup. As his eyes scanned the room they abruptly halted on a figure sitting on one of the sofas.

His heart did a little flip-flop.

Now why did it do that? It had been years since he last spoke to Alanna Thackery. He knew her to be a manipulative tease and a liar. So why did he feel drawn to her still?

Why were his feet walking toward her?

Why was he sitting down next to her?!

He tried to calmly sip his cappuccino and not be so obviously interested in how her reaction would be. She had been reading a book and briefly glanced to him in a warm smile of greeting, the same one she had always worn. It's what made her so approachable, so very likable. One of the many things he had liked about her in high school.

At recognizing him, her smile retreated to something else. Something almost... sad and she laid her book down between them, turning her body and attention toward him.

"Reggie?"

"Hey..." He responded.  

They stared at each other for a few seconds. She was clearly bemused. He was the one who couldn't figure her out though.  Was she expecting him to explain himself? He couldn't even understand why he was sitting there.

"Um..." He burbled before taking another sip, trying to gather his mind, "How have you been?"

He could have cringed at himself for how stupid he sounded. She had once been the easiest person for him to talk to. It all changed at the Battle of the Bands, when he found out she had only pretended to like him. He shouldn't still be hung up on this girl who had lied to him, played with his heart and never had the decency to apologize.

"I'm doing fine," she answered after a long moment of studying him, "Though you haven't spoken to me since high school and I can't imagine you really care.”

Why did she sound so bitter about it? He was the one who should have been bitter. He had been, actually. He felt he had been robbed of a happiness that only she could have given him.

How could he tell her what was on his mind and ask her the questions that had been plaguing him for years? It was fate that they were here at the same time on the same day. Something was surely supposed to happen.

He set his empty cup down and balanced the side of his face on the edge of his fist, unable to meet her bewildered stare, "You know, I really liked you in high school. I just never thought you would turn out to be such a liar."

Alanna crossed her arms and all warmth in her face was replaced with hard offense, "I don't have to sit here and be judged by you, Reggie. You can think of me whatever you want but I'm not the liar."

She stood abruptly, reaching for her book; he did also but blocked her from obtaining it "What do you mean?"

"Maybe you should get all the facts before taking your sister's word for it," she said. She was growing more irritable now. She snatched her book up and marched out of the coffee shop. He'd never see Alanna so angry before.  

He had wonder what she meant by that. His sister, Evelyn Jane, was the one who had discovered the truth about Alanna. Then again, Evie could be quite the manipulator. He frowned, an awful feeling of regret suddenly spreading through him. What if she manipulated me too? He adjusted the strap of his book bag and went after her.

"Alanna! Alanna wait!" He called after her and jogged to make up the space she'd put between them. She was already down the sidewalk but slowed her pace.

"What?" she sighed and turned to face him with a hand on her hip. She sounded so exasperated with him, but he was determined to understand.

"I'm sorry," he found himself apologizing. He didn't handle that well at all, "Can we start over?"

"Why would you want to if you think I am such a liar?"

The issue was, he genuinely didn't want to think of her as a liar. He never in his life wanted to be proven more wrong than in that moment. He wanted Alanna Thackery back—the kind, smart, and beautiful girl he had known her to be.  

"Tell me what's true then. I'll listen," he promised with a hint of plea.

She flipped the book over in her hands, considering his request.  

"Fine, meet me tomorrow morning at my usual place. We can start over there," she agreed. She didn't bother elaborating on what her 'usual' place was but he could figure it out. She knew he could too. "Goodnight."

She strode off into the darkness. He'd known she attended the same campus, but this was the first time he had actually seen her around. He tried not to think about her too much, but she was just so...appealing he couldn't stop, even when he convinced himself he was out of her league—he being the mayor's son. The sad truth of it was, being the son of the mayor didn't bring him as many perks as he would have liked. He had applied to the Hoh Fruhm fraternity at Sim State only to be rejected. His father had attended before him, which Reggie thought would surely guarantee him a spot. Maybe if he'd had been allowed to join he wouldn't be so hopelessly and socially awkward either, maybe he would have grown out of it by now.

He checked his phone and found out that his chat with Alanna had been longer than he anticipated. His tournament would be starting in five minutes! With no time to spare he broke into a jog and headed back toward his apartment.

Upon entering, he threw his shoes off and his book bag to the floor. Then he was greeted with a loud ‘squawk!’. He’d bought a bird, whom he had named Kissinger, to keep him company while he went to school. Usually Reggie would take Kissinger out and pet him when returning from class but there was no time if he needed to sign in and play the first match. Kissinger let out another squawk; offended by the break in routine.

A chat box popped up as soon as he was logged on and his status was set to 'online'.

Violet_Fire : I thought u were gonna give up b4 it started

Reggie smirked at the taunt and keyed in a reply. Just in time too, the user names were being shuffled into brackets. If he won two games, and they did too he’d come up against Violet Fire in the third tier match.

MegaZoom : No way. You are going down! If you can even stay awake long enough.

Violet_Fire: we'll see ;)