#SORRY IF THIS SUCKS BTW the anxieties got me

[unabashedmagicalgirlfan]

HIHI ITS ME ISABEAU STARTAGAINAPROLOGUE'S FRIEND. hello there i will. provide my color explanations.

mirabelle is pink for reasons that should be obvious. its The Defacto Precure Protagonist color theres been like two exceptions in the whole franchise to that rule and one of them was debatable and mirabelle just has that magical girl protagonist energy yknow?

isabeau is red because red precure, when they aren't the angsty ones, are the energetic sporty kinda goofy ones, which i feel fits him a bit?

odile is blue because blue precure tend to be studious and calm characters and the "voice of reason" of the team. they also tend to be emotionally repressed though #Lol

bonnie is yellow because in precure yellow tends to be the color of "kid appeal characters", the characters meant to be likeable for the really young kids in the audience. hell in one season the yellow precure was just straight up a 10 year old. while in earlier seasons yellow precure tended to be the cute ones but in later seasons they tend to be zany chaotic comic relief characters, bonnie was picked for the latter characterization.

white precure are rare in precure so it is a bit hard to assign meanings to them, but siffrin is white because white precure have a tendency to be the "second in command" and usually behave as foils to the main characters, which fits how siffrin is the protagonist of the actual isat game even though mirabelle is meant to be a conventional rpg protagonist. i also just felt it made sense if siffrin was the only character to have an "isat typical" theme color, given he's the main protag of canon isat, and white is basically the only monochrome color that gets used as a precure color, soooo yeah. as for the red accents, most white precure have some kind of accents to break up the design and red just. made sense given its use in isat's ending.

If you would be open to it I'd love to hear about your precure au

YEASSS admittedly i dont. have much? in way of plot. it was more so "wow mira really fits for a precure protagonist she is so magical girl" and i just kinda went from there? its just kinda. the pregame plot but also now they are precures and thats how they fight sadnesses off. i wanna come up with more for it but weh. Isabeau i think would be so hyped abt the outfit. and Odile. . i dont think she is as hyped this is not what she was expecting nor rlly what she wanted but sucks for her! become magical girl.

siiif.. idk abt him. also a precure for sure but idk how that happens for him. shrugs. and bonnie i do not know. r they also a precure but the others just. dont let em fight. i dont know! eek!!

Loop is a mascot creature. (idk if there. is another mascot critter that mira would have beforehand or if there just. is a lack of one through the entire journey.erm)

aaas for what colors they are. 1: isat universe is still monochrome!! i just think.itd be funny if their outfits were the only thing in color. for funsies! anyways 2: Mira is pink, Isabeau is red, Odile blue, Bonnie (if they are a precure) yellow, aand Siffrin white (rare color in precure but..siffy can get it. as a treat) with red accents. midseason cure..

there r !! reasonings behind these color choices buuut. id like for my dear friend my bestie @unabashedmagicalgirlfan to explain em since she was the one who helped a lot with coming up with reasonings and i dont wanna take credit for that -w-'

[losver07]

remus "have you ever been with someone and felt so far away from them even though they were actually lying next to you? like you're not there, like you have the certainty that any moment can be the last, and just the thought of that makes you feel like it's already over. and it's— it's sad, because it means it's the end, but you're still together, and that makes it even harder than if one of you was, i don't know, like, gone. and you feel guilty, but you kinda wish you were gone, just to see if that'd make it a bit better somehow. easier. you know what i mean?" lupin and sirius "moony, it's 3am" black

[primordial0riginator]

Do I ever get tired of being a weirdo with a warped sense of reality that I make myself miserable with

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | fake marriage au [18+]

in holy matriphony ch5. child's play

ᰔ pairing. fake marriage au - neighbor&realtor!gojo x nurse!reader (ft. choso x reader & suguru x reader)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is your extremely annoying next-door-neighbor who you're pretty sure is the most insufferable man you've ever met. given the fact that you exclusively work the night shift at a chaotic emergency dept, just got broken up with your boyfriend of seven years, and have been taking care of your sick mother ever since her multitude of diagnoses, yet somehow your neighbor is the main source of stress in your life should speak volumes. but when your mother's medical bills start to skyrocket to more than you can manage, and you learn that said neighbor of yours has the best private health insurance plan in the country, you ask him to enter a matrimonial agreement with you for the spousal benefits all in the name of saving a few hundred thousand dollars. but you'll have to see if suffering cohabitation w him is worth any amount of money.

ᰔ genre/tags. fluff, smut, angst, enemies to lovers (sort of), annoyances to lovers (that's more like it), small town romance, fake marriage, next door neighbors, lots of bickering, suburban shenanigans, slow burn, mutual pining, gojo likes to play house but you don't, hatred for the american healthcare system, gojo always forgets to mow the lawn, jealousy, an insane amount of profanity, mentions of cigarettes, depression/anxiety; btw gojo in this fic is in his mid 30s n reader is in her late 20s

ᰔ warnings. reader in this fic has a sick mother w alzheimer's & cancer so there is secondary medical angst!!

ᰔ chapter. 5/x

ᰔ words. 4.8k

a/n. helloo my ihm friends! long time no see. hope you're all doing well and thank you so much to everyone who sent me kind messages about the whole ihm gojo ex wife thing haha. i really appreciate it :) i feel more confident about my writing decisions now, and that's all thanks to you guys! anyways, i will be posting shorter chapters for ihm going forward, so sorry if some chapters have slightly abrupt endings or stuff like that. i guess my goal is to post shorter chapters but more frequently! we'll see how it works out. anyways, hope you enjoy this chapter and see you at the bottom!!

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Ever since admitting your mother into hospice, things have been calmer inside your mind. After passing the initial wave of agony that came with no longer hearing her voice down the hall or seeing her silhouette in her bedroom as you walked past it, you realized that…a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. No longer setting alarms at the height of every other hour to remind your mother to take her medication, no longer viewing every interaction you had with her as some form of study you needed to jot down in a binder for her neurologist’s records, and no longer driving her to all of her chemotherapy appointments, only to leave them feeling like you purposefully just took your mother to a place where they sucked all the life out of her in exchange for the slim promise of giving it all back to her someday.

Maybe it was evident in the way your shoulders felt less tense as you rolled them back, tilting your neck to the side and no longer feeling the painful strain that tugs a wince onto your face. The other day, you caught yourself humming a song as you drove to work. Your skin, usually feeling cracked and dry from stress and exhaustion, now has a slight plumpness to it like before. A more youthful glow, like the version of yourself you were before your mother became sick. The version of you that so quickly deteriorated, and one you didn’t even know still existed somewhere within you. 

There has also been time for hobbies. Rarest of occasions, you find yourself sauteing some yellow and white peaches in a saucepan over medium heat in Gojo’s kitchen, humming that song once again that’s been stuck in your head. The sundress you’re wearing matches the pink of the syrup that pools at the bottom of the pan, and you feel like you’re living your cottage core dreams in this brief moment of reprieve you’ve allowed yourself to fall into.

The sound of slippers tapping down onto the hardwood floor startles you out of your gleeful trance, and you turn your neck to the right to see a pajama-clad messy-haired Gojo shuffling his feet across the open area into the kitchen with a dark black mug in his hand.

“Why aren’t you dressed??” you ask him in a panic.

“I’ll get dressed later,” he tells you dismissively as he grabs the glass pitcher of coffee from where the coffee machine was nestled up against one of the counter corners.

“You’re stressing me out. Your mom told us to be there in two hours,” you say, putting your hands on your hips in disapproval as you hear the sizzle of the peaches in the saucepan. 

He entirely ignores you, choosing to instead drag his gaze down the form of your body. “Woooow, twice this month I get to see you in a cute dress,” he comments, pouring coffee into his mug but his eyes are still on you, “lucky me.”

“Oh Shut. Up,” you sneer at him with a harsh roll of your eyes, “your fake flattery might work on the lonely middle-aged women you seduce to make a living, but it won’t work on me.”

His shoulders push back before he slumps them slightly, his brow lifting with confusion. “It’s not fake though? I mean it. You look really nice right now.”

You point an accusatory sugar-syrup coated wooden spatula at him. “You’ve just been conditioned by the patriarchy to get a boner at the sight of a woman in a kitchen.”

“What–...no–...why do you always have to say stuff like that whenever I compliment you? Can’t you just accept it?”

You cross your arms over your chest. “I refuse to be flattered by an insolent man like you.”

He sighs, setting his coffee mug down on the counter, and you watch the way the fringe of his hair hangs over his forehead as he gazes into the contents, swirling it around with a loose grip on the handle. “Is this how it’s going to be everyday? I try to be nice, and you–...well, you know, are you.”

“Well who else should I be?”

His eyes lift up to meet yours, the slightest of a cheeky grin on his face as his eyes wander down the form of you again. “I don’t know. Someone a little…softer? Like, you’ve got this really pretty dress on, and then you’re telling me off about patriarchy-induced boners. It’s a little, uh, contradictory?”

You gasp. “You’re trying to control me. I knew it. You are poisoned by the patriarchy.”

“What?”

Your eyes narrow at him. “You have this image of a perfect and cute little wife, who’s gonna wear pretty dresses all the time, and bake stuff in the kitchen, and get all blushy when you tell her she looks beautiful, and you expect her to have this soft little personality that never argues with you or disagrees with you…ALL BECAUSE OF THE PATRIARCHY!!!”

“...I–...Okay, you’ve lost me.”

You let out a hmph! noise. “Can’t even discern his own brainwashing. Sad.”

“All of this just because I tried to tell you that you look nice?”

“I know what your ulterior motives are, you creep.”

His eyes spark a little at that, the corner of his mouth tugging up into a cheeky grin as he sets the coffee mug down onto the marble counter and he straightens his spine. You blink, watching with confusion as he crosses the distance between the two of you, to where you’re taking a small few steps backwards until your lower back presses against the edge of the island countertop. He cages you into the surface with his frame, followed by the palms of his hands sliding over the marble on both sides of you, and you feel his forearms press against the curve of your waist as he traps you in with no way out.

“S-Satoru,” you stutter, looking up at him with wide eyes, “what are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?” he says, his voice deeper with a nonchalance that has you shiver, his gaze dropping to your lips when you part them slightly.

“T-The patriar–” you squeak out, but he suddenly dips his head down to kiss you.

Your breath hitches in your throat, eyes immediately closing when he moves his lips against yours, one of his strong arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer to him and your hesitation is something that only lasts a brief second before you find yourself kissing him back. Some noise leaves his throat, deep and raw and sounding pleasantly surprised as he captures your lips more fervidly now, his hands smoothing down to hold your hips and his teeth slightly nip at your bottom lip. 

You grab a fistful of his shirt, unsure of whether you want to pull him closer to you or push him away, but the moan that you mumble against his lips only makes his grip on your hips even stronger, fingers digging into the softness through the thin fabric of your dress. 

The oven suddenly starts beeping, startling you and you pull away from the kiss with a gasp, eyes rounded as you look up at him, but his are lidded and dilated as his gaze remains glued to your lips. 

With a heaving chest, you try to push him away by a weak fist to his sternum but he’s unrelenting.

“You taste sweet,” he says, like some comment he noted in his head but accidentally voiced out loud.

“I–...” you inhale sharply, “I just ate three macerated peaches.”

“Uh-huh,” he barely acknowledges before leaning in to get another taste, but you push him away harsher this time.

His hands let go of your hips entirely, finally breaking out of that kiss-induced trance he was in, but he still remains close to you in proximity, so much so to where you can feel the heat from his body. It’s comforting almost, radiating through the soft cotton of his long sleeve shirt, and you find yourself subconsciously leaning towards him before you snap out of it too, and rock your weight back against the island countertop.

You cross your arms over your chest, hoping the flush to your cheeks isn’t showing. “Oh okay so we just casually kiss now?”

He shoves his hands into his plaid pajama pant pockets, leaning away from you slightly. “For as long as I can get away with it, yeah.”

“You are breaking the rules.”

“You never said no kissing.”

“I said no touching.”

“Ehhh kissing isn’t really touching, though, is it?”

“You sound stupid.”

“I always sound stupid to you.”

The oven starts beeping again, and you realize it’s long been preheated to the setting you had placed earlier. You slip away from him with haste, feeling his gaze on you as you press a button on the oven to turn the alarm off, and you stare at the handle for a moment or two to calm the beating of your heart down. 

Your eyes catch sight of something on the side of the fridge. A little magnet made of rubber that has the word London on it as well as the design of the Westminster Cathedral with golden accents. You recall that Gojo went on a trip to London recently, and that he didn’t bring you back any souvenirs from there like he did for your other neighbors. And you want to pretend, you want to shove it down, that incessantly childish feeling that wonders why he didn’t bring you anything back. You want to continue to pretend like it doesn’t hurt your feelings. Something so miniscule and small. But you–...well, you can’t.

You spin around to face him. “Do you hate me?” you bluntly ask.

He blinks at you. “Huh?”

“Do you, what, I don’t know, think I’m annoying or something?”

He shrugs with his hands still in his pockets. “I mean, yeah, I do think you’re annoying sometimes. But in a silly way. Like we’re just pals horsin’ around, y’know?”

You snarl at him, putting your hands on your hips and narrowing your gaze until he’s hardly even visible anymore. “No. I actually find you annoying. Like, wanna-run-you-over-with-a-bus annoying. You just have horrendous social awareness and think that everyone loves you.”

“You actually don’t like me?” he asks, like he can’t even believe that someone wouldn’t.

“Yes,” you say, “now get out of my way.” You make an attempt to push past him, purposefully knocking your shoulder into him to assert dominance but he is unfortunately much bigger than you and so all it does is make you stumble ungracefully from the recoil.

He quickly grabs your arm to steady you, and you glare up at him before yanking yourself away and then step backwards until your back hits the fridge.

He studies your demeanor for a second before taking a deep inhale, and then lets it all go in a heaving sigh. “What do I have to do to get you to lighten up a bit?” he asks.

“You really want to know?” you sneer at him.

“Yes,” he says with a slight hint of frustration in his tone.

You cross your arms. “Pay for the fucking fence.”

He blinks at you, confusion replacing whatever frustration was previously decorating his tone. “What?”

“The fence,” you reiterate with a step forwards towards him, “the one I built six months ago. The one where you laughed in my face when I told you to help pay for it.”

He leans forward. “Yeah. Because I never wanted that fence built. Like I said, it fucked up the roots on my avocado tree. You should’ve asked me before building it. In fact, it’s illegal to build a fence without joint consent of both neighboring property owne–”

“Oh my god, okay, see? This is why I can’t stand you,” you snarl at him and make another move to get past him but he easily steps in front of you to keep you from going anywhere.

With a sigh, he relents. “Fine, I’ll pay for the fence.”

You try to keep the twitching muscles of your face still as you resolutely stare up at him, pressing your lips into a thin line. Through a strained tone, you say, “No. I don’t want you to pay for it anymore.”

He lifts a brow, utterly bewildered at this point. “Huh?”

“Now it just feels like pity. And I don’t want your pity money.”

“Two seconds ago, you did.”

“Yeah, well, whatever. That was two seconds ago.”

“So…let me get this straight, you don’t want me to pitch in?”

“No. I want you to have wanted to pitch in SIX MONTHS AGO.”

“Okay but what the fuck am I supposed to do about that now?”

“NOTHING!!!” you finally snap at him, the shrill to your voice startling him slightly to where you see his shoulders jump, and his eyes are now rounded blue as he looks at you. “There’s nothing you can do about it, there’s nothing you can do to get me to ‘lighten up’ or ‘act softer’ or whatever the fuck kind of damage control you aim to achieve with me due to your pestering incessant need to be liked by every fucking person you come across. So just deal with the fact that I hate you and let me do it in peace.”

He’s silent for what feels like a long time as he blinks at you, his bottom lip pushing up slightly in a way that suggests he’s almost impressed by your little outburst, then he takes a step forward, and in that one large stride, he’s closed any distance between the two of you. Your back is up against the frigid steel of the fridge, your heels tucked under the warm rubber at the foot of it, and you’re looking up at Gojo as he towers over you, his hands still annoyingly and relaxedly shoved into his pockets.

“Do you think it’s gonna be a problem that I think you’re kinda hot when you’re mad?” he asks you.

A small puff of air leaves your lips, like you just can’t believe the audacity, but also having him this close to you suddenly made it a little harder to breathe. “C–...Can you just be fucking serious for one second?”

His head dips down, the fringe of his hair tickling your forehead, tip of his nose slightly brushing against yours, but his gaze never falls to your lips. “You think I’m not being stupid fuckin’ serious when I say that you’re hot?”

“S–” your breath hitches in your throat, and his gaze finally falls to the lick you pass over your lips, “Satoru–”

Like God himself answered to your (cognitively dissonant) prayers, the bell rings, and Gojo leans himself away from you, straightening his spine so he can glance over his shoulder towards the door, a slight look of irritation on his face through the furrow of his brow.

You blink up at him. “A–...Are you expecting someone?”

He rubs the back of his neck. ���No. Don’t think so.” He sighs before shuffling around the kitchen island and across the dining hall towards the entryway of the house, and you peer at the sight from across the hall.

When he opens the door, you see Sana standing outside, dressed in mom jeans and a t-shirt with her black Coach purse slung around her shoulder, arms crossed, and you barely register the fact that she looks pissed.

“Sana?” Gojo says, “what’s up.”

She entirely ignores him when she catches sight of you, pushing right past him and into the family room that you were currently finding solace in.

“You,” she points at you, storming right up to your personal space, “what the hell did you say to Juno when you were babysitting her?!”

“H-Huh??” you squeak out, taking a step backwards. “What are you talking about?”

“You told her to fight kids at school?!” she snarls at you, and your eyes widen.

“What?” you say, your face twisting with confusion, “I–...I never said that. I just said that she should stand up for herself if she needs to.”

Sana inhales deeply with rage, leaning back and jutting her hip out as she crosses her arms again. “Yeah, well, I had to pick her up early from school today because the principal called and told me she shoved a little girl on the playground during recess, and now she’s facing suspension.”

Gojo approaches suddenly from your periphery, standing in front of you as he faces Sana. You stand on your tiptoes to peer at her over his shoulder. “What? Why would Juno do something like that?

You hear Sana start to tap her foot impatiently against the hardwood floor, and then she turns her head away from Gojo as a slight hmph! noise leaves her throat. “The why is irrelevant.”

You poke your head out from behind Gojo and glare at her, but then Gojo turns around suddenly to look at you.

“y/n,” he says, “what’s going on?”

“I–” you start, glancing at Sana again who now has a solemn look on her face with pursed lips. You glance back at Gojo, who’s looking at you with confusion and anticipation. A heat spreads down your neck from the attention of the both of them on you, and you’re not sure what the smart thing to say is, so you figure you’ll just tell the truth as it is. “...I just didn’t want her getting bullied and thinking she can’t stick up for herself.”

At that, you see Gojo’s shoulders stiffen. “Bullied?” he repeats after you, then quickly turns towards Sana, “what does she mean, bullied? Juno’s getting bullied at school?”

Sana faces him full-on, raising a stern pointed finger between the two of them “No. Satoru. Stop. You always do this. This has nothing to do with you, so don’t even start. It’s not a big deal, let’s not make it one.”

“The fuck do you mean it’s not a big deal? She’s getting bullied at school, and you want her to just suck it up?” he asks, venom dripping from his tone. 

“It’s for her benefit!” Sana exclaims. “Jun and I have spent months trying to get her into this school! We don’t want her getting kicked out.”

“Y’know, I’m–” you stutter, “I’m gonna–...I’m just gonna go upstairs,” you say, “this seems like a family matter. I think you guys should probably just settle this on your ow–”

“No,” Gojo says, pointing to the couch that you were standing in front of, “sit down.”

You sit.

Gojo turns to face Sana again, and although you can’t see his face, you imagine he’s pissed off from the way Sana’s shoulders drop slightly and her sharp expression is cut into a more sheepish one.

“Who cares if Juno is suspended for sticking up for herself? It’s the teachers’ fault for not making sure she’s safe,” he says.

“Shoving other kids is not the solution.”

“Well if you fuck around, then you find out. Kids are too soft these days.”

“This is not the 90s, Satoru.”

You watch the back and forth between the two of them for the better part of an entire minute, feeling uneasy in the hostile environment of the room, but there’s a sense of underlying familiarity between the two, one that is recognizable amongst family. And you feel rather foreign, but then remember that, technically speaking, now that you’re married to Gojo, this is your family too.

Amongst the arguing of the adults, none of you noticed that Juno had gotten out of the car in the driveway and was now standing in the doorframe of the front entrance. She looks scared and guilty, fidgeting with her fingers in front of her, and you notice her scrapes and bruises that you tended to last week were now mostly healed. 

Gojo catches sight of her, and you see his shoulders relax. “Juno, c’mere.”

With the permission, she instantly runs towards him and into his arms from where he was crouched down to the floor in order to welcome her, and then she starts sobbing.

“I’m–hic,” she cries, “I’m so–hic–I’m so sowwyyy Uncle Toru…I’m–hic–I’m sorry mommyyyy.” 

You see Sana sigh and she makes a move to brush Juno’s tear-dampened hair out of her face when Gojo pulls her away from his shoulder by a delicate hold of her bony little shoulders.

“Juno. Listen. If people are being mean to you, then you do exactly as your auntie y/n said. You stand up for yourself. And if that doesn’t work, then you cuss at them and threaten to shove their faces into the dirt until they run away with their tails between their legs. Do you understand me?” Gojo tells her.

Sana gives you a pointed look.

“Oh, I–” you put your hands up in front of you, “I didn’t say any of that last part.”

“Do you understand me?” Gojo repeats again, and Juno nods her head slowly before she falls back into him and soaks his shirt with tears. “I’m soowwwwwyyyyyy.”

Gojo pats her back a few times to comfort her, and your heart breaks for the little girl. It’s bad enough to be bullied at school, but then to be reprimanded by your mother the one time you stand up for yourself…you can imagine how emotionally exhausting that would be for a five-year-old. 

Juno sniffles, rubbing her snot all over the cotton of Gojo’s shirt, and then pulls her face away to rub at her eye with a weakly closed fist. “I–hic–I just…I just wanted him to feel–hic–the same hurt.”

“Huh? Who?” Gojo asks.

“The boy,” Juno says, “the one that shoved me today.”

“It was a boy?!?!?!” Gojo yells. “Alright. That’s it. I’m grabbing my bat.”

“Satoru.” Sana deadpans.

Sana and Gojo continue to bicker about the ethics of threatening five-year-old boys with baseball bats, going back and forth about how Gojo wasn’t actually going to do anything but just wanted to instill fear (he’s lying), while Sana isn’t exactly sold on a single pacifist thing that he says, and you sigh, because you realize you’ve become invested in one of, what you feel like will become many, of their family quarrels.

Juno sneaks around Gojo’s legs and comes up to you while the arguing is taking place in the background, and she gently taps your knee as you’re seated on the couch. “Auntie y/n,” she whispers.

You rub an eye crustie from her face and then hold her hand in yours. “Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“Mm? For what?”

She smiles at you, her cheeks pink and flush from crying but rounded now in glee. “My mommy and daddy spoke a lot today at home for first time in long time because of me. Because I listen’ded to you. Thank you.”

Your eyes narrow. “What do you mean by that, sweetheart?”

Why wouldn’t Sana and Jun be on normal talking terms? What does Juno mean that it’s been a long time? What exactly was going on at home?

“Juno,” Sana’s voice interrupts your thoughts, her arms crossed across her chest, “c’mon. Let’s go.” She points a stern finger at Gojo. “Seriously. I mean it. No baseball bats or rodent traps involved. I’ll talk to the teachers and sort something out.” She glances at you, that strict look on her face now dissolving into one of pure exhaustion. One you can imagine only a mother can face. “See you later at dinner, you two.”

Juno runs up to her mom and grabs onto her outreached hand, and you see Gojo ruffle her hair as she walks past him, her giggles ringing in the air, and then he sees them out the door. 

The air is awkward, at least to you, the second he closes the door, and when he turns around to face you, your body stiffens up.

He leans back onto the front door, crossing his arms over his chest. “Thanks,” he says, “for telling Juno to stick up for herself.”

You blink at him. “Well. I don’t feel too great about it at the moment, to be honest.”

He sighs. “I just think that Jun and Sana are raising her to be…kinda meek. I wish they’d teach her to be more confident and take up space.”

“Mhm,” you nod. Because you agree. Little girls need to learn how to be that way at a young age, because the world is seldom very kind to them.

“Well, what you said to her is what I would’ve said to her anyways,” he says.

You roll your eyes, standing up from the couch and heading back into the kitchen to presume your work on your peach cobbler. “I never told her to shove kids’ faces into the dirt. But, uh, sure, I guess so.”

You see Gojo enter the kitchen too in your periphery, but you don’t give him any glance or look or attention. From what you can see as you stir around your macerated peaches in a Pyrex bowl, he’s leaning against the island counter about three feet away from you, his hands shoved in his pockets, and he’s watching you. A slight warmth radiates in your cheeks, but you attempt to ignore the nerves by being hypnotized by the pink syrup that pools at the bottom of the bowl.

My mommy and daddy spoke a lot today at home for first time in long time because of me. Because I listen’ded to you. Thank you.

An unsettling feeling takes over your senses. It could be the past few years you’ve spent walking on eggshells around your mother, or the way you’ve become so keen to her energy as a way of staying on top of any shift in her symptoms, any single sign of disease progression, any clue that she wasn’t getting better. Any clue that she wasn’t doing okay. And you feel a sense of dread, because that skill, you realize, has now made you aware of similar circumstances in the people around you.

Not to mention, you are a child of divorce. You know what that fear feels like.

You just want to know if Juno feels safe at home.

“Hey, um…” you start, turning slightly to finally face Gojo, your eyes hesitantly flickering up to meet his gaze, “when was the last time you saw your brother-in-law? And with Sana?”

He raises a brow at you. “I just saw them last weekend for one of Juno’s dance recitals.”

“Ah…I see,” you say. You purse your lips together. 

Right. Kids say things all the time. They believe in Santa Claus and think that blueberry pancakes are called blubbery pancakes. And they sometimes read too into things, and they sometimes read too little. Surely, things must be okay. Maybe Sana and Jun had had a little argument with some stubbornly thawing cold shoulders, a demeanor that was noticed by their child, and now things have resumed to normal. That was normal. Part of every family. “That’s good to know…” 

You turn away from Gojo to stare back down into the bowl of macerated peaches again. With a furrowed brow, you close your eyes tightly to try to shake the chilly feeling in your bones, and you feel better when you open them again. The slightly numb sensation in your hand dissipates and you have enough dexterity to mix the peaches around in the bowl.

“I wonder what news they want to share with us over dinner,” you say, to quell the awkward silence.

“Hm?” Gojo hums, and you see him turn around face the counter now, hovering over the bowl of raw crumble topping you had mixed together, prodding at it with the wooden spoon. “Oh, they’re moving.”

Your head snaps to look at him. “W-What?”

“Yeah,” he nonchalantly affirms, scooping up a spoonful of the crumble. “They wanted to up-size, and move a little closer to the school that Juno’s at. I found them a nice place about an hour from here on the outskirts of the city. They just signed the papers a couple weeks ago.” And then he shoves the spoon into his mouth.

“Oh…wow,” you say. “Okay…”

“Damn,” Gojo says with surprise laced in his tone, "this is really good.” He’s staring into the bowl in awe and then scoops up some more crumble with a spoon.

You blink at him, irritated that he’s eating all your ingredients without even asking, and before you’ve even finished your dessert. It’s like he was born to piss you off.

You walk up to him and yank the bowl away, “Gimme that.” Then you pull it into the divot of your waist possessively and glare at him. 

He sighs, and then says something out loud that you’re sure he meant to keep in his head:

“I’ll get used to it.”

.

.

.

[end of chapter 5]

a/n. it feels so strange to post such a short chapter bahaha hopefully the ending isn't too abrupt. but hope you enjoyed! i'm so sorry ab the slow burn in this series aaa but i can try to assure you that it'll all be worth it hopefully lol i'm really excited for what i have planned for this series!! alsooo sorry if there are errors or anything, i'm trying to spend less time editing since it really stalls me n leads to writer's block lol. hope to see you in the next one :) much love! - ellie

➸ take me to chapter six!

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[vivwritesfics]

Drive Me Crazy

Chapter Seven

None of you are used to pack dynamics. Unlike then, it made you near feral. There's nothing more they want than to build you back up.

(btw they're werewolves)

Lestappen X Reader

Series Masterlist

"I'm sorry, Beastie," your handler whispered as she brushed through your hair. "But you understand why I did it, right? Why I pulled you out of there?"

You swallowed behind your muzzle and nodded your head. But no, you didn't understand it. You were good, you were safe. You weren't going to hurt them. For once, you felt in control.

She pet your head and stood up. "Get into bed now, Beastie. You've got a big day tomorrow." She pulled off your muzzle and shock collar, leaving you to climb into the hotel room bed.

You sat there, beneath the sheets. Music played softly, piano music. It had your head feeling quiet and peaceful. Not thinking too much and what you were thinking about didn't have you writhing with anxiety.

But you weren't ready to sleep, not yet. You gripped the sheets and stared at the ceiling. You were thinking about the qualifying, but not stressing about it. A happy little rumble started in your chest.

You didn't know what was happening outside of your room. You didn't know that Max Verstappen had knocked on your hotel room door. You didn't hear it, too wrapped up in Charles's piano music.

He had seen you, really seen you, touched you too. You touched your own cheek, nowhere near as comforting as when he had touched you. A little squeal left your lips and you kicked your legs, pushing away the blankets. Maybe he would play for you, if you asked him.

Who were you kidding? You could never ask him.

Your handler opened the door. She sucked in a breath as she looked at the man in the doorway. "Mister Verstappen," she said, immediately assuming the worst.

You had done something and he was mad about it. Maybe you had bitten or scratched him or Charles. He was mad about something, that was clear.

"Can I come in?" Max asked, holding back a growl. He breathed in. Human, she was entirely human.

Your handler stepped to the side. "Of course," she said and allowed him into your hotel room.

Max walled in. He searched around for any sign of you, but there was nothing. Nothing to indicate that the hotel room was yours, that you were the one racing this weekend.

She welcomed Max to sit with her, offered her something to drink. He shook his head, but she made herself a cup of tea and came to sit opposite him. "What can I help you with, mister Verstappen?" She asked, wrapping her fingers around her mug.

Max drummed his fingers against the table. "I want to know why," he began, still searching for any sign of you. "Why do you treat her the way you do?"

Your handler released a sigh. "It's not that I want to treat her this way," she confessed, eyes on her mug. "The way they raised her in this awful place left her feral and terrified. I do what I have to in order to keep her safe and everyone around her safe."

"But you call her Beastie," he challenged.

She nodded her head. "Yes," she said, her grip on her mug growing tighter. "When I met her, that was all she would respond to. She has grown so much since then, you wouldn't believe."

Max took a moment to look around. He spied the door with the lock on it. A plastic lock, something parents get to stop their young children opening things they weren't supposed to. Simple, yet effective. "Why do you keep her shut away at night?"

She let out a laugh and raised the mug to her lips. "Trust me, she could get through that thing in less than a second if she wanted to," she said and lowered the mug to the table.

Max braced himself for his next question, one he was sure he didn't want the answer to. "Why doesn't she talk?" He asked, his fingers no longer drumming against the table.

Your handler sucked in a breath. "Did you know she hasn't spoken a word to me? All I have are theories and each theory is more terrible than the last. I don't want to know what they did to my little Beastie, she didn't deserve whatever it was."

Max swallowed a lump. "Do you know that she spoke to me today?" He asked. Breathing in, a sour smell burnt his nostrils. It drew his attention back to your door.

Your handlers face lit up. "She spoke to you?" She asked, unable to hide her surprise. "What did she say?"

"Birdy," Max said, smiling slightly. "She told me she wanted to be called Birdy." Birdy. Birdy. Birdy. He could have repeated your name forever.

"Birdy," your handler whispered to herself. She gave a small smile and sipped her tea.

Something was wrong, Max could feel it immediately. He stood so quickly that his chair fell away from him. "Birdy," he called as he ran over to the door and pried the lock off.

"Wait, Mister Verstappen!" Your handler called, but he ignored it and threw the door open.

There you sat. No, not you, a scruffy little wolf. It was you, he could tell immediately, dropping to his knees in front of you. "Hello, Birdy girl," he whispered.

You whimpered, ducking your head and looking up at him with wide eyes, a sign of submission. "Oh Birdy," he whispered and reached out to brush his hand through your fur.

But you got him first, your teeth touching his hand. He released a gasp but instantly relaxed. You weren't biting him, just holding his hand in your mouth. "You're okay," he whispered.

No, you weren't okay. Another whimper left your lips and you released your hold of his hand, backing away from him, away from your handler. She was going to punish you, you knew.

"Come on, Birdy," he whispered. "Talk to me."

But you couldn't. You buried your head beneath your blanket, hiding yourself.

Max finally noted the music playing in the room. Charles's music, he realised. You were listening to Charles's music.

He sat on the end of the bed and did the only thing he could think of. "Do you know that Charles and I are really good friends?" He asked and watched as your tail moved. "Actually, Charles might be my favourite person ever. He really likes you, Birdy."

You sat up, blanket falling off your head. "Oh yeah, he thinks you're wonderful, and I'm starting to see why. He's gonna love seeing your wolf one day, Birdy. But he needs you for the race tomorrow. The human you."

You didn't change immediately, but he didn't expect you to. You sat by him, listening to him talk about Charles. Eventually, you fell asleep, lulled by his voice. Your body changed and he pulled a blanket over you. "Good, Birdy Girl," he whispered and walked away.

A/n: i would love to know what you guys think of the Handler now

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[ghouldtime]

*slides into the DMS*

S O. What does social anxiety for König look like through your fantastic characterization then? 👀

(Love your Alone operator series btw. Got me on the edge of my seat with each chapter!!)

(Thank you!! 💚💚💚 I'm so glad you're enjoying :D you all have been so so sweet with it and Im over the MOON so many people have liked it)

To answer this question I'm going to have to be a biiig yapper and explain why I think of him the way I do

Going to say this to start, but I'm going with the true fact that König is indeed diagnosed with social anxiety - anything else I'm saying is based off of my personal interpretation of how he acts in game as a disclaimer

I'm also going to state that personally, the König I write is in his lower to mid 40's. Sorry not sorry, I don't see him as a young dude. Especially not when it's pretty much agreed upon that he's a colonel. So he's had a SIGNIFICANT amount of life experience, and a significant amount of time to work on himself and have introspection.

To me, it makes the most sense that he was diagnosed with social anxiety earlier on in his childhood since it was significantly more obvious when he was younger. Something that severe wasn't unnoticed by those around him because some of them did care about him. It's also stated he's suffered from severe social anxiety throughout his life so that's how I took it.

I personally go with he grew up in a more rural town in his homeland of Austria, which meant there weren't exactly others around during the first few years. "Go play with the neighbors kids" didn't really work when there weren't neighbors around. It was mainly him and his parents and an occasional relative over.

What could be brushed off as initial shyness clearly couldn't be anymore when he finally was enrolled in school.

Even on the first day when it's "introduce yourself to everyone", he fucked that up so monumentally it'll be engraved forever in his hall of shameful memories that he thinks about late at night. School was an utter nightmare, quite frankly, from moment one. The whole situation was too much, too stressful, and too different from the life he had at home. He flat out refused to get up and present in front of the class and wouldn't talk in group projects just for the fear of embarrassing himself. At that time, he was hitting all the indicators for social anxiety like they're the targets he shoots at today.

He missed out on a lot of interaction with other kids initially because of how awkward he was - and having any form of anxiety never helps in social situations. Talking to others wasn't something that came naturally and his own panic amplified it tenfold. Most times, he'd either pretend he didn't hear them, avoid them, or stray as far to the edge of the group as possible to avoid it. Unfortunately this made him an easy target because kids are RUTHLESS and turned him into even more outcast as well which only worsened it.

School always sucked for him due to that, despite the fact that he was a smart kid. No amount of smarts could save you from social persecution when you had nearly no social skills to boot. [ side note but I'm dying on the hill that he's incredibly intelligent and has a bachelors degree (at the very least)].

His parents kept him in therapy to help him manage because without it, he'd be back at square one refusing to go to school and faking a cold just to get out of it. And of course, therapy is a very important tool when it comes to healing, coping, and managing severe mental disorders. The whole reason why he doesn't show such bad anxiety anymore is because he kept the skills he learned and applies them so much that it becomes his second nature.

He's had at least 35 years of this, he's good enough to mask and to keep up his facade.

Another part of why he doesn't show it nearly as much is because he joined the military and was thrown through the wringer with it. Being bullied for so long was a major motivator for joining in the first place, as he needed something to get away from the peers who tormented him so and he needed a new life where he wasn't known as target #1. But he ALSO wanted to gain actual confidence and more certainty in himself.

Joining the military really means you're not left with such things as many choices when it comes to anxiety in social situations. You're forced into quarters with others, have to work side-by-side, do nearly everything together, so on and so forth. He knew that going in but at that point for him it was like extreme exposure therapy, the last step he needed to really put everything he learned in therapy to work.

That doesn't mean he didn't suffer or loved it. No, it was terrible, intense, and nerve-wracking. But he wouldn't have done it otherwise if he didn't want that. Being in the military didn't give him the leeway to avoid what made him anxious, it taught him to face it head on and fight.

Now that he's up there in age and has considerable more experience (and leeway with having a higher rank), the ways he expresses it [look at me finally answering the question] are more subtle.

On the field, you're likely not going to notice it. Because that's him turning the little auto pilot switch in his mind to on when he has a job. The job is his focus and everything has been so engrained in his mind that it's muscle memory. He's, quite frankly, focused on not dying and getting any job done over himself. The joking you often hear him do and taunting alike is part of how he's expressing the confidence he feels when he's in his element, when he KNOWS what he is doing.

If you look closely or approach him off the field, however, it's another story. He usually tenses or straightens himself out when people approach and will hold that until they leave (unless they're someone who he truly knows). Many assume that's a taught habit of the military, but that's only half-true. He did that before then.

Unlike when he's working, he doesn't have a guide or things he knows he has to do in a specific order to best ensure survival - no matter how much talking to other people feels like the heat of the battle, you can't (legally) solve it with a gun or throw a frag and book it out of there. There's no true guide to social interactions and that stresses him out. There's no manual, no field guide, no ten step card on how to successfully navigate them.

He knows things that are normal to say, he knows sometimes what he should say - it's just a matter of finding the phrasing and how to say them. Yet it seems like whenever someone doesn't follow his pre-programmed line of thought when it comes to their talking, his mind can shut down and go blank as he stares, trying to figure out where to go or what to say (spoiler: it usually doesn't end well).

He's usually awkward to talk to because he's running over everything in his head as he tries to think of what best to say to avoid further interactions or ones that could be more targeting to him. And, as mentioned, he lacks the average set of social skills that plenty learn in childhood because he didn't have that proper socialization. He's also still not the best at talking itself and can be blunt and to-the-point, which also doesn't usually go down well.

Not to mention, he's bad at small talk and has a terrible, sarcastic sense of humor that many can't read and it quickly turns things uncomfortable very fast because everyone takes him seriously. It never helps he usually doesn't explain himself all too well, usually leaving it as is as he secretly wishes he didn't talk at all when mortification sets in. Hurrying away with an excuse of some paperwork or something else to busy himself is his go-to after those.

When possible, he'll avoid small-talk and greatly prefers gestures instead. Someone who can appreciate his greater need for silence and a lack of talking is someone who he will greatly appreciate in turn. He's a firm believer that not all silences are uncomfortable and sometimes, it IS best not to say anything at all.

Due to his childhood too, he's not really fond of being around many people and will do his best to avoid it. Unless he has to grin and bare it, he won't. He finds his mind calmest when he can just be himself without having to worry about saying the right things to appease others or to be friendly. That way he can focus on what he wants, think how he wants, and feels how he wants without second guessing himself or having to worry about existing.

He's going to avoid most public settings when possible. Though he can now suitably manage his anxiety, they're something he passes up on. Grocery store trips are something he does maybe once a week or two, if that - stock piling so he has to go to the store less is his usual strategy. Anything he can do himself, he WILL do himself, if he doesn't have a trusted person who can do it better or can help.

Notably, he also doesn't have many friends. He's like talking to a brick wall and unless you're considerably persistent and understanding of his need for space, you won't get far. A lot of people don't have the time nor patience for it, but if you do get close to him, he does come out of his shell. He appreciates anyone who cares enough to actually get close to him and get to know him despite how awkward he can be, and will be loyal to the end because of that.

Another side effect is that he doesn't sleep well. Between the massive amounts of trauma from his job and the trauma from his childhood, he doesn't sleep well as is. But the social anxiety aspect comes into play because many nights, his mind is rerunning all the interactions he's had as he chronically overthinks them. He always wonders what he could've done, how he could've improved, and what they're thinking of him (even if they're someone he may never run into again). Its very hard for him to shut his mind off and doing such usually requires him drowning everything else and making himself not think about that, or anything, any more.

[Another side note: He's an avid reader. Reading gives him new things to think about and can help put him to sleep, especially before bed. It's a good way for him to stop thinking about whatever was nagging him and shifts his mind into thinking about other things he enjoys instead)

Basically, IN SHORT this isn't my full in-depth detailed characterization of exactly who I think he is - the reason he's not presenting it as an anxious ball of pure energy who is so uwu shy and soft is because he is incredibly well-managed with his severe social anxiety at his age and that's uh, just not him. Social anxiety doesn't mean he's a blubbering mess or will cry at the slightest inconvenience and reducing him to that or treating anyone with social anxiety like they're a child because of it does not help at alllll.

He's had extensive therapy for this, he's got his methods, he can mask very well. He's a WHOLE GROWN MAN who is responsible for not only his actions but how he manages his emotions and he knows it. But if you know him and know what to look for, you'll be able to pick it up.

(Also the sheer amount of scenarios I've seen where people think he just would... cry if you took his mask off??? Him???? HIM???? König, "I can make you talk, where are they?" the skilled PMC operator? That one? That guy? Yeah no, anyone dumb enough to do that better have signed their will prior or hopefully has an intensive love for scrubbing all the floors with a single old toothbrush. He won't tolerate people harassing or hustling him or pressing on his nerves. Sure, it reminds him of his childhood bullies, but quite frankly that behavior as grown adults trying that is RIDICULOUS, it pisses him off and immediately lowers his opinion on them.)

To whoever made it this far, I hope this made sense, I took melatonin before I got the ask so I'm in another realm right now LMAO. König is one of my favorites and was the first character I realllly really loved and I just hate seeing him done so dirty. Especially as someone with severe social anxiety myself, it irritates me when it's portrayed just so... wrong and quite frankly, in a lazy, offensive manner lacking any nuance especially in relation to the character who has it. Like just making him stutter and cry isn't all social anxiety is and there's SO much depth and things to work with despite the... actual substance as far as his bio goes

[happily-wretched]

Oh my god. Part 2 of deprived, please

UGHHH

I’m so sorry I haven’t been posting at all lately, college has been coming in CLUTCH

Anyway, here’s part 2 of deprived cuz some random person asked for it. It’s pretty short because I wasn’t expecting to add anything to it, so I added some pretty random elements to it. Btw, I made this while tired asf so sorry if it’s buns 😭:

GUuuggglleee… The sound of my stomach gurgling startled me out of my reverie. I blinked and glanced around the dimly lit office, realizing with a jolt of panic that I was alone. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting long shadows across the cubicles. My heart began to race as I tried the door, only to find it firmly locked. 

"Oh no, no, no," I muttered, pulling at the handle futilely. Some kind soul had apparently locked up already, leaving me trapped inside. I checked my phone - 10:30 PM. Way past my usual departure time. Fumbling, I called the police. 

"Hello, emergency services. What's your emergency?" a calm voice asked.

"Hi, I'm accidentally locked in my office. I was working late and got locked in, can you please send someone to help let me out?" I explained, trying to keep the rising anxiety out of my voice. My stomach chose that moment to emit a deep, ominous growl. RRRGGGRRRLLLEE… The sound echoed in the empty building, much louder than I expected. 

The dispatcher assured me someone would be by shortly and hung up. I slumped into my chair with a sigh, listening to the unnerving silence broken only by my stomach's insistent gurgling. It seemed to take forever for the police to arrive. I rubbed my tummy soothingly, feeling it vibrate against my palm as it grumbled its discontent. 

ggRRrRrGGggrr

Finally, red and blue lights flashed through the windows. I hurried over, waving frantically until the officer spotted me. He had me step outside as he let himself in with a master key. I explained what happened, distracted by how attractive he was. Tall, dark hair, kind brown eyes. I felt my cheeks flush as my stomach let out a particularly loud growl.

GGRRROOOORRRRLLLll..

"Sorry, I'm pretty hungry," I said lamely, rubbing my midsection. He just smiled politely.

"I can give you a ride to grab a bite, if you'd like," he offered. I shook my head, not trusting my voice. While my stomach was screaming for food, I couldn't afford a meal out. He gave me a ride home instead. 

The jostling of the car made my stomach protest with every bump and turn. "Ooh, you really are hungry," he remarked with a chuckle. I just nodded, mortified, as gurgle after gurgle emanated from my midsection. He asked again if I wanted to eat, but I declined, not wanting to impose. 

I thanked him as he dropped me off, hurrying inside. I collapsed onto my couch, exhausted. My stomach was never quiet, groaning its discontent loudly. I sighed and headed to the kitchen to fill up with water. It would have to do for now.

I fell into bed, grateful to have the next day off. My stomach let out a particularly plaintive growl as I drifted off. Grrrggrrr… But I woke to its incessant rumbling. I couldn't ignore it anymore. 

Curiously, I began to prod at my tummy, squeezing my abs and feeling the firmness of my abdominal wall. It elicited all sorts of growls and gurgles, I couldn’t help but be fascinated. It seemed I could make it louder if I pushed in hard. Sloshing noises joined the growls as the water mixed with air and stomach acid.

GUURGGUUuuulleebbubRrrll

I sucked in deeply, and my entire abdomen concaved. When I released, it was like a freight train roaring through. RROOOORRHRGGGLLEEE… "Whoa," I laughed, poking my hollow belly. It just continued to bellow its emptiness.

GRROOGGGRRRGGLL…

I couldn't help it then. I began to play with my rumbly stomach, kneading it like dough. I had to know what other sounds I could get out of it. I pressed deep into my belly button. GGGRRRROAAAOGGGRRRGLLEE!! "Holy crap!" 

Tugging it in and out made a wondrous vibration, rumbling intensely. I jostled it from side to side, back and forth, messing with it. The gurgles were epic, it felt like it was rocking the room with my hunger. I was laughing hard now, enthralled by the “instrument” I'd discovered.

I exaggeratedly poked a finger in. GGROROOROGGRRRRrrr! Down I went to tickle my belly, fingers wiggling over it, raking my nails lightly over the skin. It felt so alive and wild beneath my touch. 

This was so new. My tummy always rumbled, but never like this. I'd never had a chance to really explore. I squeezed a whole new level of volume and ferocity out of it, deep and loud.

I rolled onto my back, leaning my head back to stare at the ceiling. My stomach gurgled in agreement, rumbling fiercely for a few moments before settling down. rrrrRRRRRRROOOAAHGGGRRLLLLRRRRRRrrrrrr…. "Mmm, you're so loud," I murmured, rubbing it in circles. "Poor thing, I'll feed you tomorrow. Something good, I promise."

I drifted off to sleep, smiling as my rumbly tummy joined me on the dreamless journey to morning and payday. A meal was coming. But I knew now - I'd never forget the fun I could have when I was hungry.

[miradelletarot]

Sad brain hours are stupid

Personal post alert. Just me kinda mumbling my random sad brain thoughts into the void, and hope something make sense (or at least helps me get this shit out of my head idk).

*note: this is all over the fucking place so...sorry.* My confidence is pretty low lately. I mean, it always has been honestly. I was raised to have a low self-esteem (just like my mother, who also had self-esteem issues, and projected a lot of her shit onto me). So, I have never ever really been confident. In my marriage, I can't recall a time when my husband truly made me feel sexy/desirable (unless he wanted something from me...you know what I'm talking about). Even mentally and emotionally, I'm really not that smart. I'm not witty, or quick, or brilliant in any way, and my anxiety and depression and ADHD make shit hard enough to cope with as it is. I struggled in school. Mostly an A & B student, but I had to bust my ass for those grades. Not to mention my horrible memory...I'm lucky I know basic grade school shit. I have no illusions that there is anything remotely spectacular about me. I think that's why I love supporting and helping others. Especially with tarot. It's my way of trying to help lift people up, and make them feel good about themselves, and their prospects because *someone* needs to be in your corner (general "you"). It's just easier to give my love to others, because I'd rather use my energy to celebrate the people I care about. Lately, I am really just feeling so down about my body. More than I have in a while. I think I've ignored it for so long because I was married. He stopped putting in effort and so did I. I had no one to impress anymore. But, despite him completely letting himself go (he's well over 400lbs now, and does NOT take care of himself in the slightest,) he said he was no longer attracted to me. (this will make sense in a moment...promise).

in 2018, I had a weird ass health scare that landed me in the hospital for a week, and the nurse said I nearly died of sepsis. Her words were (and I'll never fucking forget it...) "if you had waited even until tonight to come to the ER, there's a good chance you wouldn't have made it." Drs still dunno what the fuck happened to me. Ever since that happened, my thyroid went stupid (thanks again, MOTHER...) and I gained a ton of weight. I have always been on the heavier side (180lbs when I got married 16 yrs ago. I'm 5 ft tall for context). Now, I'm 243 lbs. I was 265, but I lost a lot of that stress weight after I left my husband. So, that's certainly something.

But...I just don't see the improvement. i don't feel any better. I have such a horrible relationship with exercise, and i am working so fucking much I don't even want to even though I know I should. I hate wearing makeup b/c of how it makes my face feel, and in the Florida, soul-sucking heat? I could never. But, I still have breakouts like a fucking teenager going through puberty. and my hair? fuck. i hate it. it's a poofy, frizzy mop. ALSO...fucking hell. I have had a slight lisp since i was a kid. I worked really hard to correct it b/c i was in choir and shit and my music teacher helped me with it, but recently i find that it's a lot more prominent than it used to be, and it sticks out to me SO fucking much, and i feel so insecure about it lately.

It's time's like these when something my ex said to me before i left really sticks in my head (he apologized for saying this btw, but it doesn't make the pain go away). He said "you'll never find anyone as good as me." I really want to believe he's wrong, but sometimes? It feels like he's right. Like I'll never be pretty or thin enough to be desirable to anyone. Too much depression and anxiety. Too weird. Too vulgar. Just...Too much, and oddly not enough at the same time. Even though it's only been 6 months since I left him I am fucking lonely. I won't lie, I miss having a partner (and all that entails). I'm so afraid I'll be alone forever. If I lower my standards, I'll just get some shitty asshole again. Someone just like my ex. I'm too fucking old to date around like I'm in my 20s. I'm pushing 40. I'm either going to find the man of my dreams (the Gale of my heart, a real one lol) or I'll be forever alone.

I'm in hell...and it looks like a pixelated paradise.

[fosliie]

HEYSOASYOUPROBABLYNOTICEDWHOOPS

I saw your Samantha and Maxine stuff and i was like 'hehe lesbians neat' and went through your blog and just. Like. I just wanna list some things I like about your stuff bc AUGH. I love your designs for the AU S&M, AND for your ocs these aliens and unicorns got me HOOKED. Your stories and way of writing whether it be dialogue or plot stuff is so interesting. If you wrote a novel I would have 50 thanks. Your formatting for comics and easy to understand and makes them a super enjoyable read, also the colors and stuff are nice and lovely sjxjwokfle Your style is Round but Awesome in the coolest ever way btw. You have artistic ability that few others do and I can't wait to see what you do next. Overall as a person you seem very interesting as well and your mini comic about anxiety and feelings like that was so relatable like stuff sucks sometimes, wish there was itch cream for feelings 😔 anYWAYS SORRY FOR THE WEIRD TANGENT EXPLODES I just wanted to let you know I basically love your work and you seem delightful!!! Mwah!!!!

AWE!! DUDE!!!!!

That is genuinely so sweet, thank you!! Read this early in the morning and it really made my day. I’m glad to see other people enjoy my stuff, even the non Sam and Max stuff! Always been nervous posting personal kinda stuff or ideas (side eyes whatever is going on with my sam and max au) but it makes it so worth it to see others enjoy and connect with it. I’m glad you enjoyed strolling through my jumble of a blog, appreciate it dude :]

[mew-aka-mimichan]

(Not really an ask, i dunno) Heya, ᗰᗴᗯ! I reallly luv your post and mews art and we have a lot in common! for eg: we both like/ admire lottie/canihavepromo and her works, were in a lot of the same fandoms im to lazy to list them tho soz and we have a lot of personality similarities and alot of other stuff too! (that im also to lazy to type! sorry again!) (^_<) I really wana be friends with mew and share my art with mew but my phone got stolen at my stupid Pru (pupil referal unit) so i can't send any pics of my art! but when/if i get my old phone back or a new one i'll send mew a pic of my art (im antisocial too and have social anxiety so i'll understand if you don't respond!) I also followed you on pinterest and love your boards!

(btw i do traditonal art because i suck at regular art!)

u go to those PRU thingyies?? roflmao!!! but ermm yah thx 4 following me on pinterest! tell me ur username there so we can be moots there too! im technicly not supposed 2 be typing this cus my mom took my computer but yolo >:3

we can be friends on tumbolr too and my discord is also mew_aka_mimichan :D 🍀🎀

[maskthesimp]

Okay, so I played Resident Lover

Cass' route. Duh.

[MASSIVE SPOILERS AHEAD SO MOVE THE FUCK ON!!]

AND I GOT THE BAD ENDING 💀 Or one of them

I assume there's a few bad endings and a few good ones for each route. I got the one where we get blood spilt on us, and she uses me as a sacrifice (or is implied to cuz the game ends when she pins me against a wall after getting that crazy look in her eye and talking about a fourth sacrifice for the ritual)

Here's the thing, though. I'm afraid of upsetting people. So, of course I ignored the fucking shadow and decided to get on with the show instead CUZ I FIGURED IF I INVESTIGATED THE SHADOW, IT'D DELAY THE SHOW AND PISS HER OFF!! BUT NO!!

TIP IF YOU WANNA GET A GOOD ENDING FOR CASS, INVESTIGATE THE DAMN SHADOW BEFORE THE PERFORMANCE!! UGH!! SORRY I THOUGHT OF YOUR FEELINGS, BABE, I DIDN'T REALISE EMPATHY FOR YOUR INTERESRS AND WELLBEING WOULD RESULT IN MY DEATH 🙄

It's fucking fine I reloaded the game and investigated, then told her what I saw and shit turned out fine and she fucked me in her dressing room >_> I'll take it but that music and the art of her going all crazy-eyed saying she was gonna basically kill me is gonna leave some trauma, babes, I'm ngl

Istg I genuinely was unsettled and freaked out over it. The music does a lot for the game, and the composer(s) did a great job at making me piss myself in fear. Made me feel genuine anxiety and fear. Also, because I couldn't do anything about it, it made it so much harder to watch. Feels like Subnautica without the water. Or sea creatures. Or space ship. Or anything except the overwhelming sense of "you fucked up" that I get when I hear the music after getting drenched in blood, or the "approaching ecological dead-zone" message. It's the same vibe that makes me wanna cry from anxiety, and I applaud any game that evokes that reaction from me.

I'll definitely play through the other routes, probably Belas mostly, and I'll try to get some other results from Cass' route. I didn't investigate the 3rd floor because it pissed her off when I did it, so I reloaded it (don't judge, I'm a people pleaser) and chose to wait for her. Idk what other endings can come from her route. I know I can reject her and stuff, but I don't wanna. That's my wife motherfucker.

I'm most interested in Bela and Cass' routes in this. I like Daniela, but she's not as interesting as I kinda hoped she'd be. I like skater girls, but for Dani, she's too chill. I like the switch in making Cass more of a momma's girl and making Bela more argumentative with Alcina. Whereas in RE8, that'd be the opposite with them.

Cass is the rash child not doing what Alcina wants, and Bela has to pick up the slack and suck up to mother (or at least that's the vibe we got from the lore). And Dani is just...Dani. She's chaos incarnate. But I like the switch of having Cass now be the one who decided to follow in her mother's footsteps, whilst Bela is apparently arguing with her so much.

Btw, I'd adore if there was a mutli-romance option. I'd fall head over heels so easy XDD speaking of, is there any way to meet Bela in Cass' route? She never showed in my playthrough outside of a name drop from her sisters. I've seen screenshots of Bela and Cass in Y/Ns dorm together, I'm not sure what route it's from.

Overall, I'd say I had a lot of fun. I liked the stakes, I liked the romance. Some character depictions could've been better, but maybe they would be if I play again and choose Dani's option during a later playthrough. Maybe I just didn't get enough of a look at her character. Will definitely play again :3

[ahomeforheadmates]

This disorder fucking SUCKS sometimes

We just went through three weeks of prolonged trauma [hurricane, got the flu (FOR THE 7TH TIME IN THE SPAN OF ONE YEAR 💞💖) and then another hurricane which this time we had to take care of a rescued squirrel with no help by adults except to try and cuddle this injured wildlife as we desperately tried to find a rescue (we did Milton is safe and happy in professional care) and take care of said adults emotions and moods]

And everyone is fucking gone what the fuck

Geniunely every single alter (minus four- including me) is in hiding right now besides this poor person- someone I don’t know- who has NEVER FRONTED BEFORE has been handling body front for DAYS and they just formed and only met dazai before we all went in hiding involuntarily from the stress

I came back about ten minutes ago, I think because fig came back in this hour and started fronting and can’t handle the anxiety and the poor new person who got shoved into front didn’t even know what was going on and didn’t know anyone but knew something was horribly wrong and had to deal with the anxiety of knowing their not supposed to be alone and not fully knowing what a system was and how it works

Oh my god imagine forming and only getting to meet one alter for like two minutes just enough to learn their name and tell you to hang in there and reeling with the effects of three weeks exposed trauma alone for days WHILE dealing with one of our hardest to work with persecutors who the whole time was trying to get them to depression spiral who also looks btw like a back rooms monster so

I still don’t know who they are, they’re passed Tf out poor guy

I only hope I can stay in front and try to fix this shit I know I’m not the best candidate but

Sorry this is almost incompressible but oh god What happened

-Kerosene 🔥🛢️

@the-tired-meatbag

Atting you to hope to catch you up friend

[corvusblackk]

favorite experience(s) with loki!!

sorry i love hearing abt him 😭😭 i wanna see like the differences between how he interacts w me n other ppl <3

love ur blog btw!! <3

I’m glad you like my blog 🦈

I still don’t have major experiences with Loki, apart from dreams, because of various reasons I will talk about now.

I always have been interested in him as a deity since I started my spiritual journey, he seemed so interesting and to be honest also fun to be around, but I wanted to get him to teach me some things.

Because of my anxiety I’ve became very serious and precautious (is that even a word-) and so scared of change. After some time I decided it was the case to start moving things, just to embrace change and not be afraid of it. And I knew that Loki would be the best to teach me that. So I reached out to him and he replied immediately, I asked for a sign and also got confirmation by a friend that works with him too, he said he was happy to start working with me (ngl i was giggling).

But then, just after that, my mental health declined so my spiritual practice was completely gone and I got detached from my deities. I only had few contact with Lucifer (as I feel like he’s my patron, but I don’t have confirmation yet). I just recently got back into my practice so I still have to experience many things with him, but he appeared a few times in my dreams and helped me with some things.

I still have to really take my practice back, but my motivation isn’t the best, I don’t even know why. I’m actually doing better because of the tons of meds I’m taking, yet my deity work sucks and I even feel ashamed to get back to the deities and say sorry again like I always did when I disappeared. Some of them understand and are completely patient, like Anubis and Hermes, but others like Lucifer and Leviathan are yeah still somewhat patient but they want me to make constant action and yk their is a tough love, but I mean of course its like that lol they’re infernals.

They all give me great advice when I talk to them, they are extremely motivating and they cheer me up, always, they really believe in me and are always there for me.

As some of the people that follow me have notice I started channeling just recently but only with my dr loved ones, so I want to try and channel my deities too. I just am kind of stuck because I feel like their presence would be too much, for example the first time I called upon Anubis I sensed an incredibly humbling and ancient energy (but extremely comforting).

Enough on rambling, I haven’t even replied to your question I’m so sorry 😭 but again I don’t have many experiences with him, I want to know yours though so if you want to tell me let me know!

[faith3231]

// NEW UPDATED PINNED POST FOR 2025 //

Hello people on tumblr!

Just in case if you don’t know me, the name is Faith!

I’m a 21 year old autistic woman who basically struggles with anxiety sometimes and lil bit of depression. BUT I always have a safe space on loving to my fixtations like basically cute but (rarely) scary stuffs for example like Pretty cure and Sonic.Exe.

Overall, I joined this media back in November 10th when people back then used to dislike this social media but thankfully stopped.

I know I’m rarely active on the place now but just in case if you guys still want to know me better, feel free to for this introduction post!

(UPDATED: 1/30/25)

★INTRODUCTION:

Name: Faith

Nicknames: Rapper Faith or Mom of Hog

Current Age: 21

Born: September 8th (9/8/03)

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Bisexual

☆Polyamorous and Demisexual

I live in USA so sadly yeah,,, I’m a American :(

♡Taken (Currently by 2 people)

Autistic

Favorite color: Blue and Pink

Artist and (Beginner) Animator

Fandoms I’m mostly into currently: :0

Sonic the hedgehog

Sonic.Exe

Bocchi the Rock

Pretty Cure

Studio Ghibli

Friday Night Funkin

Godzilla

My Hero Academia

Regretevator

Pressure

And Indigo Park

MAIN PERSONA:

(NOTE! Hog belongs to Jack Gore whenever it comes to me and hog Art! + Lore of their friendship will be worked on later on)

★彡FOLLOW MY OTHER MEDIAS! :

YouTube - LilTilOne3231 (MAIN) / Faith3231 (Alt)

Tiktok - LilTilOne3231

Wattpad - LilTilOne3231

DeviantArt- Faith3231

Twitter (Not calling it X btw) - Faith3231 (Rapper Faith)

Roblox - FaithTheFox3231

NewGrounds - Faith3231

BlueSky - Faith3231

Other Fun Facts!

•I’ve been liking Exe stuffs ever since July of Last Year when I got introduced to Hog and Scorched.

•My first animes I saw was Lucky Star and Ponyo

•I have been interacting with voice actors before in rl (Example: Kellen Goff)

•I mostly interact with newer fans, friends, and people better on my sever so if you wanted to be friends with me on my discord sever, please do if you have the same interest as me!

(Again, social anxiety can suck tbh)

•I’m really big into Nostalgic stuffs. So if you see me ramble about the crap I like, I’m sorry-

•I’m more active on YT, Discord, or Twitter sadly but again, sorry if you see me posting reshares and Art here!

•I really dislike Loud shit sadly. This mostly includes due to my trauma from my parents divorce and fighting. :(

•I’ve been drawing for 12 years by the time I’m making this post.

•Christmas is my favorite holiday ever/srs

•My persona does have other looks plus in the fandoms I am in.

•I rarely drawn my own Original characters so one of them will be listed later on.

•I’m a Yume/Self Shipper lol

(I love Silly Billy and Melanie sm btw!! And yes I’m a sharing for both of them so eeee!)

•And if you have any Gifts or FanArts of me that’s related to Exe, YumeShipping, or anything else, please do mention or ping me to let me know! 🩵

And yeah… THAT IS MOSTLY IT.

Hope you liked this introduction pinned post and feel free to interact with me if you liked!! 🩵

(OLD PIN POST - https://faith3231.tumblr.com/post/700545129587539968/all-art-is-not-mines-and-belongs-to-its#notes )

♡

-Faith

[sparklingpax]

Hellooo tumblrrrr >:3

sorry for the inactivity, but I'm finally on winter break now!! Sharing some of my favorite works from this semester <33

These are mixed from 2 of my studio classes (6-hour classes btw lmfao 🪦✨), Painting & Drawing. Since it's a foundational year, work is primarily traditonal. I can also answer questions ab materials/dimensions/etc if you have any!! :3

Ok incoming unedited vague and yet specific ramble about my feelings and experience 😳

Art school is everything I hoped for...idk if y'all remember cause I've had this acc since sophomore year, but I was conflicted about college even then cause of how people made the experience sound horrible and not worth it. Especially artists. I was nervous applying, I didn't think my work was even vaguely good and yet I got into my top choice school. Further, I found very quickly that this experience is in fact crucial to me personally as well as artistically. It's very challenging but in a way that makes my soul feel like I have purpose. I fucked my sleep schedule SO bad this year (😭) and my diet has gone to shit (purely my own irresposibility, don't freaking do what I did there's always better ways).

The feeling of accomplishment in work I spend full days and nights on, as well as how it feels to be in a space with the kindest and also fellow like-minded artists, is unmatched to anything I've experienced in my life. I've used materials and made progress I long ago swore off never touching because "I could never"

I wasn't happy in high school, despite what people said about how I'd miss it when college starts, how I'd hate college, how everything sucks now blah blah blah. Nope. Maybe they loved the experience, their friend groups, the feeling of not being the only person going down their career path (my school was small, I am the only person who graduated going to art school. It was hell during the application process, being told left and right I'm doing it wrong and I shouldn't bank on being an artist anyway. I learned that year the value of ignoring people fr).

OH NOT HAVING TO TAKE MATH, SCIENCE, ETC......IVE BEEN WAITING SO LONG AGHHHH 😭✨✨ The feeling of anxiety and worthlessness over not understanding or doing well in those subject areas while also knowing it's not important in the bigger picture but still feeling horrible over them....being gone....knowing I can put my whole mind and heart into creating now...sobbbbbb it's amazing

Right now, I'm feeling good about everything, even with the many ups and downs during the semester--ultimately, I'm where I wanna be now, and I'm kinda hype for the next semester 🥰 idk if my opinion counts or if this will reach any people who are in my previous situations, if this is encouraging at all but maybe perhaps it will?? And if it does then I'm glad 🫡

In conclusion, uh. I'm being my usual overdramatic and wordy self, but first semester was slay and I'm so deeply grateful I'm an artist and that I am in my current situation. ART SCHOOL FUN RAAAAA

[the-pea-and-the-sun]

this is another "post that was in the tags of another post but the tags got too long so now its its own post" post

so i saw another post abt saying "thank you" instead of "sorry" and i remembered how i first saw someone giving that advice a long time ago and it made me realize how much ive incorporated it into my speech since and how helpful its been. like ive heard this advice get dunked on a bit since then but it rly is so much better for both parties. like ive heard it helps some people unlearn shame about their own harmless actions but even besides that its made so many conversations so much easier for me. saying 'i appreicate u being patient btw ik i tend to ramble/get excited' or something is sm better than 'sorry i talk sm' cuz the latter might make the person feel obligated to reassure u at best but the former makes the other person feel like they r a good friend for listening to u. and ofc other ppl have said this before but i just kind of wanted to share the ways its been useful for me.

whenever i suddenly realize that ive lost a bit of self awareness and control when rambling thanking the other person for listening/being patient while i get to my point is gen sm more helpful. like even besides the fact that theres no point in apologizing for something ultimately harmless that ive always done and am never gonna be able to stop from happening sometimes it lets u jus kinda keep talking seemlessly too. like if u say sorry an they're nice theyll prob stop and reassure u, which sucks bcz if you were just enthusiastically rambling abt something u probably dont want the conversation to suddenly turn into a conversation about the way you tend to ramble. assuming the other person is willing/would like you to continue and you're not done you probably just wanna stop and be considerate of the other person for listening real quick before continuing, and thats why an thank you allows the conversation to continue much more smoothly than an apology.

an ofc it applies to other situations too if u feel the instinct to offset shame to combat ur social anxiety this gives u an alternative to apologizing, which other people have talked abt but theres a lot of unspoken communication that happens in an apology vs a thank you that most people arent even aware is happening. like i started saying 'thanks for hanging out w me i had fun!' after outings an ppl always seem to respond well and it kind of helps to offset my anxiety abt if a social outing went well. like thinking "what if i committed a major faux pas and everyone knows abt it but me" sucks because there isnt a way to address those feelings directly without basically accusing the other person of secretly being mad at you, but what you can do is acknowledge as far as you're concerned, the social interaction went well (not to mention if the other person is having the same anxieties you are this can be helpful to them to). like well at least they know i had a good time an enjoy/appreciate their company thats all i can do. i did my best to be kind and respectful and if i did something wrong and they aren't telling me i simply cannot account for their feelings. however they felt/feel abt it is out of my hands.

anyway i might edit this post later cuz i gotta go to work i just had to get this out real quick hopefully this is helpful to some ppl :)