#and not have my meal be interrupted by combat

[soulemissary]

this house .

[ay0nha]

When shall we meet again in thunder, lightning, or rain? | S.G. (I)

SUMMARY: You avoided addressing him directly, not quite due to fear but rather apathy. It took coaxing for you to even allow him to stay and now, without thought, you unknowingly beckoned him closer.

PAIRING: Satoru Gojo x Fushiguro!reader (Megumi's aunt/Toji's sister)

WORD COUNT: 2.2K

WARNINGS: Found family vibes atm, slight enemies to lovers, reader and gojo figuring out their dynamic through emotion constipation, angsty convos and feelings, canon-typical things, kid megumi, rushed ending, etc.

A/N: This took longer than I thought, but I want to take my time and really put effort into this one, so I hope you all enjoy. BIG shout out to @benzywenzymeowmeow this wouldn't have happened without your help. Much love. Again, based on/inspired by @stsgooo's post (here!). Let me know if you'd like to be tagged for future parts.

COMMENTS ENCOURAGED. PLEASE.

prologue part ii

The bliss was idyllic.

Your wrist balanced on the windowsill as you lazily tapped the ash of your cigarette. The cool air caressed your arm and gave you goosebumps that reminded you that you were still alive—human. 

Your senses were perked. 

The city outside kept you attentive as your head rested back. The day was long, but hearing the taxis carrying bubbling people made it worth it. You imagined how some were on their way to find warmth in their home while others were dressed for an endless night of laughter.  

You loved how you contrasted the city; your living room was empty and quiet. You could no longer hear Megumi’s shuffling feet above you. The tranquility was still a fresh oddity. The new life created was a semblance of happiness. You traded hyper-vigilant nights for bedtime stories, cooking meals only for the kids for family dinners, and Gojo’s scarcity of communication for peaceful nights like tonight.

The privilege that came with Gojo’s name made your stomach churn. It was simple at first, pushing Gojo into a subconscious level. However, the task became daunting; an ache emerged from so deep within that it took months for you to realize he was responsible. 

You were overdue for an interruption. You answered the door after the third knock. 

“Gojo.” The cigarette dangled from your lip and bobbed with every syllable. “Megumi’s asleep.”

“Already?” Gojo feigned surprise; his intentions were obvious that he wasn’t here for your nephew. “It’s only—

“Midnight.” You sucked in a crackling breath. With pointed eyes, you took his presence in. On your breath out, the smoke clouded his face, “What do you want?”

“I didn’t know you smoked.” He used your question as an invitation, pushing past the threshold. He was always amused learning more about you, able to store away the details for later torment. 

With a chastised drag, you smothered the tobacco on the closest thing. “I don’t.”

There were reasons habits quickly morphed into vices, something immoral and wicked. You turned to smoking when you were young, disappearing seamlessly into a crowd that did the same. It grew into something that was seen as an extension of yourself—something nervously born only to be counterintuitive. 

You had gone to the store tonight for something so trivial that you struggled to remember what it was. The itch on your palm was a distraction from it all as you pointed for the pack behind the counter. It seemed like the right thing to do to combat stress, especially as you purchased a cheap lighter to follow through. 

It hadn’t been a comfort you thought it would be, but it was the only way you knew best to preoccupy yourself. You weren’t used to such repose surrounding you. You felt—safe. 

Now, each push forward felt unreliable and fuzzy. You didn’t like the way you felt so exposed. 

“Megumi’s getting stronger.” You couldn’t stand the idle silence, mainly when its weight rested on your shoulders. “The other day, this place was flooded with rabbits.” 

Gojo’s laugh flittered against the walls, challenging the warm breeze that swept through the place. It was apparent you hadn’t settled into the home completely; it was still devoid of personality and belonging. 

You hadn’t realized how each of Gojo’s visits revealed more. Something about seeing dishes in the sink and mail littering the counters lightened him. It was a simple indication that he was finally doing something right. 

“He’s a clever kid,” Gojo said lowly as if the neighbors would hear. His voice followed you even when you resumed your sedentary position, “He’s holding back, though…” 

“Isn’t that a good thing for you?” You were critical. You barely lifted your wrist, making a vague gesture of importance. “...and your so-called destiny…”

The constant friction between clans failed to excite you. It served as a reminder that those below them would most feel the repercussions. The day would come when the six eyes would meet the tenth shadow, and you would be left to clean up the mess. 

“It could be...” He answered so casually. You knew it’d be a lie if he promised you anything different. “...but that doesn’t mean Megumi shouldn’t reach his full potential.”

“How noble,” You cooed. 

Silence settled after the soft scoff to your chide. Often, you sat in silence, something Gojo was still learning to adapt to. If he had it his way, you would sit in rapture in his company. Yet, it was far more welcome than before. 

But the obvious question was still floating between you. 

Gojo could have entertained you with lies of being nearby. However, what drove him to your doorstep was a new sensation. It started in his chest, an unassuming feeling that he ascribed to staving off sleep. There became lesser justifications when it infiltrated every extremity. 

It had only become unbearable when missing posters began to overlap, the various faces becoming warped from exposure. The curses responsible were low-grade, but Gojo couldn’t ignore the threat even then. As they drew closer, he employed crows to line the telephone wires. Yet, he could only keep his distance for so long. 

“You’re stalling, Satoru…” 

You avoided addressing him directly, not entirely due to fear, but instead apathy. It took coaxing for you even to allow him to stay, and now, without thought, you unknowingly beckoned him closer. 

“Tired of me already?” His smirk could be felt. 

“Something like that…” You sighed. “If you’ve come here to hide more of those things—” You sat up, reaching for the dingy box that stored a gifted cursed object. “—don’t.”

The object mocked you daily, occupying space it wasn’t meant to atop the living room’s end table. Although it was sealed deftly with layers of protection, you were convinced whatever was within was alive—living and breathing to torment you. The house felt heavy with something that breathed down your neck, and praying, you turned to face it. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Playing coy wasn’t a strong suit for Gojo, not when he’d already hidden another cursed object just above the door frame. 

You hadn’t thought your paranoia was shared despite its contrast. For you, the odds were that harm would find you, and you’d be vulnerable to it all. However, Gojo could handle anything but never fared well with things threatening his control. His thoughts would begin to loop, slowly morphing into images that haunted his nights. 

It drove him to unassigned missions based on rumors of the whereabouts of cursed objects. The more he found, the deeper he placed them into the bones of the building you slept within. It took time for you to catch on, only finding these items when you cleaned, behind old books, in forgotten drawers, or in places just out of your reach. 

“Look—” Gojo started again, denying you the chance to argue. “Megumi’s getting stronger; you said it yourself.” He paused, treading carefully. “There will be a time when you wish these were enough.” 

—

Time passed fiercely. 

Megumi grew at a pace you could hardly keep up with. His sleeping figure was becoming too heavy for your hip, your dexterity failing as you felt for your keys. Then, you felt the weight shift on the opposite side of the door. 

Your struggle ended when it opened. 

“What are you—

“Shh—” Gojo held a finger to his lip, a smile imminent under it. “You’ll wake him.”

With your arms tucked under Megumi’s legs, you held him tightly to your chest as if the person before you was an intruder. Gojo watched as you slowly regained your composure, shoulders reflecting relief and the indent between your eyebrows evaporating.  

Even over the rim of his opaque glasses, Gojo knew better than to think his presence was welcomed. You readjusted your sleeping nephew lightly, frowning as you pushed past Gojo. You felt his footsteps copy your own, closely as if teasing the thought of bumping into you. 

The home was warm as if Gojo had been there for hours. Perhaps he was; you’d lost count of how long you’d been out. Especially as your arms grew tired and the river’s humidity still clung to your skin. 

“It’s late, Satoru…” You murmured over your shoulder. Your body melted from the exhaustion it carried, leaving droplets of yourself as a trail. “Whatever it is can wait…”

Gojo had always been blunt, frequently tactless in his childish rapport. However, he stood before you uncompromisingly as if your absence was a grave mistake.

“The door was unlocked—” His opaque glasses could shield his annoyance, but his words dripped with accusation. “—you weren’t here.” 

Your hold on Megumi remained secure. “He’s been having trouble sleeping.”

Megumi exchanged sleep for taming shikigami. He was diligent in understanding the world of jujutsu. You expected that alone to intimidate him, but he was already above it all, jaded about the idea of becoming a sorcerer. 

Although young, behind Megumi’s neutral expression was immense introspection. Despite his disposition, his morals weren’t laid bare yet, but he knew he wasn’t that person. That alone was enough to weigh him down.  

As his mentor, Gojo failed to notice. His focus was on your oversight. “Someone—something could have—”

“It was just a walk,” You sighed. 

The lights streamed in from the street you’d just wandered on. It cast shadows against the mess of the place. Your stress unravelled into the discarded, forgotten jackets sprawled on random chairs. 

Every surface had some mark that Gojo indulged in. They told stories he could piece together; the stains of coffee on the counter attributed to your tardiness. He could picture how you hurried before school, toast in your mouth as you fitted Megumi’s school tie and ruffled a free hand through his unruly hair. 

“He’s fine.” You promised with resignation. Gojo blinked back to the present, ignorant to how you misinterpreted his wistfulness for further criticism. “The walks help, I think.”

“You realize it’s the middle of the night, right?” He scoffed, pedantic with his dry laugh. “All my efforts, just for you to dangle yourself—

“Come on…” Your hum was half-hearted, looking at Megumi. “Lately, your efforts seem to be only convenient for you.” 

Walking away from the conversation, you did your best to keep busy. You were afraid that if you stopped moving, your world would collapse. If you stopped moving, time would consume you. 

The Zenin clan didn’t take Gojo’s loophole lightly. He responded with a few years worth of nurturing Megumi; money was siphoned to you for his care, a place was already carved for him at the school, and any sugar craving was indulged. 

That left you counting the seconds you still had with your nephew. The walks calmed you, holding Megumi so closely. His arms wrapped tightly around your neck to loosen as he was rhythmically rocked to sleep. 

You weren’t afraid to walk alone. With your whole words encased in your arms, there wasn’t anything you weren’t willing to do. Even if that meant letting go at the end of the night. 

Despite uncanny perception, Gojo was blind to how crushing that felt. 

“I can’t see what he sees, what you see.” You continued aloud. Gojo was wise to hold back on an ill-timed wind-up, able to hear your admission clearly. “But I can feel what it does.”

Megumi groaned lightly, eyebrows furrowing from your chest’s vibrations. You paused, waiting for him to settle again. The night was almost over, and you weren’t sure how long your posture could support your position. 

“Let him be a kid.” You whispered. 

Gojo’s heart had dropped to his stomach, the curtains behind you rhythmically moving in a dance that mocked him. The few words made his fingers twitch. The thought of turning into his worst nightmare was comforted by a tight breath. 

If he genuinely desired to foster the next generation—to have Megumi be his equal—any unsympathetic cruelty didn’t have space to exist. Gojo’s breath deepened, filled with promise. 

Pushing the brief turmoil out, a lightness took over him. “Are you inviting me over for a playdate?”

“He may have a funny way of showing it…” You started. Megumi could be aloof and quiet, but you knew him better than anyone else. His eyes lit up even when he complained about Gojo. “...but Megumi—

“My head’s big enough already.” Gojo stalked toward you, saving you both from something neither of you was ready for. “Let’s make a deal, hmm?”

Carefully, Gojo’s hands brushed under your arms. Their coolness made you prickle, almost taking a defensive position as he offered help.

“These strolls of yours.” He mused. “Call me.” Any protest was lost; all you could do was nod. “I’m overdue for fresh air.” 

The transfer was seamless as he took the weight of your responsibility into his own arms. Megumi was deep in sleep, unaware of how the strength of his mentor was enough to hold you up as well. 

Gojo jutted his head toward your room, hold confident on Megumi. “Go get some rest.”

[twentytwentywhore]

JJK Miscellaneous Headcanons: Kento Nanami

Miscellaneous headcanons about Kento Nanami. Single character because I have so many thoughts.

For more characters please see my tag 'JJK Miscellaneous HC'

Tags:

Warnings: angst interspersed with humor.

Kento Nanami

A very reserved and quiet man. He's developed a habit of failing to find agency in his own life. Especially after the death of Haibara.

Self loathing hidden behind a professional charm. He knows he enables a system that sends children to their deaths. He would give his life for anyone younger than him on any day.

Trolley Problem Answer: Pull the lever.

Kento is a man of routine. Incredibly strict on a week to week basis. If his routine is interrupted it is very capable of ruining his whole week.

A firm believer in the ends justify the means. His own morals are flexible for the sake of the greater good. There is a limit to this however.

He does not see Geto's defection as part of the greater good. Even if his eventual goal of a world free of cursed spirits is a noble one.

Quickly disillusioned to the world around him as a teenager. Did not come from a sorcerer family and even before learning both options were shit, did not have high hopes for his future.

Kento did not plan to become a grade one sorcerer. He didn't think he was capable of it even. Haibara's death forced him to readjust, seeking his own strength to protect those younger than him.

He is lenient towards those born into sorcery. But thinks those that willingly chose it are idiots.

Back in school he used to keep in touch with Megumi and Tsumiki because he had no faith in Gojo's ability to not accidentally let those kids die.

A big foodie. Going out to places and cooking. One of the few things that make adult life enjoyable is a damn good burger every once in a while.

Social smoker. It was a habit he picked up to fit in at the office. It's not a habit he's proud of.

Doesn't understand why people like Ino and Yuji look up to him. Despite that the last thing he could ever do is let them down.

He's tried and failed to pick up so many hobbies. He enjoyed poetry for a while but work and being an adult drained him.

In terms of martial combat, excluding techniques, Nanami is stronger than Gojo.

Cat person, but would actually prefer less standard pets such as ferrets or rodents.

Big football (soccer) fan. Particularly playing it at least.

Would have a Pinterest board for his dream wedding. Venue, decoration, attire. He would rather die than anyone know that though.

He's actually just a bit of a romantic.

Highly emotional when not on a job. Quiet about it, but a crier for sure. Quick to regain his composure as soon as he needs it.

Photographer. He loves pictures of things he enjoys. Views, nice meals, a day with people he cares about. He looks into phones entirely based off their camera specs.

Sings in the shower. In fact the shower is one of his favorite places. It's quiet it's comfortable and there's no one around to judge him.

Reached out to Satoru to become a sorcerer again shortly before Geto's death. He was still doing some independent work from time to time before that even if Business Man was his main identity.

Prefers tea to coffee.

[fieldsofbats]

waitress au : a hectic shift

woop woop going back to waitress au :) i kind of hit a wall with this one but i love them sm and i wanna keep writing them, mostly for comfort. i've moved this month so i'm missing my old waitressing job a lot. requests and all are open <3

part one, part two, part three

its families weekend, aka the busiest weekend for every customer service worker in the entire town. even more so because the clouds have finally cleared and the sun is out.

suns out guns out.

three plates every time you leave the kitchen, speed walking to tables, trays of seven to eight different drinks, cheeks aching from smiling at every fucking person.

ghost parked his bike and was surprised about the amount of cars in the car park. he hadn't figured out why and just assumed maybe because of the nice weather more people were out and about.

he wasn't wrong. he just didn't realise the added factor of children. everywhere.

screaming and crying and laughing and running around and yelling instead of talking and just generally being germ-y children.

you weren't at the entrance to greet him as usual. you hadn't realised what time it was yet as you were stuck dealing with a child's very specific allergies. each nod and smile was aching your cheeks to maintain.

you didn't miss a chance to go into the kitchen and stand still for a few seconds, organising your thoughts and then going back outside.

thats when you saw a new person in your section, simon's table. a genuine smile was on your face as you walked over to him. a familiar face amongst the horrors of random girlfriends and boyfriends.

"hey." you sighed and handed him a menu. he looked up at you and nodded, "busy." he commented. you chuckled "yeah, tell me about it."

it felt nice to talk to him, someone familiar and friendly. someone who won't pick apart the way you smile or be demanding. "im sorry it's so loud. i can sit you somewhere quieter, it's just not my section."

he wanted to say yes so bad, the kids next to him weren't sitting still and the interrupting boyfriend behind him was insufferable. but he couldn't leave you. go one more day without seeing you? no thanks.

he just shakes his head and orders quickly. "i'm alright here. wouldn't wanna be anywhere else."

instead he just watches you this time. not desperate for conversation as the noise around him is enough to keep him stimulated.

he watched as you go into the kitchen with dirty plates and come out with fresh hot meals. each time you have to stop and step around peoples feet or untucked chairs.

although he would make sure it never happens, he thinks about how smooth you would be on the field. smoothly dodging punches in hand to hand combat, or sneaking around buildings. he would rather die that ever let you near danger.

it took longer than normal for his meal to come out, but you made an effort to ensure you were the one who gave it to him. "i wish i could stay with you longer, but things are hectic today." you looked down at him with wide but tired eyes.

an overwhelming sense of concern overcame him. he wanted to take you back to his home, make sure you are well rested and warm and taken care of. this must be hard on you. you should come back with him. he will take care of you.

"thats okay, love." he reached out and gently ran his thumb over the pulse point on your wrist, "i can come by after your shift and give you a ride home." anything to prolong your time together.

it was then he could feel your pulse rise slightly, even through his gloves, gently he pressed between the two tendons. not letting you escape yet. if he let you go now he wouldn't have you again for some hours.

the shift continued the same. the main motivator being the thought of wrapping your arms around simon while riding his co- BIKE. bike.

fortunately, once the larger families and groups started to leave the pressure eased up. now was just reseting for dinner and handing the shift off to the next round of staff.

he was outside, you head him when he arrived back to pick you up. your shift went thirty mins over so when you got out it was quick apologise.

you nodded with a wide smile and took the helmet off him.

[fantasy-so-far]

(Count)Down to Dawntrail - ARR

Evie learned fast that sometimes the more attention you get, the more unpopular you become.

The Coliseum generally only hosted seasoned and trained combatants, but during the era of rebirth, following the cataclysmic events at the Battle of Carteneau, influential Ul’dahn merchants suggested more light-hearted events to be held to boost civilian morale and perhaps invite them to spend their gil more freely. These events ranged from scripted performances to amateur bouts. While popular among the crowd, the behind-the-scenes logistics had a lot of the old-hand organizers ready to strike. It was especially tiring when merchant-appointed talent scouts brought in a variety of street rats for the All-Saint’s Amateur Tournament. With the financial backers breathing down their necks, the organizers navigated the headache as best they could but damage control ate through their patience swiftly.

“LADIES! Save it for the sands!” Erik snarled as he used his shield to push his way between two women who had started to fight in the small gladiator canteen.

From one side of the shield, a tall, muscular elezen known as “the Frozen Fist” glared hatefully at the short, wiry highlander on the other.

“She started it. Sucker punched me,” Evie protested as she wiped the blood from her nose on the back of her arm.

“I really cannot be bothered to give any less of a shite at this point,” Erik snapped, interrupting the elezen’s rebuttal and pushing her back roughly with his shield when she tried to take another swing at Evie. “You street mutts are undisciplined, rabid, and only barely worth the time it takes to keep you from killing each other off. Go grab new feckin’ trays and sit together over there. If you don’t make nice for the rest of the meal, I will withdraw you both from the feckin’ tournament and tell your sponsor’s to collect their refunds from your tanned hides.”

The elezen woman looked ready to take the organizer’s head off before the threat sank in. Everyone in that canteen, including the trained fighters and organizers, believed that they needed to be there. They needed the coin, fame, or maybe just a stable place to stay. The weight of this belief was enough to have the woman thrust her hand out to shake Evie’s before they turned to do as they were instructed.

Once they were seated at the two-person table in the corner, Evie eventually spoke up.

“Can you tell me what all that was about?”

Tense silence stretched out between them until she was certain the stranger would not reply. The elezen woman shoveled food into her mouth at a disturbing pace, further suggesting that she was not interested in conversation as they “played nice.” It must have needed at her enough, though, because before Evie finished half her meal, the elezen threw down her spoon and glared across the table at her.

“My sponsor told me what you said to him. When he approached you after your first fight in the tournament,” the woman growled lowly.

Evie’s expression softened immediately from adrenaline-fed anger to confusion. After her first week of fights, she had been approached by several fans. She knew some of them were sponsoring other fighters, but she had greeted them all with the same grace and charisma no matter their position.

“I don’t know who your sponsor is,” Evie replied calmly. “But I can say with certainty that I have said nothing to any sponsor that should have provoked a violent response. What did he say I said?”

The other woman was incensed by the denial, but after three steady, intentional breaths, she managed to reply without physical violence.

“Look, it doesn’t matter if you said it or not,” she dismissed. “My sponsor is threatening to drop me because of you, and you waltz around her like you don’t know what you are doing. You can save the innocent act. I am only here to either win the cash prize or get an invite to the pugilist’s guild. If those are out of reach, nothing is left to stop me from stomping your pretty face into the pavers.”

 Evie was taken aback by the response, but not for the violent honesty of the woman’s words. Her naivety was not an act.

“I am not…I have a sponsor that I am loyal to, and so if your sponsor is trying to vie for my attention, he will fail. Miserably.”

“Oh, right. Like you have no fucking price. Next, you’ll tell me that you are only doing this to support some noble cause. You can go ahead and choke on your moral superiority anytime now.”

“No, listen,” Evie implored. “It has nothing to do with nobility or morals. My community is my sponsor. Well, they pooled the money my sponsor uses to fund my part in this tournament. My family is everything to me, so no one can buy my loyalty.”

At first the elezen huffed irritably, then she huffed with wry amusement. Finally, she started to laugh and shake her head.

“Save it, princess,” she laughed. “No matter your game or act, I don’t care. When we are opponents, I am going to smash you into the sand.”

“Fine by me,” Evie retorted before slouching a little. “But, I am not lying to you. I hope you get what you need from this, but that won’t stop me from trying to get what I need.”

“Yea? And what’s that?”

“Enough recognition to ask for a pardon.”

The elezen had not been prepared for that response. She looked around awkwardly for a moment before leaning in very slightly to study the sincerity written on Evie’s features. Animosity still smoldered in the elezen, but now there was curiosity pulling at her as well.

“A pardon? For…you?”

“My mother,” Evie replied simply. “She was found guilty of theft and is waiting for sentencing. I am hoping that I can gain enough attention in this tournament that I can appeal to…someone to pardon her.”

“You’re a refugee, aren’t ya?” The elezen asked.

The label “refugee” collapsed over Evie like an earthen ceiling, filling every crack and hollow in her being.  

“Yea. My family is from—”

“I don’t care,” the elezen stated sharply. “I am not looking to get friendly.” She paused for a couple of breaths before growling and sitting back hard against the rear of the chair. “They’re playing us like pieces on a board, you know that right? I know that rationally, but I am irrationally desperate.”

Evie remained quiet, returning to her meal, as the elezen seemed to wrestle with the rant bubbling below the surface.

“I shouldn’t have jumped you,” the woman finally stated, brushing close to an apology but not actually saying the words.

“I agree, but I also understand. I mean, it is exactly as you just said. The sponsors are interested in improving their economic standing and we are tools in that endeavor. I am not an exception. I may be motivated by a personal goal, but I am also pressured to improve the standing of an up-and-coming merchant. The face of our community is relying on me to get as far as I can in this tournament. It is a lot of weight to bear.”

The empathy was initially met with a derisive snort from the elezen, but as she thought about it, her features finally softened just a bit.

“I am Errette,” she offered begrudgingly. “Eerie is what people call me most of the time, and my pit name is the Frozen Fist because I am also a refugee, only from the cold north.”

Evie couldn’t help but smile. When Eerie looked like she was ready to retract the still cool warmth of her introduction, Evie held up a hand and spoke quickly.

“I am Reverie, but people call me Evie. I only smiled because I thought that Evie and Eerie are humorously close in sound. That’s all. I am the Amberdawn Dancer on the roster only because Amberdawn is the name of my sponsor’s apiary. Another reason I really cannot take another sponsor at this point.”

Eerie remained skeptical of Evie’s strange friendliness, but with their names exchanged and no jokes made against her, she seemed keen to believe their feud was squashed for the time being. She returned to her meal, eating with a voraciousness that few others could match. Evie relaxed into her own meal, ignoring the dull ache of the blooming bruises on her cheek and ribs.

[hestzhyen]

Food in the Edgy Sword Manga: A Summary

This is long because I hit the image cap but I at least managed to keep things succinct for once in my life.

In short: Kagurabachi has been using food as obvious symbolism for connection, trust, general well-being, and/or mutual understanding since the beginning.

Chapter 1

Moments like these are cherished memories that Chihiro keeps close to his heart. Note his relaxed, open posture compared to the next image.

Three years later, Chihiro is turning down Mr. Shiba's small offer of comfort. He still relies on Mr. Shiba and cares a great deal for him, obviously, but his heart is closed off now.

Vs. Sojo Arc

Chapter 3

Our first obvious glimpse into the kind nature Chihiro tries to smother with edginess. He'll turn down comfort from others but he'll easily offer some to a scruffy orphan. He even makes sure he gets down to her eye level to reassure her when doing so (Hinao also did the same earlier in the chapter). Take notes, Mr. Shiba.

World's Hardest-Working Uncle Figure doing the clarifying monologue shtick to perfection as always. Just so we know that this bit with Char is perfectly in-character for Chihiro.

Char doesn't trust Chihiro yet, but she's willing to help him with his own quest at least. They connected over the meal (short-lived as it was).

Chapter 5

Chihiro being run ragged by a hungry, lonely little girl should trounce any lingering doubts that this guy is an uncaring revenge bot. You can tell by his thoughts and dialogue here that despite his brusque attitude, he's more focused on Char's quirks and well-being than the information she can offer him. And Char reciprocates by starting to let her guard down- his altruism when providing security and comfort gets her to trust him completely.

Again food being used to reference someone's well-being. Living as a science experiment in captivity was terrible even when she still had her mom (obviously). But Char's safe now with access to good food through Chihiro. Or so she hopes.

Chapter 6

Chihiro's cherished memories of his dad are corrupted thanks to the trauma sorcerer. A meal interrupted, trust and safety shattered. Only hatred is left according to Chihiro when he comes to. ...But he's not exactly the most trustworthy guy when it comes to his own status.

Instead of the science lab or the cell itself we see a tray of indistinct mush and water in a cage. Just a gentle way of bonking us over the head that the food metaphors are supposed to be obvious- and that whatever is waiting for Char back there with Sojo is not good for her (or anyone really).

The comfort Chihiro offers is a bit awkward and messy, but it's still wholesome as fuck. He's willing to give it at his own expense too. Someone please give this boy a hug.

Chapter 11

Poor Mr. Shiba. One day he'll find someone who appreciates his awkward attempts to help people. At least Hinao didn't turn him down despite the poor presentation.

Between this scene and the grilled smelt from Chapter 1, it's pretty obvious that Shiba sucks at trying to be a source of comfort, but at least he tries.

Alone and back to being mistreated. Oh, Char...

Chapter 15

Just like Chihiro, this represents the precious memories Char has of her mom. When she was safe and loved.

And once again, safety and comfort are brutally ripped away from a child and their only parent.

... but what was lost can be found again in the right people.

May nothing bad ever happen to Char again. I mean it.

Chapter 17

Ah, one of my favorite tropes! Interrupting a fierce battle scene to show the combatants having a casual chat! This time, there's no comfort or security to be had through sharing food, though. Instead, this is exchange is purely about connecting and understanding each others' views.

A bit of trivia: these guys are probably eating hanami (a.k.a. sanshoku) dango which are usually eaten while viewing cherry blossom trees in the spring. They're sweet and thus extra unappetizing for Chihiro (he dislikes sweet foods and drinks in general).

Sojo initiates and eats a single dango. He begrudgingly accepts that Chihiro's view of Kunishige's legacy is legitimate.

As the conversation goes on, Chihiro accepts Sojo's interpretation in turn. Both of them are correct. And yet:

Chihiro painfully finishes his dango while Sojo is content to leave just the first one eaten. This is Chihiro being willing and able to swallow the whole truth and all it's implications, no matter how unpleasant the experience is. Meanwhile Sojo cares more about being the one with the "most correct" interpretation. Chihiro ended up getting more out of the conversation than Sojo did, which gave him the edge he needed to win the fight.

And that's the end of the Vs. Sojo arc. The food references aren't as common past this point, but they still show up to give some extra context in a few scenes.

Rakuzaichi Arc

Chapter 19

Hakuri's just a fuckin' mess dude- alone, insecure, and can't give himself any kind of reassurance. Given what what we can infer from his monologue, it's pretty obvious this guy is going through it and not coping as well as he thinks he is.

Chapter 26

Our spaghetti queen and parfait king share a meal to let us know that they're pretty comfortable with each other... though outsiders might not get what their deal is. It's casual and they chat like they've known each other for a while. Tafuku and Hiyuki's relationship is solid despite the yawning chasm between their personalities.

Once again Shiba's good intentions are turned down. At least Char is comfortable enough to let Team Goldfish know about her wants and needs now though!

Meanwhile, Hakuri isn't ready or willing to let anyone console him, but least we have better insight as to why he struggles to keep his shit together. Most people would- and we haven't even seen the worst of his circumstances yet.

Chapter 28

After a few days of encouragement from Chihiro and helping out, Hakuri finally lets himself be treated a little. He earned himself a bit of security and respite but is still uneasy, and thus quick to let the warm fuzzies go (hence passing the ice cream to Char instead of bringing it with him). Neither Chihiro nor Shiba have any themselves.

Chapter 35

Oh man. Oh boy. Time to really get into why Hakuri is the way he is. This could be a whole post by itself but I'll try to be brief. (Honest.)

Shout out to the KB Confession account on Twitter for letting me ramble in their inbox with that long-ass submission about how Hakuri relates to food in this series. I've reworked it poorly here (so much for being anonymous I guess).

Sazanami prison food looks better than what Char was getting, but it's not out of kindness- everything in this place exists for the Rakuzaichi. Hakuri obviously sees himself as no different. He threatens to keep Ice Lady alive no matter what she wants because that's his job; there's no affection or compassion involved when he provides her meals.

Ice Lady seems to want to genuinely connect with Hakuri though. Even when she fails to manipulate him, she keeps the offer of companionship open to him since she's empathetic to his situation.

It works as she thought it would, but maybe not as she hoped. We see him coming to trust and find comfort in her as she leaves less food behind each time, but she's unable to find the same in him. His insistence on their one-sided relationship through food only pushed Ice Lady further and further away despite her apparent growing affection for him. He got it all wrong because he didn't know any better. It's painful to love and be loved as a Sazanami- especially a worthless defect like him. Hakuri wasn't able to understand the ramifications of how fucked up his situation was until Ice Lady slit her throat in his face.

Up until this point, providing food was a positive thing- people connecting and usually finding comfort. At the bare minimum it allowed Chihiro and Sojo to understand each other before the end. But Hakuri inverted and distorted the meaning of sharing food with someone. His actions helped him break free from his family's grip by revealing that he doesn't know what it means to properly offer and reciprocate genuine human connection. So now Hakuri probably associates sharing food with being used and hurting other people.

That's why we haven't seen him share a meal with Team Goldfish or anyone else yet IMO. For all that he's attached himself to Chihiro, he still hasn't exchanged any food with him. Hakuri only trusts that Chihiro saw something worthwhile in in him, that through him there might be hope outside the cage after all. He's barely beginning to see himself as a useful tool. Once he gets to the probably not a horrible human being mindset is where we might see him be able to open up and try to share food again.

Chapter 43

The normal loving family that could have been, if not for Kyora and the clan's slavish devotion to the Rakuzaichi. It's sad but not suspicious that Mrs. Sazanami isn't included much in the meal- all signs from this chapter point to a joyless arranged marriage after all. Her not participating with her husband and sons speaks volumes about how distant and miserable she must have felt despite (presumably) making that spread. To provide care, comfort, and love while not being able to partake of it is all too common for mothers.

And so, another arc concludes with people sitting down to eat together despite some of them being doomed to die. And an exploding building. Gotta have both in Kagurabachi.

Kamunabi Arc

Chapter 45

Hey Chihiro, whatever happened to waking up with fresh hatred every morning? lmao

I love these goofs so much. It's just snacks on a coffee table, but it shows that Hiyuki and Tafuku have earned some level of trust from Team Goldfish. Shiba trusted them enough to supervise their stay in the same room as his sleeping nephews at least. And Char's already completely won over apparently. This manga does not miss on the found family wholesomeness.

Hiyuki might see the Kamunabi as a sort of family. At the very least, they're an important safety net for society as a whole. Hence us seeing the food again- protection and security.

So who and what will be next? Chihiro bonding with Hiyuki and Tafuku? Kazane turning someone's offer down? Chihiro, Hakuri, and some new coworkers chatting over lunch in the Kamunabi's cafeteria? I'm definitely going to be on the lookout! Until next time, Bachibros.

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

Deliciously Dark! Aemond x Oc (Snow falls) Chapter one: Untamed Winters.

CONCEPT: You are Willa WyldeWoods, daughter of the second biggest house in the North. Your father has guests begging him for his support. Aegon and Aemond are here to find allies, with Aemond taking a interest in you because the books didn't mention you at all.

WARNINGS: Beheadings, dark, dub-con, forced marriage, spoils of war, non-con, dark! Aemond, also kinda hatred to Valyrian people which can be considered, in a way, as discrimination.

You have always been a daughter of the North. You were born during the deadliest winter and during the heaviest snowstorm, the North had ever seen.

You came into this world like you were already gone. You had a faint heartbeat and kept your eyes closed. You didn't cry. You were silent like the grave.

Your mother and father's masters tried everything. They ran out of options very fast. Until you suddenly cried out, and your heart started to beat louder. It hasn't stopped beating ever since.

But no one knows what or who saved you. Until now.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Years later....

You are enjoying a cup of warm tea. Your maids just arranged your wardrobe for the new season, selected the old dresses that you became too tall for and threw them out. There is a big pile of silk, linen and other dresses piling up by your door.

Your mother never would even come into your rooms. 'Mother? Is everything alright?'

'Put on your newest dress. The one with the pretty flowers. We have guests coming soon, and you need to be dressed appropriately.' She eyes your maids before heading off.

Your handmaid goes to work and dresses you in a light green silk dress with pretty flowers. You don't have much jewellery but you do take out your pretty necklace with a golden locket and your favourite pair of earrings.

Downstairs is a mess.

Servants run across the halls and try their best to fix everything up before the visitors come. Tables are decked, plates and silver are polished and dinner is being served for starved guests. It looks like it will be a King's meal.

Your father smiles at you.

'My dearest and only daughter. Willa.' He says and takes your hands into his own. He smiles at you and you hug him.

Your oldest brother Brand returns from scouting. 'They'll be here soon.' He announces. He laughs when he sees you. It's a pleasant laugh. 'My dearest sister has become a woman.' He says surprised and you hit him on his arm playfully.

You hold your breath as the doors open. You expect House Stark. You are met with someone else. A Man, with tired eyes and a green with a black coat. He nods his head to you. 'House WyldeWoods. May I present; His royal majesty: King Aegon II? And his brother, Prince Aemond Targaryen?' Your father smiles when the two follow them.

One is dressed in green. One is dressed in black. One is dressed for parties. One is dressed for combat.

The green-dressed man keeps a crown on his head. You understand he must be the king. His eyes are tired. Sick maybe even. His silver hair makes his skin even paler. He scans the crowd, eying your lady maids like they are some delicious snack he can't wait to taste.

Your father stands up and slowly but carefully makes his way to the prince. 'You are far from home.' He says, his voice deadly and sharp. He sounds displeased.

The Prince keeps quiet when his king speaks. 'We are. We heard there is trouble brewing in the North. We came to see for ourselves.' You aren't sure what to make of it only that you find it incredibly stupid. This could very well be a trap and they'd be dead.

Your father laughs a bit like he is educating two little boys. 'There is not just trouble brewing in the North. There is trouble everywhere now.' He looks at Aegon with blame and hatred.

The older man interrupts and takes over the negotiations.

'We came here to ask the support of House WyldeWoods. Can we count on you? You are the second biggest house in the North. We can use an Ally against the Starks.'

Against the Starks? Your family always fought beside them. Not against them.

Your father smiles, looking at the king. 'I'm sorry, my Prince. But you know I can't. I swore an oath to serve your sister.'

'She is a whore.' The king simply says like that explains his motives and why he would be a better ruler.

The snake smiles. 'Surely we can convince you somehow?' He asks sweetly. When he and your father monologue you feel the prince eye you. A lot. You feel his gaze go over your dress. You never had that kind of attention before.

Your father notices very easily and looks irritated. The prince doesn't seem to notice that he has been caught.

Your father groans. 'Is the view to your liking?' He spits out. You feel a bit embarrassed that your father berates the prince like this. He is dangerous. So is the king.

The prince nods. 'She is interesting. I didn't find any traces of her when studying your family, Lord WyldeWoods. She wasn't even mentioned. We never got an invitation to her name day Ball either.' You know why exactly.

A name day Ball is the perfect opportunity for a proposal. And your father wants to keep your lineage and his lineage pure. No Valyrian blood will mess with it. It's why he didn't send the invitation.

But if the Hightowers and the Targaryens gave a damn about the North, which they don't: they would have noticed much sooner and not years later.

Your father lies very smoothly. 'My little Willa is not fond of big parties. She wanted a small gathering with her family.' It makes you sound like some sort of lonely castle-kept girl. Like you don't have any friends.

The prince nods. 'Of course.'

The snake laughs and it doesn't reach his eyes. It is a calculated creepy laugh.'Your daughter is of marriage age?' Your mother gently and subtly grabs your hand and squeezes it nearly breaking your bones. You know just like her what's next.

A proposal.

Your father is aware too. 'She is. What about that?' He asks, suspicious and his eyes narrow.

The hand nearly jumps up and down. 'Excellent. We can become allies. Aemond here is unwed. So is Willa. He will take her as his wife and in return, you will support us with banners and men.' He makes it sound so simple. Except it isn't. You are sworn to Rhaenyra due to your father's oath.

Your father seems to have trouble understanding the new match. 'Willa? My Willa? With a Targaryen? A Valyrian?' He stutters out. You don't like that idea either. 'Piss off! Get out of here. You are not even fucking my goat and certainly not my only precious daughter!' He even grabs his sword to make his point.

The Prince takes out his sword as well and levels it at your father. You quickly intervene. 'Father, put the sword away. It was just a suggestion. Please? Let us remain civil.' You beg.

Your father obeys. 'You won't marry any WyldeWoods. You will go home without her. You sure won't touch her. If your funny Targaryen Incest-loving cock comes near my daughter, I'll chop it off.'

Aemond is enraged by that but keeps civil. 'We will remain here for tonight's feast. We may not be allies but we don't need to become enemies now, do we?'

Your mother nods.

'Help yourselves. There is plenty of food for all of us.'

The next morning you are awakend by the sunlight. Very unusual. When you leave your chambers still wearing your robe you find a deliciously big Banana cake waiting for you. You gasp and jump up and down in delight. Banana cake.

You are delighted.

Banana cake with chocolate dripping. Just like when you were a little girl. You smell the heavenly smell.

You decide it won't hurt to try a piece. 'I heard it is your favourite.' A voice suddenly rings out behind you. You tremble and slowly turn around still licking off your fingers dipped in chocolate.

The prince. How did he get in here? Where is your guard? It feels very wrong. Especially since your hair is a mess and you still are in your nightgown.

'It is. How did you get it here so fast?' You ask and can't help but a little impressed. The cake tastes so good as well. Whoever did it is an amazing Baker.

Part of you is insulted. Did he really think you would marry him because of a cake? Another part of you finds it so sad. He is used to buying his friends.

You also know what will happen if you accept it. He will feel entitled to you and will maybe even force you. 'It's a lovely gift. But I don't think father will appreciate it.' You say gently picking the words. You don't want to insult him. You are alone with him and he carries multiple weapons.

The prince sighs but gives you a small smile. 'It's not for him. It's for you. I know you like banana chocolate cakes.' This is not about the damn cakes anymore. You want to run away and don't feel comfortable that no one is with you either.

Your father will never agree to this match. 'You don't eye me as a bad man. But daddy doesn't like...' You swallow a bit. 'Uhm none northern men?'

There is a small mocking smirk on his lips. 'You can say Valyrians it's fine.' It doesn't feel fine. It feels unfair.

'Fine. He doesn't like Valyrians. He despises Targaryens especially. I wish I could show him that not all Valyrians are rapers and thieves who burn down our cities but-'

'Well with your ancestor being celebrated everywhere it is kind of hard to forget.' You finish your sentence dryly.

'I should go see my Septa. She is probably worrying about where I am.' You get up.

He mirrors you also getting up. 'She is fine. I assure you. Sit down and drink with me.' He points to a bottle of wine just waiting to be served.You flush. 'I don't want to bother you...' You don't care about bothering him. You don't feel comfortable drinking with him.

Your feet take off and you rush to the door leading to the hall.

The door is locked.

You hear a soft chuckle in your ear. 'I didn't say you could leave just yet. But if you want to; I will not stop you. I think you will regret leaving this room. I think you will wish you never did it. But if you must: I put the key on the table. It's your choice.'

There is a faint smell of iron in the air. You follow it curious. Until you come out by the kitchen. A guard in familiar targaryen uniform is busy arranging orders. 'Please. Let us check in on her lady..' A familiar voice begs the guard. You see it's the Bertha. Who always cared for you when your mother couldn't.

'Prince Aemond is handling her. She is spoiled. No need to worry about her. Now get back to work. These skulls won't impale themselves.' The guard casually presents her with a freshly beheaded head and a big kitchen knife. You back away and bump into the prince.

He grabs you gently and takes you with him to the kitchen. Making sure you see everything. There are some girls half undressed sitting on the ground clutching at each other. One girl is held down when two guards take turns. 'Let them stop,' you Growl at Aemond.

He sees it differently than you. He is fine with it. Or pretends to be. 'It's punishment and part of sacking a castle. It's unpleasant, but they can cut her tongue out if her moans irritate you.' He suggests but he already knows you won't be that cruel.

You go the two men.

'I am lady Willa of House WyldeWoods and that is my servant girl. Get off of her-'

One of them grins at you.

'What if I won't, little lady? Will you beg your prince to make him stop me? Maybe you'll end up getting your cunt fucked as punishment too.' He looks over at Aemond with a grin. 'Is she fucked yet? I would know if I were you. There is some space over in the hallways. Take that little lady bitch and make her scream.'

You hear Aemond's chuckle.

Something snaps. 'Get off of her. Last time I ask.' You say very calmly and collected. He gets off the girl and before he has even processed what happened you have kicked him so hard between his legs that you are sure he won't touch a woman in weeks.

You find a knife, on the table near you. So you use it.

You drive it through his throat, repeatedly stabbing him. It sticks out a bit before you pull it through entirely, making the man bleed out on the spot.

The other soldier turns on you enraged. You try to get the knife back but it's too late for that. You can only back away. He is suddenly knocked on his head with a rolling pin before he collapses to the ground. You rip the knife lose and quickly stab him in the heart. There is a thin line of blood coming out. Bertha looks at you, rolling pin still in hand. You rush over to her and have the awful feeling you forgot something.

Until you hear a soft cry and look at the girl that was hurt by the two guards. Aemond is with her now, a dagger against her throat. His only good eye is fixated on you, there is anger and aggression in it. You carefully lower your knife and shake your head.

He grins at that like an animal.

'I don't like you hurting my good soldiers.' Aemond says his voice distant and enraged. You don't have time to beg before they drag her away from you.

[parab0mb]

So, now that I finished the game (again) and the DLC chapters, I'm going to ramble about Crosscode C:

This game is really bizarre in the sense that, to be completely 100% honest, there isn't any particular part of the game that I think is all that mind-blowing. But all the individual elements (heh) of the game come together so well that the resulting product ends up being so much stronger and memorable than the sum of its parts.

Like, most indie games have one or several notable flaws or shortcomings (and understandably so) but this game is such an airtight experience that I can't help thinking about it and just being like "the how HECK is this game so GOOD?!"

...I am of course just getting started, I've got a wall of text of things I liked and thought her just "meh" under the 'keep reading' if you're interested (you've been warned (also spoilers obviously)):

The combat is definitely one of the strongest elements of the game and probably one of my personal favorites; its brutally difficult and sometimes feels like bullshit (and maybe there is one or two instances where it actually is just bullshit) but once you get the hang of it is really is flashy and satisfying and makes you feel badass to pull off. Plus its got the whole easy to learn, hard to master thing going on (like most of it is just charging SP and pressing the space bar, but knowing what moves to use and when def play into things).

I dunno how much of a hot take this is, but I really liked the puzzles in this game! I won't deny that they can sometimes drag on and interrupt the pacing of a temple, but personally I didn't mind. And just like the combat they're so well constructed that, while you'll spend minutes staring blankly reminded that you're a simple-minded creature and that the human mind wasn't made for this and you should be foraging for mushrooms in the woods and risking death over your next meal, they rarely feel impossible to solve without having to resort to a playthrough and are really satisfying to finally figure out (not to brag but there was exactly one puzzle in the game where I had to look up the solution and another where I did solve it on my own but then looked it up cause I thought I cheesed it by mistake). At first I wasn't a huge fan of how fast/precise you have to be for some puzzles on top of just finding out the solution in the first place, but after a while you kinda get used to it (and there is an option to slow things down which is really nice of the devs to include).

The story is... pretty alright. Yeah. I honestly don't have much to say about it. Bit of a slow pace, does the job, and has it's share of twists and emotional moments, but the narrative itself doesn't really do anything mind-blowing either so... you know. I definitely think it's the characters themselves that are memorable and prop up an otherwise average story. I mean every single one of them is just the hugest goober and even characters who initially seem forgettable or one-dimensional end up subverting your expectations and being super endearing/compelling/layered. Oh yeah, and Lea is a character that can only say like 10 words and SHE DESERVES THE WORLD I WOULD KILL FOR H-

Also, since the DLC is brand new to me I do wanna say that the ending was the tiniest bit underwhelming. Like you break into Vermillion Wasteland, fight a (surprisingly easy) boss, and that's... just it. Like 20 minutes top. I dunno, it feels like... something was missing. Still thoroughly enjoyed the entire thing and it is nice for the cast to get their happy ending (not quite as emotionally impactful as the base game's end imo, but still great and I'm glad they gave us more time with these dorks).

The platforming and navigating the overworld is tedious, which sucks a bit since that makes up a good chunk of the game. Idk man, having to scale different elevations of platforms is made frustrating by the fixed camera and the fact that the different "levels" of platforms aren't distinct from each other at all, so its easy to get duped by the perspective and jump to something you can't actually reach (yes you can use projectiles to check but it still isn't fun). Even without everything blending into each other visually, trying to find which obscure paths from four rooms ago will bring you to a chest just isn't all that enjoyable (some of the later maps like Sapphire Ridge were okay though, if only cause they started to have actually interesting puzzles to do). Basically they're just... there, between the actually fun stuff.

The trading system and farming for resources is confusing and kind of a chore. That's all I got.

Guess I'll touch on the art/music since I don't have too much to say about them. To be perfectly honest I'm not actually super crazy about the artstyle (blasphemy!), but I won't deny that the sprite-work and overall aesthetic are still super-well done, even if they aren't my personal taste (tl;dr I'm neutral on it). The soundtrack isn't something I'd put on my phone and listen to in the car, but like the art it's still well-made and perfectly suits the mood of/drives the emotional impact of the game, and there are still a handful of standout bangers (Lea's theme will live rent-free in my brain of course).

One last thing I'll say (that I mentioned before) is that as fun as this game is, it feels like a commitment to get through at times. Even when I first played it and had more free time, sometimes this game just felt "imposing" to pick back up after a break. Idk its hard to describe, but at least for me it was hard to play any other games alongside this (especially with my limited free time) which kinda sucked a bit.

To wrap things up, if I had to give the game an arbitrary number rating, I have to give Crosscode a 0/10 because its an indie game that doesn't have a fishing game (smh honestly how could they make such an obvious mistake 😔).

[simslegacy5083]

NSB (Straud Legacy) Gen 9

Today's (8/7/2024) Episode: An Arcade Adventure

Following the success of Noemi’s “girl’s night”, Luigi had high hopes for his own Bach party, which was celebrating more than his upcoming nuptials.

The video he’d taken dancing with his bros in Windenburg had been nominated for a Starlight Accolade award and caused quite the buzz. According to Rainy Day’s publicist, between that and his continued success on the pro circuit he was now official trending as a clear B-List celebrity!

Luigi had struggled with where to hold his event, finally settling on the old arcade in Cooperdale.

The private party room there was perfect for their party. His waffle artisan friend Anderson had room to prepare a range of tasty treats, including “diabetic and anemia friendly” whole wheat waffles with fresh berries and nuts. Luigi himself started by mixing all his friends some “party fuel”.

Heavily pregnant Beau got his “knocked up special” Paradise Punch mocktail while everyone else got low sugar but high octane “hard punch”.

As they finished up and invited everyone to tuck into the fruits of their labor, Luigi thanked Anderson again for the gift of his fine cuisine.

He had always preferred food that lived up to the memory of the excellent homecooking he’d been raised on, but as of late it seemed like anything that didn’t meet those high standards literally turned his stomach.

Between his “refined” palate, his anemia, and his diabetes mealtimes had become quite a challenge, but he didn’t have to worry about that tonight!

While they ate, talk turned to current events. Hunter and Tess had never ended up having a child of their own, but he was helping countless young sims get a “fresh start”, having taken over administration of the family's foundation for at risk youth when Uncle August passed on.

Denton’s regular charity streams for the cause had brought him much closer to his least favorite cousin, and Luigi was thrilled to see the pair laughing and joking over the meal like old friends.

Their discussion was suddenly interrupted by Beau bursting out with a delighted “well hello there!”, his hands flying to his stomach.

 At Luigi’s questioning look he explained “I’ve been waiting for this little darling to get strong enough to start kicking me around! I should have been more careful what I wished for; she really knows how to throw a punch!” After that he found himself answering several follow up questions about his daughter's gestation for the all-male crowd.

Of course, his clearly “occupied” belly didn’t keep Luigi’s old frenemy from challenging him to “honorable combat” at the foosball table after dinner.

The diverse collection of games in the Arcade’s larger public area was another reason why the gamer had picked this venue, after all, and he was eager to play!

View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here

[go-on-eat-shrooms]

House Blackwood vs House Martell Part II

Part 3

A man shouted from atop to open the gates. You heard the grunts of serval men

putting all their strength to open the wooden gates.

With your sisters and father unstriding their horses and you just jumping down it like a hawk.

Looking around, you found yourself astounded by the difference in architecture. The unfamiliar ambience even the smell was foreign to you.

"Holly cunt, how odd" you exclaimed.

Before you could babble more, you were greeted with an unfamiliar life full of positive vibes.

"Oberyon! What an absolute surprise when I heard you sent a letter by ship to inform me you wanted to visit me. It's been such a long time dear friend! And you brought all 4 of your daughters. How wonderful!"  Said Samwell Blackwood.

"Yes, my youngest daughter was very enamored with tales of your land. So I caved in when she kept pleading me to take her here. She seemed to really like the stories she heard of your riverlands."

Sister 1: saying lowly " and maybe your nut job son that might kill squirrels and eat them raw"

Sister 2: "Y/N has been very excited to meet your son Benijcot actually. Where around your house might he be?"

Sister 3: "well I believe if you don't mind my lord since it's such a big voyage if we could have some nurishments?"

You look bewildered at the stabbing words your sisters vomited out. How could they want her to meet a secret mad boy that turns into a maniac in the slight presents of even the sharpest objects around. And the squirrel comment might be true the fuck!

"At least he could cook it first" you said looking mortified to the side. "I mean how fast can he be to catch a squirrel. What if he ate his fellow squirrel homies too?" You were over thinking the squirrel comment.

So when Sister 3 spoke you felt relieved. She wasn't doing it for you tho. The bitch was just hungry and greedy. But for the first few times in years she was glad her sister was a selfish assface.

"I apologize for my daughters comments. I raised them like men mostly so I believe it's on me they say the things they do."

Oberyn stated.

"No problem, raising 4 daughters must of given you many headaches and torture. I must say raising boys is much easier. I imagine when they bleed every moon of the month, they turn into the most ravenous of wolves." Stated Lord Blackwood.

"But please come into my dining hall. Your daughter is correct; you must be tired and Ship lagged." Said Lord Blackwood.

As all 5 of you were guided to the table you took in the walls that surrounded you. Your head filled with the rabid squirrel catcher Benjicot.

But, through out your meal with Lord Blackwood; you seemed to see others besides your family.  But no one resembling a young boy. Mostly beared bloated men.  You felt a bit disappointed. So much talk over a no show. Did he think he was better than his guests?

Sister 2: " Lord Black, I'm sorry for the interruption. But where might your son be? We have not seen him all night."

Sister 3: "May your son be handsome? We find our youngest sister Y/N needs a buddy to study her combat skills with. She herself is interested in fighting like a wilding."

You swear these whores don't give it a rest. But even then it made you seem even more interested.

"OH my boy benji, he is not feeling so well. He usually goes out to the moonlit meadows of our land to train. I always tell him to be aware of wondering Brackens as well. Those craven cunts have been starting shit with us for centuries" Says Lord Blackwood.

After more talk of the hatred between the Blackwoods and Bracken beef. You finally get to retire to your own chamber. Seemly all 3 of your sisters and father go and take their leave as well to rest.

"Fuck it! I'm going to find him." You tell yourself after 10 mins.

Lord Blackwood said in the moonlit meadows. But there were so many. You made your way through unknown corridors until you reached the outside. Walking just a few more paces you heard grunting and a sword gritting against metal.

As you approached slowly, your boots crunched on some stones. Immediately, you were met with a sword to your throat.

[grizzledyoungimpact]

Febuwhump Day #6: "You lied to me"

Febuwhump 2024 February 6th, 2024 "You lied to me." Wade Barrett/Isadora Ainsley (OC) Pirate AU

The silence on the otherwise rowdy ship The Nexus was jarring as Captain Stuart Bennett stared down his supposed first mate, Issac McIntyre. Since leaving Manchester months ago, they had taken meals together and studied the maps for travel. When Stuart could not steer the ship, Issac would take the helm. When faced with combat, it was Issac who Stuart would fight back to back with. The last few months Stuart had trusted Issac in a way he trusted no other, and now the truth stared him in the face.

Issac was not Issac.

Wade had entered the small cabin the duo shared to tell Issac that they were ready to make port. Instead of knocking like he had always promised Issac that he would, Wade had simply entered the room. Issac had been undressed, not wearing the loose fitting shirt and pant combo that he normally wore. Wade's eyes travelled down the curves of the others body before Issac could cover herself up. Anger filled Captain Bennett's heart and he slammed the door behind him. "You lied to me!"

"Captain...Stuart...le' me explain," the woman spoke, a tremble to her voice. She was so much smaller than the captain's massive frame, "please le' me-"

"You 𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒅 to me," Stuart hissed, his hands balling into fists, "tell me who the bloody hell you really are."

The woman unpinned her fiery red hair, allowing it to cascade down her pale back. Had Stuart come across the woman way from the lies, away from the hurt, he would have found her absolutely breathtaking. "My name is Isadora Ainsley. Wha' I wanted is a life of adventure and rebellion against the British government who imprisoned me brother."

Stuart scoffed, crossing broad arms over a broad chest. Muscles rippled under the navy blue coat that once dignified him as a member of the British royal navy, "You have defied more than just the crown. You know enough of tradition. You know what luck a 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 on a boat brings."

"Have I brough' ye such luck, hm? Has me presence on this boat brough' ye bad luck?" Isadora questioned as she boldly crossed over to the angry captain, "The way I see it, Captain Bennett, ye owe me yer life on more than one occasion. How many times have I saved yer life?"

Stuart cast his gaze away from her. She was right, after all. Be it as Issac or as Isadora, she had saved his life more than once. "The men-"

"Dinnae know," Isadora interrupted with a smirk, cupping Stuart's cheek and forcing him to look at her, "the two of us are the only ones who know. Trust me, Captain. Allow me tae stay and I will be more valuable than ye can ever imagine."

[saltygilmores]

Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls, Season 2, Episode 7 ("Like Mother, Like Daughter") 

The episode opens with Rory and Lorelai insulting each other's taste in music.

LOL, poor Dido, what did she ever do to you Lorelai? #IWantToThankYouu

Dido reference AND a Discman in the first 5 minutes of the episode. Be still my little Millennial heart.

Rory sitting down to enjoy two slices of white bread with no filling (served on fine china) is one of my favorite moments from this series and another fine example of Rory's bizarre eating quirks. Given that in a previous episode Rory was practically eating a Thanksgiving meal in the cafeteria, this must be some sort of special theme day at Chilton. Prison Lunch Day. Or Public School Lunch Day. Rory's Two Slice Tuesday is unfortunately interrupted by the guidance counselor looking to have a little chat. GC won't say why she needs to see Rory but she needs to see her as soon as possible, then tells her this discussion is going to be long enough to make her late for her next class. I once again am envious of Rory's visible lack of anxiety/blissful naivete. I want to live in the clouds like Rory does. No "We need to talk, but not yet, and I won't tell you why, so eat your lunch and just let the anticipation stew the whole time" in the history of ever has had a good outcome but Rory is just smiling and strolling along her merry way and somehow not hurking up her Prison Sandwich. I had such a visceral reaction to this one-time, unimportant Guidance Counselor character that my review began to turn into something of a trauma dump and I had to reign it in, a bit. As a 12-14 year old whenever I saw a "counselor" or school psychologist approaching to "have a little chat" while I was alone (because I was being tortured by bullies and deeply depressed and these same psychologists were doing fuck all to combat it), and they would always use that same sickly sweet, phony, passive aggressive voice and language like this lady here. My fight or flight response would kick into high gear.

Rory Gilmore? OUR Rory Gilmore? Social behavior? Not Tristan? Or Paris?

Alright lady, you need to leave my poor friendless girl alone. Let her chill alone with her bread slices and fruit cup and her novels and let her listen to Dido on her Discman without interference.

Oh Lady, you did NOT just come for my girl's Discman. DISCMAN. Walkman is for CASSETTE TAPES. Lady: When we write recommendations to a University on behalf of a student, the student's social skills are a big part of it. Lemme get this straight, Rory is constantly being harrassed (and her sexual purity being bought into question) on a near daily basis by Paris, Tristan, Madelyn and Louise and so homegirl here decides she's better off chilling alone at lunch and it's HER fault and she won't get into college? Ayup, this is pretty much of a mirror of my own life in the same time period. Schools just did not give a fuckall about student's wellbeing and mental health and put the blame on innocent students like Rory. *more war flashbacks*

But in the real world, Rory would get eaten alive socially in a big college, so that much is true.

Alright lady. Kindly, from the bottom of my heart, lovingly...get bent. Rory: "Loners are those guys you see walking around wearing out of date clothing, they tend to carry a duffel bag, with god knows what inside!"

Lady: Loners come in all shapes and sizes, even pretty girls. Whoa, lady!!

Rory: I don't suppose there is a Walkman/ reading lunch time club I could join is there? Me: Form one and I'll join you. Us friendless losers trying to avoid passive aggressive guidance counselors need to stick together. Lorelai: What does she expect you to do? Rory: I guess that means going up to strange kids at school and saying "hey, mind if I awkwardly butt in where I don't belong and don't want to be?" My heart breaks for Our Rory Gil. Lorelai: Chilton is a cult! Yeah, maybe, but your beloved Stars Hollow is also a cult, which is compromised of many smaller sub-cults. Kirk Job: Car Mechanic

Lorelai: How dare she do this to you? Rory: It wasn't just her, it was Charleston's suggestion. Of course it was. These Passive Aggressive Counselors and their superiors making lives of their already miserable students even more miserable always worked in teams. I just want to point out again (sort of repeating myself here) that this lady did only minimal probing into WHY Rory might prefer eating lunch alone. Kirk: I couldn't help but overhear. I ate lunch by myself and carried a duffle bag and I turned out just fine. R&L:

Sure he's a grown man with night terrors who lives with his mother, but for a small town with limited employment opportunites Kirk somehow manages to find work whenever he needs it and seems content with his life (and eventually finds love), so don't despair girls. Lorelai wants to go down to Chilton to give PAGC and Charleston a piece of her mind, good luck with that. As I'm watching this show for the fourth time, I'm a jaded chain smoker and no longer blissfully naive and expecting that Rory will suddenly propel through the social stratosphere at PAGC's suggestion.

Portrait of author on her fourth Gilmore Girls rewatch.

I already know that by the time she graduates high school Rory has not made a single new friend at Chilton (besides Paris, arguably) OR outside of school in Stars Hollow, and I also know that by the time she graduates college Rory has still not made a single new friend besides Paris (who is more like her wife at that point anyway, and no I don't count those two bozos they tacked on in a desperate move near the end, Lucy and Hailey or whatever the hell their names were, who cares), and by the time she's 34 in A Year in the Life she still has not made one single friend that anyone is aware of. Okay, okay, fine, I guess we can count Marty as her friend. But my memories of what actually went on there are too fuzzy to opine on. Lorelai to Charleston: I'm here to talk about this ridiculous accusation that Rory is a loner and that's somehow a bad thing. Oh come on, how is it ridiculous, your daughter is absolutely is a loner and an introvert and she only has one friend, one she's known since childhood, but yes, it's not necessarily a bad thing as long as she's happy. Lorelai: I raised Rory to do what she wants, as long as it doesn't hurt someone else.

#JusticeForLindsay Rory could have had a nice new friend in Lindsay... Unlike most Chilton parents, Lorelai has to take precious time off from work at a real job to meet with HMC to discuss a pressing matter involving her daughter, but HMC instead admonishes Lorelai for her lack of parental participation at the school and pressures her into joining some dopey club with a bunch of dopey Chilton Moms. Lorelai leaves the meeting. Rory was barely mentioned. Lorelai goes home to Rory and embellishes a lie/jokey joke about how hard she fought HMC in Rory's defense (she did no such thing, because she was barely given the chance to speak by HMC).

Two Slice Tuesday With A Side Of Fruit continues. Ugh, there's Francie (Francine?) in the back. Fuck. I did not care for this dumb mean-girls/Puffs storyline they had going through most of this season. Another one of The Agonies I'm not looking forward to.

This must be the fancy table, where nobody is partaking in Two Slice Tuesday.

I think the Chilton administration should look into more pressing issues, like why this high schooler is a 45 year old named Patricia.

[suolainensilakkart]

Oml i adore Jamie plzplz go more into him and explain his vampiric condition plz! I especially dig how freaky them chompers are, what's this homebrew vampirism of yers like?

OH, RUBS MY HANDS TOGETHER, thank you so much for this ask i've been wanting an opportunity to talk abt his vampirism for a while actually. smiles

so! a lot of the deeper story lore surrounding his vampiric condition is something i've deliberately left up to my game master's discretion, who is a dear friend of mine and has some deliciously evil ideas in store, i'm sure. i have figured most of the basics for myself, though!

the most important thing is that, at least in Jamie's case, his condition isn't natural and was acquired through a curse of unknown origin. the way it functions is largely supernatural, enhancing his physical strength, speed and endurance beyond any human limit, and granting him minor shapeshifting and regeneration abilities as well as the power to supernaturally compel people to follow short commands given by him. (he himself hates using this ability because he is a very sweet and well-meaning boy at heart, though)

while incredibly powerful, it does, of course, require human blood to work, and will eventually start cannibalizing his own blood cells for "fuel" if he goes too long without feeding. Jamie usually goes out hunting every few weeks at night, though he's largely unaware of this happening and used to chalk up the hazy memories of said hunts to recurring vivid nightmares, nosebleeds, chronic anemia and typical college exhaustion, before he somewhat recently discovered the truth of his inhuman nature and then promptly spiraled into an ongoing existential crisis. he's fine, don't worry about it.

there's a few reasons why i made his vampire form's mouth look Like That; the out-of-universe reason being that i think it looks cool as hell and i'm bored of perfectly human-looking vampires in media (nothing wrong with it, just not my cup of tea. c'mon put some spice in that thang for god's sake), and the in-universe explanation amounting to a necessity to hold struggling prey down with multiple sharp mandibles while leaving the clawed hands free for climbing (or disposing of would-be interruptions to a nice meal). Jamie's primary pair of fangs is also capable of injecting a decently strong and fast-acting analgesic into prey, so unless he actually bites down hard with the intent to cause genuine harm, his feeding bites are usually deeply uncomfortable but not particularly painful otherwise. the rapid blood loss would be your biggest problem by then!

while normally he's a stealthy nocturnal hunter, he can also transform during daytime if he's thrown into a sufficiently urgent life-or-death fight and doesn't manage to suppress his prey drive in time; this also means that he's, uh, unfortunately very prone to slipping into a somewhat murderous frenzy during combat, especially if he manages to snap a bite out of whatever (or whoever) he's fighting and trips the part of his vampiric brain that goes haywire for fresh blood, and then all bets are off. he's lucky one of his teammates in our player group has the ability to essentially cast Calm Emotions on monsters 👍

[dxfiedfxte]

@oraclememehacker || Thread continue/move from old editor || continued from here:🦋

✦✦ - Futaba

“Oh don’t you worry Minato-san, I’m not underestimating you at all. Remember, I’m a navi after all.” And being a navi meant that she was ale to see all his latent abilities and powers after all. Not everything of course. She wouldn’t know that he once had the abilities of the universe that made him theoretically more powerful than even Akira was going to be at the end of his journey. Of course, all of that was massive spoilers that she didn’t know was going to happen. Still, she did see that he had a massive potential when it came to his power. It was interesting to say the least.

“When I’m in my navi I can see everything about you and the enemies. Without that I wouldn’t be able to properly buff and debuff anyone, along with hacking the metaverse to be able to change the tide of battle for everyone.” And now she saw that her beef bowl was getting delivered to her along with the hot tea. Since, after all, one beef bowl was going to be so much easier to make then 25. Minato was probably gonna have his bowls staggered over time so that way it would be easier to deliver. She said thank you to the waiter and then looked at the meal.

“Oh, I love me a good beef bowl. This is no Leblanc curry but beef bowls always get me extremely motivated.” And she started to chow down on her bowl with chop sticks and would take a small sip of her hot tea. Just the sensations were relaxing and soothing, considering she was feeling quite anxious at the beginning of this all. Being in Akihibara all on her own like that was probably not a great idea, but she had to eventually learn to live on her own. Otherwise she was going to be a neet forever. “Hopefully your endless beef bowls will start to arrive soon.”

[{ 🦋 }] - "Good, because underestimating someone can be a pretty big mistake. I should know, because I've done it before in the past."

While Minato didn't have the full power of the Wild Card at his disposal and had a limit of six Persona, it did not mean he was weak, quite the opposite. Several times Minato had been praised by other Persona users that despite being limited to six, Minato didn't let that stop him from being an extremely reliable ally in combat, it was almost like he didn't have a limit at all. Even if he couldn't obtain anymore new Persona, he was still able to temporarily fuse the persona already in his arsenal, in a pair, two by two or even three by three and that was his only other way of acquiring a new Persona with new power elements.

At the beginning, he was admittedly a little concerned when he first found about this, worried that these limitations would greatly affect his abilities in combat, but he was thankfully able to adjust and find a way to still be a very reliable ally in a battle, the limit didn't define him, he would always be a member of the Shadow Operatives and that wouldn't change, six persona was all he really needed, especially since the six he had were some of the most powerful persona, Messiah being his ultimate weapon alongside Thanatos.

A few nods as she explains her extent of her navigational abilities, though he was certain she had even more navigation prowess considering the other navigator he'd met during his time in Yasoinaba during the whole P-1 Climax event that had drew him and his friends to reunite. Rise Kujikawa was very talented, and even had abilities in her navigation that surpassed Fuuka's, though it didn't mean she was any less reliable, it just made sense that every new generation of Persona-users would be much more improved than how it was during his prime, when he was first thrown into the world of Persona and Shadow's during his high school days.

[{ 🦋 }] - "Yeah, my team has a navigator too. Though it sounds like you can do a much more than just a basic scan and analysis."

After his response, they were politely interrupted by the waiter who was bringing Futaba her food, fresh off the stove, filing the dining area with a delicious aroma that seemed to expand throughout the whole restaurant. Nodding and smiling at Futaba's thanking him for the delivery to their table, he turns to Minato telling him that his first ten beef bowls of the twenty-five will be brought to him shortly, to which Minato thanked him in return as the young man bowed and disappeared behind the kitchen double doors.

Turning back to Futaba to continue the conversation, he gives a nod in agreement, the food at Café LeBlanc was pretty good, the curry especially. Minato was definitely a fan of them, though in his opinion regarding, beef bowls, it was back in his home town at a place called Umiushi, that would always be the best from his perspective, he could still recall how that place was always packed with a full-house -- a testament to their reputation of having the best beef bowls in all of Japan's island-cities like Tatsumi Port Island.

[{ 🦋 }] - "I gotta agree, LeBlanc definitely knows their way with a curry dish. I love beef bowls too, personally, the best place for a perfect quality beef bowl, is at this place called Umiushi back in my hometown. If you ever get the chance to travel to Tatsumi Port Island, definitely make a stop at Umiushi, just call ahead and book a table, because that place is always packed. Though this place has some good beef bowls too, apparently the first ten of my order will be here shortly, and man I can't wait, been a little whole since I had a nice delicious beef bowl. I'm gonna have to check out the dessert menu after my twenty-five are finished."

[swa--swa]

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[zaneaquaman]

How to Combat Anxious Thoughts

The number of articles out there sharing detailed plans for stopping overthinking and combatting anxious thoughts is countless. However, how often do people with anxiety stop and take the time to follow through with these plans?

As someone who previously had severe anxiety to the point where I couldn’t order my meals at restaurants and would stay holed up in my home without contacting anyone for weeks on end, I learned a pretty good method to combat it — or at least, I found a method worked for me — and I’m hoping that by the end of this, something I said will leave an impact on you. Maybe, just maybe, you’ll find something that could work for you.

1. Separate yourself from your anxiety

This could be incredibly easy for some people, but for many others, it’s very difficult for them to understand that their anxiety and themselves are two completely different “people”. Anxiety is a mean voice in your head that will bully you into submission so much so that some begin to believe their anxious thoughts and repeat the same things to themselves even without needing to. There are studies, one of the prime ones being the Saints and the Roughnecks by William Chambliss, that show how when a label is placed on you, you can start believing that label is accurate to yourself so much so that you change your behavior and thoughts to match it. The same principle applies here. Anxiety may not be an “entity” but, when it’s inside your head, it has the power of one. Anxious thoughts can include statements like: “You’re not worthy of ___”, “why are you wasting ___”, “You’re a burden”, “Why would anyone want to ____ with/to you?”, “Everyone hates you, everyone is going to hate you”, “you mess up everything” and a whole range of insults.

Eventually, if you keep hearing them over and over in your head, you start to believe these thoughts are true so much so that you can’t separate yourself from your anxiety and you no longer think straight. I see it happen every day. You are not your anxiety. You’re a person who is incredibly more amazing and brilliant than any mental illness. You can get over this. It’s your head, not your anxious thoughts’ head. It’s yours. You should be the one in control, not your anxiety, right? Don’t set too high expectations for yourself immediately. It’s not going to happen overnight, and it’s okay if you need medication or therapy to assist you. Trust me, those work wonders and I highly recommend you push yourself to do them. It’s your life so you have the right to take all the time you need to heal and overcome this. Remember, you are in control. Your anxiety needs to listen to you, not the other way around. Easier said than done, but don’t let your anxiety take over your thoughts.

To start off small, whenever you start overthinking, try to put everything on pause and distance yourself from those anxious thoughts. It is a vital first step. These thoughts aren’t “yours”. They don’t define you. It’s a symptom of anxiety; it’s not you.

2. Your anxiety is wrong and you don’t need it

I used to be very attached to my anxiety to the point that I was convinced anxiety was keeping me from being a burden, arrogant, egotistical, and selfish. I couldn’t have been farther from the truth. In my opinion, mental illnesses are like viruses in the way that both cling onto and infect either cells or a person, refusing to let go because they need the infected person to survive. Just as someone with cancer doesn’t need cancer to be healthy (because of course it has the opposite effect), you don’t need anxiety to be the best you can be. In fact, you’d be amazed by how much you’d flourish without the anxiety.

It’s easy to say that your anxiety is wrong, but believing it is a whole other thing. Ever heard of “fake it until you make it”? Shockingly everyone is right, it does work — or at least it does in this case. When you start overthinking, try to interrupt it by thinking positively. Good news, you don’t have to mean it either, as long as you fake it, you’re doing great. Why? Remember that little example I have previously about how labels can literally define us? Turns out it works in a positive way too. If you keep telling yourself positive things, you’ll start believing them and those good things will start happening.

Does it sound kind of stupid when you start off saying positive things to yourself? It can. You may feel like you’re lying to yourself, and that’s okay. It’s the effort that matters. Keep lying to yourself and saying everything is going to be alright. Eventually, the idea will get driven into your mind that you start doing it unconsciously out of habit — just like how you started overthinking and being negative out of habit due to anxiety. It’s all psychological and connected. The same methods that get someone into severe anxiety can work in a more positive way to get someone out of it.

3. Human memory is short, if you mess up, no one will remember

Do you remember everything you did yesterday? Do you remember all the times you laughed yesterday and what made you laugh exactly? Odds are you don’t, or if you do, you only remember vague details.

Earlier today, I was talking with someone and completely forgot we had dinner together last night and was shocked when they picked up on something I referenced that happened last night. Was it embarrassing for me? Yeah, but honestly, by the time tomorrow comes around, I will have forgotten it happened just like I forgot I had dinner with that person last night.

I know the fear of failure and messing up is huge, but there’s a really simple test to give yourself every time you unreasonably believe everything is going to go horribly wrong: if this happened to someone else, would the consequences still be the same and how long do you think it would be remembered? Base it on real-life situations you’ve witnessed. People forget someone gave a wrong answer almost instantly. Eyes move past mistakes in performances as soon as the mistake ends, or they don’t even catch it in the first place.

If something you stressed about did go wrong, how bad would the consequences realistically be? What do you know from watching others mess up?

4. Cut off those thoughts as soon as they start

Picture a stop sign the second you start overthinking is what a therapist had told me. While this is helpful now, it can be very difficult to catch the moment when you start spiraling down when you aren’t used to pinpointing it. If you stop yourself a little later or realize it’s too late, remind yourself that it’s okay because it does take practice. Just keep trying. It does get easier over time.

Stopping the bad thoughts at their roots is going to change your life once you learn the right way to block them. Some people think of something else, imagine puppies, a blank wall or space, or they do follow the stop sign method. Anything that distracts you or stops you from continuing down that negative spiral is a win.

5. Take your time

It will not happen overnight, and it might not happen in a month either. Progress can be slow or fast depending on the person and situation. Don’t be too hard on yourself. You’re going amazingly, yeah? I believe in you. Keep fighting. It’s okay if you give in a few times, just be sure to pick yourself up off the ground eventually and try again tomorrow.

I have a tier on Patreon and Ko-fi that costs only $1/month to get access to exclusive poems and writings based on the topic of mental health. More importantly, though, I offer one-on-one communication with you to offer support, advice, or just someone to listen to whatever is going on in your life. My goal is to create a safe space where people can discuss mental illnesses and connect with one another. You are not alone in your struggles. I'm here to listen any time.