#being anxious doesn't mean you are allowed to surround your kids with your own fear and stress or teach them to share your anxieties | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

msladyrosa · 3 years

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I'm here to tell a story that my heart is screaming at me to tell.

This is me. I fucking hate myself, just as much as I fake loving me. I don't think I've ever been this contempt as I was in these photos. I'm awkward and I fake confidence by throwing sarcastic and snarky comments. My coping mechanism consists of lying and just hiding behind my fake me. I've created a confident, pretty and delusional front that isn't me, but it's just as real as the raw version. My raw is ugly and disgusting and I hate it. I hid it and for the love of the non existent God there is, I wish I didn't have the raw side. I write in my skin, because if I went back to cutting, then I would no longer have pretty skin that people can love. I love eating, but I don't do it, because of the fear of losing my 36,28,42 measurements. I'm suicidal, but heavens forgive if I make a joke about it in order to cope with my insane itch to make my skin purple. My arm hair is soft and the last time I shaved I was scared that someone might see the thin, white lines that are underneath. My body is sexy as fuck, but Heavens forgive me if I actually feel comfortable in it. Thoughts of "they'll be fine without me" or "it's better if I'm not here" are drowned by the words I told someone who was a suicidal as me, "killing yourself would not make the pain disappear, you're just passing it on to someone else". I'm such a fucking hypocrite, or is it just a twisted way of actual introspection? What is wrong with the way I walk funny because I'm dizzy for the lack of food is that people notice. Oh great deity in the sky, please allow them to notice, but forgive them is they dare to ask what's wrong. I look happy and relaxed in the photos, hell yes, but not I'm an anxious mess that's writing this in the middle of a mental breakdown. Parents are never the one's to blame, no forgive them for not validating their children's emotions and struggles. No, strict parenthood creates strong-willed, rightful and successful people that think of themselves as worthless, weak, pathetic excuses. Oh we lie, and we lie good. Ask actors if they had strict parents... You'll find none, why? Because strict parents will inforce you an internalized fear of failure outside of social norms and acting is "a waste of time" to their standards. Support doesn't come from the right sized bra, but it sure as fucking hell is welcoming to be held and somehow relived from a burden you didn't fucking asked for. I was so happy ya'll. I was in cloud nine. That day I had a date with a guy I like that I thought was way out of my league, I lied my way through his pseudo intellectual remarks and he believed it.

We know how to lie so good and so true that eventually you lose track of your actual motive to do it in the first place. Society wants you perky and pretty, fuck yeah they do. How do I get all perky and pretty when I only see disgusting, overdosed surroundings? It's easy to get worried when you finally realize somethings not right. It wasn't right to be kneeling at someone's feet screaming a nasty and raspy wail of pain. 10 years it took me to fucking do that and yet nothing really changed. Now I'm just looked at with pity and the quizzical look that can only mean "when is this one gonna blow up again?" Oh, honey, I won't, you're just worried that you're just realizing this now. It's easy to be outside and just stay that way.

I was so happy, all the time. I was forced to lie in order to move forward. You love me? Yeah, as long as you earn it. Are you proud? Sure, as long as you don't fail. Am I okay because I feel like this? Well, it's fine as long as you keep it in. It's beautiful. "As long as..." my reality had always been subjected to a condition, and clause, a fucking constant reminder that I have to earn my happiness. I have to earn my own idea of self worth that is diluted through your standards. I have to earn reassurance from the people I surround myself. I must assume the best case scenario but I can't be surprised when it's the worst outcome.

Having loved a mad human made me realize how flawed I am. I was happy. So, so happy I forgot I wasn't. I tortured myself through endless nights of doubt, starvation with a full kitchen. Sleepless nights contemplating self harm and then decided against it because I had work and the cute client at work would see how damaged I was. I tortured myself with the idea of loneliness in a see of people, only to realize I've been in that see long enough that I grew a tail and fins. I was plagued my guilt because I didn't love them, but when exactly did it go from happy to uttermost bullshit? I was so happy I forgot what sadness was.

I was so happy it started hurting. Hurting when I failed to do something. It was excruciating when I was not able to buy a car because I had noticed I had spent my money of pleasing those who swore they'd provide for me. I was in pain when I showered and instead of singing, I just blasted music loud enough so that nobody heard my hyperventilating bitch ass. I was in so much pain that I welcomed it as my way of happiness. I loved my pain, because I've had it my whole life.

I had it when I was in forth grade and in order to fit in I had to go a sneak around to kiss a boy, and I didn't want to. It was there when I was accused of fighting other girls, but in reality I was trying to establish my self worth, so I was punished. In fifth grade I loved a boy so much I had written beautiful words to describe how much I loved his smile, and so he said I was stalking him and he got scared; 2 months later I was in a shrinks chair talking about it; fast-forward to last night, that same boy explained to me how much he wanted to fuck me now that he had lost weight. Middle school was terrible. Seventh grade, I was constantly degrading myself because another pretty blonde chick was only my friend when she could laugh through me. I insulted a perfectly great teacher because she noticed my self destructive behavior. Eighth grade came and I was lost with a blonde boy. He was beautiful and I was not. He was friends with the girl that swore fielty to me and he chose someone else and because he chose the pretty pale skin on someone else, I settled for the kid that wantedto finger me in the bleachers during recess. Ninth grade came and I was failing classes, parents were strict and hurtful, but they aren't to blame for my shortcomings. That's when I found myself in the arms of the pretty blonde thing I had fallen for. The pretty girl had him in public, I could only have him when we snuck around and he would hold me and kiss me like holding on to his life line. I was letting him touch me, but my self hatred didn't know no boundaries so I suck to my knees and gave my first blowjob at the top of staircase wearing only a lazy purple bra and the school uniform and the shame I'll forever wear because I did it without wanting to, but because I was expected to.

I was so happy to be out of there, that I ended up sinking deeper into my lie. I was smart, new and vulnerable. That's how I met the wholesome boy I called my first boyfriend who was nice and respectful, but he was as ugly as they come. I was a queen to him, but he was looking more like the ogre on the fairy tale and there came my vanity, my ego, my selfishness. I was brutal and I couldn't care less. High school started with a bang with the boy I played with, and when he got to close to my actual raw person, I kicked him out with a bang and he cried. I just stood there not knowing how to react, so I just went on to the next person I could lead on and play. Junior year I knew was difficult, and a black boy with a nice boy and a promising basketball future came around, I once again craved approval and degraded myself to it. That's how I ended up sneaking around 10 minutes before my parents picked me up. In the second floor, I'd found myself again on my knees, and expected to give a blowjob in exchange for attention, and like before, I was hidden, and I expected to be I had tears in my eyes, but because of my shame. Senior year came in, and the black boy with the attractive body was replaced with another, but this one only had pretty eyes and the promise of spoiling me with his family's money. Once again, I said yes when he said he wanted me to be his girlfriend, at least this time I was not hidden, but I was back in the cycle and I ditched my best friend in a movie theater so that I would be in the backseat on a Dodge, sucking my pseudo boyfriend's dick with tears on my eyes, not becauseofhis size, but becausethe disgust towards myself. Like before, I was expected to do so, and so I did.

Heavens above forgive the religion to blame women for sin and lust, but instead punish us for the boys who couldn't keep their dicks to themselves. The end of senior year came, and I was relieved, but then I fell for the guy my parents liked. Humble background, similar interests, and a promise of stability. I was ditched because for him I was a whore and his friends told him so, I accepted the insults and insinuations.

I was so happy, I forgot the rest. College was great and a religious nut job, a platonic love, a semi smart dipshit with the complex of being over everyone in experience, a quiet mature man that treated me with decency, the suicidal broken guy who needed healing #1 and the suicidal broken guy who needed healing #2, later, here I am.

I was so happy in these pictures, I had no idea was contemplating my own disappearance. I write this with migrane, blue ink from a ballpoint in my thighs, with nostalgic memories of moments where my mind wasn't this crowded. I was so happy it hurt. I guess that my logic dictates that happiness is painful and that my pain can bring me joy, but fuck I was so happy.

I had everything. I was pretty, I was smart, I was important. I'm still all those things, but right this very second, I'm happy, and painful so. Heavens above forgive for I have sinned...

I dared to fail... I sinned

I dared to fall into lust... I sinned

I dared to judge... I sinned

I fucking dared to wake up every miserable day... I had sinned.

I dared to be painfully happy... I sinned

I lied... and so that's my greatest sin of all.

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omnivorousshipper · 4 years

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Hi, I saw you were taking requests and I've always loved your writing! If it's aright, can I ask for a sweet Hattie and Deckard sibling bonding story? In H&S before the Somoa battle, Hattie said something like, after they get home she'll get to know her brother again, maybe something along those lines (doesn't have to, whatever you have inspiration for)? Thanks!

Hi! Thanks for the request friend! I am so sorry this took so long to get out. After my state was put into lockdown, I’ve been bogged down with work and school even worse than before the virus hit the US. Sorry this isn’t much, but I hope you enjoy it!

Hattie bit her lip as she stood in front of the door. It was a perfectly normal door, no discernible features that would make it stand out in a crowd of doors. But, the door meant so much. Behind that door, was her brother. The one she had thought had betrayed not only his team, but his country and everything it stood for. The brother she thought had betrayed her. The one she had made sure not to contact for years, the one she had ignored, even when she had heard rumors that he had gone to prison. She had made sure any news surrounding him and the rest of her family would never reach her.

Taking a shaky breath, Hattie gripped the handles of the cloth bag she was holding. When they had gotten back to London and parted ways, Deckard had given her a small smile, his eyes softening around the edges, and had offered to cook her anything she wanted, as long as she brought the ingredients. When he had offered, Hattie felt her heart soar; it had been so long since she had been able to have his cooking.

When she had been a kid, just coming home from primary school, she would always run into the kitchen and right into Deckard. Their mother was usually out of the country, doing something to further her little criminal empire, while their father was either off at work or the pub. Which left Deckard to take over the kitchen and make sure his siblings had something to eat.

She could still vividly remember the smells of fresh bread, fatty roasts, and just baked cookies wafting through the air as she stepped through the door of their house. Even the sound of Deckard laughing as she and Owen fought over the last dinner roll was crystal clear. It seemed as if half of her childhood was spent in that kitchen. From studying for all her exams at the dining table and listening to Deckard moving around the kitchen, to sitting on the kitchen floor and crying, eating ice cream straight from the tub, while Deckard told her her ex-boyfriend didn’t deserve her.

Now, here she was again, just about to walk through another door and into the kitchen Deckard no doubt was already prepping.

But, it felt as if something was keeping her rooted to the floor and making her arms feel full of lead and unable to knock on the door in front of her.

What if Deckard saw her and decided he actually didn’t want to make up with her? What if she had truly severed their relationship and nothing was salvageable?

Similar thoughts flew through Hattie’s mind, making a lump form in her throat. It would take severe torture for her to admit it, but she had missed her family desperately. Through the long years of not talking to him, there were many times she wanted to pick up the phone and hear her brother’s voice. But, she had stayed strong and instead threw herself into her work to distract herself. Now, she knew that it was all for naught. If she had had picked up the phone, maybe she would have listened, maybe she wouldn’t be standing outside of Deckard’s door, eight years later, unable to simply knock.

No, I wouldn’t have, Hattie thought sadly. She knew herself too well; there was no way she would have forgiven Deckard back then. It wasn’t until she was betrayed herself that she finally saw reason.

Letting out a long breath, Hattie shifted the weight of her purse on shoulder, trying to ignore what was inside. She was not anxious just to have dinner with Deckard, but to show him the documents she had on her as well. They were papers that would allow Deckard to come back to MI6, no questions asked.

Hattie had fought tooth and nail to make the higher ups to evaluate Deckard’s case and admit they had been wrong about him. And it wasn’t too hard afterwards to suggest that they bring him back, after all, what’s better than having one Shaw? Two.

And maybe three, if Oh ever picks up the damn phone, Hattie huffed to herself. Owen would always be a stubborn arse, but she was sure she could win him over eventually. He was an adrenaline junky and she knew he would love doing spy work, outsmarting criminals, other spys, and whoever was considered a threat by the British government.

But.

It was Deckard she was concerned about. He seemed content to live peacefully, a few jobs here and there to keep him active, but for the most part, he preferred to stay in London and enjoy life. Hattie had no idea if he would actually want to come back to the people who had thrown him out and hunted like a dog for years.

Hattie just hoped that being able to work with her would be enough to convince him to come back.

With that last thought, Hattie squared her shoulders and finally knocked on the door in front of her. It took a few moments, but it finally opened, revealing a smiling Deckard. He was wearing sweatpants and a long sleeved shirt that hung loosely on his frame.

“Hey, Hatts,” he greeted softly and moved aside to let her in. “What did ya bring?”

“Ingredients for shepherd’s pie,” she said sheepishly. It wasn’t sophisticated or anything, but it would always be one of her favorite dishes. Stepping past Deckard, she kicked her shoes off. She felt fingers brush hers as Deckard took the cloth bag and started to look through it. Hattie had to stifle a laugh as he pulled out the box of Jaffa Cakes she had hidden at the bottom of the bag.

“Really, Hatts?” Deckard asked, raising an eyebrow, but she could see his eyes dancing with humor. “Did you really think I didn’t have my own?”

“You can never have enough,” she shrugged, a smirk playing on her face.

“Damn right,” Deckard smiled back. He put the bag down, and opened his arms for Hattie. Without even thinking, she rushed into him with enough force to make him let out a small wheeze, but she didn’t care as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She felt him wrap his own arms around her as she leaned her forehead against his.

They simply stayed like that for a long minute, enjoying being close to each other again, knowing that the other was finally there.

Hattie didn’t care that her bag was digging into her shoulder, or that several of the ingredients she had brought would need to be refrigerated. The only thing that mattered in that moment was Deckard. The way his arms grounded her, made her feel as if she was finally home after years of being lost. She could feel tears pooling behind her closed eyelids as she felt Deckard tighten his grip.

“It’s nice to have you back, Hatts,” Deckard whispered.

Hattie could only nod, too scared to say anything in fear of letting out the sob she could feel trapped in her throat.

After a few moments, Hattie felt Deckard’s arm loosen and let her go. Hattie had to stop herself from jerking forward and grabbing him, not wanting to let him go. But she knew that she needed to. After all, they wouldn’t want the ingredients to go to waste.

“Come on,” Deckard said, picking the bag. “Promised you a dinner, didn’t I?”“That you did,” Hattie nodded and watched Deckard turn and walk deeper into the house. When he turned his back on her, she quickly scrubbed at her eyes, hoping he hadn’t seen the tears there. Readjusting her purse, Hattie followed after Deckard and was finally able to see where he had been living for the past few years.

The living room and connected kitchen space was very modern, with grey and white undertones with the many windows letting the space feel larger than it was. Hattie wasn’t surprised to see that Deckard’s kitchen was so spacious. He had always complained that their family home’s kitchen was too small, especially when he had to deal with Hattie and Owen always running around in it.

“Make yourself at home,” Deckard called out to her as he started to unpack her bag and move around the kitchen, grabbing everything he would need for their meal. Hattie felt a corner of her mouth twitch involuntarily, turning into the beginnings of a smile. It was nice to see him so relaxed and doing something he loved.

Sitting down at the kitchen island, Hattie set her bag down on the stool next to her. She eyed it, wondering when she would bring up the papers she had. Knowing Deckard, his mood would immediately sour when she said anything even hinting at him and MI6. Deciding to let the issue rest until dinner was over, Hattie turned her attention back to Deckard. His hands were already peeling potatoes, moving so quickly Hattie could barely keep track of the movement.

“So,” Hattie started, getting Deckard’s attention. “What have you been up to lately?”

“Nothin’ much,” he grunted. “Took a local job, but it wasn’t too exciting. Just keeping an eye on an expensive painting and taking down any thieves trying to get their grubby hands on it.”

“You’re really selling yourself out as a paint watcher?” Hattie couldn’t keep the hint of a sneer off her face as she asked. She expected better of Deckard.

“Oi, don’t go knockin’ me,” Deckard said, pointing the peeler at her. “I did it as a favor to our cousin Jamie.”

“Of course it was for him.” Hattie rolled her eyes. Their cousin was a driving force in the black market of expensive paintings. But then something occurred to her. “Wait. I thought he was working with Interpol now?”

Deckard let out a snort of amusement.

“As if that would stop him from making forgeries and selling them to rich folks. Him joining Interpol just means he gets to screw over his competitors.”

“That definitely sounds like the guy who took us on our first bank heists.”

Deckard rolled his eyes as Hattie smiled at him. “I wish he had waited to take you on yours. Seven year olds should not be robbing banks.”

“But you were six when he took you on your’s,” Hattie shot back.

“And knew how to pick locks better than both of you and Oh combined.”

“Hey!” Hattie pouted. “I was pretty good!”

Deckard raised an eyebrow, a smirk growing on his face.

“You sure about that?”

“Yes!”

“Then why do I remember having to get a pair of handcuffs off you when you were nine?”

“It was a fluke. They had come off hundreds times before,” Hattie huffed. “They just refused to come off that one time.”

“Mmhm.”

Hattie might have been pouting, but on the inside, she couldn’t have been happier. It felt so nice to hear Deckard joking around and teasing her again.

“At least I knew how to lock things,” Hattie casually said, and felt a small thrill at seeing Deckard’s head whip up from where he was cutting up carrots to give her a sharp look. “If I remember right, it was you who let a seagull into the house because you refused to lock the windows.”

“How was I supposed to know it would come in?” Deckard grumbled, and Hattie’s nose wrinkled in delight as she saw a small blush of embarrassment on Deckard’s cheeks. It was always satisfying when she could tease him right back.

“And ruin Mum’s house party?” She added.

That comment earned her a glare and a piece of carrot thrown at her head. She let out a laugh as she batted the piece away from her face. It felt freeing to tease someone who knew when she was teasing and not have people getting offended. Even if they hadn’t talked in years, it seemed as if Deckard still knew everything about her, down to her tone.

Picking up the piece of carrot, Hattie lobbed it at Deckard’s head in return. Unfortunately, it didn’t hit, but it was still wonderful to hear Deckard laugh as he dodged it.

“Oi! Don’t go throwing things in my kitchen!”

“You started it!”

Both siblings fell into a fit of laughter, the noise expanding and seemed to fill the whole room. Smiles never left their faces as they chatted, teased, and threw a few more vegetables at each other. Hattie watched as Deckard effortlessly moved around his kitchen, handled every utensil with ease, and made, in Hattie’s opinion, the perfect shepherd’s pie. As he slid the dish into the oven to cook, Hattie looked around the place again, and a hallway leading further into the house caught her attention.

Getting up from her stool, Hattie padded her way over to what caught her eye. Hanging in the hallway was a large framed picture of the queen. However, Hattie had never seen the queen like this: the monarch had her eyes closed.

“Deck,” Hattie called out. “Is this real?”

She couldn’t take her eyes off the picture. It was all in pink shades and seemed surreal as it perfectly showed the queen with her eyes shut. So few pictures like it exist; probably only ten exist, if Hattie remember correctly.

“Oh, that? It’s real. Owen found it somehow and for some reason thought it would be a good purchase.” And even though Hattie wasn’t looking at him, she could hear the eye roll in his voice.

“And he just thought to give it to you and not keep it for himself?” She asked and finally tore her eyes away from the picture and walked back into the kitchen.

“Well, he can see it whenever he wants here.”

“He visits that much?”

Hattie had guessed that Owen and Deckard had continued to be close to each other, but Owen wasn’t the one to visit others frequently.

“Well,” Deckard started and didn’t meet her eyes. “He lives here, more like.”

“Really?” Hattie swore her eyebrows were in her hairline. “Owen is living with you? Why? Can’t he find his own place?”

“We both know he could easily find his own place,” Deckard admitted.

“But, he’s just a lazy bastard,” Hattie finished. Deckard gave her a half smile, not verbally agreeing, but the look in his eyes confirmed it.

At least it’ll be easy to find him, Hattie thought to herself. She had worried that when she did try to find him and talk to him, that she would have to travel halfway across the world to do so. The thought had her looking back at her purse, the papers once again invading her mind. After dinner. I’ll show them to Deck then.

“The pie is going to take some time to cook, you want to watch something while we wait?”

Deckard’s voice brought Hattie out of her thoughts. Glancing at him, he was drying his hands on a dish towel, his head cocked to the side, waiting for her response.

“Sure, what did you have in mind?”

“I have the first few seasons of the Crystal Maze.”

“Really!” Hattie nearly shouted in glee. When she had been in secondary school, she and her brothers would squeeze together on the small couch in their living room, all three excitedly watching the show. Their shouts of frustrations at the contestants’ stupidity could be heard from all over the house, and sometimes from the neighbors next door, as they loved to complain to the siblings’ mother.

Deckard chuckled at her enthusiasm. “Really.”

Hattie excitedly followed him over to the couch and threw herself down right next to him. She folded her legs under her and cuddled up to Deckard’s side, watching the TV intently as he finally got the show on screen.

It felt almost like she had been transported to the past as the theme song came on, making Hattie feel as if the last few years hadn’t happened and she was once again a happy and go lucky child who could always go to her big brother for help. Sneaking a glance at him, Hattie knew that that had never changed. Even though she hadn’t believed him and cut him out of her life, Deckard had still been there to help her survive Eteon. He had still been a big brother and helped her in every single way he could.

Turning her attention back to the show, Hattie laid her head on Deckard’s shoulder and felt him lay his head on top of her’s. Every anxiety she had about coming here tonight was gone as she felt a calm she hadn’t felt in years come over her. Letting out a content sigh, Hattie decided not to bring up the papers that night. She didn’t want to spoil such a nice reunion.

#shobbs #hobbs and shaw #hattie shaw #deckard shaw #family feels #hurt/comfort #angst/fluff #sibling feels #asks #fanfic #shaw family #owen shaw

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mostfreeee · 3 years

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ABOUT

Long as the voice inside me says go, I will always keep on running.

My Sonic is primarily games & IDW comics verse. But with some small divergents here and there.

Basics:

Name: Sonic the Hedgehog Age: Canonically 15, but my Sonic is defaulted to 19/20. ( varying greater depending on the verse ) Height: 3ft 2in / 98cm Weight: 77 lb / 35 kg

Synopsis: Sonic is an anthropomorphic hedgehog who can travel faster than the speed of sound. “Got to go fast” is basically his occupation, when he isn’t taking down robots created by an evil genius known as Eggman. He values freedom and nature, two things Eggman seems determined to oppress and destroy.

Generally a people person, Sonic cherishes his friends greatly and enjoys meeting new people. He even has a tendency to make nice with his foes, never one to let a bit of rivalry stop him from getting along with someone.

His carefree attitude can make it seem like he is irresponsible and reckless without ever thinking of the consequences. And while the reckless part is true often enough, he has a strong sense of justice and takes it upon himself to step up whenever the world needs saving.

Apperance:

I see my Sonic having quills on the shorter side, a bit like these (draw by Tyson Hesse)

As much as I adore the long quills that fall down behind him like in regular Modern Sonic designs, something about the shorter quills that spike more backwards than downwards fits so well.

Colour Hexes:

The blue fur: #0000e6

The peach fur: #eebc9d

His eyes: #0bda51

Personality:

Sonic is a pretty laid back guy, in his own way.

He loves to travel, going at incredibly fast speeds, but he also likes to relax and read or nap.

He's all about free will. He wants people to be able to choose what they want to do on their own. Though he knows some people just need a bit of encouragement too and that’s all fine.

He likes being optimistic

For the most part he isn’t necessarily oblivious, he knows all about the bad in the world, but he likes looking at the bright side.

He knows that life doesn’t always have a happy ending, but he is able to picture a better future and thus will always strive for it. Even if that means that he’ll end up severely disappointed at times, it’s better than living your whole life like nothing good will ever come.

He strongly believes in second, and even third, chances. If someone wants to change for the better, why not encourage them to?

Because of this he doesn’t hold grudges well — at least when it comes to himself. If you harmed a friend that’ll get you a bit more of a watchful eye, but ultimately Sonic believes that everyone can change.

(for better or for worse as seen in IDW comics)

He doesn’t have a house, but he definitely has a home.

For all his wanderlust, he’ll always make his way back to where his friends are settled at. Most commonly he’ll go to Tails first, and then take his time making rounds to see his friends again. He eventually gets restless if he doesn’t go out exploring or if there hasn’t been a battle or something to get rid of his excess energy. But he drops by often enough to still be a frequent face.

He loves company

Even if it means he needs to slow down, he’ll most often prefer having company than not. There is always time to squeeze in a run here and there, so he’ll never pass on a chance to hang out if someone is free.

It’s not like he’s clingly, he knows better than anyone that people have their own things to do. He’s perfectly fine being on his own for months on end, and there is usually enough things to distract him during that time. It’s just that if schedules happen to line up he’s definitely going to make the most of it.

If he ever does feel lonely

While rare, he’s first instinct is to go running and looking for a distraction. Because again, he knows people have their own things to do and he doesn’t want to be a bother of all things.

If that doesn’t work, he can usually wander by Tails’s workshop and settle in at a corner under the excuse of wanting a nap without worrying about the weather outside. He won’t bother his buddy, but the sounds of Tails tinkering helps ease the ache in his chest.

His impatience doesn’t come from moving slowly, it comes from not doing what needs to get done.

As stated above, he doesn’t mind slowing down his pace for other people. However, if there is something that needs to get done, whether urgent or not, he wants to get on with it so it’s complete.

He doesn’t like leaving tasks left unfinished because all it does is drag in the back of his mind. He rather be able to go out and have fun without worrying about something else.

If there is something that forces him to move slowly (so he isn’t slowing down by choice) then he does get very impatient very quickly.

He enjoys using corny jokes and inserting random humour whenever he can.

He’s perfectly aware that a lot of his jokes are cheesy, but having people groan in exasperation is just as good as having people laugh in response so!

Really no matter what you do you’ll end up encouraging him.

He’s no genius, he’ll leave that to Tails, but he does end up well enough read.

Though he does gravitate to adventure-type stories, he does like learning about the world and enjoys fun facts.

Often times though, if he falls asleep in the middle of reading a book he doesn’t bother to pick that book up again when he wakes, unless there was something really interesting about it. Even if the book wasn’t boring and he fell asleep due to going for days without rest, he just figures the time to read the book has passed and moves on to the next.

He loves nature

It’s part of why he likes to travel so much. There is always a new sight to see, and nature just never disappoints!

He likes finding all the places where nature is allowed to develop naturally without interference of settlements. When he does come across such a place, he does his best to not disrupt anything there. Which also means he doesn’t move too quickly just so he can be sure his speed doesn’t destroy anything.

He really enjoys naps!

He likes laying down on the grass and feeling the sun shine down on him most, but that comes with the risk of getting caught in the rain so he tries to do it only when there is little chance of rainfall. Otherwise he’ll find little nooks and crannies to settle down in to sleep.

He can’t swim, and he has mild aquaphobia.

He doesn’t mind being around water, like having fun at the beach is okay, but he absolutely hates being submerged in it. (waking up to a sudden downpour when he naps outside also gives him a scare, which is why he is careful before he falls asleep in the open)

If given enough warning, and for good enough reason, he will do his best to hold back his fear to get whatever business done, but you can bet that he’ll be having phantom shivers for a long time after.

He can’t hold his breath underwater for very long, not because he doesn’t have the lung capacity, but because he quickly gets so anxious that he just can’t hold it.

After being submerged in water (whether willingly or unwillingly) Sonic prefers being surrounded by something solid. It could be anything, even a big hug is very much welcomed, but more often than not he’ll find a hole at the side of a mountain and huddle himself in it. He already has a few go to places scattered around, because unfortunately he’s had plenty of experiences being submerged in water.

It doesn’t get any easier even after all this time.

He knows that he’s considered a hero by the mass majority, and he’s come to accept it.

A Hero was something he never wanted to be, though. He just wanted to save the distressed animals at first, and found himself speeding into something he can’t just back out of now.

Not that he would want to back out, per say. He’s incapable of not stepping in if he knows that he can do something to help. And he rather be the person to stop something bad from happening than to just leave it to someone else.

But because he has saved the world multiple times by now, and became (in)famous, he knows that “Hero” is a title he can’t run from anymore. No matter what he says or what he wants, people will call him as such, and with that comes all the responsibility and expectations that he never asked for. He’s more conscious of that than he’d like to admit.

He doesn't really mind it for the most part, though. More often than not it falls in line with what he wants anyways — to stop Eggman. And if people end up shocked because he doesn’t act the way they thought he would, well, that’s on them and with no consequence to him.

He doesn’t let that title dictate his actions, either. He’ll always do what he thinks is right first and foremost. Even if the world says one way is correct, if he believes otherwise he’s doing it his way. He’s not looking for random strangers approval, nor does he particularly want it.

But, because of the title of ‘Hero’ he knows that there are some assumptions made about him. He is acutely aware that a lot of people hold him to high regard, and look up to him. And as much as he likes to think that the title of ‘Hero’ doesn’t affect him, it did change him in some ways.

It’s mostly after being called a Hero that Sonic started putting up a front

It wasn’t a conscious decision or anything, but with so many people, children especially, looking up to him with shining eyes — he found that he wants to be someone they can rely on when they are in danger. Because he’s a caring guy, and small animals and children stir up a protective side of him.

Besides, he figured that he’ll always do what he can to stop Eggman as long as the madman was trying to take over the world, so what’s the harm in letting kids think of him as this big Hero and thus feeling safe with him around?

With that it was all too easy to slip into the persona that the public already created for him.

After all, that persona didn’t come out from nowhere. It was basically just an exaggeration of his already there carefree personality.

He’s generally good at understanding people, and he’ll use that to adapt himself into someone who is comforting for whoever needs it at the time. He genuinely likes being able to help people. And that’s why he’ll play into the whole Hero shtick to the extent he does.

He’d grin widely when he’s around the public, and play off any injury that he suffered. He’d pretend that he wasn’t exhausted after a grueling battle, and that nothing bothered him.

He doesn’t mind ‘breaking character’ if the public gets too much — again, he won’t sacrifice his principles just to live up to other people’s expectations. He’ll do what he believes to be right in the end, but the ‘cool guy who is unbothered by anything’ persona just became so incredibly easy to play.

It’s become a part of who he is, now. That facet of his personality is what he shows the most readily, hiding anything else behind it. He’s always been fond of inserting humour whenever he could to lighten up a situation and cheer someone up, but now he does it to distract people from noticing that anything is wrong. It’s become an unhealthy coping mechanism, but Sonic isn’t about to tell anyone that.

He’d gladly accept any physical help (like in battle), but emotional help is harder for him to welcome.

Again, it comes with the Hero persona he fell into. He’s gotten so used to pretending that nothing is wrong that he sometimes believes it himself that all is fine.

It’s been okay for the most part so far, (as ‘okay’ as emotional suppression can be). He got buy on being able to rewind after any big battle, being surrounded by his friends, and being able to have fun on his own terms.

However, with being captured for six months (Sonic Forces) and knowing deep down that the metal virus outbreak was his fault (IDW comics), it’s a lot harder for Sonic to trick himself into thinking everything is okay.

He’ll still do what he can to fool other people, though.

But, all that said and done, it isn’t like it’s ALL an act.

Down to the core, Sonic is still that fun loving guy. If you were to pull a Shadow and ask Sonic what he is now, he would still answer the same. That he’s ‘just a guy who loves adventure.’ Because it’s still true. He’s very good at living in the moment and making the most out of any situation. And at the end of the day, Sonic just does what he believes in and he has fun along the way.

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