#also she wears a compression sleeve because I wear a compression sleeve because running absolutely fucks up my shins

[grooviestsadpapaya]

I finally made a zora sona!! She’s lowkey kind of a conspiracy theorist. Not the insane kind but the silly kind. But I need another Zora oc and thought it would be cute if she was based on a dumbo octopus

Maybe I’ll draw her like an SOH zora one day but for now she is Soft and Botw <3

[roylustang]

Okay here’s a fun summary of my weekend in which I did not sleep

Saturday 3am: wake up

4am: drive to race venue

5am: Evan starts the race, I go back to my car and sleep for 3 more hours. I never really fell fully asleep but it did feel very rejuvenating so I’m fine with it.

8:30am - 8:30pm: Evan’s sister and I crew Evan for the first 50 miles of the race and watch the other races unfold. Lin Chen, who I first heard about in a podcast hardly a week ago wins the 100k race outright. She’s gonna get top 10 in western states later this month EASY—this was a training run for her. Actually first and second place in the 100k overall were women which is awesome. I eat spaghetti with my hands. Among many other things. A gopher pokes his head out of his little gopher hole for a little bit, he’s cute. An hour later a 3+ foot long gopher snake slithers through our tent, which Evan’s sister is terrified of. Someone saw a bear on course. Actually the guy who saw the bear was talking about it to someone on the phone while I was eating rice by my car. I get my shit together to pace Evan.

8:30pm: The sun has set but there’s still a little bit of light out and I set out to run with Evan for the next 38.5 miles (~62 kilometers). I’m fucking pumped. We have both severely underestimated the course.

9:30pm: we set up Pig Farm Hill, which is very steep and decorated with little plastic pigs (like rubber ducks). I’m still pumped and I feel prepared bc I just ran 34,000ft/10,000m+ of elevation last month.

11pm: we go up the second steep, long climb of the course. I will later conclude climbing is much easier at night simply for the fact you cannot see how much farther you have left to go. There’s also funny signs that say shit like “you’re not there yet! :(“ and “John 3:16” which is apparently a meme making fun of Christian white girls. There’s also direct action propaganda that says “Make [name of race] a Western States qualifier” bc the race director for western states is running the race.

Sunday 12am: Evan and I are on a road section of the course. It’s pitch black outside, obviously, no moon, but we have headlamps. I look up into the cliff face and see something very reflective. I pray it is a course marker up a switchback but I know in my heart it is not. It’s a pair of eyes watching us. Evan turns his headlamp up brighter and it is in fact a juvenile mountain lion. We attempt to be loud but it seems unfazed. We back away slowly watching it the entire time until it is out of sight, checking back into the void behind us occasionally just in case.

1am: I am plagued by the reflective eyes of creatures in the forest for the remainder of the night. The second pair of eyes we see I immediately think “jackal”, and I’ll find out later Evan also thinks this even though that doesn’t make sense because we’re in California. Upon further research later we conclude it is a bobcat. There is also a deer, very close. All of these creatures are watching us as we pass through like they think we can’t see them. But all we can see are their eyes and it’s fucking terrifying. Also if I didn’t know bullfrogs sounded like that I’d be sprinting. And we hear a gunshot somewhere in the distance (some coyotes attacked some dogs somewhere, we’ll find out later)

1:30am: we’re almost done with the 13.5 mile loop, and I eat absolute shit on some rocks. Both my knees are bruised, one is skinned to shit (I was wearing a compression sleeve on the other) as is one of my hands, but I’m bleeding in three places. Also, because I tripped on a slight downhill, the force of my fall flipped me onto my side, almost my back, so I also have bruises and scrapes on my arm and shoulder which I won’t realize for another 12 hours. I’m kind of amazed I didn’t scrape my face on the ground. All of this stings like a motherfucker but I get up quick and we run back to tent city. Also I am spared some bc the part of my knee I scraped did not cross over the part of the knee I scraped when I ate shit the week previous. All of this still stings even now on Monday bc scabs are trying to form on very bendable parts of my body.

2am: we set out on the 11.5 mile loop. We’re trying to finish the first (for me) 25 miles before the sun rises so we don’t have to climb up Pig Farm Hill again in the heat of the day. I change into a long sleeve sun shirt bc it’s getting cold and it might protect my hands if I fall again.

2am-3am: we do the Creek Crossings. All of them are complete shit. Some of them are more the ponds, but the only thing there is to cross them are thin wooden boards that aren’t attached to anything. It’s pretty pointless. Our feet are soaked and covered in mud. This section of the course is otherwise much flatter but this fucking sucks so I’m not doing this one again. I’d much rather climb another like 3,000 feet than deal with this shit. Otherwise this section is rather uneventful. Evan and I are both pretty tired though so we’re not really talking anymore.

5:30am: we make it back to tent city just as daylight breaks. We completed our first goal. Evan takes some time at tent city. I’m very slowly eating a palm-sized, 300 calorie PB&J some aid station volunteers gave us, but I know my guts are turning. Also my calf feels really weird. I eat about half of it and stick the other half completely unwrapped in my pack. Fuck it.

I should also mention the entire time Evan and I are peeing like crazy. Like every other mile. We always pee together to conserve time. At some point I feel like all the water I’m drinking is only being used to make me pee.

5:45am: we leave to do the 13.5 mile loop again for the last time. I poop like 5 times. I can’t really eat anything anymore (without pooping) but we’re also not really running anymore either, so I’m not worried bc I’m good at fat oxidization. I say I’m not going to eat anymore but I do anyway bc the allure of capri suns and sour candy at the aid stations compel me. Those things surprisingly don’t make me poop.

7am: we make it to the top of Pig Farm Hill again. Evan sits down to take off his shirt bc it’s starting to get warm. As he does so, a group of trail runners/hikers and their husky come up the trail. I’m so ecstatic I don’t ask to pet their dog and just do it because I need the morale boost. Evan gets his shirt on and is immediately licked all over his face. This is great.

8am: I am starting to fall behind as a pacer bc Evan is a fucking beast on the climbs and at this point I have only gone this far one other time in my life. My quads are trashed. I’m also going slightly insane with sleep deprivation bc I haven’t slept in at least 24 hours. I am talking half to Evan half to myself about just really stupid shit i don’t even really remember.

8:30am: we’re back on the switchback climb which sucks now because I can see it. Evan takes a break and I pick a 3 foot tall dandelion and hold it over my head like a balloon for morale. I do that for like a mile before the stem flops over and then I put it in my pack instead. The seeds are slowly being blown away as we go and I’m emotionally attached to it now in my sleep deprivation. It seems sad but I convince myself it’s a good thing bc this dandelions seeds are literally being spread over miles. It’s arguably the most successful dandelion that’s ever existed.

10am: I squat down to pee at mile 37 and pull a muscle in my quad when I stand back up bc they’re so thrashed. Men have it so easy. Regardless, we make it back to tent city with no problem on my end and now Evan is surely going to finish, he just has to do the 11.5 mile loop one more time. And I’m done pacing.

After that, I get some ice for my quad and take an ibuprofen and try not to move. My leg didn’t really hurt the last mile back but now it really hurts to bend or straighten it completely and even the slightest downhill is a pain. Miraculously it feels completely fine today, but it is tender to the touch and I can’t stretch it. I immediately become less insane upon sitting down for like 20 minutes. Evan’s sister loves the fact that one of our tent neighbors DNF’ed. He signed up for the hundred miler despite having only ever run a half marathon because his girlfriend does them and “if she can do it then so can he”. He drops at mile 30. She wins the race. We’re all cackling.

3:30pm: Evan finishes the race and we fuck around (re: rest) for little bit before packing up the tent and shit. I’m driven back to my car which is only like 1/3rd of a mile away bc ouch.

5pm: we go to dinner bc we obviously need food. I’ve burned 6,000 calories. I ran with Evan for 14 hours. That’s the longest I’ve ever run time-wise. All of these stats indicate to my body that I’ve just completed a 100 kilometer effort despite only going 62 kilometers (with 6,300 feet of elevation). And also it feels like it, though my legs don’t hurt as much as the first time I ran 100km (#experience).

7:30pm: we drop Evans sister off at the airport. I am having an out of body experience in the passenger seat and fall asleep for 10 minutes. The sun is setting again and I’m losing my mind.

9:30pm: we get back to the motel and blessedly pass the fuck out for the next 12 hours, tired, sore, and beaten, but victorious for the first time in almost a year. Trauma has finally been resolved. Hallelujah.

[bold-writing]

The One With Whiskey Eyes || 9 || Precious Porcelain, Cracked and Broken

Warnings: Violence, Swearing, Threats.

Words: 3600+

Previous || Next

~9~

Iris and Barry emailed back and forth a few more times over Sunday, usually short and sweet since he was at work and Iris didn’t want to distract him from his job. Luke had surprised her with an email later in the day, saying that he’d bugged Barry into giving him her email address with a wink emoji at the end of the sentence. She’d just shaken her head with a smile as she pulled out some food for a simple dinner.

 She had started her Monday with a positive outlook, having gotten much better sleeps the past couple of nights and therefore back on her game when she stepped into work. Emailing Barry and Luke had been one of the first things that she had done in the morning, somehow feeling right at home with the new addition to her routine.

 The first couple of hours had gone smoothly, and Iris had been relieved to be back in her element with something to do with her time. Her coworkers were especially happy to have her back, thinking that she was going to go back to her usual routine of taking any and all hours that she could get her hands on; instead, she’d called the owner that morning and had discussed getting her schedule changed to allow for more free time on weekends and maybe evenings.

They had happily agreed, since she hadn’t taken voluntary time off since she had started there.

Her day was going smooth and by the book, Iris able to get lost in her thoughts as she priced and scanned the new books they had gotten in while manning the counter. Her coworkers were among the shelves, stocking up the empty spaces and cleaning up the messes that customers left behind.

 Unfortunately, that good day didn’t last long.

 “Miss, I can’t take this book,” Iris denied as she pushed the worn novel back across the counter. “Not only do you not have your receipt, we do not even sell that here.” They hadn’t gone through the painstaking process of transferring all of their files to computer for nothing, Iris was able to search for any book title and know whether they sold it or not.

 “I lost the receipt, sorry! But I bought this book here, just last week!”

 “Well it’s in terrible condition for having been bought a week ago,” Iris answered, motioning to the heavily cracked spine, bent front page and stains along the bottom corner. “We have strict rules here; you must return the book, with your receipt, within fourteen days of purchase.” Iris motioned to the taped up sign that was located just over Iris’s right shoulder, stating the rules that Iris had just said.

 “I would like to talk to your manager,” the woman finally demanded with a deep scowl. She was several inches taller than Iris on flat ground, and she was now wearing four inch heels that made her absolutely tower over the younger woman.

 “Hi,” Iris smiled back, remaining firmly rooted in place as she gave a small wave���almost, but not quiet, mockingly.

 The woman’s face morphed into a livid frown before she snatched the book from the counter and turned on heel so fast that Iris was surprised she hadn’t spun right off her heels. She watched the woman leave, allowing Iris the satisfaction of once more having been able to pull the ‘I am the manager’ card. Iris glanced over to the coworker that was stocking just a few feet away from her, hiding a grin as she tucked more books on the shelf.

 “You enjoy that too much,” she called over to Iris, amusement colour her features.

 “The look on their face is the only thing that makes being the manager worth it,” Iris answered as she resumed her work of unboxing, pricing and scanning the books to put everything in the system. “Makes you glad we put everything on a computer system a couple years ago?” she offered, getting a laugh from the younger woman as she nodded eagerly.

 “I don’t know how you stay so calm when you have people like that,” Jessica, the younger girl who had been there for nearly five years, added on as she finished with the box that Iris had given to her and moved over to collect the other one that Iris had priced for her.

 “It helps that I go into a situation like that knowing they’ll ask for…well, me.” Jessica snorted at Iris’s explanation before the two women returned to their work. Iris pulled her long braid over her shoulder in nervous habit, her eyes double checking the computer screen to make sure that the correct number of copies had been entered before she opened a new page for the next box.

 She was wearing a pair of thin black compression gloves, keeping her hands warm and protecting them from being cut up or dried out by the boxes and books, while also hiding her mark from prying eyes. Those that she worked with had gotten so accustomed to her wearing the gloves; they didn’t usually bring them up anymore. However, now and then they would make bets about whether or not it was a soulmark, and what it might say that would make her hide it.

 The next box that Iris opened was a hardcover sketchbook, one of their best-selling sketchbooks; which made her smile as Barry popped into her mind.

 She had barely tagged one book when the bell over the door signalled that someone else had entered the store. Having heard the same thing every day since she worked there, Iris didn’t even look up from the counter this time. “Welcome to Pages of the World; if you need any help just let me know!” she called from her place behind the counter while sticking another price-tag on the sketchbook.

 “Yea, you can fucking help me, brat!”

 Iris flinched while looking up from her work, the booming yell of a man charging up to the counter making her want to tuck tail and run. Women she could deal with, they always came off as less terrifying to her than men did after all these years. Even Jessica flinched behind the display she was setting up, looking between Iris and the irate man wearily.

 “Excuse me?” Iris stuttered out in surprise, unable to supress the fear that had her leaning back. There was still a counter between the two of them, but Iris couldn’t find the assurance in it.

 “You turned my wife away just because of a receipt? What the hell kinda customer service skills do you have to honestly be a manager?” Oh course it had to be the husband. Somehow, Iris figured that the couple had planned this. They would try to get a free fifteen dollars for a used book that was not from this store; if the wife’s sob story about losing the receipt didn’t work, the husband would come in and try to scare her into doing the non-existent return.

 “Ones that do not concede to liars,” Iris snapped back with more bravado than she actually felt. “The rules are clear, and I do not appreciate your immaturity with the situation; I am a grown woman, there is no need to call me a brat, sir.”

 “Clearly there is! You’re supposed to please your customers, you think I’ll ever come back here?”

 “The best thing about being the manager here is that the owner has assured me that I can refuse service to anyone that I want. I assure you, sir, I do not want you or your wife to ever come back.” Iris’s tone stayed level and calm the entire time she was speaking, not once raising to the point that it could be considered yelling.

 Beneath the counter, Iris subtly slipped off the metal bracelet that she wore around her wrist with the keys she needed for the different locks within the store. When unclipped, it was four inches of metal that held four full sized keys on the end of it. She was not opposed to swinging it at the man’s face if he tried anything.

 His face was red by the time she finished speaking, his jaw locked tight as he fixed a glare on Iris that she was sure was supposed to scare her into relenting. “Now, I will have to ask that you leave this store before I am forced to call the authorities and have you escorted out.”

 Standing behind the display, Jessica was watching the entire thing with wide eyes and a jaw close to dropping. Her manager, tiny little five foot Iris that was about one hundred pounds soaking wet, was holding her ground against a six foot tall man that looked like he could throw her with one hand. Her voice had wavered in the beginning, but then she had successfully collected herself and was able to keep her composure.

 “You go ahead and call them, but I am getting my refund!” the man roared, reaching toward the buttons on the register to Iris’s right—which was rather stupid, since none of them would open the register unless Iris actually unlocked it first.

 Similar to what she had done with Luke in the grocery store, Iris reached out and swung her chain of keys down onto the back of his hand, the man hadn’t even been able to hit a single button before he was recoiling in shock at the sharp pain that accompanied her attack. “This will be your final warning,” she almost growled out, her free hand poised over the phone.

 Majority of the employees here were woman, so the police were on speed-dial just in case ‘911’ would take too long.

 “You fucking cun-”

 He never got the chance to finish what he was saying before he was suddenly slammed down onto the counter, drawing a startled yelp from both Iris and Jessica as the women leapt backward from the sudden action. A pale hand was holding the wanna-be robber by the back of his neck, pressing his face into the polished counter with considerable force, the other hand keeping the man’s arm tight behind his back in a very uncomfortable looking angle.

 “That is not how you speak to a lady, and it’s especially not how you speak to mine.”

 Iris damn near choked on air when she heard the familiar voice, this time with a more average American accent, and looked up the pale arms that had the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, a sweatshirt left unzipped to expose an average undershirt and a necklace of some kind dipping down beneath the fabric. She stopped breathing entirely when her familiar handwriting was brought to the forefront of her attention. It was in her cursive, so she couldn’t read it from here, but there were many scattered along his forearms and another that shown at his left pectoral.

 “What the fuck, man, get off!” the man snarled, though he was still useless to fight against the newest soulmate for Iris to meet. Had it not been for the lack of accent, she would almost think that it could have been Luke, but that would have been pushing it.

 “You don’t talk to people like that, ya hear me?” he demanded while pushing the man’s face down against the counter with more force, getting an uncomfortable groan in response. “Huh?” he pressed again when no verbal response came.

 “Alright!”

 Nodding in satisfaction, her nameless soulmate hauled the man up from the desk and turned to face him with a hard glare. “You ever come back here and you’ll be dealing with me.” Iris had to strain to hear, but the threat was as clear as day. Then he shoved the man to the side, in the direction of the door he’d come through minutes before, and watched to make sure he left without touching any of the meticulously arranged displays.

 Only when he’d ran passed the store windows and disappeared from view did his bark blue eyes turn toward Iris, who had remained silently shocked from the moment he’d first slammed her would-be robber down on the desk. “You alright, doll? He didn’t hurt ya?”

 Iris opened her mouth to respond, but no sound came out. She couldn’t even think of forming words as the world suddenly went blurry around her and she could feel the heat in her cheeks as her blood fled from her already pale complexion.

 Without a word, she suddenly turned and sat on the nearby desk chair that she used while doing paperwork, the sound of rushing footsteps alerting her to someone behind the desk before Jessica’s terrified face came into view. “Iris!” she called, apparently not for the first time, and reached for the older woman’s face to feel her strikingly cold cheeks.

 Another hand against her shoulder, much larger and holding more weight behind it, drew Iris to look to her right with limp neck muscles barely keeping her head up. Barry? No, not Barry. Not Luke.

 Who?

 “It’s alright, doll, you just take your time,” he assured gently, his tone having changed drastically from when he’d first starting speaking to the other man. Even when he’d addressed Iris, he’d sounded more confident and sure, almost proud of Iris’s defense. Swallowing around a suddenly dry mouth, Iris tipped her head back in an attempt to let some cool air get to her face. She knew that to another it would feel cold with lack of blood, but she felt like she was blushing red as a tomato with how hot her cheeks were.

 Suddenly, cool air was blowing against her face gently as Iris took a moment to think through her breaths and bask in the refreshing feeling.

 “Iris? You need me to call someone?” a new voice called timidly. It was Sarah, a twenty-one year old woman who had worked for them since she was eighteen. She’d latched onto Iris immediately, since both women were naturally quiet and usually shied away from loud, extraverted situations.

 “No,” Iris breathed out softly, beginning to feel better from sitting down a moment. “Thank you, Sarah. I’ll be okay. Do you mind taking over here for a moment, though?” Opening her eyes and looking over to her young coworker, Iris was relieved to see her nodding eagerly and stepping around the counter to take Iris’s spot. “I just need some air. Come get me if you need the keys, alright?” Jessica stopped fanning her with the booklet she’d picked up, stepping back to give Iris room.

 “Take your time, okay? We’re perfectly fine on our own for a few minutes.”

 Reluctantly agreeing, Iris turned away from the other two and reached out for her new soulmate’s hand to draw him after her, toward the front entrance. The large windows had benches in front of them for the people walking by to sit, so she immediately went for one of those.

 Her soulmate followed her willingly, sitting down next to her as Iris settled down on the sun-warmed bench. “You alright, darling?” he asked quietly, keeping his tone gentle as he looked at Iris’s pale, pinched expression.

 “I’m sorry you had to see that,” she mumbled tiredly, belatedly thinking that she probably should have thought of something better to say to him for first words.

 “I’d rather I know what you’re going through than to be somewhere else and left to worry,” he answered easily, reaching out to pull her closer across the small bench. It left her pressed in against his side tightly, the warmth of his body helping her to relax somewhat. “That stuff happen often?”

 “No,” she assured immediately, shaking her head before she let it tip to the side and rest her temple against his shoulder. “People don’t usually get so…worked up. When I mention the cops they usually take off running.”

 “That guy was an asshole,” he grumbled angrily with a dark expression blanketing his features. It was not an expression she was accustomed to seeing; both Luke and Barry were more upbeat, they didn’t outwardly glare or glower. “You sure you’re alright?”

 Her mouth and throat still felt abnormally dry and her heart was racing a bit faster than usual, but she could tell that there was blood returning to her face and her hands weren’t trembling like before. “I’ll be okay. I haven’t had that happen in a long time; just got overwhelmed for a minute.” He nodded in something akin to understanding, reaching up to sooth her hair gently with a gentle, assuring touch. “So, it’d be nice to have a name for my savior?”

 He laughed under his breath at her timid tease, nodding in agreement. “That’s true. I’m BT, doll, and I’m damn glad I ignored Barry and came to see you today.”

 Iris’s answering smile was shy and she couldn’t help but to silently agree with his words. “I’m glad, too. It scares me to think what might have happened if you hadn’t intervened.” Lowering her eyes, unable to keep looking into the deep blue—they were darker than Luke’s and Barry’s, she hadn’t thought that was possible. Instead, she looked down to where his forearms were left bare from his rolled up sleeves. Her familiar scrawl was looking back at her, especially one mark that was apparently long enough that it wrapped around his wrist three times.

 A shorter one on the outside of his forearm was familiar to her; Wow, hello. Her words to Luke made her snort in amusement, reaching forward to trace the black cursive that stood out against BT’s pale skin. “It’s so strange to see my writing on someone else,” she mumbled to herself, aware that he could hear her.

 BT leaned away from her suddenly, then proceeded to pull up the side of his sweater and shirt that he was wearing to expose the left side of his torso. I’m sorry you had to see that was written across his side, starting at the base of his ribs and trailing down along to the hem of his pants.

 Her lips parted in surprise as she looked at the dark words, repressing the urge to reach out and touch them. Barry and Luke hadn’t outwardly tried to hide their skin or marks from her, but they had worn warmer clothes when she’d met them and therefore had masked any of their marks. BT was the first to wear something that exposed his marks willingly, feeling as though he had nothing to hide.

 And to go even further, he had gone ahead and pulled up his shirt to show her the words that she had just spoken to him. She was left trying to not look at the cut of his hip that proved something she’d already assumed—he was incredibly fit.

 “I…can’t show you where mine is,” she admitted softly, her cheeks warming with a blush as she remembered where BT’s mark was—curving along her left ribs, following the natural curve that was beneath her left breast.

 “Now ya got me curious,” BT teased gently, not wanting to push her too far when she was still clearly shaken from what had happened. His smile softened as he straightened his shirt and shuffled her closer to him again, returning her to her place pressed against his side. “I don’t wanna leave ya here alone; feels wrong after that.”

 He motioned with his thumb in the direction that the guy had run off, probably hopping into a car that his wife was still waiting in. “I’m not alone,” Iris argued tiredly. “There’s three other people working today, and it’s just a simple bookstore. Things like that never really happen. I do get the odd person who tries to trick us by bringing in some used book for a return, but that guy was…determined.”

 “Is it all girls in there? Because no offense to you all defending yourselves, but I doubt anyone’s gunna be intimidated by four short girls trying not to let him rob the place.”

 “We have David in as well,” she assured. “He’s closing today, because I opened the store.”

 BT seemed to relax slightly as he nodded in understanding, a thoughtful look on his face as he pondered for a moment. “When do you get off? I’ll come get ya!”

 Iris wanted to stop him, to deny him from interrupting his schedule for her, but she already knew that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “I finish at four today; come here around quarter after?”

 “You got it, doll.” BT leant forward suddenly to smack a kiss against the side of her head in assurance. “I’ve gotta get going, though. Barry’s already gunna be pissed if he finds out that I came here…well, more like when he finds out. Barry knows freaking everything.”

 Iris stood up with BT, already feeling a thousand times better after she’d had some time to get fresh air. “Thanks for your help, BT. I’m definitely glad you came here when you did.” BT grinned broadly before he reached out to snatch her up, pulling her against him abruptly in a near bone-crushing hug. She was jarred for a moment before she returned his embrace and hugged him back, revelling in the warmth that he emitted. “I’ll see you after four.”

 She backed away from him reluctantly, smiling shyly as she trailed her hand along the covered mark on his left side. BT smirked back, knowing what she was doing, as he nodded his affirmative. “Sure thing, doll. I’ll be waiting out here for you, a’right?”

 “Deal.”

Previous || Next

[pa-panda-heroes]

How’s about hugging the LoV!! or or OR LoV with a cuddly s/o (・∀・)

Anoni, you sent this over a month ago ;;n;; I’m so sorry!! I haven’t even touched tumblr lately OTL

So, how’s about hugging the LOV because I want to hug them and tell them everything’s gonna be okay :’> and because I need someone to hug me and tell me everything’s gonna okay

~🐼

Hugging the LOV!

Tomura:

First off, you can’t tell me this boy isn’t touch- and affection-starved.

If you try to hug him outright when you join the League, he’ll straight up decay your ass.

But if you wait a bit and he starts to coddle up to you... he’ll only threaten to decay you and grumble while you’re wrapped around him.

Also he’s super bony.

He’s pretty thin-statured anyway, right, but when you hug him, it almost feels like you can feel every bone in his body. So sometimes he’ll kinda push you off because surely, that’s not comfortable!

He’s afraid of touching you or returning your hugs most of the time because of his quirk. Which kinda eats him alive. You get to coo and coddle him like the sweet thing you are, and he can’t return the favor. What the hell?!

You’re too good for him, he thinks, so romancing him is no easy deal and has to be done entirely through physical affection (when he allows it) and following him as leader. You gotta trust him with everything you have before he’ll trust (or touch) you.

Most of your hugging happens when no one else is around. He’s the leader, he has to retain respect, after all. But like I said, he’s touch-starved, so he secretly can’t get enough of your hugs and will revel in them.

When he’s feeling down and lonely, you’re the first to know. It doesn’t matter what kind of relationship you have. He’ll show up to your room at 4 in the morning and pound on your door to wake you up, he doesn’t care. Hug him and give him attention, damn it! Love him.

Loves it when you pat his head while you’re hugging him. Treasures it. If you stop suddenly and bring your hand down or something, this man will literally grab your wrist with his thumb and middle finger and plop your hand back on his head.

And if you run your fingers through his hair? He is mush and he will not hesitate to shove his face into your chest to hide the blush.

Mr. Compress

So, this is probably odd, but I can see Mr. Compress being the “dad” of the group I’m sorry Twice but you’re the mom, bud. I really don’t know why

So, if you hug him outright upon meeting him, he won’t exactly like it, but he won’t try to kill you like Tomura. Maybe he’ll give a little pat on your shoulder and an awkward comment to try to get you leave him be.

He is an entertainer, though, so if you hug because you enjoyed one of his tricks? Well, he won’t mind at all and have no fear, dear, he has more up his sleeve!

Definitely gives the kind of hugs where he gives a good pat on your back with one hand and if he’s close to you, cradles your head in the other!

He’s the only member of the LoV who wears a hat, so you gotta be careful not to knock it off his head. If you do, he’ll probably just laugh it off and spin it on his finger or some other neat trick! If he really likes you he’ll plop it on your head!

One of his favorite things to do while he’s hugging you is plop stuff in your hair or in your clothes (like pockets, etc.) to see how long it takes you - or the other members - to notice. Or, he’ll pull stuff from said areas and show it off to you.

Probably the most open out of the whole league to hugging you when you’re feeling bad. You’ll have to go up to him, though, and give some sort of signal that you want a hug.

For some reason, I see Compress as being the only League member to actually wear cologne, so be prepared to smell it! It probably won’t be anything expensive, but it’ll be there.

Thinks it absolutely adorable if you wrap your arms around his neck from his side and just... hang there. That’s one of the quickest ways to get him to fall for ya!

Himiko:

Suuuper huggy herself, although she’d be very confused if you hug her outright while meeting her. Might try to stab you if you do.

But once she warms up to you? She’s constantly hanging off you in a hug. It doesn’t matter what kind of background or relationship with her you have. She’s pretty much always touching you in some way.

If you’re taller, she absolutely will wrap her arms around your neck and lift her feet off the ground, keeping her knees at a 90 degree angle and hanging there. If you’re shorter, though, she’ll definitely try picking you up and lifting you!

Himiko will pout and huff if you deny her a hug, and is not past begging! She’ll give you puppy dog eyes and all! Might even fake cry if she’s particularly clingy...

She loves to rub her cheek against yours (almost like a cat) when you hug, as a sign that she likes you and enjoys your attention. She’s really needy in that aspect.

It’s pretty easy to make her jealous if you hug someone else, but you can easily make it up to her by giving her a big ole hug immediately after. Maybe even head pats. Definitely head pats.

If you’re out on a mission and almost (or actually) get seriously hurt, she’ll rush to you when it’s safe and nearly tackle you in a hug! She literally jumps off the ground to pounce on you.

If you manage to catch this girl’s eye in a romantic way, you best be prepared for allll the hugs and cuddles. And if she sees you hugging someone she doesn’t know, well, you have to physically hold her back from trying to kill the poor sod. Which doesn’t do much. Because they usually end up either dead or hospitalized the next day, depending on your relationship with them.

Because she loves hugs so much, she doesn’t really have a favorite type of hug. But she loves to tickle you unexpectedly while you’re in a consensual armlock!

On a good day, hug her and you’ll smell cherry blossom perfume and fruits. On a bad day, well... we don’t have to talk about that.

Loves to run her arms up and down your back, almost frantically, for some reason.

Twice:

So, I think it’s safe to say Twice will go back and forth between giving out hugs all the time and not at all.

At heart he loves them, but oftentimes when he’s dealing with his trauma especially badly, it just isn’t something he can handle or really wants to do because it takes all of his energy to keep calm and not split.

Would just kinda lean away awkwardly patting your back if you latched onto him early in your career in the League. He doesn’t wanna be rude but- get offa him, you creep!

But it doesn’t take him long to warm up to you, especially if your personality is bright and cheery.

He thinks the League needs someone like that and welcomes you with open arms.

Honestly doesn’t know his own strength and about 87.99% of his hugs are almost bone crushing but bone crushing with a good heart so you honestly can’t hold it against him especially when he pulls up his lower lip in a pout of apology

Do you like getting tossed into the air and spun around like a rag doll when getting a hug? Because hugging Twice is how you get tossed into the air and spun around like a rag doll when getting a hug.

Although, his favorite hugs are the ones from behind.

When he’s feeling particularly down, a quiet hug is the best way to pick him up!

Deadass he would measure you with the false idea of “just in case” he ever needs to make a clone of you for combat reasons, but it’s actually for when he wants a hug from you and you’re not around because he’s just kinda bashful like that sometimes.

If you’re really close, even dating, I think he’d rarely let you see him without his mask. He’s just afraid, it’s not that he doesn’t trust you in some way.

But if you manage to convince him to take it off and actually help him cope even a little, he’ll never let you go. You’d mean too much to him by then.

Dabi:

Absolutely do not try hugging him so early in your joining the League. He won’t threaten to set you on fire, he’ll actually fuckin’ do it.

Even if you banter sarcastically and bitch at one another and you’re overall his type to get along with, it will take him a long time to even get to the point of letting you put a finger on him.

So firstly, you have to ease him into the idea of hugging. Start with something small like standing closer to him than normal, then move to affectionately squeezing his arm. He won’t like it and might nag at you, but he won’t try to barbecue you for it! That’s too small of an interaction and he honestly is too lazy to do anything about it.

Besides, even if he doesn’t know it right then, he doesn’t entirely mind it. He’s gonna keep you at arms’ length, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to, literally.

When you finally upgrade to full-on hugs, he loves it when you bury your nose into his neck. It doesn’t always feel great because of his sensitive skin there, but it’s a cute gesture, he thinks.

Of course, he will ruin it with a snarky or suggestive comment accompanied by a smirk. The horndog.

And god help you if you manage to romance him.

Every time you hug him, he’ll slip his hands into your back pockets if you have any, and if you don’t? They go straight underneath whatever you’re wearing and directly to your underwear - or, if he’s particularly frisky, your plump ass.

When you’re pulling away? He’ll give your ass a nice little pat. That’s loud. Always loud.

But, his favorite hugs are the ones where you’re straddling his lap and he gets to rest his chin on your shoulder. If you have long hair, he usually keeps his distance from it because staples but he loves to smell it, too.

When he’s feeling down, he’s the polar opposite of clingy. Good luck getting him to even tell you - in one word - what emotion he’s feeling, let alone allow you to dote on him.

He really doesn’t love seeing you hugging anyone else, so oftentimes he’ll march over and hug you from behind or something to kind of show who’s boss!

Edit: OH MY GOD I FORGOT SPINNER 😱 I am too sleep-deprived omg how could i??? @meefal thank you for reminding me 😭 I hope I made up for it

Spinner:

Spinner is awkward with hugs! He’s not really used to people hugging him because they’re either afraid his scales will hurt them, or the friction will hurt him.

So when you hug him for the first time, he’s totally awkward and shy but tries to put up a big scary front, mumbling and sputtering something about carrying on the legacy of the Hero Killer: Stain. It pretty much fails. Miserably.

Because it flusters him and he can’t really hide it! But he wants to be all tough and mighty! He’s a villain, now, after all. But he doesn’t entirely mind your hugs at first.

When he’s used to it, though, it’s the best part of his day. You hug him pretty much every time you greet him, and he loves not only your touch but the opportunity to act tough.

He absolute adores it when you cling to his arm! It makes him feel tough and gives him the feeling that he could definitely protect you - and that you trust him to do so.

Oh oh oh but don’t mess up his scarf! He’s a bit sensitive about that, and you can figure why. But otherwise, he doesn’t exactly mind it if you tease him by messing his hair or clothing. Obviously he’s gonna (fake) gripe at you for it.

I’d imagine his body temperature is lower than normal, so he’d be really cool to the touch.

If you manage to romance him, like Dabi, he’d be pretty possessive and love showing you off by letting you like onto him at any given chance.

Like I said before, he loves it when you cling to his arm, but he also loves it when you hug him from behind. It makes him feel sheltered and loved, for some reason.

When he’s feeling low or weak, he’ll definitely rest his forehead on your shoulder, arms hanging at his sides, trying to coax you into cradling him and just holding him.

[pizzas-will-rule-the-world]

hiiIiIiIiIIiIIiIIII umm??? your stories water my face and cleans my plants ❤✨✨ can you do 23 in sprace? ✨✨

Ahhh thank you so much, sorry this took so long!

23. “Sorry I can’t make it tonight.” “Why not?” “I got stabbed and I’m on my way to the hospital.” 

Spot never considered himself a very patient person up until a few months ago. It hadn’t been a conscious change, or a change he necessarily had planned, but something that had happened so gradually he didn’t notice at first. The reason for this strange development was, like so many things in Spot’s life, because of Racetrack Higgins. Dating Race kind of came with the understanding that you’d need the same patience as when you’re babysitting a five-year old. Spot knew that, even if he didn’t always like it. More often than not his life circulated around whatever idiotic thing his boyfriend had gotten himself into this time. Once it had been getting stuck in a tree at four o’clock in the morning, and another time he had locked himself into his own bathroom (How he had managed that one was still a mystery to Spot). 

But despite him getting used to - and even growing to find the humour in - his boyfriend’s shenanigans, Spot wasn’t always ready for them. Tonight was an excellent example of that. It had been supposed to be a calm and uneventful night for the two of them, in which the most exciting thing should have been trying out a new take-out place. Spot was in the moment everything went to shit standing alone in his kitchen reading a menu from said take-out place. His phone rang.

“Hey, Higgins,” he greeted, holding his phone between his ear and shoulder to continue flipping through the menu. “I was just gonna call. Are you feeling more for pad thai or spring rolls? They also have some vegetarian dishes that seem pretty-”

“Sorry, I can’t make it tonight.”

Spot lowered his hand with the menu. “Why not?” he asked, trying his hardest to keep the disappointment from sipping into his voice. It had been almost two weeks since the two of them had a whole night to themselves, without their friends around. Spot had been looking forward to it for days, even if he’d never tell Race that. 

Race’s voice was a bit wobbly when he answered. “I got stabbed and I’m on my way to the hospital.”

This is the moment the night turned from enjoyable and laid-back, to straight up terrifying. And Spot hadn’t been ready for it. Which resulted in not only the feeling of his heart stopping for a moment, but also him dropping the menu on the floor. It slid across the tiles until it came to a stop under the sink. “You what?”

“But I’m okay!”

In the background Spot could hear some curses coming from someone who was decidedly not Race, and something that sounded suspiciously close to a car swerving to avoid hitting something. “The hell you are,” Spot exclaimed and all but ran to grab his jacket. “What happened? Who are you with? And what hospital are you going to?”

“Bellevue hospital. I’m with Jack, he’s- Hey, watch the fucking road, Kelly! We don’t need a car crash on top of this! Sorry babe, I’m back. Yeah, like I said, I’m fine, there’s absolutely nothing to worry about, and you definitely do not have to come to the hospital.”

“Too late,” Spot said as he dashed down the flights of stairs to get to the entrance floor. “Tell me what happened.”

“Funny story,” Race said. Spot doubted he would agree. “Turns out, big shock, that Jack Kelly is a big dumbass who can’t handle a kitchen knife at all.”

There were more swearing in the background, but Spot’s brain ignored it like it was white noise. “Are you bleeding a lot?”

“Uh, I have a compression on, let me check-”

“Don’t fucking check, what the fuck Race!” Spot exclaimed and felt his heart do somersaults in his chest. He clenched his fist and then forced himself to relax. “Jesus fucking christ, you’re gonna be the death of me.” He almost choked when he realized what he just had said. “I mean… Uh, where did he...?”

“In the shoulder, or, well, upper arm. It’s not deep, but it was bleeding a lot, so we figured…”

Spot nodded even though Race couldn’t see him. “Yeah, of course, good. How are you feeling?” 

“Uh, okay, to be honest. A bit… What’s the word? Faint?”

“That makes sense, if you’re losing blood. Get me Jack on the phone, will you? You shouldn’t strain yourself.” He hailed a cab and got in quickly, telling the driver to drive to Bellevue Hospital as fast as possible. There was a shuffling on the phone as Race let Jack take over the call. 

“Yeah, hey Spot.”

“You fucking idiot, you walking disaster, what the actual fuck, Kelly.”

Jack sounded like he spoke through clenched teeth. “Yeah, thanks, I know.”

“If he gets seriously hurt because of this, I will hunt you down. Don’t think I won’t.”

Jack sounded impatient. “I know. I’m pulling up to the hospital in a minute. You meeting us here?”

“Of course, I’m in a cab. Try not to run someone over, okay? And keep pressure on the wound.”

Then he hung up without saying goodbye and forced himself to not follow his instinct to throw the phone out of the half-opened car window. He pressed his eyes closed and put his head between his legs. He couldn’t breathe. His shoulders were shaking. There wasn’t enough oxygen in the car. Darkness pressed around him, only adding onto the feeling of choking, until Spot sat up with a gasp and forced himself to open his eyes. 

He felt the taxi driver’s gaze on him, and then how the car picked up speed. 

The car ride felt as if took hours and not the mere twenty minutes that was the reality. Every second that passed brought another wave of anxiety to wash over Spot, making his thoughts dizzy and skin to crawl. He tried to focus on small details to not drown in his feelings. The leather of the seat in front of him was old and dried up. The window felt cool when he placed his cheek against it The trees passing by blurred together in a mass of green and brown. Street lights shone into the car at a steady pace.

He handed some bills to the driver and shoot out of the car as soon as it stopped outside of the massive, white building.

The emergency room was large and filled with beds and people. It smelled like fear and panic, and something else that Spot feared was the smell of death. He forced down a new wave of nausea.

 A short, plump nurse with a high ponytail and a kind face checked a couple of papers as Spot stood and drummed his pointy finger on the reception. It took only a minute until she smiled at him and pointed towards a bed in the back of the emergency room. Spot barely remembered to nod politely and thank her before he dashed across the room. 

Race’s face was scrunched up and looked red from the strain, but he was sitting up the bed. A middle aged doctor was sitting on a stool beside him, speaking calmly as she stitched Race’s upper arm. Jack was standing at the foot of the bed watching his friend, a tightly clenched fist covering his mouth. There were stains of dark red on the sleeves of his hoodie. His face - or, what was visible of it - was a ashen shade. 

When Spot halted at the bed, Race looked up. His face split up into a grin and he made as if to move or even stand up, but grimaced and relaxed against the pillow as he noted the doctor beside him and realized it wouldn’t end well. “Hey, Spotty,” he mumbled instead and grinned even wider. “I’m high.”

The doctor smiled at him and then glanced up at Spot. “Hello. Spot, was it? Anthony hasn’t stopped talking about you. Boyfriend, I assume?”

“Yeah,” Spot said and moved so he was standing beside the bed. He brushed a finger over Race’s forehead, just to make sure he was actually there, and then threaded through his hair. It was matted with sweat. 

Jack coughed and dragged his hand over his mouth. “I’ll…” he took a deep breath. “I’ll get us some coffee.” 

Spot barely acknowledged him as he left. “How is he?” he asked the doctor, who had gone back to the stitches. 

“He’ll be fine. It was a minor wound, considering. I have a couple of more stitches to do, but then it’s only a matter of letting the drugs wear off.” 

Race pushed his head into Spot’s hand, silently asking for more touching. “I’m high,” he repeated, and Spot let out a laugh without meaning to. He clamped a hand over his mouth. The doctor must have noticed the horrified look on his face, because she smiled kindly.

“It’s normal to laugh when you have been under stress. If you ask one of the nurses, I’m sure they can show you where you can find some water and a place to sit. I’m afraid it’ll be at least another hour before Anthony can go home.”

The idea of leaving the bed even for a second was so foreign to Spot that he almost laughed again. “No. Thank you, but I don’t mind waiting.” 

She nodded. “Okay, that’s fine.” She smiled at him. “It’s nice to see that you care so much.”

“Yeah, he loves me,” Race muttered in a low, sing-song voice and tried to turn his head so he could kiss Spot’s palm. “And I loooove him.”

“That’s nice,” the doctor said and rose from her seat. “I’m all done. I’ll send a nurse over in a while to check on him.”

“Thank you,” Spot said and sank down into the chair she just abandoned. When he left he turned to Race, who looked very pleased with the prospect of being alone with Spot. “You’re such an idiot.”

“What did I do?” Race asked, furrowing his eyebrows as if he was trying really hard to understand what he had fucked up this time. 

Spot let out a breathy laugh and leaned down to place a soft kiss on his forehead. “You missed our date, for one. You owe me take-out.”

Race nodded seriously. “I’ll buy you take-out now if you want.”

“I don’t think the doctors would like that.”

He pouted. “Mean.”

“Hey, they’re the ones sewing you closed after you got yourself stabbed. Show some respect.”

Race snorted and nodded before letting his head fall back against the pillow. “Yeah, yeah.” He had a slightly hazy look in his eyes. As Spot stroked his forehead, he sank down deeper and deeper into the pillow. “I’m sleepy.”

“Go to sleep, then.”

He nodded and then yawned. “Smart.” He looked up at Spot. “Will you stay?”

Spot took his hand in his and brought it up to his lips. His whole body ached in a way that was far to painful for it to only be physical. It was a hurt only the brain could cause, strong and powerful enough to make him forget trivial things as his own name, or breathing. Nothing else mattered except the fact that Race was okay, that he would be all right. Spot blinked away the tears, because high or not, Race would never let him forget him actually crying beside his hospital bed. He kissed Race’s hand again, and then once more. “Of course I’ll stay. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

***

TAGLIST

@mckpricely

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@fanfictionrecommendations-com

@lifeform-42

@yaboigrass

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@jan-jan-jan-jan-jan-199

@thats-our-que-boys

@spotrash

@theprincelypariah-blog

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@uiopp11-blog

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[bakusquadup]

Same anon as before!! Some detailed descriptions of them would be absolutely awesome if you wouldn’t mind!! :D

Hey friend! I’m happy to provide some descriptions for you! All of them are under the cut.

Onishi and Yamamoto are at the top of the list because you mentioned them last time, but I included everyone else in PP just so I could have all the info in one place (it’s kinda a lot of characters, sorry). I still can’t believe anybody would consider drawing them 😭 Enjoy, I guess?

-Shelley

Just a note: I’m using feet and inches here because I’m more used to it, but obviously everything would translate to centimeters because most of them are Japanese

Onishi Tokito (aka RedBolt)

Body: SMOL boy. He’s not even five feet and yet he is full of rage (he’s about 4′10″, but tells people he’s 5′0″). And even though he’s small, he does have three years of UA hero courses under his belt and has enough muscle to get by. He has crimson red skin

Features: His hair is a slightly darker shade of red than his skin and his eyes are a slightly lighter shade of red and seem to glow slightly (they also reflect light like animal eyes). His hair is mid-length and shaggy, curling up at the ends naturally, but he will sometimes spike it up into a mohawk just because he thinks it looks cool (it doesn’t) and makes him taller. His eyes are wide and rounded, which makes him look younger than he is

Personality: He’s incredibly high-energy and is usually stuck in one of two moods: angry/bitter or smug/sarcastic, so he’s either smirking or frowning all the time. On the rare occassion that he genuinely smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkle up and he has one dimple on his left side. He has a big sense of pride and likes to pick on others when he does better than them, but despises having the favor returned

Hero Costume: A baggy black jumpsuit that cuffs at the bottom like a pair of joggers and has a sleeveless top. He wears a thick red belt around his hips with small bags hanging off that hold small metal items (like screws and washers) and hand cream (because his hands dry out from using his quirk too much). In the colder months, he throws his favorite zip-up sweatshirt over top of the costume (it’s also red, he really likes red)

Quirk: “Red Lightning.” The true nature of his quick is hard to pin down, as it has the thin, branching sparks of electricity and its shocking capabilities, but it is a pale red and it seems to flow like a liquid. He’s speculated that it’s a combination of lava and electricity, but he doesn’t really care enough to figure it out

Other Info: He gets super competitive, even with things that he knows he’s bad at, so he’s known to cheat at any competition that he feels he needs to. He’s probably only ever said sorry twice in his life

Yamamoto Kei (aka Midas)

Body: Super tall and lanky. He stands at about 6'6", but he also hunches, so it’s more like 6'8" when his posture is good. He’s a certified bean pole that shot up in first year of high school, but never gained the weight to fill out his frame. He’s so pale, his skin seems to be transparent sometimes

Features: He has two different colored eyes, which are slanted and narrow. His right eye is gold, which is his natural color and the other is a muted brown. The brown eye is a piece of tech that a support company built for him when he lost his left eye in second year during finals. There is a thick pink scar running around the outside of his left eye, which he likes to show off because he thinks it’s badass. His hair is just above chin length, dark brown (almost black), and perfectly straight. His fringe covers his gold eye because he likes to hide it and he can see better out of the artificial eye

Personality: Yamamoto is pretty low-key most of the time. He speaks in a low voice and really only contributes to conversation when he feels he has something worth saying (although, sometimes those important topics are just a dumb meme). The only one that’s able to really rile him up is Onishi because he draws out Yamamoto’s competitiveness. He does have a slight wild streak as he loves anything thrilling and may act a little crazy when it comes to seeking those things out

Hero Costume: He wears many separate items so if he needs to solidify one of them with his quirk, not everything solidifies right away, limiting his mobility. Has loose black shorts with thick gold stripes that run down the outside of his legs. Under that, he wears black compression sleeves with two royal blue stripes and one thinner gold stripe between them. The compression sleeves are tucked into knee-high black boots with fabric soles to allow him to slide on smooth surfaces, but sometimes they will appear gold when he needs to activate his quirk on them (the weight it great for kicking enemies!). On top, he wears a matching black tank top with the same gold stripes. He has a royal blue belt that clips around his waist with a gold buckle shaped like a crown. He also wears the same compression sleeves on his arms and a pair of royal blue fingerless gloves

Quirk: “Golden Touch.” Pretty much self-explanatory. He is able to turn the things he touches into gold (any part of his body, not just his hands), but it acts more like a golden shell rather than solid gold. He can also remove the gold whenever he wants without injuring a living thing inside it. If he keeps his quirk activated, it will not only solidify the thing he is directly touching, but whatever that item is touching as well. For example, if someone grabs his jacket sleeve, he will solidify his jacket and then eventually the person holding him (although, he tries to avoid this because his clothes become much heavier). He can use this to skate along the ground by creating a path on the ground and sliding with his specially-designed boots

Other Info: He will sometimes pin his hair up during hero training because of its length (he doesn’t like the sensation of it flopping around while he’s running). Because of this, he always has bobby pins in his pockets and the girls have started going to him if they need some

Amy Coleman (aka Oracole)

Body: Tall and lean. She’s just under 6′0″ and has a dancer’s frame with long limbs and toned muscles. She has naturally tan skin, but does not tan more if she’s out in the sun, only freckles a little

Features: She has white-blond hair that previous went down to her waist and is naturally straight. She would wear it in a tight ponytail, until it got singed off by Endeavor. It is now chin-length, so she curls it in the morning to get a wavy texture and more volume. Her eyes are piercing ice blue and angle down on the outside. Her brows are darker than her hair, closer to dirty blond. She has a spattering of very faint freckles across her nose

Personality: She’s very outgoing and loud; always willing to make a friend and needs to know what’s going on at all times (basically, a typical American). This can often be her downfall, as she ends up as somewhat of a gossip. She feels that any information she gained without the help of her quirk is fair game for her to talk about. She’s generally high-energy and gets riled-up easily, except when she is using her quirk, in which case she makes a complete 180

Hero Costume: She wears a dark teal fitted jumpsuit with a high neck, ¾ sleeves, and white white piping that runs up her limps and down the center of her torso. Over top of it, she wears a black corset-like/belt thing around her ribcage. It’s wide and has two clasps that hang down and connect to the bags strapped around her legs (also black). She wears black, steel-toed combat boots on her feet that her father bought her from an army-navy surplus store back in the U.S.

Quirk: “Third Eye.” When her quirk is activated, she gains the ability to see into the future or events that are currently happening for which, she is not present. She does not use it to see far into the future and it tends to get unreliable and multiple possibilities arise, but she will use it for events within a couple minutes to allow for preparedness when fighting. She also uses it to keep an eye on her teammates in the middle of a training session. No, she does not use it to cheat on exams

Other Info: Whenever she gets too excited, her American accent becomes more pronounced and she starts making grammar mistakes. Her accent is always a little present, but it becomes much worse. She will also occassionally swear in English (Onishi has started picking up on them and copying her)

Suzuki Youta (aka Umbra)

Body: He’s about average at 5′7″. He has some muscle, but he’s also on the scrawnier side because he relies on his quirk most of the time. He hasn’t built up the bulk that some hand-to-hand fighters have. His skin is pitch black, so it’s sometimes hard to see his features unless in direct light

Features: His hair and whites of his eyes are also black, but because they aren’t matte like his skin, they reflect light and are a little easier to see. His hair is short on the sides and a little longer on top, puffing up when it gets frizzy. It’s difficult to discern his appearance head-on without pointing a light directly at his face, but he has narrow eyes with monolids and a rounded nose. When looking at him from the side or back, he just appears to be a silhouette 

Personality: Suzuki is a man of few words, speaking very little except to Inoue and choosing his words very carefully. He has a keen eye for detail and analysis, so he is very good at determining someone’s weakness and how to take them down or make them improve. For this reason, he is often sought out by classmates for training tips, but the attention makes him uncomfortable

Hero Costume: It’s literally just a jet black body suit. It has some structure to it, like bubbled-out sleeves and slouchy pants, but it’s meant to blend in with his skin. The only item he carries with him is a metal flashlight that fits into a pouch on his suit. He’s going for an aesthetic and damn, if he’s not gonna stick to it

Quirk: “Shadow Manipulation.” He can manipulate his shadow to do as he wills it, including things like grab people, holds falling structures, slide under doors to see inside the room, etc. If he is standing in the shadow of a larger object, such as a tree or something, he can control the larger object’s shadow, but only if the surrounding area is light. This means, he cannot control anything in total darkness (he’s basically useless) or on cloudy days. He needs a very defined shadow, which is why he carries a flashlight, so he can at least make a small shadow to work with. He’s best on very sunny days

Other Info: He doesn’t get very animated, except when talking to Inoue. Sometimes, classmates will sneak up to conversations between the two of them in a hopes of catching one of Suzuki’s rare smiles (his teeth are also black, don’t get too excited though)

Inoue Yumiko (aka Alchemia)

Body: 4′11″ and besides that, pretty much average in every other way. She has an average build without much muscle because she mostly relies on her quirk. She has a medium-light skintone that is more warm-toned

Features: She has cute, rounded features with a small rounded nose and wide, dark-brown eyes. Her face is very circular. She has dark brown hair with a slight wave to it that comes down to her mid-back. In comparison to her classmates, she is probably the most “ordinary” looking

Personality: Pretty much everyone likes Inoue. She is kind, smart, and humble, so most of the class likes being able to work with her on anything. She has a tendency to be indecisive, which is unideal for hero work, and she sometimes has a hard time speaking her mind because she doesn’t like conflict

Hero Costume: A sky blue and grey outfit with wide-leg shorts, a sleeveless top with a slouchy, layered neck and thigh-high matching socks that tuck into a pair of high-top sneakers. The outfit has silvery triangles that go around her hips, the cuff on her shorts are silver, and the soles of her sneakers are as well

Quirk: “Morph.” She can transform anything she touches into a different shape/molecular configuration so long as it has the same chemical makeup (i.e. no making diamond from iron, sorry). She has the easiest time just changing the shape of something, like turning a steel pipe into a sword, but can do more complicated transformations when given more time

Other Info: Her younger sister is a first year in the general studies department. She (the sister) didn’t want to be a hero and doesn’t really have a quirk strong enough for it, but she wanted the connections that came from going to UA

Himura Kenji (aka Obsidian Fire)

Body: Taller than average at about 5′10″ and with a lean build. He is trained for hand-to-hand combat, but is more agile than just strong, so he does not have the bulk of somelike like Mirio, for example. He has relatively pale, cool-toned skin

Features: He has short, inky-black hair that he normally slicks back with gel (he’s not ugly, so it looks good on him, but it’s still douchey looking). His eyes are firey red, narrow, and many would describe them as “boring a hole through your eyes” based on the cold intensity behind them. He is classically handsome, with high cheekbones, a narrow nose, and sharp jawline, but he’s also one of those people that once you know their personality, they aren’t as attractive

Personality: Selfish and competitive. As he has gone through training at UVA, he’s slowly developed a superiority complex and often treats those he deems unworthy significantly worse (he especially hates Quirkless people). He is rather talented and intelligent and, because he puts on a mask for the public, people tend to like him initially. Most of the hero course hates him, but students in the other courses usually like him

Hero Costume: His top is fitted and long-sleeve and has a thick black lapel, similar to a tuxedo, and there are two black bands around his wrists. For his pants, he wears solid black with grey kneepads and a pair of low grey boots (shapes similarly to Timberlands) with tungsten soles. His clothes are all made from a high-tech breathable fabric that can resist extremely high temepratures

Quirk: “Heat.” Pretty much exactly what it sounds like. Himura can produce heat from his hands in the form of a dark red glow. If he directs it in a very specific beam, he can cause it to stretch further. Currently, his maximum temperature is just over 4000 degrees F, so hot enough to melt most metals, but not things like Tungsten. In first year, it was closer to 2000 degrees

Other Info: Himura actually has a close friend in the support department. The two of them collaborate on a lot of stuff and he is probably the only person at UA that Himura will be a genuine person around without acting like a complete asshole. No one has figured out why he’s so special

Ishigaki Kaito (aka Dagger Fin)

Body: He’s about 5′9″ and he’s partially a shark, so he has a giant shark head with gills and his fins come out in the water. Because of the shark head, he’s pretty thicc. Bluish-grey skin that matches his quirk

Features: What do you want me to say? He’s a fucking shark man (think great white). He doesn’t have any hair. His eyes are jet black

Personality: Ishigaki (who insists everyone call him Kaito) is very outgoing and excitable. He doesn’t have the best social skills as he’s on the dorky side and has a hard time conveying what he means, but he’s easy to like and fun to talk to. He’s definitely not the brightest bulb, but he makes up for it with raw enthusiasm

Hero Costume: It’s basically just a wetsuit made from a more breathable, thinner material so he can swim faster

Quirk: “Shark.” I mean, it’s pretty self-explanatory. He can do basically anything a shark can in the water and some of it out of the water. Highlights include: High speed swimming! Multiple rows of teeth and powerful jaws! Sensing electric fields!

Other Info: When coming up with a hero name, he first chose “Shark Boy,” but he got yelled at for stealing the name of an American hero. As a joke, he still repeatedly tells people he’s “just a Shark Boy, looking for his Lava Girl”

Fujii Megumi, Megu for short (aka Lancette)

Body: Another smol child. She’s not super short (about 5′0″), but she’s very skinny. She has some muscle on her body and it’s quite defined because she has so little fat. She’s albino, so she has very white skin

Features: As mentioned before, she’s albino, so she has blond hair that is practically white with eyebrows and eyelashes that match. Her hair is very straight and thick and goes down to her butt to help her quirk. Her eyes are wide and constantly look like a deer in headlights because they’re so big. Her eyes are a light reddy-pink color

Personality: Megu is slow to open up to people, generally wary of strangers and quiet around those she hasn’t spent much time with. Once she has opened up to you though, she has a quick temper and hotheaded personality. She often winds up in arguments with Onishi because he likes to push at her buttons or Ishigaki because he’s a little inept at talking to girls. Sachi is her closest friend in the class and she would do absolutely anything for the people that she cares about. Her loyalty runs deep

Hero Costume: A full-body light pink fitted suit with overlapping white rings along her hips, shoulders, ankles, and wrists.

Quirk: “Dagger Hair.” She can sharpen her hair into blades that float around her and can grow and shrink at will. Because it hardens into a nearly impenetrable material, she can also use it as a defense

Other Info:

Mifune Sachiko, Sachi for short (aka Sachi)

Body: She is about 5′5″ and is on the curvier side, again with the normal muscle that someone would have from constant training. She’s half-black, half-Japanese because her dad’s American, so she has a darker skin than her classmates

Features: She has dark brown, almost black eyes that are almond shaped with long lashes. She has very curly, black hair that comes down to her shoulders and she parts in the middle

Personality: Sachi doesn’t like to be involved in drama, so she often comes across as a silent observer. She’s generally more mature than some of her classmates (*cough* Onishi *cough*) and is more laidback. She’s more open and accepting of differences between people and because she thought she was quirkless for a while, she doesn’t discriminate. Because of her relaxed attitude, she can come across as cold and uncaring

Hero Costume: Her costume leaves a lot of exposed skin so she can touch people (must be her actual skin, not clothes), so she has neon yellow biker shorts and a matching high-necked sports bra. A black cursive S runs along the right thigh of her shorts. She also wears a pair of distance-vision goggles that help her see what villains she may be attracted to from afar 

Quirk: “Attraction.” She can make anybody that she thinks is attractive into a zombie of sorts, so long as she touches them. Their minds and eyes will go fuzzy and they automatically move to protect her. Many people misunderstand her quirk and think it either applies to anybody or think it only applies to men, but she’s pansexual and it’s just whoever she thinks is cute. Just for fun, here’s a list of people in the class that her quirk works on: Yamamoto, Amy, Mirio, Hadou, Inoue, Suzuki, Himura, and Reader. She thought she was quirkless until she was about 12, because she didn’t get the whole attraction thing until then

Other Info: Because she’s got bigger boobs than many of her classmates, she dealt with quite a bit of harrassment her first year at UA. Some of her classmates didn’t like that and so developed the Sachi Protection Squad (Ishigaki, Megu, Suzuki, and Inoue). She doesn’t really need the help because she can kick-ass, but they like doing it anyway. Also, she knows English because of her dad, so Amy and she can be seen whispering in English to each other sometimes

[theeurekaproject]

Alienigena

“You know,” Athena said, “I never would have pegged us as the type who’d be good at politics.” She fidgeted with the sleeve of her white dress, which didn't look like something she would ever willingly wear. Acidalia had suggested it and Carina had forced Athena into it; she didn’t seem particularly happy about the garment, and it was bound to end up in a crumpled ball of fabric on the floor by the end of the meeting.

“Well, we are astrophysicists,” Carina said, trying to hide the fact that her voice was shaking. She was also dressed in a gown that seemed to expensive for someone of her stature, and she felt just as awkward in it as she probably looked. It was a gorgeous dress that most likely cost more than her rent, but that didn’t make her feel any more comfortable in it—it was so clearly made for Acidalia that it felt like every seam and piece of fabric was in the wrong place. The skirt was too long, the waist was too small, and the chest and hips were too large. Carina felt like a knockoff Imperatrix, like an off-brand version of Acidalia that one might find in the bargain bin of a big box store. Her very un-Imperial short, straight hair didn’t help matters—no matter how much she wrestled with it, it seemed to settle back into strict bob, and it was too light for Acidalia’s black bobby pins to blend in. She was a stranger in a world she never thought she’d have a place in—all of this was Aleskynn’s territory much more than it was Carina’s.

Then again, Athena looked even worse, so maybe Carina was just overreacting. At least she hadn’t managed to destroy the sleeves of her dress.

“Stop playing with that, you’re ruining it,” she said. “Look, now there are loose threads.” “Well, if they didn’t want me to ruin it, they should have made it sturdier.” Athena pulled on another thread, which created a rippling, cinched effect from the top of the sleeve to the bottom. “This thing is probably more expensive than the Hope Diamond, but it feels like it’s made of paper.” “I mean, it’s made for noblewomen, isn’t it? They don’t do a whole lot of heavy lifting, or any work at all.” Carina couldn’t even remember the last time she’d seen Aleskynn do much of anything, really. Mostly she just sat around and complained, neither of which were the types of activities that would strain clothing.

“Noblewomen or not, if I can’t kick someone’s ass in all my finery, that finery isn’t worth the price,” Athena retorted, frowning down at the glitter that fell from her bodice every time she moved.

Behind them, someone laughed in a way that was instantly recognizable as the stilted chortle of a rich lady—a rehearsed sound somewhere in-between the o~hohoho of an anime ojou and the polite chuckle a parent might do when their child presented them with a crayon drawing. Carina turned around to see Acidalia, leaning against a bulkhead and looking amused. “I quite agree,” she said, smiling slightly. “If you can’t fight in a dress, why wear the dress at all?”

“Then why are you wearing that?” Athena asked, and, for once, Carina had to agree that she was right. Acidalia’s outfit was the epitome of impracticality—it was a cross between a Greco-Roman toga and a very large ballgown, which had been dipped in enough glitter that it could probably blind anyone who looked at it too hard. She was absolutely dripping with jewelry and regalia, which looked like it would hinder more than help her, and she was about five inches taller than she’d been before, meaning she must have been wearing even higher, fancier heels. From the way her skirts swept against the floorboards, Carina could tell she was wearing a crinoline, and several more skirts on top of that. Plus, her waist was cinched so tight that there was no explanation for it other than a very tight corset, which didn’t seem comfortable at all.

“Ballgowns are actually easier to fight in than you might expect,” Acidalia said. “There’s plenty of room for footwork under the skirt, and crinolines are very flexible, or it’d look like you’re walking around with a cage under your dress. And at a certain point, the bigger the skirt, the better—it protects your legs from scratches and hits, and sometimes even laser fire. I have multiple armored skirts.”

“But wouldn’t you trip on the hem?” “Not if you’re graceful about it. It’s usually fine, as long as you don’t try to run backwards.” Athena looked curious. “Hmmm. I’m going to have to test that.” “Don’t. You’ll get a concussion,” Carina warned. “So? I’ve had two concussions and my brain is fi-iiineee.” She slurred the last word for comedic effect, but nobody laughed (though Acidalia did look mildly amused.) “But what about the rest of it? High heels, corsets? Do you just break the heels off?” “You can’t make flats by breaking the heels off of stilettos,” Acidalia said, “but you can always kick them off. And the corsets are usually fine, too. If they’re laced up so you can breathe—which mine always are; Terra’s atmosphere makes it difficult enough for humans to breathe when their lungs aren’t being compressed, and I don’t need to suffocate in the middle of a speech—they aren’t that restrictive. I suppose it would be a problem if someone got you down onto the ground, because they do make it harder—though not impossible—to get up from that position. The worst part about dresses is usually the sleeves.”

“Then I guess it’s good that I completely destroyed mine,” Athena said, completely unashamed. Carina cringed.

Acidalia shook her head. “Not that type of sleeve. It’s the off-shoulder sleeves that are aggravating, because they make it impossible to raise your your arms fully, and if you rip them off, the bodice will slide down your front.” “At least flashing the enemy might distract them,” Athena remarked, and Acidalia laughed the same way a little girl would laugh after hearing something scandalous at a slumber party. How weird was that? Carina thought. This woman had admitted to smashing someone’s skull in—smashing multiple people’s skulls in—and the thought of anything remotely sexual was somehow stranger than that to her. Most people Carina knew had had sexual interactions with other people, but she didn’t know too many perpetrators of homicide.

But was Acidalia really a perpetrator of homicide? That made her sound like a criminal, and she was most definitely not a criminal—at least, not in the traditional sense. Most of her killings could probably be written off as justifiable self-defense; she didn’t seem like the type to take some sort of sadistic pleasure in stabbing people to death. Then again, you never really knew anyone, did you? Acidalia didn’t seem like the type of person who would willingly hang out with Andromeda, either.

Carina didn’t know how she felt about Andromeda. She seemed smart enough, and certainly powerful—her presence was just as imposing as Acidalia’s, if not more so. But there was a roughness, an edge to her, that gave Carina pause. The way she’d spoken about T’s death was so unnecessarily rude and dehumanizing, and the brash way she’d acted about dropping nuclear bombs on people who hadn’t even committed a crime was incredibly concerning. Even though they had only met once and never spoken, Carina got the feeling that Andromeda was the sort of person who thrived on violence—she didn’t exactly seem like a peace-seeker. But maybe peace-seeking wasn’t what warriors were supposed to do, anyway.

***

The journey to the landing site was only a few hours—it would have been much shorter if they weren’t actively trying to avoid detection—but thirty minutes in, Carina already felt like she was suffocating. The Revelation was just as huge as it had been on the way to Mars, but with this many angry, scared people packed inside, it felt so much smaller. Only Acidalia seemed calm, but even then it was difficult to tell if she was really as unaffected as she seemed; she was always so stoic that her emotions were completely unreadable.

As they flew over the starscrapers of Appalachia City, barely far away enough to avoid being seen from the ground, a wave of nausea hit Carina like a hovertrain. She swallowed hard, pushing it down into her chest where it seemed to curl up into a tight little ball of festering worry. For some strange reason, she almost wanted to tell Acidalia about it—Acidalia would know what to do. Acidalia knew everything. But Acidalia was busy studying some very official-looking books in the corner, the kind with gilded edges and embossed covers and paper made from real trees, and even if she wasn’t in a position where interrupting her felt unwise, she was still the Imperatrix Ceasarina. She was not the type of person Carina, or anyone, could really befriend.

Meanwhile, as Acidalia calmly flipped pages and wrote notes in the margins of elaborate books, the others argued and paced and stewed in a sea of barely-concealed, furious anxiety. Across the ship, David Seren and his daughter were engrossed in a screaming match, both insulting each other in Martian Anglicus Carina couldn’t even understand conversationally, while Athena looked on, entertained. Andromeda paced, dragging her one metal leg on the white floor with the strength of an ox, leaving scratches in the marble and looking angry—angry at the circumstances? Angry at herself? The expression on her face didn’t make Carina particularly eager to find out. Then there was Ace—poor Ace, who had lost a brother just as much as the Imperatrix had—who had disappeared with Lyra into a closet and slammed the door shut, barricading anyone from entering. Athena had cracked a joke about the implications, but Carina knew what they were doing in there—crying, mostly. Crying harder than Acidalia ever had or would, or slowly driving themselves mad with regret for what they’d lost.

Look at us, Carina thought. We sure make one hell of a team. A dethroned empress with the world’s worst mother, a Praetor with anger issues, two clueless Martians, two inexperienced Scientias, a Cantator who had stumbled into importance by accident, and a traumatized, depressed super-soldier whose only friend in the world had just died. They could barely even exist on the same starship together; how were they supposed to serve as a delegation? She understood why she and Athena were here—politicians or not, they were astrophysicists, and they had an innate knowledge of both the stars and the organisms that made their homes among them. The presence of the Martians and the Praetor could be justified, too, because they specialized in this type of thing—it wasn’t out of the question for appointed bureaucrats  and wartime leaders to meet with foreign ambassadors. But there was no reason to drag Lyra and Ace into this, especially not when they were so clearly upset. Did they even want to be here? Carina wondered. Some people chased danger like their lives depended on it, but most weren’t willing to throw themselves headfirst into war for the sake of an adrenaline high.  And now that T was dead, they couldn’t have been thinking rationally—they hadn’t been given any time to even process what had happened.

Nobody’s in a good mental state right now, Carina realized. She was terrified, and Athena probably was, too; she was just better at hiding it. The Serens had just effectively lost their home and all their “social points,” whatever those were. Acidalia and Ace and Lyra were all mourning, even if they didn’t show it. Andromeda was likely the most emotionally stable person on the whole Revelation, and she was a complete war hawk. How would they ever talk to the Mira? Acidalia would say something eloquent and political, then Andromeda would follow that up with something crass, and maybe the others would pop into the conversation to offer snippets of expertise, but half of them would be crying the whole time, and Cressida would still be on her phone, and David would stare awkwardly like a politician who didn’t know how to be a politician. And then the Mira would look at them and think really? This is who they sent? and that would be that and they’d be dead, and the war would be lost before it had even begun, and—

“You alright?” Athena asked, appearing behind Carina and making her jump about six feet.

“No,” she said truthfully, “I’m not. I’m scared to death, Athena.” “About what?” “About the nightmare aliens from outer space that have been at war with us for hundreds of years?! How are you not worried about this?” Her hands were shaky, her palms clammy, her voice higher than it normally was. She felt like she was breathing in helium, replacing all of the air in her lungs with squeaky-voiced nerves.

“We’re not dead yet,” Athena shrugged. “Besides, do you really think their ships are that scary looking?” “Well, I wouldn’t know; I’ve never seen one before.” When they were younger, before they were able to do calculus and telemetry, she and Athena had been responsible for tracking Miran starships, but that job mostly involved pressing the tab key on a computer when the numbers on the spreadsheet changed a little too much. It was the most primitive form of tracking—they were just looking at stars and the things that obscured them, and if their light dipped too low when it wasn’t supposed to, the Scientias would mark it for review. It was boring work that never paid off; nearly every foreign body was a planet or a satellite or something else of that nature, and all the other changes in the light were sent off to more experienced people before Athena or Carina got to understand what it was.

“Well,” Athena said, “don’t look now, but I think there’s one behind us.”

“What?”

“Look.” Athena gripped her shoulders and spun her around, sending a cascade of sequins and glitter careening towards the floor and leaving a puddle of pure sparkle. How did Acidalia live like this? Carina thought briefly, before turning to the window. She couldn’t see anything other than a blinding white glow and the rays of light that reflected off the Appalachia City starscrapers.

“What am I supposed to be looking at?” “Watch.” Athena fixed her steel-gray eyes on some invisible object before them, and Carina tried to do the same.

“I don’t see—“ she began, but then she did see, and something in her voice died. She stared up at the ship, a luminescent wall of blue that seemed more like a hovering water droplet than a spacecraft, and tried her hardest to conceptualize the fact that it was real. Fading in and out of her vision like a ghost, the ship didn’t appear very corporeal, but that was just the cloaking—underneath all that, it was as grounded in reality as the Revelation itself, despite its strangeness.

“It’s not what I expected,” Athena admitted, looking at the flickering wall of watery cerulean. “But I guess they’re aliens, so…?” “Yeah,” Carina said. “Aliens.” But, shockingly enough, she wasn’t as afraid as she thought she’d be; the ship looked more like a children’s toy than a military craft, and she couldn’t see any weapons anywhere. They were probably hidden—the Mira were anything but harmless, if they were strong enough to battle Eleutherians for hundreds of years—but they weren’t visible, and that was enough to reassure Carina that she probably wouldn’t be killed just for standing here. If they really meant business, they would have shown up in something more clearly dangerous… right? Acidalia looked up from the watercolored pages of one of her ancient books. “I suppose it’s time, then,” she said, with a deliberately final-sounding sort of calmness. In a massive movement of skirts and fabric, she stood, somehow elegantly staggering under the weight of her own swirling petticoats.

“Already?” Carina just barely squeaked out. “I guess it makes sense, but—“ “Scared?” Athena laughed. “Relax. They’re just, like, mermaids on crack or something.”

“Well, those ‘mermaids on crack’ managed to match us in war for centuries, so, yes, I’m a little nervous,” Carina snapped, flushing. Mermaids on crack was a hell of a way to describe a dangerous enemy, even if they were sparkly and blue. Acidalia looked at her sympathetically. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” she said, clearly trying her hardest to be gentle and nice.

Carina bit her lip. She didn’t want to do this—this place was not her territory. She had no business being here to begin with, and she knew she’d never be able to add anything valuable to the conversation—at least, nothing as valuable as Acidalia would add. But she was also a relatively normal-looking girl who could maybe pass as a rich girl to an uninformed observer, and it’d be simple to masquerade as a noblewoman or a lady-in-waiting as long as she kept her mouth shut and didn’t say anything stupid. The alien ambassadors would doubtlessly be suspicious if Acidalia arrived without an entourage, and that would be bad—the Revolution couldn’t afford to make their leader seem illegitimate in the eyes of the enemy, even if she was a technically illegitimate royal. With a Martian companion, two soldiers, and a battery of ladies-in-in-waiting, Acidalia looked like an empress. Without all of that, she’d look like a fleeing princess ousted from her empire. And sure, Athena and Cressida and Lyra could probably make Acidalia look more legit, but would they really? Athena couldn’t even give a research presentation without cursing, and there was no way Cressida could get through a boring political meeting without checking something on her metadit.

“I’m coming,” Carina decided, trying not to look too afraid. If she was one of the first Eleutherians to peacefully speak to the Mira, she’d make history. And if she died… well, she hoped it was quick.

[floggingink]

Riverdale, “Chapter Sixteen: The Watcher in the Woods”

question from the recap: When is/was Jughead’s first day at SHS? in the finale Jughead trotted over to Southside out of pique & gloom, on his own accord, and wasn’t officially enrolled yet, because he is that dramatic

Kevin, cruising the woods for gays, runs towards the sound of gunshots, because he is one of the too-many-angels President Bartlet is talking about in “20 Hours in America”

Midge is still alive, because of her haircut

I need to educate myself as to what “palomitas” means (popcorn OR a bird?), but Hiram calls Hermione corazón, which is sweet

or is it Hiram

Veronica says “inner circle only,” but as Kevin demonstrated at Jughead’s party, that means LITERALLY ANYONE YOU WANT

you know I forgot Reggie was football captain!!! hahahahaha you know it!!!!

Moose is still alive!!!!! God I’m really bad at this!!!!!

the polls are closed: Reggie’s mouth is the greatest Riverdale mouth

he’s also wearing a tight-skin skin-tight muscle shirt or compression shirt or whatever it was that Steve Rogers wore running around the Mall except with no sleeves to show off his rack

“He, like, shielded her with his body.”

practice is cancelled, for emotional reasons

“I was just night-jogging. You know, as one does.”

Betty and Veronica are squeezed into each other’s laps on that tiny loveseat, because they just like to keep each other warm

Jughead does not love baby showers, birthday parties, town jubilees, Seth Rogen movies, or “gross reality dating shows”

Veronica has a very interesting plum lip stain thing going on

the interior of the student lounge and the hallway outside seem to be lit from the sun shining down on a cathedral

Jughead...just...went to Riverdale High in the morning to chill out with his friends before he went to Southside...you sentimental fool...

I have developed a Pavlovian response to the twinkly Bughead-kissing soundtrack cue (crushing whatever I’m holding), which is what Cole Sprouse wants

Kevin is going out for wrestling like he said he wanted to at the construction site! live your dreams, Kev!

it took A MOMENT to register that Cheryl Blossom was walking steadily behind them, out of focus, like the monster in It Follows

Kevin is desperate for love “post-Joaquin,” where he won’t be honeytrapped again, but takes what he can get in the form of Jughead’s “wolves” in Fox Forest

Kevin has a teensy photo in his locker of himself and Betty hugging

Cheryl’s sheaths: Cheryl’s postmodern black-scarlet blazer is something to consider

Archie’s “You saved her life, bro” is 100% sincere, because this is one of those Awesome Archie Episodes

Reggie is eating Moose’s obligatory hospital pudding

there’s a handmade get-well card on Moose’s nightstand consisting of a drawing of a moose with a hand-traced pair of antlers, like how kindergarteners make Thanksgiving turkey crafts

Midge brought a stuffed moose for him!

“He was like Michael Meyers. He had the devil’s eyes.” Midge, have you met Jughead?

ADORABLY, Moose’s heart monitor becomes SHS’s security sensor beeping

Sexy, aesthetic Southside: Toni Topaz 1) finally says “Forsythe Pendleton Jones the Third,” so do a shot, 2) takes a picture of Jughead to be performative, because she is an artist, and 3) is wearing a plaid crop top

Jughead is immeasurably pleased his peer mentor makes a sort of Disney World-via-Jurassic Park-via-Westworld joke right out of the gate and probably that she has such great hair

Southside High’s paper was called the Red & Black, because it was my Goth Hello Kitty messenger back I got for $10 at Hot Topic in 2005

God bless Moose jingle-jangle: sorry but I thought Moose was dead, so “to your right,” Toni keeping with her tour guide theme, points out a cluster of occasionally snappily-dressed grunge kids (those sunglasses?) tossing back MethLite, “the JJ”

I like how Toni is like, Don’t do the drugs, as if Jughead would possibly be tempted to do the drugs

Ghoulies eat flesh? what show am I watching? they eat flesh

there’s like literally wire fencing inside the cafeteria

OKAY HOLD ON THERE’S SOME SORT OF ABORTION POSTER UP ON THE COLUMN IN THE CAFETORIUM. I can’t tell what it used to say. “IT IS YOUR CHOICE”? it’s been defaced and now it says “IT S YOUR’S BOY,” or something

Jughead doubts it: Jughead “self-identifies” as “a loner,” like Luke Danes

Toni does an admirable job holding up her end of the first-day-at-new-high-school cafeteria-tour trope, advising Jughead to sit with the Serpents so he doesn’t get gangbanged. Jughead, sit with Toni

Serpent attire seems to consist more of the plaid and the layers and the Ghoulies seem to be more leather jackets and studs

Archie tries to justify buying a gun by turning it into Fred’s idea

he looks very handsome, brooding by firelight!

“My dad keeps saying ‘Leave it to Sheriff Keller,’ and I’m like, ‘Yeah, dad, because he did such a great job of catching Jason’s murderer.’ Oh wait, I’m sorry, that was us.” OOOOOH ARCHIE!!!!!!!

Sixth period is Intro to Film: “No, don’t stop him. Archie going Travis Bickle is my favorite Archie yet.” (Archie does not understand this)

Hiram knows FP “values family,” so he’ll probably be the next person to force FP’s hand by threatening Jughead

I liked everyone talking over Jughead’s sweet, trailing “So do we all”

honestly there is a very good telenovela drama-guitar cue as Hiram invites Archie to dinner, to help me know that Hiram is plotting something, although I did already know that because Hiram was speaking

Archie keeps his gun in the garage so that it’s not “in the house”

GOD THE TITLE CARD DOESN’T EVEN COME UP UNTIL NOW

this is the first time I’ve noticed how lovely and periwinkle blue Veronica’s bedroom is!

Hermione tells Veronica not to be “so thirsty” for Hiram’s approval and involvement

I think Hermione is being nice, if condescending, in this scene, telling Veronica that things with Hiram are still sort of weird and to let things come naturally, but Veronica automatically takes it as some sort of jab. of course this is a step up from two episodes ago when she thought Hermione tried to murder her boyfriend’s dad

it’s nine in the morning and Archie took over the English classroom to recruit some bruiser studs!!! #RiverdaleStrong!!!!

Dilton Doiley is a canonically great dancer: Archie invited trigger-happy Dilton, who is whittling a spear or something, because Archie owes him an emotional debt for feeling better protected

Reggie is trying really hard but Archie has to gently let him down that they’re not “taking it to the streets” to “kick ass,” nor are they calling themselves “the Watchdogs”

James Dean-haired Serpent is SO ANGRY at something he just read on his phone that he just LEAVES ENGLISH CLASS

parallel English classrooms! cute

Toni knows Fahrenheit 451, but tries to keep Jughead quiet with her eyes so he doesn’t either out himself as a nerd or simply draw more attention to himself

Fifth period is AP English: Jughead knows where “Fahrenheit 451” comes from but also knows the tagline and also says the tagline

“Welcome to hell.” Jesus this place looks terrible

how stone cold is Mr. Phillips to not just LET an interested student start the paper back up but makes them wait for him to read their portfolio

Betty’s uberpink sweater is back!!!!

Cheryl brought that lurking emerald armchair from home

Kevin is right that it’s not technically Betty’s business and Betty is right that this action is unsustainable

What damn high school in America: would let Cheryl wear that outfit to school?

Cheryl’s plunk, plunk, plunk staccato DramaLite sound cue: “Oh, Betty.”

Cheryl’s pins: she has a very fetching freckle right above her shirt hem

Jughead eats: I think Jughead is at the diner with Archie and Veronica. I think he’s walking to the counter?

“I DON’T CARE.”

“Can he just be a dad for one night?” I’m gonna call that one for you, V

Hal has taken a giant step back from fucking around and is just supporting his girls left and right at the moment. good, Hal

is demanding a letter be published or else he’ll kill again another Zodiac reference?

MY GOD THE BLESSED WALLET

someone who knew Ms. Grundy was having sex with Archie is a wide net, proportionally, but who also knew Fred and Hermione had been making out? is Hermione thus in MORE danger?

“YOUR SECRETS, YOUR SINS” it must be someone who listens in on the Cheryl Blossom sexy guilt quilting bees????

the Black Hood seems to be a guy who was taking Betty’s own-up-to-ourselves Jubilee speech at a certain angle a little too much

“I AM THE WOLF. YOU ARE THE FLOCK. THIS IS THE BLOODLETTING.” Jughead, idly reading this prose on the walk to school, spits his Sheetz coffee all over Alice’s newspaper

Mädchen Amick, MÄDCHEN AMICK: Alice’s expression while Sheriff Keller reads this is like, Mhmm. Mhmmm. I told you all. This is what I told you

Alice and Betty both sometimes just...publish shit

Jughead is SINCERELY TOUCHED that Mr. Phillips liked his stuff so much that he’s getting the paper back. he so rarely just smiles because he’s happy, because something nice is happening to him

his big chunky double-aught headphones are back!

“That will not be a problem for me.”

Weatherbee: “The Red Circle is a school club.” ARCHIE’S FACE

he and Weatherbee are exactly the same height, so Archie...sliding his eyes over to try and parse this surprise alliance...comedy gold…

WEATHERBEE DOESN’T EVEN QUALIFY THAT SHIT HE JUST STANDS THERE AND ARCHIE’S LIKE OH MY GOD?????

is Jughead gently trying to rope in Toni for his paper like Betty gently trying to rope in Jughead for her paper? they both brush heavy dust from the untouched room furnishings off their hands, flatter their subjects with knowledge of their sideprojects. of course Betty had the unexpected added bonus of Jughead being sprung

I don’t know who the beanpole Serpent is with Sweet Pea, but he needs to step up his game. just hanging around with that stringy hair? look who’s in the room with you

“hat in hand,” IF YOU WILL

Toni Topaz is tiny and Sweet Pea absolutely does as she tells him

“the farm” still “has room” for Polly, so it’s like a youth hostel? an Airbnb? is it a FARM? are there farmhands? what if Polly starts a romance with a handsome blond farmhand, not knowing it’s her long-long half-brother? can I write for Riverdale now?

The Blossom corpse spawn: Polly standing there in a gentle white blouse with a pink bow in her hair is like comically angelic and she’s like, “I’M HAVING MY COUSIN’S BABY”

Best costume bit: Alice’s sweater with the bows up the sleeves???

more supportive Hal! this is nice! this is like the other shoe dropping, but reversed

Moose is very handsome. he has an absurd jawline and run-hands-thoughable hair. Moose is a big hunk of delicious and he’s asking Kevin to be his Nurse

Gay?!: Midge likes to occasionally spice things up with the JJ, so Moose indulges her (for her haircut), but he really just...wants to cuddle…

Kevin is wearing a smart black leather jacket over a soft purple V-neck to ever so slightly show off his chest hair

Gay.: how fucking—POIGNANT is Moose’s speech??? Moose, where have you been!!!!

Veronica is the way she is because sometimes she’s just sitting there in plastic gloves and a black sheath dress and her mother comes up behind her and hisses in her ear that she’s courting danger by insisting on socializing with her father

I guess it’s not on Andre’s list of duties to polish the silver

Archie and Reggie, armed with short-range weapons, tearing around in the same car is courting danger the way only two burly well-meaning sixteen-year-old idiots can

“You cannot be here at night unless you’re armed.”

I don’t know but Betty’s electric kettle is the most precious thing

is it wise to write an exposé like that at this school? ...does that mean Jughead won’t do it?

“I THOUGHT YOU LIKED ME RECKLESS,” HE SAYS, TRAILING HIS HAND UP HER SHOULDER, LIKE HE IS HER BRENDAN FRASER IN THE MUMMY

did they discuss this? what is this. Betty said that the motorcycle was “RECKLESS” and Jughead was like, Okay, but you think it’s kind of dashing, right? Like the jacket? The jacket that you hate? I saw you looking at that jacket, and Betty’s like, NO, I WAS NOT, and Jughead’s like, Mmmhmn, why don’t you come sit over here.

IS THIS SOME OF THE BEST KISSING SO FAR?

Jughead was definitely sit-leaning on that table and Betty was definitely in his lap

Betty’s automatic politeness, its depths first seen thanking Cheryl for her poisonous faux-concern for Polly at cheerleading tryouts, resurfaces, saying “That’s okay” to Toni for walking in on them and then not leaving, because Betty is THE REAL SWEET PEA AROUND HERE

Toni was previously informed about Betty as a concept but drew her own conclusions based on Jughead’s aesthetic and was surprised when she got a cheerleader

Reggie has definitely called Jughead either “Emily the Strange” or “Winona Ryder in Beetlejuice” (Lydia Deetz) before

Please protect Betty: I think it’s clear Toni is not interested in Jughead as a piece of man-meat, but Betty being slightly awkward and off-balance about “Great minds” is very soft and fleeting and sixteen

Hermione is playing such a weird, dangerous game. she wanted Hiram out of prison, or didn’t she? is she embracing his return because she couldn’t NOT act like she wanted him back? is she scared for Veronica or having fun with Hiram but not wanting it to bleed over into Veronica’s life or what’s up Hermione???

Cheryl’s hair: Cheryl is just...just HANGING OUT, gorgeously, at Pop’s, with a milkshake and some onion rings, waiting for drama, like an even more morbidly gleeful social commentator Jughead, if Jughead ever had the sense to wear a jacket with a cherry print

Kevin is sort of stocky! probably a good build—for wrestling

“You precious, beautiful, compulsive piece of trash.”

first off I would like an explanation as to why Ethel Muggs has to walk ten miles home along the highway

what sin has Ethel possibly committed???

Jughead sits back to survey his empire in red-lit solitude

Reggie executes a very Death Proof emergency-brake U-turn to get back to Hastings St.

I love all the blue and pink lighting! and the glare of the headlights, and the spooky forest filtering! I LOVE ALL OF IT

Archie skidding to a halt to turn back for Ethel and sort of falling, kicking up a lot of dirt, is A+

Ethel apparently hid in the wheat field across from the old Methodist Revival church

Archie > Dawson: Archie telling Ethel, who is crying, not to be sorry for not recognizing the Mystery Machine driver and then going in for the comforting boy-hug IS VERY GOOD ARCHIE

okay so Betty and Toni and Jughead were lolling around getting to know each other, if you know what I mean, and Betty gets a text from Cheryl and she LEAVES TO GO MAKE SURE KEVIN WASN’T BEHIND A TREE WITH SOMEONE WHO WAS ABOUT TO KILL HIM, ALSO THE IMPLIED SCENE OF CHERYL AND BETTY LIKE DRIVING OUT HERE TOGETHER

Cheryl’s a psychopath chaos angel from hell: “FACT.”

Betty’s velvety pink hoodie is presh

50 Shades of Betty: according to Kevin and Cheryl, who shines her flashlight in Betty’s face, “Dark Betty” is Betty “exploring her BDSM sexuality,” which I think Jughead should get a taste of

I did like Kevin qualifying it with “which you’re allowed to do!”

“So please don’t come here and tell me it’s disgusting.”

Cheryl’s obvious delight at Kevin’s dressing-down is like Kevin’s vicarious thrill at Veronica accusing her of twincest

“$CHOOL OF LIE$” needs clarification. at least I know it’s not Jughead’s tag because the font is not fancy enough

I’ve seen Brick like thirty times: OKAY, SO NOW JUGHEAD? THIS CHILD? JUGHEAD, THEN, IS KICKED IN THE FACE? IT’S JUGHEAD’S TURN? IT’S JUGHEAD, THEN? NOW, THEN?

“He’ll find a way to be offended if that’s what he wants” is a great way of describing so many people I personally know

Certified pedigree: Fred, I am glad you’re still alive. I would miss your grizzled teen face and your reassuring morning voice

Jughead called Toni first, I think, “Hey yeah! That thing he said would happen happened! Ha ha.” then he told Betty the first real lie of their relationship, coming from a place of protection

Toni’s face at the baldness of this story is great

Betty dabbing Jughead’s scraping face-wounds with hydrogen peroxide and a cotton ball, possibly all that FP had in his medicine cabinet?

Fwoopy hair is the best hair: TONI’S FLUFFY PINK PIGTAIL BRAIDS

plus she has a beanie too! because the southside is cold

“the Creepies”

“Toni, will you keep an eye on him for me? He refuses to communicate hardship unless there is irrefutable physical evidence.”

you know, Jughead has like, seen some shit. maybe Jughead operates with a little self-protective flair sometimes because his life is so full of horrifying peril and degradation

“Damn good coffee”: okay the entire extended Archie and Hiram scene is so incredible I had to watch it like thirty times. “We need to work on our response time,” as if Archie were a firefighter. Hiram acting like the Red Circle is legitimate and fully funded by the state and not operating out of the back of Reggie Mantle’s father’s muscle car. Hermione’s one-shouldered DRESS. “Like the alcohol?” Archie furiously fidgeting with a napkin as he’s offered rum by his girlfriend’s father. Veronica, still not allowed in Hiram’s study

Veronica was rich: the Lodges have a private rum label, like George Clooney’s tequila

“Oh, pobrecita…” seems to be a facetious sort of “You poor thing”

Hermione calls Veronica a “princess” whom “the king” will never let inside his castle—I’m sorry, his “private throne room,” AKA literally the study, then finishes her wine and blows Veronica a kiss. HER DAUGHTER. because Hermione is drunk and has fully embraced her role as frosty crime bitch soap queen. RISE HERMIONE

oh, Polly is really leaving, for real! Betty locks the door!!!!

I love the vaguely confessional-esque screening on Hiram’s study windows, like Veronica’s painting is a sort of cross on the wall, “keeps him honest”

“HONEST”

I can’t tell what the painting behind Hiram is, but he also has lots of landscapes, all individually lit

Every triangle has three corners, every triangle has three sides: Hiram Lodge telling Archie Andrews to stay out of Veronica’s bedroom is a classic that has been with America since like the Civil War but now it’s Hiram telling him to stop sneaking into Veronica’s room followed by advice at how to step up his vigilante neighborhood watch so that Archie will get killed

the outward casualness of “You know...never...hurt Veronica. Ever.” IS REALLY SCARY

Archie may have gotten away that night without actually having to drink any rum, because he did not want to

Betty’s white ballet flats!

These students are legally children: Riverdale is so fucking insane I fucking thought they’d actually fucking stabbed Kevin Keller

what is this guy expecting to get by yelling at Kevin and calling him a tease? ...men

Kevin standing there with his father, crying-nodding, expecting probably to be yelled at, if men who call their sons “boy” are anything to be judged by, instead gets a sort of soft speech from a guy who knows there are people being killed for kissing ladies whose husbands are in jail so it makes sense Kevin is in danger for running around at night looking for anonymous sex, affection

Sheriff Keller, I no longer care that you were running around in circles to find Jason’s killer, because you are very nice to your son

(I am still mad that he hauled Jughead out of school in front of everyone)

Summer + Blair = Veronica: VERONICA’S “THAT SMILE”

I like how Veronica decides the best way to handle being kept out of the Study, literally and metaphorically, is to ingratiate herself into Hiram’s world more via the business

Veronica wants to be in “the room where it happens,” because...she loves me…

I also REALLY like her vaguely witchy pumpkin-orange sweater with the black collar

Hermione’s life is like flashing before her eyes at Hiram’s shoulder

also what’s up with Hermione bringing him all his café con leches? dude’s arm broken?

is that Veronica drinking another brisk Cristal mimosa?

I’m writing a scene where it’s gay.: God help me but Sweet Pea kinda gives Jug an up-and-down once-over when he sits at their table

they nod at each other!

Kevin is allowed to be pissed at Betty even though the outcome was good, but Riverdale does not have time for wallowing grudges, unless it’s cross-generational and about Hungry Jack

plus Betty’s expression is like, Yeah but I got you out of the woods, boo, DIDN’T I

first of all, Archie reclaiming homemade ski masks is amazing, and the fact that they are not red but in fact Pussy Riot-pink is just a blessing on top of blessings

Archie’s like, But I’m not going to wear a mask because he knows where I live, but secretly it was because he thought it made him look the coolest

The female gaze: why are their shirts off? I posit: why isn’t EVERYONE’S shirt off?

this YouTube video is beyond even Hiram’s wildest dreams

then he swivels around to face Veronica’s portrait, like THIS IS FOR YOU, MIJA

NEXT WEEK: THE ZODIAC KILLER IS COMING FOR BETTY COOPER

[eatsliftsandruns]

The Stuff Review

As a newbie runner, I accumulated a lot of STUFF in a hurry.  I never shook the feeling that if I just bought a little bit more gear, running would get just a little bit easier.  While that didn’t end up being true, I definitely found that some of the successories I purchased were worth their weight in gold, and that I could have done without others.  

This post is a rundown of 10 pieces of gear that I purchased, and a bit of a brain dump about what I found to be worth and what I could have passed on.  None of these are sponsored reviews -- just my thoughts on some of the stuff I’ve accumulated in about 6 months of training.

1) Orange Mud hydraquiver

I’ll start with my favorite.  I did ALL the research on hydration packs.  I knew I didn’t want a backpack.  I tried on a few vests at the store, but I hate the hoses.  After a lot of reading, I bought the Orange Mud pack, and I love it.  It really is as easy as they promised to get the bottle in and out.  The pack is comfortable and stays put, and putting the bottle between your shoulder blades makes it feel weightless.  I wore this pack for my half marathon, and it was absolutely worth the money I paid for it.

I will say: this hydration pack doesn’t work for Spartan Races or other mud run type events.  For my Spartan Super, I carried a handheld Nathan Quickshot, but I wasn’t very sad when I lost it in a mud pit because it didn’t really hold enough to be useful.  

2) ProCompression Socks: 

I have a bit of a love/hate with these socks: mostly love, with just a little side of hate.  I love love love their cheery colors and fun designs, and they’re very comfortable.  I found that wearing compression socks all the time when I run has helped to cut way down on the shin splints problem, and ProCompression is ALWAYS running deals and promotions so I was able to get a bunch of these socks for not too much money.  They’re very supportive, and I think they’ve held up well in the wash.

They do give me blisters on longer runs, though.  I wish the feet had a little more padding -- I like the support at the ankles so I don’t want to switch to compression sleeves, but I wish the feet of the ProCompression socks were just a bit comfier.  

I will say: I had a problem with one of my pairs, and the customer service was great -- they quickly sent me a replacement pair without making me return my defective ones.  LOVE that!

3) Body Gilde:

Everyone I talk to swears by this stuff, but I don’t get it.  It makes my thighs feel like they’re sticking together even more.  I keep thinking I must be using it wrong, but there don’t seem to be that many options for how to use it...I’m still running in 3/4 tights and it’s over 90, so I think I need to figure something else out!

4) Rocktape:

Let’s be real: I have no idea what this stuff does. My chiropractor uses it, plus some guy at a race showed me how to tape my shins, and I SWEAR it makes a difference even though I honestly have no idea if I’m doing it right.  Maybe it’s the illusion of taking action, but taping the outsides of my shins and my achilles/inside of calf has also really helped cut down on shin pain.  I feel like maybe if I don’t think too much about it, it’ll keep helping!

5) Balega hidden comfort socks: 

I freaking love these socks.  I don’t wear them much for running now (see above post on compression socks) but they’re the most comfortable socks I own by a long shot.  I wish all things in life could be as comfortable as these socks!

6) Garmin Forerunner 220: 

This watch is an older model, and it didn’t quite cut it. I used if for my training and for my half marathon, which seems to have finally done it in.  The GPS didn’t work very well during my training, and it only recorded about 6 miles of my half marathon.  I’m considering saving up for a nicer watch with a heart rate monitor, so would love suggestions of what people like and use!  

7) Lululemon Swiftly Arm Warmers:

Okay real life problem: as a crossfit girl, I don’t fit into all running clothes.  This was an actual problem when it comes to arm warmers -- I have big girl arms, and I tried a couple of pairs at the sports store and was a bit afraid that arm warmers might not be an option for me.  However, I found these at Lulu -- they use the same stretchy material as Lululemon’s swiftly shirts, and they fit my sizeable arms and stayed up for ten miles without a problem.

That said, I’m not sure that I needed arm warmers.  I hate being cold, and I have a tendency to overdress for runs.  I wore them with a tank on a 55 degree day, and I think I’d have warmed up just fine without them (and if it had been any colder, I’d have wanted actual sleeves).  I only wore them the one time, and it’s hard for me to image they’re going to get a lot of wear.

8) Nike sunglasses

These were my last pre-half marathon purchase; I didn’t end up wearing them on the half (it rained) but I’ve gotten a ton of use out of them.  One of the most frustrating things on my failed attempt at the Cherry Blossom 10-miler was that my cheapo target sunglasses kept fogging -- it was muggy out (it’s DC, after all!) and I could not keep them clear.  I hustled out and bought some actual sports sunglasses after that, and I’m glad I did.  I bought mine at Nordstrom Rack for about $50, and it was $50 well spent -- they’re WAAAY better than what I got at Target!  They don’t fog up, and they’re pretty comfy.  They even ran a Spartan Super with me, and survived the mud!  

9) Momentum Jewelry Motivate Wrap: I’m not going to lie, I got a little sucked into the running social media on this one -- and I can’t say I’m sad I did!  I got a “Nevertheless She Persisted” motivate wrap, and I wore it for my half marathon.  This definitely doesn’t fall into the category of crucial gear, but it was a fun little confidence boost for a tough race.  I keep forgetting to wear it when I go out running, and since I’m not using a GPS watch right now I’m not sure how much I’d see it when I was running anyway, but it’s a fun little motivator.  The bracelet is of good quality -- I’d definitely recommend it for anyone looking for little ways to keep themselves going!

10) Flipbelt: I didn’t hate the Flipbelt.  I’m religious about running with my ID, credit card, and my phone, and the Flipbelt was an okay-enough way of carrying all these things (and more) with me.  I don’t love it -- it’s not very comfortable, and depending on what bottoms I have on it sometimes rides up.  However, I found it way more comfortable than other belts/vests/pocket options.  As long as I’m wearing the Orange Mud vest I don’t need it, and in the winter my running jacket has a great back pocket for all my stuff, but on some of my shorter runs the flipbelt still gets worn.  It’s really not a bad option...I just wish I didn’t need it!

So there it is: a list of some of the multitude of STUFF I bought as a beginner runner!  I must say, running companies have done a magnificent job of marketing through social media -- a lot of the runners I follow on Instagram are “Ambassadors” for various companies, and I sure did buy a lot of stuff thinking it would make running less hard.  None of this stuff did that, though I’d definitely suggest to other beginning runners that they take the time to find a hydration option they like, as well as socks and sunglasses.  

Next up: a rundown of the shoe experience.  It took me 6 tries to find a pair of shoes I liked, but I LOVE the ones I ended up with!