#literally every suggestion she made as a form of improvement would have been better than the actual thing

[ladytemeraire]

The main thought ringing in my head at the three-quarter mark of Jenny Nicholson's Star Wars Hotel video is how badly Disney missed the mark on not targeting the demographic of LARPers, cosplayers, and RenFest nerds as opposed to... whoever the hell they were actually targeting, with that combination of experience and price point.

Like. Not to further out myself as a massive goddamn dork, but there was a span of nearly ten years where I was going to the Ohio RenFest at least once a season, every season. And even there, the years where I went in some form of costume and played along with the actors as opposed to wearing jeans and a t-shirt, my experience was so much richer. There was such a different level of banter and playfulness and entertainment when I actively leaned into the immersion. I had so much fun interacting with the shopkeeps and cast members as an elf or random Fantasy Medieval Maiden, because they saw the costume and on some level went, "You! You are One Of Us!" and matched that energy, and thus gave me the chance to match it in return.

(One year, early on, when my "costume" was a frilly blouse, leggings, boots, elf ears, and a hastily sewn cloak, I had a random older gentleman run up to our group, press a gold coin into my palms, kiss the back of my hand in a very respectful and courtly manner, and disappear into the crowd. No context, no further story or plot or interaction, but almost fifteen years later I still have that gold coin on a shelf of tchotchkes.)

Watching every time Jenny tried so desperately to lean into the Galactic StarCruiser/overall Star Wars experience, to actively engage with the story and the characters, only to be lowkey ignored or actively rebuffed or scorned, legitimately broke my heart a little. (The bit in the experience finale where she was like "it felt like we were supposed to respond somehow, but I didn't because it was embarrassing, which is its own form of Force torture" was simultaneously hilarious and extremely relatable and incredibly sad.) Setting aside the issues with the app and tech, let alone the refusal to address legitimate complaints until she took to Twitter, not even getting a hint of reciprocal interaction from the actors when your choices supposedly matter in your overall experience would be so incredibly disheartening.

Ohio RenFest tickets were about $20 when I started going in high school, plus whatever food and merchandise you wanted to buy. Nowadays, even with inflation, they're still only $35 for adult tickets, which gets you access to everything, and you can absolutely get a full day's experience out of that with only the additional cost for food and beverages. I cannot fathom spending six thousand fecking dollars for two days ("two dollars per person per minute" will live rent free in my head for a while) on what is supposedly an immersive experience, marketed as living out your Star Wars story, only to get the absolute bare minimum in return. It really feels like such an indicator of how modern-day Disney is willing to cut corners as much as possible while leaning on brand recognition, and especially on nostalgia, in order to milk every last red cent out of their customers, until they run out of both money and goodwill. And that is so, so incredibly sad.

[essayofthoughts]

First, I just want to say that all your AUs are literally amazing and I want to read every single one, they're just so great!! I'd personally love to know more about the fem!Percy and masc!Vex AUs (the dynamics sounds super interesting, and I'd love to hear your expanded thoughts on that), as well as Murder on the Exandrian Express, which just sounds like sooo much fun. Who are they killing? Why? Does it follow the exact format as Orient Express or are there new angles and characters? Who knows!

Aw, I'm glad you like them! Hopefully I'll get to all of them in time; if I end up moving on to a new fandom I have already determined I'll post all unfinished fics and notes to AO3 for adoption. But in the meantime!

fem!Percy is a quiet favourite of mine, because a Percy socialised to lean more on soft power, to be less of a stuffy young man and more of a stuffy young woman, and the social expectations that follow at her social class, like...

I know Exandria is better about gender than our world but 1. It isn't perfect and has gotten better over the campaigns, which are also happening on a timeline! Suggesting that the improvement is constant and continual; that there are improvements to be made even in C1, 2. Gender stratification tends to become a bit more distinct at higher classes, where the leisure time to be a picky authoritarian bitch is more present, and 3. the de Rolos came from Wildemount and are based on Prussian nobility; that implies links to the Prussian inspired Dwendalian Empire and German-themed Zemni Fields, and we know the Empire is pretty authoritarian.

So. They probably mean well and have ostensible equality and fairness, but there would still be implicit Baggage passed down and boy do I want to play with that.

Canon Percy is such a traditional like... polymath genius young man, allowed the leisure time to indulge his interests, to be a bit obnoxious and socially oblivious. But historically women have been expected to do some degree of socialising - to exert that soft power - and that'd impede a female Percy's ability to study, this expectation of social normativity.

And that's interesting! A Percy who's a bit more shy about her interests because she was, intentionally or not, subtly discouraged from them. A Percy who's even better at social things by necessity, but also maybe dislikes and resents it - until she gets to use it to help her friends. A Percy who perhaps looks up to Doctor Ripley as an example of what she could do if perhaps she was only given more freedom to do so (and perhaps a Doctor Ripley who looks at Percy and resents, because here is a young woman with all the leisure time and funding she likes to apply to her education, spoiled as she never was).

A Percy who, not unlike canon Percy, is probably extra uncomfortable explaining her scars. In canon it's traumatising for Percy and he avoids discussing it like the plague, but he's also got the level keel of "Ripley is awful" to anchor himself on. A Percy who looked up to Ripley and who was then so severely hurt and violated by another woman, who she'd wanted to extend trust and friendship to - that would sting badly. It'd be not unlike female-socialised bullying all over again - lies and deception, manipulation, ostracisation. "Of course we'd never let you play with us, why would you ever think so?"

It's extremely insidious and given how we know Percy overthinks things I'd love to see how that impacts a female Percy with that kind of social baggage - we know canon Percy was ostracised a bit by his cousins and classmates from some of the things Taliesin's said; given female socialisation and expectations a fem!Percy likely would experience that too, just in a different form.

Now, masc!Vex on the other hand...

Vex gets a lot of her way by persuading - often aided by flirting -to convince people to help them. Given, as I've established above, C1 Exandria isn't perfect with gender and there is some gendered expectations going on in certain parts of it and that the twins spent some upbringing in high society in Syngorn which is again stratified and also authoritarian (even more so than the Dwendalian Empire - elven partners in Syngorn aren't allowed to have children unless they gain permission from those in authority!), a masc!Vex using those same tactics would come across very differently. In canon Vex can get away with being quite forward because that kind of flirting isn't generally seen as being so aggressive from a woman - even though at times one could argue she is being so! - but from a man, that flirting could feel a lot more pressuring. And, the thing is, we know Vex. We know how perceptive and aware she is - I don't think a masc!Vex would want to be that imposing to people, especially people he's trying to convince to help. I can see a masc!Vex being much more conventionally charming, still occasionally flirtatious but much more obviously as a joke or a tease, to take that pressure off, and - here's the big game-changer in a lot of ways - a lot more cautious with pet names and endearments.

Yeah, my masc!Vex is going to use "dear" and "darling" sparingly. (It'll hit so much harder, I promise.)

And then, from another angle: as established, gendered bullshit. We saw how the characters teased and joked Vax for his interest in Gilmore. It's not unlikely that Percy, while bi (... he's a Taliesin character, I refuse to believe this boy isn't queer) has nonetheless tacitly absorbed the idea that while male-male relationships aren't wrong they aren't As Good As male-female relationships, and consequently tamped down on any acknowledgement of his own queerness. He's not unaware but he prefers not to look too closely at it. And then, in canon, he ends up with Vex, so it's not something he needs to think on.

In this, he ends up with Vex too. And that means he has some shit to process first - to acknowledge that he is interested in Vex, that he is attracted to Vex, to unpack the baggage he imbibed intentionally or not. Unpacking one's own heteronomativity can be a whole Thing and I'm looking forward to digging into that just as much as I am how Vex's Everything changes (I have not here even gotten into how the twins closeness would be different in this AU - another time perhaps!).

And. Lastly. Murder on the Exandrian Express.

You seem to think that it's Perc'ahlia who'll be doing the murderer.

My darling, they are Poirot.

There's some other people on the train committing a murder - carefully planned for and managed and explained (and, frankly, justified, Ickythong deserves it, and I've found a way to explain how he gets there too because it's me and I overthink everything) - and I'm going to have so much fun.

Also, Percy gets to build a train! Not the same as a skyship, but lets be honest, a train is still his kind of fun.

Send me asks about my fic ideas!

[salvatricesm]

The Lost Formula: Genetic Mutation

This story was created solely for agency purposes. All characters and the story belong to their respective owners. I do not permit nor have I engaged in any form of plagiarism while writing this story.

By the time she made it to the lab she had only minutes to spare and her lungs were heaving as she saw several scraps of a crumpled paper lying on the floor. There were various markings on the piece of paper, which was of yellowish colour and to which looked as though has been squeezed and crumpled several times, the writings on the surface of the paper were in very small clear writings as if written in haste. Still, she went on, her eyes growing more and more slits as she tried to focus better on the writings.

What she found was a recipe in the literal sense but not one that could be preparing food for a large group people. This was something far more honeful, a list of extremely dangerous chemicals ndicted for mixing. The instructions though written rather disorderly were comprehensible by her despite a certain amount of straining.

Out of the two, one of the formulas was named as CSR-9X which was referred to as a ‘gene-shifter’ potion. It appeared to propose that this combination could be employed in cloning to improve the clones’ genes and that with another substance called ADN-04, the clones would become stronger. Notes described this ADN-04 as a serum that promoted fast healing and growth, a serum that helps the beings to regain their strength at a very fast rate in the event of an injury.

The more she read further those articles, she became tensed. Referring to antibiotics, a chemical called MNX-22 was introduced as a compound associated with memory boosting. Did this mean there was a plan to grant the clones the ability to learn faster, to be smarter than the average human being? This caused a ripple of cold that ran down her spine.

She started reading on, now with the pounding of her heart in her chest. The subsequent products are HX-7 and ALX-5 which were presented as molecules capable of providing the clones with a healthy immune system to diseases. It was quite frightening to think of having created beings that could never become ill, or recover extremely rapidly from almost any kind of injury. She would hardly think it possible to meet a man like that, a man who seemed to be practically immune to all danger.

But then she came across something that made her blood run cold Strange as it may sound, it often happened like that. ALX-5 was also mentioned to cause massive destruction of the affected tissue. It dawned on her with horrifying clarity: as this warped scheme suggest, in addition to transplant the clone as a new breed with enhanced characteristics, whoever was behind this plan had as an ultimate goal the extermination of the human race. This was not an experiment only, but a blueprint for genocide of an entire people.

Salva then gulped, The truth knocked the bottom off her feet. She was endangered and her life was that of a non-entity and not worth protected. Without a second thought she spun on her heel and ran going faster and faster until her footsteps were pounding against the laboratory’s cold and sterile corridors. She had to get out, had to warn the others before it was too soon to go back for the body of a man who had tried to rape her. He was vividly conscious of the desire which is within every woman down to the tips of her toes to get out of this part of the world before she comes aghast and often at the unsuccessful finish of the pioneers of this great city.

Salva was practically running with her heart beating in her chest but she had to she had to get out of that building quickly. She had to survive. She had to survive the ordeal, that’s for sure.

Characters: 3533 Words: 638 Written by: 无畏

[mycrofts-gunbrella]

Caring is the Greatest Advantage- Part 3 (Mycroft Holmes x Reader)

AN- Thank you for the patience for this one! My little boy has been unwell so it has taken a little longer than I had hoped but here is the third instalment! It’s a little shorter than the others but that’s because I wanted to contain the angsty part in one chapter, the next ones will hopefully be longer..

This one is a little more angsty, a lot more emotional, but I’m quite happy with the outcome and I hope you are too! As usual, please let me know any thoughts/feedback! And enjoy!

Word Count: 2510

"Is it just me that finds Stephen Fry a bit.. sexy?" You spoke, watching the television as Young Ones' Scumbag College competed on University Challenge. "I don't know what it is about him. He's just.. got such a lovely voice, and he's so sodding clever and his CLOTHES- got much better looking with age, mind." Mycroft only hummed, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

"Hmm.. He's not really my type." You laughed and petted his head fondly.

"You don't have to be gay to find another man attractive Myc." You mused. "Me and Greg talk about it all the time, though he fancies Hugh Laurie more, especially in Blackadder." You laughed, thinking back on the memory of Greg's fondness of George in the Blackadder Goes Forth series.

"I'm aware that sexuality and attraction are not the same, Y/N. I am comfortable enough in my own heterosexuality to appreciate another man's features. In fact, I very much agree with Gregory's view on Mr Laurie. Stephen, however, is not my type. The few people that did speak to me in University used to tell me I reminded them of him in the way I behaved but, and I quote, 'without even a lick of his humour, you miserable bastard.' Thus, I cannot look at him in that way." He laughed a little and you cleared your throat.

"Oh.. uh, yeah I guess that makes sense. Not the humour part though, you're actually hilarious and they missed out big time." You tried to avoid the point where you'd deemed Stephen Fry sexy in every way he was similar to the man who was laying in your lap, and just hoped he wouldn't bring that up.

"He definitely got the looks side of things though, particularly as General Melchett in Goes Forth, though I am not particularly fond of the facial hair." He screwed up his nose in distaste, you fighting every ounce of your control to not say he looked a bit cute. "And certainly didn't have the waistline that 21 year old Mycroft had."

"Speaking in the third person now, are we? Well, Mycroft, Y/N is comfortable enough in her friendship that Y/N thinks Mycroft can be sexy in his own ways too." You teased, partly embarrassed, but equally just trying any way to improve the man's confidence, even by a little. Mycroft choked a little on his own saliva and had to sit up to regain his own breath. Too far? "Sorry." He shook his head 'no' but didn't speak. In his moments of regaining his composure, Mycroft watched you. Processed in his head what you had said- 'was it a joke?', he couldn't read anything on you that would suggest that, though his eyes were glassy from the choking- watched as you panicked, then subsiding the panic to concern as you made sure he was okay. All these things, he thought, he didn't deserve. He took a deep breath and reached for the television remote, pausing the show and settling back on the other side of the sofa. It had to be done now. Done while his brain was allowing it, before he got attached... before he got attached even more. He couldn't keep pretending it was okay, keep accepting your compliments and your kindness, couldn't allow himself to go any further in his.. attraction?

It was always unspoken between the two of you- your not so subtle hints to Mycroft over the last few years hadn't got unnoticed, Mycroft would be lying to himself if he didn't admit that he felt the same way, though this was perhaps the most open you had been; he would always put it off, try to think of reasons why you shouldn't be more than whatever you are now- most of the time it circles back to work, your busy schedule at the Yard and his unpredictable working hours mostly, saying to himself that it would simply be pointless, that you wouldn't see each other. But he knew that was a lie- you see him as often as you can, even if it's just for an hour on lunch, and everyone knows he would do his best to move empires to have you over for dinner had it been a while, quite literally actually.

Then there was age, you were in your mid-to-late twenties, he in his forties, though that argument also fell flat after you had mentioned your last long term relationship had been with a man your elder, amongst many of your interests in celebrity males that you had mentioned being closer to his age than yours- and, on his behalf, it was usual for a Politician to walk into formal dinners with a younger woman on arm. In the end, it all went back to the real reason Mycroft put everything off, a reason he hated admitting to even himself. Mycroft was scared.

Having been the age he is with no sexual experience, no previous relationships, and not even many friendships, he was terrified he would humiliate himself and you would leave him completely. You were both adults, both clever, you both knew there was always 'something' there, but without you ever acting upon it, Mycroft decided to live his life keeping you as a friend rather than risk not having you at all. He felt guilty enough having you here anyway. He couldn't allow you to keep stroking his hair like that, or letting you sleep in his bed with him, hold him as he snored, when it was for completely other desires in his own mind, not without speaking to you. No, that wouldn't be fair- even if he didn't fully understand everything himself and was still incredibly scared. You needed to know the truth, about everything, and, if there were the slightest chance you'd forgive him, he had decided he couldn't wait any longer, couldn't put it off anymore, he wanted you to carry on doing those things, wanted to continue the nights you would stay in his bed. But Mycroft wanted it to change, he wanted to be able to start the night with a ghost of his hand on your hip, without waiting until you were asleep to bring himself to have that courage, to wake up next to you and not feel the awkward need to move so soon, just to stay a little longer. Christ, Mycroft wanted every cliché in the book with you, and it took him until yesterday to realise how much he wanted that, after nearly losing you. And he needed you to know, even if it risked it all.

"Y/N I-"

"I know, I'm sorry, I took it too far I was just messing about.. Not that I didn't mean it, I wasn't joking about you.. You are very attractive, but it was inappropriate.. I shouldn't have said it.. I just wanted to help.. though I don't think it did, might have made it worse, actually.. Didn't want to say anything and let you find out.. like that.. not that it matters.. because I AM happy JUST being your friend, over the moon, actually.. so I don't want you to think I ruined that... Because I know you don't feel.. like that.. and you're not saying anything which is scaring me a little because you're always talking.. Not that I don't like that.. I love you talking to me, you've got a lovely voice.. and.. and I'm going to shut up again.. sorry.. again.." You rambled, a lot, too much.. far too much. Mycroft tried to process everything, his eyes closing at every word. You were making this so much harder for him, admitting everything like that. Mycroft hunched forward in his position and braced his elbows on his knees, index and middle finger of each hand holding the weight of his head by his temples.

"No just.. Just stop talking for a moment." Mycroft snapped, cutting you off as your mouth opened to speak a little, the small jump back made his gaze soften. "Please." He spoke softer, apologetic. "I can't.. talk about that.. not yet. Not until you know.." You went to speak again but his head tilted, eyes containing a rare glaze of vulnerability, trying to stay in contact with your own but constantly dropping back to his lap- a silent plea to stay quiet, be patient and just give him a moment. And you did. Turning your body completely sideways, you crossed your legs on the sofa, hands resting folded in your lap as you encouraged him to continue with a brief nod of your head. "I fear if I don't tell you of yesterday's happenings in this very moment that I never shall, and that is far too selfish, even of me." He took a deep breath in. "But I just.. need a moment. A few, likely, throughout." You nodded your head again.

From there, Mycroft began to explain everything that had happened, told you of his sister, where she had taken him, Sherlock and John, what she spoke about, what she tried to get them to do. His voice cracked every so often, knuckles whitened as his fists clenches, creases formed in his trousers where he squeezed his hand on them, but you listened to every word and stayed silent- eyes welling with small tears. Mycroft spoke of the screen, told you of the snipers that were out there, targeting Ms Hudson and Molly. Your body stiffened as he added Lestrade to the list, feeling your throat tighten a little at the mere thought of losing Greg. Mycroft pressed on, told you about how Eurus tried to make Sherlock choose between him and John, told you how he'd tried to convince Sherlock to just shoot him, how Sherlock refused and threatened to shoot himself. His voice went breathless at the end of that, the idea of losing his brother so easily still fresh in his mind. You loosened your sitting position and leaned over, taking Mycroft's hand in your own and squeezing. He sighed again and closed his eyes.

"Please, don't." He whispered, trying to fold his hand into a fist to escape your embrace. You didn't let go and offered your other hand on his back in support as you watched a stray tear fall down his cheek. "I said don't!" He shouted, moving from your touch and standing up from the sofa, beginning to pace as his face contorted into more pain, another tear following the path of the last. You sat back, watched him, didn't take the anger to heart. "It was my fault! All of it!" He ran his hands through his hair and tugged, moving them after to wipe the droplets from his cheek.

"Myc it's ok-"

"It isn't okay Y/N! No part of any of this is even remotely close to okay!" He stilled now, posture going back rigid as he looked at you, eyes bloodshot and glassy. He told you of his Birthday present to Eurus- five unsupervised minutes with Moriarty- and started his pacing again. "A man died yesterday because of me. Sherlock, John, Greg, Ms Hudson, Molly. They all almost died yesterday. You almost... you almost died yesterday." His breath hitched again, lip softly quivering at the end of his words. You tensed a little and frowned, confused and urging him to elaborate. "They weren't the only people on the screens, not the only ones with a red dot on their heads, Y/N." Gaze avoiding you now, turned completely to face the wall rather than look at you at all- giving him a chance to compose himself, steadying his voice. "I saw you, you were happy, just dancing and making tea, but at any moment you could have... and it would have been my fault. And I know I should have told you yesterday, it was selfish of me using you the way that I have without letting you know everything. You could have been gone before I could tell you everything, before I could explain how I feel about you, and it all came rushing to me the moment I saw your face on that screen. I’m so sorry, for everything, for ignoring everything, for being the reason you almost-" The last thing Mycroft had expected was the feeling of arms around his waist, the feeling of a head resting between his shoulder blades, soaking the shirt with tears. You sniffed, holding onto him tighter as you cried into his back.

"It's okay Mycroft." You spoke, voice croaking from tears. "They're okay.. I'm okay. And you're going to be okay. I'm not going anywhere." The relief Mycroft felt from your words ran through his body as he slumped a little, left hand holding on to where yours joined on his stomach, his right lifting to his eyes where, in a very rare moment, he allowed himself to weep.

***

Neither of you were too sure on how long you stayed like that, Mycroft being held in your arms as he quietly cried into his hand, you into his back, but it was long enough that your feet were beginning to ache and Mycroft had become silent a short while ago. You attempted to loosen your grip but Mycroft quickly grabbed back at your hands, holding them to him again. You changed your tactic and instead circled round until your hands remained together on his back, you now at his front and you gave him one last squeeze before guiding him backwards to the sofa, taking your place next to him but keeping your arms around him.

"I'm sorry." His voice was broken, quieter than usual. You shook your head and fought the urge to cry again.

"Don't." You spoke, sliding a hand down to hold his own that rested on his thigh. "Don't apologise Myc. You didn't do anything on purpose, you were just trying to be a good person.. a good brother. We're both still alive. Sherlock, John, Greg, Ms Hudson, Molly, they're all fine, and I have no doubt that it was partly due to you that they are still okay- whatever the three of you did in there, it worked, and that's all that matters to me." Mycroft shifted, his eyes finding yours once more, scanning, searching, trying to find anything that showed you were lying, that you didn't trust him anymore, but he couldn't find anything.

"But I-" You placed a hand at the back of his neck and leaned forward slightly, your lips meeting his briefly for a few seconds before pulling back. It wasn't desperate, or longing, or out of lust- it was everything Mycroft needed. Everything that let him know that you weren't going anywhere, that you still wanted to be around him, to be with him. He relaxed but didn't speak, his hand beneath yours just turning to allow your fingers to lace together as he let out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding. You rested your head against his shoulder, smiling softly as you felt his own rest atop yours before falling into a comfortable silence.

[airi-p4]

Love in the sky

I wrote this for the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers LBSC Sprint challenge - Meet cute week event and, once again, I got carried away and broke all the rules. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Prompt: Sitting next to each other on the plane.

Summary: Marinette is going to NY on an international flight for the first time. What she doesn’t know is that the one seated next to her is the popular new band Kitty Section’s guitarist: Luka Couffaine.

Thank you @livrever for checking it for me 💙

AO3

______________________________________

Marinette rushed through the aisle of the plane. She couldn’t believe she almost missed it! her first international trip to the US! Stupid alarm! Of course she was tired. She was so nervous she couldn’t sleep all night… until 5AM… and the plane departed at 10AM… and obviously she had to oversleep. *sigh*

Running, tripping and spinning on her feet, she finally searched for her seat. 38B - aisle seat. Her pink polka dotted suitcase was heavy, but thanks to the cabin attendant she could finally put it inside the overhead bin, while her backpack rested under the seat in front of her. All set, she let her weight fall on the seat at last and let out a deep breath as she fastened her seatbelt.

The doors of the plane closed, and the PA message started: Welcome on board… Security instructions… Marinette wasn’t listening. Her legs were uncontrollably shaking, and her fingers were fidgeting with the laces of her hoodie.

Those nerves and stress couldn’t be healthy.

She examined her surroundings, and, next to her, someone was sleeping. Someone, who appeared to be a young man, with a sleeping eye mask and a face mask on, messy blue hair showing under a knit hat and a blanket covering his body. Overall, it didn't give much more information about her plane's seat neighbor. Not wanting to wake him up, she focused on the rest of the passengers instead. Why were all of them so quiet when she felt her heart could burst out of her chest anytime?

The plane started its runaway and Marinette closed her eyes tightly when it raised from the lane. Once in the air, she started breathing again, but her heart was still beating fast.

"First time on a plane?" a masculine voice beside her asked.

She turned to her side, and looked at the person seated next to her. His eye mask was over his head now, and she could see his blue eyes clearly, while his blue bangs partly covered his eyebrows.

“Y- yes!” she squeaked.

“You’re making me nervous too. Calm down, it’s going to be ok” he assured.

“I- I know!" She said, but her body wasn’t obeying. “I’m sorry...”

The young man sighed. “Look, I’ve been on a plane many times. It’s safe. Why don’t you try to sleep? It’s going to be a long flight.”

“I- I can’t! I’m too nervous! I’ve never traveled alone before, plus my career depends on this trip! I can’t stay calm!”

“Why don’t you try listening to some music, then? It always helps me relax” the young man offered her a sympathetic look.

“Music…?” she blinked. ‘It could work’.

She plugged the earphones and put them in her ears. Then, she scrolled through the music programs on the touch screen in front of her. Classical music? For some reason, it only made it worse. Country music? Not her style. XY? Hell, no. Her eyes stopped at the name of a fairly new band: “Kitty Section”. She played the video called: “Kitty Section's Paris Live Concert”.

“Good choice” the man next to her said when the title started showing on the screen.

Marinette had heard about the band called Kitty Section. They had featured in most of her favorite magazines after they won Eurovision several months ago, but she wasn't familiar with their music. In less than a minute, she was hooked and forgot completely about her surroundings or her nerves.

“Wow!” she mumbled, mesmerized, and the man next to her let out a snicker.

The music was amazing- the rock vibes, their stage presence, the vocalists’ cuteness and high ranged voice, the accurate and insane drums, the gorgeous purple haired bassist… all of them sounded incredible. But the guitarist… the blue haired guitarist was extraordinary- unbelievably good. Not only talented, but also powerful, charismatic and incredibly handsome.

“They’re good, huh?” The man beside her commented and she nodded. She could tell he was smiling under his face mask. She nodded in agreement.

“I had never heard them properly before but damn- they are incredible” Marinette answered, and he laughed. Her fingers tapped rhythmically, following the beat of the song.  “But…" she continued, observing. "I think they could do better. There’s a margin of improvement,” she said with judging eyes.

“Oh, really? How?” The blue-eyed man asked, curious, resting his elbow on the arm rest to get a closer look.

“The costumes,” Marinette pointed out. Then, she reached her backpack under her feet and took out a sketchbook and a pen and started drawing. “The outfits could be improved if they added this, and this” she signaled. “And this-” She kept scribbling while the blue-haired man observed and listened to her suggestions. “And ta-da! Wouldn’t they look even better if they were like this?” She proudly showed him her designs, only to realize she was being embarrassing towards a stranger. “Ah, sorry- I got carried away…” She apologized. But the man took the sketchbook in his hands.

“Let me see,” he said, and she saw how his eyes examined every detail of her drawings. She gulped nervously. It felt like her skills were being tested. But the man took his face mask off and smiled. “Wow, that’s impressive. Fresh, charismatic, unique- and perfectly according to the band's style. I love them" he returned her the sketchbook. "You’re very talented. Are you famous? Do you take commissions?” He asked, and she looked at him speechless.

“I- I’m still a no-one… Is it really impressive?” She looked at him and blushed at the compliment.

“Yes, I think so. What would you do with this outfit?” He asked, showing him a photo of the same band on his smartphone. Her inspiration overflowed as she kept drawing and explaining her ideas. They kept discussing costumes and visual aspects of the band and chatted comfortably for a long time.

"I think Rose should go with something more… daring, bolder. She looks innocent but she's fierce inside. Of course, cuteness is her main trait, so I think she should combine both" she explained, coloring her design with colored pencils. "I think something like this would be perfect for her" she showed him her sketchbook and he was impressed. “As for Juleka-” She continued, turning to a blank page. “She’s so beautiful. I wish she didn’t cover her face so much, even if the mystery look is really attractive too…" She stopped drawing for a moment to admire the bassist on the screen. "Gosh- She's so gorgeous! I wish I was that beautiful” she commented.

“I think you’re even more beautiful than her, you know?” The blue-haired man casually said, and she shyly blushed with a 'no way' frantic arms movements. “What about the guitarist?” he asked, raising an eyebrow with a smug smile.

“Luka Couffaine? OH LORD SHOW MERCY- Have you seen him? And his eyeliner? It should be ILLEGAL to be this HOT” She said, convinced.

“Hmmm… So you like him, huh?” He teased, his smile widening.

“Who doesn’t, really?” She shrugged. “He’s literally the SEXIEST man alive. His eye contact with the camera could kill! Oh, and whenever he gets shirtless on stage or photoshoots? GOD- I almost get a nosebleed EVERY FREAKING TIME! He's TOO DAMN HOT" She fanned herself at the image. "Don’t you agree?" She asked and he blinked twice. "You like him too, right? You have so many photos of them in your phone! I bet he’s making you question your sexuality too, like he does with all my friends! How could anyone resist those blue eyes and his manly features, his soft looking blue hair and- his tattoos..." She looked away from her seat neighbor's blue piercing eyes, and focused at the smartphone screen again, to a close-up photo of Kitty Section’s guitarist. "How did you get these close-up casual photos...?” she asked, and then she noticed the tattoo on his neck. She looked back and forth at the man seated next to her and the one in the picture. ‘It couldn't be, right…?’ And at that moment, when he had a knowing smile on his face- one she knew too well-, she realized who he was seated next to on the plane. Her eyes opened as big as plates and she overheated. He was smirking amusingly at her reaction. “You- You- You are-? Lu-Lu-Luk- It can’t be…”

He nodded to confirm her suspicions and her jaw fell to the floor. “Hi. I think I haven't introduced myself yet. My name is Luka. But I think you already know that. It’s nice to meet you.” He chuckled, straightening his hand for a handshake.

“Oh God, kill me now...” She mumbled, sinking on the table. Luka snickered.

“What’s your name?”

“Ma-Ma-Marinette… I mean- Marinette!” She felt his eyes on her and panicked. “Excuse me- I- I need a moment... This- This is too much- Oh My God...” She stood up and rushed to the end of the plane, not without tripping twice on her way there.

________________________

While Marinette was gone, the two ladies in front of Luka and Marinette’s seats turned to Luka. “Having fun?” They smirked, knowingly. He was chuckling, having real trouble to keep his laugh from escaping.

“Oh, God, Yes. This is so much fun." He wiped the tears that were forming on his eyes. "I think I’ve found our potential new costume designer” he continued laughing under his nose.

“Only that? I think there’s more...” Juleka smirked, and Rose giggled in agreement by her side. He couldn't deny it: his sister was totally right.

Behind Luka's seat, Kitty Section's drummer, Ivan and his girlfriend Mylene had been enjoying the show the blue-eyed pair had been giving. It was definitely more entertaining than any movie. It would have been perfect if they had popcorn to accompany their fortunate first row seats to the hilarious show. They also approved Marinette's designs.

Luka took the chance Marinette wasn't there to freely stand up, go talk to their managers and stretch his legs for a bit.

_________________________

Back at the end of the plane, Marinette drank some juice and moved to the bathroom. She was panicking in front of the mirror, talking to herself.

“OH. MY. GOD. I’m seated next to Luka Couffaine! For at least… 5 hours more!? And I just called him hot! And- And- he said I’m beautiful and talented! And- Oh my God, he asked me for commissions, right? This can’t be real- I-" her feet wiggled uncontrollably and she let out a long squeak. "Ahh… Calm down, Marinette! He’s human- A sexy human, but still human! He’s famous but very friendly, kind and nice. And fun! It’s going to be alright. Just- Avoid his eyes. That’s it. It’s dangerous. Don’t fall in love. You’re not a teenager anymore, you’re over that stage, right? Only a few hours more. You can do it. I CAN DO IT!” She convinced herself with a confident nod and returned to her seat, only to find Luka was gone.

She looked for him from her seat, at her surroundings, but he was nowhere to be found. She sighed in both relief and sadness as she seated.

For some reason, she was missing him. Which was stupid, considering they had just met! But his company was certainly enjoyable... And, moreover, it was FUN. More than she ever remembered having. And not only because she was passionate about fashion or music. It had to do with his aura, his personality, his gentle manners- just... Luka.

“Don’t worry, he’ll be back in a moment” A voice said from in front of her. “My brother is stupid, but he’s a decent person. Treat him well” The purple haired lady winked, beside a petit blond lady.

“Jul-!” She covered her mouth with her hands to stop herself from yelling her name. “And Rose-!?” 'Oh, no! They might have heard what I said too!' She panicked again and the ladies giggled amused.

“Ignore my sister and her girlfriend” Luka returned, and her face flustered when she noticed how tall and well built he was (not that she didn't know that, but it hit differently in first person). “Can I get back to my seat?” He politely asked, pointing at the window seat.

“Ah-! Yes! Of course!” She stood up so suddenly she tripped and fell on Luka’s chest. She immediately moved away in embarrassment, falling back instead, and Luka had to hold her again to avoid her imminent fall. “I’m sorry!”

“Are you ok?” He asked in concern, and she shyly nodded. Luka reluctantly let go of her and returned to his seat and Marinette settled back to hers.

Wait- Was that a blush on his face?

“Here” Luka offered her an envelope. “I don’t know what your plans in NY are but, here’s a VIP pass to our concert next Sunday. There’s also our contact card inside. I want you to consider the idea of working for us. Your costumes are impressive. We discussed it, and we want you in our team” Marinette had no words- totally speechless. Could she be this lucky? “What do you say?” Luka asked with a hopeful tender smile that made her weak.

“I- I’ll think about it. And- Oh God- I’ll totally be there for your concert” She blushed and Luka smiled kindly at her. Suddenly, she started searching inside her backpack, and took out a business card she offered him. “This is my contact. I- I have a fashion event next Monday. I would love you to come, if you can make it. Send me an email and I’ll get you some passes”

“Wow! That's impressive. I'll try to make it. Thank you, Marinette”

Marinette could hear her heart beating faster. No looking in his eyes, dammit. They kept talking for a while, enjoying their time together until they fell asleep out of exhaustion, Marinette’s head resting on Luka’s shoulder. He woke up earlier than her, but didn’t have the heart to wake her up until lunchtime. She looked like she really needed that rest.

When he left half of his lunch untouched, Marinette scolded him. “You have to eat! You’re too thin! Those abs and arms need consistency! Proteins!” She pointed at a photo of him shirtless and flustered again in embarrassment in realization. “Ah-”

Gosh- it really was fun, Luka thought, chucking. It was hard not to laugh out loud. Everything flowed so naturally it was unbelievable.

Damn. He didn’t want the plane to ever land.

“Marinette” he called, during their coffee time, and she looked back at him, redness still on her cheeks. “The plane will land soon but- Even if you don’t accept our offer… Is it possible for us to meet again? Out of business? Like this?”

Marinette flustered at his implications. “Do- Do you mean-?”

“A date. Would you go on a date with me, Marinette? Or just as friends, if you prefer. I like you, and I don’t think I’ve ever had this much fun with anyone else” He took Marinette’s pen and one of his ‘Kitty Section’ contact cards and wrote something behind it. “These are my personal telephone number and email. We'll be in NY until Friday next week. It would make me very happy if you contact me, whenever you prefer, anytime” He said, securing the card in her hands.

Marinette blushed, looked at the card with glowing eyes, and then at his honest loving stare. Was it even possible that the man everyone was gushing about was asking her out? But this had nothing to do with his stage persona. Luka was someone she more than enjoyed spending time with. Naturally, quietly, assuring… She had no doubts about her answer.  

“I want to meet you again, too” she stated, and wrote her personal number under his wristband. “I’m free on Wednesday” she shyly smiled, and his smile widened.

“Wednesday is it, then. I'll manage to find the time. Just for you." He smiled happily and only then she realized how deep she had fallen.

Ah- she hadn't wanted to fall in love. What a way to fail her own determination… But she couldn't complain, not at all.

And he felt the same way.

Luka and Marinette's hands locked together, and they lost themselves in each other’s eyes, smiling at each other.

“Why don’t you kiss her already, dumbass?” Juleka called, and Marinette blushed. “He won’t kiss you if you don’t give him proper permission, you know? He’s very considerate despite his looks. Tell him already”

“Jules… Why don’t you mind your business and make out with Rose instead?” He shushed his sister and Rose giggled, embracing Juleka. Luka returned his attention to Marinette. “Sorry about that”

“It’s ok… I-” She started, looking at his thin lips. “Will you kiss me if I want to? Because I think I do...”

“You do?” he asked, and she shyly nodded and he smiled softly, making her heart flutter.

She closed her eyes and he leaned closer to give her a sweet kiss on her cheek. She pouted a little, in disappointment, but he told her that, if she really wanted to kiss him, that would be the perfect excuse to meet him again and make it more special, like a beautiful lady like her deserved. Marinette understood his reasoning and agreed with it, despite the slight disappointment she felt she would have to wait a few days to get the chance to kiss him. Nevertheless, both of them happily smiled while their fingers remained interlaced, chatting and enjoying their time together the rest of the flight, until the plane landed and they had to unavoidably say their farewells.

“Thank you for everything, Luka. I forgot how scared I was of planes thanks to you and- I’ll see you soon?”

“I really hope so. I still owe you something, right?" He winked and she blushed happily. Luka gave her a final discreet and quick kiss on her knuckles. "Gosh- I miss you already...” He added, and Marinette felt the urge to cry. She dropped her bag to hold him in a needed embrace. He gladly reciprocated her gesture. Despite neither wanting to separate, they forced themselves to. "I hope I see you soon, Marinette"

"Me too, Luka…" she wiped her tears and waved, as the band started walking away.

When the arrivals doors opened and all the camera flashes blinded her, she understood why Kitty Section members always wore sunglasses in airports. They were more popular than she could have expected. She understood why he had refused to kiss her outside of the plane, but he still saluted her before disappearing in the multitude of fans and paparazzis.

On the other side, Sabrina, Audrey Bourgeois’ assistant, waited for her. She had almost forgotten about her own business. But now, she found the motivation she had lacked. If she was willing to be with Luka, she had to become the best. She wanted to make a name of herself, more than ever. And her meeting with Luka certainly boosted her confidence.

Unexpectedly, her trip to NY had already become one of her most memorable experiences yet. And it had just started! She couldn't wait to spend the rest of the week in the city.

[gqteach]

One of these days, I’ll actually manage to get a consistent post schedule going. Today isn’t that day, probably, but it’s worth a shot anyway.

I survived my first year teaching. I had like...3 or 4 posts last year before dropping off the face of the Earth, and that’s it, that’s a summary of the year. Being a teacher is even more time-consuming than I expected; I’m contracted for 6.25 hours every day, but I definitely work more like 8-9, especially since I tend to work through lunch.

“Contracted?” you say. “But Ro, aren’t you full-time and salaried?” Yes. Yes, I am. I do not understand it either. (Though I guess technically I’m not salaried because if I run out of sick days and still have to take off for chronic illness, I don’t get paid, so like. That’s fun.)

Last year was amazing and it was terrible. Sometimes at the same time. I caught COVID and gave my pre-existing chronic illness a partner with which to form a little family of evil in my body. The chronic fatigue is worse than ever, and I commute 2.5 hours plus the aforementioned 8-9 hours of work most days. But the work also made me happy, and I loved the kids, and I cried for like 45 minutes straight at graduation.

(One kid was like, “Mx, don’t cry! It’s a good thing!” and I laughed and promised him they were proud, happy tears.)

But y’all, my school hung the progress pride flag. The kids were like “We want this!” and though I am old and disillusioned, I didn’t voice my thought, which was that there was no way in hell it was gonna happen - and then it did. It went up the day after school ended, but it’s still there now, a week into the new school year.

People are still bad at my pronouns! Shockingly, one year is not enough for every person to overcome prejudices and habits. This is partly sarcastic and partly not. I really thought the “habit” camp would be better after this long, but some of them are just not putting in any effort. Including my co-teacher, though I’ve started correcting her again (to make a long, sad story short, I stopped last year out of fear for my job), and I’m trying to be on her about the kids, too. We have 4 or 5 trans kids in one period, and it’s one thing for her to misgender me all the time (literally all the time - I can’t think of once she’s gotten it right), but I’m not about to let that happen to the kids.

They switched my department this year since I was supposed to get a course team partner but (surprise!) finding another one of me with slightly different credentials is really difficult, so I don’t have said partner yet and there’s a long-term sub in there. Hopefully whoever they end up hiring will be cool, because I think I’ll die of exhaustion if I have to correct them and my co-teacher all the time.

I’m hoping the strain lessens as I get used to the schedule again, though I’ve definitely been sleeping on the train, try as I might to avoid it. In addition to my “Make school trans-friendly,” I’ll probably add “Make every weekend 3 days and also start school later” to my suggested improvements list.

Until next time, be that in a week, a month, or a year.

(8/28/2022)

[xenteaart]

You’re a Cat, Hargreeves

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader

Request 1: Hello, so Five has been through a LOT in just two weeks, so can I request something where the reader and him have a bit of intimacy but are not together yet. Then something happens that is just the last drop to him and he shows up to the reader with red and glossy eyes and collapses in her arms? She just holds him (because boy, he needs it) and after a while he manages to talk about things letting his feelings for her slip in the process. Then she can just calm him down and make him feel loved.

Request 2: Could I request a fanfic where Five has a terrible day at the Commission or in the Apocalypse and at bedtime the Reader comforts him, and he suddenly becomes the little spoon for the first time? Idk I think it would be cute to see him shy and secretly liking

!!! Note: Since these two requests have a common theme of Five being stressed as fuck and having a breakdown I’ve decided to combine them. Personally I imagine this scenario in my Commission AU, HOWEVER, I intentionally didn’t make it very specific in terms of the circumstances so you can headcanon whatever u like <3 also sorry its not the exact scenario from your requests but i hope you don’t mind me taking some creative liberty.

also both Five and Reader are in their 20s here coz otherwise i’m very uncomfortable

massive thanks to @wonders-of-the-multiverse​ for helping me out with wording the physicality of certain things <33333

GIF: @maxiemayfield​

You’ve seen Five in many different states.

You’ve seen him anxious and spiraling, you’ve seen him furious and borderline insane; depressed and distant, lost and confused. At this point, you genuinely thought you’d seen it all but, apparently, you were wrong.

“I am just so tired.” Five whispered almost inaudibly with a sigh so desperate that it made your stomach turn.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” you asked, your voice small as you weren’t quite sure how to act yet.

He glanced at you, and you couldn’t help but notice his eyes glistening with salty wetness that was about to spill out and smear his frustration all over his cheeks.

You always loved Five’s eyes - his huge, almost puppy dog eyes that made you absolutely lose yourself in their depth. Whenever you looked into them, you saw wisdom, maturity, exhaustion and patience, dedication and passion, all at the same time. There was a whole other universe behind his blue orbs, and you admired it endlessly. Looking into his eyes right now, however, was nowhere near as exciting and pleasant. Instead, it felt like some strange and violent ache was gripping you at the very heart and squeezing it without mercy, and you winced at the sensation as worry and concern were uncontrollably blossoming inside your ribcage.

Five didn’t grant you with an answer, too busy trying to hold back his tears and clenching his teeth proudly as if there was any point at all.

You got up on your feet and approached Five slowly, careful not to freak him out as you were giving him the time to get used to your presence in his personal space. Normally, he wouldn’t mind yet you couldn’t tell if the same rules applied to scenarios like the one taking place.

“I’m here, yeah? It’s okay, you’re okay,” you kept repeating like a mantra as you pulled Five into your embrace.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck and you instantly felt your skin getting damp. In just a few seconds Five’s entire body relaxed into yours and he wrapped his arms around you tightly, finally letting go and allowing himself to have a proper cry. He hadn’t had one in years, and, by all means, he was entitled to this breakdown.

Most of the time, Five was the one protecting you - looking out for you and leading the both of you out of dangerous and potentially lethal situations. Not that it was a completely one-sided dynamic but it was true that you tended to rely on him quite a lot in times of crisis. Five was good in crisis, exceptional actually. He made decisions quickly and didn’t hesitate to do absolutely anything it took to achieve his goals, which, unfortunately, meant that he was often forced to make choices where humanity and ethics were no longer a top priority.

Despite all that, Five always seemed in control, and even when he wasn’t, you knew he’d get it back eventually. You had placed your trust in him at all times, and only now were you starting to realize that it must have felt like a huge weight of responsibility on his shoulders. Granted, he was objectively smarter and more capable due to his superpowers but he was still human.

Hearing Five’s hopeless and feverish sobbing was unnerving, and you could only imagine what was going on in his cluttered and clearly overloaded mind as he was bawling his eyes out with such raw and genuine fury. From the lack of a better idea you simply waited for Five to cry himself out, patiently holding him in your arms and whispering words of reassurance into the air, not so much out of hope he’d hear them and listen but more as a means of letting him feel you were still there.

“I’m so fucking tired,” Five finally uttered but his words rather quickly got drowned in his weeping. You still got the message, though.

“You deserve to rest, Five,” you replied, feeling your legs start to shake from the weight of Five’s entire body leaning on your form. As much as you wanted to stay like this for as long as he needed, you couldn’t exactly go against your evident physical disadvantage. Five was a heavy gentleman, after all.

“Hey, let’s move to the bed, yeah?” it was more of a statement than a question, so you stepped towards the bed suggestively, expecting him to follow you. To your relief, he didn’t resist and followed your lead right away, seemingly too exhausted to even think, let alone disobey.

Five’s body was limp from the absence of energy, all of which had presumably gone into crying, and he could barely manage to walk on his own, so you grabbed at his shoulders to steady him.

It felt like his physical self was now merely a vehicle with no pilot to steer it, and his mind was long lost someplace else.

As you sat Five down, you caressed his cheek with your thumb, wiping away the trails of his tears whilst also trying to gently break him out of the prison of his troubled and restless brain. To your disappointment, it failed to spark any sort of response.

Right in this moment, he looked almost defenseless. Sure, he wasn’t an incapable baby all of a sudden but he was relying on you, reversing your roles and putting all of his worries and pain on your shoulders, basically asking you to carry them for him because he simply couldn’t anymore.

“Fives. Fives? Look at me, please?” you called, trying to shift his attention to something on the outside because you knew it was the looking inside that pushed him to crumble.

“Focus on my voice, alright?” you tried to keep your tone as steady and stern as you possibly could because right now you were his only bridge back to reality.

You pressed your palms against Five’s shoulders and slowly climbed onto his lap, resting your weight atop of him completely and hoping the pressure of it would manage to snap him out of his almost delirious daze.

As your hand reached for Five’s, you placed it on your chest right where your heart was beating and said:

“Can you feel it? It means I’m alive, Fives. I’m a human and a consciousness just like you. And I'm never leaving your side, no matter the circumstances. You’re never going to be alone, I promise you.”

You took Five by his chin with your other hand and softly guided his gaze upwards to meet your own, noticing his red glossy eyes finally regaining some clarity. The very peak of Five’s episode had already passed, and, as he was coming down from it, he encircled your waist with his arm and let his head sink to your shoulder with his eyes closed shut.

Still sitting straddled across his lap, you brushed your fingers through his soft silky hair and began to massage his scalp in a calming manner, trying to release some of the tension and lull him further into peacefulness. As your fingers moved a little lower, you knew you’d hit the sweet spot because Five literally purred into your skin as soon as he felt your nails gently scratch at the nape of his neck.

“How many times did I say you’re a cat, Hargreeves,” you rolled your eyes at his reaction and couldn’t resist a wide smile as you buried your nose in his hair. Five hummed quietly, and it was the only response you were going to get from him, which, to be fair, was already a big improvement so you couldn't really complain.

“How about we get you into some comfier clothes, wash your face and then you can tell me all about what’s been on your mind, hm?” you proposed confidently, still holding Five close and practically enveloping him in your warmth.

Your every movement was saturated with such understanding and care that not for a split second did Five feel like his vulnerability was making him weak or unworthy. It was quite the opposite, and with each passing moment he was beginning to feel like you were only making him stronger.

He nodded at your suggestion approvingly but didn’t move an inch, and you took it as a hint that he needed a few more minutes of sitting in silence; the bridge of his nose pressed to your collarbone as he was still finding his way back into the present.

You didn’t mind at all.

[shes-a-gryffindor]

Butterflies

Chapter 1. I Missed You

If the party roaring through the common room disappeared abruptly around him, James probably would not have noticed, for from the moment the commentator announced Gryffindor’s victory over Slytherin in what was their last match of the year, his attention was elsewhere.

Scouring the stands from above, watching her leave for the castle with her friends and the rest of the excited crowd, he’d hurried through the post match huddle and congratulations with this team back down on the pitch, and as he walked back up to the castle with them at what felt like an excruciatingly slow pace, his mind was with Lily.

Perhaps it was the war that raged on outside the safety of the familiar stone walls, or that their seventh and final year was coming to an end but the etching anxiety that grew steadily in his chest was a recent development in how he felt when he was away from her too long.

After many a slap on the back, lots of hair ruffling and match commentary from his housemates he made his way through the common room, finding Sirius, who was in usual form, in the thick of the celebrations “There he is!” he exclaimed, clapping James’s back “What a bloody match! Should’ve seen their faces, smug bastards they usually are, absolutely priceless.” a few of their housemates whooped in agreement. Sirius took a swig from the bottle that was hanging loosely from his fingers and let out a bark of laughter at the sight of James distractedly looking around the common room.

Grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and steering him around he said “She’s over there mate”. Grinning sheepishly, James elbowed his best friend away.

She had her back to him, leaning over the edge of a table at the far end of the common room, laughing and conversing with her friends. She’d just thrown her head back in laughter when he wrapped his arms around her, winking at her friends as he greeted them “Ladies”.

Still laughing Lily leaned back into him, ran a hand over his forearm on her waist and weaved her fingers through his.

Her friend Mary answered between tipsy giggles “Potter! Great match, really…we were just wagering-” *hiccup* “-how long it’d be before you'd come and steal our Lily-" with feigned concern, she continued "-you’ve been apart over an hour, are you feeling okay?”

Dragging Lily away, James mocked “You lot are worse than Sirius Black”.

Waving at her friends, Lily turned around in his arms to wrap hers around his neck. He lowered his head, burying it in the crook of her neck, the anxiety settling “I missed you” he told her.

“I really have to agree with Mary, are you okay? She asked laughing “you’ve not even asked me how many of your goals I saw yet, what have you done with my boyfriend?” James laughed, leaning back he lifted her off her feet for a moment before resuming his position buried in her hair “Reckon it’s the Lily Evans effect” he grinned into her shoulder.

“I reckon you’re right” she said, grinning back “I missed you too”.

Lifting his head to look down at her, he rested his forehead against hers. 'Boyfriend' he thought...apparently, the measure of time they’d already been together hadn't changed how incredulous he was, that Lily felt for him now, the way he’d felt about her for so long.

Noticing the depth of his thoughts, as she so often did, she smiled knowingly before kissing him, intending for it to be short and sweet; but James was having none of it. As she’d begun to pull away he leaned right back into her, tightening his grip around her waist and neither of them seemed to much care about the stark contrast between the party happening around them and the slow and lingering kiss happening between them.

Only when Sirius wolf-whistled loudly at them did they break apart, laughing and a little breathless.

”Let’s get out of here?” He quietly suggested; after Lily weaved her hand through his in agreement, he lead them toward the portrait hole, tousling Sirius’ hair roughly as they passed him.

“That’s a good boy Padfoot” winked Lily, both boys laughed appreciatively at the inside joke.

“Always with the quick wit Evans!” He yelled behind them.

No sooner had they stepped through the portrait hole had James slung an arm around her shoulder “Right, where’s the closest broom cupboard?” he asked.

“Now you sound more like yourself” she laughed, elbowing him in the ribs “git”.

They wandered aimlessly through corridors, laughing and joking, stumbling down stairs and running up others until they breathlessly plunked down on the stone ledge of a window sill in a deserted corridor.

Backs to the window, propped up on their elbows with their legs stretched out into the corridor, Lily pulled a flask out from under her sweater “Bottoms up Potter" she said, before gulping down half it’s contents and handing it to him

James raised his eyebrows and laughed in comic disbelief.

Acknowledging his expression she winked lazily, grinning “I reckon it’s the James Potter effect”.

“I reckon you’re right” he grinned back, finishing off the rest of what was in the flask, whatever it was, it was strong- “Fucking hell” he spluttered “I think Sirius is trying to poison us”.

“Probably” laughed Lily “Did we not learn from-" she was now quaking with laughter "-What did he call them? Questionable biscuits? I don’t think I’ve ever seen Remus talk so much…or you so little” she nudged him, James chuckled at the memory and pinching her nose he added “or you so uncharacteristically mischievous”.

“Ah, the James Potter effect, remember” she said, very matter of fact.

“Ah, yes” he agreed, turning to facing her again, he balanced now on only one elbow “and I must say, it does suit you”. Running his free hand through hers, and leant down to briefly kiss the crook of her neck before resting his head there, sending butterflies fluttering through her stomach.

After a few seconds of staring off over James’ shoulder at nothing in particular, Lily thought aloud “To think…in only a few months we won’t be here for the better part of a year ever again…no more breakfast in the great hall, no more quidditch, no more accidentally-on-purpose hanging 'round corridors after rounds, trying for the life of us to dodge filch and peeves-“

“No more midnight dormitory rendezvous” James interjected.

“I think we’ll be fine in that department love, it might be an improvement actually-“

“-No more silencing charms” they said in unison and broke into a fit of laughter.

It was Lily who spoke again when they’d composed themselves “no more Slytherin Gryffindor rivalry”.

“That is life long ” James said pointedly.

She rolled her eyes but considered it for a moment…“Yes, I suppose it’ll take on a whole new meaning once we’ve left…” trailing off, her brow furrowed.

She found she was often caught between excitement at the prospect of life beyond Hogwarts, purpose driven by joining the Order; they, along with Sirius, Remus and (an albeit reluctant) Peter had quite literally thrown themselves at the opportunity when they’d heard. Lily, after-all, had more cause to fight than some...On the other hand there was the unsettling apprehension of the unknown, of what awaited and what the fight would look like.

At some point in her internal monologue, James had lifted his head to look at her. He watched the faint crease that appeared between her brows deepen as she stared at their entwined hands, not really seeing them for she was obviously deep in thought. The way her long hair fell like a curtain over her perfect face, the way she chewed the inside of her lip. All her little nuances he'd come to know and love, and he was up the wall, insanely in love with her. All of her.

Untangling his fingers from hers, he smoothed her brow gently and ran his hand down her cheek until his thumb sat just underneath her jaw, fingers coming to rest at the nape of her neck.

“Yes-" he told her "-but for now we’re just a pair of madly, sickly in love eighteen year olds who hang 'round empty corridors past curfew and rendezvous at midnight” that infectious grin making its way back onto his face.

Smiling again, she turned to face him, leaning on only one elbow now too. Weaving her free hand through the back of the one at her neck, she turned it away from her skin and lightly kissed the inside of his wrist. The heat from the drink still pooled in her chest, his wrist felt cool against her lips.

If butterflies fluttered through Lily, they absolutely erupted through James. The feel of her lips against his wrist pushed him to a level of intoxication far beyond what the contents of the flask already had.

Oblivious to what this had done to him she stood abruptly, tugging at his arm so as to join her “Come on” she said.

“What? Where are we going?” he asked, a little dumbstruck, but Lily was already pulling him down the corridor.

“Anywhere-" She said "-Outside! Wherever - who knows how many more times we’ll get to do this” practically running at this point.

In step now, they ran and stumbled hand in hand down the marble staircase and through the entrance hall. When Lily clamorously pushed open the massive doors at the entrance to the castle, James laughed “Lil! You’re going to have Filch-“

“Oh bugger him! What’s he going to do have us expelled with only two months of the year left?” She yelled as she let go of his hand and ran out onto the grounds, James let out a bark of laughter and made to follow her again “I reckon we’ve had a bad influence on you!” he told her. 

They were half way to the quidditch pitch, her laughter echoed out into the balmy spring evening, long hair bouncing wildly behind her. Almost as if in slow motion, still running, she turned around and grinned at him, her grin etched into every feature of her face setting her brilliant eyes alight and for a minute, James was stone cold sober, his breath catching in his chest.

In two strides he was right behind her, grabbing her hand he pulled her back towards him so that she spun 'round and crashed into his chest. Winded and breathless they looked at each other for a moment, and then they were kissing. A mess of arms around waists and necks, fingers tangled through hair, bodies as close as they physically could be, chests pressing against each other as if they could possibly get any closer than they already were.

When James’ hand found the hem of her sweater and slid underneath to gently run his palm across the small of her back, her goosebumps ensued and she pulled her lips from his, still close enough that there noses were touching, breathless and barley in a whisper, he told her “I love you”.

Closing her eyes to steady her breathing for a moment, Lily grinned against his lips and whispered back “How quickly do you think we can make it back up to your dormitory?”

The same grin swept across his face and he kissed her once more, quickly; without answering he grabbed her hand pulling her after him, running back up to the castle together, bright eyed, faces flushed, their laughter echoing through the grounds.

Read Chapter 2. Magnets, on Ao3 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33331396/chapters/83146177#workskin

[koushou]

Could we get uuh,,, Todoroki x f!reader who is insecure abt their looks bc they look more "boyish" than most girls? 😳 As much as I love being an androgynous queen, I get insecure sometimes, esp when it comes to guys liking me

this is my first ask im 😳💕💕

beautiful

pairing : todoroki shoto x f!reader {fluff}

warnings : none really, like the teeniest suggestive ending, just todoroki being like the best bf ugh 😩

a/n : thank you so much for requesting anon!! i tried my best, im so sorry if it isn’t exactly what you wanted but shoutout to all the androgynous queens you’re amazing !! <3 (also can you tell im terrible at titles pls)

shopping mall dates with your friends were always something you looked forward to, shoto knew this well. so why had you come back to the dorms empty-handed?

The familiar ringtone playing from your phone woke you up from your slumber, as bright sunlight shone through your windows where the curtains did poor job of providing you with any coverage. You opened your eyes and would’ve immediately shut them if not for the music still coming from your phone on your nightstand.

Swinging a hand blindly over, you felt the cool screen of your device and brought it close to your face, as an all too familiar contact name displayed on the top of the screen.

Grumbling slightly, you pressed the answer button and brought it up to your ear.

“Y/N!! Are you still sleeping??” You almost wanted to hang up right then and there from the cheery girl’s voice ringing into your ear. 

“Mina, it’s-” You glanced over at your alarm clock on the same nightstand, “-literally 9 in the morning, what do you want-”

“Come on! You remember we have another shopping day today, right??” 

You rubbed your eyes and rolled over in bed on your side, away from the blinding light illuminating through the glass windows.

Shopping dates with your girlfriends in Class 1-A took place almost every weekend, something you always looked forward to. Hero training was stressful, everyone was always striving to further improve and expand their quirks and skill, almost never having time for any sort of break. 

Truthfully, you had forgotten about your planned day with the girls today, since it had been a pretty tough week, with work piling up on top of one another, heck, you were barely keeping up your grades. 

“Oh...right.” You ran your fingers through your somewhat messy, medium-length hair, attempting to comb it slightly and getting rid of the small knots that had been formed in your sleep.

“Hey, don’t tell me you forgot - anyways, we’re meeting up downstairs at 10, so see you later!!” 

“Yeah, alright.” 

Quiet beeps signaling the end of your short call with Mina, you sighed and wondered how the alien girl managed to stay so hyper in the morning, not that you were surprised anymore. 

Sitting up in bed, you let out a yawn and stretched out your body, excited for the day to come. 

On some days, you just wanted to sleep in and have a day all to yourself in the comfort of your small dorm room, but these shopping sprees with the girls always took your mind off any troubles on your mind.

Throwing your blanket to the side lazily, you get up from your bed and groggily made your way to the bathroom, phone still in hand. Flicking on the light switch, you cringed at the sudden brightness.

A notification noise sounded from your phone, a smile spreading across your face as soon as you saw who the sender was - your one and only white and red haired boyfriend.

Unlocking your phone, you were met by a few text messages from your lover.

shouu <33 : good morning love, have you woken up yet?

shouu <33 : you’re going out today with the others right? i wish you could come and be with me, but i hope you have fun.💗

Your heart could not handle this level of cuteness in the morning.

Turning on the water to get ready for your morning shower, you typed out a reply to your boyfriend.

                                                             good morning shouto 🥺 i just woke upp

                      imy so much as well, i promise i’ll be with you when i get back!!💕

You stripped off your clothes and hopped into the shower, the water more on the warm side, exactly how you liked it.

After about 20 minutes, you stepped out with a towel wrapped around your torso, the cool air hitting your legs, making you shiver slightly. You made your way over to your closet in the corner of your room, picking out what clothes to wear.

It was scorching hot out, and you were feeling lazy, so a simple black t-shirt and a pair of jean shorts seemed like a good choice.

The time was about 9:40 when you had finished brushing your teeth and mindlessly slapping on some sunscreen, you didn’t want to become tan, after all.

Internally crying, you shoved your wallet with your credit card inside your small purse you usually brought when you went shopping, making a note to yourself to cut down a bit on your purchases. 

You knew that promise was going to go out the window as soon as you step foot in a store, but hey, you always felt better after coming back to the dorms with bags of clothing in your hands.

Deciding to head down to the common room earlier to grab a quick snack to eat, you received another message from your phone.

shouu <33 : i’ll be waiting for you, love.

shouu <33 : are you sure you don’t want to use my father’s credit card? i don’t think he would really care if it gets maxed out, you know.

You giggled at your boyfriend’s message even though you knew he was being 100% serious.

                                                                                   shou...bby, i cant do that-

shouu <33 : alright then, be safe and text me when you get there, okay?

                                                                                                            i will! ily <33

shouu <33 : i love you too :)

When you reached the common room, you were met by pink, black, green, and brown haired girls.

“Y/N!! Good morning!!”

“Good morning, Y/N.”

“Hey Y/N-chan, ribbit.”

“Oh hey Y/N!”

You smile at your energetic friends, Mina, Momo, Tsu and Uraraka, who were all lounging on the couches. 

“Good morning, guys.”

Mina lets out a whine, “Where is Jirou? That girl is almost always never on time-”

“What’s that, Mina?”

A voice from behind the girls spoke, causing everyone to jump and turn at the same time. 

“O-oh good morning Jirou-”

The purple haired girl stood behind the couches, and your eyes scanned over her outfit. A white, loose short sleeve hung around her shoulders, paired with some black shorts. A simple outfit, yet she made it look so much more appealing.

She charged towards Mina, who was now desperately hiding behind Uraraka. It was then that you finally took notice of the other girls’ outfits, and suddenly became all too aware of your own.

Mina, with a pink shirt tucked into her jeans, a black belt as a finishing touch. Her curves showing perfectly, all in the right places. You would expect her pink hair to be messy and puffy, but it was tamed, neatly brushed, and reminded you of soft cotton candy. 

A cropped maroon top, with black jeans, complementing Momo’s smooth, black hair which was put up in a lower pony tail than usual. Her gentle features sure to attract admirers wherever she went. The way her dark bangs framed her face, the way her smile was bright, genuine - an appearance of a true, proper lady. 

You glanced down at your own outfit, trying to smooth out wrinkles in your own shirt. No genius was required to see that you obviously stood out in your group of feminine friends, you being the only female with short hair and a different style.

It wasn’t that you hated the way you looked, but it made you think sometimes that you weren’t as attractive or liked as much, compared to your friends.

“Well then,” Uraraka clasped her hands together, interrupting your thoughts, and grinned. “Shall we get going?” 

You all cheered, getting up and ready to head to the shopping mall. 

Mina locked her arms in yours and dragged you out of the doors, grinning at you while the other girls trailed behind.

“Come on old ladies! We’re gonna max out our cards!!” She yelled at the sky once you were outside, the hot summer air hitting your skin immediately. 

“Hey, who’re you calling an old lady?!” You smacked Mina’s arm, making her stick her tongue out at you.

“Fine, whoever gets there last is an old lady!!” 

Your pink haired friend takes off toward the mall which was located about 20 minutes away from your school, with you laughing and running after her, followed by your other female friends.

The negative thoughts you had on your mind previously vanished as you all ran after one another, not giving a care in the world to the questioning looks passersby shot your ways. Spending time with your friends always somehow managed to brighten your mood, regardless of whether they knew how you were feeling or not. 

And your love for them could never be put into words.

6 girls arrived at the Misako Mall, panting, out of breath as they bought water from a vending machine.

“Oh-” You pant, fumbling with the buttons on the machine, inserting a few coins in and watching as the bottle falls to the bottom. 

“Ura-ha..ha...Uraraka, you’re an old...ha...lady!” Mina teased the gravity-quirked girl in between breaths.

“Yo-you’re so mean, ha, Mina,” Uraraka coughed, sputtering as she practically shoved the water bottle down her throat, drinking half of the bottle in a few seconds.

“Slow down - ribbit - Ochaco-chan,” Tsu patted the said girl’s back, making sure she didn’t choke.

“Well, guys, where do you want to go first?” Momo spoke up, after you guys rested a bit on the benches in the lobby. 

“I kind of wanted to check out the accessories in that shop we passed earlier,” Jirou scratched the back of her neck awkwardly, nodding towards a shop near the entrance of the mall.

You all turned to look at the store she was talking about, not surprised to see the exterior of the shop decorated in dark, emo-style accessories - exactly Jirou’s style.

“I want to go there too - ribbit,” Tsu nodded in agreement, this time shocking the group, since Tsu had always seemed to be into more cuter accessories. 

“I was actually interested in that one over there,” Momo tapped her chin thoughtfully, gesturing towards a high-class looking store on the second floor of the mall. 

“That looks nice! I really like that white dress they have in the front,” Uraraka stared dreamily at the level above you guys, and an idea popped into your head.

“Why don’t we split into pairs? That way, we can all check out the stores we want to and meet up back here when we’re all done!” Your suggestion earned approving nods from the rest, all of you agreeing to text in the groupchat you had when you were finished in your stores.  

Tsu and Jirou, Momo and Uraraka, and you and Mina walked off into different directions of the mall, chatting excitedly.

You and Mina decided to first go into a casual-styled store filled with jeans, tops, jackets, etc. 

Walking into the store, a friendly cashier at the counter greeted you guys, who you both smiled back at.

Thankful for the cool air conditioner providing a contrast to the burning weather outside, you scanned the racks for anything that caught your eye.

“Oh! Y/N look here!” You turned to where your pink friend had ran to, spotting her a few aisles down.

Making your way towards her, she holds up a light pink, off the shoulder top decorated with small flowers and a lace ribbon in her hands eagerly.

“Do you think this would look good on me? I really like the color!” She beams at you, holding the clothing item up to herself, admiring it in a tall mirror nearby. 

You study it for a second, before smiling back at her and nodding excitedly in agreement.

“It suits your skin color so well too! You should go try it on!”

“You think so??” She grins at you happily as you chuckle back in response. 

“You should pick out some clothes first, then we can go to the changing rooms together!”

“Okay, let me look around a bit more!” You walk off to the other side of the store, studying any clothes that may peak your interest. 

A striped red, orange, and white button-up shirt catches your eye, hanging on one of the racks. You take it and hold it up to your torso, satisfied with the way it looked. 

Keeping it around your arm to try on later, you decide to pick out a few more clothes to try on to avoid making multiple trips to the changing room. Just as you were about to turn around and continue your search for more clothes, you felt a figure approach behind you. 

“Hey, uh, sorry to bother you but I thought you were really pretty, and I was wondering if I could get your number?”

A voice made you turn around, and you were met by a man who looked a bit older than you. 

He was standing right in front of you now, his eyes staring at...the top of your head?

You cleared your throat awkwardly, not expecting the sudden question. 

“Oh! Thank you, but I have a boyfriend already, I’m sorry-”

The man’s eyes finally focus on your face, before laughing at you.

Wait, what?

You furrowed your eyebrows at the still laughing man, who looked down at you like you were a mere piece of dirt below him.

“I’m not talking to you, you’re not even pretty?” He scoffed when you gaped at him. 

“I’m talking to the hottie behind you,” He grinned and stared past you to whoever was standing there.

You slowly turned around, expecting to see some random stranger behind you, but you were met by a puff of familiar pink hair.

“O-oh, Mina...” You mumbled, not wanting to make eye contact with your friend, disheartened from the man’s words.

You were never one to get bothered by anyone’s words, especially not from a stranger, but this one hit you differently.

“What did you say to my friend?! You wanna repeat that, huh?!” Mina yelled at the man, steam almost emitting out of her pink ears. 

“Woah, calm down, pinkie, I just wanted to get your number - I didn’t know she was your friend.” He chuckled, and glanced at you again.

“Just saying, you could do so much better.” It was like bullets, the man’s words, aimed straight at your heart.

Storming up to the man, Mina slapped him directly on his face, leaving both of you in shock.

“Say that again, I dare you!!” You ushered Mina away from the furious man despite her protests of wanting to beat him up.

“Hmph, who does he think he is?!” You stopped walking when you guys were a good distance from the stranger.

You bit your lip, trying to suppress your emotions and not make a fool of yourself in a public space.

“It’s fine, I-I don’t really care,” Sighing, you gave Mina a small unconvincing smile, which she saw right through.

“Are you okay, Y/N? Don’t listen to him! He’s just blind,” She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. 

You chuckled softly, trying to change the subject, “I’m fine, come on, let’s go try on our clothes.” 

Mina sighed, eyeing the one top you had on your arm. “You only have one shirt? Don’t you want to try on more?” 

You scanned the racks around you guys, randomly picking a pair of black plaid pants, flashing your friend another smile. 

“It’s okay, there’s not much I like here,” You grabbed her arm and led her into the changing rooms, chuckling at her pile of clothes hanging over her arm. 

“You sure got a lot, Mina.”

“Their clothes are really nice!!” 

Mina and you went into rooms besides each other, and you could hear the girl squealing while trying on her clothing.

Instead of trying on your clothes immediately, you slumped against the white door, taking a deep breath, the man’s comments still on your mind.

You’re not even pretty.

You could do so much better.

Wrapping your arms around your torso, you looked in the mirror on the wall across you, taking in your appearance.

There were few things about you that would seem appealing to any man, and you should’ve gotten over the stares people give you wherever you go by now, but it was hard.

It really was.

Of course people would be attracted to Mina first, or anyone in your friend group, for that matter. She was outgoing, kind, bright, and feminine. 

Tears poking at the corners of your eyes, you quickly wiped them away with the back of your hand before they fell. 

Why couldn’t people just accept who you were?

Why couldn’t people accept the fact that you were happy in your own body, and that you loved yourself the way you were?

The common stereotype that all females had to be feminine, had to be proper, you were tired of it.

A loud knock from the other side of the door you were leaning against sounded, and you jumped a little, before hearing your friend’s cheery voice. 

“Y/N! Are you finished? I want to show you the top!”

“Oh- One second!”

Quickly tidying up your appearance to get rid of any hints of your silent breakdown, you unlocked the door and looked over Mina.

You were right.

The light pink color of the top really did complement her skin color well, her slender shoulders were exposed, and the lacey ribbon around the collarbone area of her shirt gave it a finishing touch.

Gasping, you admired how good it looked on her, while she giggled and jumped excitedly in place.

“It looks so beautiful on you Mina!!” You gave her a small hug, giggling along. “It’s like it was made for you!”

“Thanks!! What about your clothes?” She nodded towards your top and pants still sitting in the changing room, untouched.

You coughed, “Oh- uh give me a second, I still need to try on the top,” She nodded and pushed you back into the room eagerly.

“Show me when you’re done!”

You nodded and smiled back at her before walking back into the room and locking the door behind you.

You had already lost all interest in shopping today, but reluctantly changed into the striped button-up shirt, looking at yourself in the mirror. 

It was okay, nothing really special, and you certainly wouldn’t be spared any second glances from anyone. Not that you cared, you were already in a happy and healthy relationship with Shoto.

Shoto.

A thought suddenly popped into your mind. 

What did Shoto think about your appearance? Coming from a rich family, it was only natural that he would be into proper, feminine females. 

Why was he even dating you? Does he actually mean it every time he calls you beautiful?

Maybe you should change your hairstyle. Or the way you dressed. Maybe then, Shoto would love you.

Maybe then, he would think you’re beautiful.

Running your hand through your short strands of hair, you suddenly didn’t want to be here anymore.

You wished you were in the safety of your dorm, under the blankets where no one would have to look at you.

You were probably an eyesore, walking around everyday at school, getting judgmental looks from left to right.

Shaking your head, you tried to push those thoughts to the back of your mind, straightening yourself back up.

Unlocking the door again, wanting to get this day over with, you were met by a excited Mina as she looked over at you. You noticed that she had changed back to her own shirt.

“You look great Y/N!!” She hopped excitedly over to you as she admired your top.

You shrugged, glancing down at your top. “I mean, it’s okay, I guess.” 

She raised her eyebrows at your response, asking worriedly, “Do you not like it?” 

“Not really, it’s kind of plain.” Sighing, you picked at the sleeves and wrinkles of the shirt. 

“Oh,” Mina pursed her lips together, cocking her head to the side. “That’s alright, then. What about the pants?”

Truth was, you had forgotten to try on the pants while you were inside, and you didn’t want to risk purchasing something you weren’t sure would look good on you.

“Oh-uh, I didn’t like that one too much either,” You glanced back at the item still hanging in the changing room.

“Oh no,” Mina pouted. “Are you going to buy anything?”

Biting your lip, you shook your head. “Guess not.”

It wasn’t really that you didn’t want to buy anything, you just thought that at this point, it didn’t matter what you wore.

Because, you weren’t as feminine as other girls.

"Give me a second to change back, and we can go to another store.” She looked like she was about to say something, but decided to close her mouth and nodded instead.

The remaining time you spent with Mina was just her jumping around stores excitedly and you mindlessly staring at clothes you wouldn’t ever buy.

It was about 2 in the afternoon when you all decided to meet back up, ready to head back to school.

You realized that you hadn’t bought a single item in the past 4 hours spent in wandering around the mall. 

“Y/N! Did you not buy anything?” Momo asks worriedly as you and Mina approach the other two pairs in the lobby.

You shook your head at the tall girl, sighing, “Nothing really caught my eye today.”

“Oh, we can walk around a bit more together if you’d like!” Uraraka offers, holding a large bag in her own hands.

You smiled at her words, shaking your head again. “No, it’s alright! I’m sure we’re all tired, let’s head back.” 

“Gosh, this weird man came up to us earlier and had the audacity to call our little Y/N here unattractive??! And then proceeded to ask for my number??” Mina huffed, clenching her fists dramatically at the memory.

You chuckled awkwardly. “Mina, you didn’t have to slap the poor man.”

“Poor man? By the sounds of it, he hasn’t learned his lesson yet.” Jirou speaks up, cracking her knuckles, eyes darkening. “Where is he?”

You laughed. “Jirou-”

“Oh dear, that’s terrible.” Momo patted your shoulder. “You’re very beautiful, Y/N, you know that?” 

You smiled at the kind girl, letting out a deep breath. 

“I understand where he’s coming from, though...” You mumbled quietly.

“Did you say something, Y/N?” Uraraka asks from next to you.

Shaking your head quickly, you link your arms with the brown haired girl, grinning at everyone. “Let’s head back now!”

Pushing open the large glass doors, you were met once again by the humid air, the sun’s rays burning down on your exposed skin.

The girls chattered happily about their new purchases, peeking inside the others’ bags and taking a couple out to show.

Even though you walked in the middle of Uraraka and Momo, you couldn’t help but feel left out, not having any new clothing to wear.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you nudged Momo, making her turn around and look at you.

“Hey Yaomomo, what’d you get?”

She smiled and opened her bag for you to peek inside, and you almost had to close your eyes from the amount of bling inside,

Bling, meaning dresses decorated in gems, with a few jewelry pieces and other accessories. Of course, there were a couple casual wear on the bottom of the bag.

“Oh, I’m not even surprised anymore,” You pretended to huff at Momo, turning the other way.

“You’re so classy and fancy, Yaomomo, are you trying to flex your class on me?” 

She laughed, slapping your back lightly. “Oh sorry, I just can’t help that I’m so rich and proper.” 

You tensed up at her words. Of course, you knew she was being sarcastic, but her use of words hit the same spot in you again as earlier. 

“Hey guys...” Mina starts, wiggling her eyebrows.

“What?” An ominous feeling settles in all of your stomachs. 

“Last one to the dorms is an old lady!” 

All of you groan, watching as the pink alien girl takes off once again, having no choice but to follow behind.

6 girls arrived back at the dorm building, panting once again. 

“Mina- ha, I swear to - god,” You breathe out, pants coming from all six of you.

Mina just giggles at you as you all arrive back in the common room. Your classmates are sprawled out in different places throughout the room, and their heads all perk up simultaneously at the new arrivals. 

Bakugou were surrounded by Kirishima, Kaminari and Sero, as always, trying his best to swat them away. 

Tokoyami and Aoyama were chatting in the kitchen, while Iida, Midoriya and Shoto hung around the TV, watching whatever movie was put on.

Ojiro, Koda, Shoji, and Sato were nowhere to be seen, you guessed they were up in their own rooms. 

“Oh, hey guys! Welcome back!” A certain red-head’s voice chirped from the middle of the room, flashing you all his big smile.

“Hey Kirishima!” Mina smiled back at the boy before making her way up to her own room to organize her newly bought items. 

Momo, Tsu, Jirou, and Uraraka followed after her, while you made your way over to where your boyfriend was on one of the other couches. 

“Hey, love.” Shoto smiles at you softly as he opens his arms for you to give him a hug. 

“Hey Sho,” You happily accept your place in his arms, tired from the long day you had. “I missed you.” 

“I missed you as well,” He plants a small kiss on the top of your head. He was about to say something else before a realization dawns on him.

“Love, did you not buy anything?” You gulp, afraid that your boyfriend would see through your feelings and ask you what was wrong.

“Oh- uh, I just didn’t feel like anything caught my eye today!” You shrug, hoping that he would accept your answer and move on.

Of course, Shoto could be dense at times, but he is everything but stupid.

He always knew how you adored these little shopping sprees with your girls, and never once had you arrived back empty handed. On top of that, your vibe just seemed a bit...off.

“Can we go to your room and cuddle? I’m a little tired,” You look up at him, to which he responded by giving you a small kiss and chuckling.

“Of course, let’s go, love.” 

After saying goodbye to Iida and Midoriya, you both made your way to Shoto’s dorm, immediately flopping down on the bed after stepping inside.

Shoto laughed softly at your eagerness, wasting no time and following in after, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing you flush against his chest.

The warmth and vanilla scent of your boyfriend was enough to calm you down and get rid of any past bad thoughts you were having earlier that day.

You felt him bury his face inside your hair, inhaling softly your shampoo from this morning. Normally, you would’ve swooned at the action, but it somehow made you feel uneasy. Insecure.

Shriveling away a little from his body, you were met by a very confused Shoto staring back at you.

“...Love?”

You bit your lip, not sure how to explain why you seemed uncomfortable.

“I-,uh, Shoto?” Your eyes made contact with his as he hummed in response. You decided it was now or never.

“Do you...think I’m pretty?” Biting your lip anxiously as you awaited his answer.

Confusion flashed through your boyfriend’s face. What kind of a question was that?

That was what he wanted to ask, until he noticed the tears forming in your eyes, and worriedly sat up, bringing you with him.

“Of course I think you’re pretty. You’re beautiful, darling.” 

Not convinced, you sniffle before asking again, “Really?”

He furrows his eyebrows together, lifting you up and onto his lap so you were straddling him now, both of you in a sitting position.

“Did something happen, love? Why are you asking me these questions?” He reaches up to wipe a stray tear that had slipped its way through your eyes with his thumb. 

“No reason-” You started, but your boyfriend’s piercing gaze told you he wouldn’t take that as an answer.

Taking a deep breath, you avoided his eyes as you began to speak.

“Today, when we were at the mall, a man came up to me, called me pretty, and asked for my number-”

Shoto raises his eyebrows, to which you wave away quickly.

“-I thought he was talking to me, but turns out he was speaking to Mina, who had been standing behind me. He then called me-” You cleared your throat, a bit anxious for your boyfriend’s reaction. 

“He said that I wasn’t pretty, and that Mina could do so much better than being friends with someone like me...” Your voice trails off as you felt Shoto’s grip on your waist tighten.

“He...what?” You could’ve sworn you saw flames flicker behind Shoto’s eyes, his left and right hands heating and cooling on your sides without thinking, to which you yelped a little, surprised by the temperature change.

His eyes softened, looking down at your waist and rubbing it softly. “Oh- I’m sorry, love, I did not mean to hurt you.”

You shake your head, smiling at him. “You didn’t hurt me at all, Shoto.”

He exhales deeply, looking into your eyes. “Baby, you’re the most beautiful, kind, amazing girl I’ve ever met in my life. Don’t ever listen to what anyone else says, you’re absolutely perfect the way you are.”

Shoto plants a deep kiss on your lips, tears threatening to spill over at his touching words.

When you pull away, there’s still a lingering thought in the back of your mind. 

“Don’t you ever wish - that you had a more...you know...” You rubbed your eyes, sniffling as the first few tears made their ways down your cheeks.

Shoto tilts his head to the side as he pulls you closer to his body, rubbing soothing circles on your lower back. 

“A what, love?”

“You know, a more...feminine...girlfriend?”

You nervously glance at him, waiting for his response. 

There’s silence for a moment, and your heart drops. 

“Who ever said that girls have to be feminine?” 

You directly look into his eyes for the first time that evening, confusion plastered on your face.

Shoto has a soft and loving, but firm expression as he speaks. 

“I don’t care if you dress, or appear differently than other girls. There is no “correct” way to look if you are a certain gender. You’re absolutely beautiful no matter what you do, or wear.” He leans forward to peck your lips once again.

“But...when I look at someone like Yaomomo, she’s just - so much more attractive and proper than someone like me...”

Shoto sighs, tilting your chin down to look at him.

“Proper? What’s not proper about you, Y/N? Your hair? Your clothing choices? Baby, you could wear a trash bag, have long hair - or even shave your head bald, I’d still fall in love with you all over again.” 

You giggle a little, making him chuckle, seeing that he successfully cheered you up a bit.

“I mean it, Y/N. I love you, and I’ll continue loving you, forever. Please don’t ever feel like you have to compare yourself to other girls, because you’ll always be the prettiest girl in my heart.”

Your heart felt like it was on the verge of bursting as you leant forward, kissing your boyfriend deeply. It was like all your emotions were expressed through that kiss. It was almost as if Shoto’s loving words washed away every single insecurity that has ever passed your mind in your whole life.

“Thank you so much, Shoto. I love you, so, so much.” You both grin as you placed your foreheads together, noses brushing against each other. 

“I want you to say it, love. Tell me you love yourself, and that you’re beautiful.” 

Your face heated up from the request, placing your hands on Shoto’s shoulders and trying to push him away, only to have your wrists caught by his strong hands as he leaned closer. 

“Come on, Y/N, I’m waiting,” he smirks at your flustered expression. 

You pouted a bit, before taking a deep breath, embarrassed from Shoto’s intense stare.

“I-uh- I love myself the way I am, and...I’m beautiful.” You squealed and cover your face with your hands after finishing your sentence, not used to those words coming out of your mouth.

A laugh escapes Shoto as he pries your hands away from your face, placing a kiss on your nose. 

“That’s right, love. What do you say we go shopping tomorrow, just me and you?” 

Your eyes brightened at the idea, and Shoto could feel butterflies flooding his stomach. 

“Yes!! I’d love that, Shoto,” You threw your arms around your boyfriend’s neck, burying your face into his hair.

He chuckles in response, leaning back and studying your face for a moment, making you confused.

Then, he takes your arms and pushes you back until your back is pressed against the bed, pinning them above you. His body hovers over yours, as his knee sneakily moves up to place itself between your thighs.

“But right now, let me show you just how beautiful you are, darling.”

[9tzuyu]

the art of delicate hands – pt. i

[ wandanat. ]

College AU.

Multiple part series ;

↳ snippets of their relationship and how I perceive them.

sumary:

wanda doesn't like to talk very much, only to her brother (and sometimes her lovely redheaded girlfriend).

notes:

if anyone international is reading this, ASL is shortened for american sign language (language of the hands).

+

this is a revised and edited version from when i wrote it on ao3 in 2018.

The only person that knew was Pietro. It was her little secret, and she could only hope that no one now would find out. She knew she shouldn't be ashamed, it was nothing to be ashamed over. Unsurprisingly however, it became her biggest insecurity – years of relentless bullying ensued that.

Wanda was always anxious. When she was seven she began experiencing panic attacks. The metallic taste of blood in her mouth became familiar over time as her panic attacks worsened.

All because she was mute and didn't feel comfortable to speak to anyone, including her parents. The only person Wanda felt comfortable enough to talk to was her brother (you could say that's because they're twins).

A doctor in Sokovia mentioned to Wanda's parents that therapy may help, that it may get her to speak more than four words a week. So her parents moved her when she was 16 and hoped for the best.

Within a year and a half Wanda was able to develop a clear understanding of American Sign Language. Eight months into the move and Wanda's parents had given up on Wanda ever talking, something that she took personal. They didn't catch on to English as quick as the twins did, their native language stuck closer than expected. Pietro didn't mind learning English quickly as he wanted to fit in school, and he also didn't mind studying ASL to communicate with Wanda on a deeper level.

American high school wasn't much better than her hometown. People talked, whispered and gossiped about her in class, muttered hurtful things about her appearance and the way she carried herself; a shy, quiet, timid girl. The worst part of it was when they mocked her for using a language that was supposed to feel safe for her. Pietro always came to her rescue, shooing people away, reminding them that she's his sister. The silver haired boy had no problem fitting in, it was only when they were apart did people tease the younger brunette.

When their parents died, Wanda took the brunt of the emotional attack it had on the twins. She'd been sitting in the backseat of the car, earbuds in, with her music volume at maximum capacity. Her father had tried to tell her to turn down the music while her mother rest in the passenger seat, window down with her eyes closed. When Wanda didn't hear her father, he reached over, eyes off the road, and tapped her. The second she registered his touch a semi-truck hit her father's door. In a matter of minutes Wanda and Pietro both were left alone to fend for themselves.

Putting the blame on herself only caused her to shut down further. It took over a year for Wanda to speak to Pietro again.

But as per usual, the twins stuck together and finished high school. The only difference was that they lived in foster care, they belonged to the state, up for grabs if anyone wanted them. That came to an end six months into their stay. The foster family proposed the idea of adoption, they had no problem in taking care of the twins for the rest of the time being – or, if they wanted, every day after as well.

At twenty, Wanda and Pietro eventually both went to college and shared a house with a bundle of other people on campus. The younger sibling even found herself a girlfriend within the group, her name being Natasha Romanoff.

Natasha didn't mind at all how little Wanda talked. She was curious, of course, but even before their relationship Nat never pushed her girlfriend into anything uncomfortable. Natasha could tell Wanda always made effort though, that's what drove the brunette into allowing herself a relationship.

When the redhead would sleep, Wanda would continuously practice signing. She'd sign songs and poems, movie scripts and books, everything she possibly could to improve herself. It was a very personal, in touch form of language for her.

Wanda had been with her girlfriend a little over a year and Natasha still didn't know all the unpleasant factors that came about her life. Wanda only told her just enough to get by, and she felt immensely guilty for that. Truth was she desperately wanted to tell Natasha, she just didn't know how. She'd thought about just signing something to her and hoping she would catch on, but figured that would be too much. Anxiety spiked in her chest and in her bones, and she was tired of feeling like a liar.

With a sigh, Wanda plopped down on her bed and pulled her phone out from her back pocket. Unlocking it, she went to her text messages and scrolled to Pietro's contact. When she was sure no one else was in the house, she tapped the call button and listened to the phone ring until Pietro answered.

"You know I'm in the other room, right? You literally could've called my name." He greeted, accent heavy through the speaker.

Wanda giggled as she ran her fingers through her hair. You're safe. Speak, it's okay. She reminded herself.

"Yeah, but are you free?"

"Always."

"Can you come here? I need to ask you about something." Pietro gave out a loud, playful sigh but walked to her room, disconnecting the call on his way in. "What is it, my dear sister? What could possibly be troubling you here on this day? Is it that scruffy redhead?" He smirked arrogantly but sat down in the desk chair across from Wanda, not failing to notice how she rolled her eyes.

"She doesn't have scruffy hair and you know it. It's soft, gentle – and much less damaged than your shit show of an excuse for bleached hair."

"Whatever you say, little chaos."

Wanda groaned, "Why must you still call me that?"

"It suits you well."

There was a shared moment of silence between the two before Pietro spoke up. "What was it you wanted to ask me about?" A small frown was plastered on Wanda's face and Pietro found himself wanting to know even more now. Wanda waited another minute before finally answering. "Should I tell her? You know, about..."

A huge smile took over her brother's face. He was ecstatic that she wanted this for her girlfriend. "Of course you should! I really think she'd be interested to know more about you – y'know, since you don't ever tell her anything."

"I tell her things!" Pietro shook his head, "Does she even know your birthday?" Wanda nodded and turned herself away from him. "I just don't know how to do it. I mean it'd be kind of heavy just taking her out to dinner only to tell her my deepest, darkest secret afterwards. I'm scared she'll hate me, Pietro! And I've never even spoke. More than like, 12 sentences all at once with her!" He softened knowing how much trouble one past  had caused his little sister. "Write her a note?" He suggested, but she shook her head. "I want to tell her, not write her."

Right before he was about to speak again there was a knock at the door. The pair looked up to find Natasha standing in the doorway smiling down at the two. "Am I interrupting?"

Wanda froze while Pietro arrogantly raised his eyebrow and announced his answer. "No. We were just finished talking."

Confusion was written on Nat's face and she stood there until Wanda shook her head and muttered a small "No," giving her the signal that she could come in.

"I'll be in the other room if you need me." Pietro got up, despite Wanda's silent plea for him to stay. He gave her a thumbs up and left the room.

Natasha closed the door and laid next to Wanda, wrapping her arms around the younger woman. "You okay?" Wanda nodded in reply and Natasha knew not to push. For now she'd just keep an eye on her, reassuring her that she could talk to her if need be.

Over the next few days Wanda seemed to be doing better. She was supposed to go to a party with Nat, but opted out to study for classes instead.

"Be safe," she whispered and planted a small kiss on Natasha's lips.

Everyone else went to the same party, leaving the house to just Wanda. She sent out a group message telling everyone to text her or ring her (at the very most importance) if they needed a ride. Wanda didn't drink much anyways so she didn't mind being the designated driver of the bunch. And besides, she didn't mind having some time alone, it gave her the absence of the boys so she could study.

However, after over an hour or so of studying Wanda was beginning to feel stressed. Her nerves were building and she could feel her jaw clench.

She needed a break.

With a small sigh, she got up and connected her phone to her speaker. After scrolling and clicking on her song of choice, Wanda found herself signing the words to a Modest Mouse song.

Green eyes closed as her hands began to string along with the words of the song. It was rather fast paced, but Wanda was able to keep up fairly well thanks to years of practice. Lyrics flowed through her fingertips and in the palms of her hands, her stress levels immediately decreasing as she went on.

Unbeknownst to her, however, Natasha was standing in the doorway watching her every move. She was absolutely mesmerized by Wanda's hand motions. Her finger spelling was very fast, and Natasha was curious to know how long Wanda had known ASL.

When the song was over, Wanda stopped her music and moved herself so she could study again. She grabbed her pens, pencils and highlighters, along with her textbook while her back faced Natasha.

"I didn't know you could sign." Natasha commented. A mix of shock and uneasiness quickly took over the calm look on Wanda's face.

It wasn't until then when Tasha put two and two together. She quickly rushed over to her girlfriend, and carefully engulfed her into a hug.

"Hey, no, I think it's really cool. You don't have to worry now, your secret's safe with me." Wanda began to shake in her grasp, tears forming in her eyes. She backed out of the embrace and against the wall, pulling her knees to her chest.

"No, you're supposed to hate me, laugh at me. You're supposed to be anything but be cool with it." Natasha tilted her head, "Is that what they did to you?"

Wanda peaked out from underneath her arms, the confirmative nod sent Natasha's heart well beyond sinking. She’d never understand how people could willingly be so cruel.

"I'm here to listen, not judge." Her words softly echoed in Wanda's mind, and she watched Natasha carefully to see if she was lying. When she didn't make any remarks or snide comments, Wanda knew it was safe. Accent heavy, she began letting words slip from her mouth.

"I have really bad anxiety when it comes to talking, so I just don’t. Asl makes it easier to communicate, but growing up I was often teased for it. You’re really good at reading me without it, so I hid it from you. Guess their words still haunt me...” Wanda finished, giving Natasha a little more insight on her life.

Natasha moved closer to her girlfriend, bringing Wanda’s shaking body into her embrace. She then kissed the top of her forehead.

Wanda looked up to see Natasha thinking, her eyebrows scrunched together and she was chewing on her lip. She nudged her.

“I think it’s quite beautiful if you ask me.” Wanda cracked a smile and rest her head on Tasha’s shoulder. “Beauty comes from pain, I guess.”

But Natasha shook her head, “No, No, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” Wanda nodded. She understood what Natasha was saying, she just didn’t believe it to be true when it came to herself. Nonetheless, she spoke the words, repeating the mantra so that maybe she could start to feel a belief in them.

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”

[eintsein]

Impostor Syndrome: What it is and how to deal with it

There may be times when you feel like a fraud, like at any moment people will find out that you have no clue what you’re doing and you don’t deserve any of your achievements. You think that you’re unworthy of praise, that you only succeeded out of luck.

This is known as Impostor Syndrome, and around 70% of people have struggled with it in their lives. The problem arises when high achievers fail to internalize their success, i.e. when you attribute your success not to your own abilities but rather to external factors.

Some say that impostor syndrome could be linked to traits like anxiety or neuroticism. Impostor syndrome has also been commonly attributed to behavioral causes like childhood experiences, e.g. being labeled as “the smart one” or “the talented one”.

Another huge factor is how well you think you fit into a certain group, e.g. impostor syndrome is common among people of a racial/ethnic/cultural minority, women in STEM, and international students at US universities.

Dr. Pauline R. Clance was the first to design a scale to measure impostor syndrome based on six factors

The impostor cycle, where someone is given an achievement-related task and they either (a) overprepare or (b) procrastinate

The need to be special/the best

Superhuman characteristics

Fear of failure

Denial of ability and discounting praise

Feeling fear and guilt about success

There are different types of impostors, as categorized by Dr. Valerie Young, an expert on impostor syndrome (note that these categories aren’t mutually exclusive):

I’ve personally dealt with the first two types. I’m fairly certain I can attribute being ‘the genius’ to childhood/adolescent circumstance: I’ve been known as ‘the smart one’ throughout elementary school and high school - every time I made a mistake, it was met with a chorus of ‘wahh jo made a mistake...’ Even last month when I had a mini-reunion with some of my high school friends, one of them said something along the lines of “I like when Jo makes mistakes because it reminds me that she’s human, too.” I can definitely say I’ve overcome that now because, you know, college - everyone’s as smart or smarter than you and works pretty hard.

Being ‘the expert’ is still something I’m still trying to overcome. Last spring when I was applying to internships, I only dared to apply to those where I met 100% of the requirements. I’ve been coding for like 4 years but I constantly think I’m incompetent. It once got up to the point where I literally took 3 similar courses to assure myself that I actually do know how to do full-stack web programming. I still struggle to draw the line between relearning something because I don’t think I really know it, versus learning something for the expansion of knowledge.

How do I deal with it?

Firstly acknowledge that you have impostor-related thoughts Awareness is the first step to changing how you think and how you act.

How does impostor syndrome look like in a school/college setting? Examples include

You refrain from asking questions because you think other students/TAs/the professor will think you’re dumb;

You don’t respond to questions even though you kind of know the answer but you always think your answers aren’t right enough or that they’re simply wrong;

You don’t participate in discussions because you feel that you won’t add any value; or

You prevent yourself from having an opinion because you feel like you have no right to have one.

Reframe your thoughts

Think of their possible effects Do these thoughts help or hinder me? Will anything useful come out of thinking this? Acknowledge that not speaking up may mean slowing your team down or depriving your classmates of potentially valuable insights.

Separate fact from feeling Are they factual or simply a misinterpretation of my environment?

Differentiate feelings of fraudulence from feeling like an outsider Does my work show that I’m incompetent or is the fact that I’m the only female in a team of males/POC in a team of Caucasians make me think I’m inferior?

Stop comparing yourself to other people You might think something along the lines of “there are already so many people who can do what I do but so much better, so what’s the point in even trying?” However, remember that these people were once where you were, and taking even the smallest of actions could help you get to where they are.

Be more forgiving with yourself

Rethink perfection Not everything has to be perfect. Even if you have high standards, not achieving those standards doesn’t make you any less worthy.

Reframe mistakes and identify areas of improvement It’s okay to be wrong or not to know everything. Think of mistakes as learning opportunities and indicators of gaps in your knowledge/understanding of something, as opposed to a negative measure of your self-worth. Being wrong doesn’t mean you’re fake; it just means you have more to learn.

For example, previously I would only answer a question in class if I was at least 90% sure that was the correct answer. That’s a high threshold, and I don’t think it’s very useful for helping me learn and grow. Over the course of a year, I’ve managed to lower that down to I’d say around 60% (50% with coffee lmao).

Collect positive experience

Remember and reflect on praises Think about the efforts you exerted to help you achieve something and the positive responses you garnered when you finally achieved it. Remind yourself of the words of encouragement other people have told you, no matter how small. You could even keep a folder/document/journal to look back on when you feel like a fraud.

Heck, sometimes I feel like my posts aren’t useful or my designs are terrible, but then you guys tell me such kind things and I think, maybe I’m not as bad as I thought.

However, while it’s good to remember the good words people have said, don’t work just for the sake of praise. Focus on the value of the work itself and not the validation that comes from it.

Focus on providing value

Focus on what you can say Instead of thinking about what you don’t know, focus on what you do know and what you can say. Even if what you say isn’t entirely correct or relevant, it’ll get others around you thinking.

Remind yourself that holding back is like robbing the world of your ideas There’s always some value in your words, even if you don’t initially think so. How that value affects the world or other people may differ. For example, when you put forward an idea/thought in a discussion, it could be that

If there were parts that were incorrect, other people might have had the same misconception and are more than happy for the clarification;

Again, if there were parts that weren’t correct, they might not have had the same misconception but now realize that there is a way in which the subject can be misinterpreted, thus allowing them to have a more comprehensive understanding of the subject; and/or

It’ll stimulate further thinking and discussion and raise more questions, especially if other people wouldn’t normally think what you just thought. Then other people could bounce off your idea and form an equally great one.

Take action You won’t feel as much of a fraud if you’re doing something that brings you a little closer to achieving your goals or that adds value to your work.

However, be careful not to overwork yourself. Every time you start doing something, pause and think: is this really important to my progress or am I just trying to prove myself?

Instead of working on too many things, do something outside your comfort zone each day no matter how small. Once you do this, focus on quality (your growth) instead of quantity (the number of things you do).

Also, for those of you who fall into the ‘expert’ category, this also means practicing just-in-time learning, i.e. learning things when you need it, not just to comfort yourself.

I hope that was helpful, and please don’t hesitate to reach out if you have any questions/comments/suggestions :)

[infini-tree]

FANFIC: against all odds - part 2

prev | next

Summary: One time they dwell on the thought of being caught, and the one time they were. It all works out, kind of. (Piqua Mystery Dungeon)

A/N: ‘i make no promises,’ i say, immediately writing the third fic for this au in one week? have I ever mentioned that the first thing I made fancontent of was the first pmd game?

Also, this really is just an opportunity to practice writing more scenes with the boys and figure out their tone.

_____________________________

George recalled a time when his dad called him precocious. 

What does that mean, he remembered saying. 

It means that you’re very smart for your age, his dad replied with a grin. You already get basic type matchups and dungeon theory better than most groups your mom’s mentoring in the guild she’s workin’ with!

The snivy had let out a laugh at the mental image of himself trouncing a bunch of grown-ups. Whoa, really?

Swear on the Lake Trio’s jewels, he said, putting up a hand to his chest, and he let out a little giggle as he lifted him up, up, up.

Experiencing the real thing was a bit of a-- well, maybe disappointment wasn’t the right word. Accurate, but not fitting. Tedious, maybe. The long stretches of nothing in-between took up more time than the actual dungeons themselves. He looked over to Harold, and he knew he felt the same.

The walk was silent and oppressive. George unfurled his vine-tie slightly and something fell out and onto his palm. It was a shiny half of a disc, but upon closer inspection its lustre had flaked away to reveal the clay underneath.

Sometimes he would turn the thing over in his hands, but if he had to be honest he had no idea why he kept the remains of the novelty hypno pendulum.

When the snivy first used it, he hadn’t expected anything to happen. He heard tales of the line being able to hypnotize its foes to sleep, and in the more outlandish stories suggest them to do something. Ultimately, it was a desperate act, and maybe that desperation was the thing that made it work.

It wouldn’t be the strangest thing that happened to them, but it had the distinction of being one of the first.

The latest strange thing was the quiet. Him and Harold knew Krupp-- knew how to get under his skin in record time, how to avoid him, the works. They knew how explosive his temper was-- even for an ice-type!

They also know that he was at its worst when he was quiet, so when the abomasnow didn’t react to the bombshell that was being Captain Underpants, it was... unnerving.

For the past few minutes, the boys were giving each other a Look, nudging the other into asking what was on both of their minds. Eventually, hesitance wore into mild frustration. George sighed, then pointed a glance Harold-wards that meant you owe me before breaking the silence with a long “Uuuuuuuh...”

“Yes?” Krupp cut in.

The snivy flipped the pendulum piece to his other hand. “Aren’t you mad?”

“About what?”

“About, you know-- hypnotizing you?” When no answer came, he prodded with, “Being Captain Underpants?”

The pine needles on his arm adjusted themselves in agitation. The snow on it sloughed off at the sudden motion and the boys had to step around the snow drift that was now on the middle of the road.

“You are mad!” Harold interjected.

The abomasnow’s tail slammed to the ground. “Of course I’m mad.”

“What he means is, we kind of expected, I dunno, yelling?” George explained. “Something about how we’re literally the worst-- anything!”

His pace slowed down. Krupp finally looked back at them for the first time since they explained the whole thing, but the expression was all wrong. His brow was more pinched in confusion than frustration. “What, you want me to yell at you?”

“No, but we’re kind of expecting it and would like to get it over with,” the snivy said with a shrug.

The temperature dropped several degrees. There was the frustration. Harold brought himself closer to George, and he leaned into the fluffy warmth.

“Get it over with--” Krupp spluttered. “We are literally being hunted down by every team this side of the region. Someone claiming to be one of my students from the future is spearheading that hunt and not only are pokemon listening to that, but he ripped my guildmaster title from me in what is essentially a forceful takeover.”

A thin layer of frost began forming on the path.

“I’m sorry I’m not dedicating every moment of my time being the World’s Worst Guildmaster, but some of us here have priorities. Like, say keeping himself and two children from not dying on his watch? From not getting caught?” He narrowed his eyes. “Do you know what they’re going to do to us if they catch us?

“I know those idiotic comics were a parody of the actual stories, but do you know what you’re parodying in the first place?” Puffs of frost breath punctuated each breath. “I know neither of you like applying yourselves, but you have to be at least a little aware.”

Harold had taken to picking at the ground with one of his front hooves. George traced a digit over the edge of the broken piece anxiously. Neither of them spoke up.

“Are you satisfied with that lecture?” And just like that, the frost started to melt. It slowly got warmer. “Because I’m not.”

(The boys never liked the quiet in general. Maybe that was why they were always so offput whenever he was.)

_____________________________

It wasn’t long before Krupp and Captain Underpants started talking. They kind of expected that. More often than not, they would wake up to scratching noises as one of them tried to write in the dirt with one of their pine needles.

What was more surprising was how quickly they had compromised on the whole switching thing.

“I’m good at fighting, and Guildmaster is good at planning travel stuff,” Captain explained as he floated them over to where the stairs were. “Neither of us are good at puzzles, but at least we haven’t encountered any!”

“Just like that?” Harold tilted his head.

The abomasnow ground his teeth in what was his attempt at a grimace. It looked weird on his face. “He said it was a matter of practicality, and working with what we’re good at makes sens-- ACH!”

His body tensed up in pain, and he instinctively held them closer to protect them. Harold began to struggle in his tight grip, eyes darting in every direction to figure out what had hit them.

“Captain? What’s wrong?” Panic began to creep into George’s tone.

“Hey, guys,” a familiar voice cut in.

George and Harold paled at the sight of Erica clambering up on the abomasnow’s shoulder. Even in the gloom of the dungeon, the violet crest around her neck glinted.

And Captain was going down, down, down. They braced for impact.

_____________________________

Erica, out of the boys’ circle of friends, was one of the ones who was more in-tune into their misadventures and ready to lend a helping hand. Erica was also the scariest guildmember-slash-student they’ve ever met; she had a cool head and popped up where you least expected. 

It was honestly no surprise that out of everyone, she was the first one who cornered them, and right between the stairs out of this place, too!

“What did you do to him?” Harold yelled, nudging the abomasnow to his feet. 

Captain looked, for a lack of a better word-- terrible. He looked like one more hit would do him in. While landing face-first would definitely leave a mark, they knew him long enough that it shouldn’t leave him straining.

And that’s when George finally noticed what was in the axew’s hands. In one hand was the three-pronged pounce wand that brought her up there with them, whining as the last vestiges of its power left it. In the other, the spiked two-edged wand also making a dying down noise-- it was most likely the thing that brought them down.

“Relax, I just didn’t want you guys to immediately fly off.”

Still, there were more pressing questions, like, “Why are you helping Melvinborg?” George made a face like the name was as bitter as the duosion’s personality.

“We all... kinda got no choice,” Erica replied with the nonchalance of listing off the day’s errands. The only thing that betrayed her was how she gripped the now-defunct wands in a vicegrip. Then, belatedly, “Sorry.”

“Wait, wait, wait, um-- uh--” Captain rushed forward in front of them, his arms spread out to protect them despite his fatigue. His face was scrunched up in the way he does when he was overthinking and none of them could tell whether it was because of the abomasnow’s fatigue or because he really didn’t know that he settled on, “Before you, uh-- take us in-- Plungerina can we talk, one human-turned-pokemon to another?”

To Erica’s credit, she was only tripped up for a moment before she steeled herself for a bit of improv. “Sure, right after I catch you.” She lunged forward and--

Tripped. Somehow. She poked her head up to look at the one entrance to the room, then seeing that no one was there, she opened her backpack and threw a box at their feet.

“Oh no, I am petrified,” she said, practically announced for all the floor to hear. Then, in a more regular speaking volume, “I hope they don’t take the care package I dropped that has supplies and letters from their friends and family.”

There was a moment of silence as the three of them processed what she said. And when they did, George put it in his satchel. “I... thanks, Erica.”

“You’re not welcome, because you stole from me, remember?” she said with a conspiratorial wink. She turned her attention to Captain. “You got one question before the rest catch up.”

“Do you know what they’re going to do to us once you turn us in?” The abomasnow was concerned, to put it mildly. But his tone reminded Harold of the same one he had when he asked long ago where dad went. Naïve, but you knew deep down.

Considering his talks with Krupp, he probably knows in some capacity.

“I figured you’ve been in tough scrapes like this, but I suppose maybe not?” His arms lowered. Harold looked at him worriedly; his pine needles were still shot up and pierced through his cape, despite the lull.

The axew appraised him for a moment, and she noticed the needles, too. “It’s weird to see you think this hard about anything.”

The boys grimaced at how blunt she was, but its definitely crossed their minds.

“It’s weird to think hard about anything!” Captain laughed.

“To answer your question, no, I don’t,” she frowned. “Knowing Melvin, and by extension Melvinborg, it’s probably something else than the, uh... standard. You know how he is with tinkering dungeon items to be more potent.”

And just like that, Captain’s cheery mood was back, even if it was a little more sedate than usual. The needles settled to its more natural position. “Okey-dokey, thanks Plungerina!”

All four of them tensed up at the sudden sound of shouting.

“Time’s up,” she gave a half-smirk half-smile. “Also, there’s a petrify orb in the package. Gotta make this look convincing, you know?”

“O-- oh!” George floundered for a moment before opening the box and taking it out. It let out a low hum.

“Don’t expect this to be a repeat thing,” she added, in the tone of voice that mean to definitely expect it. She stared at him, sensing his hesitance. “Relax, I’ll be fine-- the other teams are coming up and will bring me back first before getting to you. It’ll buy you a bit more time.”

The snivy was still a bit unsure about the whole prospect, but he held it high anyway. It flashed and it froze Erica in place before disappearing in a puff of smoke. And then they ran for the stairs.

(And then they continued to run.)

[jesussavedevenme]

After Effects Chapter 4

Chapter 4 here we go!!!!!!

The first thing Bracken noticed when he entered the room was the blinding light coming from Kendra. The aura that surrounded her seemed to have brightened in a way that definitely didn't fit the sickly pallor of her skin. Bracken squinted against it, willing his eyes to adjust. Over the years Kendra had gotten much better at controlling the brightness of her aura. To the point that, if you didn't know her, she could pass as fairy struck. Bracken wanted to chalk the sudden brightness up to the fact that she was too tired or too ill to control it but something told him it went deeper than that.

Tanu had told Bracken everything he knew about these symptoms,and Seth had told him everything that had happened up until this point. Something still wasn't adding up. Tanu was convinced that this was poison, but Bracken couldn't bring himself to agree with him. Kendra hadn't been in contact with anything to poison her. And no matter how hard he searched be couldn't find any sign of illness. Magical or otherwise. He decided he needed a new set of eyes, someone who wasn't shaking with anxiety. Someone who knew more about everything magic. The only person he knew like that was his mother. Over the course of 30 minutes, the symptoms seemed to be worsening instead of getting better. Her fever seemed to be slowly rising even higher. All color had drained her face, leaving Kendra as white as a sheet. What scared Bracken the most was that he couldn't reach her mind. Something impenetrable was blocking him. This meant he couldn't wake her or reach her mind to ask her what was wrong. Her breathing was ragged and short, as if it was a struggle to breathe. There was no doubt in Bracken's mind that he needed to get her to the fairy realm. Fast.

Something curious about what the whole situation was that Kendra's condition seemed to improve, even if only marginally, whenever she came in contact with Seth. The change wasn't noticeable unless you truly looked for it but whenever Seth got close enough or brushed against her, Kendra's face would take on a much less pained look and her thrashing would immediately settle. Bracken however couldn't decided what significance that held, if any. The siblings were impossibly close and it could very well be a reflection of that bond. Besides they were literally the others counterpart, complete opposites, in everyway shape and form. Over the years they had stunned Bracken, along with the rest of the magical world, with the things they were able to do together. Never before had light and darkness mixed in this way. Never before had they worked together, and the results were honestly astounding. Time and time again Bracken was reminded of how thankful he was that Kendra and Seth were on their side. Otherwise Bracken is sure that nothing would stop them from taking over the world.

Bracken reached for Kendra's face, attempting to brush away the hair that was matted to her face with sweat. He almost recoiled at the heat that assaulted his hand. He took a moment to focus on cooling his hand in hopes that some of that chill would seep in and bring down the fever that was raging through her body. He also tried to send waves of calm through her , as he had done so many times before, attempting to soothe her tortured mind even if he could not reach it. Bracken frowned when this seemed to make it worse and pulled his hand away. His heart aching with helplessness. This was something that he couldn't help her with. Something that he couldn't protect her from. And he hated every second of it. The fact that he seemed to have made it worse made him feel endlessly guilty and caused tears to well up in his eyes. Tears that he would refuse to let fall. Kendra's thrashing was reaching new levels and Bracken was worried that she was going to hurt herself. Tanu seemed to be thinking the same thing but Bracken stopped him before he could grab her.

"Seth, place you hand on her back," Bracken ordered, desperately trying to keep the shake out of his voice. Later when Kendra was settled and on the mend, he would break down but right now he shoved all of those feelings into a tightly sealed chest and assumed his perfectly practiced poker face. Seth looked incredibly confused but still did as he said without asking questions. Something Bracken was grateful for because Bracken wasn't quite sure he could give him answers. Bracken's earlier theories about her improving around Seth were proven true the second Seth's hand came into contact with her body and immediately her thrashing stopped. " Good. Keep it there, " He instructed. Seth nodded, looking every bit as bewildered as Bracken felt. In the moment the new development was very useful but in the long run it made things much more difficult. Kendra needed to get to the Fairy Realm however it seemed that the only person who was able to touch her safely was Seth. The one person who couldn't step foot in the Fairy Realm without lowering the defenses. Defenses that were already lowered because of the imbalance of the sources. Bracken dragged a hand down his face as he struggled to think of a solution and came up with only one.

"Seth pick her up, we need to get her to the Fairy Realm," If it was possible for Seth to look more confused he did. His eyebrows furrowed and he looked for all the world like almost puppy. It was times like these that Bracken wondered why people thought Seth was so scary. But then he remembered the fearsome displays of power and the towering height of the shadow charmer didn't help the image at all.

"I can't safely enter the Fairy Realm," He replied, picking Kendra up despite his confusion. Bracken chose to focus on Seth's eyes which were at least a good inch above his own, instead of the way Kendra hung limp and lifeless in his arms.

"No but you're the only one who seems to be able to touch her with sending her into a fit,"

" So we're going to what? Bring the Fairy Realm to us?" Bracken hand honestly pondered that suggestion however it would be nearly impossible to move everything needed into a either a secluded area or the main house. Even if it was somehow possible, it would take much too long. The solution he came up with wasn't much better in his opinion.

" No, the only thing I can think to do is to walk from here to the shrine and then I'll get her into the Fairy Realm, " Bracken said through a sigh, residing the urge to run his hand down his fave again or better yet tug out every strand of hair he had. The anxiety of the situation was eating him alive, churning his insides and causing his heart to pound seemingly out of control. It was taking everything in him not to break down.

" The walk there is about an hour from the main house at minimum," Came the deep voice of Tanu, who Bracken had honestly forgotten was there. The concern was written all over his face. Bracken picked up on the implications of that statement. The worry that none of them were willing to admit. It sent a pang through his heart and his desperation rose to new levels. " I would suggest taking Hugo. Hugo could carry Seth who could still keep in contact with Kendra and you could have an Astrid carry you."

The plan was brilliant and Bracken couldn't help but beat himself up because he didn't think of it. He tried his best not to think about what would have happened had Tanu no been here because the other man was right, an hour was much too long. Still he couldn't help but feel an immense wave of guilt, he wasn't entirely sure he grasped why but he felt as if this was his fault. Like he could have and should have done something to prevent this. He bring himself to nod, not sure if his voice would hold up, and forced down tears once more before turning towards the door with Seth in tow. He shot a look at Tanu from over his shoulder, hoping that it conveyed his gratitude and the tight but kind smile he got in return seemed to reply that he understood. When Bracken stepped outside, he found Seth had already called Hugo and was currently being lifted unto his shoulder. He wasn't exactly sure how it was possible but somehow, Hugo looked just as concerned as the rest of them. All activity in the yard seemed to have ceased as the fairies all stopped staring and occasionally whispering amongst themselves. Because, no matter how vain they were Kendra was still a respected member of the Fairy Realm. Even the most vain of fairies protect their own. Bracken brought his fingers to his lips in a shrill whistle, summoning the Astrids that had been lurking at the edge of the forest. He quickly explained the plan as Seth in turned explained it to Hugo. And then they were off.

The wind rustled in his ears and his hair blew backwards, occasionally smacking him in the face. He could hear the thumping of Hugo quick footsteps as he easily, kept up with the Astrid flying above him. For a few moments a group of fairies had followed, wanting to watch the event unfold, but one sharp look from him sent them scurrying back to the main yard. Any other day Bracken would have felt bad, seeing as they weren't really doing anything wrong however right now he had other things on his mind.

The short ride seemed to take an eternity. The passing minutes felt torturous. Finally the shrine came into view surrounded by its glistening lake and the gazebos that generally held good memories for Bracken. The Astrid deposited him on the island that held the shrine at the same moment that Hugo came bursting through the shrine sending leaves an birds scattering. The Astrid flew over and took Kendra from Seth before flying back, bypassing the journey over the lake, though he doubted the Niaids would bother them. That had been yet another oversight on his part, another thing he hadn't thought through, another thing that could have held dire results. His guilt continued to mount as the Astrid landed and passed Kendra over to him. He tightened his grip, holding her as her body stiffened and trembled, and stepped into the soothing light that would lead him into the Fairy Realm.

††††

The hospital infirmary was bustling as different healers ran around grabbing supplies and searching for solutions to an unknown problem. Celeste, his normally quite and timid sister, was confidently shouting orders and she stood at the head of Kendra's bed assessing the situation. Bracken stood helplessly at the entrance of the infirmary unable to go any further as it would hinder the progress of the healers. Kendra was thrashing again making it difficult to assess her condition. Pained whimpers left her mouth. He was sure that they were barely audible to everyone else, especially over the chaos but he heard every single one. And each one was like someone took a hammer to his heart, continually shattering it into millions of pieces.

The sounds of the infirmary began to fade out around him, replaced with thoughts that were much to loud. His chest tightened and seemed to restrict his breathing, causing it to come out in sharp pants. A firm hand was placed one his shoulder and an arm wrapped around him and he was forced out of the entryway and eased onto the cold marble floor. He wanted so bad to fight, to get back to Kendra, to help in someway but his body betrayed him. His panic deciding it would no longer be ignored and robbed him of his strength. And so all he could do was sit there and pant, desperately trying to draw in a full breath but failing every time. Hot tears burned down his cheeks and harsh sobs racked his body. The hands that had guided him out now cradled him, fingers gently scrapping against his scalp paired with a gentle rocking. For a moment he allowed himself to believe that it was Kendra. Calming him down after he woke up from a particularly harsh nightmare.

Eventually he began to calm down. Not because he felt better, no if it was possible he felt worse than before but, because he was too drained to continue and numbness had begun to set in. He pushed away from whoever was comforting him, feeling a deeps sense of shame fill him at his display of despair. He felt, as he always did in the palace, that a Prince should be more composed that he had an image to uphold. He slowly worked up the courage to look the person in the eyes and was shocked to be met with the concerned blue eyes of his father. This father didn't say anything, he rarely did these day. A far cry from the loud laughter of his childhood. Instead he just sat beside him keep a firm grip on his hand. He could hear his mother inside of the infirmary, presumably finding a way to help like Bracken wished that he could.

Time passed, though he wasn't sure how much. Everything seemed to move in a bit if a blur. It wasn't like before in the infirmary. This time he was aware that things were going on around him however he couldn't quite focus enough to identify them. Honestly, he couldn't bring himself to care what they were anyway. His thoughts continued to torture him with what if's and the steady presence of his father, while helpful, did little to combat it. If Kendra was here she would read to him, filling the silence with enough to keep his thoughts at bay while also not forcing his mind to Interact if it wasn't ready. That seemed to be all he could focus on right now. Thoughts of Kendra, ways that she always helped him and here he was unable to help her.

He distantly heard the voice of his mother calling his name but it was enough to pull him out of his haze. Next to his mother stood Celeste looking worried and uncertain. Bracken's anxiety began to pick back up but he shoved it down hoping that it would remain at bay. He stood on shaky legs, his father's hand falling from his grasp. He was instantly aware of the loss, he hadn't realized how much it had been helping him until it was gone. He followed them back into the infirmary where his eyes were immediately drawn to Kendra. Her light was still unnaturally bright and her face still held evidence of pain however her body looked relaxed for the first time since he'd arrived at Fablehaven earlier in the day. It was hard to believe that it was only about and hour or two ago. It seemed like a lifetime had passed since then. Bracken's tore his gaze away from Kendra and looked towards his mother and sister, eyes darting between them. Waiting impatiently for either of them to say something. To tell him what was wrong and how to fix it. Celeste was the one to break the silence with the clearing of her throat.

"What Kendra has is actually fairly common. Well, as common as Fairly Realm diseases can be. It's actually the same thing the ill fairies have come in with. Kendra has light poisoning," Celeste explained quietly. Bracken had heard of light poisoning, he had actually experienced it himself after a particularly interesting failed misadventure in his youth. Bracken however, had been visited the infirmary and had been better within the hour. Just time for a lengthy lecture, much to his displeasure. The same could not be said for Kendra who had only slightly improved. Mostly due to the fact that her fever had been successfully brought down. The explanation honestly made sense as it provided an explanation as to why Bracken couldn't sense anything. The problem wasn't being caused by an illness or physical poison, it was caused by light itself in turn explaining why her aura was so bright. It also explained why she improved around Seth. The natural darkness inside of him most likely cut through the light, bringing some sense of balance back into her body.

" Why is Kendra's body responding differently than the fairies?" Bracken asked, glancing around the otherwise empty infirmary that had been filled with fairies earlier in the day. Fairies that were now out going on with their lives as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

" Simple, our make ups are different. When our bodies come across a problem we simply purify and heal it instantly. When the human body runs into a problem it either attacks it or tries to work around it. Kendra's body is attacking whatever is poisoning her." His mother explained, " The problem is the thing that's poisoning her is light. She's a fairykind meaning that the light is a part of her, so instead of her body attacking what it views as poison-"

" It's attacking itself."Bracken finished running a hand down his face at the revelation. A revelation that once again explained many things. Her deteriorating state and her residence to treatments to state a few. " So, what do we do now?" He asked, closing the question that had been heavily on his mind ever since they arrived in the Fairy Realm.

"I don't know," Celeste admitted, her voice sounding shaky. Kendra and Celeste had gotten off to a bit of a rough start, mostly due to Celeste's quiet nature, but over time the pair had become rather close. " The best we can do is repair the damage her body does in an attempt to cleanse itself and hope that the poisoning wears off or lessens overtime," Bracken glanced at Kendra, looking as white as the sheets and much too small. The grim statement fueled his anxiety and he found himself gripping onto her limp hand, trying to force some of his strength into her body and praying that she was strong enough to pull through this.

†††††

Ok so here's chapter four. I honestly kind of hate it because it fought be the ENTIRE TIME! On the bright side I am officially done rewriting and I can now continue the story which is the fun part! As always let me know what you think and what you want to see next. I also absolutely love hearing what you guys think is going to happen next!

[comeonthinkers]

The Constant Struggle of Cuteness

I feel like, this morning, I need to talk about body image. Body image, and the constant barrage of conflicting messages around body image that I, as a midsize woman, receive and dissect every day.

First of all: midsize. Was this even a term five years ago? As “plus size” has become more ubiquitous and more accepted in the past decade, “fat” has been reclaimed, and “curvy” is suddenly more of a feeling than a descriptor, the terms I used to identify with as a teenager now, somehow, no longer apply to me anymore. I’m not sure what happened in the past decade; in high school I distinctly remember almost always being the largest woman in the room. Since then, whether it’s due to perception, self-confidence, age, awareness, or just... overall changes in the population, I now find myself distinctly in the middle. 

Note: I’ve been a size 12-16 my entire post-adolescent life. For one brief stint after college I could fit into a size 10. But before and since, 14 has been the mainstay numeral in my wardrobe. My steady friend and most accurate guesstimate across brands as to what my body may fit.

14, despite being the most (so I’m told) “common” size amongst women, was for many years infamous for being the most left-out, in-between size in clothing stores. In juniors’ stores (marketed toward teens: your Charlotte Russe’s and Forever 21′s), 14 would translate to the non-existent XXL: with “XL” usually falling in the “12″ range. In Plus Size or Women’s stores, 14 is a 0X; 1X is most commonly measured around a “16″ size.

About 5 years ago I found a fashion youtuber who made a video decrying the variation of a size 12 across different brands. And I’ll agree: sizes vary a lot from brand to brand, despite there being a base similarity in most big brand stores. She, like me, found herself living in this dreaded size 12-14 fashion purgatory, this no-womans-land of sizes. And even here! The numbers can’t be trusted!

She called herself “midsize”. She looked a lot like me. And at last, I had a label I could consistently search and see body types that I could identify with. From what I can tell, midsize is the chosen moniker for fashion influencers sizes 8-16, with of course, varying body shapes and compositions. For example, many of the folks I follow on instagram that claim “midsize” wear a VERY different bra size from me- so to find “fashion inspiration” I can actually act upon from midsize influencers, I also have to bring in a few accounts that allow for more top-heavy-friendly designs.

Despite all of the overwhelming positivity and diversity now available to me as a midsize woman (for example, almost all plus-size brands now start at a size 10-12 (00X-0X), and most “regular” retail brands now extend to a XXL), I can’t help but go back to my first observation: I’m no longer the largest woman in the room. While I don’t consider myself particularly unhealthy, I also know I’m not passing any presidential fitness tests any time soon. I find it difficult to run for extended periods of time. My joint strength isn’t nearly what it should be to support my weight. While muscular, I have a lot of extraneous body fat that adds strain to my daily life, and all my body’s systems: skeletal, endocrine, muscular, cardiovascular. This isn’t good. I’ve worked for years to try to find ways to get stronger, lose weight, and improve my overall health- in fact, the difficulty I faced when trying to lose weight was what led me to discover that I have PCOS and a few hormonal hurdles to maintaining a healthy body weight.

But when I try to research how best to approach health and weight loss with PCOS, the studies are few and far between- and when available are fairly inconclusive and far from thorough. I’m left to follow MORE accounts of personal success stories, all of which are biased toward one product or another, one lifestyle brand or book tour, all of which are antithetical to every other product, book, or brand I’ve seen before.

On the one hand, I’m grateful to see more body types represented in the media.  It IS helpful to my self-esteem to normalize the bodies of women both my size and larger than me (even if there’s still a prevalence of too-smooth skin and too-round belly buttons). But I also worry about how we tend to conflate feeling good about ourselves to being healthy. They aren’t the same. And we’re letting commercial forces tell us that it’s okay to be unhealthy even when attempting to BE healthy: mentally or physically.

Time to come clean here: for the past year, I’ve been experimenting on and off with a carnivore lifestyle, which, OBVIOUSLY, many people assume is super unhealthy, much like the stigma around Atkins in the early 2000′s. Honestly, it feels a lot like Atkins did back in the day: lots of bacon, burgers, steak, and eggs. Quite literally “zero-carb”, as opposed to just “low-carb”. While low-carb isn’t really new anymore, and many people can see carnivore as a logical step past the surprisingly universally accepted ketogenic diet, I was amazed to discover just how much the “science” of the trendier diets of the past decade (paleo, keto, whole-30) don’t match up to the scientific, accepted nutritional advice of the actual medical community.

Last year I started going to a weight-loss clinic at the behest of my OB-GYN in an attempt to get my PCOS and weight “under control”. I’m gonna spoil most of the rest of this rant by saying this was a pretty dumb idea for someone like me. This clinic was created around those with extreme weight issues, for whom psychological care and bariatric surgery are the most “effective” forms of treatment (again, according to the health care system that seems determined to sell it, but I’ll talk more about THAT another time). The nutritionist I met with gave me the same spiel I’d read time and time again from every weight-loss specialist book I’d bought, despite me relaying to her my decades-long struggle with traditional diets and fat-loss strategies. A ketogenic diet was never recommended to me, nor any kind of actual dietary changes to help with hormone balance/control: I was prescribed metformin (a drug for insulin resistance most commonly prescribed to type 2 diabetics) and told to eat a low-fat, high-fiber diet.

I didn’t lose any weight. My periods didn’t regulate. I just stopped gaining weight as fast... although I did eventually gain back the 12 pounds I’d lost from my first 2 months on carnivore. 

The truth is, that treatment plan, that clinic... it doesn’t exist for someone who is trying to change their body chemistry. It might work for folks that are so obese that literally ANY form of mindful eating will help them lose 200 pounds. But let’s be real: if I lost 200 pounds, I’d weigh 6 pounds. I’m a tall, muscular woman with some fat that has tried all the recommended diets for fat loss. Through them all, I fight cravings and energy loss, mood swings, and all the symptoms that come with PCOS. The ONLY thing I’ve found in the past 10 years that actually helps with my PCOS? 

Regular exercise, stress management, and a carnivore diet. 

I’ll also point out that when I DID lose a considerable amount of weight after college (due to what I think was a combination of 1. getting enough sleep for once, 2. intermittent fasting, and 3. regular hiking), it was also easier for me to maintain my weight and many of my PCOS symptoms went away. It wasn’t until I switched to a HORMONAL BIRTH CONTROL method that I then gained back all of the weight I lost (and then some) and once again began fighting uncontrolled PCOS symptoms. They compounded on each other, and made it harder and harder to get back to any kind of “normal”. 

So, I’m back on carnivore. In addition to more stable energy, noticeable reduction of PCOS symptoms, and slight weight loss, I also just... hurt a lot less on carnivore. Along this journey I’ve finally realized that I do in fact have a chronic pain problem. Whether it’s due to chronic inflammation, past injuries, or food sensitivities, I’m not really sure: but I know when I eat carnivore, my chronic pain all but goes away. Recently, I’ve been recovering from a back injury, so there was of course some pain associated with that (as well as a break from regular exercise, which I plan to get back to once I’m cleared by my chiropractor), but the daily body aches, numbness, and discomfort?

Gone. 

I’ve got regular periods when I eat this way- like, ACTUALLY one a month like I’m supposed to have. My facial hair growth slows down, even thins out. My focus improves. I sleep better, and actually follow a normal circadian rhythm. What’s total bananas is that I’m not the only one who experiences this: MANY folks who’ve tried this way of eating report daily quality of life improvements.

I’m not going to say everyone should eat this way; I’m not even going to suggest that everyone with PCOS should eat this way. But I WOULD love to see some actual RESEARCH done on this way of eating- or even better research on a ketogenic diet! I’m so frustrated by the lack of medical research on nutrition, and in particular the lack of action to curb the universally-accepted-to-be-unhealthy nutrition standards in America. While I won’t say it’s hard to eat carnivore (cause like, all diets are hard), I have noticed over the years that NO ONE IN OUR COUNTRY IS HEALTHY anymore- except for those whose JOB it is to be healthy. And this isn’t a coincidence!! Almost all cultures that have adopted American corporatized food structures are chronically unhealthy, and much, much more fat than they used to be.

I agree that being fat isn’t always a personal failing, and I’m so, SO glad that more and more figures in our media diets are representing the diverse catalogue of body shapes and sizes reflected in our world. I’m happy that my future daughter won’t be fat-shamed the same way I was as a little girl, and that she likely won’t be told (like I was) that she’s too fat to be what she wants to be when she grows up, despite not actually being all that fat. 

BUT. Fat representation is not the hill I want to literally die on. I’m not willing to throw my health, my comfort, my ability to be active, away for my “right” to eat ice cream every day. I’m sick of being marketed to constantly as a garbage disposal. I’m not just here to eat and diet and wear clothes.

I’m here to LIVE. I’m here to plant gardens and make art and take walks and enjoy the seasons. And I can’t do a lot of those things if I’m constantly sick and in pain. And it’s way harder to enjoy not being sick and not being in pain when all we know to do as a society when spending time together is... eat food. 

What frustrates me is, I think so much of this really comes down to marketing, corporate profit-mongering, and the way our political system is set up to make laws for companies instead of people. I think capitalism is making us fat and unhealthy, to sell us sugar and diets and medicine and surgeries in an endless cycle of crap. I don’t really have much more to say on that, I don’t have sources, except like... well, look around you. Look at the system we have. Look at what we’re told to do to escape it. And look at how many forces are there to take us right back to the beginning of the roller coaster when we have a little success. 

Side note/conspiracy theory time: I actually think liposuction might be a more safe and effective (literally EFFECTIVE not just safe) form of “weight loss surgery” in helping folks with actual, permanent weight loss. Hear me out: while I will fully admit I can’t remember where I read any of this (as I’ve read so many scores of information regarding health and weight loss over my lifetime), I seem to remember body fat working something like this: it’s really easy for your body to make new fat cells, but very difficult for your body to destroy them. So, when you gain fat, it first occurs by your body filling your fat cells with fat, until they can’t hold anymore, and then your body makes new fat cells, which makes it easier for your body to hold onto said fat. The best way to “reset” your body’s fat threshold is to literally destroy or remove the fat cells. And, I assume, if you adopt more healthy habits AFTER having liposuction, your body would be less likely to create more fat cells than it was when you lived an unhealthy lifestyle.

Bariatric surgery is incredibly invasive and dangerous, and almost always ends up reversed by bad habits and your body’s natural ability to STORE FAT AND STRETCH YOUR STOMACH. It’s a temporary solution, and often proves to be ineffective in the long term, and leads to many unfortunate complications over time, not to mention the recovery from that surgery is LONG and TOUGH.

But liposuction (the most COMMON FORM OF PLASTIC SURGERY, I’ll add), is the only “weight loss” procedure (despite not being labeled as such- it’s “cosmetic surgery” even though it most definitely WOULD result in weight loss, right?) that actually removes fat from your body. Literally takes the fat cells away so your body can’t fill them up again, without once again needing to create more.

But bariatric surgery is covered by insurance, and liposuction isn’t... despite the fact that removing weight and fat from the body would be a more instant and potentially effective cure for obesity and its underlying symptoms, and being a simpler procedure overall, as well as extremely common. 

So like... why is being fat something poor people are forced to endure dangerous surgery and super long recoveries and lifetime habit changes to overcome, but rich people just get to have their fat vacuumed away? Sounds sus to me. 

[steves-on-a-plane]

Run. (Pt. 7)

Part One /Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six 

Words: 2084 Pairing: Tony Stark & Reader   Timeline: The Avengers: Age Of Ultron [2015]   Other Info: Run AU     Summary: Following another successful mission, everyone is gathered at the Avenger’s Tower for a party. As the party begins to wind down, someone arrives who wasn’t on the guest list.

April 2015

“What do they do in there all day?” Steve Rogers nodded to the door that led to your husband’s lab. The two of you were seated in the lounge area, slightly away from the rest of the party. You were sat on a long couch where you could watch Tony effortlessly work the room schmoozing with all of the guests. Steve sat across from you on a slightly smaller couch, purposely facing away from the circus behind him. Parties had never been his thing in any time period. The “they” in question was of course Tony and Dr. Bruce Banner.

“Please, they don’t tell me anything.” You scoffed. “All I know is Bruce has been here day and night since you guys got back from Sokovia. I had to send in reinforcements last night to get them to come up for dinner. It’s a miracle either of them surfaced long enough to show up to this party. I was hoping you’d know what’s got them so worked up.”

“They don’t bother explaining anything to me. We keep the science strictly need to know.” Steve sighed.

“Captain Rogers!” Your fifteen-year-old daughter Serina joined you and Steve in the lounge. “Man, you are hard to track down!” She exclaimed sitting down on the couch next to you. “I wanted to thank you because Mom and Tony said you were the one who persuaded them into letting me come to the party. I’ve been trying to get into an Avengers party for years.”

“All I said was that this party was to celebrate the team and that you, your mom, and Eddie, you’re part of the team too.” Steve explained. “Families should be together as much as possible and we take up a lot of Tony’s time.”

“Well, I wanted to say thanks, just the same. Now I’m off to challenge Thor to an arm-wrestling match!” Serina jumped up from the couch and began walking through the party in search of the God of Thunder.

“She’s a good kid, Serina.” Steve told you. “Tony mentioned you’ve been having a hard time with her father.”

“Ah, he talked to you about The Architect.” You nodded before taking a sip from your drink. “Michael is trying to convince the court that what Tony does is dangerous and that we’re putting Serina at risk every day just by being associated with him.”

“What we do is dangerous.” Steve agreed cautiously. “But does he really think Serina would be safer or any less of a target if she weren’t in your care?”

“Well that’s the argument that we, and our lawyers, are trying to make. The whole thing is a real mess.” You shook your head. “But Michael would have found something else to come after us for if not this. The worst part is that he doesn’t even answer Serina’s calls half the time and he’s constantly pushing back visits.”

“That’s certainly an advantage for you and Tony, right?” He asked.

“Sure, but it doesn’t exactly improve Serina’s already strained relationship with her father.” You sighed.

“Hey! There she is, the Iron Lady and Captain Underpants!” Clint greeted you enthusiastically. He sat between you and Steve, taking up residence on the floor. You began to suspect Clint might be a little drunk.

“Isn’t that what they called Margaret Thatcher?” You recalled. “If I’m going to get a nickname, I’d like it to at least be my own. How are you feeling, Clint?”

“Better than ever, but I thought I’d come hang out over here with you two anti-socials for a while.” He yawned. He found a pair of drumsticks on the table and started fidgeting with them. He rolled them between is fingers causing the pieces of wood to spin.

“Party’s winding down.” Bruce commented as he joined your small gathering. He sat on the other end of your couch, not wanting to step over Clint. “Tony’s asking the team to stay the night. Is he planning a sleep over?” He asked you.

“You see more of him than I do these days.” You shrugged. “Maybe he’s planning on unveiling whatever it is you’ve been working on in the lab for the past three days.” Bruce’s eyes widened as he sipped generously from his glass of water.

“No, ah,” He shook his head. “That didn’t exactly pan out how we thought it would.”

“Say, [Y/N], you know your kid’s over there arm-wrestling, Thor?” James Rhodes and Maria Hill had now made their way into the lounge. The Colonel pointed to the bar where you daughter was seated opposite Thor. The two of them each grasping the other’s hand with their elbows  on the bar.

“I’m sure she’ll go easy on him.” You joked. You had full faith that Thor wouldn’t allow any harm to come to your daughter.

As other guests began to leave the rest of the Avengers filtering into the lounge area. Natashia sat next to Bruce, she didn’t share the same reservations about climbing over Clint. She would have no problem stepping on him if he got in her way. Tony kissed you on the cheek before siting in an armchair near your end of the couch. The only ones missing were Thor and your daughter. Serina bounced over excitedly on the balls of her feet followed closely by the God of Thunder.

“I won!” She announced triumphantly before perching herself on the arm of the couch between you and Tony. Thor placed mighty Mjolnir on the center of the coffee table as gently as someone would a book or a mug. Before wedging himself between Sam Wilson and Steve.

“Yes, you have raised a mighty warrior, Mrs. Stark! She has made a worthy opponent for me this evening.” Thor nodded.

“Thor said that when I’m older he might let me try to wield Mjolnir!!” She announced.

“Rina, I think it’s time for you to call it a night, Kiddo.” Tony suggested.

“I was hoping I could stay up and hang out with everyone a little bit longer.” She frowned.

“It’s a trick!” Clint commented from his seat on the floor, brining everyone’s attention to him. “Ah whosoever be he worthy shall haveth the power!” He mumbled in a terrible impersonation of Thor. “Whatever man! It’s a trick!” This earned a hearty laugh from Thor.

“Please, be my guest.” The God of Thunder invited.

“Really?” Clint scrambled to his feet. He tossed aside the drumsticks and grasped the hammer with one hand. He pulled on the hammer. It didn’t budge.

“You know, Clint, you’ve had a hard week. No one will blame you if you can’t get it up.” Tony smirked, forgetting that his teenage daughter was sitting right next to him.

“Please, Stark, but all means.” Clint invited your husband to try his luck.

“I’ve never been one to shrink away from a challenge.” Tony agreed, getting up from his seat. “It’s physics.” He commented, shaking his limbs. “Right, so if I lift it, then I get to rule Asgard, right?” He asked placing both of his hands on the hammer.

“Yes, of course.” Thor nodded. A childlike grin was spreading across his face. He was enjoying this. Tony tugged once on the hammer, which of course didn’t move.

“I’ll be right back.” He walked off. This sparked a friendly competition among everyone with each of the Avengers taking turns trying to lift the hammer from the coffee table. Things got even more interesting when Tony and Rhodey couldn’t lift the hammer together who both of them were wearing gauntlets form their Iron Man and War Machine suits. Even Maria gave it a go. Serina of course was all too excited to jump in on the action.

“That’s not a question I need answered.” Natasha commented when her time came around.

Even you had tossed your hat into the ring, but it was a futile attempt. No one could lift the hammer except Thor. Steve got the closest. While the Hammer didn’t move a millimeter for anyone else, it did at least creak when held between the palms of Captain Steve Rogers.

“It’s rigged. The handle’s imprinted right?” Tony tried to guess once everyone had had their go. “Like a security code. Whosoever is carrying Thor’s fingerprints is I think the literal translation?”

“Yes, yes.” Thor nodded, getting up from his seat. “I have simpler one. You’re all not worthy.” This remarked was greeted with boos, laughter and half-hearted chuckles.

“Serina, come on,” You said, getting up from your seat. “Let’s go check on your brother and get both of you ready for bed.”

“Ugh, fine.” She rolled her eyes. “Good night Avengers! See you at breakfast.” You both walked over to a flight of stairs that lead to the bedrooms and you were halfway to Eddie’s room when the entire apartment was filled with a piercing high-pitched sound. Almost like feedback from a microphone.

“What the hell was that?” You looked down from the balcony that overlooked the lounge. Tony pulled a small device out of his pocket and studied it. It seemed to have readings of something on it. Then there was the sound of electronics whirling, and a graveling voice calling out from below you.

“Worthy?” The voice asked. You looked down to see a robotic silhouette. It was directly under you but about five yards across the room from everyone else. It looked like one of the Iron Legion suits Tony had designed, but it seemed to be only partially assembled. It was unfinished and missing parts and walked hauntingly out of sync.

“No.” The mechanical voice answered its own question. “How could you be worthy? You’re all Killers.”

“Stark?” Steve looked to Tony for an answer. You were thankful that you’d talked tony Out of an all glass balcony when the Avenger’s Tower was being build. Thanks to the layers of steel that separated you, the mechanical monster below hadn’t noticed you or Serina upstairs.

“JARVIS?” Tony called for his artificial assistant. You could tell he’s was trying to hide the panic he was feeling.

“I’m sorry, I was asleep… Or I was a dream.” The mechanical suit rambled.

“Reboot Legionnaire OS. We’ve got a buggy suit.” You hard Tony tell the device in his hand.  No reply came from JARVIS. He started tapping at the device trying to access the system manually.

“Mom,” Serina whispered next to you. “What is that thing?”

“I don’t know.” You whispered back. “But it’s okay. Tony can fix it.” You promised. But as you looked down at your husband you could tell form his expression, he wasn’t sure that he could.

“There was this terrible noise…And I was tangled in…in strings…I had to kill the other guy. He was a good guy.” The suit continued to lament as it jerked around wildly.

“You killed someone?” Steve asked, he stepped around the furniture so that he was standing next to Tony.

“Serina, go in your brother’s room. Shut the door and stay quiet. Do you understand me?” She nodded and did as she was told.

“Who sent you?” Thor demanded.

“I see a suit of armor around the world.” The suit played an audio clip of your husband and that was enough of an answer for you. Whatever this thing was it had to do with what Tony and Bruce had been working on in the lab all week. You ran the extra few feet and hid yourself in your son’s room. You could hear the sounds of repulsors powering on and firing, you heard gun shots, and glass shattering. You two children looked at you with absolute terror in their eyes.

“Everything is going to be okay.” You didn’t know if you were affirming this more for them or yourself. “Come sit on the bed with me.” You sat on the edge of your son’s race car bed and both kids eagerly scrambled over to you. With a child nestled close on either side you held one in each arm.

“Your dad does this kind of thing every day.” You reminded them. “And he’s not alone, he’s got all of his friends, Like Captain Rogers…”

“And Thor!” Serina added. She flexed her muscles the way she’d seen Thor do earlier.

“And Hulk!” Eddie added excitedly.

“That’s right, now they’re all down there, so we don’t have to worry, okay?” You kissed both of your kids and helped them close and waited for someone to tell you that it was over. The danger had passed.

[hey-hamlet]

This is gonna be a rough one: did DPTAM Izuku ever had suicidal comiplations and the OFA vestiges had to talk him out of it?

so, trigger warnings for literally everything ever. child abuse, implied csa, a character deciding to commit suicide, no written happy ending either. To make this hurt a little less; this isn’t canon in the AU. Also, Aizawa saves him and after Izuku tells him what happened he texts Present Mic who screams at All Might so hard he crashed through 8 different walls. 

Izuku’s room used to feel safe. His childhood bedroom had been strung wall to wall with images of his hero, that smile always improving his mood after a rough day. After he’d met the man behind the smile the posters and merchandise lost some of their magic. Not long into his training and the amount of All Might memorabilia that lined his room had been drastically reduced. Still, his room had never lost its feeling of sanctuary. 

[Continue?] 

His room in the dorms had felt foreign for the first week. He couldn’t relax – it had made him lose sleep, caused him to be even jumpier than usual. That feeling quickly faded, again leaving his room feeling safe. Like home.

Not now.

Not anymore.

Izuku ached. Every part of him hurt, even the brush of his sleep clothes over his arm had tears stinging his eyes. His shirt had been pulled so hard it had permanently distorted the collar and cut into his skin, staining it with spots of rust. His shorts had torn along the waist, still held together by the elastic band. His head felt sticky and he dully remembered his head colliding sharply with the headboard.

All Might had –

Had –

Izuku sobbed. Again and again, until he could barely breathe. His scarred fingers twisted in his hair, yanking so hard the strands threatened to break. Something warm and wet covered his fingers, running down his arms and further staining his shirt. God, he hurt so bad – He didn’t want to hurt anymore. He tried to stand on shaking legs, knees colliding painfully with the floorboards. An image of the dorm roof arose in his mind, an almost forgotten suggestion replaying on a loop.

“- take a swan-dive off the roof -”

He dragged himself to his feet.

Before he’d even reached his door something twisted itself into being before him, shimmering form looking almost like an image projected onto fog.

  Nana’s heart was in her throat, racing with equal parts fury and horror. Toshi – her little squirt of a kid, all smiles and ideals – he’d changed. He’d changed so much. She’d seen it happen too, trapped in One for All as all the other vestiges were. She’d known he wasn’t the same boy she’d gifted a quirk to all those years ago but that was to be expected, right? It didn’t click how much he’d changed until he’d met his own successor.

Her boy had become a monster.

She and other others had watched with rapidly mounting fury as Toshi had systematically broken down an already fragile boy, hurting him in ways most villains weren’t capable of, let alone someone she’d thought was good.

Izuku, a boy she’d begun to think of as her own, was sobbing so hard he couldn’t breathe. He wanted to – he was going to hurt himself. Horribly.

“Kid?” Her voice was quiet but Izuku flinched as if he’d been struck, stepping away from her with wide eyes.

“Nana?” It was far from the first time he’d seen one of the past wielders, they’d tried their best to talk to him, to soothe a little of the hurt Toshi had caused. The barriers that kept them from the wielder were weaker than ever in Izuku, but still incredibly strong. She could feel the others dragging themselves through the mists, twisting into form beside her. Every one of them was furious. Every one of them was terrified.

“Hey, short stack.” Daigoro had a few stray tears in his eyes. She was pretty sure all of them did. “Why don’t you head down to the showers and get changed into some fresh clothes, yeah? We’ll all keep watch.” Izuku just sobbed, shaking his head.

“I can’t – not any more. Hurts. I just want it to stop.” Daigoro reached out a wide hand, moving to comfort him. Izuku flinched back harshly and he drew his hand back as if he’d been burnt. “ ‘M gonna make it stop.” He pulled on a smile that broke their hearts. “Sorry I wasn’t better.”

He pushed past them – through them – walking towards the staircase on shaking legs. Nana’s heart would have stopped had she still had one. Nana forced herself out of the loaming pit of horror that had started to draw them all downwards. “Buri!” She threaded a bit of her old heroes steel into her voice. The first wielder snapped towards her, tear tracks stark against his face. “Get Eraserhead. I don’t care how just get him up to the roof.” Buri nodded, eyes still wide. The first wielder barely looked older than Izuku.

They weren’t losing another kid. Not like this.

Buri was gone in a flash. The others turned to her. She grit her teeth.

“You’re still pros. Come on, we’ve got a kid to save.”