#or is she sabotaging herself?

[cinamun]

She just signed it away | Next

[bigfatbreak]

Birds of a Feather previous / next

[shalaaex]

Is there a she-ra fandom on tumblr somewhere?

[ekingston]

What do you think would be lena's courage gaunlet test

therapy

[taylortruther]

like, she thought safety was denying parts of herself. but she realized she didn't have to cut off so much. and that's when she outgrew the fishbowl and the cage started feeling restrictive.

[mcytegg]

Can we not joke about the killerbunnies betrayal

please

@everyone

[demonlike-judge-of-fire]

thinking abt how sleep deprivation stunts growth and han sooyoung is so short because

[johnconstantinesdick]

AU where the Gramarye Troupe catches wind of Apollo when he’s a teenager and takes him in. Apollo does not want to be here and is going to make it everyone else’s problem. Everyone is trying fruitlessly to make him learn magic and he firmly believes this is the stupidest shit in the entire goddamn world.

The only good thing Magnifi did, in Apollo’s correct opinion, is tell him how his bracelet worked. Apollo proceeds to use his power to figure out all of the Gramarye magic tricks & then obnoxiously explain this back to everyone to make them feel stupid.

Magnifi just sees this as an encouraging amount of promise. He’s like Apollo you are the one true heir to Troupe Gramarye & Apollo is like no thank you I am going to get a real job. Give the Troupe to Trucy please & thanks she deserves it more than those other two clowns.

[wonder-worker]

During [the spring and summer of 1141], a number of contemporary narrative sources agreed that Matilda’s sudden and unexpected success went straight to her head. Matilda’s most renowned modern biographer has suggested that “conduct acceptable in a powerful king . . . was not acceptable in a ‘Lady of the English’. This line of reasoning can be taken quite a bit further. It is clear that contemporaries expected Matilda to emulate the behavior of those women who had previously held the rank of regina, and act like a queen consort while performing the office of king. Most queens consort, however, did not have to consolidate recognition of their position as Matilda was constrained to do. Nearly all the chroniclers who had marveled at her assumption of power turned on her immediately. Not surprisingly, the Gesta Stephani took the greatest exception:

She at once put on an extremely arrogant demeanor instead of the modest gait and bearing proper to the gentle sex, began to walk and speak and do all things more stiffly and more haughtily than she had been wont.

But other more sympathetic chroniclers also joined this chorus of disapproval: Henry of Huntington described her as “elated with insufferable pride” while the Worcester chronicler noted her “hard heart” as she strove to consolidate her position. Had she been a man, Matilda’s decidedly authoritarian style might have passed for a regal show of strength. Indeed, Matilda probably felt that if she was to hold on to her newly acquired status, she needed to behave like a king. Thus, Matilda’s forward movement from recognition of her status to the execution of her office was fraught with gendered difficulties concerning how a woman ought to conduct herself.

...As she anticipated her crowning, Matilda strove to consolidate her dynastic claims and establish her authority. It seems reasonable to suppose that Matilda looked to her father and her first husband for examples of successful kingship as she did for representational purposes. Both Emperor Henry V and King Henry I were suspicious, uncompromising, relentless, and ruthless in the pursuit of their aims. Probably both would have advised Matilda to follow their example. This was exactly what St. Bernard told Queen Melisende of Jerusalem following the death of her husband: “show the man in the woman; order all things . . . so that those who see you will judge your works to be those of a king rather than a queen.” Much of Matilda’s behavior during the spring and summer of 1141 can be explained as the emulation of male gendered kingship. But kings had the built-in advantage of female consorts to soften the more hardboiled aspects of their rule; Matilda had played that very role herself for her first husband. Nevertheless, in 1141, Matilda eschewed the feminine aspects of queenship completely, in effect negating what could have been useful symbolism to bolster the construction of her authority. But for Matilda to be perceived as a soft, forgiving, and gentle woman at the one moment she needed to consolidate her position at the top of a male dominant political society would not have been practical.

But by constructing herself as a female feudal lord, and emulating male gendered kingship, Matilda annoyed contemporary observers. The chroniclers’ hostility may have been due to the fact that Matilda was claiming kingly sovereignty for herself alone, and not in association with either her husband or her eldest son. The Gesta Stephani described Matilda as not only arrogant, but also spurning the advice of her chief advisors, the earl of Gloucester, her uncle King David of Scotland, and the “kingmaker” himself, the Bishop of Winchester. The Gesta implied that if Matilda had behaved as a deferential woman, and heeded the counsel of her male advisors, she could have devised a means to permanently depose Stephen, and be crowned and anointed in his place. The Gesta placed Matilda’s ultimate failure at her own door, blaming it on her arrogant reliance on her inferior, womanly intellect and emotions.

Matilda’s hard-line stance, acceptable in a male king, bothered the authors of the Worcester chronicle and the Gesta, suggesting that contemporaries were confused by what they wanted the “Lady of the English” to do, indicating that, as a woman and a domina, she should behave gently like a queen rather than forcefully like a king. Combined, all the chroniclers, with the exception of Malmesbury, suggested that Matilda should have used the intercessory powers of queenship to set Stephen free, moderated the harsher aspects of her father’s rule, and excused the Londoners from financial support. Although a more diplomatic approach might have helped, freeing Stephen at that moment in time would have realistically served no practical purpose in establishing Matilda’s authority. And, in denying Eustace his inheritance, Matilda was only imitating the efforts of her father, Henry I, who also dealt harshly with challengers to his throne. Henry I kept his elder brother Robert Curthose in prison until he died, and prevented his nephew, William Clito, Curthose’s heir, from gaining any aspect of the Anglo-Norman inheritance. Matilda wished to convince her contemporaries that she was quite capable of being a king, but their reactions betrayed hostility toward her as a woman presuming to establish kingly authority.

-Charles Beem, "Empress Matilda and Female Lordship", The Lioness Roared: The Problems of Female Rule in English History"

[hellcatchvalley]

laudna: the sword is cursed. and bad. it will corrupt you. orym: hm. source? laudna: trust me. orym: mm. doubt. laudna: also i want to spiritually inhale it. orym: the sword you said was too cursed and corrupt to Use? you want to Eat it? and feed it to the evil woman in your chest? laudna: yes. orym:

[thegreatyin]

How would the Scoundrel react to Miss Emilia Stone, do you think? To give you an idea of who she is, the Threadbare Outrider is one of the alternate identities of Barnabus Moss, and possibly the closest to who he actually is - he's only still an egg because he's too busy with his job to give too much of a shit about being trans right now.

She is functionally the Hyde identity; open revolutionary, Parabolan wanderer, purveyor of extreme and generally unnecessary violence. I also considered naming her the Extremely Unlicensed Silverer - she has never actually fulfilled the requirements to become a proper silverer (she thinks the sunglasses look kind of dumb) but she offers equivalent services for cut-rate prices to people who can't afford a "real professional."

In terms of her actual personality, she is... frighteningly happy. To steal a phrase, she wields her joy like a hammer; judiciously and with great violence. Moss is basically drunk on life whenever he's her, and it very much shows. She is a release valve on all of his life's worries - whenever he gets too pissed off at his life as Moss or Haversham or the spy, he can just duck into Parabola and gut a few chessmen with a meathook to unwind.

Correspondingly, he gets really irritated under the hood when she has to act consistent with the persona rather than how he actually feels - for example, Emilia is the kind of person who doesn't really dislike anyone, so when someone pisses him off she can't really show it without breaking the cheer, and it is thoroughly upsetting to him.

I think original flavour Moss would probably be fascinated by the Scoundrel, from a professional standpoint - he has a degree in the Correspondence and the whole bat thing is very interesting - whilst simultaneously being deeply, deeply exhausted by the man's life choices. Meanwhile I think Emilia would enjoy doing this to him.

Thoughts?

first of all, love the OC dissertation, chewing ur little guy like a gummy bear as we speak

second of all, the scoundrel would probably react the same as they always do- with overwhelmingly smug manners and more than a little bit of "i'm better than you and i'm being generous and indulging you by existing in your presence"... at least at first.

depending on how their interactions go from there, the scoundrel would either be delightfully open to infodumping about the bat thing to the point of tedium, or needlessly spiteful for Literally No Reason aside from a vague sense of pettiness and jealousy. how dare she get to be so damnably happy all the time, how dare she act so damnably carefree about it, etcetera etcetera. whether or not they'd like to admit it, i could see them holding a grudge against emilia purely on the principle of (supposedly) having everything they've ever wanted.

which is to say, they absolutely get scrunched like a cat, and they are biting her + biting her + biting her + biting her + biting her + biting her + biting her + biting her + biting her + biting her + biting her + biting her + biting her + biting her + biting her + b

[god-compussy]

Catharsis thru Luna mlp>>>>

I’m plural & see Luna similarly in a lot of ways. Strive to be better for you<3

[sohemotional]

The original script for the Brittana S4 breakup is so romantic 💔😭

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

I was rewatching The Stone Forest and I really like to think that Hilda had to pass by the Bell Keeper’s outpost on her way out of the city limits. I like to think that idiot looked at what was happening, shrugged, and said ‘eh, she’s the scariest thing out there’

[ecto-stone]

[aheckinmess]

Terms & Conditions [Deku] (Angst)

(One-shot 17/? in a collection of My Hero Academia one-shots posted regularly on Saturdays - and sometimes Sundays.)

Read on AO3.

Tags: Izuku x OC, Midoriya x OC, Deku x OC, Izuku Midoriya, Deku, Original Female Character(s), Ichijiku Aoki, Tigress, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Shouta Aizawa, Eraserhead, Papazawa, Hound Dog, UA High School, Pro Heroes in Training, OC Tends to Self-Sabotage, And Self-Sacrifice, Aizawa Calls Her Out on It, But Also Reminds Her to Take Care of Herself, She a Little Depresso Espresso, But She Gets Counseling from Hound Dog, Deku is a Proper Ray of Sunshine, And Comforts Her Afterwards

Word Count: 2,106 words

Summary: Ichijiku is called into Mr. Aizawa's office after he notices she hasn't been herself. After a brief discussion with him and Hound Dog, Ichijiku talks with Deku about how she's been feeling for the past few weeks.

Ichijiku (Tigress)

“Aoki-san, a word in my office, please.” Mr. Aizawa says. 

“Am I in trouble, sir?” I whisper, looking up at him with a slump in my shoulders.

“No, nothing like that. Just a check in.” He reassures me, remaining quiet until we’re both in the classroom and he’s at the door, gesturing for me to leave.

As I step through the threshold and walk towards his office, I go over the possible reasons he might need to speak to me. Unlike America, homeroom teachers aren’t just there to be an extra teacher. Homeroom teachers in Japan act as your second father, and I’m sure by now Dad is grateful Aizawa is mine. 

Even I can say for myself that I’m an emotional burden for anyone to carry.

We step in and I set my bag down beside the chair opposite his desk as he shuts the door. I wait until he’s standing by his seat before I seat myself. My eyes can’t seem to meet his, though, and I use my hair as a curtain between us. Authority has always terrified me.

“You’re not in any trouble,” He begins by reassuring me again. “But I want to know if there’s anything going on that’s contributed to your unusual behavior lately.”

Anything else he says dies in my ears. My body stiffens, rigid as a board. I grip my uniform skirt over my knees and instantly combat the traitorous tears blurring my vision. That’s why he called me in here? No one’s noticed anything, not even Dad. How would Mr. Aizawa notice?! He’s trained to notice these things, Little One. You’re not in trouble. We can tell him the truth. No. No one ever listens to me, anyway. Why would he? In my ongoing mental combat, I remain stiff and unspeaking.

“Normally, my students often struggle because of their grades in my class. But yours are on par with some of your higher scoring peers. Even in math, your struggle subject, you keep stable and ask for help. So I take it that your trials are not academic in nature, right?” He goes on. I can feel his eyes trained on me.

“I don’t know what kind of unusual behavior you’re talking about.” I force my muscles to loosen as I speak, never looking up. “Can you explain that?”

“Whether or not you realize it, you’re normally a bright and optimistic personality in the classroom. You may be much quieter, but you are typically passionate about things you enjoy and kind to your peers. You often wait for your friends and make sure everyone’s cared for on and off the training fields.” All of the compliments make my sad little heart shudder with hope, even if delivered in my teacher’s monotonous drone. “For the past few months, however, you’ve grown more detached. You don’t make eye contact in class. You keep your head down. You’re often the first to leave even if your friends stay behind.”

Because no one listens to me, so why say anything at all? I think, but I know that in part that’s a lie. I just stare at my feet, loosen the tension in the rest of my muscles, and clear my throat to keep my voice steady.

“You have nothing to worry about, Sensei. I’m perfectly fine.”

“Look up at me, Aoki-san.” He orders, and I can’t stop myself from complying. He may be tired and try to play the apathetic authority figure, but we all know that our teacher is compassionate. “I know that’s a lie.”

My jaw clenches and my lip quivers, and he sees it.

Maybe he can offer some advice. It’s okay to ask for help. Asking for help just proves that I’m weak. Asking for help just proves that you’re human, Little One.

“No one listens to me.” I whisper, barely aware I’ve said it until the rest comes tumbling out. “I’m the quiet kid. Everyone listens to me when it’s convenient for them. Even my closest friends interrupt or only like talking to me whenever I agree with them.” Tears escape and I snap my head down, afraid of the scolding I’ll get for crying. You can talk to him. He is safe. “I’m only wanted when I’m useful or have something to offer. I know Bakugo’s normally aggressive, but he gets even more defensive and asserts more dominance when I have an opinion that’s opposed to his. I know that’s not surprising, but it still hurts. We’ve been good friends for a long time but it feels like when we spend more time hanging out, he expects me to share his thoughts and agree with him about everything. And if I don’t then my voice suddenly doesn’t matter anymore.”

“That is a reasonable concern, Aoki-san. But, I assume there’s more?”

“Stop knowing me!” I huff a little laugh, before wiping my eyes and continuing. “Hanoku and I are best friends, too, but sometimes it feels like she only wants me around for what I can give her…because I’m of use to her. I’m not saying everyone has to agree with me or cater to my whims. I know they have other things to do.” Better things than putting up with me… “But her…even Sayuri will often only listen to me when I have something she contributes worthy to listen to in a conversation. It just feels like everyone I talk to thinks I’m too snobbish because I’m quiet, or I say stuff they don’t like, so they don’t bother listening. I just want them to care about me…because I really care about them.” I shrug.

“You just want to be loved because you’re you, not because of a service you provide.” 

Something suddenly clicks and I look up at Mr. Aizawa, tears and all. 

“Do you feel that way sometimes, Sensei?” My heart squeezes. “Because of your quirk?”

The bad voice doubles down. Other people have problems, too. Mr. Aizawa probably puts up with this on a daily basis and he doesn’t whine about it.

“I do, sometimes.” He nods.

“I’m sorry,” And I mean it. I hide behind my hair again, hearing the seam whine under my fingers as I grip my skirt again. “You have the same feelings and I’m whining about mine. I apologize.”

“You’re allowed to hurt, Aoki-san. Especially when people you care very deeply about don’t always measure up. We may be heroes, but we’re only human.” He reminds me.

“Yeah, but you have other problems to worry about. And so do they. So I feel like talking about my problems makes me selfish,” I whimper and then mutter. “I should be grateful anyone pays attention to me at all.”

“You’re not being selfish for addressing human conditions that need attention.” Mr. Aizawa says this slowly enough that I look up at him, scared to believe such a statement. “I mean it. I’m your homeroom teacher. Any emotional or mental concerns you have are meant to be addressed here. It can be something small or something big. My job is to provide you with the tools to get through it with your head held high.”

“So I’m not,” I pause, tapping my teeth together behind closed lips. “I’m not being mean or ungrateful?” 

“Your concerns about your friends putting conditions on their affection for you is not being mean or ungrateful. It’s a concern. A valid one. You care very deeply about them, yes? And while you may sometimes want things from them, they aren’t demands. You’ll hang around them even if your requests aren’t fulfilled and their opinions are different from yours. You’re allowed to be upset because you feel like they don’t extend the same courtesy to you. You feel like they make demands of you because you think they won’t love you as much if you don’t do anything for them. Regardless of if it’s true, it hurts because you care about those people.” 

“Yeah, but…” I sniffle and pick at the fabric of my skirt. “I shouldn’t feel that way. I shouldn’t feel like I deserve anything more.”

“Why not?” 

“Because I’m just…” I shrug my shoulders. “Me.”

“And that is exactly why you deserve more than what you think.”

. . . . .

Mr. Aizawa leads me to Hound Dog for extra help on learning to work through my emotions and give them space. By the time I walk out, I’m feeling a good deal better than when I stepped in. I feel less like my friends secretly hate me and more confident that they still love me without conditions.

“Honeydoodle!” Deku’s voice breaks into my menagerie of thoughts as I give my thanks to my teachers. He gives a bow to Mr. Aizawa and Hound Dog as they leave, but his focus stays on me. “I was wondering where you went. Are you okay?” 

“Me? Yeah, I’m okay. Mr. Aizawa was checking on me and decided I could use a little help from Hound Dog.”

“Are you feeling well?”

“Just a little sad, but I’m feeling better now after talking about it.” I reassure him, pulling him into a hug.

“Aww, do you need a–oh, yeah that!” He laughs for a moment before giving me a good squeeze. When we pull back, he holds my hand and we start heading out. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I want to be honest and talk with you about it.” I pause, chewing my lip as I weigh the consequences of being vulnerable with him. “I don’t know if I can tell you without making you sad or mad at me.”

“You can trust me, Ichan. If it becomes more than I can handle, we’ll take some time to think before we come back to it.” He assures me with a smile. “So, what’s wrong?”

The brisk wind of autumn answers him before I do, whipping his green hair around his face and haloing him like an angel as I think about how to explain what I’ve been feeling for the past several weeks.

“Lately, it feels like everyone only keeps me around because of what I can give them, not because I’m their friend.” I begin, swinging our arms as we walk off campus and down the street. “I talked with Hound Dog about it. Mr. Aizawa ratted me out and told him that I have a habit of self-sacrificing instead of taking care of myself.”

“Hehe, he’s said that about me, too.” Deku rubs the back of his neck with a nervous chuckle. “But at least that’s something we can both help each other with.”

“Yeah. We basically figured out that I’ve been feeling overwhelmed because I overexert myself for others. I expect the same from them but I don’t tell them when I need it, so…” I try to remember how Hound Dog put it, but decide on an analogy when I can’t find the right words. “He said I’ve been offering all of myself to everyone…pouring all of the water from my cup into others and hoping others will offer the same to help replenish me.”

“And,” He playfully pinches my cheek to make me look at him. “You feel like we don’t?” 

“Sometimes. But we spoke today about how I don’t get filled because I put my needs secondary. I don’t tell anyone I need help, which is why I’m trying to do better and talk to you.” I admit, glancing at him for a moment before taking a deep breath and looking at my toes instead of the approaching train station. “Because even though I’ve been acting like I’ve been fine for so long…the truth is, I’m really hurting most of the time. I get tired, same as everyone else. But I don’t want any of you to be upset, so I pretend I’m not bothered.”

Deku abruptly pulls me against his chest the second we find a spot to stand on the train. My heart stops, but I allow myself to melt against the firm warmth of his chest. I begin dozing against his shoulder before he speaks.

“You’re one of the strongest people I know, Ichijuku.” He whispers. “I’m sorry that we often take that for granted, and I can’t speak for everyone, but know that I don’t just keep you around because of what you can give me. I want you by my side because you’re one of the kindest, gentlest souls I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing and calling mine.”

The dull ache in my chest smooths out into an affectionate glow, pulling tears down my cheeks as the endless activity of my mind finally quiets.

Want More Deku? Try: Below Ground Zero - Rhythm & Blues