#I’ve been struggling with self image and weight recently and this is making my day turn awful I just couldn’t stop eating

[leverage-ot3]

so I don’t always post super personal things on here since I’m supposed to be Leverage Blog™, but I just accidentally ate like half of those chips ahoy cookie party things and feel super bad about it so if anyone could say something nice or something I’d really appreciate it I feel like shit rn

#I’ve been struggling with self image and weight recently and this is making my day turn awful I just couldn’t stop eating #happy monday I guess #sorry to be a downer I’m just really upset rn and I don’t know who to talk to about it lol #wow I feel like shit #also it’s a flood watch and I have to drive home which is terrific #sorry about this guys lmao #delete later #not leverage #about me #mine #jackie talks

[findingmyselffit]

Hello 👋 I’m new here!

I recently gained a bunch of weight. I struggled my whole life with my body image, self confidence and my weight. Now I’m at an all time high for myself and to say I’m disappointed is an understatement.

There’s not much I can do now besides work towards a healthier lifestyle. I thought I was doing that a while ago but it all boils down to the fact that my nutrition is not in check. I’ve been working out and strength training 5 days a week, but not monitoring what’s going on in the kitchen.

Now I am trying to do OMAD and get comfortable with the feeling of hunger again. I was “intuitively eating” but ultimately my body was telling me to over eat and I cannot trust that my intuition is going to give me the deficient I want to be in.

Ultimately I am at a point where I want to lose 100 pounds. No time limit. I just want to feel like me again. I want to be able to move and not be out of breath. I want to be able to run a 5k or 10k again and be confident doing it.

I’ll be using this platform as a personal journal and a tool for motivation. I’ve lost large amounts of weight in the past and know I can do it again. This time I want to make it sustainable and something that works with my busy schedule.

#weight loss #fitness #losing weight #workout inspiration #healthyeating

[adivebelow]

my body

Everyday, I look at myself in the mirror–everyday, my self image changes. Too fat, too skinny, too boxy, too long, too flat–too imperfect. I’ve only ever been focused on how I looked, not how I felt. I hurt my own feelings with my own opinions and judgment.

This morning, I looked in the mirror as I changed my clothes. Why do I look so fat? I haven’t even eaten anything I thought to myself. It was like this almost everyday, except for the days when I was too tired to care about anything. I continued on with my day like normal, riding the bus to school and making my way to my classes. I liked riding the bus, I got to talk to my close friends–they made me feel okay; they helped me forget about my struggles.

I always go to breakfast at school, solely to see my friends, but I usually don’t eat. Not recently, at least. Even though I regret it later into my day, it’s no big deal. Water fills me up enough. As long as I just drink some water, I’ll be fine. I don’t want to gain any more weight. Regardless of what people tell me, I still think I’m fat. I can deal with a couple of hunger pains, it’s not like it’ll kill me.

Halfway through 5th period, the pains started to feel unbearable, but I still had 2 periods until lunch. I didn’t want to eat, but I felt like I had to at that point. I wasn’t as strong as I thought I was.

Once I got to lunch, I sat down and talked to my boyfriend. I love my boyfriend. He makes me feel like it’ll be okay. He tries to make sure that I eat, but I don’t always tell him the truth. I wish I could, but I don’t want to disappoint him–so why don’t you just eat? Well, I don’t want to disappoint myself either. However, I did end up disappointing myself. For lunch, I had a lot. Guiltily, I ate, and I’ll admit it felt good, but I knew it wasn’t going to help me look at myself differently. If anything, it was probably going to make me judge myself even more later that day. 

When I got home, after a day full of socialization and laughs and happiness, it all started to hit me again. The dark feeling of self-hatred and critique. I lifted my shirt as I stared at my reflection, nitpicking every part of myself. I pulled at the more fatty parts of my stomach, I hated it. I traced the outline of my body, even though I had a couple of curves, it meant nothing compared to all of the things I didn’t have. I looked at my chest, wishing it would grow. I picked and pulled at my thighs, they were so oddly shaped. I stared at the gap between them, wishing it would just close–I always felt like it made me look awkward no matter how I stood. I turned to the side, analyzing how my figure looked from that angle. I looked wide and disproportionate. My rib cage looked like it was too big for the rest of my body, and I looked bloated. I hated my body so much, every part of it. No matter how much I tried to appreciate it, I found myself wishing to look like other people.

I haven’t had any kind of ‘liking’ for my body since I was 8 years old. When I was 8, I attended a day camp for most of the summer. I was almost always in a swimsuit–everyday, if it wasn’t raining, we went to the pool at least twice. One day while I was waiting for my parents to pick me up, I was on the swings next to a boy named Paul. I was still in my swimsuit because the last thing my group had done that day was go to the pool. Paul looked over at me, 

“Please don’t wear that again,” he said.

“Why not?” I questioned him, I saw nothing wrong with my swimsuit; it was a 2 piece–the top was pink, purple, and blue, tye dye while the bottoms were just purple.

“Your belly is out.” he pointed.

“Yeah, what about it?” he continued to perplex me.

“It’s big.” he explained.

I looked down at my stomach, my lip beginning to quiver as hot tears filled my eyes. When I got home, I buried my face in my pillow and sobbed. My dad asked me what was wrong, but I never told him; I just kept crying.

I never saw myself the same after that. As I got older, the kids I was surrounded by only got meaner.

When I was in 6th grade, I had a crush on a boy named Nathan. He was your classic, blue-eyed, blondie. Many girls had a crush on him, he was funny. I was a lot skinnier than I was when I was 8, and I saw that as progress. However, Nathan had set me back a while.

“You’re so short!” I teased, playfully joking around with him.

“Shut up, you’re flat!” he exclaimed–he wasn’t joking around with me anymore, he was serious. I went silent after that, but he didn’t take it into account. As the day progressed, I looked around the room, analyzing the other girls in my class–more specifically, the ones Nathan would talk to. I noticed that they all had bigger chests than I did. After that day, I gained a new insecurity.

Nathan moved away after Christmas break that year, but it didn’t get any easier after he left.

Shortly after he had moved away, a new boy joined our class. I didn’t have a crush on him, but he spoke similarly to the way Nathan did. His name was Jonothan. Not even a month after he had joined our class, he was constantly annoying me. Occasionally, he would say things about my body and how I was flat. Even though I didn’t say anything to him about it, it deeply affected me. Eventually, I ended up writing about it for a project–then I had to talk to the principal about what was going on. I’m unsure of the discipline he was given, or if he was given any at all, but he never said anything to me about it.

. . .

Years later, I still don’t completely love my body. It’s a work in progress, I guess you could say. I try not to be so judgmental towards myself, but there’s moments when I can’t control it. Regardless, I’m on a journey, trying to learn how to love myself. Some days it’s merely impossible, but some days I feel okay with embracing myself and my body. I know it will get easier for me eventually, it just takes time.

**To anyone who is experiencing an eating disorder, body dysmorphia, struggles with self esteem, confidence, or self image, I encourage you to reach out to someone for help. Your body is a temple, please care for it properly. You are worth more than you think–you withhold more beauty than you could ever know. Please, take care of yourself; that goes for everyone. No matter where you are on your journey and how hard it may get, just keep your head held high and remind yourself of your end goal. I love you.**

#self worth #growth #mental health #art #new blog #thoughts #beautiful body #beauty #self love #love yourself #writing #creative writing #personal post #meh

[harrybushelldesignblog]

Week 11 DES302 Capstone Blog

T-minus 15 days until the majority of my capstone work is due. While this is a horrifically frightening prospect, it will also be a monumental weight off of my shoulders. This assignment's requirement for personal self-motivation and work effort has been very close to the definition of stress (“a state of mental or emotional strain or tension resulting from adverse or demanding circumstances.”). With this, I’m both excited and frightened for the next 2 and a bit weeks to pass. Week 11 involved many hours being put into work that has not always produced the best results. I’ll get into this more in the action section of this reflection. Outside of university, week 11 has been pretty action-packed! World Cup preparation is well and truly in full swing, as we trained twice this week and played a fairly frustrating game on Thursday night in horrific wind and rain. Along with this, I took part in interfaculty hockey on Saturday, which was extremely good fun, I haven’t played hockey for over 5 months now, and I’ve missed the sport a lot, so getting back on the turf for a fun and sociable event was like free therapy. However, my glutes and back are paying the price for not playing for so long! This, however, did mean that Saturday was a write-off, and no work was achieved on a day I originally planned to spend working through my casebook. In all honesty, I’m completely fine with catching up on the hours missed because that hockey tournament was so needed - a mental break swapped with physical work.

Week 11 focused mostly on the Plan for Impact phase of the Design for Conservation (D4C) methodology. This means that my project has majoritively shifted out of the prototyping work from the Propose and Validate phase and moved into the phase more focused on polishing and promoting my work. With this, a lot of what I planned for week 11 focused on making things look nice, completing planning templates, and working on my other deliverables - the visual summary, my casebook, and my video. 

In terms of how I achieved these goals, I printed and tested my final 3D model, began to build my video off of the structure created in week 10, completed all of the remaining Plan for Impact D4C templates, created mapped mock-up map images highlighting available areas for impact, researched into two local pitches and documented how they could be improved both performance wise and sustainability wise, and finalised my organic prototype by packaging and photographing the finished prototypes. After printing and testing 3D model 6, the slightly deeper shelf in the shell allows the spiral piece to fit flush and spin with less resistance. Along with this, the resized thread on top of the stud fits perfectly with a pair of football boots and holds enough tension to be screwed in and out of the boot. Unfortunately, the spiral piece for Model 6 broke due to a printing error, so the spiral from Model 5 was used for testing. A new spiral piece will be printed soon to complete model 6. Luckily, the spiral piece is relatively unchanged for model 6, and the main innovation for this model was the thread, which worked as intended. Constructing the video mostly focused on collecting, cutting, and organizing footage shot by myself and from stock footage. For this, I’m using DaVinci Resolve, as I feel comfortable and confident using it, and have DaVinci experience through the workforce as well as previous classes. The only issues I have with DaVinci come from its struggle with multiple media pieces on one timeline, as it often lags when displaying the video, leading to uncertainty with some cuts and edits. The map mock-up images were created to display the statistic “Auckland Council indicates that in 2016/17, green space accounted for 47% of the urban area”. This was the most recent statistic I could find for Auckland's urban green space percentage and also provided a great sample size for areas of impact for my project. The local pitches I looked into were Madills Farm and Taharoto Park, as they are the two pitches I’ve spent the most time at in Auckland and the two I have the best understanding of in terms of how they are run, etc. Finalising my organic models was extremely rewarding personally, as I was able to see my prototype in a finished and polished form, creating something that I wanted to share and am very proud of.

The learnings from Week 11 are predominantly around the importance of taking a break. This was the first weekend I’ve not had football all day Saturday since February. With this, I planned to work on my project all of Saturday, but luckily, hockey came along and filled the day. Although it meant another Saturday not spent on my capstone, I realised that I really need sport on Saturdays. Although they don’t offer a stereotypical break, they do offer time away from this project and a very welcomed mental distraction. Plus, the benefits of physical activity. I’ve learnt that these distractions are so important for my own wellbeing, and while my legs are absolutely knackered today, my cup is full, and I’ve got the mental energy to keep going for a few more weeks.

Here are some of the hero shots I took this week, as well as the map graphic!!

  

#Heroshots #studs #map #urbanspace #greenspace #aucklandgreenspace #mapgraphic #mapmockup #week11

[lets-talk-spirituality]

Need some advice if you’re feeling up to it. I overheard my friends commenting on my appearance, while they were well aware that I have been trying to lose weight and it made me so sad. I wouldn’t have minded if they had just been curious and asked me questions about it if it was that pressing to them, but what they don’t know is that I have a medical condition that makes it very difficult to metabolize and I’ve been doing my best. Just hurt my soul to hear the comments come from people I cared about. What do I do?

I think if you value these friends and truly believe they value you, you should talk to them. Maybe write it out if you need to send it as a letter. I know I’m better in written words sometimes.

Expressing your hurt to them can be vulnerable but also they don’t know you are hurt if you don’t tell them. Also not telling them prevents them the opportunity to learn from the experience. Maybe you expressing your pain at their words teaches them a lesson and helps them become more empathetic.

I think it’s important to examine your own pain. I’ve struggled with my body and weight my whole life. So I really do understand what you’re struggling with. My struggle with weight was tied to mental health issues, hormones and a lot of trauma I went through. I imagine it feels really out of your control with your condition and that it probably makes you feel defeated and frustrated that your body won’t just do what you want. I think you should examine what that pain is telling you. Is it part of a bigger wound? For me, my body image is tied to my feelings of not being good enough to be loved. So when I have thoughts about my weight I know it comes from the real wound. Identifying the underlying wound can help you be nicer to yourself. I’m much less horrible to my body now because I’m like it’s not my body that makes me unlovable. It’s not my body that makes me not good enough because I already am. It’s not easy to fight your mind but it does get easier when you stop blaming your body for other wounds.

I think too, examining how you care for yourself. Like for me, I did struggle with exercising unhealthily because it helped with my mental so much (I used to workout twice a day for hours even injured. Not great.) but I always felt better about my body when working out. Exercise is not about aesthetics for me, it’s much more about connecting to your body, and challenging your physical abilities. It can feel really good when you notice exercises becoming easier or you’re better at something. Like I did this hike months ago, before I did Pilates, and I was dying. Recently, it was a lot easier and that was awesome to feel and see that progress! To feel my body being stronger. Maybe you can try to use exercise this way too, because honestly it’s helped me with my relationship with my body so much. I see us more as a team and less as this rejected part of me that I abuse. I feel more connected and grounded in my body than I ever have.

I feel the same about eating. I think eating well is important but also eating what you want matters too. I hope you aren’t going to any extremes to try to fit an ideal. I fought my body for years trying to be an ideal and it was brutal. I think trying to connect with your body as it is is so critical. Learning how to talk and listen to it again. So now I try to eat more intuitively, based on what sounds good and what my body wants. I also eat a lot less eating intuitively and I’m actually at the lowest weight I’ve ever been and maintaining it. And I don’t eat the best always. I eat out a lot.

I think sometimes our bodies carry extra weight because it’s protecting itself from our own self critique. So I think healing that can help your body release weight. And idk about your condition but I did have PCOS and I was able to heal a lot of the issues from that disease by losing weight (something that’s really hard to do with that condition). So maybe this isn’t a condition you’ll always have. Maybe this condition is giving you this chance to work on your relationship with your body.

Also I’m not trying to suggest at all that you should be losing weight or trying to. I’m just sharing about my journey with my weight and body. I don’t think you should feel like you need to lose weight to be accepted. I’m just suggesting and sharing what helped me become healthier in my relationship with my body.

I’m really sorry your friends hurt you that way. And maybe it was coming from true concern. My sister recently has been gaining a lot of weight because of hormonal and mental health issues and we talk about it because I care. I didn’t know that’s why she was gaining weight. I don’t know what they said, but sometimes people do say painful things but their intentions aren’t necessarily to hurt you.

I really hope any of this helps you. I love you and I’m sending you some of the cocky energy I’ve recently been feeling deeply. You’re a goddess and emperor and a powerful badass human. It’s crazy what your body can do. Finding gratitude for what you body does accomplish can be so helpful as well. We’re all sending you good vibes ✨💕

#ask box #about mod #life advice #advice

[notnatawree]

december 8, 2020 archive - a school project

the beauty in the nonlinearity of body image

lately, and more often than not, i find myself returning to certain things that have seemingly got lost in time. for one, it’s writing. it has always been this internal therapy-like mechanism where i can disregard all conventions and put my mind on paper. i can’t do this when i speak, although it is one of my many goals, that i fear may be unachievable. to me, body empowerment manifests itself into my deepest and darkest demon: my crippling, and paralyzing low self-esteem. and some days are better than others, hence the nonlinearity of it all, but the overarching theme of my life is that i do not believe in my worth and potential, and that i will ultimately lead a meaningless life in which i accomplish little to nothing, barely make a livable wage, and repeat the cycle in which i learned about living in. it’s my greatest fear, and one that i directly tie to my body. when you are eleven years old, two years into the beautiful process called menstruation, and have never had romantic feelings to an actual living being -- the world seems to mend an easily malleable child into what they are going to become for the rest of their life. i, a naive kid could not see this. i was blinded by the feeling that “this is temporary,” and i continued this thought process into my adult life. but when you are starting to form thoughts about the world at the hands of parents who call you a worthless bitch, a father who unleashes his aggressions on you through a belt, and a divorce that crippled your mother to complete insanity-- you can only imagine how those children will end up. and i’ve been praised for things. being the first person in my family to attend college. for being “pretty” and losing weight when it got too bad. or for acting as everyone’s free therapist because they are too scared to admit they have mental issues that need attention. yeah, i’m fucked up. 

i see the tiktoks, of midsize bodies. i love ms. lizzo and advocating for “unconventionally” beautiful bodies. i’m with the movement that everyone is beautiful regardless of societal conventions, but when i wake up extra early to workout i’m not thinking of my health or preventing heart disease, i’m thinking of how good i will look in a new outfit once i shed some pounds. i’m thinking about the possibilities that will suddenly unlock once i am able just lose weight. will i fall in love for the first time? will i be confident enough to speak and feel my words are valid? will i go for opportunities because i will know in my back pocket that i am good enough because i look good enough? when i write it out i wonder what possesses me to even think that way. and when i catch myself feeling guilty for eating a little too much pizza, i try to suppress the thoughts. i should be able to eat some fucking pizza and not feel sick to my stomach after, and not because of the dairy. these things aren’t normal, and it sickens me. 

to go more on brand for the prompt, and less on my tangent, i find that body empowerment comes to me when i start addressing the elephant in the room. i was with my brother, his girlfriend, and my mom. my brother, who i love, causes me to have flashbacks of our childhood. he struggled with weight as well, our family’s epitome of how we define body empowerment, but now has eating disorders that fly under the radar due to the lack of education in my family. eating once a day, stepping on the scale every thirty minutes, and centering every discussion on how much weight he still needs to lose. my mother’s initial reaction to seeing his girlfriend, who recently lost twenty pounds, was “oh my gosh! where did the rest of you go??? i’m so proud of you.” my heart sank. i, as the designated family member who “changed when they got to college,” told my mother it’s not acceptable to comment on someone’s weight regardless of the intention. i’ve heard it from her the most over the years, but here i just couldn’t hold my tongue. she said “it’s a compliment, it’s nothing bad,” but i say, no, and of course explain in great detail why it’s unacceptable. after his girlfriend left, i told my mom that she said she lost the weight because she was working out twice a day and only eating once, and my mom was horrified. “i didn’t know.” she muttered, precisely, you didn’t know, so you shouldn’t speak on it. 

i’m not gonna lie and bullshit like i’ve made some progress over the semester in terms of my body empowerment, but i’d say taking this course made me a little more comfortable speaking. i’ve been the kid who sits passively in the back and waits for someone else to jump in because i’m so terrified i’ll say something embarrassing. the people in this class create a safe environment, which makes even saying things out of your comfort zone feel worthy. i want to start my body empowerment with feeling like there’s validity to the things i say. and that what i say matters regardless of my physical appearance. and even when i’m in an environment that i wouldn’t consider a safe space like this class, i still want to feel confident in putting myself out there. i don’t know how long that will take, and there might be good some days and bad others. i really don’t fucking know how i will overcome that, but i want to manifest being able to. i hope that starting small, like choosing to write this and keep it in my archive forever is a good step into the lifelong journey of body empowerment. because my body isn’t just my literal body, it’s my mind and all i can create with it. our society tends to separate the two, and that sickens me. our “body” is taught through the lens of how we are perceived by the world, but i think that’s precisely the problem. 

[swordheld]

how do you deal with insecurity? i cannot stand the sight of myself in the mirror every day. sometimes it has my blood boiling that i have to live in this kind of body. i feel inferior to other individuals who are far more talented and attractive than i am. it just hurts every day to live like this. sorry for the vent :(

hi, darling. this is a little long, so before we begin, please know that i am mentally covering you with a soft blanket, and gifting you a warm cup of tea.

image is a very difficult thing. being comfortable with your body and how you are perceived is a very difficult thing. i struggle with insecurity daily, whether that is within image, academic, self-doubt, or otherwise. knowing that you are not alone, and that it is an innate human experience to compare ourselves, is a very important starting place, in my mind. it’s something universal, but it is not something that lasts forever.

for me specifically, it's been years and years of a long journey consisting of actively working on ways to improve my own view of myself; and even then it's only been in recent years that i’ve developed an inner questioning of gender, performance, and who i am when no one else is around (finding out who you are to you). it’s all been accumulative, it’s all been a collecting of who am i today, and the generous mystery of who i will be tomorrow.

remembering that i have a choice in who that person is, that my choices today influence the results tomorrow, next month, years from now, has been an enlightening perspective to hold onto through that process.

keep in mind: there are many aspects that come with image that we cannot control (weight, skin, hair, ways of experiencing/mental processing, etc.), they are given by our genetics, and are predispositions that are out of our hands from the beginning. knowing this: just because you have something that may be different from the conditioned norm of societal expectation does not mean that they are bad, or that you are, by extension.

give yourself space for kindness is above all, my most important advice. remember that you are the universe experiencing itself, and it is a hard thing to be human. remember in your best and worst moments that you are doing your best (always relative, best for today, best for now, this is a constantly shifting thing) and that’s okay. go easy on yourself. you can always try again.

here is the cheesiest and yet most constant piece of advice i have kept: if you want to change, make sure that you are changing for yourself. sit down with whatever medium you prefer, and think: what do you want to feel like? what things would you like to try that might improve your health, your mental wellbeing, your outlook on existing, and not just solely your perceived body/self?  

it's all too easy to let yourself slip into things that feel like quick-fixes: eating disorders, fad diets, working yourself to the bone (both mind and body can be targets for this). but many of them can be harmful in the long term. the thing that has worked for me the most has been a slow, ongoing process of rewriting the way that i instinctively interact and think about things, and it has results that are not so easily undone like the quick-fixes might have. 

one of them is something very lovely that has helped me a lot in finding a way out of feeling inferior to your peers: flip the feeling on its head. make the negative association into something positive. for ex.: someone you know is incredibly good at something that you’re not? that’s amazing for them! they probably put a lot of work and time and effort into it; so ask them about, learn about it, meet them on a level where both of you can meet in the middle and grow from there. people love talking about the things they love, and you’ve already learned more than you knew before, just by speaking to them. you might even make friends this way as well!

surrounding yourself with a support system has been one of the most beneficial solutions for me. having people who remind you of different ways of viewing, the kind that bring you back to your perspective of healing, who lift you up and help you come back to yourself. they’re the most wonderful of friends, thank them, and help them back whenever you can. they’re the very best.

ways of distracting your mind from giving into those whirlpools of negative thought are also wonderful ideas. hobbies, taking walks, talking with friends, going on errands; anything that gets you out of your normal environment and encourages your mind to focus on other things. i love finding small little things that do make me happy; like walking and hearing birdsong, being happy that i am able to hear and can experience my life in that way. or finding a small freckle on my skin that bloomed in the sun, and how cool the body is as a piece of being. just find one piece, and more and more will show themselves to you.

overall, remember that this is not an easy thing, and i am sorry about that part of it. it is something you have to work on every day, and healing is not a linear process. there will be bad days, and i encourage you to prepare for them, instead of going on the hope that they do not happen. it’s the way of things, how there is always an equilibrium, the expanse of emotions we get to feel and put in perspective amongst everything else.

remembering that it will not be like this forever is also a small piece of knowledge / hope that you can keep with you. one day you will be able to look back and see just how far you’ve come, the progress you’ve made, the curve of your joy and contentment and comfort reaching beyond anything graphable. it is not an impossible thing, and it is already there within you, right now.

i wish you all the best, and i am sending you all my love.  💌

#birdsong. #q&a. #happiness will find you. light will find its way to you. nothing is impossible / and everything is waiting for you. #hold onto hope like it makes you / and it will. #you got this love. 💕

[thefanficmonster]

Filterless

Corpse Husband x Plus-sized Reader (Female)

Warnings: Body Image Insecurities, Low self-esteem, Swearing

Genre:  Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Feeling comfortable in her skin has hardly ever been the case for Y/N who’s been struggling with body image issues all her life. However, they only get worse when she sees the ‘type’ of girls her crush is into.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your request (hits close to home 😅) I’m so sorry it has taken me so long to fulfill it and post it but here it finally is and if you’ve stuck around long enough to read it, I hope you enjoy! ALSO! - Never forget how beautiful and amazing you are. Never compare your beauty to someone else’s. We’re all beautiful people and we all shine so brightly and uniquely. No one deserves to be compared to anyone when we’re all so different yet so incredible. Love you and appreciate you with all my heart, Vy ❤

If I ever need my ego taken down a few notches - it never does, it’s barely even present, to be honest - all I have to do is go on Instagram. To be honest, regardless of how I’m feeling, opening that app is bound to make my mood plummet and come crashing into the ground so hard it drives a hole in it - probably in the form of a broken heart.

Being a content creator myself, I often get asked questions about my absence on that social platform specifically. I mean, the questions are based and rational I guess, considering I’m not a faceless YouTuber and yet my Instagram account is void of any photos. It’s not like I don’t post at all - I do! I post on my story often but it’s more often than not scenery I find pretty or a poster I’ve made for a movie/video game. Bottom line is: I barely ever allow a picture of me to make it online. The most my fans are ever gonna get of me is a selfie which is also a super rare occurrence because of how long it takes me to take and choose one I don’t hate.

Ok, but how am I supposed to find the motivation to post any sort of picture of myself when on my timeline I’m always faced with people worthy of posting pictures of themselves. People with such perfect bodies and beautiful faces. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not jealous or envious of those people - good for them! They know what they’re working with and they’re working it well. I have nothing against them, in fact, I love seeing people proud of their bodies no matter their size, shape or weight. Those are my role-models: people who are proud of themselves, their bodies, their attributes and capabilities and don’t hesitate to show them off. Those are the people I look up to but, deep down inside I know I’ll never be like.

Insecure about my body, having been referred to as ‘chubby’ and ‘squishy’ all my life. Inappreciative of the stuff I do: starting from my job as a graphic designer leading towards my job on YouTube - nothing I do, professionally or otherwise, satisfies me. Nothing I do is enough in my eyes because I feel incapable of ever being able to do enough. I’ve been called lazy and a half-asser a few too many times to be able to brush it off as a meaningless insult. 

With these problems I’ve had with myself and my own perception of who I am and the work I do, I’ve never had the time for romance or romantic relationships. I second-guess the intentions of everyone who ever shows any interest in me because in my mind I’m nothing special and I have nothing to offer - nothing attractive or likable at least. That being said, I haven’t even been one to make heart eyes at others either. I busy myself with my job and some side-gigs, brushing off any relationship questions with the excuse that I’m ‘just too busy to be in a relationship’ which is technically true.

Having spent twenty plus years with that mindset, one can imagine how surprised I was when I found myself catching feelings for someone. And that someone just couldn’t be any other than the biggest YouTube sensation at the moment - Corpse Husband.

I’m close friends with Poki - her and I were roommates at one point too - so her inviting me to play Among Us with them wasn’t so strange. One or two games, I thought, nothing unusual there, just friendly curtesy. I wasn’t expecting to warm up to the group of famous streamers nor did I expect them to welcome me among them so easily, mostly because my channel is so small and practically invisible to the YouTube algorithm. But soon enough, I became a permanent member of the team, making friends with every single one of those YouTubers I practically thought of a celebrities.

This journey of branching out to other content creators has proven itself to be surprisingly pleasant and has packed my book of friendships to the brim. All of that came unexpectedly, along with a wave of new subs and a higher view count. However, as I mentioned, it hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows. I came to finally understand what my high school friends were talking about when they were head over heels for a boy - the butterflies in the stomach whenever he speaks your name; the importance of the laugh you share with him, how special and different it is; how cool it is to be impostors with him - ok they never said that, obviously, but it’s what I have as a substitute to the ‘when the two of you make eye-contact’ bullshit since Corpse and I have never seen each other in person. That is, of course, because of him being a faceless YouTuber and me being a self-conscious and insecure girl.

We do talk all the time though - texting, calling, chilling on Discord, you name it. Our conversations range from deeply philosophical to ones that might mislead someone into thinking we’re high. There’s no topic we haven’t touched upon and yet we still manage to find something new to talk about. We have plenty of similarities but we also never seem to run out of differences we slowly come across as we keep getting to know each other better and better. 

And somewhere along that journey I ended up catching feelings.

Human nature of wanting to connect with other people, I curse you for what you’ve done to me.

You might think I’m being overdramatic about the whole ordeal and that this is just a normal, natural occurrence many people experience in their life - some even daily. Well, not only am I far from used to it, but it’s also taking a toll of a different kind on me.

It’s like a constant slap to the face. 

That slap turned into a punch when Corpse and I started following each other on Instagram and I started getting daily reminders of how out of my depth I am with this crush on him. In over my head, especially when you look at all those girls whose pics and videos he reposts on his story. Imagine how that makes me feel, what that does to me - puts me back into the ‘Constantly not good enough‘ basket, the one I’ve been fighting to get out of all my life. In the past and in different contexts I could easily say that it was all just my mind hating me intensely but now - now that I know for a fact I’m not good enough and don’t fit Corpse’s criteria - it hurts ten times as much. I’m not one to do shit for someone’s attention or to attract someone’s eyes, but it really hurts my feelings. Often times, it also leads me to doing dumb things and making rash decisions. 

Like the one I made two days ago.

Imagine me cringing and shaking my head at my own stupidity as I admit this: I, in a frenzy, ordered a whole e-girl getup with overnight delivery. 

Wait, hold up, it gets worse. 

I received it yesterday and spent the whole day regretting that decision, but then, in my most insecure hours - which was somewhere around midnight - I equipped the get-up, took a picture and posted it on my Instagram page. First full body pic I’ve ever posted on there. First pic I’ve posted there of any kind. There to stay, not to be gone in twenty four hours. First pic, and it’s not even of me. It’s of who I want to be in order to fit someone’s criteria. And that fucking stings.

As you might imagine, I’ve spent today’s day regretting that decision as well. Recently my mood’s been nothing but regretting rash decisions that have surfaced under the influence of my ridiculous, constantly-present insecurities. And I would’ve probably gotten over it rather quickly had I not received a message from Corpse that read:

“Didn’t think of you with an e-girl aesthetic“

I didn’t open the message, I peeped at it as it was a notification on my lock screen. It’s still there, an unread notification. It’s been two hours since I received it and I cannot think of a single thing to say in response to that. 

Truth is, I’m afraid. I’m afraid of so many things right now.

I’m afraid of becoming that girl in the photo, cause I’m most definitely not her.

I’m afraid of letting Corpse down by admitting I’m not her.

I’m afraid of what my own mind has made me do because it hates me so much and I’m terrified of what it might do in the future.

I’m afraid and stranded on things to do.

You can’t be her forever, you know. Being her won’t make your insecurities go away, it’ll only make them worse. Haven’t you learned that by now?

I sigh, frustrated and irritated with myself as I grab my phone and tap on the notification, finally deciding to face the music and allow my instincts to carry me through the interaction. Improvisation, that’s one of the few things I’m good at. Let’s hope it doesn’t fail me.

I’m just about to type out my response - not sure what it’s gonna say - when I give the message Corpse has sent me a second glance.  I furrow my brows, finding there’s more to it than that peep through the notification let me see.

“Didn’t think of you with an e-girl aesthetic. You’re personality is so bright and colorful, I could’ve never imagined you were into the darks and blacks“

Because I’m not

I fail to realize until the message has been sent that my thoughts are exactly what I typed out and sent.

And honestly, I’m glad. It feels like I’ve spoken my truth, like I’ve lifted a huge boulder off my chest.

With that rare confidence in mind I go on and delete the picture.

In its spot, I post a picture I just now took - a mirror selfie in my homey get-up consisting of hot pink sweatpants and an oversized blue tee, my hair in a messy bun, my face free of make-up.

I caption it: ‘Oops, had the e-girl filter on for the last one. This is filterless me tho so...Hi 🥴’

A lot better, I’m surprised to hear my inner voice say. I hope I don’t get used to all this kindness on my brain’s part, probably won’t last, but damn if I don’t milk every second of it.

Just then, I receive a new message from non other than Corpse.

“Now that’s the girl I see when I think of you. She’s super cute 😉“

My, oh my, who would’ve guessed Corpse has a game like that - and by that I mean the ability to make me blush so intensely with only a text message.

Now ain’t that better than being someone else, Y/N?

It sure is, it sure is.

@maat-the-prescriptive  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @itsminniekat  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat  @idontknowwhatthisisfam  @evi-ka  @classyandfabulous00  @redperson58  @lilysdaydreams @solowheein  @mythicalamphitrite  @axen-gers  @luckygirl144  @nj01  @buddyemily   @the-albino-lioness  @stardream14  @gdhdkfnn  @nomadicgypsyy  @preciousskye  @fluffysuicideunicornsworld  @o-kaelin  @manacharlotte  @awkward-youtube-trash  @lolalee24  @bonky-beerns  @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian  @strawbrinkofdeath  @teenloves  @tams0527  @browneyespinkhair  @starstruckllamapuppy  @daisychains012  @y0ulooked  @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life  @jula-pauline  @melodykitty  @just-that-bi-girl  @crazybutconfidentaf  @lowellshade @alphakees  @bellero  @weallneednamjesus  @starryhanji  @boiled-onionrings  @husherstan  @fockingwhore  @melaningoddessthings  @prettypastelpetals  @haleypearce  @godwhyamiawkward  @y-napotat  @daisychainyoonmin  @little-miss-rebel3  @free-wheelin-bi-sexual  @redmoon261 @darkacademic2  @wiseflamingoqueen  @into-the-end  @namikhai-i  @nastiablr  @thelittleplantlover  @mirktuan  @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny  @vintagegothlover  @easygoingtheatre  @itsrandombooklover  @miiaivi  @emmybaybee  @befourgolden  @jjk-is-my-shit  @eternalteaaars  @spacebadgerx  @princesslunalight  @acequinn14  @samm48  @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa  @fo-love  @marishimomura-blog  @therealglenncoco  @cinnamonbun332  @killtherandomness  @sanshinexxxsan  @fee-btheweeb  @press-lay  @cathleenpotgieter16  @jazzydoesstuff  @moonlxghtbay  @forestrain2000  @hyunjinhugs  @blood-of-fandoms  @lovellylies  @ukiyolixx  @simpforhpcharacters  @chrisdylan17  @parkerjisung  @pedernille  @theodonyous  @wineandionysus  @malfoystilinskii05  @morbid-x  @coryisagee  @jessewa26  @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365  @raeanneinwonderland  @indecisive-empanada  @gluttonypalace  @loriane2503  @btsiguess-kpop  @khaoticbunny  @lucidlycactus  @smiithys  @rottenroyalebooks  @kpopgirlbtssvt  @fangirl-tc27  @fr0z3n-1  @notmesimpingfortechno  @shotarosleftpinky  @kunoi-chan  @idk-whats-wrong-with-me  @yikeroonie  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @poetry-and-tea  @ama-do-writing-stuff  @wishbonewolf  @emeraldxhope  @t0xick1tty  @kusuinko  @speakyourselfloveyourself  @sophia902103  @lo-manburg  @classsykittykat  @dmgama  @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee  @btsiguess-kpop  @akaashi-baby  @gun-jong-simp  @geschichtenfee  @yerapotato-wp  @browneyedgirl365  @thysagclub  @sparklycloudnight  @helloatomicshadow  @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal  @lucy-bunny17  @aaliyahh0  @katluckybear  @boyleanti  @straybids  @franchesca-791  @cosmicstorm19  @averyisbackinthetrashcan  @aomi-nabi  @xlanawriter  @allensimpsforcorpse

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse fanfiction #corpse fic #corpse fluff #corpse fandom #corpse fanfic #corpse x y/n #corpse x you #corpse x reader #corpse imagine #corpse imagines #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fanficiton #corpse husband fanfic #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband fanfiction #corpse husband fluff #corpse husband fic #corpse husband imagine #corpse simp #corpse husband is ruining my life #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #fan #fandom #fluff #requests open #request

[allthecolorsofourlove]

“ian you’re not lame you’re an idiot only sometimes and if you want to go for it you should go for it.” followed by a second text of two rat emojis with the word “communication” in the middle.

my mother is outside the bathroom door on the phone. i will have to communicate with her in the next week and it’s making me ill. her scrutiny isn’t something i can stand even when i am steady, but because of you i am topsy turvy. it will make the correspondence twice as hard.

them and i have a running saying about “things that rearrange our brain chemistry”, and you are one of them. typically it’s the bad-kind-of-bad rearrangement, but you are the silly-kind-of-bad. you’re always in my head: devil on the shoulder. this is something really fucking good. sinfully so.

recently someone wandered through old writing and i found the start of something—the start of your fingers trailing along my thigh. “to be cherished out loud”—loved in full technicolor. you really are the sun: sometimes looking at you is so overwhelming that i just have to look away.

i am a bit childish in all this. i can’t always say what i mean or what i want to for fear of it being wrong. i struggle with self doubt. i have stumbled many times before this but i want this to work more than anything. you make so much easy but the thing with teeth in my head likes to bite at my image of you. please don’t let it. i am doing my best to scare it off.

i bite your lip and you say, “now is not the time for that”, with that little lilt in your voice when i know i’ve struck a tender nerve. how could it not be the time? you are warm and safe and wearing my college sweater. you held me in the crook of your neck and let me sleep. the soft scramble of my mind begins to harden.

when i look at the camera you know. you see the cracks in my performance. it’s a little terrifying. it makes me shudder. i want to rip the wires out and shove them into your hands. i’ll let the camera go one day but i don’t think i can quite yet. when i pull the plug on performative truth i’ll let you know: though i am sure you’ll see it first.

i am already excited to come home in a month. two birthdays and a heavier day. like a weighted blanket i am draping myself over you and pooling out into the night.

communication sandwiched in the walls of a confessional. stepping out of the booth. tearing down the grate. spoiling the ending. your mouth on my throat and on my chest and kissing the tips of my fingers. your car, your bed, my bed, my couch. a loveseat surrounded by eyes.

i’m laying in bed and thinking of you getting coffee in my clothes and laughing to myself because there was no way we could hide this. everything is a performance. the first thing you said was “make your way up to the stage”, and from that moment on the chivalry has been in full view. communication as i try my best to swallow fear and in turn take to swallowing you. i leave in three days and it will cut a limb from my body. call me, visit me, i will miss the sea on your skin and the bleach soft touch of your hair. your lips like mango and electricity and something good. your hands on my thigh. your hands on my shirt. pulling and pushing and trailing and making me lose every train of thought.

not the embarrassing thought, but arguably a worse one: whenever i’ve kissed others in the past i find my mind likes to wander. the attention deficit gets the best of me and i am thinking about what i want to say later or what i’ll do tomorrow instead of them. with you, this happens so rarely i find it hard to breathe.

#ohhh this is sopping wet and pathetic #the herb garden #creative writer #prose #prose poetry #prose poet #writing #creative writing #writings #poetry

[bananaofswifts]

In the new Taylor Swift documentary, “Miss Americana,” which premiered at the Sundance Film Festival Thursday night, there’s a montage of derogatory commentary about the singer that has appeared on cable shows over the years. One of the less nasty remarks: “She’s too skinny. It bothers me.”

As it turns out, it eventually bothered Swift, too.

In one of the most revealing and surprising segments of the Netflix film, Swift talks for several minutes about having struggled in the past with an eating disorder.

After being pictured facing a phalanx of photographers after she emerges from her front door, Swift is heard in voiceover saying that “it’s not good for me to see pictures of myself every day.” Although she says “it’s only happened a few times, and I’m not in any way proud of it,” Swift admits there have been times in the past when she’s seen “a picture of me where I feel like I looked like my tummy was too big, or… someone said that I looked pregnant … and that’ll just trigger me to just starve a little bit — just stop eating.”

Swift elaborated on what she’s gone through with that in her interview with Variety for this week’s cover story, saying that it was difficult for her to speak up about it for the documentary.

“I didn’t know if I was going to feel comfortable with talking about body image and talking about the stuff I’ve gone through in terms of how unhealthy that’s been for me — my relationship with food and all that over the years,” she tells Variety. “But the way that Lana (Wilson, the film’s director) tells the story, it really makes sense. I’m not as articulate as I should be about this topic because there are so many people who could talk about it in a better way. But all I know is my own experience. And my relationship with food was exactly the same psychology that I applied to everything else in my life: If I was given a pat on the head, I registered that as good. If I was given a punishment, I registered that as bad.”

In the quiet of a hotel suite, she goes into greater detail on how formative an effect that one early tabloid torpedo had on her. “I remember how, when I was 18, that was the first time I was on the cover of a magazine,” she says. “And the headline was like ‘Pregnant at 18?’ And it was because I had worn something that made my lower stomach look not flat. So I just registered that as a punishment. And then I’d walk into a photo shoot and be in the dressing room and somebody who worked at a magazine would say, ‘Oh, wow, this is so amazing that you can fit into the sample sizes. Usually we have to make alterations to the dresses, but we can take them right off the runway and put them on you!’ And I looked at that as a pat on the head. You register that enough times, and you just start to accommodate everything towards praise and punishment, including your own body.”

She hesitates. “I think I’ve never really wanted to talk about that before, and I’m pretty uncomfortable talking about it now,” she says quietly. “But in the context of every other thing that I was doing or not doing in my life, I think it makes sense” to have it in the film, she says.

Wilson, the director, is proud of Swift for taking up the subject with such candor. “That’s one of my favorite sequences of the film,” she says. “I was surprised, of course. But I love how she’s kind of thinking out loud about it. And every woman will see themselves in that sequence. I just have no doubt.”

The filmmaker points out that there were clearly plenty of people who didn’t think Swift was too thin back in the mid-2010s. “You can also just not notice people being really skinny, because we’re all so accustomed to seeing women on magazine covers who are unhealthy-skinny, and that’s become normalized.” Even with non-celebrities, Wilson says, everybody’s a body critic. “It’s incessant, and I can say this as a woman: It’s amazing to me how people are constantly like ‘You look skinny’ or ‘You’ve gained weight.’ People you barely know say this to you. And it feels awful, and you can’t win either way. So I think it’s really brave to see someone who is a role model for so many girls and women be really honest about that. I think it will have a huge impact.”

As much as Swift may be seen as a role model for speaking frankly on the subject, she’s got her own favorite artist, so to speak, when it comes to advocacy for women’s bodily self-image issues.

“I love people like (actress and activist) Jameela Jamil, because she says things in a really articulate way,” the singer tells us. “The way she speaks about body image, it’s almost like she speaks in a hook. If you read her quotes about women and body image and aging and the way that women are treated in our industry and portrayed in the media, I swear the way she speaks is like lyrics, and it gets stuck in my head and it calms me down. Because women are held to such a ridiculous standard of beauty. We’re seeing so much on social media that makes us feel like we are less than, or we’re not what we should be, that you kind of need a mantra to repeat in your head when you start to have harmful or unhealthy thoughts. So she’s one of the people who, when I read what she says, it sticks with me and it helps me.”

In the film, then-and-now photos illustrate just how thin Swift had gotten during the “1989” era, versus the still svelte but healthier look she sported by the time she toured behind the “Reputation” album in 2018. Swift says that her under-eating in that earlier time severely affected her stamina on tour.

“I thought that I was supposed to feel like I was going to pass out at the end of a show, or in the middle of it,” she attests in the documentary. “Now I realize, no, if you eat food, have energy, get stronger, you can do all these shows and not feel (enervated).” Swift says she doesn’t care so much now if someone comments on a weight gain, and she’s reconciled “the fact that I’m a size 6 instead of a size double-zero.” Swift says she was completely unaware that anything was wrong in her double-zero era, and had a defense at the ready should it come up. If anyone expressed concern, she’d say, “‘What are you talking about? Of course I eat. …. I exercise a lot.’ And I did exercise a lot. But I wasn’t eating.”

Few women viewing the film will fail to nod their heads as Swift describes the impossibility of any body shape or size living up to all the standards for beauty. “If you’re thin enough, then you don’t have that ass that everybody wants,” she says in the film. “But if you have enough weight on you to have an ass, your stomach isn’t flat enough. It’s all just f—ing impossible.” As she became aware of the problem, Swift says in the film, it would cause her to “go into a real shame/hate spiral.”

The word “shame” comes up elsewhere in conversation with Swift, who by virtue of becoming one of the most celebrated women in the world has also had to deal with more catty comments than almost any celebrity in the world — and hasn’t always succeeded in shaking it all off.

“I was watching a Netflix Brené Brown special on shame, because I read a lot of her books, because I have dealings with shame every once in awhile,” Swift tells Variety. “She was saying something like, ‘It’s ridiculous to say “I don’t care what anyone thinks about me,” because that’s not possible. But you can decide whose opinions matter more and whose opinions you put more weight on.’ And I think that is really part of growing up, if you’re going to do it right. That’s part of hoping to find some sort of maturity and balance in your life.”

She continues, “I don’t expect anyone with a pop career to learn how to do that within the first 10 years. And I know that there’s a lot of bad stuff that’s gone on recently, a lot of really hard stuff my family is going through, and a lot of opposition and feeling pressure or suppression of one kind or another. But I am actually really happy. Because I pick and choose now, for the most part, what I care deeply about. And I think that’s made a huge difference.”

#taylor swift #exclusive #variety

[the-fandom-fuckup]

A bit more for that modern fantasy au I teased a bit ago

Character designs n stuff are slightly based off the official halloween n fantasy ending arts, plus whatever else I wanted to do, so Kiri is a dragon shifter here, Baku is a werewolf, n Ochako is a witch.

There'll probably be a hint of a/b/o dynamics here for weres n shifters, n the idea of alpha!Kiri n alpha!Baku has stuck to me like glue, so that's a thing here also

There's no real plot for this, just these three being dumb n pining, and everyone around them rolling their eyes n dealing with it lmao

I've thought about jobs n first meetings tho, n came up with this. Kiri's a firefighter (along with Tetsu, who is also a dragon shifter, bc I love him and their bro-bond), bc big fire resistent boy running into fires to help people just makes sense. Also I really like the thought of him in the uniform

Ochako works as a self defense instructor with Gunhead at a small gym in town, probably helping people with magic items n stuff on the side for extra cash or smth, I dunno. She might wanna move into a more magically dominant field one day, but she likes the environment of the gym n the regulars that come in n chat between classes. She's also very good at what she does n has put many assholes in their place after they've scoffed at "the cute little girl you have here".

Baku is a "park ranger", n I use quotations bc that's the only title he could really give himself to have any authority over the land he owns. He gives himself more leeway than what some laws may grant, tho tbh if you're coming into his territory with intent to harm those in it, you're lucky to walk away at all just sayin'

He runs an escape park of sorts for weres n shifters to run around during full moons and other times they need to shed their human skin, personally owned so he can avoid all the bullshit regulations n "safety procedures" found in bigger places that try offering the same thing, but ultimately make the shifting process shittier than it needs to be. And words gets around so it gets super popular super fast, n people of all ages come by

Tbh the thought of a teeny tiny wolf, like 10y/o at most running around Baku n trying to get him to play, nipping at his ankles n calling him the pack alpha is really what settled the debate on whether he should be an alpha or omega. And the added image of Baku rolling his eyes n putting on his toughass act but not really minding it as he gets them moving with a tap on the ass, muttering "Fuckin told ya squirt, I'm not your pack alpha. Now find someone else's ankles to bite at, I'm busy", makes me feel really nice

For some first meetings, tbh Kiribaku probably happens first, n they meet when Kiri n Tetsu accidentally trespass on Baku's territory bc they're new to the area n found a big ass lake to soak in during a flight over town, like dude!! Fuck yea that could fit both of us easy, man I haven't soaked in my big form in forever lets go!

And ofc if the giant shadows overhead hadn't tipped him off the security sensors would've so Baku's like who in the FUCK!! N storms off to confront them bc you don't just come on his land like that. That's how people get fucking hurt you dumb assholes 😤😤

N Kiri n Tetsu are mostly just minding their own business, settling down into the lake like aw yea that's the shit, almost passing out bc they'd just had a long day n the water was so cool n the fish eatting the dead skin n shit off their scales was so relaxing. They don't even realise they'd drifted into a light doze when they hear furious snarling n harsh sniffing coming their way, n barely have enough time to get up before Baku comes tearing shit through the trees

And like. Kiri n Tetsu know that they're big boys. Their full sized dragon forms are huge n there's not much out there that scares them, but nobody likes coming face to face with a snarling werewolf, standing in their territory without any warning that you maybe shouldn't be there

Despite the hostile intro, it doesn't take much for the misunderatanding to be cleared up. There's a lot of apologies from Kiri n Tetsu n a lot of irritated snorts from Baku, but they get straightened out. Baku tells them what kinda show he's running n Kiri inatantly get sparkly eyes like dude!! You do that all by yourself?! That's so manly bro you gotta let us help with that

Baku snorts like you don't have to make empty offers if you wanna use the grounds, I don't refuse people unless they pose an actual threat to the others. You guys aren't dangerous, just stupid. N Kiri goes hey rude, but also it's gotta be a lot dealing with all that on your own. We can at least watch out from above, keep an eye on shit or whatever bc face it man, you may be great but even you can't be in multiple places at once.

And the only reason Baku ends up agreeing is bc they pester him about it until he's well past irritated, n he's figured out the only way to shut them up was concede. They can't be there fulltime anyway consudering their professions, but they're sure to help when they can

Kirichako meet at the gym. Kiri's buying a membership or smth bc you gotta keep the stength up bro! Can't be slacking when you're the difference between someone living n someong dying y'know? Ochako's either in a class or dealing with some hothead, her furrowed brows n puffed cheeks distracting Kiri n reminding him of a chipmunk before bud says smth he can't hear but has Ochako seeing red. It doesn't take long for him to end up on his ass n Kiri's just stuck watching, jaw dropped n heart eyes as Ochako tells the guy he can either fix his attitude or find somewhere else to go

Kiri turns to Tetsu like dude holy shit did you see that?? N Tetsu's like yea bro everyone saw it, n Ochako comes up to them like sorry about that. We have a no harassment policy here that some people overstep, n it sucks that we get people coming in that need it enforced but unfortunately it's pretty common.

Then, bc she's still a bit sour, she looks them both dead in the eyes with a fire raging behind hers like if that's not smth you think you can handle then you might as well save us all the hassle n leave now. N they're both like no way that was great, totally understandable, just tell us where to sign

And while she came off as kinda aggressive during their initial meet, Kiri's quick to find she has just as much sweetness to match her bite. He watches her between sets sometimes n sees how kind n gentle she can be with the younger classes that come in, how she doesn't single out people who struggle n instead moves to help n provide tips without making a huge deal of it

She's also one of the first people to come running when someone gets hurt, he finds out. He'd admittedly been more focused on her sparring with Gunhead than he'd been on the super heavy equipment he was using for his reps, n managed to look over at the perfect time to get flustered n drop it directly on his foot. The resounding crack was loud enough to catch quite a bit of attention, tho he knows the equipment is more likely to be damaged than his foot

Ochako doesn't even hesitate to run over n levitate him to take the pressure off of his not broken foot, going "oh my god are you okay?? Someone clear that bench please, he needs to get off his feet now!" N Kiri does appreciate the concern, as embarassing as it may be, n tries to tell her it's really not a big deal, thanks for the help but honestly--

N she rounds on him like say that one more time n you'll be dealing with a broken nose instead, now sit your ass down n let me handle this!! Kiri can't even reply with anything other than a quiet okay😳😳 bc he's always thought her determination was super admirable, but being this close n seeing it burn in her eyes so intensely is taking it to a whole new level n he has no clue how to handle it

Kacchako meeting is kind of a hybrid mix of the other two combined lmao. Baku owns a pack house where he lives with Deku, then later with Kiri, Tetsu, Mina, Kami, n Sero, but he's so busy with the park that he's hardly ever home. N since Ochako's kinda embarassed about her tiny ass appartment, they usually hang out at the pack house to talk over magic studies or gossip over whatever's happened recently. At this point Baku n Ochako have heard of each other but never been around at the same time

Which causes a problem one day while Ochako's in the kitchen making tea when Baku comes home. He'd had a stressful day warding off poachers or smth, n his rut's just a few days away now, so when he opens the door n is greeted with a slightly unfamiliar scent it sends him into a daze, where he stalks to the kitchen before he even knows that he's moving

Ochako knows tho, can hear the low growls and deliberately quiet steps creeping behind her, setting her on edge bc ohhhh my god, someone just broke into Deku's place holy shit!! And when it gets close enough to barely feel hot breath on the back of her neck she's flinging herself into action, all muscle memory as she gets a few quick jabs into Baku's gut. It knocks the question outta his lungs, getting out a choked "who the--" before her magic kicks in and she's picking him up n slamming him down with his weight returned for maximum momentum, body slamming the following "fUCK!!" out as well before she placed her weight on him to keep him down. She gets right in his face demanding "who are you?! How did you get in here?!"

And when he can breathe again Baku snaps back like "who tf am I?!? I live here!! Who tf are you?!?!" And like, she's still in fight mode so she's looking him over like hmm, so this is Bakugou. Then she realises wtf she's doing n goes oh my god it's Bakugou!! N she's jumping off him and apologising so fast that she's barely saying words, trying to take his hands n help him back up but getting swatted away bc you've done enough touching don't you think??

And yea, Baku's kinda pissed. Being attacked in your own house does that to anyone, let alone a pre-rut alpha. But also, he's kinda impressed, bc he can count on one hand the amount of people who've gotten the drop on him like that, but he'd rather die than admit it out loud. So he just huffs at her with a final "try that shit again n I'll kill you", n stalks off to his room, having more important things to worry about right then than who's fucking around in his kitchen

((His rut decides to be completely unhelpful that time around, his alpha brain locking in on the faint perfume she'd left on his shirt while tossing him around and how perfectly it mixed with his own scent, as well as the shirt he nabbed from Kiri's laundry basket the night before. He rubs the scents of these strong potential mates all over his den, knots his rut aid with his face plastered to the shirts then uses it to scent the shirts even more, drunk off of how well their scents all mix together. He's rightfully embarassed during the end when he can start thinking properly again n throws both shirts to the back of his closet to be forgotten about--as much as his alpha fights him on it--n moves on to his business like normal.

Tho if he tries to be home more often when he knows Ochako's coming around, n spends more time in Kiri's space, nobody's mean enough to comment on it. At least, not at first.))

Man I have many feelings about this, but I'll leave it here for now bc I could go on forever

#BnHA #Kirikacchako #Bakugou Katsuki #Kirishima Eijirou #Uraraka Ochako #Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu #modern fantasy au #I have a lot of feelings about this like wow #this is barely scratching the surface n it's so fucking long #a/b/o dynamics #at least a little bit

[rq-s]

Could I request 1 and/or 12 with Hoshi?..🥺 I am: soft for that man recently (I hope you're doing well💖)

Prompt: “Oh my gosh–I love you!”  “… What did you just say?” + “Are you blushing?”  “N-no! This is just my natural complexion–so lay off!” 

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung / NB!Reader

Genre: Fluff | Romantic 

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: None

Credits: @clean-prompts for the dialogue prompts

Summary: Your phone fell from your hands and continued to buzz against your tummy. A call from Soonyoung had woken you up. It was almost 6pm; you napped for four hours. Your date was at 5pm. 

Notes: Thanks for making a request Peyton!! I’m sorry this took so long, but I had a lot of fun writing it! The combo of these two prompts works really well together ^-^ I’m doing okay, yeah, I hope you’re doing well too ♡ 

My Masterlist

Soonyoung’s name and image popped up on your screen as he called for the fourth time now, and you struggled to sit up from the couch. The itchy feeling of having slept in your work uniform was making you cringe. Luckily, you managed to sit with your legs crossed without getting too tangled in the blanket.

“Soonyoung, I’m so sorry.” You answered and spoke first, using your free hand to wipe the tiredness from your eyes. He brushed it off in instant understanding of the situation, just by the sound of your voice.

“It’s alright, I figured you’d oversleep after a night shift,” You haven’t known him long, but him chuckling at your expense was something you’ve come to expect of the lighthearted man. “Are you still feeling up to tonight?”

He sounded so optimistic, something else you’ve grown unused to from him. After working together for almost 2 years, there were lots of things you knew him for.

“Of course, I shouldn’t take long.  If I'm not outside when you get here, you can wait in the driveway.” You tried to sound excited, which you were, but the grogginess wasn’t fading. You could hear a sigh of relief from the other end of the line.

“Alright, take your time. I’ll leave in about half an hour and it takes a while to get to your side of town, so… you don’t need to feel rushed.” His voice lowered to a soft volume and he stammered over his words. He wanted to make you comfortable, even if it meant waiting a few more hours.

He wasn’t embarrassed about it, but not only did he invest in an iron just to press his outfit, but he ordered a bouquet for you days ago, and that bouquet was now buckled in his passenger seat so he wouldn’t forget to bring it.

And he would wait as long as it took. He'd been waiting this long to get you to even notice him, a few more hours was nothing.

“Thanks Soonie, I’ll see you later, okay?” The smile was audible in your voice this time while you pressed the phone a bit closer and spoke quietly, as if anyone were even around to hear. The butterflies in his chest kicked up a storm at the sound. He hastily agreed and hung up first, falling into a mushy mess on his desk at the mere idea of holding your hand.

One cold shower later, plus the adrenaline and anxiety of going on a date, brought you to your senses enough to get ready. You trusted Soonyoung and took time making sure everything looked like you’d imagined it to, not wanting to give Soonyoung any less than 100 percent, despite how lethargic you still felt.

You gave yourself one final glance over before leaving, and before you could even turn to close the door behind you, so froze.

Soonyoung was leaning leisurely against the hood of his car when his eyes met yours. In his hands was a bouquet of fresh red roses resting in a simple glass vase. Tied In a loose bow around the neck of that vase was a matching red silk ribbon and sitting among the petals was a card. His sneakers were a similar, but much brighter shade of red, much like the bowtie that sat slightly askew under the collar of his tucked white dress shirt. Even his thin belt was red, holding his black slacks on his hips comfortably.

A memory of him enthusiastically telling you about how he'd just learned the intricate symbolism of the color red flashed in your mind. How romantic. You couldn’t help but chuckle, out of nervousness and surprise.

“So, this is why you demanded I wear red?” You approached him and chuckled at seeing his ears turn pink. He bowed his head shyly, hiding his eyes behind his bangs as he extended the base to you. Any awkwardness fled you as you finally realized the severity of him offering you his affection so candidly. The anxiousness  was coming from him like waves off the shore.

Time seemed to tick by agonizingly slow, and Soonyoung worried his clammy fingers wouldn’t be able to hold the vase much longer. His eyes were shut firmly and he had hoped you wouldn’t notice how tense his entire body was. He trusted that you wouldn’t say something in this situation that would hurt him, but he braced himself all the same.

“Oh my god…” You didn’t notice you were speaking allowed. In his own fear, he didn’t notice you had taken the card from the flowers. On it read a simple confession: I’ve always liked you.

Somehow, being asked on a date did not make this concept click in your head until reading it explicitly in that moment.  

“I love you!” You finished, like getting a heavy weight off your shoulders, and it brought a wave of relief over your body. The waves of pressure coming from Soonyoung, however, snapped back to him tightly like a rubber band.

His eyes darted up , scanning your face for hints of a lie or teasing. He only found the same look of shock that was across his own features.

“What did you just say?” He asked, and the sound if his voice rung in your head like beating drums. Now, after all this time, and only after being given a gift and needing to be told directly, did you recognize your own feelings. They’d even jumped from your tongue before you even thought them yourself.  

Despite this frustrating self realization you try to stay composed, taking the vase from his hands and holding it in the crook of your arm, then putting your free hand on his shoulder.

“Are you blushing?” You teased, but squeezed his shoulder gently in attempts to help ground him.

“N-no! This is just- it’s my natural complexion, so lay off!” Soonyoung pouted, jerking his shoulder to remove your hand and crossing his arms over his chest. You giggled sincerely, holding the vase fondly while your mind grew more comfortable with its own emotions by the second.

Perhaps, just maybe, you really did love him.

#hoshi x reader #soonyoung x reader #kwon soonyoung x reader #seventeen x reader #svt #hoshi #soonyoung #kwon soonyoung #seventeen #svt hoshi #seventeen hoshi #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #hoshi fluff #soonyoung fluff #brbkpop

[ice-cream-nekogirl]

i’m falling again (Bakugo Katsuki X Reader) (sad ending)

Guys... Harry Style’s newest song is... heartwrenching and I fucking love it, it’s such a tearjerker and I love it so much, I NEEDED to write something with it... it’s that good and it made me cry... >.< </b>

Think of this as an extra to my ‘Dump His Ass’ series that I never expected to become oddly popular!! Thanks you guys!! <3</b>

However, while I love me some angst, I think after I’m done with this I’ll hafta write another fic with a happier ending, but for now... here’s the sad ending!! :3 

FROM: https://ice-cream-kitsunegirl.tumblr.com/post/188898319229/i-needed-to-lose-you-to-love-me-bakugou-katsuki-x

Summary: Bakugo isn’t known for his soft heart, but when he saw you kissing another man, it physically hurt...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=olGSAVOkkTI

Nothing hurt or scared Katsuki Bakugo.

Nothing. 

He’s been strong and brave-hearted since he was a child, fearless by nature he didn’t let anything get to him and never showed any moment of weakness and never cried about anything, no temper tantrums didn’t count. 

He wasn’t afraid of the dark as a child, he wasn’t afraid of the bullies who were bigger than him. His fear didn’t waver as he got older and stronger. Because he wasn’t afraid of the villains who attacked him and his classmates at the USJ. He wasn’t even scared of the villains who captured him at the summer camp.

They held him captive and tied him up so he couldn’t escape or try to fight back, he wasn’t scared then. Nothing could get to him. Nothing could make him break down, he didn’t cry when he got his first shot at the doctor, he didn’t cry when those older kids fought with him, he didn’t cry when he wiped out on his bike and hurt his ankle. 

He didn’t cry and he wasn’t afraid of anything. 

Aside from maybe getting nearly possessed by that Sludge Villain, and then All-Might going into retirement. Those were the only two moments in his life that probably scared and internally harmed him the most to bring him to tears.

However...

There’s only one person who really knew how much that scared and hurt him. And that person was you, his beloved girlfriend. Even when he didn’t want to, because Bakugo didn’t open up to people, it wasn’t in his nature. Still, somehow you knew everything about him, and even enabled him to open up to you on the rare moments where he would let you see even a SMIDGE of vulnerability from him because he trusted you.

You were always more openly emotional than him, so much it was annoying especially when you would just chat and chat about something you loved whether it was a movie, a TV show or something he thought was dumb. Still, he listened to you, and God he wished he did more of that. But he especially listened when you were being vulnerable and opening up about everything. Ever since you and him were kids, he’s had a soft spot for you and actually let you open up.

You knew him, you trusted him, you loved him. And he knew you, he trusted you, and he loved you.

But then you dumped his ass, told him what a shitty boyfriend he had been and said you wanted absolutely nothing to do with him for several months as you avoided him, froze him out and showed how little you needed him because he failed you.

Now that both terrified him and hurt him...

I'm in my bed And you're not here And there's no one to blame but the drink and my wandering hands Forget what I said It's not what I meant And I can't take it back I can't unpack the baggage you left

It’s been almost half a year since the two of you have broken up, and only recently you and Bakugo got some closure and you didn’t take him back. And honestly, Bakugo knew that was nobody’s fault but his own. He hated admitting it to himself but he knew there was no one else to blame but himself.

As he lied in his bed, he tried his hardest to ignore the fact that you still weren’t with him. Valentine’s Day wasn’t long ago, but he didn’t buy you anything because you and him weren’t together anymore. 

The worst part? He didn’t even get you anything LAST Valentine’s Day because he said it was stupid, commercialized and a game that you shouldn’t have played into even as you gave him those chocolates and even a card that he still secretly kept.

He really was a shitty boyfriend. He realized that the more he lied down with an anguished scowl and growled. Bakugo was aware that he could have been a better boyfriend, but the breaking point was when he called you something he swore he’d NEVER call you.

That’s why you left him. You put up with his bullshit long enough, you could handle him being a jerk, saying ‘no’ to spending time with him, but then he insulted your appearance, your weight, and your interests. The same things all the assholes from school used to insult you for, the assholes HE protected you from.

“Dammit!!” He yelled at no one but himself, “You fucking idiot!!” Even though you said that the two of you could still be friends, Bakugo wished for more than that. He wanted you back...

He wanted you back so fucking much even though he knew he didn’t deserve you. Bakugo refused to shed any tears even as he eventually closed his eyes...

“I dump your ass!”

“WHAT?!”

“You heard me. I. DUMP. YOUR. ASS!” You enunciated the words slowly and deliberately to annoy him and he was extremely indignant and appalled that you were… seriously breaking up with him?! HIM?!

“You’re dumping me?!”

“What the fuck do you think I said it two fucking times!!” 

“You’re not seriously breaking up with me over a fucking insult?!” Bakugou’s pride started talking for him though, because he refused to let you bruise his ego by dumping HIM.

“Yes I am Katsuki, and that’s not the only reason… It’s because you’re also selfish and mean! You’re the worst boyfriend ever and I’ve put up with your shit plenty of times but this is just WAY TOO FUCKING MUCH! What you said is just too fucking much for me to even put up with, you’ve completely broken me down I feel like shit and I’ve HAD it and I’m dumping your ass!”

...

“You called me ‘fat’, ‘ugly’ and ‘lazy’ Katsuki. There’s nothing to talk about.” 

“I did NOT call you ugly!” Bakugou replied defensively, aware that he called you ‘fat’ when he really shouldn’t have and he didn’t deny it, but he did NOT call ugly at all. He never thought you were ugly, but you didn’t believe him.  

“Yeah you did… you implied it.” 

“No, I didn’t you idiot! I said shit I shouldn’t have but I never once called you ugly and I didn’t fucking imply it either!”

“You know I’ve been struggling with my self-image and my weight for years Katsuki, and yet you go and say all the things people from school had said to me for years, the people who made me feel ugly, so… you must think I’m ugly if you would say what they’ve been calling me…” 

“I don’t think you’re ugly…” His voice came out as a soft growl, but you shook your head, “Then you wouldn’t have said what you did… it’s okay… I’ve known it for years… well you know what? You’re free now, you don’t need some ugly, fat girl like me dragging you down, maybe now you can go out with that chick from Shiketsu High now..”

...

“How fucking long are you going to punish me (Y/N)?! HOW FUCKING LONG?! ARE YOU REALLY STILL PISSED OFF OVER SOMETHING THAT HAPPENED MONTHS AGO?!”

“Of COURSE, I’m still kind of pissed off! And for the record I am NOT punishing you, you narcissistic asshole, I’m TRYING to think about how I should forgive you for the things you swore to NEVER call me! Or if I even should forgive you! W-What? You want me to j-ju-ju-just… make out with you like its old times?!” You exclaimed with the same vexation that you had been keeping at bay ever since the two of you broke up, not seeing Bakugou’s narrowing eyes and shaking figure as he seethed when you once again, reminded him of the big mistake he made with you.

“I… I mean I… I can’t even look at your face Katsuki! Without… thinking about and hearing the words you said to me and the expression of anger and disgust on your face when you said that I was just some fat pig who was wasting your time!” Emotion nearly choked you up as you wiped your eyes when tears started to cloud them and you couldn’t see just how aggravated and distressed Bakugo was as he clutched his hair out of frustration.

“I FUCKED UP!! How many times do I have to say that I fucked up?! How many times do I have to say I’m sorry?!”

Throwing his hands up, he shouted that he had indeed screwed up, louder than before, frustrated with everything, with you, with himself, with the fucking guilt that just started eating away at him again.

“You can say you’re sorry all you want! I just… I can’t ignore the fact that you would stoop so low to say the same things the people YOU protected me from would say to me. Why did you do that?” 

“ARGH! Dammit! I don’t fucking know! I was pissed off! I had shit I was dealing with and I took it out on you but I shouldn’t have! I admit it!” 

“I just… god… here’s my real question… why are you such a fucking asshole to me?” 

“For God’s sake I said I was sorry for what I said all right?! I’ve said it a million goddamn times! I’m SORRY (Y/N)! I didn’t mean what I said to you! I want to take it all back because it was the worst fucking thing I could have ever said to anyone! Especially you!” He shouted his apology, the angry tears threatening to spill but you shook your head at this.

“I’m not talking about what you said, I’m talking about everything! Ever since we got together you’ve still managed to treat me like shit! Even before we got together you still treated me like shit, and yet it got worse when we became a thing! You hardly spent anytime with me, pushed me away when I tried to help you, made fun of what I liked, insulted me and called me other names for what? Cuz I’m a geek like Izuku, cuz I like geeky things and like to watch TV and eat sweets and say dumb puns and hang out with Izuku and Hitoshi, well I’m sick of it Katsuki! I’m fucking sick of it!”

...

“Look… Katsuki… I mean you no ill will. I still care about you, and I still love you but… I really, really don’t think you’re a good boyfriend…” You said a little bluntly but made your voice soften as he gasped quietly.

“You’re not a bad person… but you’re not a good boyfriend either… and I don’t really think that I can really return to a relationship like that… sorry…” 

“I know I wasn’t! But… look just… dammit (Y/N) I’m not going to say any of that shit to you ever again! I won’t fuck up like I did last time I swear!” He sounded desperate, as if he was pleading to you as he moved closer and you fought the tears starting to build in your eyes when he grabbed your hands. He would beg if he had to, he just couldn’t lose you.

“I love you.”

He said calmly and yet sincerely, out of pure impulse but that’s what he truly meant. He loved you and he just wanted to hear you say the words back to him. He knew you did…

“See that’s just it… I know you love me… I love you too… but… I thought you loving me was enough, at least… until… you said the things you did… now I know you’re sorry… and I don’t doubt that you do love me but… I started hating myself again when you said those things and it made me realize that… I need to love me too, I need to start loving myself… and I didn’t love myself when I was with you. I let you do that for me, and… I can’t do that anymore. It’s not fair to you, and not good for me.”

...

What am I now? What am I now? What if I'm someone I don't want around? I'm fallin' again I'm fallin' again I'm fallin'...

Bakugo’s eyes snapped open as the memories played in his head like some kind of fucked up movie as he remembered every word you said, every tear you shed because of him.

And now here he was, holding in his own tears that he refused to let fall as he angrily wiped at his eyes. No, he did not and would not cry, and he couldn’t cry over spilt milk no matter much it fucking hurt. No matter how much he wanted to just sob and cry out for you to come back to him so he could tell you how fucking sorry he was.

Dammit he couldn’t fucking take it anymore. He got up out of bed so he can go to your room and knock until you answer. He needed you, he needed you now...

He outright dashed to the floor where your room was and knocked somewhat vigorously. No answer. Growling, he knocked a little bit harder but again, there was no answer.

Were you asleep? Probably, you were a pretty deep sleeper, but dammit, he wished you were awake to answer him. But then he froze as soon as he heard the tell-tale sound of laughter...

YOUR laughter.

Relief overwhelmed him as he didn’t even realize that he was running so he could find you and not look as pathetic as he probably did right now. He could still hear you, you were near. The commons, duh, you were a late sleeper and watched Netflix when you couldn’t sleep...

“That is disgraceful...” 

But then the ash-blonde stopped dead in his tracks and froze the second he heard someone else’s voice that wasn’t yours. No fucking way...

Eyebags...

“I know...! Oh my God... how humiliating... I love this show but it so uncomfortably hits close to home...” That was your voice and you were giggling as you happily watched that gross show Bakugo didn’t care about at all. Big Mouth it was called, on Netflix too. You were watching Season 3′s ‘How to Have an Orgasm’ to be specific and of course, it was hilarious...

Unlike Bakugo, Shinsou appreciated the show, and watched it with you as he had with other shows on Netflix such as Stranger Things, Kimmy Schmidt, The Good Place, and Big Mouth.  

“Tell me about it... puberty’s a bitch... still is to be honest.” And to make matters worse, Shinsou was laughing with you and it wasn’t the first time. Bakugo was never a fan of Shinsou, he knew you were friends with that bastard, but naturally he was jealous of him because it just seemed like you two were just so damn buddy-buddy and it was annoying.

And yet there was now, just watching TV with you, while he himself was probably the furthest person from your mind...

What if I'm down? What if I'm out? What if I'm someone you won't talk about? I'm fallin' again I'm fallin' again I'm fallin'...

“Hee-hee... okay~. What do you say? The Office? Since...” Sighing sadly and dramatically you raised your fist in the air, “Friends got taken off...? Or The Good Place maybe?” You binge-watched the entire series before the New Year, because Netflix took it off, but at least you still had The Office and The Good Place.

“Yeah... Friends is gone, but The Office is here for us. Thank God... So yeah... let’s watch The Office. I’d watch The Good Place but I need to watch Season 4 since it just came out but I haven’t seen it yet. And I’ve been dodging spoilers ever since...” Shinsou gave you a smile even though he was just as unhappy as you were when they took Friends off of Netflix.  

“All riiiight~! Hee-hee good idea... I haven’t seen it yet either, I’m waiting til we get the chance to see it with Fumikage, Yuga, Denki and Mina so we can watch the last one altogether~.”

Bakugo had no idea why he was still standing there, but something in him told him to just fucking move already and say something to get your attention so you could see him. He opened his mouth to speak but...

“Can you believe this show’s been out for like 15 years and it’s just getting popular? Like crazy popular?” You nudged Shinsou playfully as he chuckled a bit, “Guess they finally realized how great a show it is...”

Shinsou thought outloud, having gotten closer to you over the past couple of months and spent a lot of time chilling out with you and also training with you as well. Then there were days when you and he would just spend the hours gabbing away about things you both liked. 

“That’s true... some people thought it was uncomfortable... but then they started to like it... which is nice.” You smiled a bit even though you were kind of sad for some reason. The last few months had been... awkward. After all, you had broken up with your boyfriend and went through quite a bit of drama until you cleared it up and made up with Bakugo. You didn’t get together with him, but the two of you reached an understanding and were still friends.

You still talked to him, and you lost your hostility towards him and became more cordial towards him. Although you’d be lying if you said you didn’t still love him. But this was for the best, you couldn’t go back to that, and you were in a better place anyway. You started to feel better and you were able to use your quirk again to fly without your sadness holding you back. You were happier, and not only that...

“Like me.” Shinsou smirked a little bit even though it was a self-deprecating joke which made you roll your eyes. “Hitoshi... okay... you’re a little uncomfortable to be around sometimes, but that was like only in the beginning, you’re great! You’re super great... and awesome. I mean your quirk is so cool, you can fight and punch someone hard enough to knock them out now! AND... you also like Friends, The Office, The Good Place, Stranger Things, smart as hell and you’re nice... well, not nice, but you have a nice side... anyone who can do all those things and like all of that HAS to be great in my book.” You kinda poked at him a bit as he playfully smacked your shoulder with a little grin which made you giggle.

And Bakugo hated it...

“Oh yeah? Well... you’re giving me too much credit (Y/N)... Here’s the truth... I think... you’re great.” 

But Bakugo’s eyes widened when he heard Shinsou say those words to you and you blushed and looked at him with wide eyes that practically shined with stars in them. “Really?”

“Yeah...” He sounded kind of flustered but he didn’t really stop because this was something he needed to tell you even though his face was getting increasingly hot just saying all of this as he nervously scratched the back of his neck, “I mean... your quirk is unique. You made yourself fly, you gave yourself wings to fly, no one else did that but you, you used your quirk creatively and it shows even outside of that, when something bad happens, you managed to make yourself fly again. And you’re weird... in a good way, everyone’s so fake and plastic that they don’t even try to be who they are, but you’re not fake, you’re just... you. Even if you know not everyone will like it, you don’t try to hide it or change yourself for anyone whether they like it or not, and that’s just... great.... I try to do that, I make no effort to change myself but... when you do it it’s actually cool.  I guess... I mean... yeah I just... I think that’s all great. I think... you’re great (Y/N).”

Shinsou stopped making eye contact with you as he felt somewhat bashful, but only when he finished is when he finally looked at you and saw your (E/C) eyes wide and your cheeks flushed. Neither of you aware that Bakugo was still there, listening...

That stupid brainwasher was right... you were great but dammit... HE wanted to tell you that... HE wanted to tell you how great your were and everything else that you were. Beautiful, amazing, intelligent, powerful...

However...

You were so stunned by everything Shinsou told you that you didn’t even think, you acted on pure impulse as you quickly leaned in and you didn’t even hear the gasp coming from your ex-boyfriend’s mouth once he saw your lips on Shinsou’s.

And I get the feelin' that you'll never need me again...

He was falling. Bakugo felt like he was falling as he watched you kiss that brainwashing bastard who made a startled, surprised sound once he felt your warm kiss. Yet Shinsou didn’t deter as Bakugo clenched his fists when he saw his eyes closing as he kissed you back.

He didn’t exist. You didn’t even see him and he knew it because you were lost in such a deep kiss with this extra and it fucking hurt...

He wanted to scream, he wanted to push Shinsou away and tell him to fuck off and tell you that he wanted you back, but he did nothing...

And he knew he was just a fucking loser because all he did was stand there, until his feet started moving as he turned his back so he could get the hell out of here. No, Bakugo couldn’t bear to see you kissing that bastard, he couldn’t bear to see that you had officially moved on.

He didn’t matter anymore to you, he knew it...

Nothing hurt or scared Katsuki Bakugo. Nothing. Except for seeing the love of his life kissing another man. He was a coward, a fucking weakling because now everything was hurting, his chest ached as he lied back in his bed. And he was letting this hurt him, but dammit... it hurt because he loved you. He still loved you and still wanted you here...

What am I now? What am I now? What if you’re someone I just want around? I'm fallin' again I'm fallin' again I'm fallin'...

You were his biggest fan,  his biggest supporter. Not anymore. He knew that... but he didn’t love you just because of that, he loved you because you were you. A dork, a weirdo, unafraid to be your loving and quirky self. You softened his heart and yet he let his own stupidity and asshole self treat you like garbage when you deserved better than that.

He refused to cry, but because he was such a damn weakling the tears just fell and betrayed him by streaming down his face as he swallowed the hard lump in his throat that was threatening to crawl up and make it’s presence known. His breath hitching as he stared up at his ceiling and his mind just showed the image of you kissing Shinsou.

Along with the image of him yelling at you and you ending it with him. It was all he could see through his teary eyes as a soft sob choked him while tears continued to fall and drip down his neck. 

Because you didn’t love him anymore, and you weren’t going to need him again and that fucking terrified him more than anything as he cried and fell back into his misery and wished that it was him kissing you, and wishing that you were here with him to catch him as he fell.

What if I’m down? What if I’m out? What if I'm someone you won’t talk about? I'm fallin' again I'm fallin' again I'm fallin'...

#boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia bakugo #katsuki bakugou #bnha katsuki #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader angst #bakugo x reader x shinsou #bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader angst #bnha angst #mha angst #my hero academia angst #boku no hero academia angst #bakugo angst #harry styles #harry styles falling #shinsou x reader #bnha shinsou #bnha katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader angst #katsuki x reader #angst songfic #falling #bakugou headcanons #shinsou hitoshi x reader

[xfandomwritingsx]

His Girl – Steve Rogers – Part 1

-gif source-

Description: You’ve always been Bucky’s girl. But Bucky’s not here anymore…

Warnings/Labels: Post Snap. Angst. Self-Hate. Pining. Daddy kink. Slightest briefest illusion to choking kink. No smut yet. A small hint of fluff if you squint.

Approx. Word Count: 7,000

A/N: This took on a mind of its own. I’m sorry. This was supposed to be a one-shot, but as it usually happens with me, I’ve written this part and am just at a standstill. So to boost my motivation, I’m posting what I’ve got. I hope you guys like it. There will be smut in the next part. Just as soon as I write it.

You hate how cliché it is. Really, you do. If you could stop it, you would. If you could stop the ache inside of you yearning for your best friend left in the galaxy and simply go back to the overwhelming sadness, the mourning for your lost boyfriend, you would do it in a heartbeat. Because at least the sadness felt right. It belonged. It was valid. 

The aching flame of desire that’s been building, growing steadily inside of you is not. It’s out of place in this world and it’s just wrong. It feels like betrayal and tastes like bitter poison with the potential to destroy you.  

It’s so damn clichéd to say he’s an addiction, but fuck it if you just can’t bring yourself to leave him behind. You tried once. You stopped answering his calls and his texts. You took a vacation away from everyone, but it felt like a torture just as bad as indulging in what you have to admit is much more than a crush. You’d been back in town less than twenty-four hours before he showed up at your apartment to greet you and just seeing him made you feel light and airy and you knew you were hopeless. So you stopped trying. 

The worst part about all of it? You know he feels the same way about you. For most, knowing the person you want to be with also wants to be with you would be a blessing. Instead, it’s a cruel twist of the knife in the back of the man you love. 

Loved? 

No. Love. Loves. There are some days you need to remind yourself. Bucky is gone, but your love is not, cannot, and will not be gone. Which is why the way Steve’s watching you from across the table sends both a blush to your cheeks and drop kick to your gut.  

He’s different now, hardened over the last three years since the snap. Maybe that’s why it’s only now that you’ve drawn such an attraction to him. He had been too soft for you before, too morally white and good. He’d slipped into the role of supportive friend and colleague so easily that there was no room for anything else. And when you grew close to and eventually fell head over heels for Bucky? Any chance of a spark was stomped out. With that Steve at least. But this one? This Steve opened a new door that you aren’t sure can be shut. This Steve is rough around the edges and takes what he wants. This Steve is watching you instead of the holographic conference call you’re on, propping his elbow on his armrest, two fingers resting on his cheek while he gently bites down on the tip of his ring finger and his pinky plays along his bottom lip, all with an absolutely sinful look in his eyes. 

Old Steve never would have done that. 

You struggle to listen to what everyone else is saying. The meeting is boring to say the least, a bi-weekly check in that didn’t really need to be done but everyone participated in our of habit. It’s just you and Steve physically in the room since Natasha had left earlier in the day to travel to a nearby town that needed aid. You wonder briefly if the rest of your colleagues notice the way he’s looking at you or the way you shift in your seat across the wide spacing circular table, but you don’t really care. You realize you’re biting your lower lip and his eyes are drawn to where your teeth sink in gently.  

Someone calls your name with the tone of having already called it at least twice and you snap your eyes back up to the blue holograms in front of you. Carol is raising a single eyebrow at you and Rhodey is wearing the smallest smirk. You push down the embarrassment and sit further up in your chair, straightening your back and forcing yourself not to look at Steve who you know is chuckling at your lack of composure.  

“Nothing new to report here,” you say after clearing your throat. “Nat’s on her way now to help some cleanup efforts and nothing major has come up recently. Afraid to say it, but things might actually, finally be cooling down.” You chance a look across the table and Steve has his own eyebrow raised in a much less annoyed way than Carol had. His is teasing, suggestive. Things may have been cooling down for the rest of the world, but boy is it getting hot in this room. 

Fucking clichés again. It sounded ridiculous even in your own cloudy head.  

The call ends quickly after that. One by one all of their images dissolve in front of you and you’re left with no one else to look at except Steve. He removes his hand from his face, thank god, and folds them both into his lap as he casually leans back. 

“Plans this afternoon?” he inquires. You mirror his posture, leaning back in your own chair. 

“I should do those reports,” you groan, letting your head flop backwards onto the edge of the chair’s back. You hear him chuckle lightly before he responds in an apologetic way. 

“You know no one reads them anyways.” You snap your head back to squint your eyes at him. 

“You used to be all about paperwork, you know. What happened to organization keeps us going like a well-oiled machine or whatever it was you spewed at us?” you tease. He cracks a smile. 

“Less people makes keeping up with briefings a lot simpler.” There’s a bitter sadness behind the look on bright side undertone to his words and it threatens to ruin the mood. You tilt your head lazily and push past it.  

“Did you have something else in mind?” You don’t really have many plans today. The place could use a cleaning, but that’s not exactly high up on your want-to-do list. He shrugs and locks your eyes. 

“We haven’t sparred together for a while.” The suggestion sends a cold chill down your spine, a twist in your gut, and a tingling warmth between your legs, all of which leaves you feeling like you might float up out of your seat. He watches you carefully, just like always. Looking and waiting for the rejection, the polite decline on his invite.  

“I’ll meet you in the gym in ten?” You’ve never said no. Like the cliché goes; it’s a fucking addiction.  

Sparring has become your dirty little secret. You’d done it before, sure. But back then it was strict and with purpose and Old Steve corrected your form with precision. Now you only did it when you were alone and it was a whole different game. 

It starts friendly, a light warmup and practice drills both of you could do in your sleep by now. Some friendly banter. A couple of unexpected moves to throw the other off balance. His corrections no longer have that precision they once had. Instead his hands linger on you and he presses a little closer. Your focus has now shifted from besting the great Captain America to instead figuring out if you can get him to pin you down in a way that isn’t completely obvious.  

There’s times it’s slow and drawn out, a lot of dancing around and eyeing each other before a takedown. Other times it’s hard and fast with barely any warning before one of you is on top of the other. Sometimes it gets rough; a shove into a wall or a takedown that knocks your breath out completely. It was rough a lot the first year after The Snap. Neither of you ever willing to admit you needed the pain to fee alive. You’ve moved past that now and the roughness is for the sheer pleasure of it all. 

And then occasionally, when you haven’t been around each other enough and there’s something pent up inside both of you, it gets dirty; innuendos whispered against the shell of an ear, his leg between yours and a slight grind of his hips when he has you against the wall, an accidental slip of your hand up the inside of his thigh. The dirty was rare and taboo, but you couldn’t help but want it more often than you got it. 

No matter the type, at the end of it, you’re always breathing heavily and worn out, a mixture of aching to do it again and feeling completely satisfied coursing through you. You don’t like admitting it’s your version of sex, but it is. And the only reason you’re not slipping your hand into your panties every night after you do it is because you’re just too damn tired. Besides, you do that plenty of other nights. But that, and the overwhelming self-hate that comes with it, is a different story. 

You make quick work of changing into the black leggings, sports bra, and simple tank top you’ve made a habit of keeping in your room at The Haven. The place is your second home and there are some weeks you’re here more than you are your apartment, but you’ve thinned out the wardrobe you keep in an effort to keep yourself from lingering too long. As empty as it has become, the whole building holds an air of depression that’s seeped right into the grey walls. It’s also why you all stopped calling it The Compound and renamed it The Haven. It was a nice attempt to bring a warm feeling back to the place, even if it didn’t always work. 

You’re almost out of your bedroom door when you see the red sweater, his red sweater, resting on the chair in the corner. It gives you pause and that punch of guilt comes crashing over you in a wave. Leaving him in your room to go fuck his best friend.  

Stop.  

It’s not what you’re doing. He’s not in your room. He’s gone. Gone. And you’re not fucking anyone. 

You slip backwards out the door and watch that sweater until it’s just a sliver between the door and the frame. And then it’s gone, trapped behind a heavy wood door to stop taunting you. You breathe a weighted sigh and pry your hand from the door handle. Steve is waiting for you. 

--- 

“Feisty today, aren’t you?” he hisses after your elbow in his ribs puts some space between you. You’ve been at it for a little over twenty minutes. 

“Can’t handle me?” You swipe your arm over your forehead to slick away sweat. “You’re getting slow, old man.”  

“Age jokes?” There’s a smirk on his lips that should have warned you that he was about to make a move, but you’re completely unprepared. “What’s next?” he grunts as he manipulates you to twist your arm behind your back and presses his chest to your shoulder blades. His other hand ghosts around your neck, never doing more than cradling it in his palm. “You gonna start calling me Daddy?”   

Your sharp gasp is audible and there’s not a chance in the entire galaxy that he didn’t feel the way you shuddered and melted back against him. There’s a small chuckle against your hair just behind your ear that confirms it.  

Did he know? Had Bucky told him about your little secret kink that was rarely indulged upon? Fuck. Did he know all of your kinks? How much did they share with each other? Best friends. 

“Yield?” His voice is clearer, hands already loosening around you in preparation of letting you go. You recognize the tone. Something triggered his own guilt, prompting him to step back. You can let him go or you can keep him close, continue your game and push the boundaries. You want to so badly.  

You hesitate and breath catches in your throat as you fight internally with yourself before finally whispering, “Yield,” back to him. He’s gone in an instant, cold air filling the empty space behind you and you instantly regret it.  

There is no right answer. 

--- 

You have a reoccurring dream that’s somewhere between ecstasy and terror. You’re sharing a bed with Steve, in your childhood bedroom for a reason you can never figure out. It’s dark in the room and he’s pressed up behind you, a large hand over your hip and a clear hardness rubbing against your ass. Neither of you speak, but you push back into him, aching to feel that hardness between your legs.  

You grind against each other, soft moans the only sounds you hear. Then it’s not enough and that ache becomes too strong. Clothes are gone, dissolved off your bodies like they were never there as he scoops his arm behind your knees, bringing them to your chest as he sits up. He keeps you on your side as he gets to his knees, one hand on your ass, the other keeping your legs together and towards your chest. He lines himself up and your body is begging him to push inside of you. You bite down on your lip so hard, you swear you could feel the pain of it in the morning when you wake. All you want is for him to press his hips forward and put his dick inside of you. 

He obliges, but slowly. He eases in, just an inch at a time, slowing spreading you open for him and pleasure coursing through you. You moan and grip your pillow tighter. He feels only barely inside of you when there’s a sound outside the door, footsteps of someone coming closer.  

You hope and plead that they won’t enter, but they do. Steve bunches the comforter around his waist, shielding you from the unwanted eyes of the intruder, but stays inside of you. You want the person to go away, want Steve to push all the way inside of you, to fuck you like you’ve been craving, but it doesn’t happen. Steve withdraws and in a fit of anger about the feeling of emptiness between your legs, you sit up and are faced with the betrayal in Bucky’s eyes as he stands at the foot of your bed. 

You don’t remember much after that. Sometimes there is more, but when you wake you can never quite piece together the blurry memories. Sometimes you just wake up right there, unsure if you’re left horny or distraught; your constant inner turmoil. Usually, you kick the covers off yourself to cool your sweaty body and bury your face into your pillow, willing yourself back to sleep. 

--- 

You still remember the first time you realized how you felt about Steve. It happened unexpectedly and very suddenly. You’d both been in the study of what once was the Avengers Tower, but now was more of an empty, cursed castle. It was only eight months after The Snap. It didn’t feel like that long. As you both sat there in silence, a record playing softly to fill the void, you looked down into your newly empty glass and just felt defeated.  

A song started and from the very first bar, you recognized it. It was the slow, entrancing voice of Doris Day singing a song that had become very, very dear to your heart. Tears welled up, but you pushed them away with the back of your hand. 

“He used to say that if we ever got married, this was the song he wanted to dance to,” you told Steve, voice surprisingly clear for how you were feeling. He looked up from his own drink. You knew the alcohol didn’t have the same effect on his body as it did you and you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing for him right then. He looked at you apologetically and nodded. 

“I know a thing or two about being owed a dance you’ll never get.” It may not be the same exact situation, but he understood how you felt, how just a song could send you down a path in your mind that hurt so badly. He waited for a moment before downing the rest of his glass and standing up. He walked over to the record player and with a delicate ease, started the song over. Walking over to where you sat with a confused, sad look, he held out his hand. “I’m not Bucky, but I’m not too bad of a dancer.” You couldn’t help but smile at him and his attempt to ease the sorrow.  

“Well I’m not Peggy,” you said, slipping your hand into his. He gave a gentle pull to bring you to your feet. “And I will probably step on your toes,” you joke. It brought a smile to his face wider than you’d seen in a long time and it made you feel truly happy that you’d been the one to put it there. 

The song itself is only about a minute and a half long so he made quick work of placing his hand politely at your hip and holding your hand out to the side, swooping you into a small, slow step. He led with a grace you didn’t quite expect and it was easy to follow him, to get lost in the sway of the simple piano in the song.  

You found yourself leaning in closer, turning your head and pressed your cheek to his shoulder, eyes closed and face practically buried into the comfort of his neck. He laid his head carefully against yours and you suspect he also had closed his eyes to lose himself. You expected yourself to think of nothing but Bucky, to be imagining it was his arms you were in. Instead, you melted into Steve and the only thing you could think of, was how safe you were in his arms.  

You’d leaned heavily on each other in those first few months. Tears, hugs, shoulder bumps, squeezing hands, grounding looks from across the room. Anything and everything to keep your heads above water. He’d always been one of your best friends since the moment he came into your life and now you feared he may have actually been the last person on the planet that you could trust with everything you had.  

As the song faded down, you pulled away from him just enough to look him in the eyes and that’s when it hit you. Like a ton of bricks, as they say. Something came over you and you just wanted to pull him down and kiss him. There was a look you couldn’t quite place in his eyes. They were soft, an internal conflict reflected in them as he glanced down to your lips in a slow blink. His hand closed around yours, a palpable change from the gentlemanly way he had cradled it through the dance. His lips parted a fraction and your stomach started twisting in an anxious sort of pleasure.  

But then a new song came on, something more upbeat and the spell was broken. You both backed away from each other and you thanked him for the dance. You chocked it up to grief and craving safety and familiarity in such desolate and chaotic times. You expected it to fade, to wither away and never come back. 

But all it did was grow. 

--- 

You’re sitting in the main office with Steve, work long since forgotten. You’re sitting at what has officially become Nat’s desk, but with her gone on another will-be dead end hunt for Clint, you’ve made yourself comfortable in her chair. Steve sits across from you and though he won’t say it, he’s relieved he’s not in charge anymore. He’s content on the other side of the desk, riding out the storm instead of trying to tame it. 

It’s gotten late, the room growing dark with patches of yellow light from the lamps gently placed around the room. Everyone had silently agreed the overhead lights were too harsh for nighttime. They were too white. Too happy. Too fake. A soft, warming color from the lamps fit the air of night much better. It also helps to shadow your face after you swallow the rest of your drink. Your hair, growing a little longer than usual, provides a curtain that helps to give you courage for the question burning at the tip of your tongue. There’s been flirtations passed between you and the way his eyes roam over your body as you lean back only encourages you. 

“So be honest,” You don’t look at him as you ask, but instead at the empty glass you place on the desk. “Did he tell you?” When he responds with silence, you look up through your lashes to see a genuine look of confusion. You sigh, not wanting to elaborate. “The… daddy thing.” You cringe saying it. It’s been at least a month since Steve said it, but it still lingers in your mind all the time. His look of confusion lessens, but you can tell even more elaboration is still needed. “I don’t know how much guys share about that kind of stuff. I didn’t know if Bucky ever told you… about that.” Your foggy mind can’t find a tactful way to phrase Daddy Kink, but the look of realization dawns on his features. He licks his lips quickly before literally biting back a smile while he looks down. Your cheeks are absolutely burning in a blush right now. 

“Uhh,” he stutters and clears his throat. “He did not.” You let out an embarrassed groan and throw your face into your hands which draws a chuckle from him.  

“I thought for sure he had to have and you were screwing with me.” Your voice is muffled through your fingers, but still clear enough to understand. “Instead I just confess a kink for no reason.” Another groan from you and another chuckle from him. 

“Buck was a private guy. He didn’t share much about what went on behind closed doors.” Why did you open your mouth? Steve hadn’t brought it up. You could have continued your lives without him knowing and without tossing yourself into a pit of embarrassment.  

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, starting to melt your hands away from your face, but sinking down further into your chair. “You didn’t need to know that about me. I shouldn’t have said anything.” He’s still biting his lower lip, trying not to laugh at you and you’re not sure if you want to disintegrate or laugh along with him. 

“If it helps,” he starts, the sly smile on his lips tempting to turn into a seductive smirk. “Even though he didn’t tell me, it was pretty clear by the way you… reacted.” You can’t help it. It’s a tortured groan that comes out as you sink as low as you possibly can, butt sliding off the chair entirely, your lower back now supporting your weight. “Hey!” he calls to you, patting his palm against the wooden desk to cut through your groan. “It’s not that bad. Get back up here.” He’s still trying not to laugh. 

“Easy for you to say,” you mumble, but push yourself back up in your seat. “I need another drink.” You reach out to pour yourself another and Steve picks up his beer bottle. 

“You can just count it as another thing you and I have in common.” You stop pouring. He says it so simply, takes a swig of his beer so casually and yet there’s a glimmer in his eye that reflects the dirty place he sends your mind spiraling into.  

You thought he’d been teasing you, pushing your buttons. You never once thought it might be something he also liked. And if he didn’t know about your dirty little secret kink when he said it, had he said it for his own pleasure? Your stomach starts knotting inside of you and it’s getting uncomfortably warm. 

“That’s… good to know.” It’s not a good response, but your mind can’t come up with anything else. The tension between you is thick and light as a fucking marshmallow and you swear it tastes just as sweet. 

Neither of you speak for a time and neither of you look away. His eyes hold yours, dare you to make a move, to cross the line. You stare back, but barely seeing him as your mind runs wild imagining just how he would react if you called him Daddy and desperately trying to figure out how you can slip that into any future interactions.  

He can clearly see you’re daydreaming, but he still says nothing. He just watches as your eyes come and go, enjoying the way your tongue occasionally darts out to wet your lips and the flush that’s forming near your collarbone. You take a deep, slow breath to refocus yourself and calm your heart that you didn’t realize is pounding in your chest. 

He rests his fist under his chin, turns it so he can run his pinky finger over his bottom lip, making you wonder just how soft his lips would be and how roughly he’d press them to you. He looks as though he’s about to say something, but you’ll never know what because the buzzing of his phone vibrating on the desk breaks the spell. He looks at it and then regretfully back at you. 

“I have to take this,” he admits. You wave your hand and shake your head a little too wildly. 

“Go, go!” He swipes the phone from the desk and has it to his ear before he’s out of his chair and leaving the room. Everything comes crashing back down on you and the lustful heat just feels like sticky sweat now.  

You swallow your drink in one gulp and retire to your room before he gets back. 

--- 

Your hands are buried in the dirt, trying to dig a hole deep enough for the damned blueberry bush, but every time you think you’ve found the right spot, you hit giant rocks. Who the hell decided giant rocks should litter the ground where you would unexpectedly be trying to plant things? Try to do some good in the world you told yourself. It’ll be fun you told yourself.  

“You better fucking grow after this ordeal,” you hiss at the bush. Although it wasn’t even a bush yet. It’s a stem and roots that’ll take over a year to produce berries. Stupid damn garden. 

You’d started it two years ago. There was a patch of land in back of your apartment building that was getting overgrown and you were at the point where you needed a project, something to do. Growing some vegetables and herbs and flowers seemed like a good idea. Get into the dirt with your hands and make something. Grow something. Share something. Of course, you had no idea what in the hell you were doing so it took over a year for you to produce a vegetable that was larger than your finger. It’s a pain in the ass and plants are finicky as fuck, but despite your moaning and complaining, it works. It feels good. 

“If you don’t grow, I’m going to rip you apart with my hands and then find a chipper to run you through,” you threaten as you pick it up to gently place it in its hole.  

“I thought gardening was supposed to be soothing,” Steve’s voice comes from behind you. “Kind of like yoga or something.” You turn your head to pass him a glare. 

“Maybe intimidating plants is soothing to me.” You turn back to your bush and fill the hole in with dirt before pushing up off your knees and standing. “What are you doing here?”  

“What? Can’t visit my friend?” he teases. You take off your gardening gloves, hot hands feeling a rush of cool when they hit fresh air. You toss the gloves into your bag of tools on the ground and cock your hip out. 

“You never come see me in the garden unless it’s important or unless you want more cucumbers,” you call him out. “And seeing as how you just got a batch of cucumbers from me, I don’t think that’s what you’re here for.” You bring your hand to your forehead to shade your eyes so you can stop squinting at the setting sun and see him a little better. He’s leaning his shoulder up against the brick wall of the building, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. 

“I’ve got to cancel this weekend,” he says with a hint of regret. You can feel yourself start to deflate a little. “There’s an older gentleman in the support group who needs an escort upstate. I won’t be back until late Sunday.” 

“You would abandon me for something noble,” you accuse in a teasing manner. Lowering your hand from your face, you take a few steps towards him.  

This weekend was your annual ice cream fest, as you affectionately called it. Once a year, you gather as much ice cream as you can both handle and devour it like children at a sleepover. It had originated from early on; a drunken night in which you needed consoling. Steve thought ice cream seemed the perfect thing to help you out and it kind of just stuck. It’s something you look forward to every year now. 

“When are you leaving?” you ask.  

“Tonight,” he says, confirming there’s no hope for salvaging the weekend.  

“Well, shit.” You manage to say it in a somewhat humorous tone, trying to make it clear you aren’t angry with him for canceling.  

“We can binge next weekend,” he offers quickly. A couple more steps and you find yourself next to him, leaning your back up against the same wall, using his shadow as a shield from the sun as the rough brick scratches into your shoulders. 

“I don’t know if that’s going to cut it, Rogers,” you tease. “My broken heart isn’t so easily mended.” He cracks a smile and leans in closer to you. 

“What ever can I do to make it up to you?” he inquires in jest. He slips his hands out of his pockets and pushes his shoulder off the wall, coming into your personal space. You make a show of biting your lip and him-hawing as you roll your eyes upwards to look at the sky in mock thought. “You tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.” He’s using that tone suddenly; the dark and dirty one that threatens to undo you. He shifts so he’s in front of you, places each of his palms on the brick, one on each side of your waist. “Anything you want, babygirl.”  

Your eyes snap back to his and that lip bite you’ve been doing loses its falsity. Your pelvis inches off the wall, gravitating to him and causing you to actively pull it back. You’re so focused on your hips that you don’t catch your hand reaching out for him and taking hold of his sweater in the middle of his chest. You play it off with a laugh and unfurl your fingers free of the fabric, instead giving him a pat. 

“That’s just mean,” you chuckle. “Playing on a girl’s fantasy like that.” His lips tilt upwards and he leans ever so slightly into your touch when you don’t take it away immediately. 

“Well maybe one day we won’t be just playing with it.” You catch the look of longing in his eyes as your throat closes up and nearly chokes you on air. It’s taking everything you have not to melt into a fleshy puddle at his feet. You want to say yes, fucking beg him to make good on that, but you can barely breathe let alone speak. He reaches up with one hand and twists a small bundle of your stray hair around his fingers. “I miss you when I’m gone,” he says softly, the dirty tone gliding away and making way for something softer. 

“I miss you too.” Your voice is dry, a stark contrast to the way the skin on your throat is wet with sweat and heated with a blush. You swallow and try to speak a little more clearly, but he beats you to it. 

“We deserve to be happy too, you know.” It’s what he tells his support groups, the same line he’s been using for at least the last year and a half in order to help people move forward. And yet, it doesn’t sound rehearsed. You slip your hand from his chest up to his shoulder. 

“Do you really believe that?” There’s hesitation. A struggle. He sighs and it’s ragged. He twirls your hair a little more, distracted. 

“I’m trying to,” is his honest reply. It’s such an easy thing to tell other people, but to convince yourself when you were the ones fighting the battle, when you’re the ones who lost? The ones who got your best friends, your loved ones turned to ash? Not as easy to believe. “I want to believe it.” He leans down, rests his forehead on yours. “I’m ready to try at least.”  

It’s hard to focus. The setting sun is beating down on half your face, heating your skin and nearly blinding one of your eyes. The twirl of his fingers pulls so gently on your hair that it could practically lull you to sleep. At some point your hand had slipped up towards the back of his neck and you can feel the ends of the hair on the nape of his neck on your fingertips. Your hand itches to slide up over his head and pull him down to you. But when you close your eyes, you see Bucky’s disappointed face reflecting back to you. 

“Do you think he’d want us to be happy?” you whisper. Do you think he’d give his blessing for us to fuck? But no, that isn’t right. It’s more than that, isn’t it? It wouldn’t be a hookup. It wouldn’t be a one-time thing. It would be real. Is that supposed to make it better? There’s a long pause before he answers. 

“Does it really matter anymore?” A bitter and defeated chuckle follows his words. He’s tired. You can see it in his eyes. Tired of worrying about right and wrong. Tired of wanting and not having. Tired of not letting himself be happy. He’s so close and you want to give in, want to pull him down and press your lips to his and tell him to hell with everyone and everything. But you just can’t shake Bucky’s image from your mind. 

“Steve,” you pause, voice cracking. “I-” 

“I know,” he cuts you off gently and sighs pulling his head off of yours. He’s disappointed, but not surprised. “But if and when you’re ready, just know I’m here.” As he steps back, he lets his hand graze over your hip and it leaves a tingle in its wake. He leaves you with a smile and a promise to be back soon and it takes you quite a few minutes to get yourself off that brick wall and back to work. 

Tears silently fall down your face tonight, every molecule of you feeling torn. He’d broached the line, held out his hand and offered for you to go with him. If you’re honest, you never actually thought the day would come. Sure, you’d dreamed of it, yearned for it, but it was always so unreachable. And now he’d just… offered it to you. Yet he did it in such a way that you could ignore it. You could pretend it never happened and just stay as you are. The question is; do you want to? 

--- 

It’s weeks later and you’ve barely seen him. A mixture of work, personal responsibilities, and exhaustion making your schedules clash against each other. There’s been a couple phone calls, a few texts, and brief meetings with fellow teammates, but no one-on-one time appropriate to broach his proposal. 

It hasn’t stopped you from thinking about it, dreaming about it and then tearing yourself apart for doing so. Honestly though, your self-depreciation is starting to feel a little forced. There’s the smallest shift from feeling guilty for wanting Steve to feeling guilty for not feeling guilty. It still leaves the black hole in your stomach in the morning, but it’s different. 

You’re shuffling papers around in the office because, yes, paperwork does still matter, when Natasha comes in. You give her a smile as she sheds her jacket and comes to stand across from you, leaning her hands on the back of a chair. 

“Doing okay today?” she asks tentatively. You don’t even look up from the report you’re trying to read. 

“Yeah, but could someone teach Rocket some penmanship if he’s going to make notes on these?” It’s only partially a joke. You’re turning the paper in your hands and squinting your eyes trying to make sense of his chicken scratch. When you glance up, you expect to see a smile on her face, but there isn’t even a trace of one and her eyes are analyzing you. “Are you okay?” you question back. 

“Yeah,” There’s a look of subtle surprise on her face with a simple raise of her eyebrows as she straightens up and crosses her arms over her chest. “I guess I’m still just tiptoeing around some things. I thought today would be hard for you.” Your brow knits together. Today? Why would today be hard? Hell, what is today? It’s Wednesday. It’s summertime. It’s… Fuck. Your face drops. “You forgot, didn’t you?” It’s gentle and nonjudgmental. “That’s actually good,” she tries to reassure. “Moving on and whatnot.” 

You throw your face into your hands, dropping the reports on the table. You’re honestly not sure what you’re feeling. You forgot your anniversary. Your anniversary! You’d forgotten it plenty of times before and it wasn’t like it was your real anniversary either. You and Bucky had just picked a random date out of obligatory social construct after realizing you had no idea when you’d actually gotten together. After The Snap it hit you a little differently though with the last couple stinging you sharply and causing bad days. Not this year apparently.  

“I’m an awful girlfriend,” you groan through your palms.  

“Sweetie, I hate to break it to you,” Natasha offers softly, but with a small sense of humor hidden in her voice. “You’re not his girlfriend anymore.” 

You take a deep breath and it shakes. When you squeeze your eyes shut behind your hands, you can feel tears make their way through you. You use the heels of your palms to rub them away. She watches it hit you; the emotions, the guilt, the tearing apart and she walks around the table to put her hand on your shoulder. It’s a small touch but it’s friendly and grounding and it makes you feel more comfortable. 

“Maybe it’s time to let him go. Let them all go,” she suggests. “It’s been more than three years now.” Some days it doesn’t feel like it’s been that long. You bring your hands back to the papers on the table and pretend to watch them. “No one would blame you for moving on.” She gives your shoulder a squeeze before shifting away and leaning her lower back onto the table edge next to you. There’s a brief hesitation before she speaks again. “No one would judge you for who you moved on to either.” You look up sharply at her and she averts her eyes to the floor.  

“Are you implying something?” you sound a little angrier than you are. No one’s ever acknowledged this thing between you and Steve before, so the instinctive defense kicks in.  

“Look, it’s not like you two are subtle with the constant flirting.” She’s doing that thing she does where she’s giving you the answers straight, but her voice is soft. It works to help dissolve the anger. “Hell, there’s a bet going around on when you’ll finally hook up.” You’re not sure if you’re more embarrassed or humored by that piece of information. 

“Where’s Rocket’s bet at?” you ask, deciding to go with the humor. “I can’t let that little bastard win.” Natasha cracks a smile at you. 

“He’s running the betting pool so he actually wins it all if you don’t hook up.” She chuckles as you groan and lean back in your chair. 

“Well shit,” you say. “I guess I have to sleep with Steve now.” You both take a moment to laugh at the notion, letting any remaining tension about the conversation float away. When the smiles and the laughs settle, you give a small sigh. “I just feel like the worst person in the world,” you admit. “What kind of woman falls for the supposed love of her life’s best friend?”  

“There are worse things that a woman could do. Trust me.” Her words are true, but don’t do much to dull your pain. “It’s not fair to hold yourself to past commitments. We’ve gone through an unprecedented event. There’s not a rule book on what’s right and wrong here.” You peek up at her with a tilt of your head. 

“You sound like Steve at his support groups.” She squints her eyes and then cringes, bringing her shoulders up to her ears. 

“Oh god, I do, don’t I?” You both laugh again. “Alright, take out all the sentimental therapy bullshit,” she retracts with a smile as she drops her arms and pushes herself away from the table. “Just let yourself be happy.” She walks back around the table to grab her jacket off the chair. “Besides,” she adds before leaving. “Can’t let that raccoon win.” 

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers imagine #marvel #marvel imagine

[onyxiana-is-obsessed]

Can you do a request with Midoriya who has a girlfriend that struggles with her self image? Like she has this really pretty sister and she always compares herself to her and she can’t understand that she naturally has a bigger body so she stops eating to be pretty like her sister?

Hello! I hope I did your request justice! It was a bit hard for me to type and it’s a bit shorter than preferred! I hope you like it! Pronouns used: She/her Length: 1.1k

My friend ended up getting the same request! Here’s her version of it!

Pretty

It was hard to look in the mirror sometimes. Actually, all the time. (f/n) found it difficult to not hate the person staring back at her. She found it difficult to love what she had, why? It was all because of her sister. Her sister, (s/n), looked so much better than her. She had a slim waist, curves in all the right places, tiny, dainty hands, her hair, and skin were just flawless. She looked beautiful and (f/n) always felt so… uncomfortable next to her.

(s/n) was beautiful compared to (f/n), who always felt so out of place. (f/n) hated being in her own skin. Why couldn’t she be pretty like her sister? Why couldn’t she have that flawless skin, those cute little hands, that slim waist, the smaller figure? Why did she have to be the odd one out? Why did she need to be so ugly?

It was hard for (f/n) to deal with stuff like this. Whenever they’d get ready to go out, (s/n) looked so perfect. (f/n) felt like shit next to her, to be honest. People would often shower (s/n) in compliments, while (f/n) received little to none. Sure, her parents would compliment her, but that didn’t help much.

(f/n) finally had one good thing in her life, Izuku Midoriya. That boy was something else. He was so outgoing, loving, determined, and he was just something she needed in her life. For once, (f/n) had something (s/n) didn’t… but that didn’t last very long. As their relationship got longer, (f/n) started to feel unworthy of his love. She felt like she didn’t deserve it, because why would Izuku like someone like her, when he could have someone like (s/n), instead.

However, instead of telling Izuku, she decided to take matters into her own hands, mostly due to the fear of losing Izuku. She used more beauty products to help her skin, she tried working with her hair a bit more. She decided to lose weight in an attempt to look more like (s/n). Anything. Everything to be pretty like her sister.

Izuku hadn’t noticed at first, no one did. Every time (f/n) would skip a meal, she’d just lie and say she ate earlier or she wasn’t hungry. However, Izuku started to catch on and pretty quickly too. After seeing (f/n) repeatedly reject meals, he decided to ask her about it.

“(f/n)?” Her (e/c) met his green ones, making him frown a little. (f/n) had been much tired recently, she’d been sleeping more, she’d been more sluggish and sick too. He could see it all on her face, and she didn’t look ok. “Why haven’t you been eating?”

“I’m not hungry, I already told you.” She said, looking back down at her phone. Izuku knew better though and he was going to call her out on it.

“That’s not true. You never eat around me, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you eat a decent meal.”

“I’m just not hungry, there’s nothing wrong with that.” She defended herself, looking away from him a little. Izuku moved to her, taking her hand and gently placing a kiss on it.

“What’s really going through your head, baby?” She frowned, feeling the tears pool in her eyes. It was a sensitive topic and there were times where she didn’t even want to think about it. But Izuku… he deserved to know.

“I… want to be pretty like (s/n).” He almost didn’t hear her, but when the words registered in his mind, he frowned a little.

“What do you mean?” She sighed, desperately trying to hold her tears back.

“I want to be pretty like (s/n). I want to have hair like hers, a face like hers, I want to be thin like her… I just…” She paused as a tear slid down her cheek. “I just want to feel pretty.” Izuku couldn’t believe the words he was hearing. (f/n)… didn’t think she was pretty? Why not? She was beautiful in his eyes.

He took her by the shoulders, his emerald green eyes gazing into hers. He stared at her for a few moments, as the tears slid down before he gently wiped them away. Not that it helped, but he didn’t stop.

“You are beautiful.”

“Y-you’re lying…”

“Lying? Why would I lie to you?” He inquired, pushing her hair behind her ear. She weakly shrugged, looking down but he didn’t let her. He took her face into his hands and made her look up at him.

“I… I want to be pretty. So… I’m not eating.”

“Why do you think you not eating will help?”

“I get to be thin… like her.” It made sense. In an attempt to lose weight, (f/n) had decided to not eat at all. She had limited all the junk foods she possibly could but also chose to not eat any healthy foods. All she consumed was water. No wonder she’d be so sluggish and weak lately. Her body had no calories to burn for energy.

“Baby, that’s not healthy,” He started, taking her hands and kissing them. “Look at me. You are beautiful. You’re so goddamn beautiful. I love the way your eyes sparkle when someone compliments you, I love the way your cheeks turn red when you blush, I love the way your hands look, I love your hair, I love your body, every single little curve it has no matter where, and I love you.”

Izuku’s words had brought an immense amount of comfort to (f/n) and it was difficult to understand at first. Why now? Why did they make her feel better now? Was it because she also got the disgusting emotions off of her chest? Was it because Izuku finally saw the real reason she had for doing this to herself and targeted that?

It didn’t matter. In the end, she broke down crying and he was there to soothe her. He held her tightly as tears flowed down her cheeks, giving her every reason why he loved her.

That entire day, all Izuku did was compliment (f/n). The days following, he showered her in compliments, and for once, (f/n) didn’t need to compare herself to her sister. He’d gotten her to start eating again and every single time she had any demeaning thought about herself, she went to him. He would spend hours telling her the opposite, helping her feel better every single time.

#mha #mha imagines #mha deku #bnha #bnha deku #bnha midoriya #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #bnha izuku #izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #deku x reader

[path-of-my-childhood]

Taylor Swift Opens Up About Overcoming Struggle With Eating Disorder

By: Chris Willman for Variety Date: January 23rd 2020

Taylor Swift tells Variety more about "how unhealthy that's been for me - my relationship with food," a subject boldly broached in her Sundance documentary, "Miss Americana."

In the new Taylor Swift documentary, “Miss Americana,” which premiered at the Sundance Film Festival Thursday night, there’s a montage of derogatory commentary about the singer that has appeared on cable shows over the years. One of the less nasty remarks: “She’s too skinny. It bothers me.”

As it turns out, it eventually bothered Swift, too.

In one of the most revealing and surprising segments of the Netflix film, Swift talks for several minutes about having struggled in the past with an eating disorder.

After being pictured facing a phalanx of photographers after she emerges from her front door, Swift is heard in voiceover saying that “it’s not good for me to see pictures of myself every day.” Although she says “it’s only happened a few times, and I’m not in any way proud of it,” Swift admits there have been times in the past when she’s seen “a picture of me where I feel like I looked like my tummy was too big, or... someone said that I looked pregnant... and that’ll just trigger me to just starve a little bit - just stop eating.”

Swift elaborated on what she’s gone through with that in her interview with Variety for this week’s cover story, saying that it was difficult for her to speak up about it for the documentary.

“I didn’t know if I was going to feel comfortable with talking about body image and talking about the stuff I’ve gone through in terms of how unhealthy that’s been for me - my relationship with food and all that over the years,” she tells Variety. “But the way that Lana (Wilson, the film’s director) tells the story, it really makes sense. I’m not as articulate as I should be about this topic because there are so many people who could talk about it in a better way. But all I know is my own experience. And my relationship with food was exactly the same psychology that I applied to everything else in my life: If I was given a pat on the head, I registered that as good. If I was given a punishment, I registered that as bad.”

In the quiet of a hotel suite, she goes into greater detail on how formative an effect that one early tabloid torpedo had on her. “I remember how, when I was 18, that was the first time I was on the cover of a magazine,” she says. “And the headline was like ‘Pregnant at 18?’ And it was because I had worn something that made my lower stomach look not flat. So I just registered that as a punishment. And then I’d walk into a photo shoot and be in the dressing room and somebody who worked at a magazine would say, ‘Oh, wow, this is so amazing that you can fit into the sample sizes. Usually we have to make alterations to the dresses, but we can take them right off the runway and put them on you!’ And I looked at that as a pat on the head. You register that enough times, and you just start to accommodate everything towards praise and punishment, including your own body.”

She hesitates. “I think I’ve never really wanted to talk about that before, and I’m pretty uncomfortable talking about it now,” she says quietly. “But in the context of every other thing that I was doing or not doing in my life, I think it makes sense” to have it in the film, she says.

Wilson, the director, is proud of Swift for taking up the subject with such candor. “That’s one of my favorite sequences of the film,” she says. “I was surprised, of course. But I love how she’s kind of thinking out loud about it. And every woman will see themselves in that sequence. I just have no doubt.”

The filmmaker points out that there were clearly plenty of people who didn’t think Swift was too thin back in the mid-2010s. “You can also just not notice people being really skinny, because we’re all so accustomed to seeing women on magazine covers who are unhealthy-skinny, and that’s become normalized.” Even with non-celebrities, Wilson says, everybody’s a body critic. “It’s incessant, and I can say this as a woman: It’s amazing to me how people are constantly like ‘You look skinny’ or ‘You’ve gained weight.’ People you barely know say this to you. And it feels awful, and you can’t win either way. So I think it’s really brave to see someone who is a role model for so many girls and women be really honest about that. I think it will have a huge impact.”

As much as Swift may be seen as a role model for speaking frankly on the subject, she’s got her own favorite artist, so to speak, when it comes to advocacy for women’s bodily self-image issues.

“I love people like (actress and activist) Jameela Jamil, because she says things in a really articulate way,” the singer tells us. “The way she speaks about body image, it’s almost like she speaks in a hook. If you read her quotes about women and body image and aging and the way that women are treated in our industry and portrayed in the media, I swear the way she speaks is like lyrics, and it gets stuck in my head and it calms me down. Because women are held to such a ridiculous standard of beauty. We’re seeing so much on social media that makes us feel like we are less than, or we’re not what we should be, that you kind of need a mantra to repeat in your head when you start to have harmful or unhealthy thoughts. So she’s one of the people who, when I read what she says, it sticks with me and it helps me.”

In the film, then-and-now photos illustrate just how thin Swift had gotten during the “1989” era, versus the still svelte but healthier look she sported by the time she toured behind the “Reputation” album in 2018. Swift says that her under-eating in that earlier time severely affected her stamina on tour.

“I thought that I was supposed to feel like I was going to pass out at the end of a show, or in the middle of it,” she attests in the documentary. “Now I realize, no, if you eat food, have energy, get stronger, you can do all these shows and not feel (enervated).” Swift says she doesn’t care so much now if someone comments on a weight gain, and she’s reconciled “the fact that I’m a size 6 instead of a size double-zero.” Swift says she was completely unaware that anything was wrong in her double-zero era, and had a defense at the ready should it come up. If anyone expressed concern, she’d say, “‘What are you talking about? Of course I eat... I exercise a lot.’ And I did exercise a lot. But I wasn’t eating.”

Few women viewing the film will fail to nod their heads as Swift describes the impossibility of any body shape or size living up to all the standards for beauty. “If you’re thin enough, then you don’t have that ass that everybody wants,” she says in the film. “But if you have enough weight on you to have an ass, your stomach isn’t flat enough. It’s all just f—ing impossible.” As she became aware of the problem, Swift says in the film, it would cause her to “go into a real shame/hate spiral.”

The word “shame” comes up elsewhere in conversation with Swift, who by virtue of becoming one of the most celebrated women in the world has also had to deal with more catty comments than almost any celebrity in the world - and hasn’t always succeeded in shaking it all off.

“I was watching a Netflix Brené Brown special on shame, because I read a lot of her books, because I have dealings with shame every once in awhile,” Swift tells Variety. “She was saying something like, ‘It’s ridiculous to say “I don’t care what anyone thinks about me,” because that’s not possible. But you can decide whose opinions matter more and whose opinions you put more weight on.’ And I think that is really part of growing up, if you’re going to do it right. That’s part of hoping to find some sort of maturity and balance in your life.”

She continues, “I don’t expect anyone with a pop career to learn how to do that within the first 10 years. And I know that there’s a lot of bad stuff that’s gone on recently, a lot of really hard stuff my family is going through, and a lot of opposition and feeling pressure or suppression of one kind or another. But I am actually really happy. Because I pick and choose now, for the most part, what I care deeply about. And I think that’s made a huge difference.”

*** You can read other parts of Taylor’s interview with Variety here: Taylor Swift: No Longer ‘Polite at All Costs’ and How Midterm Elections Inspired Taylor Swift’s New Song, ‘Only the Young’

#another bonus part #taylor swift #interview #variety #sundance 2020 #Taylor Swift: Miss Americana #lover era #Lana Wilson #body image #tw: ed