#facing and fixing your flaws doesn't make you 'less yourself'

[mickedy]

I'd say Papyrus's biggest "flaw" is that he consistently underestimates people's capacity for harm, or overestimates his own capacity for good, maybe? Though it's not really him being simply naive, because he's aware of his choices, but i think he might have a bit too much faith in his ability to help others change. I could see him potentially being one of those people who get into a relationship with someone else to try and "fix" them despite the active disadvantages. i am saying this because i also tend to think like that

I might have worded it a bit poorly, of course each character has their own flaws but I regard each character's biggest flaw as the thing the game actively pushes against or presents as something the character needs to overcome.

Toriel, for example, is a very avoidant individual who is afraid of losing her children but won't actually take steps to confront or tackle her problems head on, because it is much easier to ignore them and create a life for herself in the Ruins where she can pretend everything is alright. By the end of the game she learns to be okay with vulnerability and uncertainty, and is able to let go of her fear and leave her hideaway in the Ruins for the first time in centuries.

Alphys is a character who deals with a lot of self loathing and doesn't reach out to anyone about it because she intrinsically assumes the people around her hate her as much as she hates herself. She goes out of her way to fabricate situations that make herself look better because she doesn't actually believe she can naturally be a person that someone would like and look up to. But by the end of the game she learns to be okay with reaching out to others for help even if she doesn't think she's deserving of it.

Etc, etc.

In Papyrus' case, his willingness to believe in others is never presented as a bad thing. No Mercy Papyrus is not in the wrong for thinking you can do better-- YOU'RE in the wrong for taking advantage of his vulnerability to kill him. There is a reason he's represented by the Integrity soul; he sticks to his guns in the face of danger and puts everything on the line to reach out a hand to you when nobody else would. He is the one character that goes against the "kill or be killed" mentality the game presents.

And of course there is an argument to be made about him being TOO trusting of others, like when Flowey manipulates Papyrus into getting everyone in one place so he can launch his attack. But that sort of loops back around to the previous point; Papyrus isn't portrayed as in the wrong for trusting Flowey-- but Flowey IS in the wrong for using Papyrus for his own purposes. When Undyne talks about Papyrus not being able to handle a Royal Guard title because his kindness would get him killed, we're not supposed to side with her.

This IS Undertale we're talking about. Papyrus doesn't go through an arc of learning to believe in others Less, because in the context of Undertale, it's not a bad trait for him to have.

Of course, things don't work exactly like that in the real world. Undertale is a fantasy game with fantasy rules where nobody was forced to die in the happy ending because of Magic and Friendship.

And in the real world, there ARE people who will take advantage of your kindness to hurt and abuse you. And putting yourself in a situation where you are constantly exerting yourself to extend an olive branch to someone who will keep hurting you regardless IS an unhealthy way to deal with these situations. (I mean-- not YOU specifically anon, more of a general royal You.) We all have different reactions to abuse and it is more nuanced than "be kind no matter what", of course.

But in the situations he was put in throughout Undertale, he never really made the objectively "wrong" choice when he decided to believe in the inherent goodness of people. Papyrus isn't fawning over an abuser, he's extending a hand to someone who, in his eyes, isn't aware of what they're doing. He KNOWS when a situation is dangerous and knows how to navigate it.

I guess what I'm getting at is, Undertale is not written for you to think it's okay that Papyrus put his trust in someone and got harmed because of it-- because Frisk isn't chastised for this, either. The game isn't written for you to think that Papyrus' hurt was somehow "deserved" because he was "too trusting". That it's somehow a little more justified to hurt him because he shouldn't have been such a pushover. Because, he's not a pushover. He's the only thing that pushes back against you when you decide to Kill or Be Killed. Yannow

[tirfpikachu]

this screenshot from another post actually really hit me hard

it's so true... they always do this. trying to make body dysphoria seem inherently worse than body dysmorphia is actually cruel. as someone who developed extremely severe body dysmorphia before dysphoria, i can tell you it's the #1 reason i started hating and harming myself and wanting to die at a young age. i would've 1000% gotten extreme facial plastic surgery to "fix" myself. and while for some it's their road to happiness, if i had it... it personally would've locked me into this fake version of myself, forever wearing a mask. and whenever i'd see someone looking like my past self, a haunting feeling would've come over me. and yet society was encouraging me to "fix" my perceived flaws. it was insanely normalized. it was seen as almost self-care, and a way to better my chances in life as a "prettier" woman. it really fucked me up. you CANNOT look me in the eyes and say shit like "women just want to xyz bc of beauty standards, it's not the same as my much worse severely debilitating dysphoria" without telling my younger self and other young girls that her life-threatening suffering wasn't bad enough, wasn't painful enough, wasn't as bad as anything a trans person goes through. it assumes so fucking much about dysmorphic people. don't brush us off so easily. don't put yourself as inherently in a worse situation when societal misogyny costs real lives. especially since for me, it came from initial bullying at a young age, like many other girls who hate their own bodies & faces. stop belittling our pain.

my dysphoria was very debilitating too, and made me a trans activist for life. but it did come with risks. i developed reverse dysphoria quite quickly after i started growing stubble, and now i'm stuck with that painful dysphoria until i can get expensive laser hair removal. if this is how transfems feel like about their own stubble, holy shit... i'm so fucking sorry. that's a truly horrible feeling. what i can tell you though, is that this is actually a cousin sensation to dysmorphia. dysmorphia & dysphoria aren't as separated as y'all might want them to be, which would make things must simpler ofc. but it's the feeling of visceral disgust, of your body not being good enough, not being you enough. that sucks to think about; we don't want to empower the transphobic crowd into thinking they can magically fix us all. and so, many activists and dysphoric people try to compensate by portraying them as experiences that are completely foreign to one another. as never being related or feeling similar at all, ever. but the thing is, as a previously chronically dysphoric & dysmorphic detrans chick, i can tell you first-hand that it doesn't help anyone to pretend that these aren't often comorbid disorders, and that they actually really do feel similar. and that's okay! no one should take all your treatment options away just because of that. that would be shitty, transphobic, and honestly ableist. but we gotta encourage ppl & their doctors to do due diligence (which my doctor and trans community didn't) and be open to everybody about the risk of regret, of reverse dysphoria, of things not working out the way we think they will. because all that at the very least makes detransitions less painful, even if you personally never detransition. detransitions can lead to very extreme self-hatred, and all the unfortunate consequences of self-hatred. it is a very vulnerable place to be in, and we want to prevent harm. more and more folks are detransitioning because of a lack of information and a focus on celebrating someone's transition early instead of giving proper information. the same should be done with dysmorphic folks - i am both a post-dysphoric and post-dysmorphic person. but many dysmorphic people cannot function without getting surgeries.

and while this is honestly tragic, as anyone needing to go under the knife at all is tragic in a sense... sometimes it is the only life-saving treatment option for the person. for me, i feel so fucking proud of my survival despite years of debilitating disgust at myself, my body and my face. both in a dysphoric and dysmorphic way. but i do not look down on anyone who did have to go through surgeries. i'm just happy to see them smile and feel good about themselves, honestly. but it is a bit bittersweet. how was it, before surgeries, to be dysphoric? to be dysmorphic? i want to read more stories from those eras. how did people find inner peace? did they, in the end? how many didn't survive? what did they have to say? i feel a strange sense of yearning, sometimes. heteropatriarchal society is really weird. it triggers dysmorphia in so many young girls & transmascs. it can also trigger temporary dysphoria in some people, and even permanent dysphoria. and just because certain societal things are a factor in your dysphoria doesn't mean you're lesser for it either - your suffering matters. just like dysmorphic suffering. hating yourself at all is so fucking painful. i wouldn't wish it on my worse enemy, or i'd at least strongly hesitate and they'd need to be an actual monster to deserve it. i love dysphoric & dysmorphic people so fucking much. i don't want us to fight eachother, or shame eachother for seeking treatments when things become too much for us to bear. we need to uplift one another. do everything we can to lessen these feelings in ourselves, of course, as a community of people who hate their bodies and place in society. but if someone chooses to cross over, to take hormones, to have surgeries... i just don't want them to regret it, that's all. and if they don't? if they're happy? i would hug them and breathe a sigh of relief as well. i'd feel bittersweet, almost nostalgic, because i've been there. people who haven't been severely dysphoric or dysmorphic don't fucking understand. hopefully they never will.

[daenysx]

Just one of those days when you feel ugly and you feel like you cant do anything about it but just cry. Aemond just loving on reader having one of these days

💓💓💓

thank you for this request, angel! i've been having these kind of days more often recently, it feels too relatable so it took less time to write. i hope you like this!

send me your requests for drabbles

you stand in front of the mirror in the bedroom, carefully inspect the image you see. your eyes move to look at your face clearly, your head leans into the mirror to see better. you look at your body, your hands on your waist as you frown and close your eyes with an exhausted exhale.

"i made us coffee, aren't you-" you hear aemond's voice, then his footsteps. "baby, what are you doing?" he asks, standing by the door.

you shake your head as if the action will help you get rid of your fresh tears. "nothing. nothing, i'll be there in a second."

aemond lifts an eyebrow, worried over the tone of your voice. you turn your back to him, your hands cover your eyes with a harsh movement. he steps into the room, holding you from behind as he tries to understand what happened.

"aemond, please. i'm fine, okay? nothing happened."

his hand holds yours as he tries to keep you from hurting yourself with your stiff fingers. "you're trying to stop yourself from crying, sweetheart. i'm sorry but this doesn't seem fine to me."

a quiet sob from you makes his heart clench with worry. he holds your body, tries to help you with your balance as you cry. "would you like to tell me why?" he asks with a gentle voice.

you point the mirror. "that's why." your voice comes out muffled and sad.

"i don't get it, baby, what's wrong with the mirror?"

you shake your head. "not the mirror. me. the way i look."

the puzzle pieces in his head become complete. he knows you feel uncomfortable about yourself once in a while. maybe something triggered the idea, maybe you made yourself think worse about the way you look. he takes a deep breath.

"you know, you don't have to try to comfort me. i can already see the truths. i'll feel better eventually, i know that too. it's not like i can do anything to change myself." you say.

he smiles, cups your cheeks with his hands to have an eye contact. "i just wish you could see yourself from my eyes."

"i'm not expecting you to have an objective opinion, aemond. it's just- the way i see myself. i don't like what i see."

he nods. "i can understand that, but there's no way for me to understand how you make yourself believe you look somehow bad."

you point the mirror again. "because it's right there! look at my eyes and how tired i look. i always look tired even when i sleep okay, i don't know how to fix my eyes. look at my posture, i just can't-"

aemond listens you rambling about yourself, every little flaw you see on the mirror. every little thing that makes you feel like you don't worth it. he lets you talk about them, never interrupts your thoughts. that's the hardest thing he does when your voice becomes shaky as you talk about yourself.

you keep telling him for minutes, the coffee he made for you long forgotten. you talk about everything, detailing every thought.

"is there anything else you want to tell me, hmm?" he asks when you stay silent.

you shrug. "i hope not, i already feel terrible."

he holds your hand and leads you to bed. he sits and pulls you on his lap, you try to settle down, feeling tired from your outburst.

he doesn't let go of your hand, kisses the back of it with affection. "do you want to hear my honest opinion?"

you nod. "please."

"i hate how unfair you are when you talk about yourself. i hate how you always focus on the good side of everyone else, but never the good things about yourself. i hate how you can manage to talk so low of what i love, what i admire everyday."

"aemond-"

"i'm not finished, sweetheart. i know it's hard to believe for you, because you've never seen yourself like i've seen you. i know you don't ever give yourself credit for your accomplishments. i know how you always crave the best, the most perfect. i just hate how you act so blind, so careless, so simple when it comes to yourself."

you bury your face to his neck. he keeps talking. "it's so easy for you to give your friends compliments, right? it's not hard when you say the most beautiful things to me, because you feel like it. you see the best of people, the best of me even in the times when i feel like i don't deserve it. you see me as someone worthy of your pretty words because that's how you perceive people. i just wish you'd do the same for yourself."

"it's not easy." you say. "i want to feel better about myself, but it's not easy."

he nods, his one hand holding yours as you play with his fingers and his other rubbing your back. "i know, baby. i also know you can do anything you want to. you are not alone in this. you'll never be alone in this."

"how can you promise? how can you be so certain?"

he smiles. "you don't believe me when i say i know my girl? i know you, i love you." he kisses your lips. "i love you."

"i love you, too."

he kisses you again. "you can have bad days. it can happen, there's nothing unusual about that. i just need you to be kind to yourself. hmm?"

you nod. "i can try."

another kiss on your forehead. "everything you just told me, everything you see as a flaw- they are just the things i love most about you, the things that make you special. i fall in love with every one of them, i admire them, i consider myself lucky because i can see them everyday."

he kisses you again as you hold his hand in yours like your life depends on it. "will you-will you help me feel better? i don't want to feel like this- i hate feeling like this." you say.

"of course i'll help you, sweetheart. i can't let my girl think badly of herself. you deserve the world. you are my world."

you feel a lot better and calmer as he talks to you with a soft, convincing voice. he rubs your back with a gentle hand, he lets you play with the rings on his fingers, he presses his lips on your earlobe and your neck.

"would you like to have a cup of coffee now? we can watch a movie, too."

you nod. "sounds good."

he never lets you go for the rest of the day, never lets you get in front of the mirror again, never lets go of your hand. he never lets you doubt yourself, he is always there with his lovely distractions and sweet words.

[vaztori]

would you dance with me?

SUMMARY; in the middle of a party, you are the one hansol is looking for.

FEATURING; chwe hansol x fem!reader

GENRE; fluff, comfort, a lil' bit angst, non-idol au, meet cute, strangers to lovers, and this fic also feels like hmm, modern royalty (?) basically just like how high-class people throw a party and yeah includes waltz dancing ! <3

WORD COUNT; 3.3 K

WARNINGS; mentions of insecurities, flaws, anxiety, and the reader isn't confident with herself, suggestive

NOTES FROM KALA; just imagine this fine man asks you to dance with him..

jeonride's masterlist / join the taglist here !

Your eyes stare straight into the brilliant mirror, clean of any stains and dust. Your body stands rigid, feeling every strap of the dress you're wearing being pulled by your maids- meant to tighten, to make your waist look slim. Your chest is tight because your mother told you to wear a special corset for the dress- she said it would make your breasts look better. Yet you don't feel any difference.

Tonight is your grandmother's 70th birthday. You even wonder at the prospect of living such a long life with endless wealth. It's not that you wish for her to die soon, no. But it's tiring to come to your grandmother's birthday party that is celebrated every year. It's not that your grandmother is bad or that she likes to talk bad about you with her friends, it's not.

It's because you know that whether or not you're at the party doesn't affect your grandmother's happiness.

You realize you're not beautiful.

You're not as pretty as your cousins and that's what makes you insecure. Even though your mom says you're beautiful as long as you take care of yourself, it's hard to accept that kind of opinion- or even praise, as it turns out. You're the one who feels that you're not pretty enough, even though other people say you are, you don't believe it. Back to you again, deep down inside you feel less beautiful and not worthy to come to a lively party filled with prestigious people, conglomerates, with their gorgeous faces. As a result, you are always alone in the corner of the ballroom. There is never, ever a gentleman to ask you to dance with him.

You don't feel that you're pathetic, though. You enjoy watching people dance with their respective partners. Embracing each other, stepping together, dancing the waltz gracefully with their eyes fixed on each other. Though you have to admit, sometimes you get lonely watching it all. How exciting it would be if there was a guy who would waste his precious time just to dance with you.

Your grandmother also prefers to talk about tea parties, new dresses by famous designers, and the most expensive wine to sip on the night of her birthday party with your other cousins. Your grandmother always said that she loved all her grandchildren equally. But it's you who feels it. And well, what you feel is different from her perspective. She laughs with your other cousins, stroking their chins and complimenting them on how pretty they are, while with you, she laughs at your stupid antics, calling you her most different grandchild. Her odd grandchild.

Like the dimmest star in the night sky.

"Please do not move too much, Miss." said one of your maids when you're squirming too much because the way she fastens the straps of your dress around your waist is too tight as if you are forbidden to run away from the party and you are sure if you insist on running away from the party, your breath would be taken away because your dress seems to be strangling the wearer's body.

Your mother, on the other hand, folds her arms across her chest, smiling with satisfaction as she sees her daughter looking beautiful with her makeup done. "You look beautiful, darling." she praises.

You exhale roughly, blowing the air upwards so that the stray hair covering your face is blown away, moving gently. "It's because of the make-up, mother."

"Well you're still beautiful, y/n. As long as you're confident."

"The problem is I don't feel confident."

Your mother waves her hand as if to say, 'enough, cut the crap I don't want to argue tonight.'

"Mother, can I not come-"

"Talk one more time and I'll make sure you don't get your evening snack again, y/n."

"Oh come on," you complain. Rolling your eyes in aversion. Your mom isn't too concerned about you being alone again tonight, just like at the previous parties.

One of the maids who has been adjusting the lace of your dress starts to put the 5cm heels on your feet. Her movements are gentle, that maid is indeed a trusted one, having served you since childhood. "Does it hurt, miss?" she asks. "Because I know your shoe size differs by one centimeter depending on the shoe brand. Does this one feel tight?"

You smile, returning the gaze of your maid who now looks up to gaze at you. "It doesn't hurt, it doesn't feel uncomfortably tight. Thank you for always looking out for my comfort."

The 40-year-old maid chuckles. "It's my job, miss. I'll be sad if you feel your feet hurting at the party. Because today your grandmother's birthday party is more festive than ever, she is entering her seventh decade! Can you imagine that?! She is blessed with a long life." Your maid sets the shoe on your bare left foot, slowly. "Therefore, I want you to be able to comfortably dance with a gentleman at this party, miss."

You are stunned. Swallowing your saliva, you are not sure if there is a gentleman who wants to dance with you even though your loved ones say you look as beautiful and perfect as a royal princess wearing a baby blue ball gown with white lace at the bottom and glittering white high heels.

Your maid strokes your shoulder gently, smiling in a way that you don't know how to define. But it's a warm smile.

"Trust me, miss. Tonight, there will be a man that will ask you to dance."

Arriving at the hotel where your grandmother's birthday is being celebrated, you are amazed by all the decorations. That's right, this time the party is more festive. Even at the parking lot, you can see many limousines lined up, neat and shiny like they have just been delivered from the car showroom.

Your mother gets out of the car first, handing the guard an invitation printed in gold as a sign of vvip member which means, part of your grandmother's family. You follow your mother behind, awkward enough as you are in the middle of the crowd now.

"Head up, darling. Don't keep your head down. Look around, try to greet whoever it is. And oh, don't forget to keep smiling!"

"Yes, mother. You said it so many times that I memorized it."

"Already memorized but not doing as I told you."

You remain silent, replying to your mother's words with a heavy sigh. Then you slowly walk the red velvet carpeted stairs that lead to the ballroom. Once inside, you are amazed again. There are glittering chandeliers, and cakes as tall as five meters, or even more. Gilded tables full of people eating cake and drinking wine, chocolate fondue, sweets, and of course, your grandmother's 70th birthday photo shoot displayed near the golden chair she's sitting on now. Your grandmother looks like she's on a throne. Her bleached hair is pulled up into a high bun, with a crown of pearls holding her long hair back. She wore a bright red dress, successfully capturing the attention of the man who seemed to be the same age as her, older to be more precise.

Your mother approaches your grandmother, carrying a large silver gift box with a black ribbon on it. They talked for a while, then when your grandmother finally turned to you, her face lit up.

"Hello, darling!" she greets you. "You look stunning tonight. I almost didn't even recognize you."

"Grandma, you're overreacting. It's all just because I'm wearing makeup."

"What's wrong with wearing makeup? As long as it makes you more beautiful then there's nothing wrong with it, right?"

You just shrugged your shoulders. Then your hand picks up a glass of wine brought by the waiter who is going back and forth while carrying a tray with many glasses on it.

"Grandma, happy 70th birthday. I hope you become more beautiful and always be healthy. Now, can I go home?"

Your mother glares, pinching your arm unseen by your grandmother which successfully makes you scowl.

"So you think I'm going to let you go home after that insincere birthday wish?" your grandmother shakes her head in disagreement. "Unfortunately, you can't go home as soon as usual. My friend's grandson wants to meet you tonight."

Huh?

You blink, your brows furrowed. Astonished by your grandmother's words. "Who?"

And your grandmother just flashed a smirk. "Ah, you'll find out later."

Then your grandmother claps her hands, drawing everyone's attention to her figure. She opens her birthday party with a short speech, ending with a toast. Everyone raises their glasses high, so you just do what they do even though it's awkward because there are more adult people at this party, mostly 35 years old and above. Well, they're all your grandmother's colleagues who come just because they don't want their relationship with her to suffer just because they didn't come to wish her a happy birthday and insincere wishes like your grandmother said just now. Their faces flash smiles with fake friendliness and somehow, you're sick of this kind of atmosphere. It's boring, full of two-faced people with tricks up their sleeves.

You quietly walk to the corner of the ballroom. Can't stand the pain of wearing heels. You aren't used to wearing them. You aren't used to wearing dresses, using makeup, or acting like a civilized princess, you just can't do it. You also feel dizzy because of how tight your bun is.

So when you reach the corner of the ballroom even though can't hide your 'had enough' expression because the entire ballroom is lit by chandeliers light, you take off your heels. Lifting your dress unconcernedly, you gently massage your calves that are starting to ache while your left-hand carries your pair of white heels. You've only been standing for a few minutes, but the soreness in your feet when wearing heels is more powerful than usual.

"Excuse me, miss. You shouldn't have lifted your dress like that," a man from nowhere, with gelled black hair, comes up to you and kneels in front of you to take down your dress that has been lifted to your knees.

You are surprised, of course. Especially because he kneeling in front of you like that. He could have managed to get a view of your panties- damn, this must be just one of those jerks pretending to be a gentleman.

"Stay away from me!" you say harshly, your foot moving to kick his wrist. "Don't pretend to be nice. I know you have devious intentions of peeking inside-"

"Wait, wait, pardon? Peek at what? I can't even see what's in there because your dress is covered in layers of lace skirts, miss." the man finally looked up, staring at you. Smiling, not looking angry even though you just kicked his wrist. You can stupidly feel your cheeks heating up just from looking at his handsome face and captivating brown eyes. "Does your leg hurt that bad, miss? Your face is flushed. Want me to help?"

Dumbass. You should control your heart beat now, that is unfortunately becoming faster and more noisy. You are worried he will be able to hear your heart racing.

Calm yourself down.

Do not fall for the beauty of a someone's face.

"I don't need your help, sir. Just mind your own business."

"Sir?" he laughs. "Just call me Hansol, y/n."

How does he know your name?

"I'm sorry but have we met before?"

He shakes his head. "This is the first time I have approached you just because, a young lady like you lifted her dress up to her knees without thinking further about her action."

You wave your hand, a habit that you got from your mother whenever you feel like you do not want to hear more about the topic you don't like to be involved with, "Okay? I said, just mind your own business, Hansol." maybe he knows your name from your grandmother or perhaps, this man is the grandson of your grandmother's friend?

His smile grows even wider as if he likes the way your tongue pronounces his name. "But you are the business itself. Came here because of you, miss."

Your head tilts to the side a little, "What do you mean?"

"You don't have a partner to dance?"

You shrugged. "Is that even important?"

"So it's a no?" he guessed it right. You never had a partner to dance. Not even just for one night.

"Yes, I don't have a partner to dance and why is that?"

"Then would you dance with me?"

Your eyebrows immediately furrowed. But your stomach certainly feels tingly, like a butterfly's wings are fluttering. Your heart beats faster. This is the first time you've heard such a request. The first time a man has asked you to dance with him.

"Wait. But why?"

This time, it is Hansol who looks confused. "Does there have to be a reason to dance with you? If so, then I would say, because I don't have a dance partner."

Oh.

So he's just an ordinary guy who doesn't have a dance partner, so he asked you to dance? Okay, you don't have to feel special then. But, is it possible? How come there's no one asks a good-looking and educated man like Hansol to dance?

"There are other women you can dance with, Hansol. You don't deserve a dance partner like me."

"Why are you talking like that? Why are you judging yourself when others can see the potential in you?"

You chuckle. "What potential? Hansol, I don't even look attractive. Like you said earlier, I don't think much before I do something. I even go barefoot now because I'm uncomfortable wearing heels."

"Then? I fail to see any problems with your appearance now." Hansol then smiles again. It is such a beautiful smile that you can see the wrinkles at the end of his eyes. Wow, he is the definition of a gorgeous man, looks to have a lot of money, an influential position, and is well-educated. Dangerous. At this moment, you think you will fall in love at first meeting.

"You look like a dream come true in my eyes."

Your face turns red. It's hot. You can feel your cheeks heating up to your ears. Who exactly is this guy? Hey, he caught you off-guard!

"What are you talking about, Hansol?"

"The waltz is about to start, you'd better agree to my offer."

"If I don't?"

Hansol chuckled. "Well, I've asked you anyway. I think I'm just going to pull you into the center of the ballroom."

"What? Wait-!"

Before you realize that Hansol's hand is gently tugging on your wrist, he has already led you to the middle of the ballroom. To the dance floor, to be more precise. "Hansol, but I'm not good at dancing!" you protest to him.

"That's okay, you can follow my footsteps, then."

"Hansol, I-" your gaze meets your grandmother's. And she just smiles at the sight of her odd and most different granddaughter finally being seen with a man to dance at her birthday party.

Then, the waltz music started. Your other cousins are already around you with their respective partners. They smile at you, happy that you are finally participating in the dance after all the parties your grandmother has organized.

"Hansol-"

"It's already started, y/n." he says. "Hold my hand, and put your other hand on my arm."

You finally obey Hansol's words as the waltz has started. Your body is a little stiff because you are nervous about the attention of the people around you. But Hansol succeeded in calming you down with his smile. His other hand is on your back while your right hand intertwines with his. You can feel how smooth and warm his hand is.

"Watch my steps carefully," he whispers. You start with a basic waltz box step, and you slowly follow his footsteps, unconsciously keeping your face down.

"Keep your head up, y/n. Follow my footsteps without actually looking at my feet."

You look up at him. Feeling a strange feeling as your gazes met. Your heart is beating fast now as if your chest could rip apart because of it. Your eyes glance around so you don't meet his eyes because you feel nervous.

"Eyes on me, young lady." Hansol reprimands.

You nervously return his gaze. But Hansol's gaze slowly lowers from staring at your eyes to your lips, certainly making you think of something else that manages to make your cheeks feel even hotter.

"You're doing great. Follow my count, okay? One, two, three... one, two, three. That's right," he compliments. You follow the count and Hansol's footsteps, matching the music.

"You're flushed." Hansol chuckles softly, lowering his voice as much as possible to not be heard by others because the ballroom situation is now really solemn. Everyone is dancing gracefully with their partners and if there are people who aren't dancing, they're watching with genuine smiles on their faces.

"Oh, shut up, Hansol."

The man notices the look on your face change. "Why? Is there something wrong?"

"I- I just feel... I don't deserve to dance with you, Hansol. There are many more beautiful women-"

"But I just want to dance with you," Hansol answers back with a definite intonation. His gaze implies sincerity in his words. "Stop talking like that, y/n. You are beautiful. You're beautiful inside and out and I like that."

"How can you say that? You sound like you've known me for a long time, Hansol." You laugh, finally revealing your genuine smile to him. And that makes Hansol stunned because god, to him your smile is so lovely and charming.

"Because I... have liked you for a long time but didn't have the courage to say it. I've only been watching you from afar, y/n."

You remain silent. Feeling surprised. Your eyes widen, looking at Hansol to see if he meant what he just said. But seeing Hansol's attitude who immediately looks away with reddened ears, it seems like he meant what he said to you.

"I... I like you, y/n. So stop judging yourself because really, you are enough. I'm sad if you feel less beautiful than other women. You have no idea how beautiful you are in my eyes."

With his gentle attitude and words that sound so sincere,

Oh, y/n.

You fall in love with him.

Falling for the man you just met because of his sincerity towards you. Falling for the first man who asked you to dance.

It makes you remember what your grandmother told you when you were little, "Keep dancing even if you're alone, darling. Keep dancing until you find your partner to dance with,"

And you found him.

© jeonride 2023. All rights reserved. Please do not copy, translate, plagiarize, or repost any of my writing anywhere!

[daydreamgoddess14]

Taglist: @theskytraveler @moonmaiden1996 @acrackintheteacup @succulentthief

Masterlist

Chapter 1

Warnings: *I want to be super clear on warnings so this might give away a handful of spoilers* Mentions & depictions of DV (not graphic or laboured), minor mentions of SV (not dubcon or rape, more like coercion and 'feeling obligated'), stalking, impact of all of this shit on a child, OFC is a single mother so there are depictions of motherhood. My inbox is open if you have any questions or want to talk 😘

Thank you so much for all the love so far! I had a feeling before the finale that this could be a great companion to Season 4, and I was right! Really, really hope you're enjoying it - I'd love to hear from you if you are!

The Escape Artist - Chapter 2

River Cartwright had reached the end of an equally challenging six months. Louisa placed a beer bottle down on the table in front of him and clinked the neck of hers against it. 

��You're drinking less.” 

“Hmm. Yeah, trying to.”

“Good. Catherine was one more bottle away from a full intervention.”

“I wasn’t that bad,” he claimed weakly.

“Yeah Riv, you were.” She told him sadly. He didn’t meet her eyes, though at least the pity in them had lessened over the last few months.

“Cole seems to be coming out of her shell a bit.”

“Lamb’s taken a shine to her.”

“He’s a softy really.” River scoffed at Louisa’s comment. “He is. He was worried about you.”

“Right, course he was.”

“Fine, don’t believe me.” She shrugged. “It’s not until the shit hits the fan that we realise that we do actually like each other. If only a little bit.”

“Speak for yourself,” he knew she was right. He’d seen it himself when Lamb had summoned him to the pub. Underneath the biting remarks and veil of sarcasm was the backbone of Slough House. The reason none of them, despite their claims otherwise, actually tried or wanted to leave. Unless it was in a box. They all remained unwaveringly at his side. His treatment of Ella was a little more revealing though, similar in a lot of ways to his high regard of Louisa. Above all, regardless of their flaws - and there were many, many flaws - Lamb protected his Joe’s and though he’d never admit it, he cared for them.

“Want to know what I think?” She demanded, leaning forward on her arms to get in his face.

“I think you’re going to tell me anyway.”

“I am. You’re angry, I get it,” he rolled his eyes and tried to move back in his seat away from her fixed gaze. “I do. I’m angry too, every fucking day. But River, you have to live. You have to allow yourself to have a life and friends - even if it’s just the dickheads we work with. Otherwise, what’s the fucking point?” She sighed, her shoulders dropping. “Just… just stop sodding drowning in this anger and loneliness and let us in. It doesn't matter who your father is, or what your mum did. It matters how you were raised, that's why you feel so guilty for putting him in a home.” Her voice cracked and he finally looked back up. “I won’t let you do this to yourself. He's OK, he's safe there and he will forgive you, got it?” He nodded silently and she slumped back in her seat. “Good. God, you’re such a knob.”

“Thanks.” He picked at the label on his bottle, “what do you make of Cole then?”

“She’s good, very good. Whatever happened at the Park must’ve been big to get her sent to Lamb.”

“I think someone’s following her.” He said quietly. Louisa frowned and leaned in again.

“Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure.” River had lost track of the number of times he’d seen the figure at the bus stop. A cold shudder ran down his back as he recalled Jed and his bus stop watching ways. London was packed to the hilt with commuters, the man could be anyone he’d reasoned initially. But then, he couldn’t help but notice him every single time.

“Shit. Have you told her?”

“And say what? ‘Don’t want to freak you out, but I think you’ve got a stalker’?”

“Could be someone from the Park? You need to find out more about her.”

“Me? He baulked, “why not you?”

“You share an office with her. Be friendly.”

“I am friendly,” he grumbled into his beer bottle. 

“Be nicer. Give her those big eyes and cute smile. You never know, it might be a cure for loneliness.”

“Thanks for that,” he responded, mildly offended.

“I do mean it though, if you’ve noticed someone then we should keep an eye out.”

“Yeah, yeah we should. Think we should tell Lamb?”

“Probably better telling Cole first?” Louisa reasoned, sinking her beer.

*

“Earth to Cartwright?” He tore himself from the window to see Ella with her arms above her head trying to get a box of files down from the high shelf he’d put them on. “Any danger of you actually helping?” She’d leaned her whole body into the filing cabinets to stop the box from falling on her head, her voice muffled from leaning on her arms.

“Fuck, yes,” he dashed forward and reached from behind her to grab the box, squashing her further into the cabinet as he did so.

“Ouch, thanks?”

“Sorry, sorry.” He dumped the box on her desk.

“Cheers. Right, I need a coffee before I get started on that lot. Want one?” He dug around in his pocket and handed her a tenner, “I’ve got these,” she told him, pulling on a jacket.

“No, go on.”

“Cartwright, it’s fine, really.” She glared at him, ignoring the money. She had seemed better recently, he thought as he heard Shirley reeling off an order from the next room. As he heard the bottom door slam, he took up his spot by the window again and watched as the man at the bus stop started to follow Ella down the street. He hadn’t had a chance to tell her yet, he’d pointed the man out to Louisa though, who was also on alert. His phone pinged in his pocket, a message from Louisa who was clearly also wasting time at the window.

He’s followed her to the shop, we have to tell her.

Ella came back twenty minutes later with a cardboard tray of four coffees and a bag of doughnuts.

“My fucking hero.” Shirley cooed. Ella nudged hers and River's door open with her hip.

“Everything ok?” He asked as soon as she was in the room.

“Thanks for the coffee, Ella?” She filled in for him.

“Thank you. Is everything ok?” 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” She frowned, sliding the tray onto his desk.

“Just… anything weird going on?”

“Apart from you?” He huffed. “No, Cartwright. I went five minutes down the road, ordered four coffees and a bag of doughnuts and then I came back. Nothing weird. Why?”

“I think someone’s following you.” He spat out quickly. Her eyes widened and the coffees nearly went flying as she rushed to the window.

“What makes you say that?” She asked, the fear in her voice evident. He watched her frantically glancing at the street below, taking in the faces of everyone milling around. Louisa had followed Ella and remained in the doorway. She scowled at River,

“Ever heard of tact, Cartwright?”

“You told me to tell her,” he said defensively and then turned back to Ella. “I thought I saw someone as you went to the coffee shop.”

“Are they down there now?” She demanded. When she realised he was nowhere near the window she stalked back across the room to him and pulled him by the wrist. “Look, are they down there? How long have you both known?”

“Cole, what’s going on?” Louisa asked carefully, making her way to the window.

“One of you tell me now, is he there?” she hadn’t let go of River’s wrist. “Please?” He scanned the street, the usual bus stop, Louisa peered over Ella’s shoulder to take a look as well.

“No. No they’re not there now. It must have just been a coincidence.” He tried to sound reassuring.

“I can’t see anyone either.” Louisa confirmed.

“You’re fucking spies? Cartwright, if you think you saw someone then you saw someone, right?” She dropped his hand and brought her own up to her mouth and heaved. “Fuck, I’m gonna -” she bolted through the door to the bathroom. 

“I don’t do puke, I’ll leave you to it. Since you’re doing so well at all of this,” Louisa waved a hand around disdainfully. 

“Thanks a lot, real helpful.” He muttered. He left Ella alone until the sounds of her retching had passed, then knocked gently on the door. 

“Got you some water?” The door unlocked and opened enough for him to hand her the bottle. “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m ok. Thank you for the water,” her voice trembled.

“Is there anything I can do? I can get Louisa back?”

“No. No, there’s nothing either of you can do.” He took a seat with his back against the wall and waited, the door still closed between them. “You can go now,” she told him in a small voice. He didn’t move. When she finally opened the door, she nearly tripped over him. “Thought I told you to leave me?” She muttered furiously, a small hiccup giving away the fact that she’d been crying. She pushed past him to her desk where she retrieved a packet of chewing gum and shoved a couple of pieces into her mouth.

“Wanted to make sure. You know, you can let me know if -”

“Where the fuck are dumb and dumber?” Lamb’s bellow filled the corridors.

“Wonder who he means?” River asked aloud.

“Cartwright, I mean you and Cole. Arses up here now.”

“Now you know,” she shrugged. “You're dumber, by the way.” She pushed open Lamb’s door timidly and he looked at her for a long minute without a word. She brushed her hands over her cheeks, self consciously getting rid of any tears still visible. It took River clearing his throat for him to shift his attention.

“I want the pair of you to take these files to Molly.” He pointed to two wheeled boxes by his door. “Cartwright, get them downstairs. Cole, sit.” Once River had moved the boxes to the top of the stairs, he turned back to Ella. “Alright?” River heard him ask. 

“Yeah, think so.”

“Think? Don’t do too much of that. You’ll get an aneurysm.”

“I can only dream of such a happy ending,” she muttered.

“I’m serious, you’re not bringing shit to my door are you?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Good, now fuck off before Cartwright gets lost on the stairs.”

“You give him too much credit.” Ella smiled at Lamb’s booming laugh as she left.

“How do you make him laugh?” River asked dismally.

“Told you, he likes me.” Between them, they got the boxes to the entry door and then onwards down the metal stairs and into the street. Neither of them acknowledged that they were both on high alert looking out for whoever River had seen. She felt him tense next to her and startled at the faintest graze of his hand in the small of her back.

“3 o’clock,” he muttered. She looked left. “That’s 9. Do you need a watch?”

“Do you need a slap?” She looked right instead.

“Green cap, blue jacket.” She didn’t acknowledge him. “Well?”

“No idea.”

“No idea what? Do you see him?”

“Is that who you -”

“What do you mean no idea?” He demanded.

“I mean I have no idea who he is. Is that who you’ve seen?” He nodded brusquely. “I don’t know him.” She confirmed confidently. Ella spotted a bus pulling up ahead and for the second time that day grabbed River’s wrist and pulled him with her. “C’mon, I’m not walking for an hour.” They wedged onto the packed bus, just about finding two seats together with enough space to squeeze the boxes in front of them. Their knees bumped together in motion with the bus all the way to Waterloo. With his thigh pressed against hers and his arm around the back of her seat to give them both some extra space, River felt Ella relax. He tried not to think about how comforting it felt to have another person leaning into him. He especially tried not to think about the twinkle he’d only recently started to see in her eyes. At Waterloo, he made her get off the bus and walk the rest of the way, across the bridge and down Millbank to the imposing Thames House building. Molly welcomed them quite literally with open arms.

“Ella Cole! My god, you look…”

“Terrible?”

“I do have some manners,” she scolded Ella. “But you are looking a little on the pasty side. How are you?”

“Doing better, thank you.” Ella glanced briefly at River who pretended to not be listening. Molly’s eyes twinkled in understanding.

“Good. It’s good to see you.”

“You too. How’s the lair?”

“Just call me batman, darling.” She swiftly turned her attention to River. “And you're looking better since I last saw you.” 

“Yeah. Molly, I wanted to apologise -”

“Don't you dare. It's not your place to apologise on behalf of that man, you did nothing wrong.”

“Lamb told you?” He guessed. 

“They fuck you up, your mum and dad. They may not mean to, but they do. They fill you with the faults they had, and add some extra, just for you,” she quoted. River stared after her as she turned her chair in the direction of the stacks. “Come on then you two.” She gave very strict instructions on which files to put where, putting them to good use. “Be a dear, Cartwright, and take these down to the last aisle please?” He blanched at the request but gathered up the files and took them to the furthest end of the room. “He’s a good lad really.”

“He’s not so bad.” Ella mused, putting her own files into much closer aisles. 

“Come back soon,” she ordered them as they stepped back into the lift to leave.

“Bye Mol, see you again.” River offered her a genuine smile which she returned. “She seems to like you. They all do.” He said to Ella as the lift closed. 

“I’m nice, not grumpy all the time.” 

“Are you… you barely said a word for six months? Are you for real?” He stared in disbelief.

“I just needed to settle in.” She shrugged.

“Yeah, and now I can’t get you to shut up.”

“Why do you have to be such a dickhead?” She nudged him with her shoulder, a smile pulling at her mouth.

“C’mon, I’ll get you a coffee to make up for the one you didn’t get to drink earlier.” They queued up at a coffee van at the side of the Thames. Ella, to River’s disgust emptied two sachets of sugar into hers.

“I need some sugar,” she explained as her phone rang in her pocket. “Back in a sec.” She moved away, over to the railings, and paced while she spoke on the phone. River watched the tension in her shoulders increase by the second. She seemed to close in on herself before his eyes and as she made her way back to the bench, she looked like an entirely different person.

“What is it?” She ignored him, picking up her coffee which shook in her hands. “Ella?” He asked quietly. She sighed at the sound of her first name falling from his mouth.

“It’s nothing.”

“Liar.” She glanced around the people nearby and then back at him.

“Apparently the bloke in the green cap is someone I should know.” 

“How’d you mean?” River frowned. He watched her shutdown, her good humour and the twinkle in her eye disappear.

“I can’t,” she looked around furtively. Almost fearfully. “I can’t explain. It’s complicated.” He recognised the walls immediately, identical to the ones he’d built. She got up from the bench and hovered impatiently, waiting for him. “Can we go now?” He followed her diligently as she marched back across the bridge to Waterloo and straight onto a waiting bus. She was more closed in on the journey back, he could see her recoiling away from him. She held her body taut so her leg didn’t brush against his. Outside Slough House, green cap, blue jacket stepped across them.

“Mrs Cole. I’m Danny, can I talk to you for a moment please?” He looked River up and down, “alone.” He added. 

“He said he'd sent you.” She said wearily, correcting her posture and standing straight.

“He called you. I'm glad he did. But this isn’t a conversation for your friend to hear,” he must have noted the fear in Ella’s eyes. “You’re perfectly safe Mrs Cole. He’d never want any harm to come to you.” She nodded once and turned to River.

“It’s ok Cartwright, I’ll be up in a few minutes.” She told him firmly, he went to protest but she gave a tiny shake of her head. He did as she asked and turned to leave. Green cap, blue jacket took her elbow firmly and half dragged her into the nearest cafe. River waited out of sight in the doorway of the Chinese where he had a direct view of Ella in between the menus and posters stuck to the window. He had no intention of leaving, as she’d requested. She had her head in her hands and when she looked up at the man, he could tell she’d been crying. She shook her head, clearly responding ‘no’ to something she’d been asked but the longer River watched, the more hesitant she appeared. As the conversation looked to be wrapping up, River went to wait at the bottom of the stairs. When Ella rounded the corner and spotted him, she sighed. “What are you doing?”

“Thought I should stick around, in case you were in trouble?” He told her earnestly.

“I don’t need protecting, Cartwright.”

“Want to explain why some bloke who’s been stalking you just wanted a quick chat then?”

“Not really.”

“C’mon, Cole. Something’s going on. You’re married, for one? And the phone call?” She brushed past him and headed up the stairs, leaving him to follow behind. She was scrambling around her desk, throwing her notebook, phone and anything else she needed into her bag like a woman possessed. “Cole, just stop a minute -” she went to dart past him between his desk and the filing cabinets when his hand came down on top, blocking her path. She flinched immediately, almost cowering from him, and suddenly it all clicked into place. He recalled every time she'd curled inward at raised voices in the office, the way she startled and jumped every time he - or anyone - was in her personal space, the eggshells she constantly seemed to be treading on. “Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't know -”

“You don't know anything. Whatever you're thinking, you're wrong.”

“Am I? Then why do you look so scared?” He moved his arm, clearing her escape route. “Ella,” he said softly, “I'm not going to hurt you. I never would.” She looked up from her feet, he could see the shame and embarrassment blooming on her cheeks. “Talk to me?” She shook her head adamantly. 

“I can't. I can't, I have to keep Clo safe. You don't understand,”

“Help me, then?” She closed her eyes, he imagined her weighing up in her mind the pros and cons of telling him. “Please, Ella? I’ve been fucking shit around here for six months, I’ve been the shittest person to share an office with and I know, I know you have no reason to trust me or believe me. But I want to help you?” He pleaded.

“He's the reason I'm here,” she whispered, tearfully.

“Green cap?” 

“No, he’s just an… associate. He was sent by my ex, Clover’s dad.”

“What happened?” 

“I covered for him. Got the Park off him when they started looking into him.”

“Fuck, El,” he dragged a hand over his face. 

“Don't, don't be nice to me. I don't deserve it. I chose to be part of it, I fucked up and Taverner found out. She sent me here.”

“They didn't arrest you?” She dropped into his office chair, unprepared for the missing wheel, and nearly tipped the whole thing over. River steadied her quickly and sank onto his knees before her. 

“Dad's a copper. They made it go away, sent me here. I haven't seen him for years, he's never even met Clo. I didn't know Taverner had contacted him til they were kicking me out.” Ella put her head in her hands and sighed. “I met him when I was seventeen. Ran away with him, he was older - in his late twenties. He covered up his work for years, I didn't know about any of it. I got a low level job at the Park and he told me to go for it because he knew in the long run it would benefit him in some way. Then he got more and more controlling and involved me in his work, and by then it was too late to get out. I was pregnant with Clo, I had nowhere to go.” Her voice shook, “he'd have killed me. So I just carried on playing the dutiful gangland wife until he got caught and there was only so much of his shit I could hide.” 

“Fuck me. How'd you get out?”

“They got him on a minor charge, something really stupid, and he went to prison. I got away as soon as he went down. But it's not enough,” she rolled her eyes, “he was always going to find me. I just hoped I'd have longer to come up with a plan.” 

“Is that what green cap wanted?”

“To tell me he's out tomorrow and wants to see me,” she nodded. “No doubt wants us back together. He won't let Clo go without a fight, he told me he'd call social services and tell them I drink and take coke around her. If he can't have her, he won't let me.” She rubbed her forearm absentmindedly and River noticed a small scar. She saw him looking and pulled her sleeves down, he hadn't noticed how close they were, she'd leaned towards him on her elbows and he'd raised up on his knees to maintain eye contact with her. She looked away, blushing. “Sorry, I shouldn't have dragged you into this.” He cleared his throat and sat back on his heels.

“I'm glad you told me,” he said sincerely. “What can I do?” 

“Nothing. I’m serious, you can’t do anything about this. I just need you to keep it quiet. The best I can do is try not to bring any shit to Lamb’s door.”

“He knows?” He thought back to the conversation he’d overheard earlier.

“He knows some stuff, same as you.”

“Will he hurt you?” He asked quietly through gritted teeth. Ella hesitated, refusing to meet his eyes. “He will, won't he?”

“Nah,” she tried to sound convincing. “He'll be fine. He'll understand why I left.” She assured him. When she looked at him again, the walls were firmly back in place and she was back on her guard. 

“Ella -” she waved a hand to interrupt him. 

“It's going to be fine, really. Thank you, River.” 

“That's the first time you've called me River.”

“I'm sure it's not,” she brushed off. 

“It is. It definitely is.”

“First and last time then,” she said with a small smile. 

“Hopefully not.” He got to his feet, his ankle clicking painfully as he did. “Ow, fuck.”

“Must be all that running you're so good at.”

“Funny, very funny.”

“I need to go.” 

“Will you be back?” He asked curiously. 

“Course I will,” she nodded firmly. “Slow horses couldn’t keep me away,” she told him, rolling her eyes. He wasn’t sure he believed her.

*

Unsurprisingly, Lamb was already in the pub. Fresh from a marginally less stressful visit to the home, River slid onto the barstool next to him, as had become their routine over the last seven months.

“Old bastard still alive?”

“For another day at least. I did get a bit less shit from him this time though.”

“Maybe he’s starting to enjoy those sponge baths.” Lamb teased. River grimaced into his glass.

“Gross, please don’t say shit like that.”

“Molly alright?”

“You told her about Frank?”

“I tell her a lot of stuff. She’s one of the good ones.” River hummed in agreement.

“I’ve found some things out today,” he started, keeping his intentions vague. “Some things I think you also know? About Cole.”

“Ahh yes. Our little gangland belle. She told you, did she?”

“We met an associate of her ex. Apparently he’s getting out tomorrow, he wants to see her.”

“I’m sure he does. He’ll want to know what she’s been up to while he’s been inside.”

“What can we do?”

“Nothing, Cartwright. We can’t do anything unless she asks us to.” They drank in silence, River raised his hand to request another round. ”Keep an eye on her though, eh?” Lamb added, River nodded.

“Will do.”

Chapter 3

[transgenderdoctorwhomst-old]

In Mr clever absorbing 11s mannerisms and emotions, which I just love the irony of that, I do wonder if it makes Clever & the doctor blended in a way where you can sorta tell who's who but the lines pretty blurred at this point. I wonder if it's blurred enough that a regeneration wouldn't even fully fix it.

I wonder if his mannerisms would be a little off, maybe to show to a point that at first Mr clever isn't used to a more humanoid body vs hydraulic or whatever the cybermen use, but as time goes on he learns to blend and gets used to movements and how to 'act' human.

I have a lot of thoughts but like not very in depth so I'ma be jumping around a bit.

But I am enjoying imagining just what would be the 'who is that' moment for different companions rn and how weird it would be for previous companions to see how the doctor is acting now. The yeah he acts about 80% like the doctor but there's a lot of little tipping points like you said that sort of point to something else.

Do you think we'd see a sort of return of timelord victorious with the planner? Maybe thinking he can bring the cyber empire into power using the tardis, either by changing history directly or a domino effect.

Idk, but I'd love to hear your thoughts <3

if the cyberplanner gets in the tardis, he is ABSOLUTELY pulling a time lord victorious. even if the cyberman amusement park planet is blown up, he'd definitely get to work on setting up a new army and figuring out what events he could change without accidentally deleting himself from existence. and he'd have to be keeping an eye on not changing his own timeline or the doctor's timeline, which is probably the only thing stopping him from going back and immediately changing every single loss the cybermen have ever faced. cant very well bring back the cyberiad empire if you blow up yourself and half a galaxy because of a paradox!

everyone will be very lucky the cyberplanner has the major flaw for a cyberman, of having an ego and feelings and potential for doubt. and also a flesh body that needs rest. and is constantly fighting with the doctor for control. and a tardis that doesn't always like to cooperate. because it would be an absolute nightmare for everyone else otherwise. any kind of evil doctor is an absolute force to be reckoned with.

for body movements, he seems to mirror 11, using his preexisting muscle memory, but i think over time he would make efforts to try and rewire it into more, you know, still and calm. less of 11's spinning around and waving his hands around and large gesturing. which is very odd to see on 11, because he's very active and needs to be constantly stimming. just some real uncanny valley shit.

we see they act similar enough that clara does feel the need to ask and can't tell just by looking, so long as the cyberplanner doesnt majorly fuck up an assumption about 11's behaviour. i think he would try to learn how to mimic the doctor, because it's useful if he can run around calling in any favors owed to the doctor. he just cant resist the urge to be a mean little shit to people, much more than the doctor usually is. (and 11 can be a mean little shit).

he does have the tell that he talks in a lower, more gravelly voice than the doctor, though. like he's trying to replicate the modulated cyberman voices. which is fun and definitely not something the cyberplanner is doing on purpose, i think it just sounds more correct to him.

i have no idea how a regeneration would affect, but considering 11 doesn't actually have any regenerations left until gallifrey gives him a new cycle, who knows when 11 might get the chance to try. the cybermen need physical parts installed though, so there's probably still some physical component wired inside his brain that could be burned out. the problem is not killing the doctor in the process.

[foreverlookingatyou]

In regards to your post about Marcy’s arc, if your right-that marcy got nothing out of her time in amphibia-shouldn’t she hate the place, or at least not want to be associated with it?

Plus, why would she take a career that allows her to engage in escapism and is probably not what her parents wanted, when her whole are is about escapism being bad and that she needs to obey her parents.

first ask!! aaaa!! excitement noises

for your first point-- I think marcy has a lot of conflicting feeling towards amphibia, and towards her own experiences in it. and I want to correct my words-- I do think marcy got something out of amphibia, but it was absolutely NOT what she was looking for, nor did it benefit her or her overall growth in the way that it did for anne and sasha. amphibia showed marcy that her actions have consequences-- brutal consequences. it gave her the step she needed to confront her major flaw of being unable to let go-- which manifested in her always running away. amphibia was where marcy learned that you do eventually have to let go of some things. life does not always go the way you want it to, unfortunately. marcy had to face the things she was running away from in order for her to properly move forward.

also, at the end of the series, marcy learned that she will never truly be alone-- anne and sasha will be there for as long as they are able to-- whether that's in person, in spirit, or through phone calls + the internet. marcy needed the reassurance of their love, that they do care about her, in order to take that extra push and go home with them. does that contradict the whole theme of letting go? perhaps, but learning to let go doesn't mean that you have to let go of everything-- it just means that you have to come to terms with the fact that things will come in and out of your life sometimes. it also doesn't make what you had less real-- in fact, it makes it that much more special. because you're acknowledging the fact it existed, and that you truly cherished the time that you spent with them. THAT'S what marcy learned. her true arc was not that escapism is bad, but more so that you can not run away from certain things. not without bringing yourself (and the people around you) a world of bad. once she realized that anne and sasha are not leaving-- not in the way that she thinks-- that's how she was able to let go. and that's how their friendship can still exist and still grow even after years of on-and-off contact after the move. *** as for her career, the girls likely coped with their experiences-- both good and bad-- in different ways. you can also see how their experiences in amphibia shaped the people they are now. sasha became a child psychologist. anne became a herpetologist. marcy became a comic artist.. not because she's still engaging in the same kind of escapism, but because she's using that escapism as a healthy outlet. no longer is marcy running away-- rather, she's taking charge of her own life and doing the things that SHE wants to do. you have to remember-- escapism as a concept isn't bad, per say. escapism only becomes unhealthy when it hinders your own life, or negatively impacts the people around you. we all indulge in a form of escapism from time to time in some way, shape, or form-- our favorite books, movies, TV shows, etc etc. even though marcy's still getting lost in fantasy worlds-- they're ones that she creates, and not because she's trying to run away from anything, rather, fantasy worlds and creativity have always been a part of who marcy wu is. amphibia wasn't marcy's first taste of escapism-- nor was it the last-- it was just the most unhealthy and prominent one. and marcy likely worked on fixing her relationship with fantasy and figuring out the limits of her escapist tendencies. especially when it becomes necessary to ground yourself back to reality. marcy has always gotten lost in fantasy worlds-- it's a core part of her established personality. if she can express it in healthy ways, why would it be a negative trait? lastly, about her parents, I honestly don't know much about the wus besides what we were given in canon. do I think the way they handled breaking the news to her was absolutely not the right way to go about it? YES! do I think she may have a slightly rocky relationship with them? also yes.. sort of. but by the end of the series, marcy is an adult. her parents should really have 0 say as to what she wants to do with her life at that point. and while we can see that they seem to value more.. traditional career paths (at least from the subtext of the show), I definitely don't think that was what the writers wanted to close marcy's story on. marcy, in my opinion, didn't move for her parents-- she moved because that was the culmination of her arc. she started the series running away from the move, and ended it with the intentions of making things right-- starting by going through with the move. marcy, by that point in the series, knew that her friendship with anne & sasha was unbreakable-- and that was her main reason as to why she opposed it in the beginning. this allowed her to walk out of the skin of her old self, towards a new beginning. and who knows? perhaps marcy wu flourished in massachusetts. I'm content with epilogue marcy. to me at least, she looks very happy.

[vaguely-concerned]

I'm grabbing frank spicer by his lapels and staring directly into his sad bloodshot barely focused eyes to go 'frank from the bottom of my tom waits-loving heart your voice is still perfect you just have to you HAVE to you MUST it's IMPERATIVE that you give yourself permission to get weird and potentially unpalatable to conventional tastes with it. I understand you're allergic to vulnerability in all its forms but you could be making the strangest most beautiful music of your LIFE right now if you freed yourself from the shackles of how it will be perceived by others and in comparison to your former self. you died as closing time and you can't live to see yourself become swordfishtrombones because you just keep looping the same breakdown day over and over rather than facing the frightening jump into something unknown and new and real. I'm going to have to shake you violently for a while I'm afraid'. his grand tragedy is that hearing the live version of waltzing mathilda just once would fix him* but he lives in a universe where it doesn't exist. I'm in shambles my head is in my hands.

(I feel wild about the fact that his creative stuckness and part of why his and colt's relationship fell apart comes down to the same thing -- the fact that he cannot for the life of him be actually authentic and vulnerable. I'd have to make a longer post to fully explain myself here but rest assured I am Thinking about it big time all the time)

...do you think frank knows that a completely amnesiac colt still immediately and instinctively kind of vibes with his music. how can I let him know this. everyone in this game is stuck in a layer of hell of their making, created from their own personal flaws and foibles, of course that is the point. but 'stuck in an endless loop of intense creative self-loathing and crisis and, by implication, almost aware of it' strikes a special cord with me I must admit lmao. all that and he went into the loop with what seems like fresh confusing breakup energy?? or did that happen somewhere along the way and it's connected with his almost-remembering (or maybe wilful forgetting)??? no matter what this man is having such a bad time of it and I feel like he deserves some aspects of it at least slightly less than some of the people here he gets the 'not quite as bad as you probably could have been and sorry your borderline tender situationship is repeatedly trying to kill you it seems like of your exes he's not one of the ones where your response would be a game shrug of 'yeah no that's fair'' wonky star from me. I mean he did also commit all those cold blooded murders with and without bae I'm not saying free my man or anything here he's earned his place in hell fair and square. but that particular aspect of it seems slightly unwarranted

*well. for a given value of 'fixed'. artistically at least which I frankly think is what matters most to him lol

[redtail-lol]

Makeup tips for sensory issues from someone who has only recently started doing their makeup because she has sensory issues:

1. It's okay to just do light makeup. You don't have to jump in to a full face of foundation and concealer and contouring and you never have to but especially not when you're just starting

2. Powders like eyeshadow are less bothersome than liquids or semisolids like lipsticks or foundations, in my experience. These might not be your exact experience but you will probably find certain textures less bothersome

3. Mascara sucks. It gets stuck in your eyelashes and you will feel it when your lashes stick. Get an eyelash brush so you can separate them.

4. Liquid eyeliners or felt tip eyeliners can be felt, but will be less noticable as they dry. But you'll still feel them so if it bothers you too much you don't have to do it again

5. If eyeshadow bothers you, you can apply it more lightly with brushes that aren't exactly meant for eyeshadow. They will not pick up as much and it will be lighter.

6. If powders don't bother you and semisolids do, you can use eyeshadow for blush, contour, or concealer.

7. Makeup is art on the face, not fixing your flaws. If there's something you cannot handle like concealer under your eyes or mascara on your eyelashes, you don't "need" it. Dark circles and short or light eyelashes are not ugly. You don't "need" makeup to make you less ugly. You're doing it for fun. You're doing art. Have fun with what you can handle and don't worry about what you can't

8. If you can't find any way to do makeup that doesn't bother your senses, you don't have to do it. If you want to do makeup but can't handle it on yourself, get some practice dummies/mannequin heads and when you're pretty good at it, offer to do makeup for friends.

[treadmilltreats]

Why do women tear each other down?

I often wonder why women tear each other down? Maybe growing up and being "one of the boys" all my life, I didn't see it and wasn't part of all the girl drama because boys don't have any of that.

I learned of it while watching my two girls growing up as teenagers. I realized that there is so much drama amongst girls. Look, I get it, they want to fit in, be liked, they don't really know who they are and they are searching.It's tough being a teenager nowadays.

I remember telling my girls when they were growing up that the difference between a girl and a woman is that a real woman doesn't need to put down other women. She uplifts them instead. She's the one that will fix another Queen's crown.

Unfortunately, a lot of times, that is not true. What is really sad is that there are women, grown ass women we see on TV and in our own neighborhoods, that are still petty and jealous. They are still the mean girls we knew in high school, still wanting to tear each other down.

Hell, they even made millions off of the television show Housewives of who gives a shit. These shows are based on hateful, bitter, petty women that fight for the title of the biggest bitch.

Seriously and people watch this shit and think it's okay to act like this? To cheat and lie, to put each down and scrape like two alley cats? Is this how low our society has fallen?

But here's the question we really need to ask, does it make you feel better, tearing other women down? Does it make you smarter? Prettier? Tougher?

No, it makes you ugly to the core! Sorry, I have to tell it like it is! I don't sugar coat shit, if you read my blogs you know what I say, I am not Willy Wonker!

You are ugly to the core. The fact that you put others down, demean, belittle and treat others less than, because they are not what "your" idea of beauty is or that they don't have the latest shoes or designer bag or their not the right "size". is not okay. I've learned this recently while working in the corporate world. How women in higher up positions really treated the women who worked beneath her. It was really sad to see this.

I think really? Is that what you base your self worth on? If it is then I feel truly sorry for you, you know nothing about being human, being a child of God, or even being a good person with a compassionate heart towards others.

I know that yes, even in church we have women like that, sometimes they are even more ugly because they are "righteous" and "religious" But hey, my Bishop who is a really smart man says "Sick people come to church"

Yes, they are sick, dying inside and so they are trying to fill the bottomless pit where their souls once were. The only way to take the spotlight off of them is to shine it on others pointing out others "flaws"

How many trolls and haters are there on social media today? So many that the sucide rate is up amongst teenagers by 30% from my generation.

People that have nothing better to do than to point out flaws, put people down, or point their fingers from the safety of their computer screens because they would never have the balls to say it to your face.

Ask yourself, do you reach out to other women? Are you jealous of them? Do you really feel happy when good things happen to other women? Do you encourage and support them? If you answered no to any of these questions you need to look inside yourself and figure out what's missing inside in you. Is it because you are not whole within you, that causes you to need to do that?

Stop and think about why you do what you do and then make a change.

So today my friends, especially my "real" women friends, we need to stick together. We need to teach this next generation what a real woman looks like. That real women uplift, support and encourage one another. And never forget what they say:

"Do not ever look down on someone unless your offering them a hand to get up"

To all of my soul sistas, I could not live my life without you, you inspire me to be better, you are my role models. Amazing mothers and wives, friends and sisters. These women are always there for me with encouragement, with love, a shoulder to cry on and love for me no matter what. You, my friends, are the women I want my daughters to know and grow up to become. Thank you for everything, I love you always!

"Be the change you want to see”

@TreadmillTreats

[weedlovingweed]

i am watching a video about how the 'clean girl'/'natural beauty' 'trends' are still like classist because they are based in genetics and like. Procedures and Surgery and like sure but also.

idk it seems like people talk about it in a either/or way, where you either have to wear makeup to cover flaws or do skin care/dermatologist/surgery/etc to Fix flaws but also... you don't? have to do any of it. it literally doesn't matter... if you wash yr face and moisturize regularly & use sunscreen if you're going out you are giving you face the things it needs to be healthy (not 'perfect' or like. 'trendy' which why are we trying to be. who cares... look like you and be an individual...)

it's just stupid to me (which i admit i really don't care what other people think and i just accept my appearance as it is without need for enhancements, at least not skin cosmetics)... i know as a gnc lesbian i have less like. tie to feeling like i need to fit Feminine Gender Roles but it doesn't make sense that people can NOT just see themselves as people/animals/living beings with bodies for function rather than exclusively as like aesthetic objects

the video is specifically comparing the full glam insta baddie mid 2010s look to the clean girl type thing now and i haven't really worn makeup regularly since 2014 but still... like just because it became more affordable for women to get concealers and etc to cover their Disgusting Blemished Faces doesn't make that somehow better than people not clogging their pores and being encouraged to only use skin care products. societally and because of capitalism people popular media/culture will NEVER be fully accepting of peoples' natural bodies because how will they sell you anything? they need to toe the line between 'loving and accepting yourself as you are' and 'buuuut you need this product to REALLY love yourself/take care of your skin/make you look better/etc etc'. so just be yourself and do only what is necessary for HEALTH not for some nebulous 'beauty' that will absolutely change in like 5-10 years. esp people who think that getting cosmetic surgery or fillers will make them fit the standard.

you are going to be left behind when the standard changes. you are either going to look 'so 2023' in 10 years or you will have to get more surgery to fit the new standards. wouldn't you rather be able to laugh and smile and cry and enjoy the vastness of feeling, expression, etc instead of numbing your face and losing your ability to really express yourself?

[wisdom0freal]

Why relationships suck (nowadays)

all in all, with newer generations overburdened by easy pleasurable life and lack of morality and discipline. both genders became too insecure to be able to achieve effective communication. So now everyone is some level of a narcissistic kid that gets ego injured too easily, and in such way, they hide in a bloated shell that no one can ever truly reveal themselves and show anything "human". Relationships are becoming more and more about materialistic benefits than an actual connection. As a result, the slightest inconvenience in a relationship will break it because it was already built on something too superficial and meaningless, aka "brittle". Relationships with deep real connection can stand in front of even hell itself and force each individual to change to be better just for the sake of that connection, as meaning is the strongest force that pushes or pulls a human in any direction.

The solution is not to fix others, but to fix oneself and allow others to fix you rather than falling into that narcissistic shell of "none of your business". If you analyze the "none of your business concept" more thoughtfully, no good should ever try to stand in the face of bad. But the "none of your business" is just an insecure ego exclamation "As long as it's inconvenient for me, it's none of your business". And in a world that is fixated on freedom (egoistic freedom) and lust rather than morality and self-development (freedom of self), you can't help anybody. So, find someone with a bare minimum level of reason and security for the least and settle with it. In the end, it's birds of a feather flock together. Remember, it's easy to be hard on others and easy on yourself. Directing pain, anger, and insecurity at others rather than being accountable for them.

And most of the "influencers" (as they want more views=money) will not tell you something you don't want to hear, simply because it's not beneficial to them. They will take a side and just attack the other side. So, those who align themselves with a given side will be "fans". It's a wicked game that destroys the world. Not only make people less accountable and more blameful. It creates gaps between different groups. in politics, even in science. But for this post, between men and women.

Also note that I am not saying that's the only common-influencer strategy. Another thing is that they will find things that most people will like/hate..etc. So, who should we listen to? you bozo. your conscience, NOT your ego. every side of a debate, not a specific one. Most importantly, not someone talking based on selfish interests that is for only for themselves. someone thinks in terms of "humanity" rather than "just their own selves" or a little better but still unhealthy, "for their own group". So stop listening to men/women telling you how much men/women suck. They both equally suck nowadays except for exceptions obviously, because it's not about gender really, it's about society and what people/humans has come to as a whole.

Finally, accept your flaws. Accept it or not, flaws in men will usually be different from flaws in women. Doesn't mean either is any better, they are equally prone to flaws and bad traits, just in different ways. Don't use binary thinking; women can have flaws that men have. yes, and men can be weaker physically than women. But it's a problem when we start making generalizations from exceptions. Even Quantum tunnelling is possible.

Expected defensive judgements from some people: 1) This person just broke up and decided to rant Nope, that's from simply observing the world, we learn by observing too. I have never been in any relationship 2) This person seems to blame the world for his single no rizz (or whatever) Nope, I am saying what is happening. If I am alone, then it's because of me, and everyone should know that for themselves too. 3) This person acts like a white knight/ thinks he is perfect I never said I am not part of the world I am talking about. I have insecurities and mental problems; I am not perfect. But that doesn't mean I should deny everything altogether; realizing the problem is the first step to a solution. 4) This is out of insecurity; that's why he is defensive for no reason. I genuinely want things to be better. Believe it or not, this is called communication. And I want to ensure everyone listens without any judgment. Such judgements work as ego defense mechanisms and I want to make people realize that most of the time, their judgements about others speaks about them, always ask yourself "Why I am making this judgement about this person", this personally helps me understanding myself when I tend to be so judgmental against specific concept/idea/group of people. How do you know it's based on egotistical judgment and not a fair conclusion? Because the cause/reason is the person themselves. someone being something doesn't change the fact of what he wrote/said being correct or not. To realize if something is correct or not, you don't make it personal. when you make it personal, it's ego. When you analyze the statement itself and logically compare it with the world (and different scientific methods/backgrounds, hopefully if possible), then you're seeking the truth. 5) this person thinks he is better than everyone This is a thought that comes from the very common sense of isolation that everyone in the world is suffering from right now. We live in the same world; we live in THIS together. it's not just "climate change" that affects everyone with no exception; it's every human action, and the whole system that we are "stuck" in resulting from the domino effect and collectiveness of those human actions.

____ This is what I usually face when I share thoughts like this. ___ many people may not realize that relationships has changed from "home, peace, and settlement" that it naturally always has been to "headache and scary." then there should be a reaction. And that's effectively affecting everyone and humanity as a whole VERY Majorly. When people can't fulfill the most core need of being a human, they will slowly lose(give up) humanity for the sake of compensations(all these materialistic stuff that we seek too much of it, even killing ourselves(slowly or immediately) by such seeking), dark triad traits will increase globally, and the world will become a more and more toxic, unsafe place for everyone, including everyone even those who are highest in dark triad and immorality or evil whatever you call it. It's a simple chain effect. If you spit in a bag however huge it is, the spit will have an impact on the whole bag. We all live in the same bag.

And it shouldn't be that of a shocker. if You gonna be mean to someone, You increase the chances of them becoming insecure/angry/in negative mental state, making them more mean as well. and so, the cycle of toxicity strengthens through time and newer generations become worse than older ones. Even worse, every moment people become more and more selfish, toxic, cynic..etc. Like if you revise your memories, if you belong to the majority, you will realize you have become (what YOU call) less naive, aka less pure, moral, kind and more selfish, because "that's the way to survive".

And Then the more toxic, selfish, scary the world is, and the less kindness and understanding in it. The more people will become more stressed. And stress makes people more toxic. There are many contributing points, but they all start from oneself and the ego. All are solved by finding motivation and a strong reason to be moral, good, and kind, not to justify otherwise. By this motivation people will manage to work on themselves, for each become better, wiser, more kind, understanding, humble...etc. Everyone will feel content within a group of others.

[firespirited]

As a forced 'pause' and break from routine I'm watching the Die Hard films.

It's a bit of an odd experience as I don't have any nostalgia for them or for Bruce Willis as an action star. See, I enjoyed the Sixth Sense and loved Unbreakable (yep bad crip rep and all) but Fifth Element was the first/only exposure to Willis as the quippy macho but vulnerable action hero.

I'm guessing that was the template so to speak because Die Hard is THE same dude as the fifth element and we've seen his wisecracking type everywhere (notably the Ryan Reynolds/The Rock type).

Anyway, it's hard to keep in mind that it was groundbreaking at the time to have a flawed action hero when there are plot points that really stick in your teeth:

The film doesn't let him say sorry to his wife even though there are plenty of opportunities, it's clear that's the only thing that'll fix his marriage but I guess she's a mind-reader and heartfelt confessions are for bros only. ugh.

The casual reminders that he's a policeman who breaks the rules and does violence on the regular (LAPD, 1988, you know that's not pretty) so you're like ok, ok so he's a bad guy taking out worse guys.

and then his new partner reveals he's on desk duty because he killed a child. I had to pause the film and stare at the wall for a while because he described the Tamir Rice murder down to the stupid fake gun. Tamir wasn't the first by any means, that's why they put the coloured caps on toy guns in the first place. You wonder why cops with ptsd are armed, why they're armed at all, you wonder why they aren't taught less lethal methods, you wonder what he was doing there anyway, you wonder about why we give toy guns to little boys.

You tell yourself it's just a story, you try to get back into it.

But this Hans Gruber guy is executing a really smart heist: it's just money! the body count is one innocent CEO and one treacherous cocaine snorting exec. If we can save the hostages then do we really care if he gets away? What's the motivation here? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ free the hostages no-one cares about the rest.

-------------

Die Hard 2 starts with William Sadler (aka Bill and Ted's grim reaper) doing very naked tai chi (slow kung fu?), making serious faces to the mirror while he flexes his muscles. I see. We are beyond machismo and into camp, I'll give it five minutes to sway me.

The film lampshades its premise and mocks authority straight up instead of the fake out we had in part 1. I have no idea why grim reaper wants fake Castro freed. There are references to the war on drugs and falling into communism like those are very scary things and the mere mention of them explains things.

The tension on this one is excellent - it leans more into looney toons absurdism while also making the stakes a lot higher. Don't get me wrong, it's very stupid but everyone is hamming it up, somehow that works better than the first film which was supposed to be more grounded in reality.

Colm Meaney who plays O'Brien is piloting the aircraft that has a very bad day. That was painful, in a good way.

The cast of bad guys�� has John Leguizamo, Robert Patrick and Vondie Curtis Hall amongst other 'that dude from the thing!' faces.

Entertaining if cartoony. More janitors and engineers and fewer cops makes it easier to root against the baddies.

[ladyloveandjustice]

Well, you do need a healthy balance between escapism and forcing yourself to deal with the real world and real people. It is incredibly possible and common to isolate from others and use media to cope with feeling socially alienated (and like. burn way too much cash on using media to cope,) in a way that's not mentally healthy. Any addiction is harmful, and most anything (exercise, work, eating, even brushing your teeth) can be generally helpful but will negatively impact if you do it exclusively and excessively. If you're incredibly depressed, maybe you just wanna play video games and sleep 24 hours a day, but video games won't fix it, seeing if you need meds or therapy or seeking some sort of solution will help more. It's not the same as not understanding the difference between reality and fiction, and stories that act like escapism is that and liking fiction is always bad are indeed, bad.

I think the point of some of these stories that are a little more nuanced is that a perfect world may not exist in our lifetimes, but that doesn't mean the world isn't worth living in. Often these ideal fantasy worlds we build in our heads are thought of as without struggles or pain, but every world has that if you actually live in it (and most stories have struggles and pain!). I think THAT specifically was what Fionna and Cake was saying, since every weird world they went to was full of problems and didn't work out the way Fionna expected- she wanted to live in a world without consequences but it didn't exist, her world was no different from the rest, and no less worthwhile. Especially since on the other side of the coin Simon literally had to accept living in the weird fantastical world as normal guy and face his depression, because it was the flawed world he had (and also actually learn to like his own fanfic, not reject it).

I think you can argue about whether it was done well, but that's what it was clearly going for I think. I was just making a joke because I do think the "and well there's no magic now" is slightly overused and so is that metaphor. Though to be fair to fandc- Cake and a couple other peeps are still magic and hanging around. Fionna going 'it's a normal world' and the candy tank rolling by was clearly meant to be ironic.

though honestly whenever we get those kind of 'you must accept that the world cannot have magic and accept the real world flawed though it is" things I get what that's going for but i'm also like 'yeah no if i had that choice i'd make it magical and not give a shit about the ethical ramifications. y'all would be fucked up on magic immediately".

[not-your-fucking-kacchan]

I want to ruin my life and throw myself into an arc so uhh

Can i request class 1-A but like outcast reader? Angsty yk where theyre always dismissed in training and forgotten

Oooo I like this one lmfao I want so desperately to make reader this feral little cicin mage like from genshin 😭 buts gonna be gn

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 <3

𝐀𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐰𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 1-𝐀 𝐱 𝐆𝐍!𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜) - 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤

Aizawa was starting to become a little worried about you. He had been so busy with Shinsou and his problem children to focus much attention and direction to the rest of the class. Every time he would try to work on it, yet another calamity would occur and force his attention back on the main parties.

He was working on this little flaw of his, continuously checking in with and directing the others during training period. He never got to help you, though. It seemed that whenever he would look for you, you would drop from the face of the earth.

You were avoiding him.

You would sit on your lonesome in class and at lunch, with your head kept down. He's never once seen you exchange small talk. In all honesty, he's less worried about your physical capabilities, and more worried about your mental state. He has a bad feeling.

In reality, you just hated this class. Every day, someone would open their big, ugly mouth and out came nonsense that further convinced you of how undeserving they were of being at the top. You were only here because you were recommended. Your quirk isn't nearly as powerful or flashy, either. Why does everyone else get all the attention when all they do is fuck up and ruin everything?!

All of this comes to light during the next sparring period. You were towing on the edge of keeping up with one of the class' best, until you were unexpectedly knocked down. That was your last straw. How fucking dare he?

You were suffering a humiliating defeat as you sit on your knees on the floor, staring into the distance without focus, until your sight was infiltrated by the image of Midoriya. You hate that stupid brat. The hatred in your veins is only fuelled when he offers a hand to you and a pathetic smile.

Within a second, his hand is slapped away and the room goes silent.

"Get the fuck away from me. Fuck you."

The bite of your words is only dulled by the waver of your voice, and the tears in your eyes. Izuku is stunned, as is the rest of the class. Even Katsuki thinks you're overreacting. Kirishima steps in with a frown. "Hey, man... That wasn't cool-"

He's interrupted when you turn around and walk away, brimming with anger and frustration. How is he so much better than you?! You train every day and constantly home your skills, so how did he beat you faster than you could blink?

Maybe you were being a little horrible, but you've never learned how to offset your anger in healthier ways, so for now, you're happy taking it out on others.

Are you really that weak? Maybe, after everything, you're the one who doesn't deserve to be here...

How come they could always be nice to eachother, but they could never talk to you? Why were you ignored or given strange looks when you tried to open up? How come noone wanted to be your friend?

Aizawa, of course, figured you might react in such a way. Loneliness can easily turn into bitterness if you take your eye off it for too long. He needs to help you fix this.

He wants to keep everyone in this class for as long as he possibly can, and allowing you to exclude yourself any more than you have would be dangerous for everyone, including you.

It's with that, that he starts putting people in pairs for everything. He would force you to socialise if it was the last thing he did.

Every day you would argue with your pair, but it was worth it, because when you were offered kindness or compassion, no matter how reluctant you were to accept it, he could see that little spark in your eye. It was the kind of spark that made him aware of your guard dropping. You were actually starting to care about your classmates.

Obviously Toshinori immediately knew what he was doing when he saw Aizawa put you in a group of three since the class was uneven on a specific day, and he would offer up a smirk and subtle glance as if to say "wow, you finally got through to them".

He supposed that it's not your fault you don't know how to cope with your... Emotional baggage, much like Shouto or Katsuki, but he likes to make you very much aware that it's your responsibility to learn how.

When the day comes that you finally think to apologise to Izuku, the boy you've grown an annoying fondness for, he actually starts to cry. He's so proud of you for not staying emotionally constipated like Katsuki, that he actually floods the room and Aizawa has to open the window for him to violently sob out of so that the entire class doesn't drown.

Slowly, you start to grow a kinship with a few people in your class, and you grow especially close with your bubblegum haired friend Mina, and Jirou, who liked to do her part by teasing you out of your shell. Maybe, you could even learn what it's like to love and be loved back.

[misc-obeyme]

Mc shows the brothers

Human world style and (what the media gives to woman) body standards ,How would they react?

((I am a firm believer that you can be whoever you want and your body is beautiful))

Hey there, anon!

Okay, this here is a sensitive topic, but I think I did all right with it.

I think how the brothers would react depends on what the beauty standards are like in the Devildom. So for this, I went with the idea that while the Devildom has similar beauty standards to the human world, they're less important. I would think that demons would care more about power than appearance, especially since it's likely that at least some of them use magic to alter how they look. So the brothers probably don't know what an issue it is in the human world.

Also tried to keep it mostly gender neutral, hopefully that's okay.

Thank you for the request!

The brothers react to GN!MC telling them about human world body standards.

Warnings: A lot of discussion of body image issues, talking about diets and food in Beel's part.

Lucifer

Does not understand. Why do humans place such importance on looking perfect? He certainly sees the value in looking put together, especially when it comes to things like clothes and hygiene. Beyond that, though, he doesn't see the point in obsessing over trying to fix perceived flaws.

Does not care about your body type at all. Short? Tall? Fat? Thin? It's irrelevant to him. What matters is who you are. If he wasn't a beautiful man, it wouldn't matter because everyone would still fear him. It isn't about what you look like, it's how you carry yourself.

If you struggle, though, he's going to be sensitive about it. Will not talk about it with others around, but will casually compliment you on how nice you look. Especially if he knows you're lacking confidence for some reason. Then he'll make a point of telling you that you look good.

When you're alone, though, he showers you in compliments. Lucifer is not usually soft, so it's reserved for when you're alone with him. And that's when he takes your feelings into consideration. Don't you know that you are stunning, MC? In fact, he would say that your body is perfect simply because it is yours.

Mammon

Hang on. Human world models aren't naturally like that? Sure, he works out a little more than he might normally just because he works as a model, but it's not like he goes around doing anything drastic. Do you think he's contributing to unrealistic beauty standards in the Devildom?!

Um… well… it's hard to say? You'll probably need to reassure him that it really doesn't matter either way. The problem is not individual models, but the industry as a whole. And there are people who are working to make things better. It's just that in the human world, you have to be aware that what you see in magazines is usually heavily edited. He's gonna think that's crazy. The Great Mammon's photos are never photoshopped!

Once he gets over this little crisis, though, he's going to tell you that all of that sounds really stupid. The whole point of fashion is that it makes you feel good! It's supposed to be fun! Who cares what type of body you have? You should be able to enjoy it no matter what.

Mammon is gonna get really cute about your specific insecurities, though. If you tell him you don't like something about yourself, he's going to go out of his way to let you know that he loves it. Feeling unhappy about your stomach not being flat enough, for instance? Hey, MC! Ya don't mind if he gives ya hug, do ya? Doesn't wait for a response, just wraps his arms around you from behind so he can settle his hands directly on your stomach. Presses his face into your neck to mumble about how perfect you are because he won't say it straight to your face.

Leviathan

Baffled. More confused than Lucifer. Are you seriously trying to tell him that people in the human world care about this kind of thing? Uh oh. Now he's thinking about his body image. Does it fit with human world standards?! Do you think he's hideous, MC!?

You've got another crisis. Quick, reassure him that he has nothing to worry about! The point you're trying to make here is that human world standards are crazy and harmful. He's perfect to you and that's all that matters.

O-oh. Right. Now he's a little bashful about his reaction. Makes it clear that you're perfect to him, too. Watch as he gains more confidence in his compliments. He starts telling you about how he loves every part of you. Lists physical attributes at first, but starts getting into who you are to him. Not just your best qualities, but special moments he's had with you. How important you are to him, specifically.

If you tell him about things that you struggle with, he's going to reassure you in the moment. And then you notice that when you consume some form of media together, a lot of times there's a character that has one of those specific things that you also have. He thinks he's subtle, but you see right through him. If he finds a story line where the character learns to love themselves or something, he's definitely going to make you watch it with him. Acts like he's completely innocent, it's just a good story, you know!

Satan

Confused at first. As with Lucifer, finds such things to be completely irrelevant. Obviously, what matters is who you are inside. When someone has a heart and soul as beautiful as yours, their body simply becomes beautiful by association. Also don't you know it's about practicality? Your body exists to move you through the world, not to be pretty for other people.

Uh oh. Now he's getting angry. Why would other humans feel that you have to look a certain way for them? How could they make you feel like you aren't perfect exactly as you are? How dare they subject you to their own ideals of beauty? It's upsetting, MC!

Okay, okay, you're probably going to have to talk him down. He's livid on your behalf, but tell him how much it means to you to hear him say these things and he'll start to calm down. Realizes that getting angry about it doesn't help you in any way. Reassures you that such human world ideas are nonsense.

Starts complimenting you all the time, especially on the things he knows you're insecure about. Maybe you don't like the shape of your nose. He will say, completely straight faced, that your nose is looking really cute today. Although this sounds ridiculous, it does make you smile, so that feels like a win.

Asmodeus

Oh, MC. Don't you think he knows all about this already? Of course he does. Asmodeus is perfectly aware of how things are in the human world when it comes to beauty standards. He knows how hard it can be for some humans.

You might think he couldn't possibly understand because he's so perfect. He's always beautiful. The reality is that he believes his beauty is all he has. If he's not beautiful, who even is he? Take the moment to tell him that he's so much more than his looks. That you love him for who he is, his kindness, his bubbly personality, his creativity, etc.

He's going to tell you that all the things you do to make yourself look good should be things you're doing for yourself. Do them because they make you feel good. Do them because they give you confidence. Do them because you deserve to pamper yourself sometimes. Do them because you need to take care of yourself just as much as you take care of everybody else.

Another one who gets cute about your insecurities. What's that? Did you say you don't like your stretch marks? Well now you're laughing as he kisses every last stretch mark he can find. You learn not to say negative things about yourself around him unless you're prepared to get covered in kisses.

Beelzebub

Misunderstands. Thinks you're asking him for workout advice. You want your body to look a certain way? He knows what to do for that. Do you want him to come up with an exercise schedule for you, MC? Its up to you whether or not you decide to workout with him, but either way you'll have to tell him that's not exactly what you meant. Tell him about diets and watch the confusion get worse.

Wait, wait, wait. Humans restrict their food in an attempt to get their bodies to look a certain way? He's dumbfounded. Just thinking about it upsets him. Why in the world would you want to deprive yourself of any kind of food? You decide not to tell him just how bad this can get for people. He's having a hard enough time as it is.

Don't you dare try to do it around him, though. If you say anything about not wanting to eat something because you're worried it'll make you fat or you're watching your figure or anything else along those lines, he will frown at you. He's going to tell you that you should eat whatever you want.

Beel thinks chubby humans are really cute. They look well fed and that makes him happy. If you're already on the chubby side, he'll tell you how much he likes it. If you're not, he'll tell you how much he likes you the way you are, but if you were to change he would like you just the same.

Belphegor

Huh. Humans care about some weird stuff, don't they? It's not that Belphie is unaware of human world beauty standards, it's more like he thinks it's really dumb so he doesn't think about it most of the time. However, he does recognize what an issue it can be for a lot of people. The fact that you're bringing it up to him indicates that you struggle with it, too. And he's not okay with that.

Won't lose his shit or anything, this guy is too lazy for that. But he is annoyed on your behalf. He's annoyed that you feel insecure about any part of you because the human world had the audacity to pressure you into thinking you weren't good enough just the way you are. You don't have to change anything about yourself, MC. You're perfect.

He's actually really good at listening to you talk about your body image issues. He knows he doesn't necessarily have to participate a lot, he just needs to listen. You'll feel better once you've told him all about your struggles. Tell him everything. He's only going to speak up to tell you that he understands, but that in his eyes, those flaws you think you have don't exist.

As with a couple of his older brothers, he's going to deliberately love on the things that you mention being insecure about. Definitely more bratty about it, though. The more you protest, the more he persists. Did you just complain about how thick your thighs are? He's going to nuzzle into them like they're the softest pillow he's ever had. Loudly says he's going to take his afternoon nap right there. Try to dislodge him and you'll only make it worse.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!