#bevvy writes

Description: Even Fatgum, the hero known for boosting the self esteem of almost anyone around him, struggles with his self worth from time to time.

Type: Reverse comfort

Notes: Gender-neutral reader

Reblogs are appreciated!

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It had been a long day for the BMI hero Fatgum. There had been an increase in petty crimes recently, and while each individual instance wasn’t all that difficult, it was starting to add up and wear him out. A long night stretched into a long week, which stretched into a long month. Days on end without proper sleep, and even less time to spend on himself.

The exhaustion was starting to get to him. He found it harder to be patient with those working with him at his agency, and while he knew well enough to keep his calm, people were starting to notice he wasn’t his usual self. This only served to make him feel worse. He was a pro hero for crying out loud. He knew what he was signing up for when he decided to pursue this career.

Y/n, Taishiro’s long term partner and closest confidant, watched his slow decline with concern. They knew that saying, “Everything is going to be okay,” wouldn’t solve his problems, even if he would appreciate the gesture. Knowing him, it would only make him bury the feelings down deeper so as not to worry them. Y/n was at a loss for what to do.

But when Taishiro came through the door that evening, his posture slumped and hero costume haphazardly thrown onto their couch, Y/n knew something had to be done.

“Another long day?” they asked gently, eyes searching his face and noting the ever-evident exhaustion.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Taishiro answered honestly, he refused to look Y/n in the eyes, knowing that their concerned expression might cause the last of his facade to crumble, “But I’m sure tomorrow will be better.”

“Hm,” Y/n hummed, not really agreeing but also not disagreeing, “Why don’t you sit down on the couch for a while, hon. Dinner is almost finished and I think it would be nice to watch a movie while we eat.” They moved to grab his large hero costume, folding it so it was easier to carry so they could put it aside to be washed.

Taishiro moved to stop them,“You don’t have to do that, sweets, I’ll take care of—“

“Taishiro you have been working all day, I can handle this,” Y/n said gently, yet forcefully. They silently pointed to the couch and Taishiro sat obediently. Y/n smiled, “Now pick a movie while I finish this up, love.”

It wasn’t long before the two were cuddled up together watching a movie while enjoying their dinner. As time passed, some of the tension had left Taishiro’s body. The presence of his partner at his side brought him great comfort. Y/n had long since finished eating and had curled up happily into his plush side, their eyes only somewhat paying attention to the screen.

Taishiro let out a small sigh of content, and Y/n looked up at him. Seeing that he was doing a little better, they turned down the volume on the television and looked at him, “Want to talk about what’s been getting you so down, Tai? It seems to be a little bit more than just working long nights.”

Taishiro wasn’t able to look away from the earnestness and concern displayed so prominently on Y/n’s face, and he let out another little sigh—this one being of resignation. His giant hand cupped their face gently, his thumb rubbing their cheek absentmindedly. “I just...feel like I should be doing more, ‘s all. That I shouldn’t be as tired as I am...” he started slowly. Y/n continued to look at him, giving him their undivided attention. “I’m a pro and yet I’m struggling so much. I feel so guilty for being so worn out when there are people who depend on me.”

Taishiro could feel himself beginning to tear up, and he tried to clench his jaw to stop it. Y/n noticed and reached up to cup his cheek with their hand.

“Tai, it’s okay to cry,” they whispered, “It’s okay, I promise.”

The dam burst, and large tears streamed silently down Taishro’s face. He sniffled and made quiet sobbing noises while Y/n wiped his face gently. Seeing Taishiro—Fatgum, the loud and bubbly hero—sobbing so softly and seeming so fragile despite his large stature, was heartbreaking. But he needed to understand that it was okay to not always be strong.

“Taishiro,” Y/n whispered softly, using their most soothing voice, “it’s okay to take time for yourself. I know you want to protect everyone, but how can you do that if you aren’t taking care of yourself? Your life is just as valuable as the lives of those you save.”

Taishiro looked at Y/n, his golden eyes watery, “I just—hic!—want to feel like I deserve to be called a hero.” His voice was wobbly and he hiccuped slightly.

Y/n smiled, and kissed his nose gently, “You know that if Red or Suneater were struggling with this, that you’d tell them that anyone who puts their life on the line to save others is worthy of being called a hero.”

Taishiro lifted Y/n up so they were now able to cuddle close to his chest, his large arms encircling them. “....Thank you,” he whispered softly. The tears had slowly stopped, and the uneasiness of his breathing began settling down.

Y/n smiled, “It’s the least I could do for my favorite hero.”

Chat Noir leaned against the railing of the little rooftop that had become their special meeting place. This time there were no candles, no roses, only the night sky and city lights. The blonde felt his lip quiver as he watched Ladybug approach him, able to see the scratches on her face and hear her slightly pained breathing. She reached out her arm and he pulled her closer to him carefully.

“I know I might not have much,” the blonde hero said, tears streaming down his face as he looked at the spotted angel in front of him, “Right now I can’t even find the man who is putting your life in danger so often. But I have more love for you than I know what to do with.” His gloved hand cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing over the scratches on her cheek.

“Chat, I—“ Ladybug bit her lip, her own tears threatening to spill. She hated seeing him so torn up. The last akuma battle was far too close for comfort, and even she was still on edge about the whole thing.

“I want to give you everything you could ever dream of,” Chat Noir continued, pulling her even closer into a hug. His head nestled against the bend of her neck, and Ladybug swore she could feel his tears even through her suit. “I want to see you everyday without it having to be to put your life on the line. I want to be by your side and show everyone how amazing you are. I want to love you, and cherish you, and build a life better than either of us could imagine.”

He was sobbing between his words, and Ladybug tried to calm him by making shushing sounds and running her fingers through his hair. His grip on her tightened a little, and she stepped closer, allowing him to completely wrap his arms around her and hold her as close as possible. Ladybug pressed gentle kisses along the top of his head, allowing him all the time he needed to calm down. When his sobbing had settled into soft sniffles, Ladybug finally spoke up, “That sounded a lot like a proposal, Chaton.” Her voice was soft and warm, not mocking.

“And what if it was?” Chat Noir said as an automatic retort, still caught up in his emotions. His head was still rested comfortably against her and he was in no rush to move away from their embrace.

I’m so sorry it is almost 3 am and this is probably so bad. It isn’t proofread but I had to get this idea out there. 

Social Media AU Ladrien where Marinette is a VTuber It started off as a joke--mostly. One evening while mindlessly scrolling through her twitter, Marinette stumbled across something interesting someone she followed reblogged. It was a clip of a streamer, who was using a virtual avatar in place of where a face cam would be. Finding this odd, and a little funny, Marinette looked into it a little more. It turned out that this was something that was becoming more and more popular for video game streamers. There were a variety of different characters, with a bunch of unique characteristics. These characters were placeholders for the actual streamers, giving them the anonymity they wanted while giving viewers a face to match the voice to. Marinette had to admit it was a genius concept. 

So of course Marinette did the logical thing, she decided to mess around and create a virtual avatar for herself instead of working on any of the many assignments she had for her university courses. She wasn’t planning on streaming, it was just a fun side project to put her limited art skills to use. Using google and whatever free programs she could get her hands on, Marinette designed what would later be known as the first version of her new persona: Ladybug. 

Ladybug’s cartoon appearance matched up with Marinette’s slightly. Their hair color was the same, with Ladybug’s hair placed in two buns on the top of her head, with little red ribbons sticking out from beneath them. Her eyes were a little more blue, and the proportions were a lot more cartoony. Marinette modeled a mask over her eyes, just a simple spotted mask. She was inspired by one of the many other avatars she’d seen, and figured giving her own character a “schtick” would make designing her more fun--hence the name. 

The truth was, Marinette never intended to stream. She was just going to let the avatar files collect metaphorical dust in the corner of her computer storage, something to run into ever so often and smile fondly at. But, the more Marinette thought about it, the more it felt like an injustice. She spent so long on it, she wanted to be able to use Ladybug at least once. So, while on break between semesters, she decided that streaming ever so often wouldn’t be a big deal. It’s not like she’d have a following, or would have to worry about disturbing anyone. Thanks to the generous compensation she received from Jagged Stone for any and all “fashion emergencies”, she had more than enough money to live comfortably in a small apartment not far from her university.  So what was the harm in streaming her playing some Mecha Strike Online every once in a while? Apparently none. 

In fact, Marinette gained a following rather quickly. While she wasn’t one of the top streamers--not by a long shot--she had a little over a thousand people on her streams some nights. It didn’t matter what she was playing, whether it were Mecha Strike or Stardew Valley, people enjoyed her commentary and sarcasm. Before she knew it, she had to make separate social media accounts to avoid people pretending to be her. 

Marinette didn’t expect to enjoy streaming so much. She made sure to mention often that she was just a casual streamer, and that she wasn’t planning on making this her full time career--her passion was in designing after all--and even made a point to donate a majority of any money she made from streaming to charities. It was a good way to relax, though. And the community was nice enough.

In particular, Marinette enjoyed observing the twitter community. A group of people who enjoyed her content called themselves “LBTwt”. They clipped her streams, made fanart of her avatar, and would randomly tag her in memes. Some people sent her encouragement, and some would simply clown on her in a lighthearted manner. Marinette was amazed by the community, and interacted with them ever so often to show her appreciation. 

There was one user in particular though who seemed to be popping up the most. A twitter user who used the handle “@buggaboy” and had dubbed himself “King of LBTwt”. He tweeted at her more than anyone, commented under all of her posts, and even sent things to her DMs. While Marinette avoided her DMs like the plague, she couldn’t help but laugh at his other interactions with her. He never said things like “thanks bestie” like many others took to doing. Instead, he borderline waxes poetic about the clip of her reading out his “Ladybug my beloved” Super Chat during a YouTube stream.  His tweets were never creepy though, just admiration and respect in a dorky and overly grandeur way.

Marinette enjoyed his antics, and one day found herself scrolling through his Twitter feed. Part of it felt a little egotistical, but she figured he wanted her to see it anyway, considering he tagged her in most of his posts. What posts weren’t dedicated to her were dedicated to his black cat. It was this black cat that led to Marinette’s life taking a wild turn for the second time. 

Because there was only one person who was dorky enough to name their black cat Plagg. And only one person who owned the expansive anime figurine collection in the photo she was staring at on her phone, the familiar black cat pawing at a Naruto figure that she distinctly remembers saving up for as a birthday present. 

Description: Y/n is insecure about the scars on their body that have come from training, as well as just life in general. Izuku offers them some comfort.

Type: Comfort

Notes: Gender-neutral reader, no specified quirk, could be read as platonic or romantic.

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The path to becoming a hero was long, exhausting, and physically arduous. There would be times where one couldn't help but collapse into their bed at the end of the day and wonder if the end of training was ever in sight. And it wasn't unusual to earn an injury or two in the process, especially if you were apart of Class 1-A.

Y/n never considered themselves to be vain. Sure, they wanted to look at least somewhat presentable to the general public, but appearance was never high on their priority list. But when looking in the mirror while getting dressed for class and seeing the scars littering their body, part of them cringed. Getting a few scars was unavoidable, they knew, given the line of work they had chosen. But they were still a student, not even a hero yet, and had already accumulated more scars than most of the students in their class.

They frowned and buttoned their grey uniform top, thankful that sleeves and the rest of their uniform hid their scars.

In class, the majority of 1-A noticed that Y/n’s energy was a little off. While they weren't as outgoing as Mina, Y/n wasn't as quiet as Shoto or Tokoyami, either. But today, they hardly spoke at all.

No one was sure how to approach the situation, and if asked if they were okay, Y/n would respond with a small, "It's just one of those days." They weren't going to lie and say they were fine, since that would only serve to confuse their classmates, but Y/n wasn't sure how to go about telling them about their insecurities.

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Izuku watched Y/n from the corner of his eye. It was obvious that something was bothering them, but he couldn't tell exactly what it was. It didn't look like they had been crying, which he considered a positive, but everything else about them just screamed that they would rather be anywhere else.

Their shoulders were slumped and their arms were drawn closer into themselves. Y/n's posture was an obvious attempt to appear smaller.

It was incredibly hard to focus on the lesson when all Izuku wanted to do was comfort Y/n. When lunch time rolled around, Izuku quickly followed behind them, gently reaching out to grab their wrist.

Y/n tensed and whipped their head to see who had grabbed them.

"Oh," Y/n said softly, their shoulders relaxing and expression softening once they recognized him, "Is something the matter, Izuku?"

“That’s what I wanted to ask you,” Izuku said tentatively, “I heard you telling the others that it’s just ‘one of those days’... but I was wondering if there’s something specific bothering you?”

“I...” Y/n turned slightly to face Izuku, their eyes focused on where his hand was wrapped gently around their wrist still, “It’s hard to explain.”

“It’s okay if you don’t feel comfortable explaining,” Izuku said, “I just want you to know that even if you think I won’t understand, I’ll do my best.”

Y/n bit their lip, their eyes now focusing on the scars on Izuku’s hands. If anyone were to understand their dilemma, it would be him. But then Y/n risked making Izuku feel insecure, too.

Izuku waited patiently for Y/n to respond and was almost going to back off of the topic and just try to cheer them up instead when they spoke up, “...I guess I just feel a little insecure about my scars.” Y/n met Izuku’s eyes, their lip pulled slightly between their teeth in nervousness. It looked like they had more to say, so Izuku waited.

“I know it sounds silly,” they said softly, “heroes are bound to get hurt. Scarring is bound to happen. But... it makes me feel weak. And sometimes looks are important for a hero, too, so...” Y/n couldn’t finish the sentence, their gaze quickly flicking back down.

Izuku waited a few moments before speaking up, “You know, I have a lot of scars too, Y/n.”

“But yours are from saving people! Mine are—“

“Not all of them are,” Izuku interrupted, “Most of them are from mistakes I made when I was learning to use my quirk. Being reckless, eager, and stupid.”

“But—“

“Y/n,” Izuku said, stepping closer and wrapping them in a hug, “your scars are a sign of you learning, and living, and experiencing things. I know that won’t magically make your insecurities go away, but I need you to know that having scars doesn’t make you less of a hero.”

Y/n gripped the back of Izuku’s uniform, their eyes watering as he rubbed their head. They couldn’t find the words to respond, and hoped that Izuku could tell how grateful they were for him and his support.

This might be a mini-fic, I’m not sure yet, but for now just consider anything I post for this AU connected one-shots.

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Marinette knew that the world was full of more odd and mysterious things than she had previously thought. She was a highschool super hero going after a butterfly themed maniac who wore a wrestler’s mask with a suit, after all. But somehow, despite the craziness she constantly experienced in her life, she still managed to get caught off guard.

Because one day, after weeks of Tikki making sad comments about wanting to experience life as a “modern human” (accompanied with longingly watching dancing videos), Marinette woke up to find Tikki missing. But more alarming than that, was that now there was a teenage girl curiously inspecting everything in her room. Thinking it may be an akuma, she looked around frantically for her tiny spotted friend in hopes of defeating it without waking her parents. She tried not to make any loud noises as she shuffled around in her bed.

It didn’t work, however, and the intruder turned to look at her with wide eyes that were somehow familiar, “Oh, Marinette! You’re awake!” The voice was even more familiar, soft and gentle while slightly squeaky.

“Wh-who are you?” Marinette tried to ask calmly, although the stutter betrayed her.

If Luka were to give himself credit for anything, it’d be the fact that he’s observant. He had to be when it came to navigating the waters of his home life. His unpredictable mother and soft spoken sister kept him on his toes. So he learned at a young age to pick up on cues to how those around him are feeling. And he thought he was pretty good at it.

But something about Marinette confused him. It wasn’t her stuttering, or her sometimes erratic behavior whenever she got flustered, those were predictable. He had learned what moves to take in order to keep her comfortable around him, and she seemed grateful for it. It wasn’t even the sneaking suspicion that she was Ladybug. No, what had Luka utterly baffled was Marinette’s sudden aversion of him.

He wondered if it was because of her feelings for Adrien, mixed with guilt. Although that didn’t make much sense. Marinette couldn’t help who she did or did not have feelings for, and just because Luka made it clear how he felt long ago, she didn’t owe him anything. And he had expressly stated that he supported them if that is what would make her happy, and she had seemed relieved. So why was it that she was avoiding him now?

Whenever Luka was around, Marinette seemed to shrink in on herself. She would get quiet, her cheeks flushing pink and her eyes anywhere but where he was. It didn’t matter what he did to try and make her more comfortable, she always shied away.

Luka tried hard to think back to anything that could have lead to this. The last time things had been normal between the two of them was at the last group sleepover that had been on the boat. He had left that night to go sleep over at one of his own friends’ place and when he came back the next morning, she had apparently been the first one to leave.

Something must have happened that night to make Marinette suddenly change her attitude towards him. He decided to gently pry Juleka for answers. If something had happened to make Marinette dislike him, he wanted to apologize. Maybe he couldn’t change how she felt, but he wouldn’t be able to rest easy feeling like he had somehow offended her.

The evening after Luka decided to try and get some answers, he waited until Juleka was brushing her hair out at her vanity to ask. “Hey Jules,” he said, attempting to sound casual. He heard the brush stop moving through her hair, and he knew she was listening, “did I somehow make Marinette mad at me?”

“What?” Juleka turned to look at him, confused.

“She’s been avoiding me for a while now, so I wondered if I’d done something to upset her,” he sighed, “Normally I’d just ask her, but every time I get near her she looks so uncomfortable I can’t bring myself to.”

Juleka set her brush down and moved to sit next to him on his bed, “Look,” she started, “normally I wouldn’t say anything, because I don’t like telling people’s business. But I know for a fact Mari doesn’t hate you.”

Luka let out a sigh of relief, and Juleka chuckled quietly. “Then why is she avoiding me? She has been since the last time you all hung out.”

“Probably because she told everyone that night that she wanted to stop pursuing Adrien.”

“What does that have to do with me?” Luka tried not to sound too happy at the news, but anyone would be happy to learn that they had a chance with the one they’re interested in.

Juleka rolled her eyes, “Obviously it’s because of you. And as soon as Alya found out she started hatching plans for Marinette to confess to you.”

Luka couldn’t help the blush that spread across his face. “Oh?” he managed to choke out.

“Yeah,” Juleka sighed, “And Marinette seemed to shut down right after that. Honestly? I think the thought of more grandiose plans blowing up in her face scared her. From what Alya tells us, almost every time Marinette tried with Adrien she ended up mortified.”

Luka looked down at his hands thoughtfully, “Okay then,” he said with finality, grabbing his phone and pulling up his text message conversation with Marinette.

“What are you doing?” Juleka asked.

“Making the first move,” Luka smiled, typing up a message to send.

He’d start slow, but he’d take the lead for now. Marinette was more than capable of doing it herself, but it seemed she needed to rebuild her confidence a bit. Luka was more than happy to be the one to help her get it back.

Just a quick note: This is not a ship fic. This will be focused primarily on Marinette bringing about justice and recognizing feelings within herself and seeing the true feelings of others. There will be mentions of Adrien and Luka’s feelings for her, but the fic will not lean more towards one or the other. Just a heads up! 

Chapter 1

There are a lot of things that could be said about Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She is caring, determined, talented, and all around a force to be reckoned with when she had her mind set on something. She even seemed to have her entire life figured out. She had connections, she had skill, and she was dependable. Sure, she seemed to have a bit of a problem showing up on time occasionally, but what did that matter when she always pulled through anyways? But even the most amazing, seemingly invincible people have their weak spots. Even people who seem to have their life together struggle. And for Marinette, her weakness was not what anyone would expect (or likely believe). 

Marinette had a lot on her plate, more so than what most people thought. Yeah, she was class representative as well as the designer for not only Kitty Section, but occasionally Jagged Stone as well, but she was also one of the two saviors of Paris. School can be difficult enough on its own, but with the added responsibility and her lack of being able to say no, she often found herself burnt out. But Marinette, despite that, would never dream of complaining about it. Those responsibilities gave her a sense of purpose, showed her that she had the ability to do for those she cares about the most. She didn’t think anyone would be able to take that from her, or shake her from the happy life she had built for herself. 

That was until Lila came along. 

Marinette looked down at the text message on her screen, the letters floating around in her mind but not clicking. The text message might as well have been in Latin. But no, there it was, in plain French:

“Hey Marinette, would you like to go get coffee with me tomorrow? As a date.”

She backed out of the messages, her other conversations with other friends appearing as a list. Group chats for her girl friends, Kitty Section, and even one with Jagged and Penny, as well as other separate conversations. But at the top of the list now was her conversation with Luka. She tapped the conversation again and the entire message stream pulled up, the text the same as it was before.

So she wasn’t hallucinating. Or at least, if she was it was really convincing. She continued to stare down at her phone. Tikki, who had been chatting away happily about how much she liked the cookies Marinette let her try, stopped her excited babbling and looked at Marinette with concern, “Marinette? What’s wrong?”

Marinette only held up her phone screen for Tikki to see, and Tikki only spent a second reading before she lit up, “Oh that’s wonderful! Isn’t it?”

“I don’t know...” Marinette said softly. She set her phone to the side, knowing Luka won’t mind if she doesn’t respond right away. He never rushed her, and was always so careful to make sure she was comfortable. She tucked her knees up to her chest and rested her head on her knees, the movement making her spin slowly in her rolling chair.

“But you like him, Marinette!” Tikki said, still trying to keep her enthusiasm but also sounding confused.

“I do,” Marinette agreed, nodding, “I like him a lot. But it feels... too easy?”

“What do you mean?”

“I spent so long chasing after Adrien,” she sighed, “and every attempt I made crashed and burned and ended with me being so embarrassed. At the end of the day I was never any closer to telling him how I felt.” Marinette bit her lip, “And it isn’t Adrien’s fault, or my fault, or anyone’s fault really. I still think Adrien is a great guy, and I really hope we can be close friends someday, but I just don’t think we were meant to be any more than that. It got to the point where I was almost afraid to be around him because I knew I was somehow going to make a fool of myself.”

Tikki listened and hummed thoughtfully, “You know,” she started, “Complex human emotions aren’t something I fully comprehend. And it seems like this situation would classify as complex.”

Marinette laughed bitterly at that, “No kidding.”

Tikki flew closer to her face, and looked at Marinette with kind eyes that held wisdom only a godly being like the Kwami can possess, “So why don’t you make it simple?”

Marinette frowned, “Nothing about my life is simple, Tikki.”

Tikki giggled, “While it’s true your situation is unique compared to most, there are ways you can make it simple.”

“How?”

“By taking things one step at a time, of course,” Tikki lightly lectured, “As Ladybug you have to think a few steps ahead in order to save the day. But you aren’t always Ladybug. You don’t have to think multiple steps ahead to outsmart and enemy that isn’t even there. Think about the first step you want to take towards what will make you happy, and go on from there.”

“But—“

“You don’t have to have all the answers, Marinette. Even I don’t have answers to many things and I’ve been around much longer than you have,” suddenly Tikki’s eyes seemed tired, almost pained, but she still smiled, “I’ve learned that the only thing I can do is take things one step at a time.”

Marinette sat up, extending one hand out and moving so she could snuggle Tikki close to her face. She knew Tikki was right, but it was hard for her to do anything she felt unsure of, especially when it came to her own feelings. Tikki had shared something that obviously came from a place of vulnerability though, and Marinette would never ignore such heartfelt advice.

“Besides,” Tikki giggled after a moment of silence, “it’s about time someone made the first move that wasn’t you!”

Marinette blushed, the reality of the situation now clicking fully, “Oh my god he IS making the first move,” she scrambled for her phone, almost falling out of her chair, “and he actually called it a date!!!”

She held the phone triumphantly up in the air, spinning around and giggling ecstatically. When she brought it back down she gasped in horror as she realized she had sent him a rather eloquent keysmash in her excited movements.

Blushing even darker and typing quickly she sends, “Sorry! I dropped my phone. I would love to!”

She stared at the phone, tense as she watched the dots indicating his typing moved at the bottom. She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding when a, “Great! I can’t wait. See you after school?” popped up at the bottom.

“See you after school,” Marinette typed out, hesitating only for a second before adding a little pink heart emoji at the end. She hit send and bit her lip to fight back her smile.