#ehhhh it’s been long enough

[beardedhandstoadshark]

please gush about your passions and pastimes!!! I would love to hear about them

!?? (*⁰▿⁰*)!!!!

Sure!! Though I fear videogames might be too repetitive given that’s…basically the entirety of this blog already, plants already got a post, and drawing a whole sideblog, soooo!

MUSIC! I play instruments! Though I‘m not sure if it’s counted as playing 4 or 1 because Violins and Violas are counted as 2 different instruments even though Violas are just Violins in alto /slightly deeper, while playing the whole ensemble of Sopran, Alto, Tenor, and Bass recorders still counts as just playing the recorder.

(Ik what you’re probably thinking now, and I could make a whole essay about the danger of self-perpetuating stereotypes using them as an example here…but I‘m not gonna do that.) ANYways-

Bass recorders are frickin huge! Mine is almost a meter long, and the only reason it isn’t is because of the angle mine’s got to make playing easier. It’s put in wrong here so it could be lied down properly. Also mines made by Yamaha aka the…motorcycle guys? That for some reason also make instruments?? Ig both use pipes but still super specific lol. Also! Theyre an octave/8 notes higher than is usually counted for other instruments, so the tenor and Bass here would be the Soprano and Alto on other instruments.

Apparently a supposed reason for that is because they’ve got very clear sounds, which means there’s not much of a wobble into higher tones like most other instruments, making them sound lower in comparison to their notes.

Anyways the Alto (the red one)‘s my favorite! Ive been playing it for a long time and it’s actually so old that if you were to buy the exact same model from the same manufactures now, the whistle shape? would have a slightly different form :0 You can play them very fast and lose with a good grip unlike the bigger ones which are, well, bigger and therefore have to be a bit clunkier, but the sounds dont murder ear drums like the soprano can sometimes do even if you properly know how to play it. Again, one octave higher than other instruments. It’s like only playing the rightmost keys on a piano. The low notes are fine, but the high ones…not so much XD

Also got myself a keyboard for pretty cheap a while ago and have been trying to self-teach myself. Not working that great because going from "keeping your hands in one place while moving fingers a lot“ to "moving your whole arm around a lot while keeping your hand rigid so the chords stay the same“ is…quite the jump! Also I‘m ironically really tone-deaf. And I mean really. Tone-deaf. …still managed to learn the Tetris theme though! :D

Aside from that, there’s really not much I do that isn’t spontaneous? Mostly due to a lack of time. Like for example, officially I’ve got a blue belt in karate if that’s anything XD In reality more of an orange belt though cuz said lack of time cut what would be 2 times per week down to 2 times per month, and that’s…not a lot to get good, really. Quite shocked I ever managed to get the green one, either. Would absolutely get destroyed in a fight, but at least it sounds cool! And if I ever need to draw really lose but rough clothing, I can make the references myself :3

Uhhh ye. Anyways thank you so much for the ask! :D !!

[kazumist]

DRUNK WORDS ARE SOBER THOUGHTS .ᐟ

✩ — in which you found yourself confessing to your childhood friend, soshiro. all thanks to the liquid courage you got.

✩ — includes: hoshina soshiro x gn!reader. fluff. cw: reader is implied to wear makeup (but i didn't really use any gendered terms haha), ooc!hoshina i think.. uhm i wrote him differently here than how i usually write him ack TT. wc: 778. one (1) pet name used (bub). reblogs and feedback are very much appreciated !!

“let’s get you home.” hoshina swings your arm over his shoulder as he places his arm around your waist to balance you in his hold. “huuuuh? have we met before?’ you ask as your words are slurred. you look at the man holding you, squinting your eyes to get a good look at him (though that doesn’t really help because nothing is really processing for you at the moment). “we’ve been literally friends since we were kids.” hoshina says.

“ehhhh? soshiro?! no way! you’re all… you’re all so grown up now!” you exclaimed. soshiro takes note of the blush on your cheeks, and the way you keep stumbling in your steps. although it’s rare, he just sighs as he confirms that you were absolutely drunk at the moment. “that’s because i ain’t a kid anymore, you silly.”

getting you back to your dormitory was a hard task, even for the vice captain of the third division. only because during your trip back you kept making random comments like how soshiro was almost as pretty as the moon (you were looking at a street lamp thinking it was the moon) and he could only hold back his laugh.

as hoshina settles you on your bed, he proceeds to remove your makeup from your face. knowing you this long was enough for him to become familiar with your routine when it comes to attending celebrations like these. he gently wipes the cosmetic products from your face, making sure to keep quiet because you finally slept.

well, apparently, you still woke up either way. “you know, hiro…” the nickname rolled off of your tongue perfectly—almost too perfectly, if soshiro must admit. only you could call him that; after all, you were the one who came up with that nickname for him anyway. you stared at him with half lidded eyes, too tired to fully open them. “you have a stupid face.” you finish.

hoshina found himself dumbfounded.

“eh?”

“but it’s my favorite face to look at.”

oh.

"i suppose i'm grateful for the compliment.” he pushes the hairs that were hiding your face aside and chuckles. “you should go home; i might do something stupid.” he tilts his side to the side in confusion. “like what?”

“like kissing you.” he froze.

surely, this is just the alcohol, right? soshiro wonders, surprised at your words as he held his breath. “or maybe i roll off of my bed and end up sleeping on the floor.” you continue. he lets out a sigh of relief. soshiro only kept his feelings for you to himself. though he’d casually make some gestures, and that’s good enough to question if you’re crossing the line between friends and lovers.

“you should sleep. you’re completely drunk right now.”

“i'm totally, absolutely not at all drunk at all. like... at all!”

“sure, and i’m not the vice captain of this division.” he receives a pout from you as you turn away from him. he laughs at your antics, gently shaking you as he apologizes. you refused to face him as you focused your gaze on the wall. liquid courage was no joke—because you somehow feel more confident to admit more... personal thoughts to the man who’s sitting behind you.

“hey, soshiro?”

“yeah? are you feeling a bit better now?”

“i… would you hate me if i said that i like you? like, you know… more than what we are right now.”

once again, hoshina froze. his breath hitched as he processed what you had asked. would you hate me if i said that i like you? your voice echoed in his head. you still refuse to face him but you know that he knows that he could see you right now. no, he wouldn’t hate you—hell, why did you think that he would hate you because of that in the first place? he would be ecstatic!

“can you face me for a minute, bub?” the pet name came off so smoothly—you were the only one he called that with. you hesitantly, roll to your other side, looking up to the man sitting on the side of your bed. you quickly avoided his gaze, but his hand pushes away your hair from your face again. “i wouldn’t hate you for that, but i’d rather not have this conversation when you’re drunk like this. so don’t forget this conversation, ‘kay? we’ll talk about it once you wake up. can you promise me to remember this, bub?”

“i promise. how could i… forget…” you trailed off. yawning in between your words before your eyes finally decided to rest themselves.

soshiro feels delighted that he has something to look forward to for tomorrow.

[thiccpersonality]

The Realization

It's hard being the only human in a team full of meta-humans, aliens or straight up gods, but Bruce manages to get by...even if internally he's overly critical of the work he does, always comparing himself to others and telling himself to do better. But, he secretly counts his blessings one-by-one at how he has friends colleagues that reassure him everyday that he does so much-yes, even when he doesn't ask for it...Clark always tells him it's in his eyes, that's how he knows Bruce wants it.

Bruce finds that stupid though, the only thing in his eyes is exhaustion, and if not exhaustion, then anger; and if not anger, then it's probably a cocktail of self-loathing, self-hate and self-deprecation sprinkled with a healthy dose of "I wish I was dead."

Anyhow, Bruce counts his blessings secretly, even if it doesn't seem like he's doing so. And while it's hard being one of the only humans without a power in a group full of meta-humans or fully fledged super powered beings, he is grateful for the other aspects of power he has: his name, his face, his money, influence-and one of his actual favorites...when he's in a good mood-his body. Bruce isn't an idiot (Jason: "Not all the time anyway!"), he sees the way people eye him up and down, both men and women alike, he knows their thoughts towards him...or well, his body at least.

He has seen the way women eye his arms and pecs (Wally: "You mean, Batboobs®!? And doesn't everyone eye those?"), watches the way mens eyes glaze over when staring at his mile long legs.

Which brings us to how Bruce never truly feels small, not anymore at least. Even if he was of smaller height for a man (or in general) his position in life and as a hero/vigilante would make him feel and appear big to people. So, Bruce hasn't felt small in a very long time, he tends to not pay attention to things like height much-to reiterate: he never feels small because 1. He isn't and 2. Even if he was, who would be brave enough to tell one of the richest men on earth-let alone THE Batman that he's short?

The answer: no one.

So while Bruce has never had anyone say to his face that he's short, he's the World's Greatest Detective™ (Jason and Stephanie: "Ehhhh...occasionally.) and can see for himself the difference of him compared to everyone else.

Who is everyone else you ask? Well, it's the people he works with and-and Jason. It's kind of hard for Bruce to truly pay attention to height when he never pays attention to it in the first place or when he's usually in life-threatening situations to really care, in fact, he doesn't know why he is even obsessing over such a thing-'but you do know'-his mind replies. The thing Bruce hates most is that he does-he does know what kick-started this whole height thing, and it was his son; Jason.

XXX

It was any other normal day at Wayne Manor...if you count your son entering your top-secret cave injured as normal. Bruce had his mask off, his icy blue eyes analyzing the information on his computer unblinkingly, there's been an issue with abductions recently and he doesn't want to waste any time on finding out who is up to it, so Bruce has been working overtime (Alfred in a tired tone: "As usual...") trying to find out who it is.

Just as his brain is stringing something together, he hears the sound of a motorcycle outside the Cave, Bruce's brain immediately switches to finding out who it could be. He takes into account every person already inside the house, outside of it, what said people outside said they were doing until his brain very obviously deduces that it must be Jason. Hm? Should he heat some leftovers up for Jason? What is the other here for? Why is he even overthinking it? Jason is free to come over anytime he wants...

....

.....

......

But what if the reason is bad? Is Jason mad at him again? Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose from the sudden headache he gets from his mind panicking, the man just groans softly and turns around just in time to see Jason riding into the Cave, his eyebrow raising suspiciously at the lack of fancy tricks his son bothered not doing.

Bruce silently analyzes his son's body for any signs of distress, starting from his head, he immediately noticed the crack in the helmet and can feel his muscles tighten in worry before remembering he's trained his kids to fight and be able to receive hits as well. The thing that causes him to stand up though is the fact that Jason hasn't noticed him yet, and the way the young man is holding his side isn't helping to ease Bruce's racing mind.

"Jason, is everything alright?"

Hm? Was that too forward of him? Bruce knows his children, but he especially knows Jason and Damian hate being asked for signs of-what they deem as-weakness and injury (Damian sipping his tea: "Wonder where we learned that from, father?)

Jason finally looks up at Bruce, his tone sounding a bit slurred as he speaks, "Jus' fine, B. A little-" he grunts as he stumbles off his bike-"scratch never...hurt me." Okay, so it's more than a little scratch, Bruce catches Jason and can't control the immediate frown he makes when the boy doesn't bother fighting his hold. "What actually happened? It's not just a little scratch...you are clutching your side like you've been sh-" his breathing hitches at the words he almost uttered, w-was Jason actually-

"What? S-Shot? Why's it matter if-" Jason quiets down when Bruce's words finally process, his baby blue's widening under his mask at the small ways his dad is starting to panic from the thought-"No! I was jus' stabbed is all...no shots."

Bruce will get on himself later about how his body relaxed a bit more when finding out his child wasn't shot, I mean, what kind of father feels relieved that their kid was just stabbed? He knows-deep down-that it's his...ahem..."trauma response" to guns, but it sucks for him to realize he finds himself more at ease when people he knows are hurt in different ways that aren't a gun...he feels like a horrible person when it happens.

For now though, his main priority is his son who is losing blood, blood that Bruce is finally noticing on Jason's hand.

Bruce grunts as he brings his son closer to his body, feeling momentarily surprised when he lets out the sound from moving the younger. Since when did he ever grunt when moving his children? Another thing is, when did Jason get so heavy in the first place? When did his once small boy pack on so much muscle and-oh, God...please...when did Jason ever have to bend his knees when Bruce held him?

His body is on autopilot and he can feel himself moving to the medical table, but his eyes are busy staring at Jason's bent knees, his mind screaming at him that this must be a prank his son is pulling-oh! Or maybe Bruce is actually in an alternate universe where his child is bigger than him.

Bruce sucks in a deep breath when arriving at the table, gently lying his son down so he can get to work on stitching his boy up while also giving a (most likely) hypocritical lecture on how Jason should stay safe.

XXX

It was ever since that day that Bruce has been hyper fixated on his own height, along with the height of others. He hates how he's been sneaking in tests and making things awkward with his family because he chooses not to answer and instead rushes off to panic when realizing Jason is bigger than him.

It all happened as soon as Jason was patched up too, his mind recalls every stupid miniscule little detail, from Jason's clothes to the way his hair was messy from sleep and-the worst part-how he had to look up at the nineteen-year-old when the young man got close enough to him. Barefoot and all. The worst part is how Jason didn't even seem to notice it, and Bruce is NOT risking letting his son know, because then he will be picked on for being smaller than him and then his Bluejay will no doubt drag his siblings into this.

Not to mention how Bruce doesn't want to deal with a furious Damian who will demand that they, in his words, "stop disrespecting father before he slits their throats."

It has been a miserable couple months for him-and don't you judge him for keeping this obsession up for months! How is anyone-let alone a parent-supposed to process that they are shorter than their kid? Bruce holds back his frustrated tears at realizing his children are grown and growing, for goodness sakes, he had a meltdown just yesterday when it caught up to him that Richard is a fully grown man...he will never let anyone know about how he clutched onto old pictures of his eldest while crying.

And everyday Bruce is hoping and praying against Damian's growth...of course he doesn't want his son to be stunted in his puberty process...but if he decides to stay little forever then that is perfectly okay with him.

Besides panicking over his family's growth, which, yay for them...really, Bruce has been noticing-and I mean, TRULY noticing, his friends colleagues heights. There are certain people where it's just so noticeable, like J'onn for example, that guy is so huge that you are stupid if you don't notice it. Another hero is Big Barda, I mean, she's a seven foot tall woman...you would obviously notice that.

But there are just some people he noticed it with but it didn't bother him before (thank you Jason for kick-starting this!) And now Bruce is constantly comparing himself to the most closest of colleagues to one's he barely speaks to, it's insane how many files he's gone through just to look at heights. His two closest friends colleagues Diana and Clark are two people he didn't bother with height wise. It didn't matter since they made him feel small in different ways...I mean, you have the Amazonian princess with strength and skills that would put any living creature to shame and a Kryptonian that is more human than most humans, who truly has a heart of gold despite any negative views towards him.

And then there is Bruce: cold, stoic, a touch too sarcastic, jaded, cynical, a negative Nancy, a party pooper (Jason says that), no fun, emotionally stunted, anxious, depressed, stressed, old, washed up, unfunny-and the worst of all; short.

Bruce holds back his distressed noise as Wally West, AKA: Richard's best friend who has been over a million times, stands next to him with that ever bright smile of his and is animatedly talking, effectively ruining his depressing train of thought. When did he get so big? So...grown? He takes in the maturity of his once soft face, the man is still cute no doubt, but he isn't that same round faced boy who bothered him about Alfred's cookies. Okay, okay, maybe he still is that same kid...just older looking and taller now.

"-and that's why I'll need that penthouse full of Agent A's cookies."

Bruce blinks away the sudden wetness in his eyes and looks down (ha!) at The Flash confused, though to the normal eye he looks the same old disinterested as usual. "You need a penthouse? What happened to that modest apartment you got?" Wally blinks in shock behind his mask before giving a toothy smile, "Is that what your mind got from that? I was joking about the penthouse...though Agent A's cookies would still be much appreciated."

The ginger shifts in place nervously at the way Batman is staring at him, did he do something wrong? The only thing that somewhat assures Wally that things are okay is the fact that Bruce gives a grunt of agreement before walking off.

He can't take this anymore! If Bruce stays around Wally any longer he's afraid he'll start crying in front of the kid. Instead, he'll just head to the cafeteria and drown his sorrows in today's dessert. Bruce walks in and sees that Diana is already in line, holding back his grumble as he stands next to the woman and internally mourns the fact his head only reaches her shoulder. "Good morning, my friend! It's a lovely day in space is it not?"

Bruce grunts and doesn't bother looking up at Diana, "It's the same view we see everyday we come up to the Watchtower."

The Amazonian just smiles brighter, warmth radiating from her mood. "Though we see it everyday it doesn't make it any less gorgeous up here." Bitterness. Bruce's heart is filled with bitterness at the words "up" and "here" , is-is Diana teasing him? Did she somehow find out about his fixation and is now subtly letting him know that she knows?

The feeling of warmth, like that from the sun, at his right side causes Bruce to automatically look up at the person standing so close to him. His icy blue eyes only widen under his mask at fully tilting his head back to look up at Clark, he feels like sobbing when realizing his head only comes to Clark's chest, why is the man even taller than Diana!?

"Good morning Bruce, Diana. Lovely morning up here, is it not?"

There's that stupid word again! And is it really a good morning when he's been suffering for so long? Bruce frowns at the gentle nudge at his side and Diana's jovial tone, "Told you the view is still beautiful." At Clark's questioning look Diana just smiles more, "Our friend here just is being a sourpuss today. He's grumpy about how I said the view is nice, he just replied about how we see it everyday."

Clark just smiles and looks down at Bruce, his smile turning amused when his friend doesn't move up the line. "Are you just going to stare at me all morning or will you move down the line?"

A scoff is all Bruce can give, not noticing the concerned looks shared over his head as he focuses on piling his food tray with dessert. The concern isn't necessarily from Bruce eating sweets, Diana and Clark both know how much their friend actually has a sweet tooth, the issue is coming from the fact he is willingly eating sweets in front of others on top of the amount it is. Clark just frowns worriedly and sits actual food on his plate while mouthing to Diana about what's wrong with Bruce.

In return, the princess just shakes her head and looks back down at Bruce, choosing to speak up. "You know, it's been awhile since we've eaten alone, just the three of us. Why don't we head to one of our rooms or something?" What she actually means by that is: "let's get Bruce alone so we can figure out what's wrong with him."

The two super powered heroes find themselves even more putoff at Bruce's distracted grunt...it is rare he pulls that one out, usually his grunts have some level of awareness to them, but this one is telling them that he's not actually paying attention. Which is cause for alarm in and of itself. Plus, Clark and Diana have been getting calls from Bruce's family, they are worried about how he's been acting as of late. They report Bruce is running off on them whenever they ask him what's wrong...which actually isn't out of character for Bruce, but if the Batfamily are saying it's different than usual, then it's different than usual.

The two taller heroes lead the shorter to his room, punching his code in before the door opens and they watch as Bruce automatically walks over to his bed and sits on it, shoving a cookie in his mouth and causing Clark to signal to Diana in confirmation that something is wrong.

They use their friend's distracted state to quietly talk about it while joining him in the room, "What's going on with him?" Diana raises her brow as she asks, tilting her head up and to the side so Clark can whisper in her ear. "I don't know for sure...but his lip is jutting out into a micro-pout. I quickly scanned him to see if he was hiding injuries, and while he's not, his muscles are tense as if he's holding back something."

Diana softly ah's and sets her tray down on Bruce's desk, the noise causing the man to look up at them finally. His eyebrows raising when noticing he's in his room, "Why didn't we just eat in the cafeteria?" Bruce holds back his fidgeting at the look the taller two heroes share.

Clark clears his throat, "We were going to originally...but we noticed you were acting off and suggested eating in one of our rooms as a test-"

Diana, being one to never hold back, gets to the point. "A test you failed, Bruce. To be honest, you've been acting off enough to worry your family into calling us to step in. So, can you please tell us what's going on?" Bruce feels genuine embarrassment that this is where his fixation has gotten him, he's too flustered to admit that his issue is the fact he's begun to notice people are bigger than him, I mean, what kind of issue is that?

At Bruce's silence Clark steps forward slightly, his voice patient and gentle when he speaks.

"We are your friends, B. Heck, you even feel like family. And family is there for each other just like me and Di are here for you. Jason has been feeling particularly bad lately...he says he didn't know what he did this time to make you so upset with him, you keep staring him down angrily only to storm off when he looks back at you."

Bruce feels angry with himself for letting such a stupid non-issue get this far. His looks of "anger" weren't anger towards Jason at all, he knows when he thinks hard about stuff he can sometimes look mean apparently, but he was never upset with his Jaylad...the distress was just showing on his face and Bruce most likely masked it with the first emotion that came to mind, one that's easiest for him to express or replicate; anger or irritation.

Bruce hates the involuntary distressed sound that escapes his crumb covered lips, however, for the sake of his family and ending this stupid misunderstanding, he chooses to be...honest (Batfamily: *collectively gasping*)

"Jason...he's bigger than me-" Bruce keeps the Batman mask on so he won't be too vulnerable, his hands tightening on the metal tray from the thought-"For months I have been noticing the sudden growth of my children and I...I didn't know what to do with that information. Did you know that Jason has to crouch when I hold him now? Since when did he need to do that?" At this point of his ranting, Bruce is out of bed and pacing across the room while his friends patiently listen.

"And then it hit me one day that Richard is truly a man now. Maybe that's why we got into so many fights before? I never truly realized that he didn't need my help like before-" Bruce pauses in the middle of the room and clenches his cape in his fists-"He is so much taller now and shining brighter than the little boy I picked up. Timmy is even starting to grow a bit more...which, I don't know if I should be upset or pleased that he's finally growing, that boy scares me sometimes with how small he was."

Bruce's hands instinctively reach up to run his fingers through his hair and he huffs at the mask being in the way, choosing to hide his hands underneath his cape instead.

"Wally is even so big now, did you know that? I remember the young boy with that fat freckled face pestering me about Alfred's cookies...and now that boy has the audacity to get big on me, I think I hate realizing that Dickie-bird is actually taller than his friend now, it's only by one or two inches-but still!" Bruce starts pacing again, his nerves building up once more and telling him to move.

"And don't get me started on Damian. I feel I constantly am trying to sabotage his growth...I never got to see him as a baby and so I hope he stays that small, chubby faced little boy I've come to know. I feel horrible for wishing against his growth, but I want to make his childhood as enjoyable as possible, did you know he didn't even know what movies were when he came here? He was deprived of fun and he can't grow too quickly now or fun childhood memories can't be made."

Bruce stops to finally stare at Diana and Clark, pointing accusingly at them.

"And then you two! I noticed it before, but it was never something of interest to me. I didn't need to pay attention to your heights when I feel small in other ways with you two...you-" Bruce grunts at Clark gently slamming into him and hugging him, the man sounding a mix of fond, touched, baffled and sad. "You don't need to feel small with us. I for one think you are bigger than any of us in many different ways...I mean, you just admitted to having a crisis at realizing your family grew."

Diana joins in on the hug with a soft chuckle, "I'm just surprised you didn't notice our height difference sooner. Clark and I always talked about how cute it is to pick you up, your our tiny human."

The woman just smiles more when Clark nudges her side in warning for her playful words, "But in all seriousness. This has to be the cutest moment we've seen from you ever, instead of a midlife crisis you are having a parental crisis-" Diana cackles again when Clark pokes her side again-"What? I am being serious. But also, this just shows how much you care...and I think it's only normal to feel this way when you never expected to have a family of your own in the first place."

Bruce's breath hitches at the gentleness in which Diana speaks the last part, his eyes prickling with tears at realizing deep down she's right. Ever since he took in Richard he was always amazed and scared at having a family, and no matter how much he's tried to deny it in his worst moments, that's what Richard became ever since he thought of taking him in. Bruce never expected a family, which is why he tries so hard to deny it...and I guess after years of taking care of children it's finally caught up to him that his family-more specifically, his children (because that's who they are) have grown into functioning adults.

He never thought he would want a family after losing his in that alleyway, but if anyone were to take down his defenses...of course it'd be a child.

Clark gently reaches up to tug Bruce's mask off and finds himself wanting to cry at seeing the fat droplets-hanging on for dear life-onto Bruce's eyes, even now his friend doesn't want to seem weak. He can't help but chuckle at the incredulous look Bruce gives him for wanting to cry as well.

"You can cry, Bruce. What are friends for?"

Bruce feels his face grow red, his body loosening in Clark and Diana's hold as months of tension leaves his being through his tears, choosing to hide his face in his friends strong bodies. He hates crying and how good it makes him feel afterwards, he doesn't think he deserves that feeling most days, but for now, it's okay. Bruce also can't help the eye roll at hearing Clark sniffle as well, he's such a crybaby. Diana just smirks at her two boys, carding her long, elegant fingers through Bruce's hair, the two taller heroes paying close attention to Bruce as he shifts in their hold and speaks up. Voice slightly muffled.

"Never speak about this to anyone."

Diana and Clark share a look before silently coming into agreement and lifting Bruce off his feet, reveling in his annoyed protests with laughter.

"We wouldn't dare."

("1. He isn't and 2. Even if he was, who would be brave enough to tell one of the richest men on earth-let alone THE Batman that he's short?" Does the second option imply or mean Bruce is short or is it just a scenario? You decide! I constantly switch between Bruce being a genuine short king and him just being around people that make him feel freaking short 😂.

"Clark gently reaches up to tug Bruce's mask off and finds himself wanting to cry at seeing the fat droplets-hanging on for dear life-onto Bruce's eyes, even now his friend doesn't want to seem weak." <-(Damian and Jason sipping on their tea: "Seems we found that answer to who we learned that from. 😌")

Also, I am so sorry this story got so long! I didn't mean to 😭. This idea has been in my head, and I usually forget my ideas...but this time I actually wanted to remember lol. This is also kind of based off of the one day I was hugging my baby brother and realized I actually had to look up at him...he's only 14 (while writing this I also just remembered he's 14 😭😭😭), I went back into my room and literally just sat there reminiscing on my bed about when he was brought home from the hospital to all the good times we had together and even things I wish I did different with him growing up 😂.

Also, also, I apologize for the constant whiplash from some semblance of humor (or something), to slightly crack-ish (I think so at least) writing to things getting deep and emotional. I was feeling fickle with the vibe of this story I guess, so I said: "why not everything?" 😂😂😂

This is getting even longer cause I like talking too much in notes lol, so I'm going to leave with a thank you! Anyone and everyone who bothers to read this long mess is very much appreciated!

Please remember to stay safe, happy, healthy and of course lovely as always. 💛)

[mythmash]

Bouncer!Sukuna AU Pt. 9 - Yorozu (Alternate Ending)

Bouncer!Sukuna x Stripper/Dancer!Reader. Warnings: MDNI 18+, bullet point fic, uncle!sukuna, angst, the other dancers being firm but supportive friends, panic attack, anxiety, sukuna experiencing fear for the first time and he hates it A/N: this is a collaborative work made with the amazing @pastelbunnelby, @pastelpixies & @chaoskrakenuwu Series Masterlist || Previous | Next

Instead of locking yourself in the bedroom what if you actually leave?

What if you hastily put on some clothes, pack a bag for a few nights, and leave?

You aren’t leaving forever just long enough to collect yourself

Maybe crying in the car a bit because admittedly that was a lot even for you because you’re used to his antics but this feels different it feels…wrong

You leave your phone because you know he’s not going to stop calling you and you just…go

You stay at a friend’s house, probably one of the dancers, and vent about what happened

And while they comfort you they can’t help but kinda say what did you expect?

You think a man like that is relationship material?

Fun, sure but a real relationship?

Ehhhh.

And while it’s certainly not what you want to hear you can’t help that little logical voice in your head telling you they’re right

No one in their right mind would just go “Everything is fine! It’s totally cool that your murderous boyfriend’s crazy ex showed up!” because what if she isn’t the last?

You didn’t know about her so who knows what else is in store for you?

They don’t mean to be judgmental to you they know you’re smart but they also care and know that love (is it even love at this point or is the thrill?) can be blinding

They need to ground you and they’ll be your anchor while you come to your senses and not let that crazy bastard anywhere near you

Because yeah, he’s scary

Yeah, they know the rumors

They’ve seen Sukuna beat a guy to almost death

And yeah, some of them can understand the thrill and wanting to feel protected in this line of work, but there’s also the thought of “if he could do it to them, he could do it to you”

He was clearly doing it to Yorozu, or at least treating her horribly when she was apparently close to him

Or at least close enough to be let into his apartment

Which is pretty fucking close because most of the dancers thought he lived in his car or something

But they love you too much to not do what they can

You don’t sleep well that night or really at all but you know who’s faring way worse than you?

Sukuna.

He’s freaking the fuck out and for once in his life he’s experiencing real fear

He’s done things that even the thought of would have the average person shaking like a leaf but this, the thought of losing you, really losing you has shaken him to his core

The fear and anxiety hit and Sukuna thinks he just might be dying because he’s never felt like this before

It only amps up because he knows he has real enemies out there

He feels so out of control for the first time because no amount of connections can help him if he doesn’t know where to even start

Because what if they get to you first?

This is not a matter of resources, it’s time.

And heaven forbid they’re faster

He’s good, but he’s not god he can’t stop everything no matter how much he wants to

And now he knows Yorozu is out there and pissed the fuck off because of him

It’s been so long since he’s been around her, he doesn’t know what or who she knows

What if she was waiting outside and saw you leave? Would she go after you herself? Would she tell someone else?

She knows people are out to get Sukuna and what better way to get to him than through you?

He doesn’t know what to do

He’d probably have a heart attack if he wasn’t so focused on you

He realizes you left your phone which only makes him more anxious (since when does he feel anxious about anything?) because not only are you gone, he doesn’t have a clue where you are and looking for you is going to take too much time

He wants to get to you now

You can be mad at him all you want, but you need to be mad at him somewhere he can protect you

So, he just gets in his car and drives

Doesn’t call, doesn’t text, he just goes door to door to each of your friends asking if they know where you are to which they all decline because they genuinely don’t, but based on the fact you didn’t tell him where you were going they sure as hell wouldn’t tell him either

Working at a club like them has taught them that much at least.

But he would find you eventually, and he’d do something neither of you would expect

Actually apologizing

It's quick, and clumsy, and a kind of passive aggressive, but you appreciate his attempt

You're not going back with him, though

Not tonight, anyway

After, he goes back to his place to give you some space and just collapses on the couch

He knows you're physically okay, and mentally you're a bit shaken up, even if you don't admit it, but he'd relax a tiny bit knowing where you are

Still, the exhaustion hits him like a truck and he's so emotionally drained he doesn't realize he's picking up his phone and dialing your number

It goes to voicemail because he still has your phone (he forgot to take it in his panic when he left to find you) but he's half-asleep so he leaves a message

“I’m so fucking sorry. I mean that. When—if you come back, you can do whatever you want. Yell, scream, hit me. You can even kick me out if you want, just….I want you to be safe. I need to know you’re safe. If anything happened to you—I fucking—I’ll do better, alright? I promise. I—I love you. So…please be safe.”

Because he still can't always tell you what he's feeling to your face - it feels too real, too raw, too vulnerable, but having a way to say it to you without saying it to your face eases his hesitation a bit

Then he passes out and forgets about it.

Then it'd go similarly blah blah blah grovel grovel grovel apology shopping trip that leads to a very tense conversation with his accountant, but above all else he'd sit you down and tell you to never just up and leave again

If you need space, fine, he won't stop, but not knowing where you are made him feel such a pit in his core that he never ever wants to feel again

He’s still clumsy, unsure of himself because he doesn’t do this, it’s all so new to him, but he’s trying he’s really trying

Coming this close to losing you would knock some much needed sense into him and teach him that his actions have very real consequences aside from danger and he takes the time to actively be better and atone

It’s sobering to him because up until this point Sukuna truly believed that he could get away with anything and he could say and do what he pleased

Along with the thought that he’d curated his experience well enough that none of his shit past or present would come back to you

It hits him that no. He really does not have control over everything nor can he just pretend like his uglier parts don’t exist with you even if he desperately wants to

It’s not that he doesn’t think you know anything, you know maybe too much, but he thinks it’s separate from the little bubble he’s built with you

And this made him realize that couldn’t be further from the truth and that if this is going to work he needs to be more forthcoming for you even if the thought disgusts him but it’s really for the greater good

And he wants to, god does he want to, he wishes he could tell you how much he loves you without his voice wavering or not being able to look you in the eye

But he’s not quite there yet so this will have to suffice he just hopes you can feel how deeply he cares for you

You eventually find the voicemail on your phone one night weeks later, and it gives you the strangest sense of comfort

It's like a weight is lifted off your shoulders

Sukuna finds you almost in tears on the couch

He has a brief moment of panic before he hears the voicemail and it leads to another, lighter conversation of you finally understanding how much he loves you

And maybe, just maybe, that's when he tells you, not just shows you, but tells you how much he loves you

[meanbossart]

Spicy Asks: The Sequel is here. I'm so, so sorry.

Oh he's a very passive guy, he likes being manhandled around and not having to do much of the work (a bit of a pillow princess one might say). As far as fetishes go, he does have fantasies about group sex and of being roughed up, but I think if put in a situation where he could practice it in a controlled environment he'd be like "EHHHH nevermind actually" and go home very quickly LOL

DU drow would have 100% banged Lae'zel if he hadn't killed her. He couldn't stand her personality but they would have gotten on like two peas in a pod in the sack.

He does find Shadowheart very pretty, but they struck up a friendship so quickly that I don't think he could see her in that way 🤷 but that's still a smash, technically speaking.

Jaheira. Ohhhh Jaheira. As far as general dynamics go she would have been the best choice after Astarion, probably - though there is no way in hell or high heavens that she would have ever let him touch her LOL regardless, DU drow finds her looks and personality to be very attractive.

He's pretty much utterly indifferent to anyone else. Wyll is too idealistic, Gale is Gale, Karlach isn't his type, Halsin gets on his nerves - oh, he WOULD have banged Mizora if he hadn't been heads over heels for Astarion by that point.

The man just likes his femmes I guess LOL

HMMMMMMM yes, but since it's not really a porn fic expect any scenes like that to be in line with what we've had so far, where there's more of a focus on developing character dynamics rather than gratuitousness (I hope I've gotten that across, at least LOL).

LOL, It's ok, it's a ridiculous not-name and I'm so sorry for all the people I have made confused and will continue to confuse because of it.

As for your question, definitely not! I personally like big-bottom/smaller-top scenarios so that's why I focus on it, and I do think character-wise those are the roles they fall into most naturally - but they switch around every so often when the mood strikes and it isn't really a big deal.

Oh are you kidding me? The guy LOVES being cared after in an intimate setting. Being doted on, groomed, checked up on, having his hair played with and clothes fixed up - he doesn't express it outwardly much, but these are all things that make his murderous little heart skip a beat. He was the same way pre-tadpole but it was mostly servants and Sceleritas doing it, so he didn't get much out of the exchange; and Orin didn't entertain this at all, or, if she ever did, it was very, very, very rarely and really just a crumb of intimate affection that he most likely misread anyways.

I'm not sure what to say to this one LOL the penis is full of blood already man I don't think a vampire needs to make it any more tempting to themselves to chomp down.

I wrote a thing about that not too long ago :D ! The answer is complicated but, mostly yes.

Alright you joke, but, if you don't think DU drow hasn't spent a little too long lingering over Astarion's feet and ankles then I got amazing news for you.

I touched on what they generally like on the previous edition of Wine Fuelled Spicy Asks, but as for what they like to do as a couple, it's probably a lot of body worship and some playful denial on both ends. Du drow thinks Astarion is the most elegant and limber thing he's ever seen (and he loves how he smells), and Astarion thinks DU drow's body is an expertly put together murder machine. They have a great time being mutually enamored with each other's (and their own) appearances.

I think they also venture into some blood-play and vapid threats of violence in the future, as a treat, but takes a while for them to trust themselves and each other enough to indulge in that kind of thing.

Needs a little direction, plus you gotta learn to enjoy a bit of teeth and a very slobbery time - also I think he distracts easily, It's nice to have a man who's willing to venture the whole perimeter with his mouth but sometimes you do just want him to stay on the prick. But generally speaking - yes, DU drow gives good head. Fun head, even!

What do you people want from me? Do you want schematics? Diagrams? Do you want me to compare their holes to famous people holes? Do you want me to take out my measuring tape and give you numbers, tell you which kind of produce each of them can fit in there???

One is pink, the other one is brown. One of them just looks normal and the other looks and feels a little like it been around the block a few times. ARE YOU HAPPY NOW.

[thessaralka]

you know what's always frustrated me about dragon age tho

the religions

they're built on shaky (or zero) foundations.

all major real world religions have SOME kind of powerful reason that people choose to believe in them - they're all deeply rooted in occult metaphysics, NDEs and cosmic mystical events, secret esoteric knowledge, human history, myth, generations upon generations of human blood and ritual and ceremony.

andrastianism is basically catholicism but we don't know why people believe in the maker. we just know that they do.

people believe in jesus christ as the son of god because there is powerful evidence of him existing, powerful spiritual truths there, powerful legends prophesying his existence, and powerful history (it's of course deeper than that but this isn't a post about christianity).

it's understandable why people believe in anrdraste as a goddess-figure, as she has a powerful legend.

people believe in "god/ the universe/ source/ brahman/ allah/ 'the force'" (different names for the same concept) because spirituality is an inherent part of existence, it is a foundational truth of our reality that can only be experienced individually and not (yet, quite) proven by science (unless you get into quantum mechanics and einstein's theories and so on). it requires faith, and faith only comes from experiencing "knowing" directly. it cannot be taught, and it cannot be measured.

we know next to nothing about why people would ever be convinced by the maker enough to believe in him/ it as a god.

the elder scrolls does religious lore REALLY well. the aedra and the daedra have a creation myth that goes back to the two primal forces in the universe (anu and padomay - which are basically masculine and feminine primal forces, the yin/ yang of daosim - this ties into real world religions and makes the world of ES feel very real, because we can relate to it).

as far as i know, the only creation myth we get apart from the maker's "he was displeased by his creation and turned his back on it" is from the alamarri/ avaar with korth the mountain-father who created the mountains and provides game (a god worthy of being worshipped, to offer such foundations).

like, what does the maker even do? yeah he "created the golden city" (ehhhh??? not really thoooo????) and got mad at the tevinter magisters (that was just them poking at solas's fade prison too much tho)... and created the veil (that was solas tho). so nothing the maker has done has actually happened, it's the byrpoduct of something the evanuris did. mostly solas.

thedas (particularly with the dalish worship of the evanuris) feels like a post-apocalyptic world that lost its religion and its reasons for believing in religion a long time ago, because they've been continuously decimated by blights/ war/ slavery/ loss/ degradation.

and perhaps that is the truth of it. their faith is bleak, and rootless, because the world of thedas is a post-apocalyptic world that is bleak, and rootless (thanks to solas and the evanuris who created the blight, and sundered the titans from their dreams).

the most honest religions in thedas are, in my opinion, the dwarven religion (which is not a religion at all, and instead a worship of skill and excellence), and the avaar religion, which is based in their communication with the spirit world - which makes sense! because spirits are the energy of an idea or feeling, and that energy is tangibly spiritual and powerful. andrastianism is cool too, except for the part about it being founded on andraste being the bride of the maker, so we're back at square one.

what the fuck do these people even believe in?

[starlordcumidk]

New Kind of Love

~chapter 1~

word count: 3.2k

notes: slight ooc, reader wears glasses, this is an AU of TASM!Peter where he is a fraternity brother. reader is portrayed as rude/stand-offish. reader is a tad neurodivergent. playful banter. please read this knowing that i am a newer author and the plot is based on a song.

warnings: not proofread, minor cursing? does that count?

Enough of "Love Lite"

And "I Can't Believe It's Not Love!"

Monday, October 21st, 2024.

School started back up eight weeks ago, frat, sorority, club rushs and event posters making anyones head spin. There were at least forty parties that happened just in the first six weeks of school, none you attended. Right now, the school was setting up for their next pep rally, big decorations all over the place, even in Siebert’s courtyard. 

Empire State University was known for its largely populated campus, even for a private school. Truly, the scholarships they offered were the biggest reason anyone was able to go. Those from out of state were even encouraged with extra offers, you included. 

You have been living rather normally, even with the hussle and bustle through the dorm halls every night, your favorite being the RA catching the girl down the hall with two gallon size ziplocs with coke and her boyfriend naked in the hall in the middle of September. 

It was refreshing, almost. Being back in New York always puts an extra pep in your step, especially after a very long, very hot, very southern summer spent back at your parents house. Not only was it over one-hundred and five degrees most days, the humidity was consistently breaking the ninety percent mark.

Even though you weren’t as lucky this year with housing and got the road facing room, six floors up— with a broken elevator nonetheless– you were comfortable. The room was decorated meticulously, just the way you liked it. Warm lighting from lamps, the big light never on, a rotary fan at the foot of your bed. Perfect.

The cool seventy degree weather was a welcome breeze as you opened the window, allowing yourself to get the dry, definitely polluted air into your lungs. Looking down at the road, even though it was nowhere near as beautiful as the courtyard, filled you with excitement every single time. It was a beautiful swarm of colors, bright jackets and scarves creating a moving mural with the fresh morning sun.

I missed this. The thought floods your senses as you feel your first genuine chill of the year.

This was home. Being surrounded by tall buildings, loud and awful people, hagglers and one very fit red-blue spandex hero, was comforting. Back home, there were no heroes to swoop in if you were threatened. Spider-Man was always a welcome guest, and you’ve definitely seen more of him these past few months than before. 

Maybe your paranoia was bad, but the idea of a sticky-gross-web man sweeping in and saving you made those thoughts calm down. Even if you thought the idea of being part spider was less than exciting. 

It was Monday, all of your aggravating and mundane classes were scheduled for this morning. It took effort to get dressed and go to your first lecture, but eventually you did.

As you walked across campus, you messaged back and forth with your close friend who still lived in your home state, so many thousands of miles away. 

Delilah: girl u have to go out and make more friends. i’m tired of being your only one. you: you know that isn’t happening right now. people find me too abrasive and that makes it hard enough as is. Delilah: ok well maybe be nice to people babe ? you: ehhhh not really my thing but maybe i’ll try for you < 33 Delilah: u better !!!!!! Delilah: hugs n kisses < 333 i gtg, reed is here you: it’s not even 9am so idk how you’re already at it with him… have a good day lilah.

You shake your head at the quick interaction and feel a moment of missing her before shoving your phone back into your pocket and taking a deep breath. Opening Dr. Howards lecture doors and seeing that you’re the first to show again, a small smile graces your lips as you make your way to your seat. 

It’s not long until the small, bubbly, blonde seventy-year-old woman walks in, big binders and a mug in hand. Following her are more of the students, none of which you know or care to know. You look away for a few minutes to gather you notebook and pencil to scribble nonsense notes to try and dissect later. 

And the lecture begins. 

—--------------

Peter, frankly, was over everything. He was the one who had to organize where people would be sleeping, how they’d fit into the chapter house and he even had to argue with the stupid underclassmen asking why he was the one with a private bathroom. Being in a frat was tiring, he was only here for the scholarship and housing opportunity. 

It was always the same, but luckily this was his last year he had to be involved with it. 

After this year, his bacholers in hand, he could just worry about graduate school. Everyone and everything outside of bioengineering and Spider-Man would wash off of him. His hands clean and life lonely, just as he liked it to be- with the exception of May. 

Even if one fleeting conversation leaves him enamored with the wrinkle of your nose, the way it caused the inner corners of your eyes to crease. He hadn’t been this way since highschool, it was scary and unwelcomed. Something he’d rather kill off and walk away from, but every day in the courtyard or the times you happened to be on the Q train at the same time as him, the weird adrenaline rush would light him on fire.

Mondays, Wednesdays and select Fridays were the worst. He was sure of it. 

Environmental Managment, a dumb class, but he took it to get his credit hours up, hoping to balance out his GPA…. Somehow, you were here too. Almost like a curse, he has to look at you from the back row of the class, the closest seat to the back entrance. You sat alone, front and center of the lecture hall. You were always there on time, which urged him to be too, it gave him extra time to stare. Even with this, he was never sure of your name.

—--------------

The teacher was droning on about some mudslide somewhere in California, babbling about the random effects it had on the surrounding citizens, the heavy rain that caused it. Your pencil was etching into the paper lazily with each slide. 

A small timer went off which indicated the end of class, but before you could react there was a loud clap and Dr. Howards mic was turned on. She only used it for important announcements or when the frat boys in the back wouldn’t shut up. 

“So, this semester is going really well. Many of you are keeping your grades and positivity up! But, we still need to discuss our final exam.”

A symphony of deep groans sound from the back, you feel your eye twitch at it. 

“Thank you, boys.” A pause and a glare, “Anyways, I have decided your final will be a presentation on a hypothetical scenario. In groups of two, that I assign, you and your partner will have to decide on a catastrophic event, it can be any of the ones we have discussed or any you find in your books. After picking the event, choose the setting, it can be close to home or even Australia, just make it realistic. No monsoons in New York. You two must decide how devastating it is and how the community will recover. The groups are in the class Canvas. Take care! Go Otters! Excelsior!” She closes her laptop and is out of the room before anyone can complain about her groupings.

You are quick to start thinking over ideas, most of which are tornado-centered. You’ve never experienced one, but the movie Twister was a classic at home when you were little. Quickly, you write down some ideas, tornadoes, hurricanes, mudslides…. 

You pack your books away and look into the list the professor had composed on your phone, scrolling through too many names before your gaze lands on yours next to… oh no.

Peter Parker. 

You feel dumb for a moment, you hadn’t realized he was in this course let alone the same exact class as you. Turning around to look for him, it’s hard. The cluster of bodies was too big to just be pairs discussing their ideas.

Then, your eyes meet a messy mop of brown, leaning over a laptop and the same sweater from back in summer all the way in the back. You feel nervous just looking at him, but you swallow the hard lump and start towards him. Of course he’d be all the way in the back, surrounded by sport and frat bro’s. 

With a deep breath, you tap on his shoulder. It causes him to jump, and for a moment he looks as nervous as you feel, but it disappears quickly and is replaced with a smile. 

“Hey, I know you.” Peter says it with a warm tone.

“Yep. Uhm… we were partnered for the project?” You say it coolly, staring down at him.

“Ah- so that's who you are, huh?” He tilts his head, slowly shutting his beat up laptop and leaning back in his chair. He says your name a few times under his breath, as if reciting it to himself. 

“Uh-huh….” You nod, something weird stirring in your stomach at the timbre he uses when whispering your name to himself. “So, what days are we meeting for this thing?” 

“Uh- we could use the free period on whatever days you want. As long as it isn’t at night, I have a job.” He shrugs, looking up at you and his smile falters. 

“Monday, Wednesday and Friday it is then.” You decide, grabbing the paper you scribbled ideas on and hand it to him.

He takes it and looks it over, his brows furrowed for a moment before looking back up to you. “We can’t meet today, but if you give me your number I’ll look these over and text you.” He is so soft spoken compared to the other frat guys around you, it is almost shocking.

“You have my school email. Use that.” You shrug, your tone almost rude as you speak. “Sorry, I mean- just email me about it and we can talk Wednesday….” It’s kinder this time, but the tone correction feels embarrassing.

“Oh- okay. Sure thing.” He nods and starts to gather his things around, looking you over before slinging his backpack over his shoulder, you couldn’t help but notice the skateboard sticking out from it. “See you then.” He says your name then he is gone, quickly leaving to go wherever he needed to be.

—-------------- <pbparker@empire.edu 

Sent at 2:27pm 10/21/2024

Let's do the hurricane and Louisiana idea. Meet me at the library at 12:30. 

Peter B. Parker

Get Outlook for iOS>

—--------------

Wednesday, October 23rd, 2024

You walk into the library, your eyes scanning the large area. Peter and you had agreed to meet on the first floor for ease of finding one another, but he hadn’t specified if he was at a table, a computer or in a private study room. You groan at the fact you never asked for any more specifics.

The building had three levels, ground floor was all peer-reviewed journals, textbooks, anything that was used for research and could be ran through scribbr for essays, the middle floor was dedicated to fiction and had very limited stock, only a few of the books were actually worth a read, the top floor was just old archives, nothing that was allowed to leave the library. 

It was a very tall, circular shape. Each floor visible from the entrance, glass sidings and the small tables or armchairs pressed against them. Red and gold quotes painted along the walls. Your personal favorite was by Madame Curie, it was directly above the checkout desk.

"One never notices what has been done; one can only see what remains to be done." 

Slowly walking through the shelves, looking at each and every table and bean bag, you can't seem to find that stupid mass of brunette hair and slushy posture anywhere. In all seriousness, you’re getting angry. Had he stood you up? Was he running behind after he set up the whole meeting in the first place? 

Just as you were about to give up you felt a hand fall on your shoulder, a breeze of honey and pine enveloping your nose. 

“Finally, I found you!” Peter's voice was easy to recognize, especially with how sweet he smelt. 

You turn and look up, giving him a skeptical look. “Where are we going to study?”

He took a moment before pointing at the private study hall, his smile smooth and easy to take in. With a quick nod, you walked towards the hallway, looking in each room to decipher which had his items in it. To your delight, it was easy. Every other room was filled with people, some studying, others playing some tabletop games. You walked in, sat at the empty seat closest to the computer and started pulling your notebook out. 

He was right behind you, closing the door and settling in across from you. In one foul swoop his legs were propped on the table and he leaned back a bit. “So do you really think this assignment is going to take ten weeks to research?” He sounded so… carefree.

You respond with a shrug, looking at the page on natural disasters. 

Peter hummed a small ‘mhmm’ and drummed his fingers on his chest, staring at you. “So, are we gonna challenge ourselves and use just our textbook as a reference?” A small smile.

“That's dumb.” You scoff and put your book aside, logging into the school computer and doing a quick search for Louisiana and scrolling through its map, trying to find the city to zone in on.

“Oh. Okay… uhm….” He sits forward, dropping his legs and leaning forward, craning his neck a bit to try and get a peek at the screen.

“New Orleans is probably a good one. Super populated, a staple for tourists. It would be a big tragedy for it to get destroyed.” He pointed at the spot on the screen, his tone still just as warm as usual.

“No, too predictable.” It comes out like an insult, and you internally kick yourself.

There's a pause before a defeated sigh and he points out another spot on the map, it’s random and his smile is gone now. “What about there? Grand Isle?” 

You take a long look at it before nodding and writing the town name down, looking over at him with a forced smile. “Cool.”

“You know, we’re gonna have to talk like real people eventually, right?” It’s frustrated and a bit.. sad. Another internal kick.

“Listen I-” you pause, not sure of how to put it at first, “I’m not good at talking. Never have been.” 

“Yea, I’ve noticed.” He shrugs and pulls out the most beat-up laptop you’d ever seen. “But, that night in the courtyard you seemed pretty chatty.”

The memory flashes in your mind and you touch your nose, your new pair of glasses hasn’t arrived yet. “It was a momentary lapse. Probably won’t happen again.”

“Why not?” He stares intently, a stomach turning, heart flipping look on his face as he asks.

“Why would it?” You stare back, your hands starting to fidget with your jean pocket.

“Cause we’re friends now.” He spoke so nonchalantly.

“Not friends.” A groan

“Oh come on, you’ll learn to love me eventually.” His voice was soft and he brought the backside of his fingers against his chin, batting his eyelashes.

“Eh, doubt it. I’ve had enough of love lite.” You said it, genuinely grossed out.

There was a moment of silence, the buzzing LED above you making you think you won Peter's yap battle.

“What?” It came out after a hearty laugh, one that felt like it had to come from his stomach.

You roll your eyes, looking into Grand Isle, writing its population count down as you respond. “Don’t worry your pretty head about it.”

“So you think I’m pretty?” He gasps, his hand pumping in the air as if he’d won something.

A shiver runs down your spine but you don’t let it show. “Sickening thought. Thanks, Mr. Aracnophile.” You grimace, making a fake gagging sound even though deep down you were enjoying this stupid conversation with him.

“Oh ew- never call me that again. What did I ever do to you?” His hand flew over his heart, squeezing his pullover with a dramatic gasp.

“You haven’t shut up since we got in this room.” You looked him in the eye, an almost unamused expression on your face outside of the small smile that was fighting its way past your ever slipping mask.

Peter is quiet for a moment again before rolling his shoulders back and sighing. “Got you pretty chatty though, didn’t I?” A shit-eating grin and a teasing tone accompanying his words.

You go to speak but nothing comes out. He did get you chatty. For some reason it makes your face heat up and you roll your eyes before looking back at your computer screen. “I’ll look into the town, you look into the likeliness a hurricane would destroy it?” 

He nods and opens the laptop, it has several cracks in the screen and duct tape holding a few of the plastic parts down. You take a mental note not to ask about it right now, but maybe later. 

The next hour progresses quickly, handwritten notes torn out of notebooks and stacked neatly into a pile in between the two computer screens. There are a few sneezes and quick exchanged glances while you work, but you ignore it. No reason to think too hard about it. 

As you start to type a few sentences into a digital outline, your phone buzzes, indicating your next class would be starting in twenty minutes. You sigh and start to boot down the computer. Peter lifts his head, looking at you and furrowing his brows a little bit. 

“Got somewhere to be?” He says your name so smoothly, you almost miss that he said it at all. 

“Yea. My next block of classes is about to start.” You shrug and sift through the different notes he and you had written, letting your eyes graze each one to see what’s what and how you should organize it in your folder. 

“I can take those.” He gently taps the top of the papers and you’re reluctant to hand them over. It was hard to say yes, because what if you needed to double check them and retrace your steps before- “I’ll scan them and send them to you after work tonight.”

A wave of relief washes over you, and you nod, letting his hand take them from you. “Sounds good, Spider-guy.” You say with a tight lipped smile and start to leave the study room. 

“Hey, wait. Let me walk with you.” He calls out to you but you put your earbuds in and pretend you didn’t hear him. 

—-----------------

<pbparker@empire.edu 

Sent at 3:06am 10/24/2024

2 attachments (4 MB)

Here you go, just as I promised. Oh, also, here’s my number, you know, if you want to be a normal 21 year old someday. Also, can't meet Friday. Something came up.

See you soon, trouble.

(xxx) xxx-xxxx

Peter B. Parker

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[aubreysheadspace]

Hello! 💐

How are you today? I hope you are having a pleasant day.

I wanted to make a request...

💦💦DON'T FORGET TO DRINK WATER😤💦💦🗣️🗣️

I don't know exactly how to explain it, but I hope you understand my request... ☺️

Sunny, Aubrey, Kel, Hero, Aubrey, (you can add Mari if you want 👍) with a GN!Reader who is very...awkward around them.

Like, the first time they met, they were very awkward, shy or introverted, never knowing exactly what to say. ("Uhhh ummm ehhhh jsbziamqgesnak-"). But after a while, they feel comfortable, and it is revealed that they are actually a very kind person.

(Uhhh platonic to romantic. (Friends to lovers idk how to explainnnn...)

(I felt kind of nervous writing this, honestly-)

(If the requests are closed, you can call me "blind" from now on 😅😭💀)

MAIN CAST WITH AN AWKWARD READER WHO EVENTUALLY WARMS UP TO THEM

sorry for the long title !! had no idea how to summarize this request without shortening it,,, but anyways! thank you, i also hope you have a pleasant day today and take care of yourself, hope you enjoy!

SUNNY

he doesn’t mind the awkwardness, he thinks he’s pretty awkward himself so who is he to judge? there might be some silence between you two but he thinks it’s comfortable silence.. while you probably think it’s awkward instead.

he sees that you start warming up on him. he’s an observer, so he notices the signs you’re getting comfortable with him. he likes it, he likes that you’re comfortable with his presence.

once you two are dating, nothing honestly changes. giving affection can be awkward for the two of you, but you guys will get used to it some day.. probably.

AUBREY

another one who also doesn’t mind how awkward you are.. sometimes. it bothers her a bit but she gets used to it eventually, as she tries to understand how you must feel. it also reminds her of a friend.

unless it’s a big major thing that you usually don’t do, she might not notice that you’re slowly warming up to her. she’s a bit dense sometimes but never admits it. once she does, her heart feels a little warmer knowing she makes you comfortable.

once you start dating, she tries to help you come out of your shell more and being open if that’s what you’re okay with. if not, she’s cool with that as well. either way, she wants to be the best girlfriend for you.

KEL

put an introvert and extrovert in the same room, they’ll come out great friends! he doesn’t mind your awkwardness as well because he has friends who are also like that! he’s used to it, and would never judge you.

he’s dense, but he slowly notices you’ve been growing comfortable enough around him and it makes him ecstatic! definitely pointing it out, and he would tell you he’s happy about it!

he also wants to help you get out of your shell if you’re okay with it, even after you two start to date. he’s your number one cheerleader no matter what!

BASIL

he’s.. well.. the most awkward person to be around when you first meet him. just like you, he will slowly get more comfortable. for now, the awkward silence is definitely… there!

around the time you start to get comfortable, so does he! he would be happy it if you find interest in his plants or photography! if you don’t, that’s fine! he would also like to hear about your own interests as well!

you still are sometimes a bit awkward even after dating, affection-wise, but you guys make it work!

HERO

again, another person who doesn’t mind the awkwardness coming from you. trust, he totally understands it and isn’t one to judge! it’s hero, after all! he’s a very clam and understanding person.

he starts to notice how you’re slowly opening up and being more comfortable around him but he doesn’t say anything about it, it would be a little embarassing if he did.

he’s pretty content with how you are even when you’re both dating. he also makes sure to let you know to speak up if he does something that makes you uncomfortable.

MARI

and of course, she’s also someone who doesn’t mind how nervous you are around her and others. she sometimes lets out a small chuckle if you ever let out one of those noises when you feel nervous, but she actually thinks it adorable!

she loves to tease, and she’ll tease you when she notices you’re being more comfortable with her, but of course she lets you know she feels honored.

even while you two date she tries to get you out of your shell, she also has a shy little brother, and she wants you to be the best version of yourself! if not, that’s okay too.

[strawberrysun15]

Been hella needy for Ichi so have some of my... Less than innocent thoughts about him (｡ŏ﹏ŏ)

(twt p04n links included, MDNI)

Like we all know he's a boobs guy right? I feel like that's obvious, but it's not just with actual boobs. He just likes someone with a big chest. (I'm sorry itty bitty titty committee girlies) like it doesn't matter to him, Gender and sex aside, as long as he can hold it and fuck it, he's so down. Fem vers.

In the beginning he definitely gets all embarrassed about it and refuses to be on the receiving end of cuddles, opting for you to lay your head on his chest instead so he can feel like the "big strong protecter that he's supposed to be."

With time though I think he'd realize that there a lot of days when he just wants to come home and bury his face in whatever softness he can find on your body. It 100% ties into what I've said about him liking a chubby/bigger partner. There's more for him to hold and love and find comfort in.

That being said though... God damn does this man like to cuddle fuck. How could he resist when he can just pull you as close as possible after a long day and destress?

He's a softy though, so he doesn't typically like to be too rough even when you ask. He absolutely loves to just hold you as close as possible and slowly grind into you. His more a making love type of person I guess (or maybe I'm projecting lol). Fem vers, androgynous vers (kinda just shows less but it makes the receiving person seem a bit more ambiguous for me)

As much as I'd love to say you could peg him or fuck his ass, he'd be way too nervous and a little weirded out by it. Like, he understands why people like it and why it feels good but... Ehhhh... Maybe with time you could convince him to at least let you finger him and he'd probably melt

Also just this. It just feels right

Anyway I think that's enough for now... God I love him so much. I honestly might private or delete this if I get too embarrassed (ㆀ˘･з･˘)

[maul-of-shame]

I was a big fan of haladriel at the end of season 1 because Sauron as Halbrand was very charismatic to me, but his Annatar turned me off because he was too cold, too creepy, and then the Galadriel/Sauron confrontation was just underwhelming to me. There was no serious talk between them (not like the Galadriel/Elrond scene in 2x02, that was so emotional), some lines felt poor, and the fight was too long for no reason (and that's because Sauron was toying with her, the moment he'd had enough, he stabbed her).

I was not looking forward to the Elrondriel kiss (found out via leaks), but I surprisingly liked it quite a lot, and I went back to watch their scenes from season 1, and they were simply so tender... I mean, I knew, but it's now even more obvious. Also, who offered comfort/healing after Galadriel faced Sauron in 1x08 and 2x08? Elrond.

Like, at this point, I hope the Dwarf-hater Celeborn stays dead because I'm gonna have a hard time accepting the fact that he's supposed to be much better than Elrond and deserving of Galadriel's undivided attention.

The Elves will fight Sauron, Elrond will defend Imladris, Gil-galad will give him Vilya and name him vice-regent of Eriador... and Celeborn is gonna come back and eat the screen time? Like, please stay dead. 💀

Oh, I feel this so much. I get why Haladriel was intriguing in Season 1—the charisma, the mystery, the tension. Sauron-as-Halbrand really pulled off that dangerous allure; he was smooth, and the chemistry was undeniable.

Heck I WAS in that boat too! XD

[TW: Long rant and if you love Celeborn, DON'T READ LMAO]

But by Season 2? The allure absolutely crumbled. Annatar felt so hollow, so calculating—it was as if any remnants of charm had been stripped away, leaving nothing but cold manipulation. And don’t even get me started on the so-called "showdown" between Galadriel and Sauron. Watching him toy with her only to end it with a stab literally yeeted me out of that damn ship for GOOD.

Elrondriel, I shipped it for funsies but I didn't think it would be "super serious". And ehhhh boy, how WRONG I WAS.

The tenderness there was something else entirely. I went back, rewatched EVERYTHING and it just clicked. Their connection is soft, grounding, and just so real. He’s the constant. Elrond’s compassion, loyalty, and understanding genuinely make him someone Galadriel can lean on. All of their scenes were full of chemistry, of feels I feel like were desperately lacking when it comes to Haladriel.

Meanwhile, Celeborn.... I'm gonna get heated LMAO.

Celeborn who? More like Cele-gone if you ask me.

I get his fans clutching their canon pearls, quick to remind us that Elrondriel "can’t happen" because "Celeborn exists". But let’s be honest here, canon Celeborn barely existed.

He was a racist, condescending mess, and they think he deserves Galadriel's undivided love? She’s supposed to fall for the guy who openly dismisses Dwarves, disrespects their culture, and disappears for decades, conveniently missing some of the most formative years of their daughter’s life?

And sure, let’s also forget the fact that Celeborn’s been MIA during Galadriel’s whole battle with Sauron. Who’s been there every step of the way, ready to pick up the pieces, help her heal, and stay steady when she’s barely holding it together? Elrond.

The guy who would give his all to protect Imladris, who'll fight tooth and nail against Sauron, who'll step up as vice-regent of Eriador, all while showing Galadriel the kind of partnership she genuinely deserves.

But nope—Celeborn’s the one who’s supposed to come back and eat up screen time because… tradition??????

Because some believe Galadriel’s big arc should end with her standing by a guy who barely even stood by her?

If they’re that dead-set on “canon,” maybe they should take a long look at how that canon actually portrays Celeborn. Because if anyone’s proving their worth right now, it’s Elrond.

If they want canon, let’s give them canon!

Let's hand them Celeborn, the man with the personality of a dish sponge after a holiday dinner and fifteen rounds in the sink!

This is the guy who refused to relocate his household, not because of some noble sense of duty or deep-rooted love for his people, but because the route would’ve passed "too close to Khazad-dûm", and he just couldn’t be bothered to cross paths with Dwarves. Imagine Galadriel’s face, realizing her partner for eternity turned out to be less passionate about cultural exchange than a moldy sandwich.

And don’t even get me started on his little "welcoming committee" scene with Gimli.

First words out of Celeborn’s mouth to a guest are suspicions and accusations because, "oh no, there’s a Dwarf in his fancy Elven halls".

You’d think someone who’s supposed to be thousands of years old could manage a shred of grace—or at least muster a polite hello.

Instead, we get Mr. Wet Toast himself, less tolerant of other cultures than the rocks Gimli probably walked over to get there. The entire dwarf population has more bravery in their pinky fingers than Celeborn has in his entire silver-haired head, and he’s meant to be the Elven standard of strength and honor? Please.

Meanwhile, Galadriel’s over here as a literal ethereal powerhouse, tackling her demons, taking on Sauron, and actively working toward peace. Celeborn is lucky if he can look a Dwarf in the eye without his spine turning into pudding.

You seriously want me to believe that Lady Galadriel—the warrior, the wise, the one who went through hell and high water, the one who’s fiercely loyal, and who has formed deep bonds across cultures, Dwarves included—would settle for this guy?

This guy, really?????

The "lord" who has all the charisma of a damp rag and the empathy of a particularly judgmental houseplant? Not to mention he’s named “Teleporno.”

Really, of all the Elves in Middle-earth, this is the guy who’s supposed to be her equal?

This is the same Galadriel who’d probably have her own ring in "Order of the Istari’s Most Likely to Smack Down Evil", and yet we’re supposed to believe she’d sit around sighing like a maiden over Celeborn, who’s basically the Elven embodiment of a “meh” Yelp review?

He had the GALL to look Gimli up and down like he’d just tracked mud into Lothlórien, while Galadriel herself had the courage to embrace and respect the Dwarves. She saw the good in Gimli without a second thought; Celeborn saw only his own prejudices and assumptions.

This is “Tolkien’s favorite character”? I think not.

And don’t even get me started on the “Teleporno” situation. Like, how are his fans so quick to clutch their pearls about canon purity when their “most beloved” is literally named something that sounds like he moonlights as a backup act in Valinor’s least reputable theater?

Meanwhile, Elrond, the epitome of loyalty, wisdom, and dedication, is over here supporting Galadriel through thick and thin, understanding her losses, and respecting her as an equal. Yet some people insist on clinging to this sad loaf of stale bread as her true love?

If they want canon, they can have it—every single clunky, Teleporno-laden, xenophobic line of it.

We'll be here with Elrond, the guy who genuinely deserves her and actually gets her, cheering on Galadriel as she rolls her eyes and reclaims her independence from Mr. Wet Toast.

Sorry, not sorry—I got heated, but honestly, I can’t help it. Celeborn just brings it out of me. XD

I mean, how can anyone read about this damp dishcloth of an elf who straight-up dismisses Dwarves (after his own wife saved their butts, no less) and say, “Yes, that’s the one for Galadriel”?

Every time I think about it, I’m reminded just how much I despise this man’s entire vibe.

Celeborn’s the elf equivalent of a soggy biscuit who just happens to be standing around in the same forest as Galadriel. I can’t think of a character with less spark, less drive, less anything. And yet, his diehard fans are here waving canon purity in our faces, ignoring every quality that actually means something to Galadriel—loyalty, respect, a bit of humor, maybe even a spine?

So yes, I might’ve gone off, but he’s been “gone missing” for so long for a reason. And let’s be real, no one is rushing to find him, not even his own """"wife""""".

[comfymoth]

If there were to be a dancer AU, what kind of dancers do you think some of the qsmp people would be? And maybe a duo is like- an actual duo in ice skating or ballet! Just a silly little idea I had in the back of my head :D

several wikipedia searches and one very nostalgic re-watch of strictly ballroom later, i’ve returned with thoughts. good thoughts? ehhh. cohesive thoughts? an even less convincing ehhhh. but i do have thoughts!

anyways. have a competitive ballroom dance au made by someone who knows nothing about competitive ballroom dance

roier and spreen as long-term dance partners just makes sense in my brain, but naturally that has to end badly, probably because roier’s been chasing a relationship while spreen’s just been chasing a win. the last routine they competed with was a tango. (did you know there’s a variation called the argentine tango? it isn’t ballroom, but apparently, the accompanying music is known to be sad)

forever and cellbit have also been partners for- well, forever, and dating for most of that time, but naturally that also has to end. with a breakup. a messy, messy breakup that they can not stay professional throughout, and in the end it’s best for the team to split and give it time. the last routine they competed with was a samba. (ballroom samba is pretty disconnected from brazilian samba— samba de gafieira or samba pagode would be better examples of partnered brazilian sambas)

roier doesn’t actually meet cellbit through dance. he meets him at a coffee shop— where he then proceeds to recognize him from nationals and talk his fucking ear off about dance. see, roier is anxious to get back into competing, more out of spite than anything else. cellbit, on the other hand, is much more hesitant. he has no plans to go back any time soon. roier does still manage to talk him into visiting his studio, but that’s just for fun, he swears, just a little social thing, to mess around and practice. and maybe it is fun. maybe cellbit keeps going back, maybe it becomes a routine. maybe they really get along. maybe- maybe it’s a good distraction for roier, actually, to take his mind off competition and just enjoy dancing again. and maybe it’s good for cellbit to remember why he liked this enough to compete in the first place.

they do become a pair, eventually. and they do make it back to nationals. the first routine they compete with is a viennese waltz. (the main difference between a viennese waltz and a standard waltz is the tempo, but both are traditionally used for weddings)

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N ::: I've a bit of an aural-fixation. I love listening to audios. So sue me. And last night, I found one that was "Katsuki". Sleepy breathing, light snores, little grumbly sleepy noises, some kissing, "him" talking about how much he loves "listener" and I about died. I was laying there like, "Is this supposed to turn me on or put me to sleep?" And, my friends, I think the answer was a hard BOTH. Anyway, it just made me want to write something about my favs (and any of yours too!). Hope you guys like it.

C/W ::: F!reader, Sleepy sweet stuff turning into P->V, just grossly intimate. But hey, at least I didn’t go crazy using italics, eh? Ehhhh? 

Aged up characters.

These are just my thoughts on how these boys (YES I KNOW, "Men") would be in bed while you're laying together all hot under the covers on a winter's night. That got oddly specific.

Something so simple as laying there, listening to the man next to you breathing.

You're wrapped in their arms, your legs are all twisted together under the covers and his mouth is pressed to the side of your head.

Muttering sweet nothings that turn you on more than they should. But you can't help it. The way his breath feels against your skin. Two hot forces meeting in the night. How he squeezes you a little tighter when he says how much he loves you and he'll never let you go.

The kisses that he's laying down against your cheeks that linger for just a bit longer than they should to be considered innocent. But not long enough to be anything more than what it is: A gentle show of affection.

How his voice gets deeper and deeper the more he feels you squirming against his body. And the deeper his voice gets, the more dry your mouth gets. So dry, that you're almost hoping he won't try to kiss your lips because your tongue is glued to the top of your mouth and you don't think you could pry it away without getting something to drink. But you don't want to ever leave his side. You imagine you could stay there forever. Water be damned.

And just as you think that, he whispers, "Do you need me to get you some water?" And you shake your head, because you don't want him to move, even for a second. "Are you sure?" he asks, and you nod, hoping he'll drop it.

But he doesn't. He untangles himself from your body and gets up, walking over to your bedroom door. "I'll be right back. I promise." And he steps out, leaving you cold and wanting.

You try not to pout as you wait for him to return, but you can't help it. You feel like a child who has been denied their favorite toy. But then, you hear him coming back, the sound of his bare feet padding against the floor getting louder and louder until he's back in the room.

He sits down on the bed next to you and hands you a glass of ice-cold water, which you take gratefully. You gulp it down quickly, the ice hitting your lips and teeth and making you shiver. You finish the water in a matter of seconds and hand the glass back, ready to snuggle back up against him.

But he doesn't lay down right away. Instead, he puts the glass on your nightstand and turns back to face you. "Can I kiss you?" he asks, and your stomach does a somersault because the way he says it is so innocent when the look he is giving you is anything but pure of intent. And since when does he ask if he can kiss you?

You nod, unable to form words, and he leans forward. His lips meet yours, and it's soft and sweet and just the slightest bit wet. You melt into it, and he pulls you closer to him. His tongue is on your lips, asking, and you let him in.

The kiss deepens, and you can feel his hands on your waist, pulling you onto his lap. He's hard, you feel it through his boxers. He pushes his hips against you, and you moan into the kiss.

He breaks the kiss and looks at you, his eyes dark with lust. "Y-yeah?" he asks, and you know what he's asking.

You nod, and he kisses you again, harder this time. He grabs you by the waist and lifts you up, laying you down on the bed beneath him. You gasp as he grinds his hips against you, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth again. This time not asking to be let in but taking that first step on his own.

You reach up and grab his hair, tugging on it as he grinds against you. You can feel him getting harder, and you groan against his lips. He reaches down and pulls your shirt up, exposing your breasts, and he pulls back to look at you.

"God ... s'beautiful," he whispers, and you don't know if you're blushing from that or if you're red from all of it. But it doesn't matter. All that matters is that he's here with you, kissing you, touching you, and you can feel yourself getting wetter with every pass of his skin against yours.

He reaches down and grabs your pants, tugging them off and tossing them aside. He's got his own boxers off in a flash, and you can see he's ready to go.

He lines himself up with your entrance and slides in slowly, inch by inch. He's arched over your soft body, almost crooked across you, as he makes his way into you. Watching your face for any and all reactions you're giving him.

"Don't hide from me. I wanna see you, fuckin' needa see you."

He grabs your face and tilts your head up, forcing you to make eye contact with him. He thrusts deeper and deeper, and you cry out, unable to hold back your pleasure. He keeps going, his pace steady. Not in a hurry at all, and you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to tears.

It just feels so fucking good that you're going to cry about it. The intensity with which he's looking at you is the straw that broke the camels back.

You want to tell him it's too much. That the way he's looking at you like you're his own personal holy grail is too much. And you begin to wonder, in all of this closeness, how you got so lucky to have him.

"Hey, stay with me." He says, as the tears trickle down the sides of your face.

You nod. Running your hands from the top of his back to his ass, you grab onto him and raise your hips to take more of him.

At this point, it feels like a matter of sanity. That if he doesn't keep going, you're going to lose it. And he seems to understand, because he starts moving faster, harder, and you can feel yourself getting closer to the precarious edge he’s got you balanced on.

The sweet silence in the room has been broken by skin slapping against skin. Slow, metered breathing has turned into desperate gasps into each other's mouths.

They are the only oxygen you will ever need.

You cum, hard and fast, and you can feel him cumming right after you. He groans, his head falling against your shoulder. You can feel him twitch inside you as he cums, and you cling to him as you both use the other to ride out the waves of pleasure.

He collapses on top of you, panting and sweaty, and you wrap your arms around him, not wanting him to move an inch. You feel so safe in his arms, like nothing in the world could ever hurt you.

And you think to yourself that you would do anything to keep that feeling forever.

But you don't have to do anything. 

You can just lay here with him, in his arms, and feel the warmth of his body ... against yours.

Draken, Takemichi, Chifuyu, Baji, Akkun, Megumi, Geto,Yuji, Nanami, Todo, Kirishima, Katsuki, Sero, Izuku, Aizawa, Shoto, Iida, Keigo, Gene, Levi, Jean, Connie, Reiner, Armin, Eren, Tengen, Rengoku, Sanemi, Tanjiro, Zenitsu, Haganezuka, Akaza, Gyomei

And anyone else you wanna add to this list!!

Taglist ::: @arlerts-angel @darkstarlight82 @millennialmagicalgirl

Special guest appearance ::: @sluttyshigaraki Wanted to tag you in this because we shared a brain cell recently. =)

[phoenixyfriend]

if you’re doing the fanfic trope mash up, can i suggest 42 and 56 for jangosoka?

Fanfiction Trope MASH-UP: Send me two (2) tropes from this list + a ship and I’ll describe how I’d combine them in the same story.

This ask meme is from over a year ago. Please don't send new prompts.

42. The Big Damn Kiss 

56. Awful First Meeting

Okay, so: time travel, as is standard for this ship

We'll say Ahsoka is ehhhh 23, has been doing Fulcrum stuff for five or so years, is very competent but not perfect. She falls into the past, as one does, shows up about a year pre-Galidraan, so Jango is 21.

Ahsoka has slipped into some undercover work, eeling her way into the upper echelons of society, attending galas and events and so on in fancy dresses and jewelry. How is she funding this? However you want. Maybe she robbed a Hutt. Maybe she has the codes to some shadow accounts nobody knows she's accessing. Maybe she found teenage Bail and talked him into bankrolling her based on The Future. Doesn't matter.

(Actually, the Bail thing would make a great fic on its own, especially if Ahsoka were young enough to pretend to be his girlfriend. Tell me that wouldn't be hilarious. Not here, but somewhere. Bail is absolutely in love with Breha, but like... the fate of the Republic! The fate of the Jedi! That's a cool thing to be doing! With a cool person!)

Point is, she's lying to a lot of very wealthy, very dangerous people when she shows up at these things. She could have theoretically tricked her way into being someone's long-term date, but that would mean dating to attend more than one, and she's not doing that. Better to just pretend to be the heiress to a company from the rims that's very rich but not quite rich enough for everyone in the Core to have heard of.

She is using these events to spy, of course. Slipping into hotel rooms to slice datapads, bugging white collar criminals with a tap to their favorite watch, wandering into servant's tunnels while pretending to be drunk, all the usual fun stuff.

She gets caught, of course.

Jango's side of the story starts about when Ahsoka's does, with him hearing tales of someone stealing information and sabotaging deals, and he gets hired as security by one of those especially important events. He keeps an eye on this, and he... notices Ahsoka.

He does not notice her as a spy, but as a person who is being harassed by an intoxicated, rich old man, whom she'd clearly like to ditch but cannot safely do so.

(At least, as far as he can tell. We know her better than that.)

Jango steps in, because it's not like he's got a lot to do right now, and intercepting drunk old men has been about the only interesting thing he's had to do all night. Ahsoka... I mean, she thanks him. Technically. She doesn't hide her distaste for him as a person. Jango would think this is just about him being Mandalorian, except she doesn't react as negatively to any of the others. She's neutral and ignores most of them, but there are two moments where she interacts positively, laughing at a joke or something. So. She just doesn't like him.

The night ends without incident. It's not until weeks later that there's an information leak. It could have happened during the party Jango was guarding, but it could have happened at any of three other incidents that same month. There was at least one midnight break-in, several days after the party; there's a solid chance his presence did discourage whoever this spy was from engaging, and made them delay their actions to a Plan B.

Months later, he's doing personal guard duty for the king of something or other. It's another gala or fundraiser or coronation or--honestly, he doesn't care. He's getting paid to keep this one specific person safe, and that's all that matters.

He's not the only mando there, so when he sees a young woman, vaguely familiar, stumble out of the hall with an expression that says 'drunk' as much as it does 'roofied,' he doesn't commit any dereliction of duty by excusing himself to just... see that she's okay. The woman is familiar, even if he can't place her. That usually means something; what if she's an assassin he's run into before, here to kill his client?

(That really is why he's following her. If she's familiar but unplaceable, that usually means she's In The Business.)

He follows her at a safe distance, and sees her ask for a bathroom, get pointed in the right direction, and then... go down the wrong hallway, and enter a room that he's pretty sure is supposed to be locked.

He gives it a few seconds, edging closer slow enough that his boots can't be heard (the music and carpet both help muffle the noise, but he's still wearing a lot of metal), and then opens the door to a library-esque space.

The "drunk" girl is hard at work slicing into a computer terminal she 100% should not be at.

They stare at each other.

"Give me one good reason to not shoot y--"

"I can give you intel on Death Watch."

Jango pauses. Considers. It is not his job to keep information safe, this time. His job is to just keep one specific man alive, and this is an unrelated crime.

There are footsteps in the hall, and he sees her start to look around the room for an exit route. He tries not to think too hard on how she was planning on making the very-much-screwed-into-the-wall vent work.

"Fine," he says, and she looks quick at him, and then at the door, and then disengages from the computer and hops the desk to--plaster herself against him?

She giggles, high and drunken, and fumbles for his helmet. "Oh, come on, Mr. Mando, just a kiss? Just one ki--I told my friends I'd run into a Mand--ma--Mandaloriana... Just a kiss! I wanna--wanna one-up 'em..."

He hears the door crack open, and has no idea what he's supposed to do to play along to this... cover? Cover, sure. "Ma'am, I'm on a job."

"And you can't play? Your friends are totally--"

There's a cough from the door, and Jango turns, and the security guard that actually works here is grimacing.

"You can't be in here."

They manage to talk their way out of suspicion, something about how she claimed she'd seen something important but was just trying to seduce him, does the guard know anywhere a drunk guest can be deposited? Thanks.

She does give him information, but she disappears before he can learn anything more about her.

(Galidraan is avoided, oh so narrowly, because of what she gives him. He may never know how close it really was.)

Months pass. He gets invited an event that isn't a job, but is rather some large gladiatorial event. He's not a fan of it--he's pretty sure the fighters aren't nearly as voluntary as people are claiming--but he goes. He watches.

A familiar face enters the arena. He stiffens.

His helmet can zoom in and analyze, and he finds that the cuffs she wears are Force-dampening.

Definitely not willing.

He dithers too long to figure out how to help, or if he even can, because she wins her fight (no deaths in these matches; makes it expensive to find new combatants), and is ushered out, and Jango himself is invited to an afterparty. Someone tells him that the winning gladiators get to attend. It's a reward, the food and fancy outfits. Even 'the pretty one you seemed to like' is going to be there.

People are still pretending that the combatants are voluntary. Jango grits his teeth. He goes.

He finds her, removes his helmet, meets her eyes from across the room. She is bruised and bandaged, but alert. She blinks at him, slow and measuring, and then taps her lips twice.

He doesn't understand, until she signs--where did she learn Mando battle sign?--and asks him to lie and say they're a couple.

(Well, she's using battle sign, not actual MSL, but he's pretty sure 'cover spouse you self extraction' is... yeah. Sure, that sign for cover is usually about cover from fire, and 'spouse' is a splice of 'law' and 'partner' that is usually hard enough without trying to hide everything, but he thinks he got the gist.)

(He does kind of owe her; the information she gave him was more useful than he'd expected, and even if it hadn't been, he can probably convince her to share something else as 'payment' for getting her out of this.)

He stomps through the crowd, pushing people out of the way, and then sweeps her into his arms and bends her backwards to plant the showiest kiss he can on her.

He holds it long enough for the silence to spread, and then pulls them back upright, closes his eyes, presses his forehead to hers, and hopes that it's enough to sell it to the people around them.

His hands drift down to her wrists, a calculated move that looks natural if he's lucky, and asks quietly for them to remove the cuffs.

Jango Fett is a very heavily-armored, heavily-armed man. People read into his quiet the way he wants them to: that he is very close to slaughtering a whole lot of them, and trying incredibly hard to stay calm.

There are cuff removals, and 'negotiations' for Ahsoka's freedom (he still doesn't even know her name, but he hears the fake she gave to the people who arrested her), and she leaves the planet on his arm, and on his spaceship.

She explains that getting arrested and sent to the gladiatorial arena was part of a greater plan, but that her extraction partner was delayed. They might be dead. She doesn't know, but she was already planning her own escape. She tells him she's gotten out of worse scrapes before.

The fic would end with them separating, and her promising to come find him again. Any sequel would involve a reveal of the Future thing, possibly after a one-night stand.

[dracothedeatheatingcupcake-ao3]

I doubt literally anyone else will care about this, but this has been a mini goal/desire of mine for so fricken long now, so I wanted to at least share it here, ha.

Anyway, TPWP is one of my more popular fics. It took a while to get there when I was posting, creeping up with the kudos and hits and everything each week, but by god did it get there. Once I finished posting it and it plateaued in statistics, the only fic that was above it in terms of popularity was my old fic, A Pirate’s Life (APL), which I had written when I was like 17-18 I believe. And APL is not a bad fic, no. It’s just definitely unpolished and a bit rough in spots. And the ship itself is a bit ehhhh, though I always liked the fanon interpretation of the ship much more than anything from canon. I’m digressing though.

Anyway, I always privately hoped that TPWP would surpass APL in popularity, since I much prefer TPWP in terms of writing ability and the ship itself. I also wanted my most kudosed and ‘popular’ fic to be something that reflected my current writing level and ships, not something I wrote and liked when I was newly an adult. While I know now that the number of kudos on a fic ultimately doesn’t matter too much and doesn’t really say if a fic is popular or not, TPWP having more kudos than APL was always a private goal of mine, something I privately wanted and hoped for.

However, after I had finally finished posting TPWP and the last of the rush of kudos came in from that, I saw that TPWP was almost 200 kudos away from APL, and given the fact that fics will often stagnate in kudos/hits once they’re complete and haven’t posted in a couple months (at least in my experience), I had a feeling that I’d never really make this goal. And it was a little disappointing, but I never let it bother me too much. Plus, starting last year I had a new most popular fic (thanks, Luigi and the Beast), so I had something else that reflected my modern writing style and ships, so it wasn’t that big of a deal anymore in my mind.

Still, part of me wanted TPWP to surpass APL, and today, it finally happened. While this can obviously still swap since I do still get kudos on APL from time to time, the fact that TPWP not only managed to reach APL’s kudos count, but surpassed it even once? I never thought that would happen, to be honest. I never thought that TPWP would manage to get almost 200 extra kudos once I stopped posting regularly, since in my experience that doesn’t happen often. Usually I’ll get a decent amount once it’s no longer an active fic, but not enough that it would surpass another old fic that was gaining passive kudos too.

Anyway, I’m not so sure where I’m going with this. As you can see from my screenshots, it’s like 5am where I am now, and my brain just woke me up and refuses to let me go back to sleep (a common occurrence these days, for some reason. I’ve long since stopped asking why my brain does what it does in regards to sleep. It’s better that way), so I’m kinda rambling.

The point, I suppose, is that this was a goal of mine for so long now, and I’m honestly kind of proud and happy that I finally reached it. While I do have problems with TPWP, ultimately I am very proud of it and it makes me so, so happy that people are still enjoying it all of these years later. When I started writing fanfic over 13 years ago at age 13, I never would have expected to be here. My writing was meh at best and I struggled a lot with getting my thoughts and ideas across. There’s a reason I will never post my fanfiction.Net username, even though my oldest fics are still posted there. Writing was just something I did for fun and as a way to show my love for my fandoms; it was never anything serious. But I always wanted to write a fic that mattered… you know? That stuck with people. That people genuinely liked and that maybe even helped them. You know?

I think I managed that with TPWP. I’ve gotten so many comments over the years thanking me for writing it, people saying that they will go back to it and reread it from time to time, that it helped them, etc. I was always so grateful and happy that I was able to write something that resonated with so many people, which had been a dream of mine ever since I started writing and would cry tears of frustration when I struggled to get my thoughts across how I wanted to.

And, like I’ve said. I know that kudos/favorites are not the only metric to determine if a fic is popular or ‘good.’ However, it has always been a good base for me to gauge interest in my fics, to see roughly what people think of it. And, even though it prolly shouldn’t, the amount of kudos/favorites on my fics has always mattered to me. Ever since I was a young child I’ve had an intense desire to be liked. But more than that, I always wanted to be ‘the favorite.’ To be ‘the best.’ Even when I knew I never would be, simply because I lacked the skill or patience to be ‘the best.’ I still would always want that, and it would hurt me deep inside to know that I just… wasn’t. Yes, I was smart, but I was never ‘the smartest.’ Yes, I was well liked by my peers, but I was never ‘popular.’ Yes, I was always doing well and could hold my own in most things I tried, but I was never (and would never) be ‘the best.’ I just couldn’t. I was either too unskilled, too impatient, too shaky (physically, in some cases), too… everything, and I could never, ever be the absolute best at anything, really. I just physically couldn’t. I’d never be the best singer, I’d never be the best artist, I’d never be the best writer, I’d never be the best chef, I’d never be the best creator, and I’d never be that elusive ‘favorite.’ Never, never, never.

And it hurt. A lot. Growing up and even to this day. But I’ve gotten so much better with it over the years. With the knowledge that I will never be ‘the best,’ that I will never be ‘the favorite,’ and that this is okay. And, in fact, not only is this okay, but it’s expected. Perfection is a myth and it’s impossible to achieve. I spent over 375k words trying to showcase this fact, because it’s something I still, to this day, three months past twenty-six, struggle with. But I’m getting there. By god, am I getting there. And by removing that desire to be ‘perfect,’ to be ‘the best,’ I’ve improved so much in every field I create work in. Once I did away with the desire to create something ‘perfect,’ I was able to make things that were just ‘good enough.’ Is this art project I spent hours working on made more of hot glue than its actual art medium? Yes, but it’s made. And it looks nice enough. And while it will never win any awards, I like it. Is my writing repetitive, derivative of itself, sometimes rushed, and more focused on angst than plot? Yes. But it’s made. And it’s good enough. And people like it. And, most importantly of all?

I like it.

I like it. Even if it isn’t ’perfect.’ Even if it won’t win awards. Even if no one else on the planet likes it, if everyone looks at it and goes ‘… okay, so what?’ I like it. I spent so much time and effort creating it. I did everything I could to make it properly. And it doesn’t matter if it’s a bit lumpy. If it has exposed seams. If it doesn’t look like other people’s creations. It’s made, and I made it, and I put my heart and soul into it, and that? That’s what matters. I learned while making it, and next time I make something similar, I’ll do better. And the time after that? I’ll do better again. And again. And again. I’ll never reach ‘perfection.’ I’ll never make something that people will look at, gasp, and think ‘my god, that’s the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen.’ I’ll never reach that impossible goal that I made for myself when I was a young preteen, painfully insecure and wanting to find validation in others. I never will reach this goal, never, ever, ever, ever, ever.

But I will get better. I will improve from what I’ve done before. And I will get stronger in every possible way I can, and I will forgive myself for the ways that I can’t. I have a lot of limitations, things I cannot physically or mentally overcome. And I will forgive myself for it. I will. I will.

And I guess, at the end of the day, that’s my point here. That perfection is a lie, that there is no end, that there is only improvement and self-appreciation. APL represents this a lot for me. At 17-18, I still struggled with this so much. I spent all of my high school years riddled with self-hatred and anxiety, wanting to be the best, but riddled with the knowledge that I never would be. I crashed and burned in middle and high school because of this. I was so terrified of never being all I wanted to be that I let myself burn to ash, to give up completely, because that was better in my mind than trying my hardest and failing. I always failed at what I wanted to do, and I was so focused on that supposed ‘failure’ that I failed to see how far I had come. I failed to see that while I wasn’t ’the favorite,’ I was still well liked. I failed to see that while I wasn’t ’the best,’ I was good enough. I was good enough. And I always would be. This is something I didn’t realize at 17-18, not yet.

But I do now. I do now, and TPWP represents that for me in many ways. Perfection in a myth. Unilateral adoration and love is impossible. And no matter what, every time you create you will get a little better, a little better, a little better. And so, the only thing you can do is create. And love what you create. And keep trying no matter what, all so that you can create more in the future and grow. So you can do what you love without fear of failure.

Anyway, this has gone on much longer than anticipated. It was just supposed to be a quick ‘haha look! I succeeded at an old, useless goal! :-D’ But somehow it turned into this. But that’s okay. That’s just who I am. I like to ramble. I like to get my thoughts out there into the world. I’m pretentious and think way too deeply on things that matter to no one else. It matters to me. It matters to me. And it doesn’t matter if no one ever reads this, or if people read it and roll their eyes at my pretension. I wrote this for me, to just get this out there in the world, and at the end of the day, that’s what matters. That’s what’s important. Not what the ‘invisible audience’ in my head screams at me every day.

I hope y’all have a good day. :-)

[pommunist]

I do wonder a little if the very different reactions to Pomme and Dapper's beds being included in the stream might in part be like... a difference in people used to seeing a new admin play an egg? The situations are very different and that should be acknowledged and looked at and even if as is likely the case QStudios owns all rights to the NPCs created for QSMP it would feel extremely icky to me to give Pomme especially a new admin. But at the same time... I do wonder if people more used to say, Chayanne, who has had 2 different main admins and been played by 4 or 5 different admins regularly enough the different forms have nicknames are more... accepting of the idea? Because the idea of an egg belonging only to the one actor is less comprehensible to them, as it's not what they're used to? Ramón's situation might be closer, but again 2 admins at least. Im almost certain I've seen Tallulah played by someone else when her admin was sick, and I've no doubt some of the other eggs have occassionally been played by others due to admin illness even if not long term.

(This is not to say it's main the issue (even without eggs being acted Sunny's admin should have known what was happening just for bigger issues with the stream alone - admin health and treatment is far more important than what they provide) I'm just. Trying to think of reasons why reactions I saw were as polarised as they were, with half my dash treating it like parading a corpse in the street and the other half like this was entirely expected and normal.)

Oh that’s a good question anon !!

First, the ownership of the characters is a tricky point that I don’t have an answer to as intellectual property laws are extremely complicated and not something I know much about tbh.

And on the topic of admin change, I think public reception depends a lot of the cause of said change : For example, when Ramon switched admins, huevitos were perfectly fine with it as it was assumed that the OG had taken a break for studying purposes so it was not a problem (turns out they were fired 🥲). It’s the same whenever an admin steps up to punctually or long term play another character because their admin is too busy with irl stuff, other work within Qstudios, is sick…. (like what I assume happened for Chayanne)

Pomme’s situation is different because of Lumi’s circumstances and the fact that she asked for her character to end with her leaving. Plus the fact that CCs have said before that they didnt want her to be replaced, even before that whole situation, I remember at least Antoine saying he would rather have Pomme dead than be played by someone else. I’d say the french speaking side got quite attached to her as, with all the sidelining we went through, both her character and admin were our only beacon of representation within Qstudios/QSMP 🥹

Also something that makes me kinda ehhhh about saying that there are people who are completely fine with admins changes because their fav character went through at least one is remembering the whole Pepito/otipep mess that had people go mad because Pepito had an admin change for a few days and they didn’t like the "new personnality" or whatever ? (Couldn’t tell the details of it as my spanish suck and Roier often streams in the middle of the night for me, but I remember the twitter shit storm)

Finally about the eggs being like kidnapped and in a coma (I think ? didn’t watch the stream) I guess it’s an okay way to put them on hold while sorting things out + an opportunity to explain in lore if you have to kill some because no more admins ? Or at least it would have been okay if all the eggs admins still working would have been made aware that their characters was being put on hold 😀

[polyphonical]

Dragon's Head - Back to Square One

Location: Wrestling Gym

Tomoya: Excuse me. Good work today~……

Tetora: One two~, three four~. Two two~, three four~ [1]. Hiiro-kun, make sure to stretch really well, okay?

Hiiro: Umu! I understand, Buchou. If you don’t stretch properly, you can get injured, so I’ll do it well. One two~, three four~. Two two~, three four.

Koga: Hey, Adonis. Let’s spar together ‘kay?

Adonis: Okay, I don’t mind. But Oogami, do we have to go that far when you're not competing in the show?

Koga: Heheh, don’t say things like that. You and I are friends.

C’mon, put on your gear already. I’m gonna beat the shit outta you ♪

Adonis: Hm? You’re going to be the one hitting? Oogami, maybe you just wanted to get your body moving?

Kuro: Aaand thereーー that’s enough punchin’ bags, right? I think we have this many people.

Lil’ miss might be stoppin’ by to check out how things are goin’, so maybe I should get a chair ready for her too.

Tomoya: ……

I don’t understand why I was chosen as a member for this!!

Tetora: Ah, Tomoya-kun. Sup～☆ What’s up? You just came in yellin’ all of a sudden.

Tomoya: No no! This is crazy, right!? The “The Starpro Rhylink Reconciliation Strategy” is a martial arts battle between both sides, right!?

So why was I chosen for this!? I can’t fight at all!?

Eichi: That’s because I recommended you, Tomoya-kun.

Tomoya: Ehhhh!? But why would you do that!? You’re participating too, right Tenshouin-senpai? Then just join by yourselfーー

Ah, is this your way of trying to be considerate to me? Sharing your work? Thanks, but no thanks. Please just compete by yourself.

Eichi: I’m not trying to be considerate. Have you taken a look around you? I have no other choice.

We’re surrounded by people with the strength of gorillas. Ah, maybe it’s more accurate to say they’re like gorillas themselves.

And yet I, someone as frail as a gazelle, got thrown in the middle. There’s no way I could compete in something like this, right?

Eichi: That’s why I recommended Mashiro-kun as a person I could compete with ♪

Tomoya: You’re not being considerate of me at all, are you. I’m more of a sacrifice than anything.

Koga: Haah? Just who are you calling a gorilla, Tenshouin-senpai? [2] Don’t blame me when I bite back after you talk shit behind our backs.

Eichi: Hey now, I never said that. I’d like it if you didn’t put words in my mouth. I said, “people with the strength of gorillas.”

Tomoya: You literally called them gorillas right after though……

Eichi: Did I now?

Ah, it’s my phone.

…Hm? Why are they calling me?

I’m going to step outside for a bit, so you can begin practicing without me. Helloーー

Koga: Aah. That bastard~ He just said his piece and ran away!

Tomoya: Sigh…… Based on how Tenshouin-senpai responded, it doesn’t look like I can get out of this one……

Tetora: Hi~yah!

Hiiro: Guh……!

Kuro: And there it is, technique! With that, Tetsu wins based on points!

Hiiro and Tetora: Thank you very much!

Hiiro: As I expected, you’re great, Buchou. I thought you were going to strike towards the upper half. I totally read that wrong!

Tetora: Yeah, I knew you were being wary of me striking you at the upper half, Hiiro-kun~. Tomoya-kun, you should join us next time ssu!

Tomoya: Absolutely not! That’s definitely impossible! Hell no! We’re at totally different levels! I’d die, y’know!? At the very least, let me fight against Tenshouin-senpaiーー

Wait, huh? Speaking of Tenshouin-senpai, he’s been on the phone for a long time, hasn’t he?

Koga: Maybe he got scared and ran away~.

Kuro: He doesn’t seem like the type of guy to run away like that…… I wonder what happened.

Adonis: Ah, Tenshouin-senpai is coming back.

Kuro: Hey. Ya were gone for quite a while. Any trouble? If ya can’t make it to practice today, it’s fine.

Eichi: Trouble… Yes. You can say I ran into trouble. Big trouble.

―― Everyone, we’re going to have to cancel today’s practice.

Kuro: Ha? The hell’s that mean?

Tetora: Literally ssu. It was really hard to get everyone’s schedules lined up for this…. Why do we have to cancel so suddenly?

Eichi: That call I just took was from the management at ES. They told me that we have to stop this plan.

Tetora: Ehhh!? Stop the plan… But why now!?

Eichi: Well, it’s not like I didn’t consider this possibility.

If two agencies that have been rumored to be on bad terms suddenly appeared on a TV show fighting each other, it might give an even worse impression of both agencies.

If they want to limit the number of risks taken, it’s not hard to imagine why they would be reluctant to go through with a project like this.

In fact, both Anzu and I understood these risks when we came up with the plan.

However, since this kind of project has many risks, it gives a sense of authenticity, even if it’s dramatic.

The more drama there is, the easier people are influenced.

Good grief. I thought the managers understood that. I didn’t think they’d be so spineless…

But since it got rejected, there’s nothing I can do but follow what they say.

Tomoya: So, are you going to come up with another plan?

Eichi: Perhaps. It’s hard to do anything right now. They asked me to come up with an alternative plan, but I haven’t came up with one yet.

At any rate, today’s practice has been cancelled. I will contact you all if there’s any progress made.

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They're doing that type of counting where you say which set you're on as you count. So like, 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 (1) 2 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 (2), and so forth. I hope that made sense TOT

Koga's being sarcastic here ofc, but he also said senpai in katakana instead of 先輩, so I italicized it for emphasis.