#talking to people is like my favourite thing

[eclipsen-smiles]

I doubt any of you want to know but I love talking about them so-

Eclipse’s version (I’ll do Chai’s on my art account.)

Any variation of “I’m fine” or “it’s fine”

Basically never. They’re/we’re SHIT at verbal affection.

Also practically never, unless around either their world’s family or the bloodpack.

Childcare.

Yes. They don’t think of anything. They just can. Their human form is small and pathetic looking, they use it for pity. (I do. I’m tiny. I look young. It’s so so so easy to get idiots in trouble.)

Favourite show: ever after high. They will never mention this. Ever.

Fuckshit. Probably. Or just “GET YO ASS OVER HERE.” With their gf…… the SpongeBob theme. Eclipse is still childish at heart.

There’s actually a list.

Nothing= anon

Friend= distant.

Name = talked once or twice.

Nickname= close

Hun/bud/pal/pet names= family or extremely close. Or if they’re concerned.

It depends on the situation. It’s a weird mix. They can be very rough, but they’re usually gentle at the same time.

Random facts about mental states. Usually things that make people feel better. (Ie; fun fact, you’re face is distorted through your eyes, so how you see yourself isn’t what other people see.)

Trust me. You’ll tell. (They’re already behind them.)

People being dumb. Or people trying to insult them. (Please. Try to. It’s hilarious.)

Always. I don’t think they know how to smile naturally at this point.

With their finger. Or hand.

Home: kinda dull, calm. Work: silent, disassociated. Friends: HYPER. ABABABA. MISCHIEF. PRANKS. alone: no facial expression.

Idiots.

Memories. Others, idk.

Luna. Believe it or not, but their version of lunar is almost MORE psychopathic than them…

Panic. Not because of the person, but because they’re trapped. (One, that shouldn’t be possible. two, agoraphobia.)

1:Unknown. 2: the astals. Specifically the higher ups.

Uhh.. eye contact, I guess. They’re fine with it, but they know others aren’t.

Hilariously, normal work hours. And taking breaks.

OHHH BOY LET ME TELL YOU- (reminder: luna is a ghost.)

Bold of you to assume they only took one.

Uhh.. random facts from plants and animals to history to cooking. They’re 600+, they’ve had a LOT OF FREETIME.

Laughter.

A “dont do drugs” pencil. Responded with heavy laughter.

A break. I pled the fifth (death.)

“Your funeral”

Heavily different because of the topic of their work. Personal= eh whatever. Work= oh fuck oh shit

.. seeing luna happy actually causes the most guilt.

MONEY PRINTING. WHO NEEDS A JOB WHEN YOURE GOD?

Silence and a glare

Family/not super close friends/people who look up to them: very calm but visibly happy. Close friends/people close to them/people who don’t necessarily hold them highly: ABBABABABABABAB

…so…many

Tartarus. “Can’t kill him yet. He still has use.” But DAMN DO THEY WANT TO. (Tar is a corrupt ass in their au btw.)

Actually nothing serious. Like… nothing. Besides secrets others have told them.

Hahehakfjkwnf. One that I have. Juggling.

Excluded. They hate having people include them just for pity. Though that’s if they know. (Same philosophy as me. Just being invited is enough. Even if I can’t come or I don’t have to actively participate.)

Depends. If the person looks annoyed it’s “what an ass.” If they look neutral or uncomfortable, it’s quickly “are they okay?” or “am I too imposing?”

Unknown at the moment.

Guilt and tragedy coping. Self explanatory

They’re quick to assume people being uncomfortable or afraid is because of them. They will not mention this.

Any. Since built in language processors, but probably Spanish since is such a direct translation language.

Shoes/socks in the house. What’s the fucking point. Take em off.

Listener. Make them talk? They’re autistic. You. Will. know.

EVERYONE FROM THIER ORIGINAL WORLD. EVERYONE. they either are still on the “glad they’re dead” bandwagon or the “holy shit he(moon) killed a mostly innocent dude.” Wagon.

Girlfriend. Friends. Family. Literally anyone they know. Hey, who coulda guessed, the person grappling with their past is a people pleaser!!

Nope. Politely decline

Hhhhhh….. past morals I guess? The old belief of corporeal punishment? (they don’t now.)

“Hun” when they’re concerned.

Self explanatory (mod is a lawyer…. Eclipse is at heart..)

The blood pack or their gf. (Too much shit has happened for them to NOT believe the pack. They’re safety is top priority)

Freeze to fight in normal situations. Straight to fight in dangerous situations. Freeze to “JEESUS” in safe situations.”

Destroying worlds. It’s their job, sure, but they’d much rather stop what’s CAUSING it.

Gf usually. But she’s back on the “hub world” so probably no one.

Eating. Sleeping. Drinking…. Self care.

ALL OF THEM.

WEIRDLY SPECIFIC BUT HELPFUL CHARACTER BUILDING QUESTIONS

What’s the lie your character says most often?

How loosely or strictly do they use the word ‘friend’?

How often do they show their genuine emotions to others versus just the audience knowing?

What’s a hobby they used to have that they miss?

Can they cry on command? If so, what do they think about to make it happen?

What’s their favorite [insert anything] that they’ve never recommended to anyone before?

What would you (mun) yell in the middle of a crowd to find them? What would their best friend and/or romantic partner yell?

How loose is their use of the phrase ‘I love you’?

Do they give tough love or gentle love most often? Which do they prefer to receive?

What fact do they excitedly tell everyone about at every opportunity?

If someone was impersonating them, what would friends / family ask or do to tell the difference?

What’s something that makes them laugh every single time? Be specific!

When do they fake a smile? How often?

How do they put out a candle?

What’s the most obvious difference between their behavior at home, at work, at school, with friends, and when they’re alone?

What kinds of people do they have arguments with in their head?

What do they notice first in the mirror versus what most people first notice looking at them?

Who do they love truly, 100% unconditionally (if anyone)?

What would they do if stuck in a room with the person they’ve been avoiding?

Who do they like as a person but hate their work? Vice versa, whose work do they like but don’t like the person?

What common etiquette do they disagree with? Do they still follow it?

What simple activity that most people do / can do scares your character?

What do they feel guilty for that the other person(s) doesn’t / don’t even remember?

Did they take a cookie from the cookie jar? What kind of cookie was it?

What subject / topic do they know a lot about that’s completely useless to the direct plot?

How would they respond to being fired by a good boss?

What’s the worst gift they ever received? How did they respond?

What do they tell people they want? What do they actually want?

How do they respond when someone doesn’t believe them?

When they make a mistake and feel bad, does the guilt differ when it’s personal versus when it’s professional?

When do they feel the most guilt? How do they respond to it?

If they committed one petty crime / misdemeanor, what would it be? Why?

How do they greet someone they dislike / hate?

How do they greet someone they like / love?

What is the smallest, morally questionable choice they’ve made?

Who do they keep in their life for professional gain? Is it for malicious intent?

What’s a secret they haven’t told serious romantic partners and don’t plan to tell?

What hobby are they good at in private, but bad at in front of others? Why?

Would they rather be invited to an event to feel included or be excluded from an event if they were not genuinely wanted there?

How do they respond to a loose handshake? What goes through their head?

What phrases, pronunciations, or mannerisms did they pick up from someone / somewhere else?

If invited to a TED Talk, what topic would they present on? What would the title of their presentation be?

What do they commonly misinterpret because of their own upbringing / environment / biases? How do they respond when realizing the misunderstanding?

What language would be easiest for them to learn? Why?

What’s something unimportant / frivolous that they hate passionately?

Are they a listener or a talker? If they’re a listener, what makes them talk? If they’re a talker, what makes them listen?

Who have they forgotten about that remembers them very well?

Who would they say ‘yes’ to if invited to do something they abhorred / strongly didn’t want to do?

Would they eat something they find gross to be polite?

What belief / moral / personality trait do they stand by that you (mun) personally don’t agree with?

What’s a phrase they say a lot?

Do they act on their immediate emotions, or do they wait for the facts before acting?

Who would / do they believe without question?

What’s their instinct in a fight / flight / freeze / fawn situation?

What’s something they’re expected to enjoy based on their hobbies / profession that they actually dislike / hate?

If they’re scared, who do they want comfort from? Does this answer change depending on the type of fear?

What’s a simple daily activity / motion that they mess up often?

How many hobbies have they attempted to have over their lifetime? Is there a common theme?

[throwawayhero]

Izuku w a chubby reader⁉️⁉️😣🙏🏽🙏🏽

Of course 🥳 I apologise for taking so goddamn long to get this finished. I also just want to say that you are perfect the way you are, and I understand how you’re feeling based off of your recent posts/reblogs. My DMs are always open if you want to talk, I know that you won’t take up the offer, but it’s there for you just in case. Stay safe 🤍

c/w: not proof read, afab, nsfw at the end, pro-hero Deku, pro-hero reader, half assed asf

For the majority of your life you had been more so on the chubbier side. Relatives said that it was cute and smothered you for it. You had always been some level of insecure, although lately it had worsened drastically. People picking on you for it more, snarky comments here and there from family. Friends even. Strangers.

They were just a part of life you supposed. Something you sadly had to get used to. You would think that after all these years you would’ve been able to tune them out, but every single time it’s like a fresh wound joining the collection. Izuku was always the first person to comfort to.

“They don’t know you on a personal level, so don't take it personally, yeah?”

“I swear I saw that posted on Instagram somewhere.”

“..It's still true.”

He loves you for you and all your special quirks. He’s always been attracted to you, regardless of your weight. It’s a win in his books.

He’s devoted to your hugs. Genuinely. If he had the right equipment and the time for it, he would genuinely set up a shrine/altar to praise you for your hugs. He’s down bad.

He isn’t one for extensive PDA, a kiss here and there, but let me get this straight: my guy will TACKLE you for a hug. Whenever, wherever. Whether it be in the middle of a street interview, the road torn up and rubble-filled, or while you’re standing with the door open in the frozen section of a supermarket. You’re a natural heat generator too, which might explain the frozen section hugs.

Genuinely enjoys going clothes shopping with you, offering his opinion on some of the pieces every once in a while. Always muttering about how ridiculous the prices are. 100% Your biggest hype-man. You are single-handedly the most attractive woman he has ever laid his eyes on, and nothing will ever change that.

“Gosh you are just stunning.”

“… There’s no way you just said ‘Gosh’ unironically.”

Absolutely adores your thighs. His favourite thing to do is lay with his head in your lap while you play with his hair and tell him about your day. His second favourite thing to do is grind his aching cock between your thighs as he watches your every move, eventually blowing a load on your stomach with a slutty moan. 🫡

[padfootagain]

Love in verses (XXVI)

Chapter 26: ‘Well, how else are you to live except by denial’

Hi! Here is a new chapter! This is one of my favourites, just… some adorable stuff!

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 4227

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Earl

In Sitka, because they are fond of them, People have named the seals. Every seal is named Earl because they are killed one after another by the orca, the killer whale; seal bodies tossed left and right into the air. “At least he didn’t get Earl,” someone says. And sure enough, after a time, that same friendly, bewhiskered face bobs to the surface. It’s Earl again. Well, how else are you to live except by denial, by some palatable fiction, some little song to sing while the inevitable, the black and white blindsiding fact, comes hurtling toward you out of the deep?

Louis Jenkins

The pain in your abdomen was a sensation you were used to, sadly. You recognized the pattern in the intensity, you knew it perfectly after years of suffering once a month. This month seemed to be particularly nasty though, and there was little doubt on to why. Your stress was so high these days, between your new job, your research, your career, and Frank’s bloody wedding… You were drowning, to be fair. Drowning in an ocean of emotions. You bent in front of your sink, waiting for the wave of pain to fade again, closing tightly your eyes, while the microwave beeped with the heating pad now reaching a burning temperature. You placed it on your stomach, not caring about your skin, only about the pain under it.

Damn… that was a bad month…

You stood straighter again, letting out a long and careful exhale, relaxing once more. Your head was spinning a little, but you didn’t dare to eat too much for now, your nausea was too bad and you didn’t want to end up throwing up. You settled for a bit of rice and an apple for lunch.

You were supposed to see Andrew this afternoon, but there was no way you could plan on fucking up Frank’s appointment at the tailor when it was hard to stand… At least, it was the weekend, you didn’t have to deal with work, and could spend your day being a burrito on your couch while watching TV and eating junk food.

You were supposed to shop for groceries in the morning, but you didn’t have the strength for that either, so you decided that you would get some food delivered for the rest of the weekend and would tackle the issue of not dying of starvation on Monday.

You sat down on your couch, at long last, heaving a sigh of relief. You held the heating pad against your stomach, covered yourself with a blanket and grabbed your phone while you turned on the TV.

You pressed on Andrew’s name on whatsapp while the tu-dum noise of Netflix echoed in your living room.

You heaved a sigh…

… you had forgotten tea… never mind, you were too much in pain and too tired to be bothered making some tea now that you were seated.

Back to your phone, you typed your message quickly.

Hi Andy! Sorry, but I’m not feeling well today, gonna have to cancel for this afternoon. We’ll talk about our plans next week. Hope you have a nice weekend, see you on Monday! Xx

You pressed ‘send’ and started browsing in the list of movies available on your TV screen.

Your phone lit up with Andrew’s name.

Sorry to hear that! Are you alright? Do you want me to drop you something?

You were too tired not to acknowledge the warmth that spread in your chest as you read his text.

Nothing to worry about, don’t worry.

His answer was quick to arrive.

Are you sure? You want me to drive you to a doctor or something?

You chuckled at his obvious worry. He really was too sweet…

No, I’m okay. Period being bitches, that’s all. I can handle it.

He answered with a thumbs up right under your text, right when you found Pride and Prejudice was on Netflix…

Well, it looked like your afternoon was all set.

You cursed under your breath. You didn’t have any snacks. Not even chocolate… and your kitchen was so fucking far… a whole ten steps away…

Damn you and your stupid brain.

You were surprised when you received another text from Andy.

So, what’s planned for today? Did you get your groceries this morning?

You snorted at the mere thought.

Nah. Too much in pain. Too tired to go to the kitchen and make myself tea, so imagine going outside with people?! No, thanks.

I’m gonna spend my afternoon with Mr. Darcy instead.

You waited for his answer, ignoring your TV now.

The Keira Kinghtley movie?

You sent him a thumbs up.

Will you hate me if I admit that I’ve never watched that film?

You almost dropped your phone.

YOU’VE NEVER SEEN PRIDE AND PREJUDICE?!

OH THAT’S IT! DISHONOUR! DISHONOUR ON YOUR WHOLE FAMILY!

He sent a laughing emoji.

You’ve forgotten the dishonour on me and my cow too…

You couldn’t refrain a laugh, even though it hurt your stomach.

You don’t have a cow. But I’ll take it out on Elwood.

You could picture the grin on his face at the joke.

HOW DARE YOU! HE’S SUCH A GOOD BOY!

Elwood, my son, don’t listen to the nasty lady…

You laughed again, but quickly stopped this time, the pain getting too strong.

You didn’t think as you wrote your next text.

You could drop by and watch it with me.

You reread the text and realised your mistake; your eyes grew round. You were in your old pyjamas, you hadn’t showered and had no intention to do so, your hair was a mess, you hadn’t washed your dishes…

You wanted to delete the text, but the blue symbols under it let you know that he had already read it.

Damn it!

I mean… I’m in pain, grumpy and look like trash…

So… maybe not the most pleasant way to spend your afternoon.

Feel free to refuse.

You waited for his answer, watched the dancing dots, until a text was received.

I’d love to, actually.

Besides, I am not five, I know about menstrual cycles, thank you very much…

You bit on your lips as you hesitated.

You’ve never seen me like that.

 A pause. You guessed that he had rephrased his text several times.

Would that make you feel uncomfortable?

You thought about it for a second. Frank didn’t really pay attention to that part of you. It was cliché, but you knew he was making a conscious effort to acknowledge your period and how much of a burden they were to you. You saw it as him making an effort at the time. Now, you were worried Andrew would be the same, with typical disappointing male behaviour…

And yet, you didn’t care. You couldn’t find a way to care. You couldn’t imagine Andrew, out of all people, disappointing you on that. Perhaps it was naïve, you weren’t sure. Your answer was earnest anyway.

No

His answer came in a matter of seconds.

Give me forty minutes to come over then.

You smiled.

An hour then.

You laughed again at his answer.

Gobshite…

You didn’t select the movie for now and merely watched some crappy TV instead, with whatever was on.

You tried not to pay too much thought on how excited you were at the idea of Andy coming soon…

Andrew ended up ringing at your door an hour and fifteen minutes later, proving you right about his time blindness, and the thought made you smile. You had washed your dishes waiting for him, using a fifteen-minutes break from the pain to stretch your legs and attempt to look like a human being. The pain was soon back with full strength though, and you gave up on the idea to change into a proper outfit. You remained in your comfortable pyjamas, tied your hair up to hide the mess it was, and went back to suffering on the couch, the heating pad growing colder and less effective, but you were too tired to get up again.

You groaned as Andrew rang at your door, forcing yourself to stand. You couldn’t hold yourself completely straight, not with the pain in your stomach being now combined with a sharp stinging sensation in your lower back. You opened the door still, and welcomed Andrew with a genuine smile.

He was wearing his hair in a bun today, his glasses perched on his nose, and a warm smile on his lips as his gaze rested upon you. He looked gorgeous in a simple brown jacket, dark jeans and a black turtleneck. You couldn’t refrain the way your heart fluttered at the sight, nor the butterflies that were added to your painful stomach.

“Hey! God, you do look like shite,” he exclaimed, but there was worry in his frown despite the obvious teasing in his voice.

“Thanks for the compliment,” you stuck your tongue out, and he couldn’t refrain a chuckle.

He walked inside, took off his shoes and jacket, and it’s only when he set the bags on the floor to do so that you noticed them.

“What’s that?” you asked.

“Groceries.”

You looked up at him with a puzzled look.

“Jeez… if you were busy this afternoon, you should have declined!”

He laughed, and you were more puzzled than ever.

“These are for you,” he clarified, picking up the bags again.

You blinked up at him.

“For… me?”

“Yeah… you said you didn’t get any groceries this morning. Can’t let you starve! Come on, get a move on, these need to go in the fridge.”

You let him pass, followed him in your kitchen. He started to empty the two paper bags on your kitchen counter.

“I didn’t get you much, just enough to last for a couple of days. Pass the weekend. Nothing that needs fancy cooking either, don’t worry. Mostly pasta, rice, and a few vegetables and fruits. I also got some take out for tonight, so you don’t have to bother with cooking today. Chinese, hope you’re in the mood for that. And then, the obvious ice cream, crisps and chocolate combo. Oh, and I bought you this tea! My mom recommended it once for menstrual cramps to one of my cousins, and it’s apparently pretty nice, so… thought you could use that too.”

He looked up at you then, after his little babbling. He frowned at your expression though, and you noticed the shift in his demeanour: the way he shrank, bending over himself instead of standing straight, with his full height. Trying to look smaller than he was, to occupy as little space as possible. He rubbed nervously at his collarbone.

“I… I thought it would make things easier for you. I… I’m sorry if I’m overstepping… if you… sorry. Sorry…”

But he was interrupted by your arms around him; you almost tackled him with the strength, and you heard the loud huff he let out at the impact. It took him a couple of seconds to close his arms around you too, but then it felt like he was unwilling to ever let go.

“Thank you so much,” you mumbled into his chest. “That’s… so fucking sweet, Andy.”

“That’s nothing,” he tried to brush your thankfulness away, but you could hear in his voice that he was smiling again, feel that his body was relaxing once more. “I didn’t mean to overstep… I just… I just thought it would make it easier for you.”

You spotted your favourite chocolate on the table, along with some ice-cream.

“These are my favourite,” you whispered.

“I know.”

“You didn’t have to do that…”

“It’s nothing.”

You didn’t say it. You didn’t say that Frank had never done that for you. And Andrew did? When he wasn’t your boyfriend? When he didn’t even have feelings for you?

“Do you need anything else?” he asked, rubbing your back, and the caress was so soothing you were ready to cry. “Painkillers or something? I can go to the pharmacy…”

“I’ve got that covered, don’t worry. Thank you.”

“Right…”

Another cramp came breaking your embrace, you let out a groan as you held your painful stomach. You tried not to think of how your heart stumbled and missed a few beats when Andrew brushed a messy strand of your hair behind your ear.

“You really don’t look well. You should sit down.”

“I need to reheat my heating pad…”

“I’ll do it. I’ll do that, love. Sit down, okay?”

‘Love’… he had called you ‘love’… You wanted to cry…

Why were you so affected by it? It was Andy. It was Andy, not Frank, and you wanted Frank, you wanted Frank, you wanted…

He walked into the living room about 10 minutes later, carrying your heating pad under his arm, ice cream and some chocolate. He had to go back to the kitchen to fetch your two cups of tea.

“Alright… need anything else?”

You shook your head, and he settled on the sofa next to you. Readjusted the blanket so it would cover your feet. You didn’t recognise the flavour of the tea, you reckoned he had made a cup of the one his mother had recommended.

You refused to name the feeling that was spreading across your entire body, the unbearable fondness aimed at Andrew that came with it.

I want Frank, I want Frank, I want Frank…

“Alright, let’s watch Mr. Darcy getting rejected…” he grinned at you, as if he was at his happiest, as if he couldn’t have thought of a better way to spend his afternoon than to watch Pride and Prejudice with you while nursing you back to health because you were on your period…

You scoffed, trying to hide the tears in your eyes by looking for the movie on Netflix again.

“He doesn’t just get rejected. They do get together at the end, you know?”

“Thanks for spoiling it all to me…”

“Wait… you told me you read the book…”

He laughed.

“I did! I was joking, like… It was a joke. I did read it. I simply haven’t watched any adaptation.”

“Wow… Oh… so you haven’t seen the one with Colin Firth either?! The BBC series?”

“Nope…” he answered, popping the ‘p’ before taking a sip of his tea.

Two teabags. As always. The detail made you smile.

“Okay, that is going to be our next activity together.”

He laughed, but didn’t contradict you, on the contrary.

“Well, I guess my next Sunday is all booked…”

“Indeed, it is!” you grinned, but your tone was too soft not to show how emotional the thought of spending another afternoon like this with Andrew made you feel.

He didn’t comment on that, though, and you were grateful for it.

He reached for your coffee table, where he had put the two sets of ice-cream and spoons, and handed you one.

Your heating pad was back on your stomach, warm and effectively soothing your cramps. You seized the opportunity to eat a large spoonful of chocolate ice cream.

You moaned at the taste.

“Andy… this is perfect, I hope you’re aware of how amazing you are.”

He chuckled, but there was something a little sad in his eyes when he looked down at his food, a tinge of melancholy. You didn’t know why.

“Bribing you with chocolate is the way to your heart, then,” he joked, clearly stirring the conversation away from himself, while pushing his glasses higher on his nose.

“Of course,” you rolled your eyes, starting the film.

You exchanged another smile, while the movie started. You didn’t realise your own movements as you scooted closer to him on the couch, and neither did he notice how he leaned towards you, until your arms were softly touching.

“You have bewitched me, body and soul. And I love… I love… I love you…”

You heaved a sigh after whispering the words in sync with Mr. Darcy, clutching at your heart, burying your face further in Andrew’s shoulder.

You weren’t sure when you had ended up in Andrew’s arms, but you were now. He had wrapped an arm around your shoulders at one point, noticing how livid you had become because of the pain, how you had tried to withhold your wince but failed. And it was meant as a temporary anchor, a soothing gesture that should have lasted just a few minutes, until the pain subsided again. But when you relaxed once more, he didn’t pull away, and instead of freeing yourself from his hold, you leaned closer, sank deeper into his embrace. And now, he was resting his long fingers on your waist, while you leaned into his chest.

Which was… better not think about boundaries and friendship and professional behaviour and all those limits you were breaking.

Meanwhile, Andrew was brushing a tear away, but you spotted it before he could pretend it hadn’t happened.

“I know… I know…” you patted his chest, trying not to notice that you were touching his chest. “I cry every time too.”

“For proof,” he chuckled, brushing your tear away with his thumb, making your heart stutter and expand to the point that you wondered how it hadn’t broken any of your ribs yet.

“It’s Jane Austen’s superpower, Andy… we can do nothing against it,” you concluded before nuzzling into his chest again.

“I’ll have to agree,” he nodded.

You noticed how his breathing was a little irregular for a moment, when you shifted to be a little more comfortable in his arms, but he didn’t push you away, didn’t move at all, in fact. Instead, he waited for you to settle again, readjusted the blanket on both of you, and stared at the end of the movie. His cheeks were turning a bright shade of red. You hated the thought that crossed your mind…

There were but a couple of minutes left, it was the end: Mr. Darcy had walked across the moor already, he had declared his love and Elizabeth had accepted his hand in marriage. They were waiting for Elizabeth’s father. You were staring at Andrew, the feeling of your gaze on him made him look down as well, catching your eyes with his. His hazel eyes, they looked so green now, in the rather bright light of the late afternoon, and the tears he had dried just before had enhanced that colour too. Green… like leaves bathed in sunlight during the summer… you loved that shade…

You didn’t even notice when the screen went dark, when the credits started rolling. You were thinking of Andrew, of how sweet he had been all afternoon, of how handsome he looked now, how much turtlenecks suited him, how cute he looked with his glasses…

He blinked a couple of times, as if he were coming back from a reverie, and looked at the TV again. You looked at his profile, found yourself longing to run your fingers through his short beard, noticed the red tainting the brown of his hair.

“Well, that was an amazing film,” he easily admitted, bringing you back to earth.

And indeed, the story was over. Mr. Bennett had accepted their union. Elizabeth would marry Mr. Darcy. All ended well. Black screen and a list of names, printed in white pixels…

You pushed yourself out of Andrew’s arms.

Back to reality now… and in the real world, you wanted Frank. You wanted Frank. You wanted Frank…

You looked away in a hurry, and trembled at the loss of contact, when Andrew finally moved his hand away from your waist.

You kept on talking about the film for a while, but eventually, Andrew checked the time.

“I should get going, let you get something to eat. And I mean… something proper. Not snacks,” he teased, standing up and taking the remnants of your various snacks with him to the kitchen.

And you had to tell yourself that mantra again. Because your heart was aching at the thought of Andrew leaving. Which was ridiculous because you would see him in two days. Which was ridiculous because he was only a friend. A colleague, even. And it was ridiculous because you didn’t want him, you wanted Frank. You loved Frank. You wanted the life you had with him back. You… you wanted Frank. You wanted Frank… You… You wanted…

“Andy?”

He reappeared, coming from the kitchen, and tilted his head a little as a silent invitation for you to speak again.

“Do… do you want to stay for dinner?”

He stared at you for a few seconds, long enough for you to start spiralling and babbling…

“Unless you need to take care of Elwood…”

“No, my parents took him to the seaside today, they’re keeping him for the night. He’s living his best life, trust me. I bet my dad is giving him all the treats he wants.”

“Or like… I mean… you’ve already spent your afternoon with me, even if I’m sick and not the best company today, and… yeah, I totally get it if you don’t want to stay, like… that’s…”

“Y/N.”

“Hmmm?”

“I’d love to stay.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

Because I’m too much to take care of…

You merely shrugged in response, making him chuckle, clearly unaware of your thoughts.

“Well, if you’re not bored of me yet, I’d love to stay for dinner.”

You grinned.

“Grand…” you nodded, and Andrew disappeared in the kitchen again to prepare dinner.

Still, you noticed how he was smiling when he turned around, how he was blushing, too…

You ended up watching tv again after dinner. The pain wasn’t as vivid as it had been during the rest of the day, and so you were more comfortable during that part of the evening. So much so that you started dozing off, as you were watching for the nth time how Luke and Han were trying to save Leia.

You had stumbled upon a rerun of the old Star Wars movies, and settled on the nostalgic feeling of these stories to end the day. Andrew was supposed to go home after the end of the movie, once the Death Star was gone and Leia was placing medals on the heroes’ chest.

Andrew had made you laugh with his best impression of Chewbacca, and you had made him choke on his glass of water with one of your jokes and snarky remarks. It was lovely, but you were so tired you neared exhaustion by now. So, it was quite logical that you started dozing off after a while, losing tracks of the story when Han and Luke were dressed as stormtroopers.

You hadn’t noticed that your head had fallen on Andrew’s shoulder as you were falling asleep. You didn’t notice how he stopped paying attention to the movie when you did. How his heart started pounding at how adorable you looked like this. He waited for a few minutes, to see if you would stir and wake up again, but you didn’t. He stared at you for a moment longer, but you weren’t aware of it. You weren’t aware either of the longing in his gaze, of the smile on his lips as he watched how peaceful you looked in your sleep.

You blinked your eyes open again only when you felt something slipping under your knees and behind your back, felt the warmth upon which your head rested move.

“Andy?” you called in your drowsy state, still unable to understand what was happening, where you were…

“I’m here, love.”

That pet name again… were you dreaming it?

You reached up, held onto a soft fabric, and somehow, despite the fact that you had closed your eyes once more, you knew it was Andrew’s turtleneck.

“You’re falling asleep, you need to go to bed,” he said softly, his voice unbearably low and deep, it made your heart skip a few beats and warmth spread across your entire frame.

And it sounded so reassuring… so safe… He was so reassuring…

You nuzzled into his shoulder, breathing in his scent. His cologne, his softener, him…

“Can I help you reach your bed? Can I do that? Is that okay?” he asked in the same caring voice, and you nodded. But then again, you would have accepted anything, for as long as you could remain in his warmth, as long as his voice came back…

You realised then that he was slipping his arms under you, it took a moment longer for your brain to register he meant to carry you.

“I can walk,” you whispered, opening your eyes again and forcing yourself to look at him.

You were too stunned when he bent down to kiss your hair to argue when he told you there was no need, that he got you, that you could close your eyes again. You obeyed, having no strength left to argue, and you wrapped your arms around his neck when he stood up and lifted you off the couch.

He readjusted your position, and then you were vaguely aware of moving, while he walked through your apartment. You nuzzled closer, your forehead brushing his jaw and your entire body trembled as you felt his beard against your skin.

Too soon, he was gently putting you down on your comfortable mattress, tucking you in, under your warm blanket.

You blinked your eyes open before he could leave, found his hazel eyes looking down at you. He seemed so tall like this, standing above your bed.

“Thank you, Andy. For everything.”

He smiled, gesture gentle and full of fondness.

“Sleep well, Y/N. Goodnight.”

He tucked a strand of your hair away from your face, and the brush of his fingers across your cheek made you close your eyes for good.

Your last thoughts were of him, while you heard him move away from the bed, recognized the creaking of the tiles by the door of your bedroom.

God, you wanted him so much…

[bugboybuck]

My least favourite part of trying to voice my concerns on the Instagram posts is the Buddie Goblins come out and start harassing me and trying to tell me how things are. Excuse me? I’m a gay man who has been out and proud for longer than you’ve been alive and have been happily in my relationship with a bisexual man for 7 and a half years. Keep your BS to yourself child. I have no problems using the block on disrespectful little snots online.

god, this truly is the mess of it all. i've been in fandoms where shitty plots have ruined things before and it's always painful, but never where there was such a vocal other side trying to minimise people's legitimate feelings about it. my insta comments have had several replies w ppl 'calling me out' for all manner of stupid things while i'm just being respectfully but legitimately upset, and i just have to block them but i'm also just there foaming at the mouth like BITCH !! i'm a full lesbian adult who has lived with my bi partner for nearly 6 years i am actually talking about my lived experience when i talk about this plot !!! eat glass! taking comfort that they're boosting our comments to the top of the post by replying to them at least, i guess?

[dirty-dirty-muggle]

Okay I’ve been thinking about this because I recently came back to HP fandom after being away for nearly a decade and things aren’t how they used to be. Now, I’ve been in HP fandom spaces since the early 00s (yes, i’m old) and it’s weird to me coming back how much pro/anti stuff there is and how much division there seems to be around different characters and ships. I find it incredibly sad and disheartening.

I don’t remember any of this occurring when I left fandom or before, and it honestly feels completely counter to what I believe fan spaces are supposed to be, which is for sharing love and excitement. What I remember of the majority of HP fandom of old is people liked what they liked, shared what they loved, and ignored what they didn’t. If they were discussing not liking something, it was presented as personal opinion or an essay for open discussion, not a denigrating attack against anyone who thinks or likes differently. If you commented negatively on someone’s fanwork, or harassed someone for their fave character or ship, or went on lengthy anti-tirades, you were considered an asshole or a weirdo.

At the end of the day, we are talking about FANTASY. Why does it matter if someone loves a character or ship you don’t? Fandom is about fiction and that means it’s intended to be somewhere we can explore things we can’t irl, to enjoy things just for the sake of enjoying them. Fandom is supposed to be a safe, communal space.

It’s a sad reflection of the world at large, in my opinion, and hoo-boy do I wish more people would self-reflect why other people enjoying things they don’t makes them feel insecure and why they feel the need to be so hateful and angry—and then go get some therapy. The world isn’t black and white, and one of the best parts about fandom spaces is how diverse they are, because it means you can always find someone else who loves what you love.

So please, go love your favourite characters and ships, and let others do the same. We’re all better off for it.

(And if you would like a much smarter and more in depth explanation of “it’s fantasy and fiction so let people like and write what they want” along with a brilliant discussion on fantasy and sex more generally, I leave you with this video essay by Contrapoints on Twilight.)

Uh- are you aware of the meaning of proship?

Proship has never meant anything except a combination of three ideas:

Ship and let ship (your ships don't harm me and vice-versa) and YKINMK (your kink is not my kink, and that's okay; my kink stories don't harm you and vice-versa)

Harassment over fiction is not acceptable

Censorship of fiction is not acceptable either

Any other definitions are made by antis, not proshippers, and are an attempt at revisionism to justify harassment based on false claims.

[verysadlesbian]

Now that I have sat with my thoughts for a couple of days, I want to talk about some things:

There are too many people trying to defend Caitlyn's actions, so I have to say: NOTHING, and I mean absolutely nothing, justifies fascism. "Oh but she's grieving and blahblahblah" you know who else was grieving?! The mother of the kid Jayce killed in season 1. You know who else?! Vi and Powder that saw enforcers murder their parents, just like many other children from Zaun. Caitlyn destroyed her mother's legacy in the police brutality™️ operation, you understand how fucked up this is? Her mother's recording is saying "the people from Zaun deserve to breathe," and she did it anyways. If you sympathise with Piltover, you're either part of the problem or naïve enough to fall for fascist propaganda.

Ekko is the only real one. Not a single slightly evil bone in his body. Everything he does, he does for his people, not in a persuit of power, or revenge. He's genuinely good, so much so that he's willing to hang out with not only Heimerdinger, but also Jayce just so he could protect his community. He deserves so much better and I'll be heartbroken when he finds out that Vi was involved in Caitlyn's operation.

I don't know how Vi can forgive Caitlyn after what happened. I know I wouldn't. It just goes to show that you cannot trust that privileged people are going to be different just cause they were nice to you. Viktor found that out in season 1 and Vi is finding this out now.

Do you guys think the black rose is gonna pretend to be Mel?! I don't play LOL, but it is to my understanding that the black rose can make clones, so it'd be obvious that they're gonna take Mel's identity

Saw some people on twitter and tiktok (of course they were there) denying that jayvik has heavy romantic undertones by stating "they're friends! They're like brothers! Why everything has to be gay now?" and EVERYTHING HAS TO BE GAY CAUSE I SAID SO, NOW SHUT UP! But seriously though, I understand that to cishet viewers, their relationship might seem strictly platonic, 'cause they lack the eye that we, queer people, have for these things. And that's okay. Not everyone needs to understand the nuances of a homoerotic friendship. But in the same breath, they're quick to say that "Viktor was thinking about Sky, so obviously he's straight" and that pissed me off, cause: 1 - have you looked at him?; 2 - He feels responsible for her death (cause he was)! He's thinking about her because he feels GUILTY! that man was not interested in Sky whatsoever; 3 - it's so heteronormative to think that a man and a woman can't be friends, they're so adamant in denying jayvik cause "they're friends!" but they do the same fucking thing!; and finally 4 - HAVE YOU LOOKED AT HIM???

Anyone that sides with Piltover would probably be a zionist as well. I don't have to explain this.

The trio "Sevika, Jinx and Isha" is probably my favourite thing in Act 1, I just can't get enough of them.

[waaayoutofline]

Murder on the Dance Floor (part 2)

(from the When the Cat and the Mouse Go For a Midnight Dance series)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Marvel Masterlist

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Prompt: Vigilante!Reader x Agent!Natasha

Summary: Natasha isn’t having the best of luck in trying to bring one of the ex Hydras general down. You however may be able to assist her. Will you two be able to cooperate? Or is it your fate to always stand on opposite teams?

Warnings: A tiny bit suggestive.

WORD COUNT: 2724

The pulsing beat of the music could be heard from outside the dimly lit street, matching Natasha’s tense state. She was usually calm, collected when handling missions, but this was the exception—because this time, she was working with you. Just the thought left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Honestly, if someone had told her a year ago that she’d agree to cooperate with you of all people, she would have laughed right to their face. But that didn’t matter now. She needed to get her hands on Horvat, and, unfortunately, you were her best—if only—shot at it.

Adjusting her earpiece, Natasha willed herself forward, slipping past security and flashing one of her fake IDs to the bouncer. After a quick nod, she was finally able to sweep her gaze over the crowd moving around the dance floor. In her earpiece, Yelena’s voice crackled. “See her yet?”

“No,” Natasha muttered, keeping her tone low as she moved toward a secluded spot by the bar. “She’s late. And honestly, I’m not even surprised.”

The blonde hummed thoughtfully. “Hmm. She seems…”

“Irresponsible? Selfish? A brat?” Natasha interrupted, her words sharp as she shrugged off her vest and left it on the stool beside her. “Those are just on top my head.”

“I was going for interesting. I have never seen anyone getting under your skin the way she does.” The redhead rolled her eyes, tapping her feet on the ground as she was searching between the participants.

”This is just unprofessional. I mean, who even isn’t on time for their own plan?” She sighs. “I should've known she’d pull something like this.”

Natasha remembers perfectly your encounter a few hours ago. 

The two of you ended up meeting in a neutral spot to, as you put it, “chat things up.” It was weird for the two of you to just… talk. You were as teasing as ever when you explained that the way for you both to gain access to the Hydra operative was to do something as ridiculous as joining a dance competition.

“You are joking.” Natasha repeated, baffled. But you made no move to correct yourself. 

“It is what it is, Agent Romanoff. Seems our friend is one of those eccentric types—loves all forms of art, but dance is his favourite. The competition is being held here by him.” You handed her a slip of paper with a hastily scribbled address and a list of pairs. “These are the couples registered.”

Natasha scanned it, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Wait—some of these couples, I know them. They’re actual professionals, Raven,” she noted, using your codename. Not like she was sure that the name you’d given her was even your real one.

“Oh, calm down agent. You’ve got me on your dream team now,” you answered with a wink that did nothing to reassure her. “And it’s not like we have other options. The winners get a super-duper exclusive VIP card that grants access to the elite party Horvat is hosting.”

Natasha’s reluctance must’ve been clear because you sighed in exasperation at the clear lack of enthusiasm. “Look, it’s the best I could do given your strict rules, alright?”

“I wouldn’t say that not murdering or maiming anyone counts as strict rules,” she replied, unimpressed. 

“Oh, come on. Where’s your sense of adventure? Aren’t you the fearless Black Widow?” you teased, your voice low, just loud enough for her to hear. You leaned in, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “And here thought you were this fearless superspy. But See, I have a different perspective. To these people, we’re just amateurs. That’s our advantage.”

“Is it?” Natasha raised an eyebrow, her gaze sharp, but something about the way you were looking at her made her uneasy.

You grinned, stepping closer, your breath warm against her ear as you leaned in conspiratorially. “Absolutely. They won’t even see it coming when I take them down one by one…”

The intensity in your voice caught her off guard. There was something almost dangerous in your tone, that manic glint in your eyes that she couldn’t quite ignore. Natasha’s eyes narrowed as she put distance and shot you a warning glare.

You slightly raised your hands in mock surrender, but there was still something in your smile that made her pulse quicken. “Alright, alright, no need for that. I promise, no murder on the dance floor. Besides, I’m not here to show off.”

Her gaze never left you, knowing better than to believe that. You thrived on chaos, on the twisted thrill of it all. And she hated how it seemed to pull her in each time, how close you were making her feel to something she couldn’t quite control.

“This is the plan,” you continued, your voice soft but insistent. “We get through a few rounds, win that VIP pass, and make it into Horvat’s inner circle. Nice and easy.”

You closed the distance even more, your face just inches from hers. Without hesitation, you pulled a card from your pocket, letting it slip between your fingers with a practised ease. “Here’s the address. Dress to impress. Preferably black and burgundy?” you murmured, your hand brushing against her chest as you slipped it into the pocket of her vest, your fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary. “The color really suits your eyes.” You purred. 

Natasha could feel the heat of your touch, every movement too intimate for comfort, and yet, she couldn’t look away. You had a way of getting close—too close—and she watched every movement, every subtle shift of your body, all while her heart beat a little faster than she wanted to admit. It was like every single nerve on her body screaming in conflict whenever you acted this dangerously. 

She is only bought out of her stupor when she notices a shift in between the crowd. For an instant, she thinks that the contest already started, but that thought quickly goes away when she saw the true reason for the multitude to part like melted butter.

There you are, walking as if you owned the place with a confidence that bordered on arrogance. Seemingly ignoring all the eyes landing on you like dominoes and yet preening under the attention like a lazy cat basking under the sun. Your smile was deceivingly innocent, gentle yet cocky in the subtlest of ways. 

Her eyes couldn’t help to take you in. 

The dark red dress you wore hugged your body perfectly, like a second skin, as if melting with each of your movements. The dress was seamless, held up only by thin straps that dipped into a daring neckline, exposing just enough to make anyone want more. The shimmering sequins embroidered along the curve of your hips glinted teasingly under the retro disco ball, casting a mesmerizing array of shimmering reds. The lacy fringe of the hem stopped just shy of your mid-thigh, blending with the flowery skirt that revealed both your legs in tantalizing glimpses.

As embarrassing as it was, she was just another victim that couldn’t seem to take her eyes away. Try to regain composure, she did her best to maintain a bit of her dignity, not wanting to give you any leash for you to tug on. 

Taking a steadying breath, Natasha forced herself to fold her arms, straighten her spine, and lift her chin, trying to cloak herself in her usual calm and untouchable persona. But her eyes had a mind of their own, betraying her as they lingered on you, watching every movement despite herself.

When you finally reached her, your gaze met hers, and Natasha had the unsettling feeling that you saw right through every barrier she’d put up. That awareness sent a chill of discomfort down her spine. Stepping closer, you set your purse down on the stool beside her with slow, deliberate movements that she couldn’t help but follow. Without breaking eye contact, you smirked.

“Enjoying the view, Agent Romanoff?” you purred, each word slipping from your lips as if laced with honey. But Natasha knew that the sweetness could be someone’s poison just as easily.

She scoffed. “Your arrogance is staggering.”

Feigning a pout, you tilted your head, feigning hurt. “Is it so wrong to give a lady a compliment once in a while?” Then, with a playful glint in your eyes, you leaned in, letting your gaze trace over her in a way that was unmistakably bold, yet foolishly innocent. “Well, I’m not scared to admit that you look gorgeous.”

You complimented while taking her in. 

Her hair was pinned up into a tight braid that left her neck exposed. The dark red shirt she wore clung to her perfectly, the satin fabric being comfortable and hinting at the lines of muscle and curves beneath. Sleeveless, it exposed her toned arms. The neckline went straight into a tight V, just enough for showing the delicate, pale skin of her sternum. Opting for practically, she paired it with paired with sleek, tailored trousers in a matching deep red—almost black in the low light (not that she had in mind your previous recommendation when choosing this of course). A polished belt cinched her waist, the silver buckle slightly off centred.  There was no doubt in your mind that she wore a strapped in blade attached to her ankle, ready and waiting. 

The thought did nothing but send a rush of excitement up your spine.

A blur at the corner of your vision catches your attention, and the teasing persona you reserve for Natasha vanishes abruptly. As much as you enjoyed being the cause of her losing her composure, you had a job to do—and you’d be damned if you failed.

Without giving Natasha a chance to react, you catch her shoulders and pull her against you, manoeuvring both of you closer to the bar. Natasha flinches slightly at the sudden movement, instinctively placing one arm around your waist and the other on the counter to steady herself. Her eyes widen as she meets your gaze up close, the rich scent of vanilla filling her senses.

Your cool hand resting on her bare shoulder makes her breath catch in her throat. “What do you think you’re doing?” she manages to say, intending it to sound like a reprimand, but the words come out soft and breathless, betraying her surprise.

“Just trying to avoid starting at a disadvantage,” you replied smoothly, as if the lack of distance between you two wasn’t affecting you in the slightest. Natasha hated that—hated how unbothered you seemed. If anything, you leaned in even closer, your lips hovering just shy of her ear. Natasha heard a muted complaint of disgust, followed by her sister saying something about “This is worse than Papa and Mama.Cutting off now.” She wasn’t really paying attention.

“Over my shoulder. One of the three judges,” you murmured, voice low and soft against her skin. “They’re not just ranking our dancing skills, but the… chemistry between partners. So if you want this to go smoothly, I’d suggest pretending you don’t hate my guts for a while.”

The last sentence dripped with a teasing mockery, and Natasha clenched her jaw, willing herself not to react. The word "hate" echoed in her mind, though, twisting uncomfortably as if not really settling in. Hate wasn’t exactly the word she’d use to describe her…complex feelings about you. Sure, you were frustrating, irritating, and always knew how to push her buttons with an infuriating ease. 

But did she really hate you?

She shook her head. This was exactly what she couldn’t stand about you—the way you made her doubt herself, fall into chaos in her own mind. She couldn’t afford to debate what she really thought about you now. Closing her eyes briefly, she exhaled, letting her professional persona handle her next movements. This was a mission like any other. And Natasha Romanoff always succeeded in her missions.

Just as she was about to locate the judge you’d told her about, her eyes fell on three men across the dance floor, next to the snack table. There was no mistaking the way their eyes draped all over you, watching you with no shame as their mouths likely ran with sick and degrading comments about what they would do with someone like you.

A tightening feeling in her chest struck her, taking root until the infection controlled her next actions. Strengthening her grip on your waist, Natasha pressed further into you, subtly spinning your bodies so that her taller frame shielded you from predatory eyes. Noticing the change in her demeanour and the way she glared at something behind you, you tilted your head slightly but decided to not comment on it. As much as you liked to keep her on your toes, you knew when to refrain yourself. 

“I assume you got the judge’s backgrounds?” she muttered, leaning in closer, taking a page from your book. Her hand slid over your waist, caressing your side while maintaining a firm, almost possessive grip. Lost at the moment, you opened your mouth to answer, but hesitated, caught off guard by the soft, deliberate touch. You couldn’t decide whether to feel relieved that she was listening to you or startled by how her fingers seemed to burn against your covered skin.

Natasha’s eyes glinted as they dropped onto you, a flicker of satisfaction crossing her features at the rare sight of you losing your so well maintained composure. You never stuttered, always remaining a step ahead, but for once, it was you who was caught off guard. If only for a fleeting moment, Natasha couldn’t help but take the moment in, greedily absorbing your hesitation. Is this what you felt when you got under her skin?

For anybody who glared at you two, it would seem like an intimate couple, flirting and rendering each other speechless with seductive flirtation and close touch. If that's what you demanded of her, then that’s what Natasha will deliver. 

Sensing this shift, you cleared your throat and did your best to regain control. To return to your sleek persona that you always maintained. “You assume well. The first one is Ethan Cole, a dance professor on a wealthy university. Had big dreams for Hollywood, but her addiction to gambling and alcohol closed those doors for him. Owes Horvat some numbers.”

Deliberately, you moved your hand to her jaw, redirecting her face to the right, then leaned in as if you were whispering something inappropriate in her ear. “The grey-haired man, Richard Harper. A self-declared “man of the arts,” you stated dramatically. “More like a man of perversion. He owns several sex clubs, most of which don’t follow safety regulations and serve as covers for prostitution rings.” Natasha clenched her jaw ever so slightly, the feeling of it under your fingertips making you sigh in satisfaction.

“Perhaps when we’re done with this I ought to pay him a visit,” you taunted, making Natasha turn to face you with a warning glare. Before she had time to respond, you silenced her with a gentle but firm motion.

“Right behind me, just a few stools away. The woman with glasses and uptight lips. Leah Montgomery. Our biggest threat to win the competition. She was in competitive figure skating, pretty good, too. Until tragedy struck and she ruptured her ACL. Clearly, she hasn’t got over it yet as she now spends her days tormenting her pupils, “encouraging” them in partaking into illegal substances to win her titles.” 

Just as you finished, the low bass music cut off, a call for all the participants to gather on the dance floor resonating through the walls. As everyone started to move toward the centre, Natasha eventually released her grip around you. Just as you were about to tease her about the reluctance, she placed her hand on your lower back, guiding you through the crowd.

Surprised, but not wanting to reveal your true feeling, you hummed pleasantly, masking the unexpected stir in your chest. Finally reaching your spot, Natasha extended her hand to you. Her eyes look down on you, the green of her irises going a few shades of green darker. But this time, you can't find the anger. No…it was something else that you haven’t quite seen before. 

Accepting her offering, you place your hand into hers. 

This will be interesting. 

[skemford]

So far Arcane S2 is looking cool. Almost all characters are complex and it's impossible to look at them through "good vs bad" lenses.

There are certain takes from fandom/community that i don't agree with... but alas, i don't consider my opinions to be 100% correct either.

More thoughts about some characters (Cait, Vi, Isha, Sevika) in Arc 1 under the cut (beware of spoilers):

- Cait loosing herself while going through the grief is written in a realistic way. She's a privileged girl who never experienced major losses, lost an important person (a mother) and she's supposed to keep a facade of a stoic leader for the sake of her community. I felt truly uncomfortable when she decided to use the ventilation system to poison the air of Zaun & her degrading rhetoric (both toward citizens of Zaun and to Vi) was terrible. Her perspective can be understood but it cannot be redeemed with a couple of empty words. I'm curious to see where her dictatorship arc will lead her and how it ends. Honestly a lot of people underplay police brutality that was shown through her.

- Vi taking the role of enforcer was shocking to me considering everything that happened to her in the past. Gassing up her own people while wearing the uniform of her oppressor felt OOC but i can understand that she's motivated by endless grief and her fear of loosing Cait too. At least she did acknowledged that some things are wrong once she's face to face with a child protecting Jinx. Her role was more passive than in S1 so hopefully she'll shine in arc 2 and 3.

- Isha (little girl that follows Jinx) is a plot device that may die sooner or later. I'm not sure what i feel about her but i cannot hate her either, she did nothing wrong. I don't understand those who are mad about the scene where this child is protecting Jinx; Jinx unwillingly saved her life and was a bit soft while Isha saw only brutality from Vi & Cait. This is a matter of perspective, really. Outside of this, i think that some people are forgetting that she's younger than Powder was in S1.

Did she gave Jinx a couple of sympathetic points? Maybe. But Jinx herself was a bit calmer than in S1. A moment before meeting Isha she's walking around the city and reflects on what Silco's death led to.

- Sevika didn't switched her opinion on Jinx "abruptly". She was loyal to Silco and his absence made her acknowledge how much work she was forced to do for him. In her perspective Jinx was a brat who had it easier and created mess that Sevika was supposed to clean... turns out, it wasn't like this. Her "grief talk" with Jinx about Silco shows that Jinx was under the pressure too. Sevika's loyalty lies with her beliefs about what's the best for Zaun and its people and Jinx may be the hope that they'll need (which was shown in Arc 2 teaser). You can argue that she was brutal in S1 but she's not "a villain". Wanting to fight for your freedom from Topsiders is way more complicated.

On less serious note:

- Caitvi hugs and kiss were sweet. Let's hope that it'll happen again. If it's possible after everything :)

- My favourite fight is Sevika vs Smeech. I loved visuals, music and seeing Sevika getting her own screentime.

- Vi vs Jinx fight was on entirely another level in terms of animation, I'm excited to see what's in store for unreleased episodes.

[flowers-for-em]

one of my LEAST favourite things ever is when someone makes fun of the music you listen to and starts to laugh at you for it.

like jehronica just leave me alone and let me listen to whatever i want. who cares if we dont have the same taste in music?? people can like whatever they want to like.

we dont all have to listen to the same stuff. thats the beauty of music there are so many genres and sounds to be made/explored, why should we all stick to the one thing you like?

and why is it deemed "cringe" when you like a popular song? THERE IS A REASON ITS POPULAR IN THE FIRST PLACE !!!

there is no need for you to tear them down for liking a popular song artist or album. music is there for everyone to enjoy so LET THEM ENJOY IT!!!

if you have slightly different tastes thats fine, but move on! if you have similar tastes wonderful, bond over it! but never NEVER make those comments (and if you've ever been on the receiving end of these you know what i'm talking abt and i'm sorry that you had to deal with it) and remarks that makes others embarrassed to talk abt, or just play their choice of music.

just let them enjoy their music. same with you.

its music its there for your enjoyment (or sob fests whichever floats ur boat) so ENJOY IT

thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[thelov3lybookworm]

My Favourite

Day 7: AU.

Summary: just a day out at the grocery store.

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Word Count: 591

Warnings: just some domestic fluff at the supermarket hehehehe i love it sm 🥹

A/n: this is a tiny one again but it is fluffy and when i like my own fluffy fics i know its good hehehehe 😏

@lucienweekofficial

ANYWAY ENJOYYYY 🥳

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Y/n frowned, trying to find the expiry date for the bread she held in her right hand.

"Lucien? Can you see what date this expires?"

She heard him walk closer in the mostly empty isle, peering over her shoulder.

"It’s two days from now."

Y/n hummed, then set the packet back and put the one in her left hand inside the cart. "That one expires three days from now and was just made today."

"Do we need milk?"

Y/n looked at Lucien, wracking her brain as her husband went through the list on his phone.

"Uh, let’s get it. I was thinking of making some sweets with it."

Lucien met her gaze, then nodded. "I think we’ve got all of it except coriander and potatoes."

Y/n hummed, her eyes focused on the muscles in his forearms flexing as he put his phone back in his pant’s pocket, the red shirt’s sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Doing anything with her husband was automatically Y/n’s favourite thing to do, but maybe grocery shopping was the last on the list. Sure, it brought that sense of domestic love Y/n had always craved since she was a kid, but it also drew other women’s appreciation and attention to her husband.

Of course, Y/n loved it when people told her Lucien was a great guy, but seeing strangers gaze at him longingly and sometimes even hungrily made Y/n want to lock her husband at home when she needed groceries.

She herself had met him in one of these isles, a basket clasped in his hand as he picked out spice packets to put in it. And instantly she was drooling. A man grocery shopping? A very edible one at that too? Y/n wanted to bite him then and there.

Fortunately, he had made small talk and then asked her out on a date. Within months he had proposed and they had gotten married.

"I’ll go get the milk then. Meet me at counter seven?" Y/n blinked, coming out of her reverie to meet the knowing eyes of her husband as he smirked at her.

She scowled. "Yeah, fine."

He reached out to take the cart from her, knowing she wasn’t very fond of having to push the thing around. He placed his lips at her forehead, lips tilted in a smile.

"See you then, sweetheart."

He took the cart with him as Y/n hurried to grab the potatoes and coriander, not wanting to keep him waiting.

Lucien had just finished putting all their items on the belt when Y/n arrived, chest heaving from having sprinted all the way to the cashier. Lucien chuckled at her dishevelled state, tugging her to stand in front of him as he wrapped his hands around her waist gently.

Y/n did not miss the flash of disappointment in the cashier’s eyes who had been eyeing Lucien like a vulture.

Hah. He’s mine, what’s your name? Amita? Take that.

She felt Lucien press a kiss to the back of her head, and she instantly knew he’d seen the possessiveness on her face. She grinned back at him sheepishly.

Lucien only shook his head with a smile, proceeding to pay before picking up their bags.

"You want to get takeout?"

Y/n blinked up at him innocently, who knew she would never say no to food. "Where are we going?"

He laughed. "Your favourite, my love."

Y/n rose a brow. "My favourite is you."

"Your second favourite then."

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[torchwood-99]

I Went To The Torchwood Panel Today, With GDL and Kai Owen

So, to kick things off, they talked a fair bit about how Ianto and Rhys were meant to be killed off fairly early on, and that they didn't have the biggest roles to start with. Rhys was a "semi regular" character, and GDL had to audition with another character's lines because there weren't enough written for Ianto. Kai said he and Eve already knew each other because they did youth theatre together (!!!<3) And after the first read through of the first scripts, Eve came up to him and said they had to work to make the chemistry and heat believable in order to get people to fall in love with them as a couple, because the more people love Gwen and Rhys, the better chance Rhys had of getting a bigger a role and sticking around longer. Kai is very grateful to Eve for that. (my queen, my angel) Then they talked about how Ianto managed to evade the cull twice and made it to Children of Earth, and that Rhys is still alive (which GDL accused Kai of being braggy about) They also talked about how quickly Ianto rebounded from Lisa onto Jack "after all his friends shot her", and they talked about how COE was just very, very good. They were asked by a member of the audience which time period they would like to travel to. GDL said he loves armour and horses and all that, so he would pick the Middle Ages, except for the gonorrhoea and other diseases. Kai said he'd go and watch Elvis in Vegas, and to watch Live Aid. This got a big round of applause. GDL grumbled that no one clapped for "the middle ages and gonorrhoea" Then they were asked which Doctor was their favourite. GDL said it was the doctor who did surgery on one of his testicals. And Sylvester McCoy. Kai said David, which got another round of applause, so two for two for Kai. The sex gas came up a lot in discussion, so when they took a group photo and asked what we should say, GDL had us all say "Sex gas!"

[gilded-sunrays]

Hello 👋🏻 um.. I wanted to say I really like your writing style and I hope you doing well.😊 I'm quite new here, and I'm rather shy with communicating with people... I wanted to know are you accepting requests ?

If so I would you mind if I asking of scenario of yoriichi with a extremely kind hearted and affectionate fem/reader from his childhood, Who just like to care for those around her giving gifts and try to somehow make them happy.

I want to know how would he react around her? How would he confess to her? You could also make it a short headcanon I don't want to trouble you.

Oh I'm sorry if I talked already too much!!! you don't even have to answer me if you don't want to. Just Thanks for reading my nonsenses😅. I hope you have a good day and I wish for you and everyone a happy life and 😄 take care👋🏻🙏🏻

¡! ❞Confession.ᐟ

|| Pairings: Childhoodfriend!Yoriichi × Reader || 𖤐 Masterlist

▪︎Childhoodfriend!Yoriichi had always sensed a special bond with you. In a world where his own family had turned their backs on him, your presence was the only one that felt welcoming. 

▪︎Childhoodfriend!Yoriichi admired your kindness and gentle spirit, how you would go out of your way to assist strangers, share your groceries with neighbours, and do those small, thoughtful things just to bring a smile to others faces. 

▪︎And although he may not have felt worthy of all your selfless kindness, he made every effort to reciprocate it. Whether it was cooking your favourite meals when you got back, assisting you with chores, or simply tending to you a massage.. and whatnot

▪︎Childhoodfriend!Yoriichi just adored the moments spent with you, with the adorable little creatures that just seemed to gravitate towards him. You two would take some food along to feed them—bunnies, squirrels, little birds, and whatnot. With him around, they even felt calm around you.  

▪︎Childhoodfriend!Yoriichi was a man of few words, often wearing a calm expression when in company, yet he became surprisingly chatty when it was just the two of you.

▪︎While Childhoodfriend!Yoriichi still remained mostly quiet, his attentive listening made it clear that he cherished every word you shared. His face was usually stoic, with only a hint of smile passing through, but you had gotten used to reading his expressions.  

▪︎As time went on, you both had matured and grown into adults. Living together and managing a home as literal children had made you two an unstoppable team.  

▪︎Having each other by your sides, there was no task that seemed impossible—taxes (did he even pay taxes living high up in the middle of nowhere though..?) cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping, or budgeting. Over the years, it all became second nature for the two of you. 

▪︎As this bond grew, so did Childhoodfriend!Yoriichi's feelings for you. In his eyes, you were flawless, like an angel—a light that simply kept him from withering away in his life. 

—And you were the light that he vowed to protect for many years to come

"Y/n.." he began softly, as you both sat by the pond where your paths first crossed.

 "My soul has traversed far and wide to find yours.. In all the world, there is no heart for me like yours."

 He continued, lost in memories of you as he reminisced about your beautiful smile and your pleasant aura..

 "..and In all the world, there is no love for you like mine.." 

As he took his rough hand and gently cupped your cheek, leaning in closer, his breath brushed against your skin as he whispered— 

"I love you.. y/n"

|| A/N: Tysm for requesting <33, I sincerely hope you enjoy it! And nah, its not nonsense, infact-- my inbox is pretty much always open for anything, so feel free to send in whatever..lol!

[galaxythreads]

hi,

I'm fascinated by ur Loki works, and since I'm currently rereading all my favourites I wanted to ask about your general headcanons for Loki, and your opinions on all the movies and appearances Loki had. Basically, could you please talk about Loki, because i feel like my idea of Loki and your idea of Loki are similar. bye!!

"Do you want to rant at me about your favorite character?" I mean. do you want my first born?

general headcanons:

there's this scene in Loki: Where Mischief Lies where Loki has a throwaway line that talks about how it never matters when Thor hits him even if it gets violent and it rotates around in my head like a microwave all the time. Such an interesting concept that Thor took things too far but Loki never said anything because that's Just What Siblings Do TM

Loki's hair is soft to the touch, not greasy, because I will die mad about loki's hair in ragnarok

loki steals clothing. This is something you can see in all my fics, he's constantly stealing things from everyone.

Loki is ace, never had sex, and isn't interested in changing that. I don't think he's aro, I think he is interested in romantic love to some extent, but I think sex is just mid to him

loki's magic pokes at all five senses. It's something you can see, taste, hear, touch, and smell

loki got "food poisoning" a lot as a kid because his body was made for jotun stuff and like. asgard doesn't have that

Loki has a moral code, and there are lines he won't cross

loki doesn't lie that much, people just gave him the name because he's shifty and it was a rumor that was started by thor that he lies all the time

loki and thor's relationship has only gotten more complicated as they've gotten older and they have the brain chemistry to process things better, look at their childhoods and go, uh, bro, wait a minute

frigga wasn't a very good mom to loki, even though she tried

Loki can cook

loki uses magic less now that he's older, not because he's not good at it, but because he just like. he uses more subtle magic, and he doesn't need to turn his magic into a glowy show when he could just punch you in the face

loki is a man of few words

loki being captured and watching him lose his mind is straw that broke the camel's back for Gamora, who left shortly after he agreed to help thanos

loki wasn't mind controlled per se in the first avengers, the scepter was just affecting his feelings, but not more than anyone else? Loki was just genuinely tortured/coerced into this by thanos and they didn't have to force him to do anything. he was too terrified to say no. scepter was just an added bonus to cement the control

loki absolutely has permanent spinal damage from his time with thanos

I have a bazillion of these i could literally go on for ages.

---

thoughts on movies:

Uh. Okay. um. How do I say this without getting slain? I...do not think, objectively, that any of the Thor movies are good movies. I think they have fantastic concepts, and wonderful characters, and I adore poking at them, but I think one of the reasons that they're so beloved is because of their potential not because of what they are. People love thinking about what could have been and what they wished happened, because there's very little that's actually satisfyingly completed about the films.

Because the Thor movies are not...It. You kind of have to go hunting for outside material for pieces to be connected together and thor 2 has lots of issues that not even thor 1 could have dreamed of, and Thor 1 is just. A disaster, narratively. I think Thor 3 is definetly the most well put together movie, which sucks because it's the one that botched the characters beyond repair. You either have good characters and awful story or fantastic story and terrible characters with no inbetween.

Trying to talk about why I don't think the movies are good - objectively, as movies - has never ended super well for me, but yeah, i just. I don't. I don't think they're very good. I can break it down in more detail if anyone is interested, but there seems to exist two opinions on tumblr: you either think thor 1 - tdw is an untouchable master piece or you don't and there's nothing good to say about them at all.

I have endless praise to give the movies, but that doesn't mean I don't have criticisms, because, good lord, they suck in some places. Loki's character arc is the most baffling mishandle of a character that I have ever witnessed, and yes, I mean this from the get go. Connecting thor 1 - thor 2 takes some mental math.

Thor 1: Interesting set-up for Loki's character, I like how careful they are with setting him up to make sure that his arc was clear and the line between victim and villain was really blurred. They did a good job on making him sympathetic, and revealing an interesting concept with him and Thor, even if I don't think it was executed as well as I wanted.

Avengers 1: adore poking at Loki and Thanos's relationship here. I cannot get enough of it. I like writing with the avengers mostly because of all that didn't happen in the movie that I wished had. There's so many narrative secrets that don't get addressed or glossed over and I just want it picked apart

Thor 2: i enjoy seeing Loki and Thor working together, Loki's deteriorating mental stay in prison is always fascinating, and generally tdw is my favorite movie and portrayal of loki. It's what I usually base all my fics off of is how he acts in this movie. 10/10, will sing praises

thor 3: my loathing for this movie has shriveled considerably since i saw it the first time, but i'd still be hardpressed to say i liked anything they did with loki's character. Loki is self-sabatoging constantly, and his character makes no sense whatsoever. he is the village idiot, and like, i'm not really into that.

Infinity War: Honestly, i'm just gonna say it - i really did like what they did with loki in this movie. Like yeah, I wanted him to help and be an important part of the story, yeah, of course, but I also appreciate from a writing perspective what a powerful move killing him off before the credits was. Loki was the Big Bad of the first avengers and murdering him set the stakes amazingly. It carried Thor's entire arc, and it felt like a shroud that was layered over the movie. I know a lot of people didn't like it, but I appreciated what they did with it, and I like the tragedy.

---

Appearance:

not a single scene in ragnarok with him it it did not make me want to chew off my foot, his character design was awful. I will never understand why everyone was drooling over the black suit, it looked like it was bought from walmart and then the wrinkles smoothed out with a flat iron. His hair is greasy af for no reason, all of his clothing looks cheap and ugly. there's nothing impressive or visually interesting about him. the choice to remove his colors so hela can take them will never not be annoying to me even though hela is my baby child

thor 1 has the best hair, in my opinion, but he also looks stupid as hell in his armor. loki's design, to me, works best when it has long lines and it's flowy and/or soft. visually nice:

and like the reason it's visually nice is because it's soft and doesn't make me notice tom hiddleston's hips. The moment i'm aware of his hips i get irritated as hell about it, because idk man, loki just. he does not look good when you're aware he has hips. tom hiddleston is like fine, somehow? i don't know why it doesn't bother me when he's wearing whatever he wants to - i also just like. do not care - but with loki i'm just like. oh good LORD stop making me aware of your hips.

It's why i can't stand his ragnarok suit but would sing praises over the thor 1 one.

It's something that's just like. confounded me forever, because i don't even know why it bugs me so much, but every time i see his TVA outfit, thor 1 armor, or that stupid ragnarok suit i want to shoot a canon ball into the sun.

Give the man a suit coat or do not put him in a jacket. loki has lots of skills but pulling off a jacket is not one of them.

He needs to look haunted, like, in general. Or like an 18th century tired man. it's integral for his character to me.

things that make galaxy happy:

loki soft hair

loki having suit coat or suit coat equivalent

things that will send her into a ranting, unwanted, nitpicky rage

loki greasy hair

loki dressed in jackets

[soft5ku11]

Hey so I'm also an artist and a gainer and I was wandering do u have any tips on drawing fat men

Well, it's all about shapes - at least to me. Keep the shapes connected in the right way, with the right volume, and heaviness. That's what I try to focus on. Fat goes over the top of regular anatomy, so learning how that works first can really help.

What I did was just draw whatever and I learned as I drew more of it. It's all about trial and error, learning and evolving and recognising what you want to improve, rather than being discouraged by "this looks bad". Don't compare yourself to others, only yourself.

But, as with anything to do with art, collect inspiration, collect a huge amount of references. Print out your favourite artworks from other artists, smack 'em through a holepunch and keep em together with a treasury tag. Never be afraid to use yourself for a reference picture either. If you cant find something, just save the time instead of mindlessly scrolling image results on your search engine of choice. Especially since you're a gainer, you can use your own body to study how any niche angle or pose might look with your body type.

To add onto this, of course it'll vary from style to style but exaggerate your shapes, (coming back to the shapes thing) for example, I'll use this artwork of my DND guy that I recently did:

See how the shapes of certain parts aren't necessarily more muscled or fatter? The feet and hands for instance, they look better and read clearer if you exaggerate them a bit, and I already set the hands and feet on the 3D reference model I used to almost maximum. You can do this with heads to an extent as well, but it could make the character's proportions feel off. That part is a balancing act and you can find basic proportion guides for the body online to help with that. But - the thickness of the arms and legs and even the neck pulls the figure further from realistic proportions and more into a cartoony illustrative look. I could go on for ages about this but that's the basic gist of it.

One thing I think is exceptionally under-represented in art advice that I've seen in my time is DON'T UNDERESTIMATE THE POWER OF HAVING ARTIST FRIENDS! Learn from each other, talk about stuff, gather and share resources amongst yourselves, etc etc. You learn more when in groups, that's why school isn't one-on-one.

These are just some tips off the top of my head, there's always more out there and I'm sure one of these things won't work for you and others will, but make the leap like you've done here and ask other artists too. Lots of people would be willing to give some advice to help you get going, and you asking will also benefit others who might be too shy to ask so even if you don't take my advice, you can be happy that you've pulled it out of me for others to see at least XD

[pekoposting]

This is interesting! Particularly because it's a departure from the usual conclusions that hardcore Pekoyama fans usually make from this evidence. Which is...

Peko's biological parents are the Pekoyama clan

The typical interpretation goes something like this:

The Pekoyama clan is a band of renowned swordfighters. For whatever reason, they get in massive debt to the Kuzuryuu clan. The Kuzuryuu clan force them to repay these debts by taking their young heir, and training her to be a bodyguard for their own heir when he is born. We know the rest of the story.

The evidence for this is as follows (though keep in mind, I did not consider your interpretation when I was formulating this, so the evidence seemed more self-evident originally):

Pekoyama's name in the Japanese is spelt 辺古山 ペコ. Her family name, (辺古山) is spelt normally, in kanji. However, her first name is spelt in katakana, which as far as I can tell is the only of the three Japanese scripts not used to write Japanese names. Also it's literally just the first two phonetic sounds of her surname. Which gives the impression that her surname is real, and her first name is something carelessly made up on the fly because you have to call her something.

The fact that she has a family heirloom. Why would the Kuzuryuu clan know the family of an orphaned baby? As far as I know, people in Japan don't usually attach their family name when they're orphaning a child.

...Yeah, it was primarily based on the premise that out of the two contradictory pieces of information we get about Pekoyama's parents, the one at the end of Chapter 2 (that she was abandoned by them from birth) is the correct one.

Of course... there are still issues with this interpretation. Primarily, that Island Mode dialogue where she says she has memories of her parents being alive. The heirloom is a bit iffy, too. (Perhaps it's something the Kuzuryuu clan also took along with Pekoyama?)

The only excuse I can come up for the parents thing is that it is Pekoyama deliberately lying to make her childhood sound more normal. Because the closer she gets to telling the truth, the more questions Hinata will have, and she doesn't want that. That's not the point she's trying to convey anyways, so she goes with a simple lie to smooth it over so she can talk about her memories

There are issues with your interpretation too, namely that the Kuzuryuu clan risks giving Pekoyama an alternative motive through giving her actual parents, i.e. humanising her and possibly making her consider if there's other ways she can live. As we both know, Pekoyama's Island Mode ending implies that she is only so dedicated to her tool mindset because it's the only way she knows how to live.

Whilst I probably will come around to yours more as I let it sink into my brain, I'm going to be honest, I am still quite attached to the 'Pekoyama was stolen from the Pekoyama clan' interpretation, because I've spent a lot of time thinking about it, and because those hardcore Pekoyama fans have also written about it.

One of my absolute favourite implementations of it is at the end of thewildwilds' already incredible fic [absolute zero.] where it's mentioned that upon taking baby Pekoyama, her parents cursed the Kuzuryuu clan by swearing that their child would ultimately cause the destruction of the clan. That's SO DELICIOUS

As you know, I am very much a fic writer. So much so that my opinion on ships is often determined by easy/fun they are to write. And there is a lot of potential things to explore in this interpretation that I've barely ever seen anyone cover beyond 100 word drabbles.

For example... this means that Pekoyama is the only former RoD who could still have their parents alive. So... how would she cope with that? (I have some answers to that, but they're not precise, and this is getting long enough already.) NO ONE HAS EXPLORED HOW SHE'D INTERACT WITH HER BIO PARENTS AT ALL SOB. I may have to get over my natural reluctance to make OCs for this...

(This still could be explored under your interpretation, it's just that it's harder to pinpoint who her bio parents are, and those parents are less defined.)

In conclusion: what the hell even was this (MY POST NOT YOURS). There are several points I almost certainly forgot. Pekoytama.

Random tidbits about the Pekoyama Dojo

Peko was adopted by the Pekoyama Dojo

Peko reminiscence about her parents taking her to an old amusement park.

Because Peko was abandoned as a baby by her birth parents, it can be deduced all her memories regarding her parents is with her adoptive parents.

The only time she feels like smiling outside her Free Time Event, is when she is at an amusement park.

Because Peko was given the Pekoyama's family heirloom, and the obvious fact she bares the family name, you can infer that Peko's adoptive parents was from the Pekoyama Dojo on the Kuzuryus behalf.

Peko states that her dojo is not exactly a Kendo dojo. The fact that their family heirloom bears the symbol of the Kuzuryu clan mascot, the Pekoyamas were mostly likely a vassel family who served the Kuzuryus (I think the Japanese term is Kashin but don't quote me on that)

Peko's experiences at the Dojo

Just because it would be too much to screenshot, it's strongly implied that everything she did was a form of training. Peko can't take an activity at face value and see everything as a form of training. Examples include: Splitting watermelons, dropping coconuts, watching movies, going into haunted houses.

You could make the argument, because Peko was a 'tool', this was the justification to allow Peko to do normal activities.

Overall, Peko recalls only nice things about the dojo

As always, shout out to Peko's pet finch that probably hated her

Not canon in the slightest, but a moment from the manga

Mentions of Peko's childhood that may or may not be related to the dojo

[friendintheforest]

sometimes i want to be your friend

Sometimes it's possible

Just sometimes though, careful with the timing