#..okay so there IS something more recent but it's completely unrelated. I will admit this is partially just

[gynaephora]

Can people pleaseeeeeee actually use my it/its. Hello. Hi. It/its is the very first pronoun listed anywhere I mention my pronouns and I've stated that I'm "alright" with they/them but actively use it/its. You would not believe the percentage of people who have never once used it/its for me. Could you guess. Yes I actually pay attention to what people call me. I'd be lucky if 1 in 10 people used the it/its. This is based on what I've actually seen in action. It's almost like people maybe don't respect it/its users. Just a thought! I am this close to taking away the they/them from you people entirely.

[kentomilk]

ᴺᴬᴺᴬᴹᴵ ᴷᴱᴺᵀᴼ ᴵᴺ

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐈𝐓'𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

it seems there is never an activity too lackluster or intimate for this couple to find pleasure in each other's company with their busy lives.

husband!nanami kento x wife fem!reader.

catalogue. fluff, slice of life content, non-sorcery au/ non-curse, modern au, salaryman!kento, sick & soft kento, (1) mentions of praise kink. wc: 1.95k thea’s preamble. inspired by this incredible art, i must admit i look at this at least once a day. → ✨ also this is my first published work, it's a bit rough but hopefully with time it gets better. thank u for reading <3

kento is a man of routine and order, we all knew that. he wakes up at a set time, kisses his beautiful sleeping wife, carries out his morning routine of showering and oral hygiene, dons his best suit, light breakfast, and is out the door by 8 AM. the evenings he returns home aren’t any less lax, whether he’s home at 6 PM on the dot or late by a few hours, he’ll always greet and kiss his beautiful wife, have dinner in his study whilst he continues more work while the lovely missus reads on the chaise or continues unfinished work of her own as well, then shower and oral hygiene, sleep. 

perhaps that was an oversimplification, but don’t be fooled one may think the man adopts and follows this lifestyle out of a need for security, financial or otherwise. or that he loves the unrelenting and perpetual cycle of working painstakingly 10-hour days, he certainly isn’t given highly-coveted tasks for being a slacker. he’s grateful for what the occupation provides, the salary and bonus that come with his overtime, to lavishly spoil his family, but that's all.

he has no ambition to climb the ladders that will put him in places he doesn't care to be, to rub elbows and kiss ass with scummy executives, leeches, and conceited thugs, only to trash talk and scheme against the moment he steps foot in his home.

all he asks is for saturdays and sundays, as they happen to be Kento’s favourite.

the days he has off from his draining 9-to-5, to be spent properly with his lovely wife. who was ever so patient with him, ever so supportive, and ever so his to love and cherish so as long as his body would allow him. even if his body was battered down to a pulp, he’d find alternatives as necessary, but let’s hope it never comes to that.

there would be times when not much would differ from the previous weekend, and well into the next, spent doing the same activities, or nothing at all. he never wanted to take for granted the time you spent together, and sometimes that meant not always making the most of those days, and he’s okay with that.

whether the two of you lazed in bed until the afternoon or spent a whole day cooking a feast completely from scratch, starters to dessert. visiting the farmers market to cook said feast, reading in your cozy home library, or even the sudden bouts of spring cleaning. 

there is always a welcome invite for spontaneity, a picnic under the stupendous aspen tree you simply adored at the local park. a quick overnight trip to a scenic and quaint town, whether your destination is reached by train, plane, automobile, or even boat. the occasional painting date has become a more frequent activity as of late. but there is one “special” activity that some might consider, unique. one that is relatively low cost, that is done from the comforts of your humble abode, that further advances the intimacy (according to kento), and is reserved solely for you, one that kento absolutely adored, shaving. 

usually, it was something he’d done alone after showers with either a rechargeable or disposable razor or by his barber when it came time for his bi-monthly hair trim. but recently it became a task that you’d undertake by kento’s request, sort of.

while you didn’t mind what would grow from a days of not shaving, he preferred maintaining a clean shave for the clean-cut classification for a man of his occupation, it also became supplemental to his hygiene routine that he grew to love.

it wasn’t something you saw often, kento so dishevelled with the most tragic undereye bags from the lack of sleep from what you’d think was months suffering from insomnia, condensed into a few days. a coarse stubble emerged from the days he’d spent in bed, and his nose was flushed with how often he’d been blowing it with the nearly empty box of tissues that was full just the night before. his eyes were dull and watering, a sight you truly hated. 

"honey, have you seen my hard drive?" he'd sorely asked for the 3rd time today, "it's in the laptop, kento." you called back, changing the towels in your bathroom.

he was delirious, with a runny nose and little to no comprehension of where he was or what day it was, thanks to the combination of flu medicine and kento’s determination to finish a work proposal whilst in bed, common sense would also call it overworking. despite your gentle commands that he needed rest, there was no triumph on your end, as duty calls. he was relentless, in his defense there was a conference that was meant to be held in person had it not been for his sudden ailment. though a live video conference was able to be arranged, owing to the urgency of the matter at hand. 

so you figured the fastest way to get the man back into bed was to help him complete this ordeal swiftly, that meant helping him in the shower, given his sore muscle ached. applying small dots of concealer under his eyes as to not bring attention to his fatigued face, deterring from the presentation at hand.

dressing him in his warmest wool suit, but only the upper half, kento was sound enough to know there was no need to abandon his fleecy Pompompurin pajama pants. the executives were only to see from the shoulders up after all. and lastly ridding him of a heavy five o'clock shadow that was speckled with smears of dried rice from the porridge you had made him earlier. 

“ok, that should be enough,” you whispered, carefully taking off the damp towel that no longer retained warmth, and squeezing out the shaving cream from the canister into your hand.

you proceed to spread the milky foam in a thin layer across the lower half of his face, letting out a soft chuckle at the finished outcome. you picked up the brand-new razor from the counter, puffing your cheeks and letting out a deep breath.

“i trust you.” kento whispered, his voice scratchy and hushed. 

you smiled in response, quietly informing him that you were starting. you crouched to his eye level, pulling his cheek upward with one hand, so the skin where you would shave would be taut. you intently watched his face as well as the area that you had just removed facial hair, making sure that there were no nicks or alter in his relaxed expression, verging on sleep. once you gained confirmation of such, you proceeded to shave the next row, and the next, working inwards towards his lips. 

rinsing the razor after each use, and wiping on a towel you had draped on the counter. though nerve-wracking for a first try, it had been executed well and was quite therapeutic. your eyes were attentive and your hands steady with every down stroke. as you continued to rinse and repeat, literally, you looked up into the bathroom mirror to see your husband rotating his head to view the work that had been done, then looking straight at you with a simple grin and tired eyes, asking what he thought so far.

“you’re doing so good, my love.” he plainly states, but those watery eyes said otherwise with an innuendo you couldn’t miss, in a singular eyebrow raise. stupid praise kink, you thought, looking him up and down, wondering how even in this state, where he acquired the audacity. it wasn’t long until the two of you burst into a fit of laughter, kento being cautious as to not rub off the shaving cream with one hand that covered his eyes as he leaned back in the chair. 

“what even are you.” you snickered, quickly calming yourself with the reminder of the razor in your hand.

you proceeded to shave, on the brink of completion, now focusing above his lip, where you took even more caution than you had before, due to the sensitivity of his skin in that area. opting to sit on his lap, nearly chest-to-chest with his sore arms that maintained enough strength to have a secure hold on you, even though your knees were bent, and your feet touched the heated floor effortlessly. 

a few stolen kisses on kento’s behalf, and nothing more than a restrained smile that he was fighting from getting any bigger as you finished the last few strokes. in his mind, it was anticipated that the minute kento finally got better, you were going to contract what he had afterward anyway. and in turn, he’d take care of you. 

so what's the harm in a few more kisses?

“so my dear husband, how would you like to start our weekend?” you asked, still cozily tucked under the blankets, looking at your husband who was similarly bundled under the toasty blankets, with your hand situated on top of his, placed gently on your cheek.

“well dear wife, it’s been days since i’ve last shaved.” he simpered, looking down at you with sly eyes.

it was something the both of you saw coming, once again he hadn’t been shaving for a while, but of course, it was deliberate. you softly laugh in response with your voice still heavy in slumber, “i’ll go get the facial steamer— in a few minutes, i want to savor every second of this vacation.” further burrowing yourself into his chest.

it had been a few months since the first time you had to shave kento’s while he was recovering, the proposal went flawlessly if you omit the booming sneezes that startled the executives even through the screen.

you had since made the switch to a straight blade like the ones you’d see used in old school barber shops, watching tutorials on methods exercised by professionals for efficiency and safety. 

invested in a proper kit that supplied everything you’d need. from shave oil, pre-shave oil, shave cream, a velvety brush to spread the lather, after-shave (which smelled phenomenal), and blade replacements.

it’s been even longer since his barber last gave him a proper shave after a haircut, and that time will only continue to be prolonged. he loved how close you’d be when focusing, but time after time you’d only grown to relax the tension in your muscles. you’d sit on his lap for more of the session, and those sessions would only go longer from the last.

where there would be conversation taking place about your lives, now and the future. sometimes there would be easy-listening music playing from the speakers that would lay the cornerstones of an “impromptu” dancing session, where kento’s hands would be politely placed on your lower back, and his hand strong in yours, waltzing all around your bathroom for what felt like forever.

he was shirtless, and truth be told a little chilly, and you were wearing an old shirt of his, to him you always looked beautiful. even though there was still plenty of shaving cream on his face, it would eventually be smeared on yours. there wasn’t much more he wanted in life.

if you ask him, any weekend is well-spent, even if you do spend the entirety of it in bed, painting beautiful sceneries, cooking your favourite dishes, dancing with ardour despite having taken one class on ballroom waltz, or you shaving his grown-out stubble. as long as you're by his side, nothing is ever a waste of time. that’s how it’s been, that’s how is it, and that’s how it’ll be.

and who knows, maybe next time kento will convince you to cut his hair.

[interactions] reblogs, comments & likes are appreciated ₊˚⊹♡

[ark-fork]

💌Love letters; 👨‍🌾content farm

Recently, a situation happened to my blogger friend that really pissed me off. It took me some time to put my thoughts in order and think about what I wanted to convey in this "podcast".

(Yes, this column is back because you, beloved and dear anons and not only, are constantly doing something crazy)

To begin with, let's start with something less complicated and scary but just unpleasant.

🔴Declarations of love to bloggers \ flirting with them.

Okay, I think this already sounds crazy, for the simple reason that you confess your love to a media personality in their inbox.

To begin with, this is not just strange - but also rude to some extent because a blogger does not always want such attention to themself. Many of them already have their soulmate in life, which is why most declarations of love or flirting are considered ignorance and an unpleasant event.

But still, the prevailing part of them may simply not be looking for a relationship here. Therefore, the best solution would be NOT to TRY to impose your feelings on them and not talk about it.

(Considering that some of you actually write something like: "Haha, I'm obviously going to regret this decision later, but I'll do it anyway because I want to").

If you like this blogger and personality, keep your flirting and declarations of love to yourself. You will spoil your relationship with them in this way. It's stupid and embarrassing for both of you if you still admit your feelings to him. Damn it, there may be a hundred, a hundred, or more of you who want to confess to them!

Ahem, I hope the general point can be grasped because I'm not so good at talking about anything and simply expressing my feelings about the situation as a whole and, for the most part, being hot on the head.

🟠Accusing someone of making low-grade content.

This particular situation infuriated me the most.

Now, I want to talk about what "content farm" is and what they are eaten with.

To begin with, the content farms are YouTube channels that strive for more views on this site and get to the recommendation pages for your kids. These are common unflattering animated videos with questionable context contained in them.

Their distinctive feature is repeated stock images of characters, stolen pictures, and designs, interweaving characters from completely unrelated works with the one based on which they make their videos.

Well, I hope this brief description of what content farms are is enough.

I don't understand people who see the obvious, admiration for the author of any show and create their content with care and soul, investing ideas and efforts, and accuse them of being one of these pathetic bastards from YouTube who absolutely don't give a fuck what they release on the platform, caring only about views and clickbait.

Before you write insults to the author in the anonymous mode in their inbox, think a little, damn it. Just think how much you insult a person who is burning with their art and ideas by saying such words to them while under the guise of anonymity, a fucking coward.

[namor-shuri]

Did you see that recent post about your page? Antis are so funny 😭

I’m crying because after I posted that meme post yesterday, I was scrolling through the Nashuri tag and then saw it 🥴 I literally made a dumb meme joking about Antis saying we need to be locked up, and didn’t realize someone literally said that hours prior. It doesn’t get better than that rofl. What’s sending me was their initial outrage of Nashuri [which babe, have you been living under a rock?], then the assumption that I romantically ship Tenoch & Tish from a quick bio glance, THEN after all of the “horror” and “shock”, they proceed to not block me. You’re telling me you posted screenshots of you blocking my page to ultimately not…..block……me? Righhhhhhhttttttt *rubs temples*

- - - - - - - - o o O o o - - - - - - - -

I literally don’t owe anyone this BUT this is for the folks that are new to my blog/Nashuri fandom/etc:

#1. Hey 💜 This is BOTH a Nashuri [Namor x Shuri] blog AND Tenoch Huerta + Letitia Wright appreciation blog. What does that mean? It means my blog is about anything related to A. Tenoch Huerta + his life/roles etc B. Letitia Wright + her life/roles etc and C. Their adorable dynamic together. It’s a hodgepodge of random stuff. One big ice cream shop where you can pick your flavor of choice. So Nashuri shippers interact with me, Namor fans, Shuri fans , Letitia, Tenoch and so on. You get the idea. I love how open-ended my page is and that’s why I made it that way in the first place. Everyone is welcome here and can walk away with a little bit of something. For being such a miscellaneous page, I would say the only “agenda” I push is Nashuri [it’s in my name]. The rest of my content is up to your own personal interpretation/assumptions. What you think I’m pushing or trying to say is all your take and your take alone, beloved. It has nothing to do with me.

#2. I admit that my mouth has gotten me in a little bit of trouble over the years lol. I was literally that little kid that came back with a report card with straight A’s that had a teacher’s note on the side saying “Talks too much in class”. I think and say shit ALL. THE. TIME rofl Yes, I sprinkle in deep rants and knowledgeable takes on my blog but I made this page to be a menace. I’m only here to be entertained. A majority of my page are jokes and tomfoolery. The complete opposite of “be for real”. How can I be when I’m literally shipping a fictional fish stick and a fictional woman in a cat suit?? 🤣 I’ve spoken about it before but I’m also an artist [my professional work is 1000% unrelated to this page/content lol] so alot of my page is also random graphics and stuff like that too. I love making y’all and myself laugh and it’s been enjoyable af interacting with you, especially the Nashuri fandom. Y’all are straight up comedians and say the funniest shit, which then makes me want to say even more wild shit and then it becomes a snowball effect lol. Thankfully I can tell a majority of you who do follow/interact with me are grown so you’ve picked up by now that most of my blog is A BIT. But unfortunately there’s always going to be a sprinkle of people who are clearly young, new here or just folks that don’t get my sense of humor whatsoever. And whichever category you fall under it’s okay, but babes there are a lot of 18+ jokes/comments on my page so if you are someone that is underage and or gets easily offended, please do yourself a favor and stay clear. I mean that in the nicest way possible.

#3. I wrote this on a reblog to someone’s post recently but I have a large portion of blogs blocked on the tags that I follow on here. Life has been ✨𝒷𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓈𝒻𝓊𝓁✨ ever since and it only takes .2 seconds out of your day to do it. So when I don’t see people utilize the block button, I just know their not being fr and are clearly bored. If you don’t like my content, block/mute me. Simple as that. Because chances are, I’ve probably already blocked you by now. And to the people I haven’t, I either A. enjoy/interact with the content you make or B. don’t care for it but you usually stay out of my lane and I stay out of yours so we just coexist. It’s that black and white. You don’t have to like what someone posts but what isn’t cool is bothering/targeting someone on an app strictly because of that. What are you five? This feels like a lesson we learned in elementary school. It’s not rocket science and it’s never that serious. The world does not revolve around you nor adhere to things only you deem okay. It’s much bigger than that. Get a grip, go drink some water, eat something and make sure to touch some grass today while you’re at it.

- - - - - - - - o o O o o - - - - - - - -

Shout out to that page tho! I literally gained new followers after that, so…..thank you? 😅 What a time to be alive. But for real, ya’ll have been coming out of nowhere to support and it’s been super dope. I really appreciate all the love, especially for being such a new page. I’m looking forward to future shenanigans, continuing the fun and not taking shit too seriously per usual. Live your best life, folks. Don’t let anyone rain on your parade. Life is WAY too short for that.

Ps: To my new followers, check out the post pinned to my page here. It’s a great “intro” into the Nashuri fandom and or actors Tenoch Huerta / Letitia Wright. Some things might be a little old but it’s pretty useful for the most part. My old poll results post gives you a slight idea of me as well. See y’all around ✌🏾💗

[snippy-tano]

Hello! I hope you're having an amazing day! If possible, could I request tiny hands in big hands from the touches ask game with Rex?

Wowowowowowow this was so much fun to write. I actually had this idea with something that was totally and completely unrelated. but then I had an epiphany at like 2am last night that it would fit this ask exactly and I had to write it asap. It’s just so fluffy and cute and ack I want it. 

I hope you enjoy it anon! Let me know what you think!

Masterlist is here!

Taglist is here!

Tagging: @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life @marvel-starwars-nerd @mackstrut @dissapointingpancake @ahsokatano-thetogruta @welcometothepedroverse @lightning-wolffe @fractiouskat @mandaloriandin @lussyyung @lowkeyodinsong @str-wrs-fics @bantha-shit @badbatch-simp24 @katelynnwrites @s1st3r @leotatombs @torchbearerkyle @luna-schaf @oh-delphinia @dominhoe-squad @kaermorons @leotatombs

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

Code

It was the middle of the night and you were still working. 

Which really wasn’t out of the ordinary, all things considered. You were used to late nights and early mornings, today wasn’t any different. You’d been up since the crack of dawn and it was nearing the middle of the night. You were positive you had bags under your eyes, but there really wasn’t any helping your situation. 

It was the nature of working with the GAR. 

And at this point, you didn’t even think anything of it anymore. It was just part of the job.

Which is why walking through the halls around 2am didn’t feel weird. And it didn’t feel out of the ordinary when Echo jogged up to you and matched your pace after calling your name. 

“How goes it, Echo?” You asked, closing your data pad you had been typing on to give the ARC trooper your full attention. He shrugged, making his armor clink together.

“I’m still standing. Why are you still up? Isn’t your shift over?” He asked, gesturing to your more relaxed clothing. 

It was your turn to shrug. “I have a lot to get done before the morning, so I thought I might as well be comfortable while doing it.”

Echo nodded once before clearing his throat. “Have you seen Captain Rex lately?”

You couldn’t help the clenching of your heart when he said Rex’s name. It was an involuntary response you had only recently began noticing. It took far too long (and a few conversations with friends back on Coruscant) before you realized your warm feelings towards the Captain may be a little more than just “friendship feelings.”

It had been a surprise, but one that only made more and more sense as time continued on. 

You’d done a good job keeping it under wraps, but knowing you, it was only a matter of time before someone caught on, especially considering how much time you spent with the men aboard this ship.

“Not recently, why? Is he okay?” You asked, turning to look at Echo who sighed.

“No one has seen him since dinner. He was heading towards his office and I’m not even sure if he had dinner or not.” Echo admitted and you furrowed your eyebrows.

“I’ll find him. You don’t have to worry about it.” You said and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thanks, I don’t really have time to track him down. I would, don’t get me wrong, I’d love nothing more, but I can’t leave Fives alone with the shinys.” Echo replied and you laughed.

“Definitely don’t want that. Don’t worry Echo, I’ll find him.”

Echo gave you a pat on your arm before bidding goodbye and jogging away towards the barracks. You hesitated before heading for the mess hall. Echo had mentioned he wasn’t sure if Rex had eaten or not. Even if he had, if he was planning on pulling an all-nighter, he’d get hungry at some point so food wouldn’t be amiss. 

The short detour didn’t take long and before you knew it, you were standing outside of Rex’s “office.”

It technically was an unused supply closet, but a few months ago, you and some of the men had repurposed it so that Rex could use it as an office. He may only be a Captain, but with all of his responsibilities, he needed a space where he wouldn’t be bothered by the men. And you and the men had been more than happy to help him with that.

The room was still registered as a storage room, but you were pretty sure General Skywalker knew it had been renovated for Rex. And you were pretty sure he didn’t care one bit. 

You looked both directions before punching in the new code.

Rex kept changing the code every time one of the men cracked it. The space was a way to get away from his brothers so that he could work. It made it pretty hard to do that when they kept barging in. 

Hence why Rex kept changing it. 

You and him were the only ones who knew it at the moment. It wouldn’t take long before they cracked it again, but you were going to make sure it wasn’t you who revealed it to the men.

You had been surprised when Rex had given you the code right after he changed it for the first time about a month ago. You hadn’t realized you two had grown close enough that he’d trust you with that information. You supposed the many late nights working and getting to know each other must have helped. All those times you brought him food and just worried about him must have meant something to him too. Despite all of that, you had still been honored that he trusted you enough to give you and only you the code that you had done your absolute best to make sure the code didn’t fall into the wrong hands. 

Namely Fives.

The door opened softly and you carefully slid inside, letting the door shut behind you. Rex was hunched over his desk, seemingly fast asleep with his datapad on in front of him. 

You let out a soft sigh before carefully stepping further inside. 

The room itself was a mess of different furniture you’d managed to scramble together on your short stints back on Coruscant. There was a desk, a cabinet, a lamp, a small couch, and even a mini hydrator. That had been tricky to sneak onboard, taking nearly all of Torrent company to pull off. 

But you had succeeded and the place felt more homey. 

You quietly opened the hydrator and slid the food you had gotten for Rex inside, that way he’d have it when he woke up. You dimmed the lights and grabbed the small throw blanket that was draped across the back of the couch for days when Rex (or anyone else, you included) decided to take a nap. 

You moved slowly, tiptoeing closer to Rex, biting on your lip to try and remain as quiet as possible. There was a small piece of flimsy on his desk and you quickly scribbled out a note about the food in the fridge for him, signing your name at the bottom. You placed it where he’d see it the moment he lifted his head.

When you finished, you gently unraveled the blanket and placed it over his shoulders. He had the hindsight to remove most of the pieces of his armor when he had sat down, so you at least knew he was comfortable. He stirred slightly when the blanket made contact with his broad shoulders, causing you to hold your breath.

But he didn’t wake. You waited a few more seconds before covering him more fully, taking a moment to look at his sleeping face. 

Rex looked so much more peaceful when he was sleeping. He looked relax and so so young.

It made you wish he had a chance to live a life he wanted to live, one where he wasn’t a soldier.

But fate had other plans. 

You let out a soft sigh, giving him one last look before turning to leave and give Rex the chance to rest without anyone disturbing him.

Your heart leapt into your throat when you felt a hand tighten around your wrist. 

You let out a strangled noise of surprise, spinning and finding yourself staring at familiar golden eyes. 

Uh oh. He’s awake. 

You were so startled that you completely froze, an apology on the tip of your tongue. 

Rex continued to stare at you and you could feel your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. His eyes slipped from yours to your wrist in his hand and then to the note you had scribbled for him. You so badly wanted to know what he was thinking, but the words just wouldn’t come. 

His gaze flipped back to you and it was like a dam broke.

“I’m so sorry! Echo was worried and I wanted to make sure you got something to eat and when I got here you were sleeping and I didn’t want to wake you up so I left a note and you looked cold so I got the blanket. I didn’t mean to wake you! Please forgive-”

“-you came here because Echo was worried?” Rex said, his voice a little raw since he had just woken up. Or at least had woken up at some point when you came into the room, you still weren’t sure when exactly he came back to consciousness. 

Frankly you didn’t want to know.

“I was worried too. I hadn’t seen you since yesterday’s meeting and I know you sometimes forget to eat so I wanted to make sure you did or that you got some rest before tomorrow.” You again word vomited and wanted more than anything for the ground below your feet to open up and swallow you whole. 

Rex paused for a moment and you took a shaky breath. 

His thumb brushed against your now exposed wrist and you fought back against the hitch in your breath at the contact, seemingly now noticing that he wasn’t wearing his gloves. Your heart continued to pound and you prayed to the Maker that he couldn’t feel it. His calloused hands slid from your wrist to grip your hand.

Tingles shot straight up your arm and you really were holding your breath now, eyes unable to look away as his rough hand completely engulfed yours. He was staring at your now joined hands, seemingly marveling at how much larger his hand was than yours. 

Maker, this has to be a dream. I’m dreaming. But I’m not sure I want to wake up. Kriff my hands are so clammy.

You thought, wincing at the thought of Rex being grossed out by your now sweaty hands. But he didn’t seem to be flinching away, which was probably the most unnerving thing about this situation. 

He tugged on your hand and you had been so wrapped up in your thoughts that you jerked forward, your free hand reaching for purchase on his shoulder as your legs came into contact with hard plastoid. 

Wait. Hard plastoid? That means - 

Oh.

You froze again. Your eyes were trained on Rex’s this time only inches away and so much closer than they ever had been. 

Kriff, his eyes are so pretty.

“Thank you.” He huffed, startling you again. “For looking out for me.”

“No problem.” You squeaked, voice higher than it ever had been. Your face felt like it was on fire and you weren’t sure if you wanted to stay in this exact position until the day you died or if you wanted to run for the escape pods and eject yourself into space. 

Rex lifted his free hand and brushed a stray piece of hair off of your face, but instead of taking it away after, he let his hand cup your cheek.

Maker, this has to be a dream. There’s no way this is real.

Rex let out a low chuckle. “It feels like a dream to me too.”

Your eyes widened. Ah kriff.

He didn’t seem to mind your current situation and frankly you were too shocked to be horrified at how things were playing out. Rex smiled softly at you, brushing a thumb under your eye. 

The next thing you knew, he was kissing you. 

It was embarrassing how quickly you sighed against him and absolutely melted. But Rex took that all in stride and let go of your hand to wrap his arm around you and tug you closer. 

This is a dream. This is a dream. This is a dream.

You repeated like a mantra in your head, refusing to believe this was happening. But then Rex tilted his head, lips moving more incessantly against yours and all coherent thoughts flew out the window.

The rest of the world faded away until all that was left was you and him.

And you honestly wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Rex pulled away and you felt yourself chasing after him as he chuckled softly. His forehead pressed against yours and you took a few deep breaths before opening your eyes to find him already looking at you.

“I’m glad I gave you that code.” He breathed and you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled past your lips. 

“I am too.” You whispered and Rex smiled broadly at you.

“I hope you know I plan on taking full advantage of it from now on.” He said and you felt your cheeks burn as you sputtered. He smirked before leaning in again to capture your lips once more. All argument left you in an instant and you pressed yourself closer, causing him to groan and his hands to fist in the back of your shirt.

Yeah. You could get used to this.

And take advantage of it he did. 

You weren’t going to complain. Not one bit.

The men ended up complaining however, specifically Fives and Echo who managed to crack the code a few days later and had been a little surprised to say the least. 

Well, they learned their lesson and frankly, you were too happy to care about the teasing and complaints. Rex changed the code again and gave it to you immediately. You’d practically melted on the spot, happier than you had been in a long time.

Who knew a code could lead to something as special as this?

[abschaumno1]

On fandom, shipping and boundaries

Since I have seen a lot of talk about boundaries and shipping over the last couple days, and because that has led to me doing a lot of thinking on it/ I just wanted to share my few cents on the topic.

For those who haven’t seen me talk about this before I should probably mention that I’ve been in fandom for over ten years and in RPF spaces for six years now. So that’s the background that informs my opinions.

So let’s get into this.

Most of the arguments I see center around the opinion that we as fans need consent from content creators to essentially do anything in fandom. Which is right where it starts for me to be honest.

Fandom is and has always been a subculture where fans of a thing meet and exchange their ideas and create art and fic and all sorts of other transformative works for each other. Emphasis on “for each other”.

As a fan I am in fandom spaces to talk to other people who like the same things I do, and I am in fandom spaces to share with other fans what I create based on the things we like (fanfic in my personal case).

Over the past ten years I have watched the increasing shift towards where fandom is more out in the open, and where fans apparently feel like they can and should approach creators with the things they used to share in fandom circles. Obviously some creators have made it clear that they don’t have a problem with that, have actively encouraged it, or admitted to seeking it out to some extend. I think the most famous example for this is probably Bryan Fuller and his enthusiasm about Hannibal fandom in general and Hannigram fanworks in particular, or Mads Mikkelsen, who to my knowledge has publicly admitted to reading (and liking) explicit Hannigram fic. They made that decision for themselves and I think that’s great for them.

Now here’s also the heart of the issue for me. Because I am a very strong believer in the fourth wall, meaning that there is fandom and then there is the spaces where we get to interact with the creators (cons, more recently social media accounts), and yes, sometimes those things intersect, but that does not mean the fourth wall is and should be disregarded.

Shipping especially (since that’s the reason I am writing this post) is a subset of fandom. Not everyone in fandom ships; not everyone in fandom wants to ship. And that’s completely fine. We’re all here to have fun and we all look for different things from what we do in fandom. But at no point does that entitle any of us to demand others to cater to what we personally want from fandom. And at no point does any of this mean we should feel like we have to ask for permission to do the things we do.

Fandom is not just transformative, it is transgressive. Modern fandom, especially modern slash fandom got popularised by women writing queer content about Star Trek in the 1970s (the first published slash story was published in a zine in 1974). And yes, there are cases where I would argue for being publicly transgressive, but I do not think that this should apply to fandom, and being transgressive means that I can and will do things without regard to what any creator wants me to do.

And this is where we go back to the fourth wall and the question of boundaries. I have seen a trend in Hermitcraft fandom specifically where people approach content creators to ask them what their boundaries are and compile lists of who is fine with what. And that in itself crosses a boundary for me.

See one of the most important things I learned in fandom in general, and in Hockey RPF specifically is that the fourth wall is one of the most important boundaries we have in fandom. Shipping is for us. Not for the creators or the professionals involved. And I will be honest with you, none of the shippers I know in Hermitcraft fandom actively share their shippy stuff with creators. In fact, a lot of them feel uncomfortable at the mere suggestion that any of the Hermits could read or see their shipping content.

Asking the Hermits (and other content creators) what they think about shipping and whether they are okay with it is crossing that boundary, and in my personal opinion it shows a disregard for the content creators these “fans” presumably care about. If you actually want to respect them, just keep that stuff away from them. They are adults, if they happen to find it they can decide to ignore it. And if they decide not to ignore it then that is their own decision. A decision they can make for themselves, because once again, they are adults.

But people will use even ambiguous statements or non-statements and twist them to mean what they think they should mean and then go and harass people who kept this content to their own circles and sharing it with others who want to see it and try to tell them what they can and cannot do. They will tell you “I don’t speak for them” and then tell you that the only way to read a statement is their way. The moment you take an ambiguous statement or a statement that has never been made and say "this means that" without letting the person in question clarify, you are attempting to speak for them. And no, this does not mean I want people to ask the Hermits for clarification. I want people to not bring this up with the Hermits at all

And I have seen the concept of consent being brought up in this context and I am just going to say it: The concept of consent does not apply here.

The concept of consent as used by anti-shippers and yes, also shippers insistent on respecting these boundaries, whether they are correctly interpreted or not, is the concept of consent we apply to s*xual encounters. And that concept does not apply here. At all.

Consent as applied to s*xual encounters is a legal tool used to determine whether an encounter was unconsensual and thus breaking the law, or not.

I have seen an analogy being thrown around where creating shipping content without being told by the person you create it about that they are okay with it is the same as walking up to a stranger and holding their hand without asking if they are okay with it.

This analogy is false.

A more fitting analogy would be this: You see a stranger and you would like to hold their hand. You walk up to them to ask if you can, potentially making them feel uncomfortable. This is what people asking Hermits about whether they are okay with shipping are doing.

Or you could quietly draw art of yourself holding the stranger's hands or write about it, and not show it to them, meaning they will never know, which has literally no effect on them whatsoever. This is what shippers are already doing.

We all have fantasies. It's human to have fantasies. There is nothing wrong with that. The moment this becomes an issue is when we ignore the boundaries of the objects of our fantasies and tell them about them unsolicited.

Another thing I want to make abundantly clear here is the following: The Hermits are not your friends.

They may be accessible online and they may even talk to fans online, but they are not our friends. We know as much as they are willing to share publicly. Nothing more and nothing less. What we know about and of them is a public persona. And yes, that persona may or may not include aspects of their real personalities, but at the end of the day they are effectively strangers.

Accessibility online does not mean we are entitled to cross boundaries we would not cross in real life either. And someone talking to you about something unrelated does not make you entitled to ask them frankly invasive questions about things they might not have encountered or put much thought into without you asking those questions.

Furthermore, I would like us all to remember what happened when ZombieCleo came out and told anti-shippers that they should stop harassing shippers. This fandom has a history and considering that history, I am not surprised when Hermits give ambiguous statements or try to avoid saying anything, even ignoring for a moment that it's invasive. If I had witnessed people bully my friend and that same community is now asking me to state my opinion on the same issue I would think twice about how to reply. Especially if I rely on that same community for part of my income.

This is a lot of text already and I could probably find more to say but I'll wrap it up here. If you have any concerns or want to discuss points further my ask box is open. Just don't be an asshole.

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Lemonade (Part 2): Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

synopsis: The part where Toji makes it clear who's his and what he's been doing. For five. Long. Years. (This is also the finale.)

wc: 1.8k

tw: none

masterlist

You're incredibly sore.

Your thighs chafe painfully as you walk into the ballroom, eyes slowly roving toward you in your emerald sequin dress. But you hide your discomfort well, taking a glass of champagne and floating through the masses with a disinterested smile.

Just three hours of this and you'll be done.

You see the eyes of your lover from across the room, and your stomach clenches, remembering the way they looked at you just hours before.

I have to get my bed frame fixed. You think, but the feeling of your thighs rubbing together is more pressing than that. Toji rolls his bottom lips between his teeth and you falter a little. This man will literally be the death of you, you note, placing the glass down on the nearest tray beside you.

"Ms. L/N," the new head of inter-clan relations appears, holding her delicate hand out for you to shake. "It's a pleasure to see you again."

"Are we going to receive the clan heads in the Grand Hall, or--"

"No, we'll be in the conference room this evening." Odd. But you nod, letting her disappear into the crowd once more as you weave around unimportant people on your way to the conference room. You feel a presence behind you, and quirk your lips as you climb the stairs, praying Fushiguro wouldn't corner you and blow your back out for the third time today.

"Walking a little stiff, aren't we?" The sound of Satoru behind you makes you turn, eyes alight.

"Gojo," you smile, taking stock of the white-haired, blue-eyed man who grins at you lazily. "You're looking incredibly..." You frown. "Drunk."

"Suguru and I hate these things. I got drunk before I got here. But it looks like you got your cheeks clapped before you arrived."

"Satoru," you warn, flushing a little.

"Oh, you really got your back blown out, didn't you?" Gojo wonders, dragging a finger across your exposed chest. "Your chest gets especially red when you're embarrassed."

"Watch your mouth, Gojo," you hear behind you, and Toji appears out of nowhere, touching your hip briefly before he stands in front of you. Gojo's eyes light up and a smile cracks his face in two again, elbows resting against the railing of the balcony as he huffs a breath in disbelief. Suguru chooses this moment to appear, his black eyes taking stock of the situation he's walked into with interest.

"You owe me a thousand," Suguru finally mutters, and Satoru laughs.

"Put it on my tab. Never in a million years would I have thought you would've gotten the nerve up, Fushiguro." Toji doesn't answer. Instead, he looks at you over his shoulder and murmurs,

"You good?" You nod, but you begin to feel fatigued as if this whole interaction is taking too much out of you. As the other clan heads begin to climb the stairs to the conference room, you walk behind Toji, his stern expression unrelenting. But you've seen the other side of it. Nothing about Toji scares you anymore.

Well... almost.

The fervor with which he plowed into you week after week was mind-blowing. For a whole month, Toji rendered you close to crippled as he made it very clear that he's ready for you to become a mother. But you laid there every single time and took it, because secretly? You want to get pregnant. Just imagining yourself carrying his child is enough to make you endure the discomfort of sore thighs and a stiff lower back.

You take your seat around the circular table, right next to Satoru and another older man of the Okkotsu clan. The head of inter-clan relations appears and dims the lights, presenting figures about each clan, and successes before issues that need to be solved. You listen with minimal interest, eyes flicking to Toji every so often and catching his gaze every time.

Food is brought out in the middle of her presentation, and normally, you would enjoy the smell of the grilled salmon and poached goose eggs. But your stomach lurches as the dinner is presented to you, and you push it away instantly, shaking your head.

"Not hungry," you assert, and the server takes the food away quietly.

"Not feeling well?" Satoru wonders, cutting into his salmon. "Maybe you're too full of Fushig-- ow!" You press your shoe onto his toes, trying your best to silence him in the presence of others. Once the presentation is over and the lights come back up, you look around the table and see Toji standing up, dusting off his slacks.

"So, as all of you are aware," he begins, walking around carefully. "I've recently acquired a very nice piece of real estate on the east coast." Your eyes flick to Toji, frowning. What is he going on about? "I'm expanding my reach to the east for a little while, maybe even California, if at all possible. But," he stops right behind your chair, placing his hands on your shoulders. "That also means I will need a sizable backing from the majority of you to ensure profits and imports go untouched. Any major player can earn up to fifty percent of their share back within the first year, and I'll personally invest a large portion of my capital to make this a successful venture." You relax, thanking the heavens that Toji didn't say what you thought he would--

"Oh, and one more thing," he mutters. "I know some of you think that Ms. L/n remains completely and utterly unoccupied. But I want to make it very clear that she and I are partners. Beyond the business sense." Your skin prickles at this, and you look over at the other heads, who look somewhat unamused. "None of your sons have any claim to her."

"Fushiguro," Suguru mutters. "You really think we didn't already know? You're looking for a fucking seven-bedroom residence in Cali." Geto laces his fingers together behind his head and leans back in his chair, utterly unbothered. "We all know the tell-tale sign of a man wanting to start a family. Congrats."

_____________________________________________________________

As you unlace your dress, you look at Toji, who is taking his shoes off slowly and sitting on the bed, obviously deep in thought.

"What can I help you with?" you wonder, coming up behind him and lacing your arms around his neck. "You're thinking a lot."

"Nothing," Toji whispers, rubbing your arm slowly. When he leans back a little, you hiss, feeling a sharp pain in your tender breasts. "Did I hurt you?" he wonders, turning around to look at your expression.

"No," you mumble, rubbing your chest carefully. "My boobs have been really sore lately."

"Is it your period?" Toji wonders, getting up and undoing his dress shirt. "Should I get the heating pad in case--"

"No. I haven't had it in a while," you admit. "I'm just super stressed out. Haven't really had a moment of rest with all the business I've been--"

"But you're always on time," Toji bites his lip, opening his phone and looking at his calendar. "Yeah, the second or third week of the month, like clockwork."

"I'm just stressed," you urge him, but Toji goes toward the bathroom, grabbing something out of the cabinet before coming back.

"Here," he tosses a cardboard box at you, and you pick it up, looking at the words carefully.

"A pregnancy test?"

"Just do it," he mutters, sitting on the edge of the bed again. "You've had a lot of symptoms lately so we just have to be sure." You begrudgingly walk to the bathroom, murmuring,

"You really want to have a family, huh?" You sit on the toilet and pee on the stick, absolutely bored to death, but also unconvinced that you could be pregnant.

Until you remember just how much sex you'd been having with Toji for the past month.

Unprotected sex.

You lay the test face-down on the counter and shakily stand then wash your hands. But it seems like you're stuck in the middle of it - hands just sitting under the water - when Toji peeks his head inside.

"What's going on? Anything?"

"I--" You look over at Toji slowly. "I'm scared to look at it." As expected, Toji opens the door and presses his hands to your bare waist before littering kisses along your shoulders.

"What are you afraid of?"

"I want to be a good mom," you begin, looking down at your stomach. "I don't know if I'm going to be able to do that with everything going on."

"Hey, look at me," Toji whispers, turning your chin toward him. "You're going to be an amazing mother. I think you need to be more worried about me being a deadbeat dad."

"Toji!" you exclaim and he laughs, his signature scar splitting in two.

"Don't worry," he replies, kissing your lips once. "I'm not going anywhere." You nod, and he reaches over to grab the test, flipping it over in his hands.

"Oh, I can't look," you murmur, covering your face with your palms.

"Okay, but..." Toji grunts. "What the fuck does two lines mean? That we're having twins?"

_____________________________________________________________

"It's seven bedrooms, ten bathrooms, and two half-baths." You're walking behind the real-estate agent as you examine the home, rubbing your stomach absentmindedly. "Fully furnished."

"Can you tell me about the neighborhood?" you wonder, and Toji looks over at the realtor, who nervously looks between you.

"Um... It's in Brentwood Park..." she murmurs.

"People mind their business here?" Toji wonders, hand caressing your belly for a moment. "Good schools?"

"Of course, sir."

"Good. We'll take it."

_____________________________________________________________

"Hey!" Toji cries out, waving his spatula in the air. "Your mom said stop runnin' around the pool, so stop fuckin' runnin'!" The two young children slow their movements, the older daughter instead choosing to push her brother into the pool. "Tsumiki, apologize!"

"Sorry, Mangomi..."

You waddle out in the backyard, groaning as you carry a cell phone and your lemonade in one hand and a laptop in the other. When Toji sees you, he huffs a breath and sets the spatula down next to the grill.

"Baby, you gotta be careful," he grumbles, taking the open laptop as you sit in the lounge chair in your bikini and coverup. "Don't want you hurting yourself."

"I'm fine, Toji," you mutter, leaning over to remove your sandals. Well, it's not as much of a lean as it's bringing your leg up far enough so your sandal can slip off. The twins between you and the sandal won't let you bend at all. "They're finally resting and I want to sunbathe for a bit."

"With the laptop?" You point at the banking website, and Toji squints at the screen, eyes widening at the numbers on the screen. "This... this is how much we--"

"Your little plan worked. Turns out marrying me was more profitable than you first imagined," you answer, scrolling on your phone and taking a sip of lemonade.

"Holy shit," he breathes, smoothing his hair back. "Need to make sure I keep you incredibly happy, huh?"

"That shouldn't be too hard," you smile and Toji presses his lips to yours, holding you close.

[sineala]

The gay Invaders

Hi, internet! Today I'd like to talk about one of the chronologically-first canonically-gay couples in Marvel Comics history: Brian Falsworth (the second Union Jack) and Roger Aubrey (The Destroyer). (I mean "chronological" in terms of in-universe timeline rather than RL publication date; I'm pretty sure Northstar is still the first to publication as far as unambiguously-gay Marvel heroes go.)

If you are a fan of reading or writing about Captain America being queer, you should care about Brian and Roger, because they were two of Steve's fellow Invaders in the 1940s, meaning that they are two of the people on the list of Steve's Old Gay Friends And Teammates, because, yeah, Steve sure had a lot of canonically gay friends during the war. Probably more than you'd think he would have had in the forties! (The other two are Percival Pinkerton, who's part of Nick Fury's Howling Commandos, and of course Steve's childhood friend Arnie Roth. Pinky is gay by word of Stan Lee, IIRC; Arnie was as canonically gay as DeMatteis could make him in the early 1980s, so they didn't say the word "gay" but it's really, really not subtle. Steve compares what Arnie feels for his "roommate" Michael to what Steve feels for his girlfriend Bernie. Yeah.)

I previously made a Tumblr post about Brian and Roger, rounding up some of the canonical evidence of their relationship, but that post is six years old now, and in the intervening years, Marvel has thoughtfully put the rest of the 70s Invaders run on Unlimited as well as the two Citizen V miniseries that star Roger and retcon his relationship with Brian as romantic. So I've read them now, and I've got panels.

Okay. I should probably begin by saying that Brian and Roger are not canonically gay in their first significant appearance together, which is in Invaders vol 1 #19 and #20, published in 1977. Roy Thomas does not seem to have intended them to be a couple, and they aren't canonically one in any of the original Invaders run. However, if you enjoy gay subtext, it's very nice.

This whole arc is the one that introduces Roger in modern canon. He's been brainwashed by the Nazis and the Invaders rescue him and get him back to his normal self. But in #19 we get his backstory in flashback, as related by Montgomery, Lord Falsworth (Brian's father; yes, MCU fans, the name should look familiar) and it turns out that Roger and Brian were basically best friends since childhood:

They were the dearest of friends!

Anyway, they both ended up captured by Nazis, they presumably changed their minds about appeasement as a policy, Brian got out and joined the Invaders, then they had to rescue the brainwashed Roger, and it's a fair amount of fun in a two-issue arc.

The subtext is even more prominent in Invaders #34, in which they find out that someone going by the Destroyer (which is Roger's codename) has been doing villainous deeds, and the Invaders worry that Roger's gotten himself brainwashed again. Brian immediately insists that it can't really be Roger because he knows Roger and Roger Would Never:

Unsurprisingly, Brian is right. It's not really Roger; Master Man is impersonating the Destroyer, and the villains have taken Roger captive, and the Invaders break him out and there is an extremely significant moment where it just so happens that Roger has to catch Brian, saving his life for a change, and they stare deeply into each other's eyes and Brian seems to be having difficulty finishing his sentences:

Some people who read this therefore concluded that Brian and Roger were extremely gay for each other. While ordinarily this sort of shipping is mostly confined to fandom, in this particular instance, one of the people who started shipping Brian/Roger was Fabian Nicieza, and Fabian Nicieza, as you probably know, writes comics for Marvel. I think you see where this is going.

However, first I must inform you that, sadly, Brian has been canonically dead for years. Captain America vol 1 #253-254 -- the two-parter about Baron Blood in the Stern/Byrne Cap run in the 80s -- establishes that Brian died in a car accident in 1953. (This is also the run where Joseph Chapman -- a friend of Jacqueline Falsworth's son Kenneth -- becomes the third (and current) Union Jack.)

(Roger then appears in a bunch of T-Bolts issues; I assume there's nothing interesting there on the gay front because I feel like someone would have told me. I should probably read more than three T-Bolts issues someday.)

So, anyway, in 2001, Fabian Nicieza wrote a miniseries called Citizen V and the V-Battalion. Roger, who is still superheroing as the Destroyer despite being pretty old by this point, is part of the titular V-Battalion, and he has a very prominent role in this miniseries. And in #1, we have the usual splash page of character backstory, and there's a very, um, interesting line there:

Regarding Brian and Roger's relationship, the narration informs us: "It sounds much gayer than it probably was."

This is interesting, obviously for a couple of reasons. One is that, up to this point in canon, as far as I can tell, literally nobody thought any of this sounded the slightest bit gay at all. (Other than, I guess, Fabian Nicieza.) The other reason is that, as we soon find out, it actually was as gay as it sounds. Thanks, Fabian!

In 2002, Nicieza wrote a second miniseries, Citizen V and the V-Battalion: The Everlasting. Issue #1 opens with a flashback set in 1953; specifically, we see Brian's funeral:

Roger is extremely sad, and when Lord Falsworth expresses his sympathy about the death of Roger's "friend" and saying that he knows how much this hurts him, Roger mutters under his breath that he doesn't have the slightest clue:

All is revealed on the next page, when one of the other characters tries to ask Roger about superhero business and Roger snaps at him because, as he says, "I just watched my friend die in my arms."

Except "friend" isn't the word he starts to say:

Yep. That would be "lover." So Roger nearly outs himself. So, yes, now it's absolutely canon. Hooray.

Later on in the issue, which is set in the present day, we have a couple pages of Roger staring at pictures of the two of them and continuing to be sad:

Yeah. They were a couple.

So the question you -- being a Captain America fan -- might ask yourself is, okay, did/does Steve know about any of this? (The reason I started looking all this up was because I wanted to know if Steve knew.) I don't know if we have a panel of Roger specifically admitting any of this to Steve (and if we do, I would like to know about it), but I would be comfortable saying that Steve probably knew back then -- because, well, he seems like the kind of guy who would actually have been fine with it in the 40s, what with all his gay friends -- and also that I can't think of a reason why he wouldn't know now. Because he's definitely worked with Roger again in fairly recent comics, and also Roger is very much out, these days.

In fact, New Invaders #4 (2004) opens with Roger attending Pride:

So, yeah, he's out.

(Then he has to fight, as far as I can tell, homophobic Nazi vampires. They're yelling slurs in German. Great.)

In All-New Invaders #10, which is from 2014 (and which is not the same series as New Invaders), Roger shows up to help out the Invaders, and in passing, he just happens to mention to another character (Joseph Chapman, the current Union Jack), that he is in fact gay:

He and Joseph don't really like each other much; as far as I can tell, their acquaintance in New Invaders consists of Joseph being vaguely homophobic and Roger being bitter about him being Union Jack because he actually wanted to be Union Jack himself to honor Brian's memory -- you know, that thing superheroes sometimes like to do to honor their dead superhero significant others, viz. Hank when Jan was dead after Secret Invasion -- and now Union Jack is this annoying kid and not, y'know, the love of his life. This exchange from New Invaders #4 seems pretty representative of their relationship:

Anyway, yeah, he's pretty obviously out.

Steve isn't actually present for this conversation in All-New Invaders, but he mentions in a later issue of this run that he knows what Roger and his pals have been up to, plot-wise, so I feel comfortable assuming that he's talked to Roger at some point in the previous ten years or so, and therefore, since Roger is completely out at this point in canon, there's no reason Steve shouldn't know now.

On an unrelated note, it's also a fun issue if you're a Steve/Tony fan because this is clearly running in parallel with Hickman's Avengers run, which means that he spends half a page telling Namor that he's mad at him and the rest of the Illuminati (but mostly mad at Tony because... he's just obsessed with Tony in this run, I guess?) about the mindwipe:

This is the sum total of my knowledge about Brian and Roger. No, wait, I know one more thing, which is that Brian was a character in the late, lamented mobile game Avengers Academy, in which he was also actually gay; Roger does not seem to have been there. There's a CBR article that you can read about the whole thing, which mentions some of these details from the comics in passing. (I have no idea why it says that their relationship was alluded to in the Stern/Byrne run; unless I missed something big, the only thing those issues do is establish Brian's death. As far as I can tell, no one is gay in them.)

So, yeah, that's Brian Falsworth and Roger Aubrey, the two gay Invaders. Steve sure has a lot of gay friends.

[brandybradyrandyandyndy]

Mark Forster's role in the Ace Attorney franchise

Okay, first off:

I'm not a fan of Mark Forster's music, please don't take this post the wrong way

There might be some aa trilogy spoilers

Also, I admit this title is pretty bold for what I'm going to say on this topic, but I watch The Voice of Germany with my sister every week and one of the coaches is Mark Forster who I only know like five songs of in total, but his song "Au Revoir" (which is actually a terrible song btw. It's so catchy, I've had it stuck in my head since I woke up this morning and it ruined my day.) kind of reminded me of the whole "Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth chooses death." thing, because the only thing I knew about this song was the refrain:

which would be roughly translated to:

"There is nothing that's holding me back, au revoir / Forget who I was / Forget my name / It will never be the way it was before / I'm off / Au revoir"

But as I looked further into the lyrics I found out there is a "rap part" which tells you about the places the lyrical I will go to when they're away and it contains a passage that adds a beautiful twist to my theory/headcanon (I'm not sure what to call this yet).

"I'm sitting on the Mayan throne in the jungle / [...] / The phoenix is taking off now"

You see where I'm going with this? I know, it's not Phoenix who's leaving and I know the lyrics refer to the Maya Civilization from Mesoamerica, but I thought it was a funny coincidence, that not only does the word "Phoenix" appear in the lyrics of this song, but so does "Maya".

So when I first saw this part of "Au Revoir", I started imagining how Miles Edgeworth would listen to this song and like dramatically sing along to it and start crying or something, but this only posed another question:

How could this scenario happen? How and why would he even come in contact with this song?

My first guess was, Miles probably went to Germany after he left his note, because he grew up there (I think), when he had been adopted by Manfred von Karma as a child, and he heard the song somewhere in the radio because in Germany they blast Mark Forster's music in almost every public space, so there is no escape from it ever. I tried to find out, during which timespan Miles left America, just to make sure if there was a chance that he actually could have heard it on the radio.

In the Ace Attorney wiki this timespan isn't clearly mentioned, but since the last case (Rise from the Ashes) from the first game is set in February 2017 and Edgeworth returns to America in March 2018 I'm guessing, this is exactly the time window in which he's in Germany* (minus some days/weeks of course, because I don't think he'd just leave on the exact same day he had his last trial in America). *to make this easier for me I'm just assuming he spends the entirety of his travels in Germany

But this brings me to my problem, the German Charts of 2017/2018.

As you can see, the only songs by Mark Forster that were in the charts while Miles would be in Germany are the ones above. This means that it is highly unlikely that he knew of "Au Revoir" from the radio, because why would they play this old song if they could also play Mark Forster's more recent songs that are popular right now?

But when exactly was "Au Revoir" popular enough to be in the German Charts?

During my research I looked up these years, too, and it came down to 2014 (the year "Au Revoir" was released) and even a year later in 2015. So there is no way he could have known of this song if his most recent stay in Germany was in 2017, right? (I mean, unless the German people he met then, had literally no taste and forced him to listen to it.)

But I have a pretty simple and logical explanation on how he could have still known of this song, even though he probably wouldn't have heard it in Germany in 2017.

I tried really hard, but I couldn't for my life find real data on Mark Forster's demographic, so just believe me if I tell you that his demographic is mostly preteen and teenage girls. Also, it's worth mentioning that Mark Forster's music is pretty much only known in German speaking countries like Germany, Switzerland and Austria. Now, let's take a closer look at the years, in which Au Revoir was most popular: 2014 and 2015

Who could Miles Edgeworth possibly know, who in 2014/2015 is 1. German, 2. a teenager and 3. a girl? The answer is quite obvious:

His younger sister Franziska von Karma.

Considering that she was either 14 or 15 when "Au Revoir" was released, she fits Mark Forster's demographic perfectly and although I'm not 100% sure if she was in Germany then, I still believe, she must have had at least some connection to Germany in some way, maybe a German friend who she still was in contact with or maybe she had access to German tv, maybe German YouTube channels or social media. And don't get me wrong, I love Franziska von Karma and I wouldn't wish anything bad on her, but at the same time I strongly believe that she'd be the kind of girl who'd have gone through a Mark Forster phase as a teen.

Now remember that I, myself, have a sister. I know what siblings do to annoy each other and I just know from the bottom of my heart that if Franziska really was a fan of Mark Forster's music, she would blast it on any opportunity she'd get. Or she would at least talk about him and his songs with her brother. Believe me. If Franziska really listened to Mark Forster, Miles would have known of him, too. There is literally no other way. (For reference, I know every 1D member's name, birthday and relationship status, although I literally do not care about any of them at all, only because my sister is obsessed with them and talks about them 24/7. Meanwhile the only MCR member I know, is Gerard Way, even though I listen to their music on the daily.)

So here is my conclusion.

Miles Edgeworth definitely listened to "Au Revoir" by Mark Forster on the plane from Japanifornia to Germany and he also definitely cried, after he made sure nobody could see him (especially during the part "Der Phönix macht jetz 'n Abflug"/"The phoenix is taking off now"). Also, he probably listened to the song multiple times during his stay in Germany and you literally can't prove me wrong on this. I mean you could try, but I invested way too much of my time in this to actually care about another person's opinion on my shitty headcanon.

Also, the moment Franziska met Phoenix and Maya, her memories vaulted her right back to her Mark Forster phase and her hatred against Phoenix wasn't solely based on the fact that he was accountable for the conviction of her father Manfred von Karma, her hatred was also ignited by the fact that she probably had "Au Revoir" stuck in her head because of these two for the rest of the day and I just know that this must have completely ruined it for her.

Also, unrelated to anything I've said prior:

Klavier Gavin would definitely collaborate with Mark Forster on at least one song and however severe Franziska's Mark Forster phase might have been, I am convinced Klavier would have outdone her by far. I haven't played AJAA yet, but as much as I've gathered from the fandom, he's like a weeaboo but with Germany, I think? I'm absolutely sure, he wouldn't ever miss a chance like this.

Finally, here is the song this whole post is about:

[wixelt]

Sand (Hermitverse AU)

The first thing False Symmetry really noticed, beyond the splitting headache pounding unrelentingly at her skull, was the heat.

It bore down on her with an unrelenting fury that little else save for fire and lava could match. Before she'd even opened her eyes, she knew she had to be in a desert.

As if the sand shifting beneath her hands and the blazing sunlight piercing her eyelids wouldn't have told her that already.

Prone on her back, False groaned, doing her best to push through the painful miasma clouding her thoughts. She cracked one eye open slowly, then the other, wincing only slightly as the sun’s glare brightened in her gaze.

“Owww...” she shook her head weakly, staring up at the cloudless sky above. Steeling herself, she gritted her teeth. “O-Okay, let's try...”

Then, with another groan of aching effort, she drew her legs inward, pivoting upward and forward into a sitting position as best she could. Joints still protesting, she slumped, catching her breath as her body decided exactly how messed up it was.

False would normally have said she'd been through worse and would be fine, but as much as that might have been true for the pain itself, she really had no precedent for, well, any of this, really.

“What was it...?” she muttered wearily to herself, still a small part delirious as she glanced about, searching for any notable landmarks as she sought to get her bearings on exactly how she’d wound up in this situation. But…

Nope. Just sand, sand, more sand and— oh look, even more sand over there, too. Joy.

It probably didn't help that she was surrounded on all sides by tall, imposing dunes and sand cliffs. That kind of thing really limited how far someone could see.

Which meant there was probably some climbing in her near future.

False’s headache – though slowly fading – pulsed again, reminding her that she was in no fit state to even stand properly, let alone make that sort of ascent.

Normally, she’d listen to common sense. In the face of… whatever was going on, though...

False managed to begin only barely standing before she visibly winced, immediately dropping and clutching her head with a barely restrained cry of pain, sand displacing slightly beneath her as she abruptly fell, feet sliding out from beneath her.

Okay, so… Maybe not just yet.

“Damn.” The blonde warrior sighed to herself, running her hands down her face in an effort to centre herself, wiping the perspiration from her eyes. She really wasn’t liking being a sitting duck like this. It didn’t suit her at all.

Especially given what was happening.

…

…come to think of it, what was happening?

False’s brow furrowed, doing her best to draw together scattered fragments of recent memory floating about amidst her disarray. They were… less than cooperative, but slowly a picture she could recognize began to form, to her slight relief.

She remembered… panic. That, at least, had been pretty consistent.

In fact, she was fairly sure that once the shock of suddenly waking up in a blisteringly hot desert wore off and she was able to overcome her mild concussion to get her whereabouts, some manner of nervous breakdown would be due.

That wasn’t going to be very constructive at the moment, though, so as for now…

There’d been a light, of some kind, False recalled. This unnatural, all-consuming glow that had descended from the heavens above, washing over the island and all its surroundings in twisted, impossible waves. The land itself had almost felt as if it were unravelling beneath her feet, the air permeated by this inescapable sense of… wrongness.

Though she was wary to admit it, it recalled the unease she sometimes felt around one of Impulse’s void holes, cracked in the bedrock to appease whatever new manner of joking pseudo deity a ‘Boatem’ was meant to be. This time, however, the feeling had been multiplied a thousand-fold, instincts screaming at her to run in the other direction.

The pieces beginning to slot back into place, she remembered that as the broken light had subsumed all before them, she and Jevin had stepped between it and the other two in the group, Stress and Gem both caught in the moment, neither a pushover but both frozen in the suddenness of the situation, unsure what to do.

Against such a large wave of force, however, such an act – though one False hoped would be seen as courageous rather than stupid in hindsight – had been pointless, and she had whited out, only to wake amidst burning sands with – unless her senses were deceiving her – a completely drained internal inventory.

Alone.

In a creepy desert that was – the longer she paid attention it – seeming more and more unsettlingly quiet, even lacking much wind in its stillness.

Which meant… Wait.

“Oh no…” Eyes bulging in alarm, False shot to her feet to with practised but haphazardly frantic speed, “Oh no, no, no… No!” Her skull pulsed again, but it was weak enough now that she could ignore it. With nothing more than a brief, dizzied stumble, she was moving.

Suddenly, the glaring and alarmingly absolute absence of three others was the only thing on her mind.

“JEVIN!” False’s booted feet scrabbled wildly against the unhelpfully loose sand, the soft and uneven ground easily giving way with every step as she desperately scrambled up the side of one of the dunes, seeking higher ground. Her voice echoed for a moment amidst the dunes and cliffs with a call for the friend within the trio that she’d known the longest, but it was quickly swallowed up by the desert’s oppressive emptiness.

No answer.

“GEM?!” Her tone was more fear-tinged, now, sights darting back and forth searchingly as she rose faster, now, finally finding some more solid footing beneath the top layer. Quickly, she surged forward, one foot in front of the other as she called out for a more recent friendship a second time, “GEM!”

Still no answer.

Please, come on…

“…STRESS…?” False tried, a little weaker but no less vocal, for the ray of unyielding positivity she hoped would uncloud this mess, trailing off a little as hopelessness clawed at her, no response once again leading to an eerie, uncomfortable silence. She did her best to brush it aside, however. She was stronger than that. She had to be, for them.

They’d… They’d probably just been scattered. That had to be it. They were almost certainly around here somewhere. All she needed to do was find them, and they could make their way back to the island – though only the gods knew just how they’d ended up in such a distant and unfamiliar desert biome, far beyond the limits of their new world’s current resource gathering borders – and Xisuma could clear up this whole mess.

It’d just be another weird happening that the Hermits could all look back on years from now and laugh about… right?

Even as the thought crossed her mind, something in the pit of False’s stomach – some long-refined warrior’s instinct – told her that wasn’t going to happen.

The others were all resourceful when push came to shove, though. They… They’d be fine until they could group up.

“Ungh…” False grunted, staggering slightly and almost losing her footing on the unstable ground. She scowled to herself, pressing ever onward to the potential vantage point up above, only steps away from her, now. To a place where she could work out where the others were, and equally as much where she was. “Come on…” With one final push, accompanied by a grunt of effort, she finally crested the top of the vast dune.

“Good… Right!” she wiped the sweat from her brow. “Now where… am… I…?”

False slowed to a stop atop the dune, trailing off into the overbearing silence. She fell slack jawed, struck dumb as the gravity of her situation set in from the sight before her alone.

In the days and weeks to come – and even beyond that – this feeling of being completely and dangerously out of her depth would be propagated by how this terrible, lonely eldritch desert seemed to span infinitely in every direction, no trace or slightest notation of healthy green visible on the horizon no matter which way she looked. The true sign of a dying world.

The lack of any doorways, hidden as they were, out of this realm and into others – the kind that usually appeared in every world, be they natural or admin placed – would only further exacerbate that feeling once the initial wave of helplessness passed.

Right now, however, there was one thing and one thing alone that drew her attention. That caused her skin to crawl at its very sight, though she did not yet entirely know why.

And it filled her entire vision like a looming titan, still a good distance away but a vast and unignorable dark, mechanical blotch on the hellish sands around, nonetheless.

False stared at the giant, rusting mechanical hand, half-submerged in the yellow surface, reaching for the heavens, fingers outstretched in an unmoving, statue-like impression of life. A moment frozen in time and yet telling of a long spanning, lost history that was best left unknown.

And though it lacked eyes with which to stare out at her, False knew it saw her too.

“Oh… Crap.”

----

Ages ago, I had an idea. An idea that featured the MCYTverse suffering a massive metaphysical event that severs/destabilizes connections between most worlds, energetic events befalling the worlds closest to the epicenter.

In this AU, the Hermits’ world would be one of the closest, causing it to be scrambled and the Hermits to be scattered to the winds, thrown to the great beyond and spat out elsewhere, washing up across the multiverse, alone where they don’t belong. Some would arrive in worlds with friends, some in worlds with faces familiar to you or me but lesser known to them, and some in worlds long forgotten.

The ways between worlds would be unstable, making hopping through a portal to reunite with friends near-impossible.This would be a challenge to be tackled alone. And with such diverse situations - and crossover potential - each Hermit would have their own difficulties.

At the time, I didn’t go ahead with the AU because I was told someone else was already planning an near-identical AU, but I've seen little signs of it since, and have concluded that there’s also no reason two AUs with similar premises can’t coexist anyway.

So while I don’t know if i’ll carry on from this, I had a fic snippet idea I wanted to get out for this Hermitverse AU, so feel free to let me know what you think, and if I got False’s “voice” right. Also, I haven’t stated the world she’s ended up in, but I feel like it’s a relatively easy guess contextually, and I may add it to the tags once someone picks up on it. :P

Enjoy!

[bigbrotherlouis]

i’m obsessed with joel farabee and morgan frost and you should be too: a primer

hello! welcome! recently i have become infatuated with morgan frost and joel farabee for a lot of reasons but mostly because of that one post that i spent like twenty minutes searching various blogs for that said “people are freaking out about sexualising hockey players, meanwhile joel farabee is one instagram comment away from telling morgan frost he’d suck him dry.” in my head rent free. hit a girl up if you have the post.

anyway! frosty and beezy:

[hard cut to me whispering “oh my god even their nUMBERS are friends” i’m fine.]

this is more like about vibes and less about facts, so you can google if you want to know more about their, like, bios and stats and stuff that’s not 99% rpf or conjecture. this primer is just the things that make me scream. however, that being said, they do play well on a line together and both are very good players.

joel farabee is american, from new york i believe but his dad is from philly, and falls neatly into the category of BORN TO BE A FLYER. longtime fan, hugely excited to play for the team, brings it up all the time.

morgan frost, from ontario canada, was not.

a real, actual tweet. he tweeted this with his WHOLE chest and then joined the flyers like three years later. i adore it. another real actual tweet i adore:

sweet, sweet joel. he misses his buddies :( no doubt including morgan because they are, by all appearances, obsessed with each other. i’m trying not to keep  using the word obsessed in this primer but it’s hard because they are. morgan’s a year older, a first round draft pick in 2017 and joel’s a first round pick in 2018, but they didn’t start playing together until 2019, i believe, because joel played for a college team in boston. side note: he also captained team usa and wore a number 28 in honour of claude giroux and i am absolutely not okay about it.

e! mo! tion! al! incidentally, frosty wears danny briere’s number when he plays for the flyers, which. take from that what you will. iykyk. their NUMBERS are FRIENDS. HERITAGE SOULMATES. joel’s been called up to play on the flyers (and did really well in the playoffs!) but we’re still waitin’ for morgan to come along too but the coaching staff hasn’t recognised the raw power of true love yet so.

at this point, you’re probably saying “sasha shut up about their fucking numbers and talk about why they’re obsessed with each other” but good news! i do not need to do that because the official flyers media has done that for me! (x) i’d recommend watching it because it’s a lot packed into a neat 100 seconds, but notable moments include the voice over saying “joel farabee and morgan frost have found that going at it together has its benefits” within the first thirty seconds. that is a real direct quote. i can’t believe it either. there’s also a lot of light homoerotic bonding over playing chel, them sitting across from each other  on their beds, the admission of being ROOMMATES (oh my god they were roommates), this shot of them sitting with their mouths wide open on either side of their dad,

and also joel wearing a hat with a canadian maple leaf on it, despite being from the the united states. wonder where he got that from. please watch the video.

when they’re not playing chel or, you know, going at it together, they’re being horny in each other’s instagram comments. there’s honestly.... so many of these that i can include but we’re just gonna go with my favourites.

when i say i think about this comment on a picture of morgan with isaac ratcliffe, a fellow flyers prospect on a daily basis, i mean it. i’ll be just doing my thing, minding my own business, and MORGAN MAKES ME VENMO HIM JUST TO TALK will pop into my head, completely uninvited. king shit for morgan to do and king shit for joel to admit on social media for the world to see, but joel admitting things he maybe shouldn’t is a running theme. 

cool. TOTALLY not flirting or anything.

joel. also both their exhibitionist streaks should be explored in fic more i am JUST sayin.

ok but bee you were lookin. like you can chirp but you were lookin, don’t lie. 

when ur in love with ur roommate but ur both hockey players so u can only communicate that love via chirping when he’s with the boys :(

what’s it called when you vibe really well with someone and also live with them and also comment on their shirtlessness and also maybe kiss them on the mouth a little? d... da... dating?? can’t be it.

morgan is a little more composed in the comments and mostly just posts inside jokes i cannot comprehend, or compliments. it’s still cute.

this was on a playoffs pic where joel’s wearing #28 love 2 see it love a supportive boyf always

this one was of joel with a fish he caught and i’m sorry but i did not want it on my phone.

but morgan can’t hide his affection for long. (me, in the distance: TWENTY EIGHT TWENTY EIGHT TWENTY EIGHT!!!!!!!)

there’s more comments but they’re boring and this is long, mostly joel chirping  morgan for wearing baseball or football stuff. however! they are also on twitter where they keep each other humble after incredible goals, like bros do,

this is DEFINITELY flirting. like, blatant. it’s like that kind of flirting when you’re thirteen and you don’t know what to do with your body so you just kinda steal your crush’s stuff or insult them because all attention is good attention, right??

but when push comes to shove, beezy is always gonna look out for his boy (because they are in love):

some important pictures of them together, for your pleasure: 

this is so DUMB and i love it

friends supporting friends!!!

this is them meeting their hockey dads :) so cute :) joel is promising g that he’ll have morgan back by ten yessir he will be respectful of boundaries and curfew. jake is high fiving morgan on getting some. this is facts i just call em like i see em.

and finally!

is this allowed?????  is this allowed???? it’s hard to tell but i’m pretty sure that’s joel on his knees for in front of morgan and i just??? how is that allowed???? it’s been five days and this picture has RUINED me. someone write me an essay to have on my desk by morning, stat.

also v unrelated but here is a video of morgan frost reading, proving he’s the smart one in the relationship. that’s not saying much but, hey! at least there’s proof he can read.

obviously different ships capture people in different ways but there’s something about them to me, personally, that is just so captivating. there’s a lot of potential for different fic vibes, and joel in particular always has a really fun voice to read (and also to write). they definitely have chemistry, they’re pitted against each other so there’s a good-natured rivalry going on, CLOTHES SHARING AND HERITAGE SOULMATE NUMBERS, and, like, they just genuinely seem to enjoy each other. someone PLEASE write more fic for them or by god i’ll have to do it myself.

ok that’s everything for now, i believe. they’re in love and don’t care who knows it and i’m obsessed. (however, i’m also obsessed with joel farabee and andrei svechnikov together, for which i have a one-picture argument for here.)

(p.s. anything not linked i screenshotted myself thank youuu for reading have a good day and remember: morgan makes joel vemno him just to talk 😌)

edit: hello. i wrote this on election night as a way to take off the edge of my nerves and it is not as funny or screechy as i wanted it to be so i’m going to add some now.  

[bi-naesala]

Fox isn’t surprised when he finds someone inside his shitty apartment when he opens the door, not when that someone is Thorn, since he had insisted he gave him and the rest of the Guard - or former Guard you should say - squad a key to it, just as a security measure since he insists on living alone and barely contacts them.

He just went out that day to get some groceries - yes, now instead of guarding assholes for life he just does mundane things like that one - but still, he could’ve warned him that he was going to come.

“Hey, Fox!” he says, smiling warmly at him. Even as the war went on, that smile has never lost its particular shine. How he managed is still a mystery to Fox.

“Thorn,” the other greets him, stepping inside. Despite everything he can’t help an amused huff seeing Thorn all comfortable on his couch. “I see you’ve made yourself at home already.”

“Well, you know, since I was all alone in here…” Thorn replies, before getting up and dragging Fox into a hug. “I’ve missed you, vod.”

Fox doesn’t like how easily he melts at the contact, but by now he’s gotten used to it. He receives so little physical affection that when he actually does it’s so intense that he almost cries - almost.

“I’ve missed you too.”

 Since he’s there, Thorn makes himself useful by helping him with the groceries, putting them in the places they belong to.

“So… wanna come to 79’s later?” he asks, closing the fridge but not before taking a bottle of water and drink it like this was his home and he could do anything he wants with no repercussions. It’s all Fox’s fault: he let him get away with it at first in the name of hospitality, and now it’s gotten out of control. Oh well, it’s not like he can order him to stop now - he doesn’t have a rank anymore.

A sigh leaves his lips then. This isn’t the first time Thorn has attempted something like this, but by now he should know how it’s going to end.

“No.”

 If his dry answer fazes Thorn at all, he doesn’t show any sign of it.

“Okay. How about tomorrow?”

Fox shakes his head. “No.”

Now Thorn’s enthusiasm begins to look a bit deflated, but he still doesn’t lose hope.

“Would you like to come any day this week?”

“No.”

This time a sigh leaves Thorn’s lips.

“Alright maybe let’s not go to 79’s,” he says, “How about somewhere else? Dex? You used to love Dex! Or we could go to this nice place Thire told me about--”

“Thorn.”

“Yes?”

“I’m not coming.” Fox gestures to the other. “If you want to have fun go, I’m not stopping you. Just leave me out of it.”

Thorn takes a deep breath.

“Why are you so determined to be stuck in your little hole?!” he asks, exasperation overflowing at every word, “You have the right to have a life! Nobody’s going to deny you that anymore!”

Unlike Thorn, Fox isn’t a fool; he knows that his situation is not as easy as he makes it out to be: even if the Clones Rights Bill has been approved, it’ll take some time before the rest of the galaxy will see them as actual people, and Fox himself isn’t also exactly loved by his vode.

He doesn’t blame them: he was the one who raised his blaster against one of his own; he didn’t kill him only because he had missed his heart by a small margin.

If he wasn’t exactly well-loved before - it goes with being a Corrie, as they called it - from that point on he became absolutely hated. He doesn’t blame them nor he tries to justify himself, even as he has to admit he doesn’t have many memories of that day in the first place; still, he’s not a coward and he refuses to hide behind such a pathetic excuse.

 The thing is this: Fox doesn’t belong anywhere anymore; he knows there isn’t a place in which he’s welcome.

It’s fine, solitude isn’t that bad, even if it wasn’t supposed to be part of any of their lives, but he’s gotten used to it.

Besides…

 “I do get out. In fact, I just came home after I got out.” It’s a weak retort, but someone has to make that point. As expected in fact, Thorn’s completely unimpressed with that comeback.

“Grocery shopping doesn’t count.”

“Not just that,” Fox weakly mutters.

He’s not lying though! Two days ago he got out to meet with Bly! Sure, they have avoided going to 79’s or any other clone created space, but they still saw each other, they still went for a walk, they still talked, they still acted like friends.

Of his old batch, Bly is the one Fox sees most; it used to be Ponds, but then… Fox doesn’t want to think about that. Apparently Bly has forgotten that his brothers can take care of themselves and has the need to be act like a mother even when that’s totally unnecessary - nevermind how relieved Fox feels when he comes visiting, that’s totally unrelated.

With Wolffe he mostly speaks via comms; they guy is still so busy trying to find a place for the Wolfpack, and although Fox doesn’t blame him - he would’ve done the same for the Guard - he’s glad that his men managed to find it on their own.

Hell, even Cody makes himself known from time to time, even though it’s mostly by sending holos from his most recent travels - yes, he always said that he wanted to explore the galaxy after the war, and now the son of a bantha is truly doing it.

Excluding his batch, the only people that remember his existence are Stone and Thire, who make a point to visit when they can, and Thorn, who is the one who bothers him most often.

 No matter how you put it, in the end Fox is very much alone.

It’s just self-preservation, nothing more nothing less, really: the Coruscant Guard has always been in a weird spot, because they’ve been looked down by the majority of the vode for not fighting frontline.

Now, with the discovery of Palpatine’s true identity, things have only gotten worse because they’ve been suspected of working with him, as if they haven’t been simply other pawns for him to manipulate. Not that they have ever been accused directly - except from some drunk vod at 79’s - but it was easy drawing conclusions with the way they were looked at, or the general distrust that the vode reserved them, like they could still be working against them.

At least Fox has managed to shift the blame around so that instead of “the Guard worked with Palpatine” people go around saying that only Fox did. His reputation is already damaged beyond repair, so why not? At least the others will get that second chance at life that he knows he wouldn’t get either way.

Deep down, very deep down, he envies them, because they truly are free, unlike him, who will be chained to his past crimes until the day he dies and probably even after - he shivers just thinking about how he’ll be remembered by the future generation, if he’ll be remembered at all.

Still, it all becomes meaningless in front of the pure joy he feels when they narrate him the last shenanigans they get themselves involved in. They are truly free and happy now, and Fox is happy for them.

 … If sometimes he wishes their places were switched, that he was the one who could live freely as his heart desires, well, that’s something only for him to know and keep secret.

Sometimes he thought about confiding in Thorn, the only one he’d ever consider burdening with this stuff, but every time he decides to do he quickly changes his mind; it’s not worth it.

Now more than ever he wants to scream, not even at Thorn in particular, just scream, as if all his anguish and problems would disappear just with that. It would be too good to be true

It’s not that he doesn’t want to get out, it’s just that he can’t. It’s not safe, it’s not…

He’s afraid of all the stares he’d get, of all the words that would be thrown at him. Normally it wouldn’t phase him - he’s used to it - but day by day he’s becoming more susceptible to his emotions again; it almost makes him miss that time when he was so detached to seem almost a droid. At least he could get things done back then, not like now that he has to mentally prepare himself to go out at least one day before.

 At least now he’s free, however, isn’t he?

Technically he could go wherever he wants, could do whatever he wants, if only… No, he can’t. People wouldn’t be happy to have him around.

 Thorn tries again. He’s gotten so close to Fox that if he was someone else Fox would’ve already tried to put some distance between them, but with Thorn he’s used to it.

“Fox, what’s wrong?”

“I can’t. I--” Kark, his voice is breaking.

“Nobody’s stopping you. In fact, the only one stopping you is yourself, trust me,” Thorn reassures him. “I know you still feel guilty, but most vode have gotten over it. In the end we were all in a shitty situation. Besides, you did hesitate in the end, didn’t you? That’s why Fives is still alive and why we discovered who the Sith Lord was.”

What Thorn is saying makes sense, but this doesn’t mean that it’s easy for Fox to accept it; after so much time spent with self-hatred as his only constant companion, he can’t act like he never thought any bad things about himself. Besides, he doubts the rest of the vode really have forgiven him.

Still, Thorn wouldn’t lie about this, because as much as the fool still insists on wanting to cheer him up, he knows that he won’t accomplish anything by telling lies - actually, he’d make things even worse - and there’s still the fact that deep down Fox wants to leave his place, wants to do something with his life, but… it’s scary.

 “Even if I decide to leave, it’ll take time before I can organize anything,” he says, because it’s so much easier saying that rather than to admit that he’s the one who needs time.

These last months have been hard for everybody, but nobody talks about how especially hard they’ve been for Fox. He’s just so tired of everything.

Yes, that’s it, he’s tired. If he could he’d disappear without leaving any trace, but he knows that if he does someone would come searching for him; in the end there are some people that care about him, but at this point Fox wishes they didn’t because it would make his situation easier: he wouldn’t hold onto that love he still scarcely receives anymore, he wouldn’t suffer because it’s still so little.

Whose fault is that anyway? It’s his. It’s him the one who keeps pushing people away. It’s just that he craves and hates the attention at the same time, a contradiction that he still hasn’t sorted out.

 He’s so focused on trying not to lose it in front of Thorn that he barely notices him moving them to the couch. He does feel it however when he closes his arms around him, when he kisses his forehead, when he says that it’s fine, that it’s ok, that he’s safe.

Fox has gone so long without allowing this kind of softness in his life, but damn he missed it. If he began to let people closer again it might happen more often, but how is he supposed to do it?

 He doesn’t know how much time passes before he gathers enough strength to speak. He won’t lie: staying like this almost makes him want to curl into a ball and fall asleep in the security of Thorn’s arms, but it’s something that Fox would rather avoid, at least for now. Maybe in the future he might be able to let go and actually do it.

“I want to leave,” he eventually says.

“Leave to where?” Thorn asks.

“I don’t know, but I want to travel.”

“We can do that,” Thorn replies, smiling at Fox, “We can do whatever we want.”

Yes it’s true, they can…

“You think Thire and Stone would want to come? It would be nice having the squad back together.”

“I’m sure they’d love it.”

Fox doesn’t know if Thorn’s actually right, but it’s reassuring to hear him say that.

 For now he’ll bask in his brother’s warmth for a bit longer. They can plan another time - there’s no rush after all.

The idea of the outside isn’t something he’s still entirely comfortable with, but Fox would also be lying if he said that he isn’t looking forward to exploring it. Coruscant is pretty and all… but he’s grown tired of it.

He might still not have found his place in the new word, but who knows, maybe there’s hope for him yet.

[fallenrepublick]

Bruh, y’all reading my mind with this crosshair stuff. I’ve got a (Jedi) OC going already and I swear, y’all’s super in line with how I picture him.

He’s definitely the kind of guy to be non-verbal about his affections (long looks or smirks) but when he does speak, his words are simple, but mean a lot coming from him. Stuff like “nice shot.” Or “not too bad.” He’s also a teaser, I feel, with his dry, sarcastic sense of humor. He wants someone who can verbally spar with him; not necessarily confrontational, but who’s quick on their feet and can meet his quips and jabs in stride. I would like to think too he’s fiercely loyal and protective of his partners once he’s in a committed relationship. And also physically affectionate. He’s always gotta have a hand somewhere on your body, or at least in close proximity to you.

It’s easy to imagine him in a relationship. The hardest part is figuring out how he’d get there. Given how cynical and closed off he can be, his threshold I feel is high for admitting he has feelings for a future SO, and the threshold of admitting those feelings to them is even higher. I suppose my question is, what do you think about how Crosshair would go about getting into a relationship? Is he an all at once, the dam breaks and he’s just all over you? Or is it a more subtle, timid testing of the waters and waiting for you to make the first move? Or even something else completely unrelated?

And what would his tells be for when he is in a relationship for the rest of the Bad Batch? With how tight knit they all are, i just know there’d be things that would give each of them away once they end up in a relationship.

(My lord, I meant for this to be a quick ask, got out of hand pretty quickly lol. I’ve been having a lottt of Crosshair thoughts recently. Btw I’ve been following your blog for a while and have always loved your Thrawn/Maul content. You’ve always got the best headcanons for those boys.)

*cracks knuckles* OKAY SO-

How he actually enters the relationship?

It’s an accident.

It has to be during a mission, that much is for sure. You don’t necessarily have to be participating in it, though you can. Maybe you tagged along as backup, maybe you’re part of evac, as this is your home planet. Regardless, it doesn’t matter the actual scenario.

But things like this are rarely easy, which is why they called in the batch, needing specialised people to do the hardest of tasks. We all know Cross likes to go off alone, as he does yet again to reach more visible ground. Only, he looks down to see... you. Either in the process of moving civilians out or finishing off a handful of droids, your back is turned for that crucial split second between life and death. A quick shot right before disaster and he’s already on his way down, ignoring for now his brothers right around the corner.

“Thanks,” you say, still slightly distracted. He’s clearly annoyed, but what else is new.

“Be more careful,” he orders in that tone of voice.

You smile at him regardless, “It’s not a big deal. And you got it, anyways.”

“It is a big deal, you know I’d die if anything happened to you-”

Guess who doesn’t think before he speaks! That’s right, it’s this idiot.

But once he’s actually in the relationship, it doesn’t take long for the others to figure it out. For one thing, he isn’t subtle about his crush. He thinks he is, but he’s not. So already, the crew has a pretty good idea of what’s up in that head of his.

But his demeanor changes once it’s gone beyond a crush. He seems to less be working on a constant problem and more so drifting away in his own thoughts. He can clean and adjust his rifle on autopilot anyways, so he spends the time basically daydreaming, some far off, even slightly bewildered look on his face that requires a knock on the shoulder to snap him out of.

What’s more, he disappears for longer periods of time from the rest of the group. He’s one that needs time alone, sure. But usually people can find him. Now, there are hours where he’s simply gone without a trace. And when he comes back? He’s... happy. Or... as happy as he can be. How odd.

And he carries an air of pride around him. No, not the kind he usually does, with his cocky, better-than-you attitude to make-up for how he actually feels. But rather, a calmer, more pleasant type of pride, the kind you’d see from someone who just made the best decision of their life.

The worst of all. Someone said your name when he was in the middle of a shot. He missed.

[lollytea]

Fearless (part 2/3)

( PART ONE okokok some parts of this are pretty good. some not so good. but the important part is im tryin my goddamn best out here.)

[OCTOBER 22ND, 7:02PM] The sun had melted away beneath the distant hills and Louie had somewhat calmed himself down.

At least, he was no longer hyperventilating. The feathery tufts on his cheeks were not as fluffy as before, now clumped together from his waterworks earlier. 

He lit the last of his lights, drawing the match away and allowed the head of the flame to seize its last moments. It danced with delight, flickering as it devoured the thin strand of poplar wood.

Louie watched it too long, finding solace in the glow of gentle orange. Just as it was teasing to taste his fingertips, he snuffed it out, not nearly as interested in the arising string of pale smoke. Seven illuminated oil lamps circled his room, washing him in warm, yellow light. But still, It would breed an array of shadows, outlining everything with subtle pools of gloom. Shadows made Louie uneasy. They gave him the strangest feeling that he was being watched. Reminded him of people and powers that were best not to think about. But a shadowy room was preferable to pitch black. He was scared of the dark. Come to think of it, he was scared of a lot of things. Louie had a complicated relationship with fear. He was, by no means, the skittish kid from five years ago. He simply couldn't live with that mindset for long when thrust into the life of McDuck royalty and all the madness and danger attached. So, he adapted. His busiest days tended to fall in the order of breakfast, adventure, magic, certain doom, barely escaping with your life and then sleep. Rinse and repeat. Living like that didn't phase him much anymore. How could it when he was surrounded by the most courageous family put on this earth? And when you continue to survive when that was your Day-to-Day, it had a tendency to boost your confidence. He had gotten braver for sure. Much braver. And yet, he couldn't help but feel like he was lying to himself sometimes. Being afraid of the world around him had never quite faded, he just gotten much better at handling it. Recent years made things all the more messy. His brothers weren't as brave as they used to be these days. Not after what they went through. As a spot of hope, Huey was starting to rebuild a stronger, improved version of his old self. But Dewey still needed time. It made Louie wonder if his intrepid brothers could be broken like this, should he even bother trying to toughen up? He had never been like them. Not naturally, at least. He didn't stand a chance when his time came. He figured that with all he's experienced, he should've at least developed past his more irrational fears. But he didn't.  Deep down, silly stuff still unsettled him. Spiders, violence, surprises. The dark. Ty knew he was afraid of the dark. Ty knew most of the stuff he was afraid of. And despite teasing Louie for pretty much everything else, never his fears. He claimed his brother was the same so he didn't find it all that weird. Louie called bullshit on that one. From what little he knew about Ben, it was impossible to picture that guy being scared of the dark. Ty was most likely trying to ease his insecurity. It didn't work. He felt uncomfortable sometimes, being somebody scared of so much, being close with somebody like Ty. Fearless. It sorta made him wonder if he was inferior. As if standing alongside Ty just wasn't right. The balance didn't seem equal. Wow. Louie was never gonna be good enough, was he?   Wait, no, stop it. Fucking stop it. He had no right to be feeling all sorry for himself for the probability that he wasn't good enough for Ty. On the grounds that he wasn't brave enough? No. Of course Louie wasn't good enough for Ty. That was an irrefutable fact. But what mattered right now was that his carelessness had almost gotten Ty killed today and he couldn't, in good conscience, be focusing on anything else. He almost got Ty killed. He almost got Ty killed. He almost got Ty killed. That was a little more important than "Boohoo, cute bear boy is never gonna kiss me. I'm sad." To make matters worse, Louie had gone and chosen the perfect time to figure out he was in love with Ty. Sure, It had left him happily dopey at the time. But now, after everything that happened, it was like his imaginary little love letter left a paper cut on his heart and splashed it with lemon juice. Ty was going to resign as his retainer. The more Louie said this to himself, the easier it would be to accept it when he received the news. It was truly possible Ty was currently out of his life for good. As much as Louie was trying to talk himself into hunting the boy down right this minute and begging for forgiveness, there was a part of him speculating that Ty would prefer not to see his stupid royal face ever again. It hurt. It really did hurt. But if that's what Ty wanted, Louie would silently abide by the request. He hated to admit it but the spineless side of him didn't want to face Ty either. The last look at him had been his still body laying on an iron bedstead in the castle infirmary. Beakley had assured the stricken Louie that Ty was not dead but refused to divulge the details as she ushered him out and exiled him to his room for the rest of the night. He needed to see Ty conscious. He needed to see him alive. It would be one weight off his chest just to know his retainer had bounced back. But also.....he didn't want to know the damage he'd done. He want to know how badly Ty had been wounded nor how close he had brushed by death. It had been Louie's fault. And he knew that. But the thought of confronting it head-on was a difficult reality to swallow. Even though he should. He should. Completely unrelated but another dumb, embarrassing thing that made him jump out of his skin? Sudden noises. Still completely unrelated but there was a knock at his door.

___________

[OCTOBER 22ND, 11:24AM]

The sky was clear, the autumn air wasn't chilly but pleasantly crisp and there was a lively gathering in the forest. It was held in a wide clearing, bursting with happy people, milling around and chatting. Surrounding them was an almost perfect circle of tangled old oaks, their branches wreathed with strings of homemade lanterns and flower garlands. 

Ty and Louie were quick to turn on tunnel vision towards the table with a large arrangement of party food. They came away with armfuls of bread, cheese, fruits and two tankards of apple cider. They found a spot for themselves, hiding away behind a stack of bailed hay just on the outskirts of the festivities. They set up their little feast, which they wasted no time in devouring. 

There were minstrels playing a vibrant tune. But even with all their flutes, fiddles and practice, they fell short in comparison to the natural music of Ty Cloudkicker's laughter. Louie was talking fast. He was gravitating into Ty's space as he did so, lured in by the bubbling sound. He was eager, grinning deliriously as he spouted out more and more of his story to keep the laugh from fading.

As if it was a lifeline. Like the back of his mind was utterly terrified it would stop. Yet he was entranced with a flood with endorphins, so enamored with the resonance that he couldn't help but be elated as he rattled on to keep himself alive. "Okay, so nobody specifically told Uncle Donald that keeping snacks in your crown was not considered "Kingly" behavior. But see, he just saw it as an extra pocket. He didn't get what the big deal was." 

When Ty laughed hard enough, he started snorting. He attempted to control himself. Louie wished he wouldn't. "So imagine being one of those advisor buzzard dorks, right? And you're having this big, important royal audience with the new king. And then right in the middle of discussing warships or something, he reaches into his crown, (not breaking eye contact.) and starts munching on a fish sandwich. They looked at him like he just spat on their mothers' graves." The octave skyrocketed and Ty disintegrated into high pitched cackles, tightly clutching his side as if he would split in half. It swept away the narrative in Louie's head, fizzling the thought process as he continued to gaze at Ty as if he were channeling golden light. However, his brain did not send the memo to this mouth that it was time to stop talking. Which led to Louie stuttering out "And the--....He--...uh, he--,um...." a brainless smile slapped on his face all the while. He couldn't stop smiling. He was crashing and burning and he couldn't stop smiling. He was certain he would be humiliated over this blunder later but right now, it was pretty funny. Thankfully, his subconscious had mercy on him, cutting him off with a nervous, breathless giggle. Ty was oblivious to whatever kind of gay breakdown Louie was having as he was trying to regain composure from his own hysterics. He was beginning to calm down, occasional wheezy yet delighted noises still sputtering out of him. His shoulders relaxed and he leaned back with a shaky exhale, still stuck with that huge sunny smile. They fell into a silence in the aftermath, content to sit and just listen to the music. Ty picked up his cider and took a gulp. Louie mirrored him. Then Ty's entire frame bucked with a surprise hiccup and Louie nearly choked. He was pretty sure he saw his whole life flash before his eyes as he collapsed into a coughing fit, Ty thumping him firmly on the back. "I'll live, I'll live!" Louie gasped, regaining himself. "Stop hitting me, I bruise like a peach." "Sorry." He drew his hand away. Then he hiccuped again and Louie lost it. "It's not funny!" Ty insisted, a desperate crack to his voice. It was pretty hilarious, actually. Not just the ridiculous little noises, but the way his shoulders jumped and how he would blink in split second afterwards, startled and bewildered like a baby animal. Ty gave him a shove, Louie still snickering and flailing his hands to halfheartedly fend him off. "Hey, hey, what gives you the right to attack me? I nearly choked and died 'cause of you." "Sounds like a "you" problem." "Where'd those hiccups even come from? Your papa bear never teach you not to drink your cider so fast?" Ty's bottom lip jutted out, irritated. He shook his head "Nah, it's--" Hic. Louie snorted. "Shut up!" He snapped. Yeah, his face was definitely a darker shade of pink than usual. "Sometimes I get hiccups if I laugh too much." "Huh. that's a thing that can happen?" "Yeah. A thing I gotta live with." Hic. "Lemme guess, this hasn't happened in a while?" "Huh?" Ty turned to him, perplexed. "Nah, it happens all the time. And when I tell ya it's the most annoying thing--" "You can't be serious." Louie smiled with a disbelieving shake of the head. "You, like, barely laugh anymore." "What's that supposed to mean?" "What?" He shrugged. "You don't." Ty rolled his eyes and directed his vision elsewhere. "I usually do whenever I go back to the glen." "Are Ben and Lottie really that funny?" "They are the least funny people I know. Also they suck and they're cheaters and I hate them." Hic. Let's see. So, he was clearly pouting. Acting all petty about his siblings. The Glen. Laughing to the point of hiccups. "Lots of tickle fights, huh?" Louie deduced, a smirk playing across his beak. Ty considered him for a moment, as if he was thinking about decking him right then and there but ultimately decided it wasn't worth the effort. (Louie was offended.) He then looked off into the distance, an indescribably haunted look in his eye. "Soooo....I'm gonna guess you usually lose the tickle fi--?" "I do not!" Ty abruptly yelled, shooting him an indignant look. "Let's get this straight, if it's one-on-one, I win. I always win. You better not forget that, your highness." He jabbed Louie's chest with his forefinger. "I'm the best fighter out of the three of us. In fact, I probably got the potential to be the best fighter in the whole kingdom!" "Real modest." "It's just if they team up, then it's unfair! That's why they're--" Hic. Louie watched, delightfully entertained as Ty hissed "God. Damn. Hiccups." "And how often do they team up?" He didn't answer right away. Then reluctantly grumbled "Most of the time." "So what I'm hearing is--...." Louie casually leaned against Ty's side, propping his elbow on the latter's shoulder.  "You do lose most of the time?" "Shut up." "No." "Okay, so here's the thing. Let's say you're a big, strong brave knight. You're super cool and heroic and everybody respects you." Hic. "Then you go back home and then suddenly you're just someone else's baby brother and they see you just standing there, minding your business and they're just like "Well! Guess I gotta obliterate him!" And they do not hold back." "Ohhhhh, I get that, I totally get that." Said Louie. "Well, not the brave knight part. But y'know. Me and my brothers had to share a room. It was tiny. There was always a foot in your face or whatever. And sometimes when were bored, they started getting rowdy and throwing hands and it's not like I asked but I got dragged in too. When I was just trying to sleep, man! I wasn't asking for a spontaneous duel at 2am." Ty snorted. "Oh yeah, and sometimes Dewey calls me a little bitch." "He's right." Louie knocked his body against Ty's, making a sound of faux outrage. Ty only found that funnier. Huffing, Louie pawed around for the cluster of grapes at his side. He twisted one free and twirled it around his fingers for a moment. "Watch this. I can feel it. I'm gonna do it this time." "Are you now?" Said Ty in such a distinctly pleasant tone that Louie could not possibly interpret it any other way than "I do not believe that but I'm humoring you but I also want you to understand that my sweet voice is oh, so bitterly sarcastic. Fuck you." "I see you're doubting me." "Me? Doubt my liege? I could never." "Yeah, yeah, yeah, you're a real court jester. Now shut up and observe." Louie wiped all expression from his face and inhaled deeply to obtain peak tranquility. He relaxed his whole frame. If he could pull this off, this would be his day for sure. Ty was watching. This moment would define his life. Thinking a hasty prayer to every known God, force and entity  that had ever favored the unlikely ones, he tossed the grape in the air, threw his head back and opened his beak. The grape finished rising and gravity took control. It fell. Down, down, down, down. Louie now understood the concept of meditation. He was so in the zone, he could've sworn the grape was descending in slow motion. Yes, yes, it was aligning directly below his beak. He was gonna catch it! Down, down, down, down. Then Ty snatched it right out of the air and swallowed it whole. Louie sat, slack jawed, attempting to process what had just happened. He slowly turned to Ty, completely blank. Huh. That moment really did define his life. "You bastard!" He squawked. "Me bastard!" Ty exclaimed, looking insufferably proud of himself. "How could you?! I know our allyship has been complicated but this is high treason!" "Sorry, sorry, I just--" He sat back a little, shaking with silent laughter. He then formed a square with his hands and hovered it before Louie, squinting one eye. "I just needed to see the face you would make and god, it was worth it. You think you could hold that face for a few hours to get a portrait made? I'd get it framed and hang it in my room." He was teasing him. Louie knew he was teasing him. And yet he still blushed bright red from the fragment of fondness blurred in the implication. "W-well, well I would--I'd--" He floundered, racking his brain for a retort. "You think there's any musical instruments that could replicate your dorky little hiccups? I'd hire minstrels just to have them play it for me! Y'know, for when I need a laugh." Ty's smug grin dropped and his eyes flicked about uncertainly. "I--..." He dragged the word out, face flushing at a rapid rate as he folded his knees up to curl in on himself. He crossed his arms. "I think they're gone now anyway." He mumbled. Hic. God, that never got old. "If you laugh one more time, I'm putting you in a tree and leaving you there." Louie laughed again, out of spite. "Nobody's fault but your own. Imagine you've just fought an epic battle and you think there's no more enemies to take on. But as soon as you say that out loud, boom! Second ambush! You would think a warrior like you would get that." "Your highness?" "Yeah?" "Shut your huge mouth." "No." "Okay. Dunno why I thought that would work. Never does." "Y'know I would offer to spook your hiccups away. But we both know that wouldn't work." "Yeah, probably not." Said Ty with a shake of his head. He perked up a bit. "Lottie gave it a shot once. Nothing." "Well, it's just like you said that one time." Louie shrugged, then faltered when the back of his mind took notice of the dimly glowing orange irises he was met with. His voice softened involuntarily. "You're fearless." He didn't know what he said wrong. Ty's face fell. He looked so utterly devastated that Louie, completely lost to why he was even upset, felt his own heart shatter to pieces. He wanted to start sobbing just from seeing him. "Oh..." Ty whispered. He clutched one of his hands with the other and began fidgeting with his fingers. "Well, see. Uh, the thing about that is--...." Concerned, Louie scooched in closer, peering at the face that had once again turned away from him. He hesitantly touched Ty's upper arm. "Hey. Ty. Are you--?" "HEY, LOOK AT THAT!" Ty blurted out, his voice nervously rising in pitch. He attempted to subtly clear his throat. Louie followed the direction of Ty's pointer finger which was gesturing out to the thick expanse of forestry. There was nothing there. But then he caught a flash of movement and noticed two figures tucked away in the shadows of the trees. A young man and woman, probably only a few years older than them. "The couple?" Louie asked, puzzled. "The what now?" Then Ty did a double take, then snapped to attention as if he had just noticed them. "Oh! Oh, yeah, them, sure. I mean, yeah, that's what I meant. Them. Uhhh....look at them!" "Uh. Okay? Why?" "Theeeyyyy're....cute? Gross? They're something. They're definitely something." Louie hummed, taking the two into consideration. The girl was letting out a peal of laughter and the guy was blabbing away animatedly, looking thrilled with himself that she was finding him funny. He was trying so hard.... Louie didn't know if he wanted to gag or coo out an "aww!" "Grossly cute." He decided. Ty snapped his fingers. "That's it!" "You know, I don't get why they're over there. There's tons of people around here. Why would you wanna show up to a party if you're just gonna hide away and hang out with one person the whole time?" "For real though." For the next few minutes, Ty and Louie observed the couple, keeping up a running commentary on the guy's obvious nerves and the girl's less than subtle advances. Ty and Louie learned a lot about themselves in those few minutes. Namely that they were both terrible at lip reading. "He said Pants." Ty was certain. "No, he said Nance." Louie countered. "Her name is probably Nancy." The girl clapped her hands together, nodding eagerly. "Then what's that for, huh? Clearly he just offered to tailor her a personalized pair of pants." "You are so dumb, that's not what's happening here at all." The guy took a dramatic step back and twirled his wrist an unnecessary amount of times before offering her his hand with a half-bow. She took it, giggling. The two them scampered off, out of the shadows and into the heart of the party, where other couples were twirling around as the minstrels played. He curled an arm around her waist, smiling as though this was his greatest honor and they spun into the motion, flowing so naturally amidst the other dancers as if they were simply another cogwheel in the world's most elegant clock. "Dance." Said Ty and Louie in unison. "Pretty sure we were close." "Pretty sure we're idiots." "Yeah, I know but just let me pretend." Ty suddenly snickered, his eyes glinting. "What was that thing he did with his hand anyway? And why did she eat it up?" "It's called flair, Tiberius." "Kinda dumb." "You're just mad that flair is not something you possess." "Bullshit, watch this!" Ty sat up straight and bent his arm into a perfect ninety-degree angle. "Prepare to be amazed." And then his entire forearm began to spin and spin and spin and spin and spin like a windmill in a hurricane. "Flair, flair, flair, flair," He was chanting and Louie had already collapsed in a giggle fit. It wasn't even remotely funny. It was dumb, it was so dumb. But Louie could admit to himself that dumb schticks get like ninety percent more humorous to him if there's a really cute boy performing them. He was easy like that. Ty was extremely committed to the joke as he kept spinning and spinning for over ten seconds. He kept shooting Louie glances and his grin got wider and wider every time he looked away. "FLAIR!" He let his arm go, throwing out an open palm and nearly knocked it against the side of Louie's head. "Hey!" He dodged. "Watch where you swing that thing, you could've whacked me!" "But I didn't!" Said Ty gleefully. He lowered his hand but did not withdraw. It remained unwavering and offered out to Louie. He took it. He didn't think, he just took it. It was only when they made contact that Louie woke up and his heart promptly spiked. But besides a light blush, he managed to keep his face neutral. "So, I guess it's not just that girl who's impressed by this stuff." Ty was nonchalant. His smile then twitched, as if aching to stretch wider but he was reigning it in. "You are too." They were still touching, which, by all accounts, should continue to fluster Louie. But as seconds ticked by, a sense of calm was settling over him. The very thing originally causing panic was now bringing him comfort. It was the weirdest thing, "I was laughing at you, not with you." He said evenly, catching Ty's contagious smile. "Ehh," He shrugged. "I'll take it." Louie would count this as a new domain for sure. Uncharted waters. As if he and Ty had stumbled in accidentally but now they were here, their curiosity was urging them to explore. Not to a dangerous extent, of course. But maybe just edge along the sidelines and see what they could discover. "Your hands are so tiny, it's crazy." Ty commented, tilting his head. Turning it over, he slid his thumb thoughtfully across Louie's palm. "How do you even hold anything?" Louie wasn't even eyeing their hands but was regarding Ty's pensive face. "It's kinda the worst. Whenever we find treasure and I get my cut, the fancy rings and bracelets are huge. I always gotta go to a jeweler and get them resized if I wanna wear them."' Ty was fiddling with Louie's fingers now, fixing him with a decisive nod. "I'll get you a ring for Christmas." "Woah, woah. For real?" "Yeah. I'll put it in one of those fancy boxes. But then you'll open it and see it's made out of grass and try to have me beheaded." As they were speaking, their hands continued to play around. Ty had flattened his own, aligning his palm against Louie's. Louie spread his fingers and Ty laced his through. "Uncle Donald says I'm not allowed to say "Off with his head" anymore or I'm grounded 'til I'm thirty-five. It "makes the people want to revolt."" Louie air-quoted with his free hand. "But I would fire you for sure." Ty snorted. "You would not and you know it." There would never be any proof that they held hands that day. Not a single eye witnesses, including themselves, as both boys had turned a blind eye to their own actions. They were afraid to look down, as that would be an acknowledgement. Louie had no mental image of the moment, fuschia fur intertwined with snow feathers, only a rush of heat and a hazy ponder if the dampness was his sweat or Ty's. And if the feel of Ty's touch was just an illusion of the mind, there was one poignant hint of the reality and that was how gentle their voices had gotten. "Oh, so, you're really gonna test me like that, Tiberius? Pushing me around, stealing grapes, calling me a little bitch. Is this any way to treat your liege? You don't think I'm at the end of my rope with you?" "Nahhhh...." Ty drew the word out, grinning. He twisted his muzzle into an exaggerated pout and batted his eyes. "You would never because I'm awesome and cool and smart and you love me." It was Ty's utter nerve that left Louie too astonished to even blush. Instead, he simply tilted his head, an eyebrow cocked. "Do I?" He challenged. To his credit, Ty did not relent either. However, the impishness gradually died from his eyes until he was left solemn. "Maybe?" He spoke softly, as though too much force would crack the delicate little word. He bore into Louie's eyes, like he was searching for an answer. Pleading for an answer. Louie felt his own hand squeeze Ty's. He inhaled. He knew he was going to say something, he was just leaving it up his own scattered subconscious to determine what. He would open his beak and whatever words wound up tumbling out would seal his fate. He didn't have a second to panic, to fret, as he was already speaking and he was petrified by how fast this was all going. "I--" Something shattered and a woman screamed in pain. Indistinct shouting and Ty cursed under his breath. Louie scrambled around to see the commotion and the last few things he registered were the gleam of sunlight catching unsheathed weapons, the girl he called Nancy with crimson pooling from her forehead, Ty demanding "Get down!" and knocking him stomach-down into the ground. 

“Stay there and don’t move.” Then Ty had rushed off and everything went to shit.

___________

[OCTOBER 22ND, 7:13PM] Louie was well acquainted with that knock. Firstly, one firm rap against wood, proceeded by two more rapid-fire. He associated it with a twinge of annoyance, high sun beams streaking in his window and somebody near, dear and insufferable to his heart, pestering him from the other side to rise and shine already or his breakfast would go stale. This usually occurred around 9:30AM. If given a say in the matter, Louie would sleep til noon. But he didn't have a say in the matter because every morning, without fail, there was a retainer banging down his door. Something was off this time. Once he knocked, Ty had fallen uncharacteristically silent. No continuation of drumming out an obnoxious little tune and and no insisting he open up. Louie was hesitant to do much of anything. It seemed his door was the only thing protecting him from facing repercussions right now. If he fell deep enough into denial, he could pretend Ty wasn't there. So long as he kept his door shut, he could pretend everything was alright. Ty didn't almost die. It was a tempting thought. It resounded in such an appealing voice inside his head that Louie seized his latch before he could give in. The brass shocked a chill to the pads of his fingers as he held on tight. He had to open up. He had to. His hand fidgeted, stalling the moment. He thumped his forehead against the door, heaving a steadying sigh. "You don't wanna see me, do you, your highness?" He heard Ty say in hushed tones, his voice startlingly close to where Louie had situated himself. "Ehh, if we're being honest....not really." "Oh...." "Do you wanna see me?" "I mean....I kinda don't? The idea of seeing you right now is making me nauseous." The statement skewered Louie's heart. He shook it off. "Why'd you knock?" "'Cause it doesn't matter what I want, I gotta see you right now. It's important." An prolonged pause hung in the air, buzzing with a mutual uncertainty. Louie tapped his fingers to the wood and after a second or two, Ty did the same. Their respective rhythms aligned. "But..." Ty continued, his voice faltering. "If you don't wanna see me, I can go--" "Convince me." Louie was blurting out before he thought twice about it. "Huh?" "I need to open this door but, like surprise surprise, I'm scared. You've done it before. I get scared and you talk me into stuff. Do your big strong hero magic and get me to suck it up. Please, I need it." "Oh, uh, I--" He could hear how flustered Ty had gotten suddenly being put on the spot. "Well, I--...I guess you don't have a choice 'cause if you don't open up, I'm strong enough to barricade the door down. So, I figure we should just do this the easy way." Despite the circumstances and the scruple wrung tense in his stomach, Louie felt the corner of his beak twitch at the tentative touch to Ty's tone. He felt his stiff shoulders relax. "Is that a threat, Tiberius?" "Uh, no." Ty admitted, sounding sheepish. "That was just a joke. See, it was the first thing that came into my head and then suddenly I was saying it. Sorry, I dunno for sure if now is "joke time" and I figured it'd be kinda weird to ask so--" He didn't get to finish rambling. His hair whipped to the side with the rush of air that came with the swift swing of the door. Louie fixed him with a hard look, processing the sight of his retainer standing there, alive and bright eyed. Ty's hand was still hovering awkwardly in the air, where he assumed it had been resting against the door. He blinked back at him, puzzled and a little alarmed, as if caught under a spotlight. He didn't look angry. But Louie knew better than to lull himself into thinking he was in the clear. Whatever resentment Ty was feeling would spill out in time. Louie braced himself. "Hey, Ty." He said stiffly. "Come on in."

[jpegjade]

Hang 10! - Spencer

we’ve got a fic ladies and gents! it’s not the most interesting one but it’s a fic in the middle of my crazy life. hopefully i’ll be able to more along the way. i’ve got the next one planned out and i’m gonna start writing it soon.

wheelchair reader x crutches spencer

warnings: idk none really. not much happens. v v v domestic  

________________

It was a normal Saturday for Spencer. Sitting with ice on his leg, the leg where he took a bullet only a few weeks before. He wasn’t allowed to put weight on it just yet and doctor’s orders were to keep it elevated as much as possible.

Spencer was making notes in a book he’s read a thousand times before. He liked to use his free time to read and even make notes on what the obscure quotes could mean, in and out of context. 

Out of nowhere, his phone rang. Causing him to lean over to the coffee table to grab it, he saw it was just Morgan. According to the team group chat, everyone was supposed to be at Rossi’s house, christening Rossi’s recently completed pool with burgers and drinks.

“Are you getting ready, pretty boy?” He usually didn’t call Spencer unless it was important. Spencer wondered whether this was actually important. 

“For the pool party I didn’t want to go to?” Spencer asked, putting his book on the coffee table. 

“Exactly.” Morgan exclaimed. Spencer wondered what he was up to. 

“I didn’t want to go for a specific reason. I’m supposed to be resting my leg.” Spencer sighed, looking down at the ice pack resting on his leg. 

“Your bae will be there.” Derek said, nonchalantly. 

Spencer understood what the endgame was now. It had been everyone’s endgame since the beginning. 

“I hate that word. If you want to acknowledge that it’s a word, which I do not. I much prefer another moniker to talk about y/n. I’d love something classic and timeless but fun, like they are.” Spencer blushed, realizing he said more than he should have to Morgan. 

“Ah, so pretty boy does have a huge crush on our new teammate. We suspected it but you just admitted it. Emily owes me money.” Derek chuckled. 

Grabbing the ice bag off of his leg, Spencer grabbed his crutches and put the ice bag into a bowl he laid out for himself to hold the ice when he was done. He always thought ahead because he hates cleaning up messes. 

“What do you want me to do about it? I’d like to maintain a professional relationship with them for as long as possible, thank you. Work relationships with co-workers when you’re working in such close proximity is very difficult to navigate, not to mention the statistics of getting married after meeting and working together is only as high as 31%. 69% of work relationships are more than likely to fail. Who knows what…” Spencer was anxiously moving around his apartment, going off on a tangent. 

“Reid. Hey.” Derek cut off Spencer’s train of thought. “Come downstairs. Let’s go.” 

Spencer grabbed his cardigan, slipping it on, before he and his crutches made their way to the building elevator. 

In the car, Derek was humming along to the radio while Spencer looked out the window. He was glad Derek wasn’t trying to talk to him the whole drive because he needed time to plan what he was going to say to y/n.

To everyone else, this was a simple pool party that was meant to welcome y/n onto the team while simultaneously christening Rossi’s new pool. It wasn’t a big deal because for the past few weeks, y/n had been instrumental in the cases they covered. Everyone was so excited about the new addition to the team, especially Spencer. 

To Spencer, this was a nerve racking opportunity to fail in front of y/n. Ever since their first interaction, when y/n corrected Spencer on a statistic about serial killers, Spencer was intrigued. He knew you didn’t have to have a 187 IQ or an eidetic memory to be smart but you were consistently going toe-to-toe with him on every fact, sometimes beating him to the punch. You had yet to interrupt him or even act like his tangents bothered you. In fact, a couple times, you pulled Spencer over to hear the rest of his tangent after everyone left the room. 

“Hey kid. You okay? You look like you’re going to be sick.” Derek pulled into Rossi’s driveway with a concerned look on his face. 

Spencer’s sickness wasn’t Derek’s concern. His concern was getting the smell out of his carpet once Spencer let out his stomach contents inside the car. 

Derek leaned over Spencer, putting his arm towards the door but Spencer thought he was trying to hug him in an attempt to comfort him. This was not the case. So when Spencer wrapped his arm around Derek’s torso while Derek pushed open the door, Spencer was met with a very confused look from Derek. 

“I read that wrong.” Spencer said. 

“Let’s go, kid.” Derek and Spencer climbed out of the car and walked to the door. There was no need to knock so the boys just let themselves in.

Spencer was immediately drawn to your laughter as he and Derek entered the house. Without realizing it, he started walking with his crutches to the backyard, where he saw you sitting in your wheelchair, talking to Garcia. He paused as he looked at you, taking in how nice you looked in the setting sunlight. You weren’t guarded like you were at work but you weren’t relaxed either. It looked like you were on edge but there was something so calming about you that his nerves seemed to disappear almost completely. 

“Boy wonder is on his feet!” Garcia said, noticing Spencer standing in the backyard doorway. 

Spencer watched as your smile shrunk before you looked in his direction. He wanted to look away but when he saw your smile grow as you waved at him, his hand waved just slightly. So many thoughts ran through his head about you at once that he couldn’t decipher which thought he wanted to focus on. 

Garcia waved him over to you before winking and leaving. Spencer looked at you as you squinted daggers into the back of Garcia’s head. 

“I like the embellishments.” Spencer said, looking at your wheelchair. 

You tilted your head as you looked at Spencer in confusion before you remembered: Penelope bought you some badass clips for your wheels. They were incredibly small but they were just noticeable. They looked like the clips you would put on your bike in the 70’s. They were neon colored and even though you didn’t normally like that kind of stuff, something about the thought Garcia put into it made it special. You hadn’t had anyone do that for you before. 

“Oh, thank you. They weren’t my idea so I can’t take credit but without the wheelchair, there would be no clips so...” You grinned, too shy to look at Spencer. 

Everyone had gone inside to get drinks while you and Spencer were silently hanging around each other. Both of you were too afraid to really start a conversation of some sort because neither of you knew where to start. 

“Why aren’t you inside with the team?” Spencer asked, sitting in the patio chair next to you. 

Propping his crutches against the wall, you took notice of his hands fiddling in his lap. It was like he needed to keep moving when he couldn’t go anywhere. You hadn’t noticed that about him before. 

“I’m still getting used to them…” You said, looking at your hands in your own lap. 

“Oh… You seem pretty comfortable with the team when we’re on a case.” Spencer said, looking at your hands. His thoughts wandered to how nice they would feel laced in his hands. He would love to hold your hand right about now. 

“That’s different. I know how to do that. I know how to interact when I’m forced to in order to save someone’s life.” You grinned, thinking about the last case, when you were able to save a little girl from yet another monster of a person. 

“It’s different to find common ground when you’re alone with somebody you don’t know.” Spencer said slowly. 

The muffled laughter of the party inside through the back door made you smile. They were having such a good time while you were… Doing nothing next to Spencer? Not that you minded. It was easier to be around one person than it was to be around a group of people all looking at you for your next answer. 

“I think I might like it here. It’s better than my old job.” You said, gazing off into the distance. 

Spencer noticed that you slouched a little bit after saying that. 

“What do you like about it?” Spencer asked, genuinely curious. 

It had been a long time since you liked your job. In the beginning, you liked your old job but your boss turned mean, vindictive even, when you started to receive praise from higher ups. In fact, your skills at your old job got you here. 

“It’s more than just working with a group of people. I’ve been close to some of the most brilliant minds in the world but none of them have ever felt like this. Nowhere before have I ever felt like I’m in a group of people that like each other enough to hang out when they’re not working. It’s like…” You stopped, trying to find the word. 

“A family?” Spencer said, finishing your sentence. 

“Yeah… And right now, I feel like the cousin twice removed that doesn’t really know anyone at the family reunion, even if everyone knows me.” 

There was another pause as Spencer thought about that connection. He tried to think of something smart to say that would be interesting when his brain acted faster than he could sort out. 

“In almost every state, it’s legal to date your second cousin once removed. On estimation, 0.2% of Americans alone are married to their second cousin. For clarification, a second cousin is someone you share a great grandparent with. It’s less about who married who but your relation to them. The current number is unknown as the last time the 0.2% was calculated was between…” Spencer stopped once he saw your face change. 

“What?” You asked him. 

“You’re smiling. And you haven’t stopped me.” Spencer said, eyebrows furrowing. 

“I like listening to you talk about the probability that I’m going to marry my second cousin from this unrelated, metaphorical family.” You smiled wider as his mind started working again. 

“Am I the second cousin in this scenario?” Spencer asked, blushing at the thought. He wasn’t going to lie and say he hadn’t caught feelings for you when he started to find out more about how your mind worked. 

“Maybe. Only if the plan is to get married.” You said. “But you have to take me on a date first.” 

“Okay.” Spencer said, grabbing his crutches. 

“Okay, what?” You asked. You were so confused. 

“You said I have to take you on a date.” Spencer repositioned himself to stand up with the help of the crutches. 

“Are you serious?” You asked, looking up at him. 

“Do you want to go on a date?” Spencer asked in a matter-of-fact way. 

“Well only if you want to.” You said, sheepishly. 

“We should pick a date...Saturday?” Spencer asked. 

“Saturday.” You confirmed with a smile. Spencer began crutching inside before turning and looking at you. 

“Are you coming, y/n? The family is calling.”

[cinnonym]

christmas magic's brought this tale (to a very happy ending)

Written for Day 10 - Game Night / Movie Night of 12 Days of Christmas @supercorpbb

Read on AO3

***

r/relationship_advice – posted by u/anonymous1000 – 13 hours ago

My (25f) crush and best friend (27f) chose a lesbian classic for movie night, how do I react?

Disclaimer ahead: I haven’t used reddit before and am thus not very fluent in etiquette and formatting, but please bear with me because I am seriously overwhelmed by the current situation and would appreciate all forms of help. I’m also typing this in a hurry, because I’m supposed to be in the bathroom, so please excuse typos or inaccuracies. I’ll try my best. But now, without further ado, here goes:

I (25f) have been crushing on my best friend (27f) pretty much since the day we met. For context, that was two years ago, and while we started out on a business relationship, it evolved into a close friendship almost right away. This is mostly due to her, I must admit. She’s the most open-minded person I know and simply couldn’t be “scared away” by my bad reputation (which I inherited). Needless to say, I’m very grateful for her. She’s not only my best, but has also been my only friend for quite a while, before she introduced me to her inner circle. I unironically owe her my happiness (and my life, several times over, but that’s unrelated to this story).

I’d fallen in love before I realised what was happening. Usually, trust and affection come slowly to me, but her I loved almost right away. That’s simply who she is, a person one cannot help loving. Also, she’s very attractive, side note. I used to flirt with her sometimes, in the beginning, before I became aware of the depth of my feelings (this is awkward to talk about, btw, thank goodness for anonymity online), and back then, it seemed like she wasn’t all unresponsive to my advances. Then again, she isn’t very good at saying no to anyone, because of who she is as a person, so maybe she was only being polite? I’m not sure.

Anyway, she had a boyfriend then, and I had to come to terms with my feelings, so I sort of drew back a little. I’d been with women before, so that was never an issue, but I’m uncertain whether she has ever considered women. Her sister is gay, and she is very supportive of her, but we’ve never talked about how she feels. As far as I know, she’s only ever been with men though. Either way, I’m not in the business of making moves on taken people, so I mostly focused on fostering our friendship.

The thing is, as long as I can be close with her, I am sort of okay with being “just friends”. I mean, isn’t close friendship like a romantic relationship, just minus the romance? And minus the physical advantages (although she is a very cuddly person, so that’s nice). And, like, of course, I’d like to mean more to her. Of course I’d like to take care of her every day when she comes home, cook her dinner, listen to her worries, massage her neck, kiss her goodnight. Of course I’d like to be The One to her, just like she is The One to me. But considering that she’s probably straight and not interested in me in that way, I’m mostly okay with just being her best friend.

Or, I was mostly okay with it. But recently she’s… been acting differently towards me. She’s giving me these long glances when she thinks I don’t notice (I do). She’s going out of her way to make sure I’m fine and don’t work too much (it’s a tendency I have, especially pre-Christmas). She’s told me she’s been working on my Christmas gift almost all month (and I can’t for the hell of it guess what it could be). She’s even invited me for Christmas with her family (since I don’t celebrate with mine).

And now today, she chose the film Carol for movie night (movie night is a weekly thing we do, I should have mentioned that earlier, maybe), which is, as you might know, about a lesbian relationship. And I don’t know what to do.

She claims to have chosen the film because it was on a list of Christmas films (and I suppose it does have christmassy vibes), and because it “sounded fitting”. Sounded fitting?? What is that even supposed to mean? She doesn’t know I’m gay, so it can’t be that, unless she somehow figured out. Is she gay and this is her way of telling me? And if so, how do I react? Is this her letting me know she’s interested in me, or am I reading too much into this? Did she even realise this was a lesbian film??

Anyway, she’s calling from the living room, so I need to go. I’ll try to take another bathroom break halfway into the movie, and I’d appreciate it A Lot if I had some reactions in by then, because I’m panicking a little here. Thank you all!

Tl;dr: my supposedly straight friend chose a lesbian film for movie night, and I don’t understand her intentions behind that.

(P.S. She and her boyfriend have broken up months ago. She’s currently single.)

***

r/relationship_advice – posted by u/anonymous1000 – 11 hours ago

UPDATE to this post

First of all, thank you all so much for your quick replies, they’re really helpful. As you might have guessed, I managed to negotiate another bathroom break mid-film (though my friend is currently sulking on the couch, she didn’t want to let me go? :) ?) and am, once again, typing as fast as my fingers will allow. Much has happened.

I’ve mentioned that my friend is a very cuddly person. Today was no difference – as soon as she’d pressed play on the film, she’d already enveloped me in one of her bone-crushing hugs (she’s very strong). Normally, I let myself sink into these embraces, because she really is a phenomenal hugger, but today my speculations were so prevalent in my mind that I could hardly breathe when our bodies touched.

(She noticed my reaction right away, and immediately asked if I’d rather not hug (to which I replied a vehement no), and this really isn’t very important to the story, but I wanted to let you know.)

As the film progressed (largely unregarded by me, I must admit), I noticed several things about her behaviour that seemed odd, though:

One, her heartbeat became considerably faster as soon as Carol and Therese had met on-screen and it became clear that their relationship would be the focus of the film.

Two, she’s been side-eyeing me a lot more frequently than usual (she tends to watch me watch films if she knows the plot already, but considering she probably hasn’t seen Carol before, this seems out of character for her).

Three, and this is… I don’t even know how to feel about this, but… how do I formulate this best…  When the sex scene was playing, I swear she looked at my cleavage and blushed.

I’m sort of ecstatic (because those are hints, right? I can’t be the only one to think that those are hints?) but also very very VERY worried that I’ve totally misinterpreted the entire situation. Then again, all of your comments sound incredibly hopeful and affirming, so I guess I’m not entirely wrong in my assumptions?

I need to go back now (I’ve been here way too long already), but I will definitely keep you updated. It’s so heart-warming to see how invested all of you are!

@everyone who told me to kiss her already: if she keeps this up, I just might :)

***

r/relationship_advice – posted by u/anonymous1000 – 1 hour ago

UPDATE! All’s well that ends well!

Hey everyone, I am so sorry for the late update. I ended up being… somewhat busy last night.

:) :) :)

So, long story short, we’re dating now. And yes, I did kiss her (or she kissed me, I can’t remember exactly. We somehow kissed each other simultaneously).

Long story slightly less short, because I see you hungering for details in the comments (and my now-girlfriend said you deserved to know), here is how it went down:

We didn’t even finish the film. We didn’t even resume the film, after I returned from the bathroom. Because when I did, giddy and ready to Do This, she wasn’t even looking at me. No, she was looking at her phone.

Now, I’ve never seen a person look at their phone with an expression quite as shocked as hers. She was, I’m not kidding, completely frozen (and if you knew her, you’d know that doesn’t happen often).

So naturally I rush over to her, worried as can be, thinking something bad happened, a catastrophe or maybe an accident in her family. And as I kneel by her side, and she still hasn’t moved, I happen to see what she’s been reading on her phone screen.

And it’s reddit.

I’m not gonna lie, for a second I thought it was all over. I mean, she’d obviously recognised us in my post (so much for anonymity everyone, the internet is treacherous), and judging by her expression, well… I assumed the worst.

But then she turns around and she fixes me with this incredibly cute stern stare she has, and she goes: “[My full name]. Have you browsed the relationship tag even once?”

And I shake my head, completely dumbfounded of course, because what does that have to do with anything. But apparently it plays a crucial role, because apparently you all know my girlfriend.

Her username is @supergirlssupercurls and she’s been posting the entire journey of our friendship/romance on this platform. Turns out she loves me too.

:)

She’s also told me to end this with: and they lived happily ever after.

(Let’s hope we do).