#forehead kiss for anon

[hurtspideyparker]

How do you feel about Peter being forgotten by everyone in NWH?

SO MANY THINGS.

Peter chooses to be forgotten twice; once when he asks Doctor Strange to erase everyone's memories, and again in that coffee shop when he walks away from Ned and MJ.

The first time is a necessary sacrifice - the world was collapsing around the identity of Peter Parker. As a hero, he had no choice but to save the planet.

The second? Peter, to his core, puts responsibility above all else. He is selfless, and every consequence he plays a role in is met with the heavy hand of guilt. The second time he chooses to be forgotten it isn't necessary. He saw they had a second chance at a safe, normal life, and didn't want to take that from them again. He thinks so little of himself (as a protector, as a friend, as a person), that he believes they'd be safer and happier without him.

Him being forgotten is a graduation. He finally understands the gravity of being a hero, and he is ready to take it on completely. No more mentors guiding his abilities, no Tony keeping him safe, no May teaching him about responsibility. No guy in the chair, no Stark tech or Avengers or sorcerers.

So with the death of Peter Parker, comes the fulfillment of Spider-Man.

I feel like it couldn't have gone any other way. As much as Peter deserves everything good in the world he is too kind to ever put himself first. Tony Stark made the ultimate sacrifice right before his eyes. He was raised by May who died for the cause of reform and second-chances, who put herself at risk for complete strangers. It was only a matter of time till he followed in their footsteps.

But it hurts so. bad. The kid genius studying under Tony Stark and headed for MIT, his education reduced to a GED. Peter has faced so much loss and grief, he needs a support system now more than ever. He's always leaned on others for comfort and guidance, so to see so much of who he is taken from him when he's forgotten is such a slap in the face.

So I think it was the perfect choice for Spider-Man and the most painful end of Peter Parker. Yes my chest aches thinking about it yes I loved it no I don't think Peter should have left that coffee shop. He under values himself and denies the reality that Peter made people's lives better too, not just Spider-Man.

[demaparbat-hp]

Smooch

[hawktims]

Hawk kissing Tim's forehead.

FELLOW TRAVELERS (2023)

[badlydrawnronpa]

i love how this blog called "badly drawn" while like some of these doodles are better than my finished sketches lol

HEY

NO SELF DEPRECATION ABOUT YOUR ART SKILLS IN THIS HOUSE

ANGIE ATTACK

[blamemma]

daniel ricciardo with a fan at a bar in santa monica | 📅 some point november 2024 | 📸

[temeyes]

hoi. can i please kiss soaps forehead☺ ty

hOI!! of course you can!

[kiksniko]

they were not let off easily btw

[angeart]

soft forehead kisses (1/2) - for ribbon anon <3

[clonecaptains]

Im having a Tyler thot at 9am

So a while back there was this thing going around about how guys can feel your.......heartbeat on their crotch......when you sit on their lap

So imagine having a BBQ in yours and Tyler's backyard with his friends, its late in the evening and everyone is full with good food and a couple beers surrounded by a campfire. Just chatting and having a good time

You're sitting in Tyler's lap, slightly tired from the excitement of the day but incredibly worked up from watching tyler man the grill and tossing a football around with the boys

Tyler is listening to the chatter, mindlessly rubbing his thumb against your hips. Feeling his hands on you, you start thinking about his hand traveling up your skirt and rubbing you through your panties.

While you're deep in your imagination, you don't notice how your hand that was resting on the back of Tyler's neck is now running through Tyler's hair, slightly pulling it and releasing it, causing Tyler to grip your hip and his other hand nearly squeezing the can of beer hes been nursing. You don't notice how you're shifting in his lap to ease the increasing throbbing between your legs.

But Tyler can feel it. He can feel it and his chest swells with pride and lust knowing that you need him just as much as he needs you.

He looks at you for a moment, there's a dazed far off look in your eye, innocent. No one but him would be able to tell what you're fantasizing about.

He kisses your jaw, lightly nipping on it to get your attention. You come to and look back at him, letting out a shuddering breath when you realize what you've been doing.

He leans against your ear, kissing that sweet spot underneath it before whispering, "soon as everyone leaves, my little firecracker, I'm all yours." He presses another kiss to your neck and goes back to the conversation around the campfire. But not before placing his cowboy hat on your head.

Its time to start thinking of a way to get everyone to leave.

OMG ANON??? HELLO???? i saw this when i woke up but then i fell back asleep what a beautiful thing to wake up to???

what i would give to sit in this man's lap and get kisses from him and a promise of some fun later? the lil detail of the cowboy hat is EXTRA cute and devastating in the best way. he gets up all casual to talk to his friends knowing full well ur having a crisis over there. no doubt he throws you little winks when he makes eye contact w/ you from across the way. he knows what's on your mind now.

when the guests finally leave, tyler sits back down on one of the longer cushier chairs and beckons for you to come join him. "where were we?" he asks and kisses you softly, then deepens it. now it's a tangle of limbs and scrambling to unbuckle belts and unzipper pants, the need to be w/ each other is strong. the pent up need was about to break you both.

the campfire is now glowing embers; and the fire he's ignited in you has just begun to burn.

[inoreuct]

would you agree that we all need more Sanji getting nosebleeds over Zoro in this fandom?

YES *pelting down a hill waving the proposal for this in my hand like a madman* YESSSSSS

the first time sanji gets a nosebleed over zoro is his clue-in that oh. i’m not straight, am i. the swordsman’s doing a bench press (shirtless, as always) as sanji walks by (and sanji sneaks a look, as always, because who wouldn’t?) and when he glances over the plates he has to do a double take because what the fuck. zoro’s pressing more than twice his body weight. zoro’s repping more than twice his body weight. he’s just registered that maybe he’s stared for a bit too long when he feels something warm and wet on his upper lip, iron dripping over his mouth, and he books it for the galley.

he slams the door shut and presses his back against it before he slides to the ground and screams into his knees because what. the fuck. it’s not even that he’s getting hot and bothered over a guy; it’s just that the guy’s zoro. he’s not supposed to get nosebleeds over zoro.

but he does.

and it gets worse.

zoro walking around shirtless on deck? nosebleed. zoro re-tying the sails and just hanging on with his legs around the mast? nosebleed. zoro strutting out of the shower door, damp with steam and hair dripping wet and a towel around his waist? nosebleed. zoro tsking irritably and grabbing all of sanji’s food and packages from him to haul the whole lot over his shoulder? NOSEBLEED.

and not even that. he starts getting breathless around zoro and his chest hurts. he kicks zoro back while they’re sparring one day and the swordsman grins, feral and unrestrained and all challenge and teeth, and sanji’s heart spasms so hard that he actually wonders if he’s about to go into cardiac arrest. he’s barely twenty, he isn’t ready to die— much less because of some stupid marimo. chiselled abs and a nice set of biceps are only worth so much of sanji’s dignity. he twists and smashes the sole of his shoe right into zoro’s pretty face.

still, it gets so, so bad that he’s elected to just. avoid zoro completely. he’s sneaking around corners and running across open expanses ducked low like some kind of goofy thief and he knows it’s so fucking stupid but he doesn’t. he doesn’t know if zoro likes— no. he doesn’t even think about it. there’s no way, and if he gives himself false hope he’ll just break his own heart. he doesn’t know if zoro likes men, or anyone, much less him; nobody in their right mind would, not really. he's nice to have but not to keep and he's come to terms with it.

…until zoro corners him in the galley and demands to know what the fuck’s going on.

sanji stays facing away, slowly washing the dishes even as his heart pounds so hard it hurts. he is painfully aware of the way zoro’s seething like an over-boiled kettle in one of the chairs behind him, arms crossed over his stupidly broad chest and stock-still because he never, ever shakes his leg even though sanji knows he wants to.

his sponge squeaks across ceramic. the water’s warm against his fingertips, and his eyes flick up to meet his own reflection in the porthole window; he looks… well, he doesn’t know. scared, maybe. nervous. his mouth is thin, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, a shudder running its fingers down his spine even as his heartbeat thumps between his ribs and god, fuck, it aches. and he knows. he looks himself in the eyes and he knows that somewhere along the line nosebleeds had turned into falling in love and he was the stupid idiot who had just let it happen because he was too weak to pry zoro out of his thoughts.

his gaze flicks down sharply when he hears the sudden scrape of the chair, and zoro spits, “look, i can’t fix whatever i did wrong if you don’t tell me what it is.”

sanji’s heart throbs. “what?”

he can hear zoro’s scowl. “what, what? i obviously did something. you’ve been avoiding me like the plague.”

the cook almost laughs. he bites it down and swallows his words, salty-sweet at the back of his throat. guilt nips at him; zoro’s his rival and and his personal annoyance and a blockhead but he might also, maybe, just maybe, be sanji’s best friend. and sanji hasn’t been very fair to him lately.

he swallows again, clears his throat silently. “you didn’t do anything, marimo,” he murmurs to the plate in his hands, trying for airy and getting more somewhat vaguely strangled. he coughs. “just forget about it. sorry i’ve been weird.”

sanji will deal. he will, somehow; he’d been careless and careless is dangerous and for perhaps the first time in his life, he has too much to lose. he’ll squash his heart into a box and lock it down tight like he always has and it’ll hurt, but when does it ever not? he mentally declares the matter done and dusted as he shakes off the plate and gently sets it on the drying rack.

his lungs hitch as a callused hand cups his elbow.

zoro pulls him around. he’s too weak to resist. the edge of the sink digs into his hip as stormy grey eyes scan his face and zoro looks tense, his jaw set in the way it only is when he faces off with a particularly vexing foe.

“did i not look happy enough at dinner?" he asks, and it could be mockery but it isn't, not with that edge to his voice; not desperation, but damn near. like filter paper burning its way to ash. "was it my clothes on the floor? my boots on the bed? what?”

sanji can't stand it anymore. he looks away, tries to twist out of the invisible bonds zoro has him trapped in, but fingers looped around his wrist are all it takes to make him stay and fuck, fuck, he's so fucked.

"sanji, what did i do?” zoro breathes, brow furrowed, voice too near and too damn earnest, and sanji's throat bobs as he digs the heel of his palm into his eye.

this isn't how it's supposed to go. zoro isn't supposed to care. zoro isn't supposed to be standing here in the galley saying his name in that tone of voice. a hand carefully pulls his own away from his face, and zoro doesn't fucking let go, and sanji feels too much like he's been stripped down to the bone.

"i know," zoro continues, gruff like he doesn't know how to be anything else, "that i upset you. so would you please tell me what i did so i can fix it?" he bends lower still, ducking to try and catch sanji’s line of sight but sanji just can't look at him. "i'll fix it, i—"

"you can't fix this." the words are out and in the air before he can stop them, and a bittersweet smile curves his mouth. "there's nothing to fix, so you can't fix it. just let it go, alright?"

zoro wants to argue. sanji can tell. but the swordsman lets out a measured exhale after a long moment and pulls back, face carefully neutral. "at least tell me what's going on, cook."

sanji looks down at his feet. "...i can't."

"like hell you can't," zoro replies immediately, and it's such an abrupt reminder of their normal banter that it wrenches a rough noise from sanji's chest. "i was the one who held your hair back after you had, like, seven margaritas too many. don't think you could tell me anything worse than the experience of trying to stop you from falling into your own puke."

"oh, jesus fuck," sanji swears on instinct, then laughs. it's unfortunately hollow. "that was one time, asshole."

"one time too many," zoro hums, raising an eyebrow. "so you gonna tell me what's going on, or do i have to make it a captain's order?"

sanji grits his teeth.

"i will drag luffy in here, i don't care—"

"fucking—" he holds his breath, flipping around to white-knuckle the edge of the sink and letting it out slow. "fine. you ever loved someone, marimo?"

"sure." zoro shrugs easily, crossing his arms as he looks out the window. "kuina, but i think i learned to love her memory more than anything else. luffy, nami—" a near-unnoticeable flutter of thick lashes. "you."

sanji exhales through his nose as he rocks back on his heels. squeezes out air till it hurts. "you know that's not what i meant."

"what did you mean, then?"

he turns to look at where zoro has settled lazily against the counter, the moon turning his eyes to silver. "I mean the kind of love that makes your blood race. that makes you want more even when you know you'll never take more than you're allowed. the kind that makes your heart hurt so badly you feel empty without it."

the swordsman's face is unreadable as he tilts his head slowly. "i did say i love you."

it hits sanji like a bullet. he sucks in a sharp breath, and his throat burns as he turns away and tries to stop his shoulders from heaving up. "don't fuck with me, zoro. not about this."

it feels rather like a cruel cosmic joke. he's so near yet so far, just one step away with a gauzy curtain between but he can't touch it. he won't. he's got too many things on the line and yet he can't even name one of them.

"hey."

he squeezes his eyes shut against the burn of salt that shouldn't even be there, and look at that. little sanji's gone and broken his own heart again.

"hey," zoro tries again, more insistent, one hand hovering in the space between them and sanji feels the pull of it like a magnet.

he doesn't turn away as it cups his cheek. doesn't run as fingers slide through the short hairs at his nape, a thumb behind his jaw. his lashes are damp. it is everything he wants and everything he cannot have and he can't—

"look at me."

"i can't," he breathes, lungs rising fast and shallow. he's afraid to open his eyes. he's afraid of what he'll see.

"yes, you can." zoro shifts closer and another hand joins the first. it's big and rough and warm and he holds sanji's face like he's the moon herself. "look at me, curly."

he can't.

he does.

zoro's gaze is almost painful to meet straight-on with how intense it is. he seems to realise, face softening as he leans closer, closer, posture loose enough that it would be no problem for sanji to shove him away. "you love me," he breathes. "yes or no?"

sanji's heart stops. his tongue is clumsy in his mouth, his brain a mess of yesnoyesyesnoiwon'tican’tido—

"don't think." zoro's voice cuts through the haze as he shakes his head slowly; a sword through smoke, silver-bright, singing in the air and leaving silence. "don't think. you love me, yes or no."

the galley swims around sanji as his vision blurs. he feels his tears spill hot down his cheek, knows the way zoro aches to brush them away and yet stays still. he opens his mouth and it feels like stepping out of the only shelter he's ever known; he is an open fucking wound and he's raw and everything hurts, everything but zoro. zoro. zoro. "yes."

just one word, three simple letters, and still it feels like damnation; if he'd never said it he could deny it but now it's real. the swordsman relaxes, shoulders dropping enough that his forehead brushes sanji's, and sanji tracks the way his throat bobs. the way steel-grey eyes flicker over his face, molten in the light of the electric lamps and the moonlight spilling through the window, gilding zoro like something out of a dream. a fairytale sanji read as a child until the edges of the pages fitted familiar to his thumbs as his little hands reached for a happy ending that was never meant to be his.

he shakes, now, as zoro reaches up to run tentative fingers through straw-pale hair. "let me love you. yes or no."

"i—" the sound that twists from his mouth is cracked jagged down the middle, unpolished as a common pebble picked up off the damn street. "you don't—"

"yes or no."

"i'm not what you want," he gasps, his face wet.

"yes or no."

sanji wants to break apart. because zoro sounds like he's begging, and he cannot fathom anybody possibly wanting him that much. he wants to scream and cry and claw at the walls until his nails break. he wants to shatter into pieces all over the floor without having to worry about putting himself back together. he wants. he wants, and zoro's looking at him with the closest thing to reverence he's seen in his life, and even that isn't enough for him to believe it. "i'm not what you want."

he can barely look at zoro. he can barely look at himself. the shame is clawing a pit into his stomach, and he lets it, feels every inch of it, because what kind of person doesn't know how to be loved? his breath catches wetly as zoro cups his jaw in both hands, tilting his face up, and once again sanji is too weak to pull away.

"you are everything i want."

the words are so fierce, so sure, and sanji is cracking apart at the seams. the stitches pulled tight by his own hand are unravelling and he can't stop it—

"yes or no."

zoro's breath ghosts warm across his mouth, fingertips in his hair, just far away enough for sanji to see the way his eyes are blazing and yet he waits. his thumb on sanji's cheek is the gentlest thing sanji has ever known.

"you'll get tired of me," he tries weakly, one last time for good measure, and zoro just shakes his head. the resolve in his expression does not waver even once.

sanji breaks.

"yes." the word scrapes itself out of his throat seconds before arms are going around him, and he sobs. lets the swordsman bring them both to the kitchen floor as he curls up in zoro's lap, fingers clawing into his white shirt, numb with how hard he cries because nobody, nobody has ever stayed. not without him getting hurt in the process. he pushes them away when he gets scared and they let him and then it becomes his fault when it all blows up in his face, but zoro's not leaving, and it's so foreign to him that he's shaking so badly and he can't stop.

a warm, heavy palm smooths over his spine and he lets himself be shifted closer, settles sideways as zoro wraps an arm over his shins and rocks them until his breathing evens out. the embarrassment hits like a gut punch; he knows he looks like a mess, face blotchy and hair everywhere and eyes puffy as hell, but zoro cards his bangs out of his eyes and looks at him like he doesn't care, and sanji turns away.

he feels... fragile. like he's made of tinted glass and spun sugar, like he'll cave in at the slightest touch. there is something melting in his chest and it drips down over his ribs; pools fresh as a river in spring, offset by the grounding presence of zoro's hands on his skin. "don't say i didn't warn you," he mumbles, masking his very real fear behind a layer of watery bravado as he hides his face in zoro's shoulder, and of course, of course zoro sees right through him.

the swordsman's thumb traces the swirl of his eyebrow before zoro rests his chin on top of sanji's head. "i don’t listen. you know that."

you know me, is what goes unsaid, and sanji doesn't deign to reply. he buries his face into zoro's chest and breathes in the smell of steel and sword oil and— he sits up slightly, eyes narrowing. "you've been stealing my deodorant, yes or no." the way zoro stills momentarily is a dead giveaway, and he yelps when the swordsman flicks his forehead.

"would you rather i be stinky?" zoro scoffs, rolling his eyes gently as sanji settles back down with a huff.

"you still are stinky. if we're gonna be together i'm expecting you to shower at least once every two days—" zoro groans, and he powers through, raising his voice, "—and if you aren't fussy i'll let you shower with me."

the way zoro instantly stops complaining cracks a laugh out of him. it's weak and watered-down, but it's a start. zoro's hands slide back into his hair and he hums as he lets his eyes fall shut.

the moon's full tonight. their ship rocks gently, and sanji gets comfortable; zoro's warm and solid and happens to make a perfectly respectable pillow. the thought that he can have this now sends a thrill through him.

he's not a fool. he's not optimistic when it comes to this. when it comes to love.

but with zoro's thumb rubbing mindless circles against the side of his thigh and a kiss pressed to the top of his head, he's got a pretty good feeling about this time around.

[avonne-writes]

"A forehead kiss for sick Gale, who grumbles and furrows his brow in protest but then relaxes completely after a second kiss" ohh gosh 🥺

Re: this post - I love forehead kisses 🥹

Gale's bones hurt. It’s the only thing on his mind. His bones feel like they're going to disintegrate, his throat is on fire, he’s sweating and cold at the same time, and the only reason why he's able to breathe through his nose is the amount of chemicals he sprayed into it. Sleep would be a welcome respite from this horrible flu.

Huffing in misery, he burrows lower under the duvet where he's convalescing on his side of the bed. It annoys him that the space next to him is cold, but he tries to ignore it and think of something pleasant that might help him drift off. They've had such a nice Christmas with John's family. Up until Gale caught this nasty cold, of course... And now, everyone else is downstairs, playing board games and having fun, while Gale's stuck here alone. Cold, sick and abandoned.

He sniffles, squeezing his eyes shut at the pain that flares up in his nose and throat, when the bedroom door suddenly opens.

With bleary eyes, Gale looks up to see Bucky walking towards him in his ridiculous Christmas sweater, a soft smile on his face. It’s meant to be comforting, Gale supposes, but all those indignant thoughts of being left behind flare up in his mind and make him cranky, so he just makes a face and closes his eyes. Socked feet pad closer, then the blanket shifts against his body as Bucky tucks it around Gale's shoulders, further irritating him.

"How are you feeling?" Bucky asks, but only gets a grunt in reply. Gentle fingers comb through Gale’s hair. "Do you need anything, baby?"

"A blanket?" Gale croaks. He looks up to watch Bucky open their closet and pull out a fleece throw. When he drapes that over Gale too, Gale sighs and shudders as the extra warmth envelops him.

A moment later, Bucky brushes a stray curl of Gale's hair away from his forehead and presses a kiss to the feverish skin there.

It feels good, but it feels terrible too. It reminds Gale just much he hates being sick, of how frustrating it is to be this vulnerable and helpless. If he could, Gale would scream in frustration.

"Go away." He grumbles, frowning deeply in discomfort.

But, true to his usual form, Bucky's not deterred. Through the duvet and the extra blanket, he rubs Gale's chest, then cups Gale’s flushed cheek and presses his lips to Gale's forehead again.

This time, the kiss lingers. Right where Gale's frown is the most severe, Bucky's lips are a spot of soft warmth, and despite everything, Gale finds himself relaxing into it. His tense muscles go slack, his eyelids grow heavier, the darkness behind them darker, and the lines of his face smooth out. He doesn’t feel cold anymore, and the pain in his bones becomes a dull ache, a weight that pulls him towards sleep.

He breathes in and out softly and falls asleep before he could even hear Bucky leave.

[allastoredeer]

Loving the Alastor torture thoughts, eh?

Well, if I wanted to elaborate I might imply that whichever side of the equation of Al and his Shadow gets harmed is entirely up to the captor.

Wanna make the crew squirm with knowing Alastor is in pain and can't be helped unless they comply with XYZ demand? Send home the Shadow and watch each physical wound be reflected in its Umbran form.

Wanna keep Alastor contained, but in unblemished condition? Harm his Shadow. There's not really a physical form to create marks onto the host, but imagine how soul-achingly deep that pain would radiate. With no outward wound to damage the merchandise or treat to make the pain stop. "Behave, Radio Demon or we won't give either of you time to recover."

Or imagine the poor dears separated, but in close confinement to each other. To feel the damage they are unwillingly ceding to their other half and being unable to touch, to hold, to console... Alastor barely able to move, Shadow desperately trying to phase to him.

But why would anyone want a story like that? It would be Heartbreaking. >:)

I want a story like that

I want a story like that so fucking bad

p-please

please give me a story like that

god please, I'll give you anything

[devotioncrater]

"no hints were dropped" ok not to be that person but here are the hints that were dropped regarding Colin and Trent being gay:

1. Colin mentioning Grindr in a joke

2. Trent touching the arm of a man in the background

Here is one of the hints that Keeley was bi (even though I do believe she's been canonically bi since season 1, but not everyone sees it this way)

1. Her desktop background was in the colors of the bisexual flag

Here were some of the hints that Ted was bi:

1. Bisexual flag colored triangles above his head in the hallucination sequence

2. Inverted pink triangle next to him in that same sequence (and you can't tell me the creators didn't know, when the Homomonument is based on that symbol)

3. Countless (countless!!!) comments about men's physiques ("huge muscular thighs all caked in mud", whistling at a picture of Pep, "look at that head of hair", "he's strong", "he looks like a Rodin sculpture in cleats", etc.)

4. About a man (Higgins) and a woman (Rebecca), he had to say: "that's a crowd I don't mind being smack-dab in the middle of"

5. Him checking Trent out in the pub in 2x07 (his eyes are up there, Ted!)

6. "It could go either way", "I contain multitudes" and other comments in this vein

7. Bi lighting as he entered the Yankee Doodle Burger Barn

8. Giving similar looks to the female waitress and the male waiters in that restaurant (including a waiter in a cowboy costume that looked like he belonged in a gay club, who tipped his hat at Ted when greeting him)

9. "That's cause you were put into a box", "That box ceases to exist today", the box in the hallucination sequence breaking into triangles (as in the bi triangles and the inverted pink triangke), "we've been playing too rigid", "our guys need freedom", "fast, fluid, free, with full support", the "box that one needs to break out of" being a prominent motif in season 3

10. Wishing Beard called him pet names ("Honey, is that an ingredient or something you just called me?")

11. His crush on Pep

12. The connection between Ted and Colin: "my whole life is two lives, really", both wearing orange in Sunflowers, "I just want to kiss my fella" (Colin doesn't say "fella" , but Ted says it all the time), Ted just needs to get inspired and Colin's play is "inspirational" after he comes out, as per the commentators

And so much other stuff that, had Ted not self-identified as straight (*cough* put himself into a box *cough cough*) , you could make the case that he was canonically bi.

Here are some of hints that there was a romantic connection between Ted and Trent:

1. They hit a lot of romantic beats, and not in the jokey self-aware way in which Roy and Ted hit them in "Rainbow", but in an organic and sincere way

2. They both checked each other out: Trent checked Ted out when Ted was changing in front of him, Ted checked Trent out when Trent came up to him in a pub and hit him with a pick-up line while his date that looked a lot like Ted waited for him outside

3. Did I mention that Trent was on a date with a moustachioed man who dressed in a similar style to Ted? Let's mention it again

4. In that very bar, during a 50 second long conversation, Trent managed to say the word "love" three times. I searched the word "love" in the transcripts of the episodes. There's no other instance in which its frequency is this high

5. "Love our chats" incomplete rule of threes

6. "Sport, it's quite the metaphor" (implied: a metaphor for love; see also "love's a beautiful game" from the song Ed Sheeran wrote for Ted Lasso), "Also makes for a heck of a nickname", "Good night, Ted", "Good night, sport"

7. The soft, romantic, melancholic song playing in the background of this scene, while Ted and Trent are the last ones left in the office, with lyrics such as "When your words begin to crumble like the sidewalks all around this crummy neighborhood / From the chalky cliffs of Dover / I'd come over, I'd start over if I could"

8. Trent wearing sunflower colors in the episode "Sunflowers" and in the finale; sunflowers symbolize Ted's home (it's not subtle). He's the only character dressed like that. I'm still looking for any other explanation other than "Trent is Ted's home"

9. Their constant flirting and the way they look at each other with incredible fondness

10. The entire episode "The Strings That Bind Us". It's structured around Ted and Trent's relationship, and the way Trent changed because of Ted (in season 2, Ted defined a soulmate as someone who changes your life forever). The red string metaphor. Ted points out that soulmates are connected by a string tied to their little fingers. Ted and Trent both extend their little fingers out in similar shots. They are connected by a huge block of red in their last scene of the episode. Ted makes several comments about other men that apply to Trent ("Look at that head of hair", "Frames his face nicely", "My favorite one, he was clean shaven"). Many more details that lead back to Ted and Trent: Nate tells the restaurant owner to tell Jade he said "Hello". Immediately after, Ted and Trent say "Hello" to each other. The map that Nate's father used to ask out his mom has the number 1.3 written on it and an illustration of two people at a table in a restaurant. Ted and Trent went to a restaurant together in season 1, episode 3. The last scene of the episode mimics a "Race for Love" scene from a romcom, with Trent chasing after Ted. Trent also does not say a word to anyone other than Ted in the entire episode. He is completely focused on Ted

11. "Trent, what do you love? Is it writing?" and Trent ends up writing a book about Ted and naming the manuscript after Ted and he only cares about Ted's opinion on it (he leaves the room when Beard starts reading, but stays in the office after hours just to watch Ted read. "I just wanted you to like it.")

11. Trent's crush on Ted, confirmed by Jimmy Lance (and also obvious in the show, if you ask me)

Now, why would I believe that none of these hints were intentional? Maybe some could be explained away, but all of them? The hints we got for Colin, Trent and Keeley were so much smaller than this, and those turned out to be intentional.

anon i wish i could offer you the response you deserve, but i cannot stop rereading this masterpiece & focusing on the portions of evidence you provided that i didn't even pick up on until you laid them out. holy shit

[hood-ex]

just saw your old post about dick kissing the top of tim's head after he decided not to resurrect kon - i've seen that panel dozens of times before but i never realized that dick was actually pressing a kiss to his hair.... this was possibly one of the most tenderest things that have ever happened in bat-comics i think. other notable mentions:

bruce brushing the hair back from dick's forehead in forever evil

cass embracing bruce while telling him that cain never let held her like this

bruce kissing leslie's forehead

alfred reading shakespeare to dick when he was sick or hurt

tim dressing cass's wounds in batgirl #59

dick holding helena when she got shot in no man's land

bruce and jason hugging with the narration text: "a son is not always born of his father"

dick narrating and acting-out cinderella off-panel to cass

bruce draping his cape over dick in the batcave at the end of war games

and many more...

I've always loved Alfred holding Dick's hand while Dick was sleeping.

Nightwing (Vol. 2) #148

[nottsangel]

do you think theo would ever try period sex to help you

yes that man is not afraid to get blood on his sword

[blamemma]

daniel ricciardo in perth | 5.1.25 / 📸 theherdsmanmarket