#i get too logical about it i need to learn... a Funny

[deadbeandrop]

this is like my ummm... i don't know, like my holy grail? i am like extremely anti-flanderization, if i ever worked in the industry or something i would just be doing all in my power to make sure it never happens or for this to almost never be broken. i'm pretty sure i have it drilled into my head more than the writers did at this point

[dunmesh]

okay i don't have anything smart to add i just genuinely love that these seemingly trivial jokes are actually an important part of his character. we see it throughout the entire manga, how he pushes aside his own frustration and discomfort to accommodate everyone else's and avoid needless confrontation- another example off the top of my head would be the barometz chapter in which he slowly gets frustrated with izutsumi but still tries his best to talk some sense into her calmly and soundly.

and in contrast, there are very few times he expresses his anger and hurt towards others, and it usually takes a lot for him to finally lose his patience and control.

i mean, even with kabru he tried to be polite despite the circumstances until the guy said the one thing that triggers an immense sense of shame, hurt and rage in laios. and you know, the manga does say it quite clearly early on. when we are introduced to namari and then to shuro, laios acts all friendly and shows his respect and trust in them despite how things ended between them, and everyone else gets frustrated with him for acting so strange- why are you the one who tries so hard to pacify the rest when you should be the angriest?

and they don't understand him. they don't know him well enough to be able to understand, but we as readers get to see during the manga that they aren't wrong to question him- he does, in fact, feel all those ugly emotions. and it's when the winged lion finally confronts him that we see to what extent these feelings he buried so deep go, and suddenly all those funny little moments where he sometimes pretends to be mr nice guy speak volumes about his character. honestly, ryoko kui is a master at using jokes in order to define important character traits and this one doesn't fail to amaze me.

and laios's hatred and rage and deep scars he can't get over aren't shown explicitly during most of these moments i mentioned before, but now you realize there are 26 years of emotional baggage to all of them and they sting. he is angry but he can't say shit, what difference would it make? it won't make his friends choose him instead of themselves when he needed them most, and it won't help his party get any farther. of course, this logic doesn't apply to them- they are absolutely allowed to get angry and it's fine to get mad at him, he can take that.

so after finishing the series it's so clear that he tries his best to avoid clashing with others not just due to the current circumstances and him needing to be a reliable leader but also because he knows that people don't even like him when he tries to show his good sides and hide all the rest, so who the hell would tolerate his rage and despair? who would stay after realizing that he is so deeply flawed he doesn't even like his own being?

but he does get mad. he can't help it, and sometimes it gets out of control and now everyone knows. and it's funny, isn't it? that most of those moments ended up bringing him closer to others. shuro admitting he is envy of him and actually becoming the friend laios thought he was all along, fighting for his sake and waiting for him to come back- believing in him even after he turned into a monster and searching for him the way he couldn't bring himself to do for falin when he learned of what became of her- or kabru being pushed to just let it all out because he couldn't bluff his way out of this one and get to laios any other way, so now they are even. they are both horribly honest with each other and they both choose to stay. a weird way of getting to know each other, but it is what it is.

it's simply... the more laios let himself just be, the deeper his relationships grew. and there's intimacy in being your ugly, weak and furious self around someone and them not leaving you. feeling safe enough to let it be known you are hurt and angry. and he knows that now, too.

[differenteagletragedy]

A loose continuation of this little thing where you love Simon and Simon loves you too but he also loved Johnny :')

Simon keeps some of Johnny's ashes in a tiny little vial that you pretend you don't know about. Most of the time he keeps it in a box in his nightstand, sometimes you catch him sitting on the bed you share, twirling it in his hands, lost in some memory you'll never know.

You tell yourself it doesn't bother you, knowing even as the notion crosses your mind that it's a lie.

It's not that Simon tries to be deceptive about it, or about anything, it's just that he doesn't like to talk about it at all. He'd told you when things started getting serious between you that he had a lost love, a soldier that fought and died beside him, and as time went on, you got more glimpses.

You learn, in quick little bursts, just how much Johnny meant to him. He tells you offhandedly some funny thing he said on some mission down in Mexico. There's some passing remark when winter comes about how much he'd loved the snow. During one shopping trip, when Simon spends a little too long looking at a blue t-shirt, his hands, holding it up and some far away look in his eye, you think you get an idea of what color his eyes were.

And you try to be patient. You'd love nothing more than to be understanding, and logically, you do understand it. You know that human beings are complex, that a person is capable of loving more than one person in their lifetime. It doesn't matter that if Johnny were still alive, Simon wouldn't be with you -- you don't want that to matter, because it's not the reality.

But still, it feels real. It's a real pain, deep and aching and persistent. It makes you wish you didn't love Simon so damn much, because maybe then it would be easier to look past all this.

Sometimes, when it throbs, the pain makes you mean.

"I'm right here, Simon," you tell him on a bad day.

"I can see that," he responds, willingly ignoring the weight behind your words, and it sets you off.

Your voice rises, shrill and cutting, as you say, "He's dead, Simon. I know you loved him, but he's dead."

His eyes go flat, the warmth in the brown seeping away and leaving two dark pits in its place. But it's not scary. It's just nothing.

"Look," you start again, willing your voice to steady, "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to be mean, but if you want to be with me, then I'm gonna need you to actually be with me. Because the way it is now ..."

"I give you all I can."

It's a quiet truth. Another handful of small words that are enough to rip you wide open.

Part Three

[uyuforu]

Groom Persona Chart Observations IV

This post is based on my own Groom PC! I thought it would be good to have a post like this to analyze each details and make it as observations. This post is simply is you are interested in men, I'll make a Briede PC for people who are interested in women soon!

Asteroids Used: Groom (5129), Briede (19029), Juno (3), Union (1585), Boda (1487).

All pictures were found on Pinterest

Other posts you could like:

જ⁀➴ Briede/ Groom Persona Chart for Yourself

જ⁀➴ Union Persona Chart Observations I

જ⁀➴ Groom/ Briede/ Juno aspects in Natal Chart

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₊˚⊹♡ Cancer Rising can mean FS looks very sweet, FS looks younger than their real age, FS looks like they are innocent, FS can also look like their mother. FS can be good looking and on the more sweet side. They can have a water rising, or Moon 1H, but mostly they can really look like a water sign. They can also have 4H placements.

₊˚⊹♡ 2H Sun means FS can be the kind of husband and person to want to take care of the money. They can be a provider, they can want to assure that they have everything under control, that you can rest, they will take care of responsibilities. FS can gift you a lot of things. FS can come from a wealthy background, or they themselves can be wealthy. They will be very serious and faithful in your relationship.

₊˚⊹♡ Sun 9° can tell us FS is a foreigner, they can come from a different country, background, culture than you. FS can also be very wise, they can be the kind to want to learn and teach, and so during your marriage they can also love to learn things from you, with you and also teach you things. They can also have the desire to guide you sometimes in life.

₊˚⊹♡ Leo Moon can tell us FS is proud, can have a specific ego they can also be quite hurt if you hurt their ego. They can express their emotions in a proud way, they will laugh but no too much, they will be hurt but won't want to show it. They can be quite proud to be honest. Though they can be quite funny, and once they are in love, they are soooo into the person they love. They feel super excited about you.

₊˚⊹♡ 3H Moon can mean FS can be quite logical about their feelings? They can tend to express their emotions in a very logical manner, they want to understand what they feel pretty logically. They can also need time to put words on their feelings, if they don't, they will be confused. They also can't internalize too much, they will need to talk about their feelings.

₊˚⊹♡ Moon 22° can mean FS can be quite cold about showing their feelings, they can also be quite harsh about their emotional side. They can also feel like they can't show off what they feel all the time, because they need to be strong.

₊˚⊹♡ Cancer Mercury means FS has a very sweet voice, FS can also talk in a very sweet way. They can have a beautiful voice, but mostly they use very beautiful words. FS can tend to speaks a lot about their family, mother, childhood, they can also talk a lot about what they want for family, marriage, children, etc.

₊˚⊹♡ 1H Mercury, FS are very direct with their ideas, they can also tend to cut people when they speak, they just speak fast too, and they can be seen as rude because they just go fast with what they talk about, because they think fast. They talk before they speak and it can be seen as rude.

₊˚⊹♡ Mercury 20° can tell us FS can be quite mysterious about what they think, they can also tend to want to keep anything they do not want to share to themselves. They are very secretive, and actually they are very good at keeping secrets. They can also have strange ideas sometimes, and they can lie to keep their secrets as secretive as possible.

₊˚⊹♡ Leo Venus can mean FS is very proud of their love, they can be the clingy type when in love, they can also love to love their person. FS can be the type to want too show people how much they love you, they can love PDA, showing people you are his. They can love to show people you are loved and you are their love. Feel proud to be married to you. Wants to treat you as a queen.

₊˚⊹♡ 3H Venus can mean FS can be quite good with words, in a sense that they can find the best romantic way to pull out their words to express their love. Can be good with poetry and can love writing it. They are veryyyy romantic too. FS will also remember every details of you.

₊˚⊹♡ Venus 23° can tell us FS is quite unique with how they show their love, they can be very unpredictable too. They are the type to always surprise you with something a little weird but romantic.

₊˚⊹♡ Leo Mars can mean FS has a lot of goals and ambition but they can tend to be quite obsessed with the idea of recognition. They want to be seen, they want people to love them, to want them. They can want to feed their ego a lot, they can tend to be selfish or to have a big ego overall.

₊˚⊹♡ 2H Mars can tell us they can be very motivated by money, they can also have a very collected energy, they can want to own a lot of things, they can have big ambitions too. They can tend to also want to be adored, they want attention but mostly on what they have, possessed, they want to be envied.

₊˚⊹♡ Mars 0° can mean the placements of the Mars that you have can be 10x stronger. Very powerful energy on their Mars.

₊˚⊹♡ 12H Jupiter, FS is the most generous in general. VERY generous person. They can tend to give too much and not actually put boundaries with people. FS can love to spend time alone, they can feel the happiest this way. They can love sleeping too. They can love to be alone to be able to be more creative.

₊˚⊹♡ Jupiter 5° can mean FS can be very generous, they can love to give things to people they love, they can also love to spoil the people they care about. FS can also love to have fun times, they can like to flirt, to seduce. They can also think that romantic times and flirt times are a way to reduce stress for them.

₊˚⊹♡ 12H Saturn can mean FS can have hard time with mental health, they can also feel like sometimes being alone feels more lonely. They can have hard time. Perhaps after meeting you they can sense their alone time isn't enjoyable anymore. They can have hard time with their father too, father could have been absent or it felt like they were abandoned. They can be really insecure about themselves in general, they can tend to see themselves in a bad light.

₊˚⊹♡ Saturn 29° can mean FS can have confidence issues, they can see themselves as not deserving of good things, or not deserving good things that can happen to them. They can also feel like they don't deserve happiness. They can feel bad about having fun. But they can also feel burden by the pressure of being successful.

₊˚⊹♡ 9H Uranus can mean FS can be quite unpredictable about their hobbies, they can love a lot of things, and it's so different from all of their hobbies it can be quite surprising. They can love learning foreign languages, they can love traveling too. They can love to learn things about foreign countries and cultures, they are quite curious.

₊˚⊹♡ Uranus 19°, FS can have different ways to show their love and it can be sometimes a little weird, or just very different. FS can have hard time with romantic relationship, can sometimes feel like they aren't lucky in love or they want freedom in relationship. Being married to you may change their perspective on romance and relationships.

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₊˚⊹♡ 8H Neptune can mean FS is a virgin, it can also be they were never intimate with anyone before you. This can also indicate FS wants to wait for the one to be intimate.

₊˚⊹♡ Neptune 5° can mean FS is very creative! They can have a very big imagination, they can get amazing ideas that may amaze you. FS can also express their love in a very creative way. They may not exactly know if they want children or not. They can love them tho.

₊˚⊹♡ 6H Pluto can mean FS can be obsessed with their health. They can have a weak health, perhaps also a bad mental state, they can be depressed or deal with mental health issues. They can have a hard time with their job, or finding what they want to do as a job. They can want to build a certain career but it's hard for them. They can also change their career drastically at some point in their life. FS can do an unusual job too. FS will change their routine when marrying you.

₊˚⊹♡ Pluto 10° can tell us FS can feel burden mentally, a lot of pressure in their life. They can also deal with hardships with their father, perhaps also having a toxic relationship with them. FS can once again have an unusual career/ job but also have a strange reputation. Their reputation will change after marrying you.

₊˚⊹♡ Scorpio Groom can mean FS can see themselves as mysterious, someone who doesn't open up easily. They also see themselves as deep, and they can also think they only want to open up about some people they consider special to them.

₊˚⊹♡ 5H Groom can mean FS can see themselves as a flirt, a rizz, someone who is romantic too. They can think they are a fun partner. This can mean they can be aware they have a certain ego. But they also think they are generous.

₊˚⊹♡ Groom 1° can tell us that your FS can think they are good looking, at least they can think they are masculine too. They can also be quite physical in general, they can tend to be a little aggressive as well sometimes, not in a bad way but they can tend to really want what they want...

₊˚⊹♡ Aquarius Juno can mean FS and you can meet online, you can start off as friends. It can mean FS and you can also meet in foreign lands. FS will feel very different from you, FS can also see you as someone very different. Can mean long distance relationship.

₊˚⊹♡ 9H Juno can mean distance, physical mostly, FS and you aren't from the same country. You can meet in foreign lands too. FS and you aren't from the same culture too, you can speak different languages.

₊˚⊹♡ Juno 22° can mean FS respects you a lot, FS sees you as a lady/gentleman, not just a random person. They admire you, they have a very good opinion of you. They have so much respect for you.

₊˚⊹♡ Aries Briede means FS can see you as bold, more courageous than them, they can also think you are more confident. They can think you can also tend to be mad often, or you react quickly to things. They can love to tease you and see you react to things intensely.

₊˚⊹♡ 11H Briede means FS also sees you as a friend, they think you are their spouse but also their best friend at the same time. You'll develop a friendship first before being together.

₊˚⊹♡ Briede 29° can mean FS can admire you, think you are the best, they can also see you in a very glowy light. They can think you are their queen, and think you are their favorite person ever.

₊˚⊹♡ 6H Chiron can mean there will be an obstacle related to FS' schedule. Perhaps FS can be busy, this means this can be something that will cause problems in your marriage. FS can have health issues, be sick often, or they can have a weak health. FS can work too much, not like their job, feel in burn out, or be depressed about their job.

₊˚⊹♡ Chiron 11° means FS can also struggles with connecting with people. It can be struggling to make friends, struggling to define friendships, struggling to put boundaries with people, etc.

₊˚⊹♡ Libra Union can tell us FS can see your meeting as a romantic meeting. They can think it's a date, even if it's not for you. They are romantically interested in you since the start. FS can also try to seduce you in the first meeting.

₊˚⊹♡ 5H Union means FS will flirt a lot with you when you will meet. FS can act like a child on your first meeting, or like someone who feels love for the first time, like a teenager's first date. FS can be funny and amusing too.

₊˚⊹♡ Union 24° first meeting can feel very soft, something new, something so sweet. FS can feel like this is a divine connection, meant to be, destined to meet.

₊˚⊹♡ Leo Stellium can mean FS can be quite proud, in their ego, they can sometimes be selfish and act for their own good. They can be quite mean or in a bad mood if their ego is hurt. Can be generous, can also want attention.

₊˚⊹♡ Cancer Boda can mean your FS can want a romantic and private wedding. They can want to do it in their homeland, with both your close family. They can have the idea of a very cute wedding, perhaps close to the beach or water.

₊˚⊹♡ 1H Boda can mean FS can quickly think of marrying you, they can also talk about marriage very soon in your relationship, or after meeting you. They can also recognize you as their spouse when they see you, like seeing you and "knowing" they will marry you. Can indicate a quick marriage in the relationship.

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back to index ; ask ; request ; rules

[ms-snape]

Hii, I‘d love to request an younger Severus Story, where he gets set up on a blind date by Lucius and Narcissa to get his mind off of Lily

The date turns out to be one of Narcissas friends who he sits besides in one of his classes, who he always has found very interesting and pretty

Title: Blind Date

Warning: None

Words Count: 2800+

Masterlist

---

Severus Snape was not one to believe in the whimsicalities of fate. But then, there were days when he couldn't help but wonder if life had a funny way of playing with him. He had always considered himself a man of logic, someone who would not be swayed by frivolous emotions. And yet, there he was, daydreaming about Lily Evans in the middle of a rather important Potions lesson, staring out the window instead of focusing on the bubbling cauldron in front of him.

Lily, with her bright red hair and those emerald eyes that sparkled with warmth and kindness, had been his obsession since they first met at the age of nine. He was certain she'd never look at him the way he looked at her—how could she? He was just Severus Snape, the shy, awkward, slightly odd boy with a dark reputation, while she was the shining star, surrounded by friends who adored her.

But there was someone else in his Potions class who always caught his eye, though he tried to ignore it. Y/N. She wasn’t like Lily—no, Y/N had a quiet elegance about her, with a mysterious air that Severus found fascinating. Her long hair, dark as a raven’s wing, framed her face perfectly, and she always seemed lost in thought, as if she were pondering something far more important than whatever they were learning. She was pretty, yes, but she was also clever, independent, and a touch distant—qualities that Severus admired but also didn’t know how to approach.

He had never spoken to her, never had the courage to cross that boundary. Instead, he observed her from the corner of his eye, day after day. She was a Slytherin, though not in the same social circle as him but still a close friend to Narcissa Black. She was more quiet, more reserved, more… unlike the rest of the Slytherins who crowded the common room, loudly boasting about their latest exploits or schemes.

But then there was Lily, always at the forefront of his mind. Always. And that was the problem. Severus could never seem to break free of his obsession with her, and no matter how much he tried, it felt as though his heart would always belong to Lily Evans.

At least, until one afternoon, when the weight of his unrequited love for Lily was finally too much for some of his friends to bear.

"Severus," Lucius Malfoy said, his voice smooth as ever, leaning against the doorframe of their shared Potions classroom, "you've got to stop this nonsense with Evans."

Severus, who had been staring at the delicate glass vials lined up on the desk before him, stiffened at the sound of his name. Lucius always seemed to know when he was lost in his thoughts. Narcissa, standing beside him, was looking at Severus with an almost exasperated expression.

"She's never going to notice you, Severus," Narcissa added, her voice cool but tinged with concern. "We need to do something about it. You're wasting away."

Severus opened his mouth to protest, but Lucius cut him off.

"Don't bother," Lucius said with a sly grin. "We’ve already come up with a solution."

Before Severus could ask what that solution was, Narcissa flicked her blonde hair over her shoulder and smiled slyly.

"We’ve set you up on a date."

"A date?" Severus blinked, incredulous. "With who?"

Narcissa’s smile widened. "With one of my friends. I think you'll find her… quite interesting."

Severus didn’t have time to argue. Lucius was already pulling out a small piece of parchment with details scribbled hastily on it.

"It’s at Madam Pudifoot's Tea Shop," Lucius said. "Tomorrow. Seven o’clock. Don’t worry, we’ve arranged everything."

Severus’ stomach tightened in a mixture of anxiety and confusion. He didn’t want this. He didn’t need it. But as Narcissa’s gaze bore into him, he realized that he had little choice in the matter.

The next day, Severus found himself pacing outside the entrance to Madam Pudifoot’s, the quaint and overly pink tea shop that had somehow become popular among Hogwarts students, despite its tendency to give him a headache just by looking at it. He felt utterly out of place, his black robes stark against the pastel-colored walls and frilly tablecloths.

When he walked in, a bell tinkled above the door, and the smell of lavender tea and scones wafted through the air. Severus couldn’t help but feel a little ridiculous as he stood in the doorway, searching for the person he was supposed to meet. He half-hoped to see Lily waiting for him, but of course, that was impossible. This was a blind date, arranged by Narcissa, and he had no idea who he was supposed to be meeting.

Then, as if from nowhere, a soft, melodic voice caught his attention.

"Severus? Are you… Severus Snape?"

He turned, and there she was. Y/N.

Her long dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her green dress seemed to shimmer in the soft lighting of the shop. Her smile was warm, but there was a nervous edge to it, just like the way he was feeling.

"Y/N?" he asked, almost too quietly. "What are you doing here?"

She tilted her head, her lips curling into a small, amused grin. "It seems that Narcissa thought it would be fun to set us up." She raised an eyebrow. "I’m assuming you're as surprised as I am."

Severus felt his heart skip a beat. He hadn’t been expecting this. He had been bracing himself for an awkward encounter with someone else entirely, but here was Y/N—the very person he had admired from afar, sitting across from him at a small table, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.

"I—" Severus stopped himself, unsure of what to say. "I didn’t know it was you."

"Neither did I," she admitted with a soft laugh. "But I suppose we’re here now, so we might as well enjoy it."

They sat in a slightly awkward silence for a moment before the waitress arrived, offering them menus. Severus found himself staring at the menu, but he wasn’t really seeing it. His mind was spinning. Y/N was here. On a date. With him. Not Lily. Y/N.

"So," Y/N said after a moment, breaking the silence, "what have you been up to, Severus? I don’t think we’ve ever really had a proper conversation before."

It was true. They hadn’t. And Severus found himself oddly relieved. This was a blank slate, a chance to get to know her, not as the distant girl in his Potions class, but as someone who might actually become… more.

"I—well, I've been working on my Potions," Severus said, then immediately regretted it. "You know, trying to perfect a few of them."

Y/N smiled, a knowing look in her eyes. "I’ve always thought you were one of the best in Potions," she said, and Severus felt a heat rise in his cheeks. "But you’re also a bit of a mystery, Severus. Why is that?"

His heart pounded a little faster at the question. It was so open, so direct. There was something in her eyes—an understanding, maybe? Or a curiosity?

"I suppose… I’m not very good at opening up to people," Severus confessed, his voice quieter now. "I’ve never really been one for… socializing."

Y/N nodded, her expression thoughtful. "I understand. I’m not exactly the most social person either." She paused. "But sometimes it’s nice to have someone to talk to, don’t you think?"

Severus found himself nodding, but he was still unsure. Was this really happening? Was he really sitting here, with Y/N? It felt almost surreal.

The evening passed quickly, and to Severus’ surprise, he found himself genuinely enjoying the conversation. They talked about everything and nothing—Potions, of course, but also books, the latest gossip at Hogwarts, and their shared experiences as Slytherins in a school that often seemed to push them to the sidelines. By the time they finished their tea and dessert, Severus realized something he hadn’t expected: he was no longer thinking about Lily.

Instead, he was thinking about Y/N.

They walked out of the tea shop together, and Severus felt a sense of peace he hadn’t known in a long time. The night air was cool against his skin, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it felt oddly comforting.

"I… I’m glad Narcissa set this up," Severus said quietly, not looking at her but feeling her presence next to him, comforting and warm.

"Me too," Y/N agreed. "I think we make a good pair."

Severus couldn’t help but smile. It was an unfamiliar feeling, but he liked it.

Maybe, just maybe, fate had a hand in this after all.

Weeks had passed since that fateful evening at Madam Pudifoot’s. Severus found himself thinking about Y/N more often than he had ever thought about anything else. Their dates—yes, dates—had become a regular occurrence. After that first meeting, he had found that Y/N was a surprisingly easy person to be around. They’d spent time in quiet corners of the library, discussing their shared love for Potions and the art of brewing the most complicated of brews. They’d visited Hogsmeade together, strolling through the cobbled streets with nothing but the sound of the wind and their quiet laughter accompanying them.

Each date, each conversation, left Severus feeling more at ease. He never expected to enjoy spending time with anyone as much as he enjoyed being with her. For the first time in what felt like forever, he found himself genuinely looking forward to seeing someone—not just because she was a welcome distraction, but because she was someone who understood him in a way that few people ever had.

Y/N, for her part, seemed equally comfortable with him. The distance he’d once put between them, the awkwardness, had slowly vanished as the weeks passed. Her wit and intelligence matched his own, and they both found joy in the most mundane of activities, simply because they were in each other’s company.

It wasn’t just that she was pretty—though she was undeniably that—it was her quiet, thoughtful nature, the way she could sit with him for hours in companionable silence, or the way she would challenge him in discussions about magic, Potions, and life itself.

Severus had never believed in love at first sight. But he was beginning to wonder if there was something more than coincidence behind the way things were unfolding.

One afternoon, as Severus sat in the Slytherin common room, his mind lost in thoughts of Y/N, he was interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Severus."

He looked up to see Lucius Malfoy standing there, a curious expression on his face. Narcissa was just behind him, her eyes gleaming with the same sort of interest that Severus had come to recognize in them when they were scheming.

"Lucius," Severus said, his voice a little guarded. He wasn’t exactly keen on being interrogated about his personal life, but given his friends' penchant for prying, he suspected that was exactly what was about to happen.

Narcissa took a seat next to him, her tone casual, but with a knowing edge. "We’ve been noticing something, Severus," she said, her eyes narrowing slightly in amusement. "You’ve been spending an awful lot of time with Y/N lately."

Severus stiffened slightly, though he did his best to hide it. "I… I suppose we’ve gotten along well. What of it?"

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "I’m asking because it seems that you’ve… become rather fond of her." He let the words hang in the air, almost as if testing the waters.

Severus felt a knot form in his stomach. He didn’t want to admit it—not to Lucius, not to Narcissa—but it was true. He had become fond of Y/N. More than fond, if he was being honest with himself. His feelings for her had only grown stronger with each passing day. She was no longer just the girl he’d noticed from afar in Potions class—she was someone he genuinely cared about.

He opened his mouth, then closed it, unsure of how to respond.

Lucius, ever the opportunist, pressed further. "So, Severus, tell me. Is it serious between you two?"

Narcissa leaned in slightly, her expression softening as she spoke. "You’ve always been rather reserved with your emotions, Severus. But if it’s serious, you should be honest with yourself. And with her."

Severus’ heart was pounding in his chest. He hadn’t fully acknowledged it yet, not in the way Narcissa and Lucius seemed to want him to, but the question was inevitable. He had spent weeks with Y/N, sharing laughs and moments of genuine connection. He was feeling something, something deep and real.

"I—" Severus hesitated, his mind racing, "I think it might be."

Lucius grinned, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Well, there you go. I always knew you weren’t as hopeless as you let on."

Narcissa, ever the more calculating of the two, tilted her head thoughtfully. "You should talk to her about it, Severus. Don’t let this opportunity slip away." Her voice was calm, but there was a sincerity there that Severus hadn’t expected.

The next day, Severus found himself walking down to the courtyard where he and Y/N had agreed to meet. His thoughts were a jumbled mess. Lucius’ questions had brought everything into sharp focus: he did care for Y/N. More than care, he wanted to be with her. He hadn’t been sure of it at first—he’d been so consumed by his obsession with Lily, by his doubts and insecurities. But with Y/N, it felt different. She made him feel seen, understood in a way no one else had.

As he approached the spot where they had planned to meet, he saw her sitting by the fountain, her back to him, her long hair swaying gently in the breeze. The sight of her heartened him, but also left him feeling a bit anxious. He had no idea how she felt about him. Was she just enjoying their time together? Or had she begun to feel something more?

When she turned and saw him, a smile blossomed on her face, and Severus felt his anxiety melt away, just a little.

"Severus," she greeted, standing and brushing the grass from her robes. "You’re early today."

"I wasn’t sure if you’d be on time," Severus replied, his voice softer than usual. "But I’m glad you’re here."

They fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, as they often did, both of them unsure of what to say next. Then, Y/N spoke, her voice quieter than before.

"You’ve been distant lately," she said, her eyes searching his. "I can tell there’s something on your mind."

Severus took a deep breath. This was it. He couldn’t keep hiding behind his doubts. Not anymore.

"I’ve been thinking about us," he said, his voice steady but his heart racing. "And I realized something… I care about you, Y/N. More than I’ve ever cared about anyone."

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise, but there was no fear in them, only curiosity and something else. Hope, maybe. Her lips parted slightly, as though she was about to say something, but Severus took a step closer, not wanting to wait any longer.

"I know I’ve been… hesitant," he continued. "But after everything we’ve shared, I can’t deny how I feel. You’re not just a distraction for me. You’re not just some pretty face. You make me feel things I didn’t know I could feel."

For a moment, there was only the sound of the wind between them. Then Y/N stepped forward, closing the distance, her hands reaching for his.

"Severus," she whispered, her voice soft yet clear. "I’ve felt the same way. I didn’t know how to say it, but… I’m glad you did."

And in that moment, as if the entire world had aligned just for them, Severus felt his heart swell with emotion. Slowly, he leaned in, his breath hitching, and pressed his lips gently to hers.

It was tentative at first—neither of them sure how to navigate this new, delicate part of their relationship. But as the seconds passed, it became more natural, more real. The kiss deepened, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Severus felt truly alive. All the confusion, the doubt, the years of loneliness—it all melted away in the warmth of Y/N’s kiss.

When they finally pulled apart, Severus kept his forehead resting against hers, his hands still holding hers.

"So," Y/N said softly, her smile shy but sincere, "does this mean we're… official?"

Severus smirked, his usual guarded expression slipping away in the face of her warmth. "I think it does."

And for the first time in years, Severus Snape felt like he had found something worth fighting for. Something more important than anything he had ever known.

The next few weeks passed in a blur of shared moments, laughter, and quiet companionship. Severus had never felt more certain about anything. Y/N was his, and he was hers. And in the quiet of the night, when the world seemed still and he allowed himself a rare moment of peace, Severus couldn’t help but think that perhaps, just perhaps, he had found something even more powerful than magic.

Love.

[togglesbloggle]

Voltaire's Prayer

“I have never made but one prayer to God, a very short one: Oh Lord, make my enemies ridiculous. And God granted it." -Volaire’s letter to Étienne Noël Damilaville, 16 May 1767

I’m inordinately fond of sex, in the political sense.  It’s saved us so often from the worst parts of ourselves.

As far as anti-authoritarian elements of the human experience go, sex is right up there with curiosity and the search for truth- maybe even more so.  When a new tyrant comes to town, shutting down the universities and the libraries is only the second thing they try.  The first thing is to regulate human sexuality to within an inch of its life.  Rules for marriage, rules for courtship, rules for which genitals may touch and where they may touch and when they may touch.  Rules for who and rules for whom.  Rules for which kinds of sex must doom characters in literature, rules for which things may be described as sexy, rules for which things may be described in a sexy way.

Of course they do!  If you’re trying to bind a large polity together under a common ideological narrative, to render people predictable enough to quash dissent and legible enough to exert power through them, the last thing you need is a bunch of folks running around being horny about stuff without permission.  Nature gifted us with a great capacity for reason and community; we have the innate opportunity to learn about ourselves and our neighbors, and to form complex societies based on that understanding.  It was Aristotle who first called us the political animal, and the fruits of that extraordinary capacity will always be within our reach, if only we can come together within a shared understanding.  The invention of the city is the great triumph of our species, and with it we conquer the universe.

But also this extraordinary, reasoning mind has been sculpted from the raw clay of a biology that’s anchored in sexual reproduction, and this ends up being very, very funny.

The problem isn’t so much that the sex instinct exists, per se.  It’s how it’s implemented.  Like most biological forms, the full complement of 86 billion(!) neurons in your brain aren’t encoded in a particular configuration; the brain is much too complex to be described so precisely in the only ~725 megabytes or so of human DNA.  The particular shape of your brain is in there somewhere- the lobes and subregions responsible for vision, memory, cognition, all that- but only up to a point.  The genius and fundamental limitation of genetics is that, below a certain level, the genes instead describe a process for the production and reproduction of specialized cells, and simply constructs them in such a way that they can be relied upon to order themselves as they go.

This is all well and good when we’re talking about kidneys and livers, but the fact that you can encode any kind of specific behavioral instinct in a brain this way is nothing short of a minor miracle.  Think about it!  Spiders don’t have a ‘spider web’ gene, the gene is for ‘proteins that come together in self-assembling electrochemically sensitive gelatin tissue which, when complete, encodes patterns that operate organ systems such as legs and spinnerets in such a way as to reliably create silk webs.’  This is absurdly impressive, and also completely insane.

What I’m getting at is, powerful behavioral instincts in a complex animal aren’t precise instruction manuals by which we pursue evolutionarily advantageous behaviors.  Sex and eros are prior to logic or language, let alone strategy.  Sex is a double-thick electrical wire discharging lightning bolts right through the middle of our cognitive centers, installed in the brain by a surgeon wearing mittens.  It’s an untethered firehose whipping chaotically through the cathedral, unpredictably spraying golden reliquaries with substances unmentionable.  It’s the first and greatest anarchist.

I really can’t overstate my gratitude for this.

Obviously this results in any number of deeply goofy outcomes by way of kinks and odd sexual practices- it gets tangled with pain centers, with random bits of anatomy and proprioception, with our taboos and aversions, with our greatest terrors or our greatest yearnings or just arbitrary stimuli from adolescence, and of course it gets enmeshed so often with our notions of power and submission.  It imbues these things with a fascination and potency out of all proportion with their mundane meanings.  And ultimately, you end up with human pleasures and human values that diverge so far from banal evolutionary imperatives as to be all but unrecognizable.

Even when this process somehow manages to propagate through the brain in such a way as to drive behaviors that are legibly aligned towards some adaptive constraint- e.g. heterosexual mating practices resulting in biological reproduction and careful childrearing- it’s still madness.  Love and sex penetrate deeply across tribal and national and racial boundaries, across economic interests, across battle-lines and enmities.  We become traitors, apostates, emigrants, and artists.  Declare a law, and in short order some hot-headed young people come along to break it in the name of sexual passions you could not possibly have seen coming.  Divide your neighborhood into us and them, and by the time the ink is dry on your proclamation there will be a forbidden relationship across the fence.  There is no social order, no ethical system, no theory of human nature that can entirely withstand contact with the full spectrum of human sexuality, because sex and eros are always going to be exactly as bonkers as the complexity of the human mind and culture will allow, plus a little extra just to be sure.

This isn’t always a delight, of course.  Many prohibitions exist for a very good reason, and the chaos of human sexuality makes no exemptions for true evil.  Some of us end up really, truly victims of this process.  But for all the dangers, the chaos at the root of all this isn’t oriented towards evil.  Chaos just means chaos, essentially arbitrary and hence absurd in character.

And in the grand analysis, we are so lucky to have this thing moving through our communities, this ridiculous madness that guarantees that there will be cracks in every wall and slips exploding cigars in the pockets of the powerful few.  Not in everybody as individuals, of course, and not everybody the same amount; asexuality is certainly one of the outcomes that all this mad gallivanting through our brains can produce.  Sexuality would never be so predictable as to guarantee its own existence, after all.  That’s part of what makes the joke so funny.

But all of us, regardless of sexuality, get to live in a world where the grand anarchy of sex is constantly driving home this lesson that no category is inviolate and no law is perfect.  That we should not and cannot take ourselves too seriously, or forget that we’re animals.  That we don’t exist only for the sake of others, or within their understanding.  That cities are made of cooperation, grace, and forbearance- not conformity or mere compliance.

People sometimes worry about immortality.  In the political sense, I mean.  They worry about eternal dictatorships and unconquerable gerontocracies.  This fear isn’t entirely unjustified; death has often played a role in progress and liberation.  But as long as enough of us are still getting horny without permission, still falling in love in stupid ways, I think we’ll be okay.  Romeo and Juliet don’t have to die at the end to make a difference in the world, as long as they’re brave enough to get weird with it.

[brittneyspears6]

Sky sports love | NR6

Nico Rosberg x Reporter!fem!reader

summary: Nico and you are a reporter pair on sky sports and somehow unserious banter turns into something real really quick..

warnings: none, a kiss

not proofread

a/n: I wasn’t sure if you wanted smut in it, so I left it out for now but there are smut fics in work for our dear britney 🙂‍↕️

masterlist | rules | prompts

The thing about working in F1 is that you learn to hold your own.

You’ve spent years perfecting the art of the quick-witted interview, of slipping between charm and challenge with just enough finesse to get the answers you need without stepping on too many toes. You know how to banter with drivers, how to navigate the politics of the paddock, how to keep your cool when tensions run high.

And then there’s him.

Nico Rosberg, 2016 World Champion turned pundit, whose on-screen presence is equal parts insightful and insufferable. He challenges you in a way most don’t—whether it’s an on-air debate about tire strategy or a smug comment about your latest post-race interview. He’s sharp, calculated, always looking for the upper hand.

So, naturally, you push back.

It starts small—pointed remarks, playful eye rolls, the occasional dramatic sigh whenever he insists on proving a point. The fans eat it up. Clips of your interviews together rack up views, Twitter threads dissect every exchange, and soon enough, you’re both leaning into the dynamic.

But somewhere along the way, it stops being just for show.

It happens in Monaco.

The weekend is relentless—packed schedules, unbearable heat, and a media pen so chaotic it feels like a war zone. By the time Sunday evening rolls around, your patience is hanging by a thread, your feet are aching, and you’re running on nothing but caffeine and sheer willpower.

That’s when Nico finds you, leaning against a barrier near the paddock, sipping the last dregs of a lukewarm water bottle.

“Tough weekend?”

You glance up, too exhausted to throw back your usual sharp remark. “Something like that.”

He studies you for a second, then—before you can ask why he’s still standing there—says, “Come on.”

You frown. “Come on where?”

He shrugs. “Anywhere but here.”

Fifteen minutes later, you’re on the deck of a yacht, your heels kicked off, a cold drink in hand. It’s not his yacht, but a friend’s—one of the many floating in the marina, buzzing with post-race celebrations.

Except this one is quiet. Peaceful. Away from the chaos.

You exhale slowly, letting the night air cool your skin. From here, the city feels distant—the bright lights reflecting off the water, the sounds of revelry muffled by the gentle rocking of the boat.

Nico is beside you, leaning against the railing, his expression unusually relaxed.

“You know,” he says eventually, “I think I like you better when you’re not trying to prove me wrong.”

You snort. “That’s funny, because I definitely like you better when you’re not trying to be right all the time.”

He laughs, shaking his head. But then he turns to you, something unreadable in his gaze.

“I’m serious.”

Your smirk falters. There’s something different in his tone—something quieter, more certain.

You open your mouth, but he speaks first.

“I know what this is,” he says, watching you carefully. “What it should be. Just friendly banter, a good TV dynamic, nothing more.” He exhales, fingers tapping idly against the railing. “But tell me you don’t feel it too.”

Your breath catches.

You should say something—something logical, something that keeps things uncomplicated.

But the truth is, you do. You have for a while now.

The teasing, the debates, the way your eyes always seem to find each other across the paddock—it’s always been more than just professional rivalry. You just weren’t sure if he felt it too.

Until now.

The silence stretches, the weight of unspoken words hanging between you.

Finally, you swallow, forcing yourself to speak. “And if I do?”

A slow smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Then I guess we have a problem.”

But he doesn’t look troubled at all.

And maybe, just maybe, you aren’t either.

The weight of his words lingers in the air between you, thick like the Monaco humidity.

“Then I guess we have a problem.”

You should be more cautious. You are cautious—your whole career has been built on staying sharp, keeping things professional, never giving anyone a reason to question your position in this world.

And yet, standing here, under the glow of the city lights, with Nico watching you like he already knows what choice you’re going to make… you can’t bring yourself to step away.

Instead, you tilt your head, lips curving slightly. “And what exactly do you propose we do about this problem?”

His smile is slow, knowing. “Well,” he says, eyes flicking over your face, “we could ignore it.”

You arch a brow. “That doesn’t sound like something you’re particularly good at.”

Nico exhales a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “No, I suppose not.”

Silence settles again, but it’s different now—charged, crackling like the air before a storm. His fingers are still tapping against the railing, but you notice now that it’s more deliberate, like he’s holding himself back.

You could walk away right now. You could turn this into nothing more than a fleeting moment, something to laugh about later when you’re both back under the bright lights of the paddock, playing your parts in front of the cameras.

Or..

You take a slow step forward. Not enough to close the space completely, but enough to make your intention clear.

Nico doesn’t move back.

“So if we’re not ignoring it,” you say carefully, “what’s the alternative?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, his gaze drops briefly—to your mouth, then back up—before he finally says, voice quieter now, “We see where it goes.”

Your stomach flips.

“See where it goes.” That sounds simple. It sounds like something two rational adults could do without too much trouble. But nothing about this—about him—feels simple.

You should ask what that even means. If this is some fleeting, post-race, adrenaline-fueled interest, or if it’s something deeper. If he’s thought about this before tonight. If he’s been waiting for you to catch up.

But you don’t ask.

Because suddenly, his hand is brushing against yours—light, tentative, testing the waters. And instead of pulling away, you let your fingers curl slightly, just enough to let him know you’re right there with him.

His breath hitches. Just barely. But you catch it.

Then, in a voice just above a whisper, he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

And the only thing you can do is nod.

Later, when the world is quiet and the night has settled into something softer, you find yourself still standing on that yacht, still wrapped in the aftershock of what just happened.

You should be panicking. You should be overanalyzing every second of it.

But when Nico looks at you, expression warm and unreadable all at once, the only thing you can think is

You don’t regret it. Not even a little bit.

-

nico in that blue shirt did something to me ✋🫠

[nymph-ette111]

Do you write about Ben Drowned? (Adult version yk)

I would like to ask for romantic headcannons of him with Fem!Reader :D (It can be SFW or NSFW or both, as you like)

That's it! Ily <3

AUTHOR'S NOTE; been a hot minute since I wrote for BEN :) really enjoyed writing this one! The fanart of this guy is fucking scrumptious.

WARNINGS; MANY SUGGESTIVE THINGS/MENTIONS OF SEX/MENTIONS OF GORE/MENTIONS OF GETTING STONED AND HIGH

-He prefers possessing electronics instead of taking a physical form, which means endless torment for you.

-On your phone, your computer, anywhere that has a screen or speaker, he's there. And he'll let you know he's there. Whether it be obnoxious moaning sounds to piss you off or straight up gore pictures to jump-scare you.

-At one point it becomes way too much and you have to seriously sit him down and tell him directly that flashing pictures of real human intestines and mutilated bodies is NOT a good way to get your attention.

-He has a fucked up sense of humor and a degradation kink so it's not going to work out for you because he's not even focused on what you're saying during the entirety of your lecture.

-BEN's logic is "she's telling me to stop but I'm not going to because I find it funny" so he always ends up taking things too far because he thinks you're enjoying it as much as he is.

-I think the best way to get the message across is to give him the silent treatment, that's how he'll know that you're actually being serious.

-He'll give you space, wouldn't want to risk anything but you can tell he's still there—lurking around, waiting for you to call for him and he'd be by your side immediately. Pouting like a kicked puppy.

-Does he learn from this experience? Nope! Give him a couple of months and the questionable videos are reappearing... Just weird content, at least it's not gore anymore.

-Avid 4chan user I will DIE on this hill.

-Has doxxed people on there countless of times. Ragebait master.

-Zero dating experience, you're his first everything. The personality and knowledge of a teenage boy (before anyone starts I see BEN as an ageless entity NOT a twelve year old)

-That being said, you have to teach him a lot. Both dating and in bed.

-All of his sex knowledge is taken from cheap pornos on questionable sites. Like actually, tell me this guy finds his porn on the dark web and I wouldn't even question it.

-Made an entire post about this a while back but DO NOT PLAY VIDEO GAMES WITH HIM, HE IS NOT FAIR! WILL HIJACK YOUR DEVICE TO MESS YOU UP!

-It hurts me to say this but I don't sense a big dick here... just cannot imagine this guy with a monster in between his legs but we'll say so just for the fantasy ¯⁠\⁠(⁠°⁠_⁠o⁠)⁠/⁠¯

-Back to my previous point of him being inexperienced, he's all perverted remarks and fantasies but the second you do something as simple as brushing your hand over his thigh or something he's immediately short circuiting. You can tell because the glitching becomes more apparent and consistent.

-Also talk about fantasies... Yeah inexperienced BUT LORD HAVE MERCY! any kink you have 99% chance that he's into that too. Has rubbed it to a couple of questionable things before.

-The only thing he wouldn't actually do is things that involve piss or vomit, age play... but that's about it. Anything else and he's down for it.

-Has tried getting you to dress up as his favorite fictional girls, up for you to decide whether you want to play into that or decline.

-If you're looking for some dirt to dig on any of the creeps then... you're dating the perfect person. Manages to find the most INSANE information so easily. It's kind of bad for you too because, yes, he will find your most embarrassing childhood pictures that a family member posted on Facebook. May or may not print it out and tape it all over the mansion for shits and giggles.

-He's kind of the lolcow of the mansion. That being said, his powers and skills are often overlooked and dismissed by the other creeps until they need him for something and then he's back to being underestimated. Tell him that he matters, he won't realize how much he needs it until you say it.

-Has a digital shrine dedicated to you. Is ashamed you wouldn't match his freak so the shrine is a secret, for now.

-Any attention from you equals good attention. Loves pissing you off (as long as it's not serious and you're not actually mad at him)

-Lazy stoner boyfriend detected!

-Isn't a romantic date type of guy—wine, lit candles, nicely prepared dinner, rose petals leading to the bed... Nope. Prefers being comfortable because the former makes him feel like he's preforming. What's better than lazily chilling on the bed with your hot girlfriend, a shitty show on that nobody is paying attention to, and being so high you enter a completely different dimension?

-Disgusting perv but I think it's very clear by now lol

[aardvaark]

leverage rewatch: s1e6 "the miracle job"

its cute that they're all being invited to sophie's plays apparently, though clearly it's not so much as invitation as it is an obligation lol. but it's cute she wants them there and they all go and try to pretend it was good. i mean, parker says "it was like a horror movie" lmao but that seems to be her attempt at praising it.

eliot saying that sophie's play was THE worst night of his life, including times he was actually tortured, is always hilarious to me.

the first maggie mention!! she's the one who calls nate to tell him that his priest friend paul is in hospital.

nate thinking he has to convince the team to take the case (since it's kinda a personal favor to a friend after all), but they're all very much in already! they're well and truly past needing to be convinced. and we're only at ep 6. compare this to the wedding job, ep 3, when nate doesn't want to take the job and they all (besides sophie) want to bail partway through.

eliot being excited to take hardison to face a gang. "let's get you out in some fresh air. get you off the computer. come on!". love that his argument is that getting into a fight would be good for hardison's health.

hardison: i rappelled! did no one see me rappel?? sophie: i heard about it. on the one hand she's saying that to soothe him, which seems sweet, but on the other hand, she's likely only doing that to encourage him to leave with eliot to face that gang lol. this season especially, many of her nice gestures tend to be either a little manipulative or shallow. which just makes sense - she's spent her life looking out only for herself, ultimately alone no matter how many people are around her. her default mode is to manipulate people into what she wants them to do, without even thinking about whether that's necessary or hurtful. it's just her job. it's gonna take a lot more than six episodes to change a lifetime of ingrained beliefs about other people and the world.

hardison gets to punch someone!! not only does he notice the guy's shoulder being off, he also knows it's dislocated, where nate just sad it was "messed up". i love seeing hardison apply his intelligence to problems outside hacking, cause it really goes to show how he's so quick-thinking and a genius in any situation.

for the record, gina bellman spent her early childhood in aotearoa, so i can only assume she's doing a decent job of the kiwi accent.

also i love when sophie looks all offended when the marks don't immediately play into her con lol, even though she's well aware this mark would likely brush her off - that's the whole point of setting up the elevator con. but she still makes this face like "uh! wowww, rude," lol.

who let parker choose the drugs to give this guy lmao?? like of course she laced them with speed, that's on the rest of the team for assuming she'd stick to just caffeine. when has she ever done anything by halves?

and that pays off a few mins later when nate says "parker, i need you to go to the hospital and keep father paul there no matter what [pause] up to a point" lol. he's learning. doesn't help that she has the most evil grin ever when he says that lmao.

and THEN it immediately turns out that parker took his words as permission to poke the priest with needles and take his blood. i wonder what she did with his blood...

hardison being able to make those fake statues too! he is ridiculously talented.

sophie having to remind nate that he never actually cheated on maggie is a little funny to me. and he's saying he was tempted and acting like he did something terrible and she's just like "dude i was there". but that scene's also so very bittersweet cause at this point she really is just waiting for him and here she tells him not to take too long, and, well...

i like how the actor playing this week's mark really takes the comic evil to its logical extreme. he looks feverish almost, in a frenzy. and the team has psychologically destroyed him and he's STILL coming up with new plans for bibletopia, probably the most capitalist hellscape christian-flavored invention imaginable. on that note, i also liked the priest and his arguments with nate, which you can tell comes from frustration with wanting to help a grieving, depressed friend who won't help himself. good guests this episode.

"it's the vatican" *parker, hardison & eliot immediately disappear*. i love the little implication there that they've each wronged the holy see at some point, enough to run off.

okay 1) the team using the confessional as a hiding spot, love it, and 2) parker refers to the confessional as "that closet" lol. apparently she knows that zeus is a god who strikes people down with lightning, but she doesn't know what a confessional is. i love how it's pretty much impossible to predict what things are within her realm of knowledge.

parker as an angel!

i LOVE the arc that the mark's assistant, tomas, has over the course of this episode. yes, good, take down your boss!!

sophie dropping the accent! god that really makes her scary. it's like she's saying, "just to be clear, the last few days have been a complete and utter lie, and there's no one who's got your back".

i like the way the team all watch nate light a candle (something catholics do for the dead), sincerely sombre. probably partly feeling for nate, partly thinking of their own grief. parker watches especially carefully, and takes a big breath in like she's overwhelmed. makes me think of how she suppresses her grief over her brother and so much loss she's experienced in her life.

eliot seems to put a hand on nate's shoulder as they exit the church. he also knows a thing or two about grief.

[yuttikkele]

S2E1 Amok Time: AKA we finally get to learn more about the vulcans because spock's on his period. or he's going through heat. whichever terminology makes this synopsis funnier to you.

alright here we go. the episode i have been recommended to watch the most. could it possibly be gayer than "when i feel friendship for you, i'm ashamed." ?

OH MY GOSH. MOODY MUCH, SPOCK? Yelling, throwing the bowl at the wall, storming out of the room. Well, at least he didn’t overreact guys.

DID THE OPENING THEME CHANGE?? It’s gotten more EPIC. and VOCAL-LY. DEFOREST KELLEY MENTION

Theodore Sturgeon and Joseph Pevney, do you know what you’ve done?

The brattiness of Spock is transferring over to Jim. The repeat of “In all the years that I’ve known you” was despicable.

Spock pulling the “I am fine” card is so awful bro EVERYONE knows you’re not fine.

*spock gets called off of the bridge* Ooooo. Mr. Spock’s in troubleeeee.

Spock looks like an adult that has to go to the doctor alone for the first time.

WHY DID SULU LOOK SO WORRIED WHEN CHEKOV SAID HE WAS GONNA GET SPACE SICK BAHAHAHA

Well chekov I’m sorry to say I think we might be changing course again.

Why did Spock even wait this long to try and get to Vulcan

“No use to ask him, Jim, he won’t talk.” Watch him talk.

DOES SPOCK HAVE A DAUGHTER??? (yutti note. That was not his daughter that was younger T’Pring)

“It has to do with biology.” WOAH. REALLY SPOCK? I HAD NO IDEA! IT'S LIKE THIS WHOLE TIME WE'VE BEEN TALKING ABOUT YOUR BIOLOGY. /sarcasm

Well look at that. He talked.

I think this is supposed to be a comedic scene or something but the unfitting doom and gloom music over it somehow makes it even FUNNIER. Like the biology of Vulcans is REALLY scary guys… you better watch out..

The way Vulcans chose their mates ISN’T logical? Well color me surprised I wasn’t expecting that. (yutti note. it's not logical but they've set up traditions that make it logical. they done loopholed it into being logical)

Jim is really considering this. This Vulcan biology. He’s thinking hard about it.

I wanna know who thought, “Aw yeah, we need a whole episode dedicated to talking about Spock’s sex life.” that resulted in this episode existing.

what is this whole thing with nurse chapel and spock

“By tradition the male is accompanied by his closest friend.” D’awwww

DANG THAT WOMAN IS GORGEOUS (t'pring)

EVERYONE SIDE EYEING AND LOOKING AT EACH OTHER LIKE THOSE STANTWT MEMES WHEN SPOCK SAYS “my wife” BAHAHAHAHA

“Hot as Vulcan” yeah now I know what that phrase means too, McCoy (I have never heard that phrase before)

Arranged marriage at the ripe age of 7 years old? Ok I guess. whatever you say

*POINTS AT SCREEN* OH OH OH THAT’S THE HAND SIGN!!! 🖖🖖

T'Pau: “How do you pledge their behavior?” Spock: “With my life.” Kirk: *looks over at McCoy*. KIRK DO NOT CAUSE SPOCK TO DIE.

“What is it what happened?” Kirk says just like I do at football games.

That one Vulcan background guy (Stonn) is so funny why does he keep looking around like HE doesn’t know what’s going on.

I wanna know WHY she chose Kirk. Did she not want the other guy (stonn) no more? Is she just doing this for fun? Did she feel threatened by Kirk, so she wants Spock to kill him? “Oh? You like him so much? Kill him so I have your full loyalty." type beat?

Spock is managing to talk trying to protect Jim :00

Sorry to interrupt the mating ritual, but Spock’s hitting an insanely devious pose rn

Oh of course Kirk immediately gets a boob window

They're bleeding. His bibis are bleeding.

NO SPOCK. SPOCK’S MORTIFIED. SPOCK IT’S NOT YOUR FAULT, IT’S VULCAN BIOLOGY.

spock were you jealous of ston just then??

Oh miss girl T’Pring had this ALL worked out. Not in Spock’s favor obviously. But a girl gotta do what a girl gotta do.

Did Spock just tell Stonn that having T’Pring isn’t as marvelous as it seems? With T’Pring right there?? BRO.

SPOCK WAS SO HAPPY TO SEE JIM awwww

MCCOY YOU GENIUS. I would’ve been saying bye bye to Kirk then and there. all "guess we'll have to find a new captain" and everything. good thing he's a doctor.

“When I thought I had killed the captain, I had lost all interest in T’Pring.” Gaywad.

ohhh ok so, Spock told Stonn having isn't as good as wanting not because he dislikes t'pring or dislikes having her, but because he got over his vulcan heat or whatever and no longer was drawn to her. ok that makes more sense. still a little bit of a diss to her but whatever. really can't possibly be worse than having to live married to a man who's never there

Ooo a new end credits too!!

ok. gonna be honest. my thoughts? i don't feel like this was entirely incredibly that gay. it was gay, but I don't think it was gayer than "when i feel friendship for you, i'm ashamed." and i might get yelled at for this deduction and told about how it is oh so gay and i might be like "oh i didn't notice that, that is very gay!" but i think one thing stays the same: there's just nothing gayer than yearning.

HOWEVER. upon a rewatch (because i decided to rewatch it without taking notes cause i felt like that was distracting me from the show), i realized something. now let me get this straight. spock went into heat. he very clearly stated that he must mate or die. he came out of heat not having mated or died but instead after fighting jim and thinking him to be dead. so, i feel it is not out of the question to think this implies either he was so shocked by killing kirk, the person he cared for most, that it snapped him out of his heat, OR his body registered that fight as sex. both equally gay options.

additionally, we already know jim is basically the most important person is spock's life, but this episode sorta puts it into perspective. spock says this whole quote about how "having is not so pleasing a thing, after all, as wanting." after he thinks he's killed jim, spock wants jim way more than he wants t'pring. which already in of itself shows how much he likes jim. but what more? when he finds out jim is alive, he's ecstatic. he no longer wants jim. he has him. and as we can tell by this being the happiest we've seen spock, it is a very pleasing thing to him. that is the most romantic part of this episode.

[i-live-here-in-my-house]

Thinking about a world where Sega and Capcom came together and gave us what we all deserve: a Sonic X Ace Attorney crossover game. I would think it'd lean more into a visual novel style, maybe with some parts more similar to the Investigation games where you play as Sonic in kinda an isometric platforming stage? Honestly that part isn't as fully formed in my mind.

Some sort of Eggman plot ends up getting everyone accidentally sent to the world of AA while he's on the search for some kinda spirit channeling maguffin to aid him in a take-over-the‐world-plot. And of course Phoenix "luckiest unlucky man ever" Wright ends up getting himself stuck right in the middle of it all.

For the first/tutorial case I think Sonic would absolutely need to be the defendant. I would think the events of the case probably take place either the same day of or the day after the Sonic cast gets transported into the world. Something along the lines of Sonic not having an alibi because he was moving too fast for them to see him would be a perfect kinda turnabout twist to combine the logic of both series together imo.

Also throughout the whole game there would 100% be a running gag about people mistaking Phoenix and Sonic for eachother purely because of Wright's hair and Sonic's quills

Case two's defendant is a toss up between Knuckles or Tails imo, I lean more towards Knuckles being the one though for one very important reason. Tails would be perfect for the Ace Attorney 'weird girl assistant' role. Obviously Sonic would be tagging along too (because no way in hell would you not be able to have both protagonists hanging out together) but Tails would be totally down to help and Sonic, while he totally wants to help Knux, is very much in a "I could just break him out and be back before they could even notice he's gone" mood which is causing Phoenix just SO much grief.

I think this would probably break from the general mold of AA and not be a murder case and instead be a larceny case, with Knuckles being accused of the crime due to his digging skills, and the fact that tunnels were found all around the property of the stolen object. This is where we learn about this spirit channeling macguffin through either a Pearl cameo, who we learn through fluff dialogue is now an honorary member of Team Rose due to how well she gets along with them. It turns out to actually be Rouge who stole the macguffin under orders from G.U.N to keep it out of Eggman's hands meaning she doesn't sentenced for the crime since she technically didn't break any laws.

Case three's defendant would be Big the Cat because I think it'd be funny. Something along the lines of Big looking for Froggy and ending up at a totally unrelated murder scene. You play as Apollo in this case because he's my favorite boy and I think it'd be funny to watch him struggle with having to deal with Big. Just a general silly case full of wacky crossover fun before getting more seriously into the plot with the final two cases. Also the Chaotix are there because you can't have a mystery game without detective. Are the helping? Are they against you? Not really sure. But it'd be a massive missed opportunity to NOT include them.

Amy would be case four's defendant, with her piko piko hammer being found at the scene and Omega's body being found in pieces. That's right! I think it'd be interesting to have a named character be the victim of one of these cases, but obviously I'm not gonna kill anyone off. I think Omega would be the best pick though since he's a robot and it'll take time for Tails to fix him from the totally wrecked state he's in. I think it'd be fun to have Shadow as a key witness in this case, believing Amy did it. He doesn’t want to suspect she did something like this, but claims he saw her in the act of tearing Omega apart with her hammer, take the macguffin and then bolt.

It goes without saying it's obviously Eggman trying to frame Amy for this, using Metal Sonic to frame her by using his shape shifting powers from Heros to disguise himself as her, take apart Omega to retrieve the macguffin, and get it to Eggman. Leading into the final case.

The final case would be a continuation from there with out heros all joining together to try and stop Eggman from using the machine being powered by the Macguffin. Maybe something about Phoenix needing to come with because his magatama is able to counteract it...? Idk. Get that mandatory Edgeworth cameo in there with it being revealed that him and Franziska were teaming up with Team Dark the whole game to help put a stop to things (Giving us fun Phoenix + Sonic and Edgeworth + Shadow parallels). Of course the heros manage to put a stop to things and everyone goes back to their own world yadda yadda happy ending.

This came out way longer than I expected haha but I hope y'all like the concept! If I had the patience I'd totally write this as a fan fic but I know I don't so if anyone wants to take my idea and expand on it absolutely do it! Just let me know so I can read it too. :3

[blaisenova]

ermmmm like i dunno if you're still doing requests buttt could you do like kustard but it turns to dustard

that dynamic always interested me but i never see much about it :3

anon, has anyone ever told you that you're a genius?

the kustard to dustard pipeline is WOEFULLY UNEXPLORED. WHICH SUCKS BECAUSE IT'S SO FUCKING GOOD. so, naturally, i was REALLY excited when i got this ask. yippie!!! an excuse to write fun fucked up dynamics!!!!!

this one is pretty tame. i can't think of any warnings you might need other than it being like..... long and, obviously, kinda angsty. it's fluffy in the end tho. but that's what you get when you ask me to write i guess LOL

thank you all for the requests btw!! i was NOT expecting so many after the kist fic, but i am pleasantly surprised and am trying to chip away at them as quickly as i can. spat this one out in a few hours, so it might not be my best work, but i'm happy with how it turned out either way :)

as always, the link to this fic on ao3 will be in the reblogs once it's posted, if that's your cup of tea (as it is mine LMAO)

i hope this feeds you well anon. thank you for the ask <3

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

It was undeniable that the multiverse was an entirely cruel and ruthless place.

Or, at least, that was what Red had wholeheartedly believed up until he’d met his other self, in a universe that was so very unlike his own. A universe where the typical LOVE of any given passerby was nothing higher than 1; where Sans and his brother were kind to one another in public; where there was so little need for the royal guard that the worst Sans got for sneaking off to Grillby’s during his shift was a slap on the wrist. It was difficult to believe that a place like that could exist – that it could be self-sustainable, since, logically, their weakness should have led to their downfall – and even harder to look at it as anything more than a childish fantasy that had yet to find its catch.

Initially, Red hated Sans. 

It felt ridiculous, looking back upon it – in the moments when his head lay in Sans’ lap and gentle fingers traced over his scars like they were poetry written in a language Red had never bothered to learn, and he wondered what Sans saw in him that he hadn’t seen; wondered if this was what it felt like to love himself – but it was the truth. It had taken him a while to understand that the circumstances in which they’d grown were enough to turn them into two different people; that hating Sans wasn’t so much like hating himself, or what he could have been, as he wanted it to be.

Really, Sans was so unsuspecting that Red had been foolish enough to let his guard down, forgetting that then was when feeling was the most liable to appear. 

He hadn’t expected to fall in love with the laugh – genuine, unabashed, and lacking all of the gruffness of his own – of someone whose humour was just as terrible as his own.

He’d been far too blind to realise how incredibly endearing it was for someone to wake up and allow themselves to be bleary and half-asleep, cuddling into his arm without even meaning to, even if it meant opening themselves up to being easily picked off.

In allowing someone into his blindspot that he’d believed to be too weak or foolish to use it against him, he’d failed to remember that it was the softest words that cut the deepest, when they would bleed him dry so tenderly and lovingly that he couldn’t even think to fight against the bloodloss; when, instead, he’d lean into the knife and ask them to twist it. The wound was soul deep, and the soul’s wounds could not be so easily ignored.

Though, it was a small price to pay to hear that raucous laughter over jokes that weren’t even funny. Trivial, really, in comparison to soft smiles and gentle touches that moved slowly just to prove to him how tender the world could really be.

“Earth to Red.”

A soul for a soul; a life for a life. They gave one another all of themselves, promised each other that it was enough, and it was. For once, it was, just to be soft.

“Come in, Red.”

There was gentleness in the multiverse, hidden until it was allowed in.

Tiredly, he bat away the hand that waved in front of his sockets, only to grab it by the wrist and pull it back down, firmly, on the crown of his skull. With a laugh, the fingers scratched gentle circles into the bone, and Red hummed happily at the feeling, allowing his sockets to slip shut as he lay against Sans’ legs.

“Where’d you go, space cadet?”

“Nowhere,” he grumbled, sighing softly as he fully relaxed into the touch. “Must’ve dozed off.”

Again, there was that laugh, and Red’s soul fluttered. “With your eyes open?”

“It’s a little known talent of mine,” he hummed.

“Gee, must be handy,” came the response, and amusement never sounded so beautiful. “You’ll have to teach me sometime.”

“Nuh uh,” and he couldn’t stop himself from snorting. “It’s genetic.”

“Ah, damn. Guess we gotta add that to the list of differences.”

“Guess so.” His breath hitched as the hand on his head trailed downward to cup his cheek. His browbones furrowed, ever so slightly, and he felt himself go tense.

“Hey. Look at me.”

After a moment, Red opened his sockets, and there was no sight more welcome than the face of his lover. Each time he saw him was like the first, and Red drank in each of his features as if they’d disappear at any moment: smooth bone, unmarred by chips and cracks; eyelights that glowed softly in dark sockets, like how he imagined fireflies might; ever present, gentle smile that smoothed away his worries. Oh, to be so untouched by cruelty. He’d do anything to keep it that way.

“‘Sup,” he breathed, and Sans’ smile widened as he snorted.

“‘Sup,” he returned. His thumb ran circles over his cheek, and Red leaned into the touch. “You okay?”

With a snicker, he rolled his eyelights at the question. “Super duper.”

Despite himself, Sans laughed too, but, still, pressed on. “You sure? You were spacing out pretty bad before. Like, way out in deep space,” he emphasised, unnecessarily. “No planets around, just stars. Way beyond our galaxy. Uncharted territory. Where no man has gone before.”

“Alright, alright, I get the picture” Red interrupted, though not without chuckling. “‘M okay. Was just thinking.”

When Sans’ head cocked to the side, Red couldn’t help but grin. “About?”

“Uranus.”

At first, his sockets simply narrowed, confused, then all at once, “Ura– Oh. Alright, perv. Har har.”

But, he was laughing, and Red was, too, like it was the funniest joke in the world despite it not even being funny. Maybe it didn’t matter, if Red was the one to say it; if Sans was the one to laugh. Maybe, then, it could be good, even if it wasn’t, really. The sound of their laughter, something shared and sacred, was what Red imagined it might feel like to hear the birds chirp when the sun rose and turned the sky whatever colours it was supposed to when it drove the night away. He hoped that it was blue, like Sans’ favourite colour, but the pictures in his textbooks were too faded to be sure.

When he tuned back in, the laughter had tapered off.

“You do that a lot, y’know,” Sans noted, almost absentmindedly, and his hands turned back to trailing shapes on Red’s skull.

He grunted at the feeling. “Do what?”

“Go to space,” Sans said, simply. “Or… somewhere else. That I can’t reach.”

Red frowned, closing his sockets to cut off the dull thrum of agony he felt in his soul whenever Sans’ smile didn’t reach his eyes like that. “I do it less than I used to. It used to be better, somewhere else – anywhere else – but ‘m not so sure anymore.”

“Where would you wanna go?” he asked, in a whisper. “If you could go anywhere. Anywhere at all.”

For a moment, Red considered. The answer would have been easy before – the surface, of course. Where Paps and every other monster longed to be – but access to the multiverse had opened up options that he’d never known existed. If he could conceive of a place, it surely existed, somewhere. Any place. Anywhere. Anywhere at all. But, if kindness was so thoroughly hidden, why should he want to look for it anywhere else?

“Think I’d rather just stay here,” he hummed. “With you.”

Maybe he should have questioned the way that Sans’ hands stilled at his answer. Maybe he should have opened his eyes; looked at his face; seen his expression; known what it meant.

But, he didn’t.

“Geez,” Sans breathed, with a laugh that sounded breathless. “My answer feels stupid in comparison.”

“Yeah? What’s yours?”

“Anywhere else. Anywhere at all.”

In hindsight, Red should have known it was too good to last; too good to stay good.

A universe where the typical LOVE of any given passerby was nothing higher than 1; where Sans and his brother were kind to one another in public; where there was so little need for the royal guard that the worst Sans got for sneaking off to Grillby’s during his shift was a slap on the wrist. It was difficult to believe that a place like that could exist – that it could be self-sustainable, since, logically, their weakness should have led to their downfall – and even harder to look at it as anything more than a childish fantasy that had yet to find its catch.

Of course, there was a catch. 

There was always a catch. Every childish fantasy grew tainted with time, like the innocence of children was stripped with age. Every fairy tale book grew weary and old, pages yellowed and frayed. Every picture faded, until you couldn’t be sure whether the sky was blue or grey.

But, you hoped it was blue anyway, and maybe that was your mistake.

It was undeniable that the multiverse was an entirely cruel and ruthless place. That was what Red wholeheartedly believed. Maybe, after all, there was a reason that love and LOVE were spelled the same.

Try as he might, though, Red could not hate him.

It felt ridiculous – in the moments when hands clamped around his neck like a vice, choked by the grip and the grief that came with it, as if the two were one in the same, and they would both cry, both tremble in fear, or fury, or something worse, and Red would think that this was what it was like to hate himself – but it was the truth. It had taken him a while to understand that the circumstances in which they’d changed were enough to turn them into two different people; that hating Dust wasn’t so much like loving himself, or what he could have been, as he wanted it to be.

Really, Red had underestimated Dust as he had been before; had assumed that kindness meant the incapacity for cruelty.

And, in allowing someone into his blindspot that he’d believed to be too weak or foolish to use it against him, he’d failed to remember that it was the softest words that cut the deepest, when they would leave scars so deep that all he could think of was how much he missed the feeling; when he’d search for the knife and throw himself against it. The wound was soul deep, and the soul’s wounds could not be so easily ignored.

Before, he’d thought it was a small price to pay. Trivial, really, in comparison to what he had to gain from it. As if it were a simple transaction as opposed to something living, and breathing, and ever changing; as if he would never have to be the one who was tender; as if that made it anything less valuable.

“Red.”

A soul for a soul; a life for a life. They gave one another all of themselves, promised each other that it was enough, and it was. Just as before, it was. Harsher now, but Dust had taught Red to be soft, and Red would teach him what he’d forgotten.

“Red.”

There was gentleness in the multiverse, hidden until it was allowed in.

With a jolt, he came back to reality to a slap on the face, not hard enough to hurt, but more than enough to be startling. He frowned, but, nonetheless, took his hand by the wrist and guided it to the crown of his skull. Hesitantly, as if spurred on by some muscle memory, the fingers ran in gentle circles across his bone, and Red hummed in approval at the feeling as he lay against Dust’s legs.

“Where’d you go?”

“Nowhere,” he mumbled, unconsciously leaning into the touch. “Must’ve dozed off.”

“With your eyes open,” Dust said, and it wasn’t a question. “Freak.”

Immediately, Red snorted. “Guess we gotta add that to the list of similarities.”

Despite himself, Dust laughed; the sound short, subdued, and nothing like the laugh he’d fallen in love with, but something about it made his soul flutter, nonetheless. “Guess so.”

After a moment, Red opened his sockets. Each time he saw him was like the first, and Red drank in each of his features as if they’d disappear at any moment – as they had before – smooth bone that crackled and buzzed with magic, refusing to be underestimated; eyelights that glowed brightly in dark sockets, like how he imagined neon signs would on a city street in the middle of the night; a face shrouded by shadow, as if it was saved for him alone to see. In the end, he’d been marred by cruelty despite Red’s best efforts, but he was beautiful nonetheless.

“‘Sup,” Dust mumbled, and the edges of his mouth quirked up in an attempt at a smile.

Slowly, Red lifted his hand and, ever so gently, cupped Dust’s cheek, pausing when his breath hitched, but, with the same caution, Dust leaned into the touch; barely enough to be noticed, but Red noticed. This time, he saw. “‘Sup,” he finally returned. “You okay?”

“You’re going to disappear,” Dust whispered, and his voice broke on the words in a way that made Red feel hollowed out. “You’re going to go somewhere else. Somewhere that I can’t reach. Like you do when you go to space. It scares me.”

Browbones furrowed, Red ran gentle circles across his love’s cheek, staying silent as Dust took in a shuddering breath to continue; a quirk Red had grown accustomed to.

“I remember what you told me before,” he said, and his hand came up to desperately hold Red’s to his face, like he might forget it was there if he didn’t make sure. “That you did it because it was better to be somewhere else – anywhere else. Do you want that now? To be somewhere else? Away from me?”

“No,” Red said, and the lack of hesitation in his answer surprised even himself. “I don’t want that.”

Again, Dust’s breath hitched, and he frowned, like the answer wasn’t enough, and, maybe, it wasn’t. His fingers threaded between Red’s, and, when he clutched onto his hand, Red squeezed back, holding him with desperation to match. Dust laughed, a breathless sound. “I’m not the person that you loved.”

Scoffing, Red rolled his eyelights at the notion. “Of course you are.”

“I’m not,” Dust insisted, and something about it was a plea.

“Then,” he breathed, “I love you. This you.”

And, with a breath that was cut off with something that sounded suspiciously like a sob, Dust leaned forward – over Red’s body, as if to trap him – and pressed his chest against Red’s. His ribs fluttered with each breath, and Red guided his stuttering breaths with deep inhales that interlocked their ribs with each one. His hand remained stuck to Dust’s cheek, and he squeezed gently, relieved when Dust squeezed back to let him know he was still here; in this reality, not another.

“Breathe,” Red commanded, soft; soft, like he’d been taught. “I’m here.”

Dust took a heaving breath – deep, frantic, like he’d been drowning – and, in a voice that sounded so much like before – reminding Red once more that this was the person he loved, despite the change – he whispered, “Where would you wanna go? If you could go anywhere. Anywhere at all.”

The question made him sputter, for a moment. Then, with a breathless laugh, “Seriously?”

“Please,” he pleaded, so what could Red do but answer?

The answer would have been easy before – here; here, just like before – but, despite how they fought against it, things had changed. Did that mean his answer had to change? That his longing had to shift, too? The multiverse was infinite. If he could conceive of a place, it surely existed, somewhere. Maybe even somewhere that Sans stayed Sans, but would it be the same? Any place. Anywhere. Anywhere at all. But, if kindness was so thoroughly hidden – had been ripped from Dust’s grasp with the signature ruthlessness of the multiverse – then why shouldn’t Red be it? Like Dust had been for him, before.

“Think I’d like to stay here,” he hummed. “With you. Still.”

And, this time, Red noticed the way that Dust’s breathing slowed to a stop; felt the way that his magic crackled between his joints; how something wet slipped between their fingers on Dust’s cheek; knew what it meant.

“Okay,” Dust whispered.

“What about you? Where would you go?”

There was a pause – a moment as Dust inhaled once more; held Red’s hand tight, but oh, so gentle – before he managed to answer. “Here,” he said. “With you.”

[goose-smoothie]

Some of my favourite autistic-coded characters.

Representation is important, but sometimes labels are frustrating cause it reduces us to a set of characteristics instead of a person who also happens to be ASD. And often, people who are written to be autistic are nothing but supports and stereotypes. So here are a list of some of my fav ASD-coded characters, because autism is a spectrum :)

Cassandra Pentaghast - Dragon Age 2, Dragon Age: Inquisition

The slightly mean tutorial lady with a heart of gold. No time for fools. Her most famous quote is *disgusted noise*. She's a sucker for romance books, although she won't tell anyone. Can smite you with a look. Seems cold but is an absolute sweetheart. Cares about the truth and order, and has a strong moral compass that often trumps her black and white thinking. Strange accent which is unique to her. Has made her special interest her job. Hates liars. Is very blunt.

T'Lyn - Star Trek: Lower Decks

One could argue that all Vulcans are on the spectrum, but she is somehow the Vulcan's version of autistic. Is overly emotional (for a Vulcan). Has special interests and fixates on certain things. Does not adhere to social expectations and rules. When her friends are distressed she tries to do activities with them which they love, unsure how to discuss emotional needs. She has Bendii syndrome which makes it hard for her to control her emotional output (telepath shenanigans). "Water, room tempreture."

Spock - Star Trek

Is a fucking sassy bitch and often states 'facts' that offends the people around him. Just wants to be left alone to do his own thing. Father has Bendii syndrome (see above). Is too human for Vulcans and too Vulcan for humans. Had/has learning disabilities, most prominent when he was a child. Usually placid, until he gets angry and then not even God could save you. Will get sidetracked at inappropriate times. "Captain, I wish to take a sample of this fascinating specimen." "Spock, there's no time people are dying right now."

Shadowheart - Baldur's Gate 3

She's got the T-Rex hands and manages to make the thing I am most self-conscious of look graceful. Very devoted, all-or-nothing type person. Wardrobe is only black and purple. Breathes metaphors. Seems cold and pragmatic, but is a big softie underneath. Quick wit. "You mean I'd get to prove you wrong and thrash you?" Takes a while to open up and trust. Snark as a first language. Gets frustrated easily and needs to be perfect at everything first try. Identity crisis. Her idea of practical jokes are more awkward and endearing than funny. Special interests, which includes one particular flower that blooms once and dies(also black and purple), and religion.

Sylvia Tilly - Star Trek: Discovery

I fucking love this woman so goddamn much. She is relateable, stupidly competent, ambitious, and hilarious. Will talk for hours and can be inappropriately excitable and brutally honest but in a well-meaning way. Invites a guy back to her room to discuss potentially stranding cadets on a moon for a training exercise, not realising that he's staring at her with heart eyes, before kicking him out. "I love feeling feelings." Makes friends with the mutineer. Looks like she counts the seconds of eye-contact before looking away, to make sure it's right. She's got stims and mannerisms. Honestly, she is one of the best portrayals of autism I've seen so far in media (second only to Dr Brennan from Bones).

Tori - Heartstopper

Her face betrays nothing. Deadpan. Emotional support straw. Wardrobe is streamlined into three different colours, all dark. Will kill for her brother. Uses logic like a weapon. "Don't touch me." Doesn't respect social hierarchy. Looks way older than she is, but simultaneously ageless. Unnerving stare. Social life who? ASEXUAL QUEEN.

Leliana - Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Inquisition

Andraste's original fan-girl. Special interests include, religion and murder. Duty bound. Dry sense of humour but also very sweet. Looks scary but she's not, unless you piss her off. Moral compass? Sometimes. Cutesy codenames. Gets frustrated when people question her and the way she views the world. Has no less that seven knives on her person at all times. Loves shoes. Sings a little song in camp to express her feelings. Fucking loves those little nugs (hairless rabbits with hands for feet). "Hey, do you want me to extort or murder this guy for you? It will solve the problem."

Beauregard "Beau" Lionett - Mighty Nein (Critical Role)

So much negative rizz that it swings back around. Hates being put into a box. Takes detailed notes. If the phrase 'walk it off' were a person. Inappropriate jokes at inappropriate times. Has a big bag of ball bearings. Problems with authority. Gendernorms who? The most awkward person around although she thinks she's the most normal. With visible confusion, "What?" (I also suspect Marisha may be on the spectrum.)

Zuko - Avatar: The Last Airbender

Thinks he's going to die without his father's approval. Doesn't seem to get emotion, although he feels very deeply. Black and white thinking about the world (which he then learns to sort through). Has a strong sense of justice, except when it comes to himself. "That's rough, buddy." Frustration and anger issues and immense empathy. Practices what he's going to say before speaking but still messes it up. Jokes go over his head. Azula is also defs on the spectrum.

Honourable Mentions Dr Temperance "Bones" Brennan - Bones Jasnah Kholin - The Stormlight Archive Keyleth - The Legend of Vox Machina (Critical Role) Dulcie Collins - Deadloch Mr Darcy - Pride and Prejudice

[let-roman-bite-someone]

i know i've said this before but i'm so tired of people acting like Patton is the general embodiment of morality. as if he is the personification of the legal justice system and everything he does must be good and fair™.

folks, Patton is Thomas's morality. remember what Virgil said in the Q&A episode?

this applies to all of the sides. every single one of them.

Remus wouldn't be the same for everyone, different people have different types of intrusive thoughts. Logan wouldn't be the same for everyone, different people have had different levels of education, different forms of intelligence and different applications of logic.

but the funny thing is, i never see people criticize the other sides for being too representative of their title. they don't reprimand Virgil for making Thomas anxious because that's his job. they don't bash Roman for being a perfectionist. but for some reason, people expect Patton to be a saint who does no wrong.

it's emphasized so clearly in multiple episodes that the sides are the result of Thomas's upbringing specifically. Patton is simply the moral code that Thomas's parents and on a larger scale, society, had taught him.

“Patton was so accepting of Virgil but he couldn't accept Remus or Janus!”

yeah. because it's easier to deal with anxiety than it is to deal with intrusive thoughts. don't get me wrong, anxiety is definitely a serious issue. but Thomas's anxiety never went directly against his morals, if anything, Virgil's perspective aligned very much with Patton's. being anxious about say embarrassing yourself in public or not getting your work done in time is not as morally concerning as having thoughts about murdering your brother.

but Thomas, like many of us, grew up with no one to tell him what intrusive thoughts are or how to deal with them. when Patton was chastising Thomas for having these thoughts, that's just Thomas beating himself up over something he can't control.

the same goes for Janus. Patton had a hard time accepting Janus because Thomas had learned to always be selfless since when he was younger, and Janus was challenging that point of view. when Patton was pushing Thomas to be selfless, that's just Thomas pushing himself and feeling guilty at the thought of focusing on his own needs.

i feel like people think that Patton is actually Thomas's father figure or something. i understand if he reminds you of someone toxic in your life and it can be uncomfortable to watch. but while it's good to relate to the media you are consuming, it's also important to view things in context.

Patton is not a person, he's not an individual who has the freewill to do what he wants. he is only Thomas's morality and what his morals are heavily depends on what Thomas was taught and how he was raised.

Patton cannot control the morals that Thomas had learned. he can only try to implement them in Thomas's life and unless Thomas himself decides to unlearn some of the unhealthy ideals that he has internalized, Patton cannot go against his nature. he can only do what he has been programmed to do, with the knowledge that he has.

[pawberri]

thank you for all the posts you've made, your takes are always so refreshing to hear.

I want to know your thoughts (if it's okay with you, you can also totally ignore this) about all the "men hate" I see online. like I (poc transmasc non-passing) get it, there are genuine societal gender problems. transmisogyny does exist-women face more challenges than men do. but it genuinely hurts when women, especially trans women, think it's funny/quirky to call men trash or say they want all men dead or whatever. idk I just am hoping someone else understands, you know?

There's a lot of nuances to this question. First, I just want to caution against focusing too much on trans girls as the perpetrators of this. A lot of the asks I get from trans men seem to really fixate on trans women as the perpetrators of hard line gender essentialism. I really think trans girls are not the main people we should be focusing on here. If a trans woman is saying this stuff, take the time to analyze her ideology outside of that pithy comment and consider how much trauma and how little power she has in the world. That said, trans women are affected by this kind of ideology just like us, and they rarely have the power to wield it against others in the way cis people can. I know it hurts to feel isolated by your own community, but that kinda gets into my second point.

Part of dealing with this is learning an impulse progressive cishet dude have had to get used to over the decade. Sometimes, "men are trash" or even "kill all men" are not literal phrases. They are things women say when they're in the throes of trauma to vent their frustration. "Men are trash" in particular is generally pretty lighthearted and used to complain when you have a bad date or something. You have to get used to analyzing what someone actually means and airing on the side of empathy. You, as a man, are the one with some amount of systemic power over that woman, so you are the one who needs to prove you are dedicated to not being a misogynist. The same thing happens when my friends say they hate white people. I have to assume they don't hate me given that I'm their friend, but that I still have some of the negative traits of whiteness. I need to care enough to be a good friend by being anti-racist and checking myself on my behavior. I need to be willing to prioritize their comfort over mine. That includes not becoming this meme:

Now that that's established, there ARE times when "all men are evil and should die" is an actual ideology. It's an ideology that hurts tons of minority groups before it hurts the most powerful, but it's also not really great if we assume it only hurts cishet white guys. Following it to its logical conclusion, it just proposes a reversal of oppression dynamics. This gender essentialism is a key part of radical feminism, trans exclusionary or not, but it leaks out of that community to general feminism all the time.

As a young person on Tumblr and Twitter, this deeply affected me. I internalized the idea that you can "just be a girl." It was repeated by some trans girls, but also a LOT of TME people. It was framed as trans inclusive, but it's trans inclusive in the way "political lesbianism" is lesbian positive. It posits gender as a moral choice that is completely up to the individual and unrelated to biology. It's the lazy version of "gender is a social construct." I felt sick and disgusting for wanting to be a boy because tons of well-meaning friends of mine had made it clear that "being a boy" was a choice, and it was the wrong one. "Boy" was a social category that could and should eventually be eradicated. Trans women were conditionally supported because they, in theory, made this future possible. This didn't amount to actual support, of course. It was an ideology mostly spread by afab queer people that mostly benefited afab queer people. There were a few trans girls who spread it, maybe some due to genuinely believing in the ideology and some due to social pressure, but there were also a lot of people straight-up grifting as trans girls who used this thinking to feel powerful in a niche community of teens. Remember fucking Yandere Bitch Club???

At a certain point, I genuinely thought of being a man as an unambiguous moral failing, and I lashed out at out trans men because of it. I wanted to feel powerful, and here was a type of man in my community I could shame and exclude. I still feel bad for making a bunch of ~girls only~ stuff in HS that excluded the one out trans dude at our school, my friend, because he was just a ~binary man~ and leaving him with no friends and no community. I treated transphobia like it wasn't a real oppression on its own and, in doing so, perpetuated transphobia. It happens a lot.

I wasn't really able to accept that there was nuance to the concept of manhood until I read this article while struggling to accept my own gender:

This is a pretty seminal piece of writing. It has its flaws, of course, but the empathy and intersectionality it highlights was life-changing. It also shows that this kind of thinking is largely perpetuated by TME people and hurts trans women greatly.

Gender essentialism is a bad ideology, it's a transphobic, transmisogynist, racist, etc etc ideology. It's literally essential to patriarchy. But it's also very easy to repackage into leftism and easy to dogwhistle. As a result, it's natural to be hesitant when you see someone saying they hate all men, but you have to tread extremely lightly and actually care what they're attempting to express. Because, yeah, men as a social class still hold power over women. They still have reason to fear and hate men.

I'm writing a comic about this stuff, actually, so look out for it in the future..........

[lostgirlmuseum]

Stuck (2)gether

(image from Pinterest ^) Summary: A continuation of Stuck Together, Bucky deals with the aftermath of now knowing what it’s like to be so close to you. He misses it. He’s scared of it. He needs it.

Words: 2.7k

Warning: None I don’t think, just some fluff and an awkward Bucky. Oh and implied wet socks (DON'T WORRY, NOT EXPLICIT)

A/N: Yes I think im very funny with the title lol

Previously…

You wonder what you did to make him so revolted by you.

Little do you know, at that very moment, Bucky is resisting every urge to run back to you.

Bucky woke up the next morning feeling lost. Like there was something missing. Before his groggy brain could put it together, he saw his phone light up with a reminder that he was meeting Sam to go on a jog. He quickly got up and got dressed, trying to ignore that weird nagging feeling that a piece of him was gone.

Seeing as he lives on the fourth floor of the tower, he could’ve very easily taken the stairs to level one. It’s not like he got winded often. But something compelled him to take the elevator.

Right as the odd feeling had started to dissipate, the elevator doors opened. And there you were.

It all came crashing back to him. 

Fu-

“Oh, hey Buck.” You smiled.

“Hi.” He briefly considered not getting on. He could take the stairs. But there you stood, and he felt the urge to stand right next to you.

“What floor?” You asked.

He looked at the buttons. He saw “12” glow a faint yellow.

“Twelve.” 

“Oh, me too.” 

“Yes.”

Yes? What does that even mean? Just be cool Barnes. Be cool—

Your sweet voice interrupted his internal panic.

“Nice. With how hot it’s been lately, I figured I should take advantage of the pool.”

He finally noticed the towel you were carrying.

“Yeah, same.” He crossed his arms.

“You’re heading to the pool too?” 

“Yeah.”

“What are the chances?” You politely laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you go swimming.”

“I swim.” 

Despite his horrible conversational skills, he doesn’t want this elevator ride to end.

“I don’t doubt it.” 

There came an awkward lull in the conversation. He felt guilty for not only lying about where he was headed, but even more so for his lack of interesting responses. The least he could do was be engaging.

Either you gave up on him, or you lost interest, because neither of you said another word as you exited the elevator, and walked down the hall into the pool room.

He stood and watched as you grabbed a chair and draped your towel over it. You two were the only ones there. He continued to watch as you took off your t-shirt and stepped out of your shorts, revealing a navy bathing suit underneath. You stacked your clothes neatly on the chair, and pulled your hair back. You ambled up to the edge of the pool and dipped your toe in. Then you turned around and saw him staring right back at you, unmoving.

“Where’s your swimsuit?” You tilted your head.

“Um.” He looked at you blankly for a solid three seconds. He realized there was a significant hitch in his plan. Could he make an excuse and just leave? Yes. Was he going to? No. Because all logic went out the window the minute the elevator doors opened and he saw you. He’s acting on the instinct to be near you, and not leave your side, no matter what. “I didn’t bring it.”

“Oh, I know what you’re doing.” You laughed.

Oh jeez. You’ve caught him. He’s mortified. He can’t even explain the feelings coursing through his veins, and yet you’ve already figured him out.

“Swimming fully clothed, yeah? I’ve heard it’s a good skill to learn, never know when you might be in a situation where you unexpectedly find yourself in a body of water, especially in our line of work.”

He nodded. 

You turned back to the water and took a step up on the diving block. You got in position and dove into the water, leaving Bucky with his jaw dropped at how you just found his excuse for him.

“You coming in, or what?” You called, wading in the pool.

“I’m here, sorry,” Bucky started his apologies to Sam the minute he found him waiting on a bench in the lobby.

“Man, where were you? I thought we were meeting for a run. And why the hell are you dripping?” 

“Sorry, I got held up.”

“Doing what? Did you forget to take your clothes off in the shower?”

“No.”

“Okay…” Sam looked Bucky up and down, taking in the way his shirt clung to his chest, the messy damp hair, and the literal puddle he stood in. “Buck, I’m waiting for an explanation on why you’re drenched.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Weird dude. You’re being weird. I mean, you’re always weird, but especially right now.”

“Are we running, or not?” He groaned.

“With those squeaky ass shoes? I’m thinking not.”

Around lunch time, Bucky had found you alone in the kitchen, making a sandwich. Your hair was still a bit damp from the pool earlier, but so was his. 

“Oh!” You jumped, “You snuck up on me!”

“Sorry,” he blushed. 

Next thing he knew, he was standing right beside you, behind the kitchen island. 

You seemed just as surprised at his proximity, he usually stayed a fair distance away from everyone. Minus Steve, maybe.

He mumbled something, searching your face.

“What?” You asked.

“Um, what are you making?”

“Just a sandwich.”

“What kind of sandwich?”

“I don’t know, I kinda grabbed whatever I could find from the fridge.”

He felt himself smile.

“What?” You laughed, noticing his weird reaction.

“You’ve got—” he paused, hesitating to bring his hand up, “here, I got it.” 

He brought his thumb to your left cheekbone, carefully wiping away a smudge of mustard you had managed.

“Oh,” you giggled. But he didn’t take his hand away. He just let it lightly hover, looking wistfully from his hand by your cheek to your glittering eyes.

“Is that sandwich for me?” Tony’s voice penetrated the bubble Bucky had found himself in. 

Immediately, Bucky brought his arms to his sides and stepped away from you, backing up a ridiculous five feet.

He saw a glimpse of hurt and confusion on your face, but it quickly dissipated into a teasing smile.

“Sorry Iron Man, but this sandwich is mine.” You crossed your arms.

“Well, this kitchen is mine. My kitchen, my rules, yeah?”

“Alright, just take the sandwich.”

“Is that yellow or Dijon mustard I see on it?”

“Yellow.”

“Damn. I prefer Dijon.” Tony quipped back.

Bucky did what he did best, standing and watching from afar.

Tony glanced over at him and back at you. The man leaned over the counter.

“Come here.” He gestured for you to lean in.

You gave him a suspicious look but stepped closer, leaning over the island.

Tony brought his hand up to where Bucky had just had his, and swiped.

“Weird, I thought I saw a smudge of something.” Tony teased, looking back over at Bucky.

Bucky felt his cheeks flush. Damn Stark, and having to ruin everything. Bucky didn’t care how you responded, he suddenly felt the urge to get the hell out. 

“Buck–” he heard you start to call, but he was already half-way out the door.

Bucky was laying face down on his bed when he heard the knock at his door.

“Who is it?” He grumbled.

There was no response.

“Hello?”

Begrudgingly, he rolled out of bed and opened the door. No one was there. He looked down and finally noticed the note at his feet. He glanced down the empty hallway before picking up the small paper and going back into his room.

“Meet me in my room in 5 minutes. Go ahead in, I’ll be there soon.

                        From, Y/N”

His heart started to race. 

You were inviting him into your room? Your space. God, this has got to be a dream. Finally, he can be close to you and not worry about anyone interrupting. His head was so clouded with the anticipation of you that he didn’t even think to wonder what you wanted to meet him for. Or why you felt the need to put it in a note.

You said to meet in five minutes, but he couldn’t help himself. He left immediately for your room and was three minutes early. He tugged at his hair for a minute, and rocked on his heels. He couldn’t take it. What’s two minutes?

He knocked on your door and it creaked open. 

He let himself in, like you asked, and nearly sat on the edge of your bed, but thought it too intimate, opting for your cozy chair in the corner. It smelled like you. 

Soon after, he heard steps coming down the hall and closer to your door.

He tried to keep his body still, but he wanted to meet you halfway. He’d never felt so impatient.

The door slowly started to open…

Bucky blanched. 

“Peter?” 

“I’m really sorry about this Sergeant Barnes.” The kid gave him apologetic eyes.

“Sorry about w—” Bucky didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, Peter shot two webs, both landing perfectly in place where Bucky’s arms rested on the chair.

“Mr. Starks orders.” Peter burst out, right before making his quick exit out the door.

Before Bucky could even start to badger the kid, two faces appeared in the doorway.

“Stark! What the fuck is going on?!” Bucky yelled, and turned his attention to the other body. “Wilson, I swear to fucking god—”

“Cool it Tin Man, this is for your own good,” Tony started, “this way you have to confront your feelings for Y/N.”

“I don’t have feelings for—” Bucky started to bark back, but Sam interrupted from the doorway.

“Don’t lie, Buck, I talked to Y/N earlier. You were late because you went swimming, fully clothed, just to be near her. That’s crazy!”

“Psychotic, really,” Tony added. 

“Desperate, is what it is.” Sam pointed. “Sorry to do this to you, really, but it’s for your own good. And hers too.”

The men started to close the door, and Bucky seethed, “Don’t you dare, I will kill you both!”

He was seeing red.

Stark's muffled remark came behind the door.

“Good luck, we’re rooting for you!”

“STARRRRKK—”

He tried thrashing, but it was useless. He was feeling murderous. The chair bumped onto the ground as he repeatedly attempted to stand up and free his wrists from their confines.

But his anger swiftly turned to panic the second he sensed footsteps and heard your light humming nearing the door.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispered, willing the web to dissolve.

But it was too late. You opened the door, and spotted him immediately.

“Wha—Bucky?”

“Hey, hi, yeah,”

“Are you alright?” You asked, looking around the room for any other unusual signs. “What are you doing here? Is that Peter’s web?”

“You see, I can explain,” he started, already breathless.

“Okay…” 

“Um, I got a note from you saying to meet you in your room, and so that’s why I’m here. Obviously, you didn’t write it, but I didn’t know that at the time so I let myself in, but then Parker popped out of nowhere, webbed me to the chair, and then Stark and Sam appeared and said stuff and essentially this is all an elaborate prank on behalf of them.”

You just looked at him.

“You’re looking at me like I’m crazy, I get it, it sounds unbelievable, but I swear to god that is what happened.”

“Relax, Bucky, I believe you. I just don’t get the joke.” You crossed your arms, lost in thought.

“They’re twisted, who knows what they are ever thinking.”

“I just don’t understand why they’d do this.”

“I don’t know, they wanted us to talk, it’s stupid.” He rolled his eyes.

“Talk? About what?”

Bucky didn’t answer. But he didn’t have to. A look of realization and a twinge of shame crossed your face.

“Oh, is this about the other day? Bucky, I’m really sorry. I was just trying to help you get the web off, I didn’t know I’d get stuck to you. I’m really, really, sorry, I never would have done it if I’d known. I know you value your space, and I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I apologize.”

Bucky started to sputter, not even sure how to correct how wrong you were.

“Oh my gosh! And now you’re trapped in my room, it’s happening again. I’m sorry, you probably want to be as far away as possible from me right now. I’ll go find the web dissolver, I’ll give you space,”

“No, I don’t want space.” He blurted. Well, no going back now. “I want to be…close to you.” He whispered, ducking his head in humiliation.

You simply shook your head, not understanding.

“I’m sorry, it’s embarrassing. Ever since we got stuck together, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about being close to you. I don’t know what’s happened to me, maybe it’s just that I haven’t been so close to another person in so long, or something else is wrong with me. I see you and I’m itching to be closer. It’s like when the web dissolved a magnet took its place. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Why do you assume I don’t feel the same way?”

“You—” Bucky blinked, “you what?”

“Maybe I like being close to you too? Maybe I’m embarrassed because you started to run away from me?”

“Fuck, I know, I’m sorry, it’s just a new feeling for me and I don’t completely understand it, and I don’t want Stark making me feel like a fool.” He hung his head. “Which he’s doing a really good job of right now.”

“Forget Stark, he can be a raging asshole.” You spotted the way he was struggling against the restraints. “Let me make a quick call, and then we can continue this conversation.”

You quickly picked up your phone, tapped around, and held the phone to your ear. It rung three times before someone answered.

“Peter?… No, I’m not angry…Yes, I am disappointed...Just bring the web solution…No, he won’t kill you…Yes, I promise…Okay, hurry.”

You hung up and turned your attention back to Bucky.

“So, you like me?”

He felt his cheeks warm. 

“I mean… yeah. Is that okay?”

“Of course it’s okay, Bucky.” You smiled.

A minute or two later Peter knocked on the door, and peeked his head in with the formula.

“Please don’t be disappointed in me. I was just listening to Mr. Stark.” He begged you, his eyes wide looking into yours.

“Fine, I’m not disappointed.” You relented, always merciful. “But let this be a lesson in establishing boundaries. And I think I need to have a chat with Tony about taking advantage of you.”

“Thank you, thank you.” He sighed, handing you the bottle and rag.

“But, I think you owe someone else an apology.”

Peter looked Bucky in the eyes for the first time since the door opened. 

“I’m really sorry Sergeant Barnes. That wasn’t cool of me. It won’t happen again.”

“Whatever, just get outta here, kid.” He gave a small wave of his hand, which looked a bit awkward considering his forearms were still glued down.

That was pretty much as close as Bucky could get to accepting an apology.

Peter scurried off and you got to work on freeing Bucky.

Bucky was snuggled against you on the couch. He squeezed you tight, his big arms wrapped around your body. He had his head resting on your chest, and you were rubbing small circles on his back.

You had both been there for nearly an hour, unmoving from your spot.

Bucky heard you mumble a stern, “Behave,” to Tony when he walked in. Knowing he was defeated, he put his arms up in protest and walked on by without a single quip. Truly a feat for Iron Man.

He couldn’t be happier, being so close to your warmth.

Bucky didn’t know a lot of things. Like why he wasn’t dead yet, how Tony Stark could be such a pain, and what the hell is flan? But he did know one thing. That being close to you was the most perfect thing. It just feels right. You feel right. And he’s elated to know that there are a million more cuddles to come.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I hope this lived up to the first part, or at least was somewhat close? I hope you have a wonderful day, and let me know what you think!