#I missed ace week

[nolanfa]

[image description: Natasha Romanoff braiding Bucky Barnes’ hair. She’s sitting on a couch with an ace flag shirt, and Bucky is sitting on the ground, leaning against her legs and looking up at her, smiling.] fill for @buckybarnesbingo‘s prompt: “asexuality“. fill for @lgbtqbingo‘s prompt: “flags“ (because Nat’s shirt is flag-coloured/-patterned) fill for @anyfandomgoesbingo‘s prompt “Natasha Romanoff“ (Title: Ace Nat, Pairing: Natasha & Bucky Rating: SFW Medium: digital art + 444 words)

(on AO3 here)

- Nat is ace - she and Bucky find braiding each other’s hair calming, due to Red Room shared experiences.

More words under the cut

- the best way to gather information and get close to high-profile targets is not as a high-society lady but as a high-society lady's helper. The girls in the Black Widow program were taught to kill, to dance, and to help. So they learned to clean efficiently, to choose clothes for any occasion, and they did each other's hair. As this was an activity where the result counted more than the process, it was not as tightly supervised as others. It was also one of the rare violence-free collaborative activities. So for the girls, and for Bucky who trained them and spent some time with them in-between missions and training (because freezing and unfreezing him took time so they didn't do it for too short a downtime), it meant safety and comfort, and still does now. So, sometimes, when she's feeling quiet and safe and content, and she wants to spread the quiet and the safe and the content around, Nat braids Bucky's hair, and sometimes he braids hers. - Bucky also braided his sisters' hair. Before the war, and hydra, and everything, back when the world was not just jagged edges.

- When Nat told Clint she was ace, he was overjoyed, because *purple* (also because he’s, like, supportive and shit and loves her, but he said it was because of the purple). When she needs small purple things, because she wants to wear her colours, and she already has black, gray and white in her things, he always has something to lend her (never on a mission. Ace colors are for downtime. Personal trivia is only ever shown when safe, or as a last resort in very controlled situations to get a very specific result). She could get her own, sure, but he likes accumulating purple wristbands and hairties and caps for her, and she likes using his things (it still feels so new and so precious, gifts given or services rendered, with no strings attached, freely given and freely accepted). The Ace shirt is a gift Clint gave her. She was actually surprised to learn other sex-indifferent people existed, outside of the Red Room. She had thought it was kinda like knowing how to lie: something she'd learnt. She's still unsure, sometimes, what is everybody's, what is hers, and what is the Red Room's. She knows all the children's lullabies and fairy tales, learnt to dance a hundred different dances, but never quite knows if what she feels is normal, or too much, or not enough, or just a few feet to the left.

[sceebybeeby]

quick athena doodle for lesbian week

the function

[aexvii]

tea, sweets, and halcyon days 💕

[blackfire5561]

Haven’t drawn Ace Attorney stuff in so long, but I got nostalgic with the Investigations port announcement and doodled this a little earlier last month

[dynamic-power]

Happy ace visibility week! 🖤🩶🤍💜

Please check on all your aspec friends and make sure they are still visible to the human eye. Doing so at least once a week ensures optimal happiness, but doing it this week in particular grants the aspec person extra feelings of Appreciation and Validity!

[the-meme-monarch]

happy ace week i’ve never been wrong in my life

edit: other one I did for aro day :]

if you ship scc go away 👍

[bethanyactually]

Nancy Drew + text posts (40/?)

4.08 || The Crooked Banister (4/5)

thanks, @runaway-horses, for the assist with Iain Thomas! ♥︎

[thou-babbling-brook]

SPOILERS FOR AC MIRAGE UNDER THE CUT!

“Where you go, there I will go. Where you rest, there I will rest. I will walk behind you every step of the way. You are never alone.”

AC Mirage’s ending has me fucked up

[taiturner]

lgbtq meme ◆ (2/5) headcanon lgbtq+ characters ━ ASEXUAL THEA MAYS

[bayonetta-origins]

twitter liked them so ill share here too^_^ my aurametis hcs.....

[lionblaze03-2]

mousefur and longtail are both asexual aromantic in some sort of qpr relationship with one another. Do you get it do you see my vision

[jtownraindancer]

"Can I get on with my job please?"

"I thought you did this for fun!"

Burn Gorman as Doug in Stan Lee's Lucky Man, 2016.

[nicomoru]

Happy ace awareness week!! This year I offer- let’s look through the files aaaannnd….. it’s another Jessica and Roger Rabbit! Whooo! Be aware!

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Since its the ace week, how abt an asexual villain?

The sunset was more beautiful than the villain would’ve expected. And even more surprising, saving the world was actually better than trying to destroy it. They’d always thought destruction was the only way to bring order into this world. But the hero — chaotic on their own — had shown them that there was no order.

It was simply the world’s nature to be chaotic. Though the villain needed a lot of time to accept that, they could see themselves getting used to that in the future.

“I like you,” they whispered. And then, they looked at the hero, dried blood on their temple, bruises around their eye, sweaty and utterly exhausted. It was probably the worst timing ever.

But despite of what the villain expected, the hero smiled as they continued to stare at the sun going down.

“I like you too,” they said quietly. And it hurt. It hurt the villain.

There was nothing in the world they wanted more than to be loved. Destroying the world and creating a new one would’ve made them be loved. Everything would be perfect, they just knew it.

It was just not the kind of love everyone understood. If the hero liked them, loved them even, they would never be satisfied. Some things just were more complicated than others.

“What do you mean?” The villain felt stupid for thinking someone could actually understand. The hero was a wonderful person. While the villain had always been a bit more quiet and a strategist, the hero was outgoing and fun. They were confident and messy. They fucked up and took accountability. They fixed things.

“Hm?”

“I like you is versatile.” The hero looked at them.

“Oh,” they said. Even though both of them had agreed to go to a hospital immediately after the fight, none of them were actually getting up or making a call. It felt like there was no urgency. Not really. They’d saved the world. “I suppose you’re right.”

There was a moment. A moment in which they didn’t say anything. It felt like hours.

“I love you,” the hero said. They smiled softly. “I’ve loved you for a very long time.”

The villain wanted to cry. It was deadening to hear. It was everything they wanted and yet, they knew that this was going to end in heartbreak. Despite the hero’s kindness, they would want an actual relationship. This would never be normal and it would never be satisfactory to them.

“Hey, did I say something wrong?” the hero asked extremely meticulous.

“No, I’m sorry, I just—” And then the villain panicked. “I could change for you, you know? We could do all the kissing and the touching and the other things if you want to.”

Sometimes, the villain was disgusted at themselves. It felt wrong to be like this. It felt wrong not to want those things everyone seemed to want.

“What are you talking about…?”

The villain felt their throat tighten. They considered throwing up.

“I like you too. I mean, I love you, but—” They started crying. “I’m asexual.”

For a moment, the hero looked terribly confused. And then they looked angry.

“Did you just say you’d change for me? You seriously consider doing things you don’t like to please me?” The hero took a step forward and brushed the villain’s hair out of their face. With gentle touches, they even wiped the tears away. “Do not say that ever again. Do not even think about it.”

“But I thought—”

“I want to be with you,” the hero said. “No matter how. Platonic, romantic, sexual…it doesn’t matter. Please, do not ever change. I just want to be with you. With that true version of you. Tell me what it is, tell me how you want me and I promise we will make it work. We will make it work forever.”

The villain started crying again.

[reviewdiaries]

Ace and the paradox of finding peace in 4x09

Ace is very isolated this week, and it allows for some quiet introspection - the possibility of getting into his own special kind of trouble. And isn’t that something Ace has always been spectacularly good at? Whilst I’d love to see more episodes like the last two with entire Drew Crew shenanigans and hijinks, I’m also really loving the separate threads that each of the characters are following. The writers have a beautiful ability to weave seemingly disparate threads of stories together into one cohesive whole that makes the season even more satisfying by the end.

So he’s thrown himself into work, because that’s what he does when the snarls of feeling become too much. And yes, the last we saw he and Nancy were very much more on the same page, starting to feel their way through to an understanding, a want, a please I want to be with you more than anything, I don’t care what anyone else says. But that doesn’t magically fix everything. Doesn’t iron out the creases in his mind where the fears have taken root. That he’s not enough, not worth it, that Nancy will die and he’ll be left with nothing but a fistful of memories and a crippling guilt that it was all his fault.

But it’s still there. In the distraction as he picks up the clipboard and nearly shatters Connor’s mug. In the distant half aware way that he greets the latest addition to the morgue. His mind is half on his job and half on Nancy and the way his heart is tied to hers, a tug beneath his ribs whenever he thinks of her.

And then he is offered a distraction. A beautiful shining puzzle all his own. And he can’t resist, he’s never been able to resist, that’s part of why he and Nancy work so well together, so attuned to the frequency of mysteries to untangle, problems to solve, locks to pick. He’s used to the supernatural - the idea of the morgue being haunted barely rating in his top ten creepy situations he’s found himself in. So of course the latest body has brought in its ghost, and of course they’re trying to communicate with him. And he’s part running through all of the things he remembers from Tiffany haunting George, from Odette, the tips and tricks to try and draw them out, help them move on. Part engrossed in the who and the why and the what of it all. Metaphorically putting his fingers in his ears over all of his own feelings and problems and focussing entirely on this.

By the time he makes full contact, Ace has had time to think about this, to puzzle out the problem of his supernatural visitor. I don’t think you’re here to hurt me - famous last words Ace, but he’s also not wrong on his assumptions so far. The entity could have hurt him when they first announced themselves. He drops to the floor expecting an attack, for something to fall, to electrocute him, for danger of some kind. But nothing comes. He’s realised they, whoever they are, want his attention. Want his help. 

But it’s the phrasing of the next part that gets me.

Maybe I can help you move on. The slight pause, the stumble over the idea of moving on. And doesn’t everything come back to Nancy at the moment? What they have, how they’re wrapped up around each other, tangled beyond hope, uncertain how to move forward, impossible to move back. Pandora’s box where once they admitted how they felt, once they had those first delicious illicit moments - conversations, touches, kisses - they couldn’t ever go back to not knowing. 

Find peace.

He can’t find peace. As elusive as sleep when he thinks about kissing her. And things feel cleaner, lighter, since they spoke. But there’s still a disconnect, still the pain of a dislocated bone when he sees her, so it’s easier to avoid. Easier to stay here in his own space with his own mystery, and not think about the constant beating of what if that thunders in his chest when he thinks of her.

It’s tantalising, the possibility of helping something, someone else to find those things. Like maybe if he can find it for someone else he can see the roadmap for himself. Because it’s all one step forward, two to the side, three steps back. He’s lost and confused and throwing himself into his work at the morgue because it is his. It is separate, isolated, a haven away from the tangles of the rest of his life. And sure, Nancy has a way of finding her way in, even here, she always does, she wouldn’t be her if she didn’t, but on the whole it’s clean lines and antiseptic - impersonal and so far away from the riot of colour and knot of emotions he’s so used to.

So he doesn’t even question. Doesn’t wonder if this might be something bad, something that might hurt him. Just wants to help (doesn’t he always want to help - acts of service, acts of service, acts of service) wants to prove to himself, to the ghost, to Nancy, to the world that he is helpful, he is worthy, he can do this on his own. Wants to shut the feelings away and focus on something else if only for a little while. Plunge his hands into the cold water for the shock of something new, something different, something that takes him out of the loop of his own thoughts.

He’ll tell the others at some point, maybe, he’s not sure at this stage. Too lost in the here and now moment of the puzzle to think about caution, about the need for back up, for different perspectives. To wonder whether maybe he’s being incautious because he hurts, because he’s got a chip on his shoulder the size of the bay, because he’s terrified that Nancy is already moving on and what he meant to her was nothing compared to the size of his feelings for her. It was so much easier to stuff his feelings down and pretend they didn’t exist when he didn’t have the reality of his name whispered out on a gasp from her lips, the feel of her gathered close in his arms, the softness of her hair tangled around his fingers. Now it’s just a relentless barrage of knowing whenever he’s near her and can’t touch her. Worse since their body swap and he became intimately aware of her in ways he still can’t let himself truly think about. Can feel the heat of a blush staining his skin whenever the thoughts slip in. 

So he’ll keep pressing through and ignoring the warnings in his head, and not wonder about the curse in the jar that allows the cursed to talk to the dead. Not wonder about the way he fell when the wave swept over the boat. Not wonder at the way Connor doesn’t seem to notice the weirdness that’s been drifting over the morgue like a dark cloud since this body arrived. Just keep breathing and pressing through against the bruises where his heart ties to Nancy’s, and plunging his hands into cold water until he can hear the voice again. Because maybe if he can solve this, help someone else move on, he’ll work out how he can do it himself.

[vibratingskull]

There is no allosexual/alloromantic explanation for Thrawn

Timothy told me himself :

"He's not straight, nor gay, he's aroace and that's the best thing in his life ! "