#reblog if you want to know what the most popular color is (it's probably blue or purple)

[thatrandomlemononyourcounter1]

I want to make a poll

[true-blue-megamind]

I have a question. I don't know if this has been asked this before. Why does Roxanne fall for Megamind? I'm crazy happy they end up together but I still wonder why? Most people were scared of him until he saved the day. He kidnapped Roxanne all the time. She was super pissed at him for a while there. He's also not human. How does the whole attraction thing even work when you aren't the same species? Because, yeah, Megs is cool af, but an ET with blue skin and a big head probably wasn't the star of many Metro City girl's wet dreams. Maybe after he started the hero gig since people are just like that but not before. But Roxanne kind of flirted with him before he turned good or anything. So I guess she had to see something in him other people didn't. What do you think it was?

MEGAMIND FAN THEORY THURSDAY: Roxanne’s Attraction

Yes, I’m back again with another Megamind Fan Theory Thursday! Special thanks to this week’s anonymous contributor! I appreciate you, whoever you may be! I also want to express my sincere gratitude to all those who read, like, and reblog these posts… Knowing that you share the love for this fandom is the reason why I continue dedicating time, whenever possible, to researching and writing about these theories. This blog wouldn’t exist without you. Thank you!

If, however, you are that one individual who has inexplicably insisted upon reading two years' worth of articles about a film you still haven’t watched… I continue to have faith you’ll one day see the light. Or at least the movie. Hope springs eternal.

In the meantime: SPOILER WARNING!

We’re all human—at least, I assume most people reading this probably are—and that means we’re imperfect. One of the sadly common flaws of our species is a tendency to be rather judgmental, sometimes without just cause, and we certainly see that occurring in the film Megamind. After all, the alien genius was left to be raised in a high-security jail among presumably dangerous inmates simply due to his appearance and was pressured into supervillainy in part because he was different. Given that fact, along with the fear and ostracization many apparently showed him, there is reason to wonder exactly what first attracted Roxanne Ritchi to the blue man. After all, as today’s contributor pointed out, most humans, if asked to describe their perfect match, might not immediately default to “an alien with a large head and a complexion of a popular primary color, as a random nonspecific example.” Yet Roxanne is most certainly attracted to Megamind. Of course, many fan suggest that she must find him handsome—it’s doubtful she’d be in a romantic relationship with him by the end of the film if she thought him ugly—but they also contend that, given her disinterest in Metroman, the attraction must be more than physical. The question is: what qualities made her fall for him rather than an ordinary human or the supposedly perfect former Defender? Can fan theories shed any light? Let’s take a look!

Not Your Average Damsel

Some may be tempted to suggest that this is merely a typical case of the damsel falling for her rescuer. After all, that’s one of the common superhero tropes, isn’t it? Even Megamind himself, while talking to Titan after training, said that saving a lady was the way to her heart. The problem with this is that, in that particular instance, the blue man was completely and undeniably wrong. His love interest’s attraction had little or nothing to do with him whisking her out of Titan’s murderous clutches.

There are three reasons why fan theories rightfully dispute the concept of Megamind and Roxanne sharing a stereotypical hero/damsel romance. Firstly, the movie itself is well known for subverting superhero genre norms, and indeed that seems to have been one of the major themes of the narrative. Given how much effort was put into turning such conventions on their heads, sometimes even lampooning them, it’s extremely doubtful that the film’s creators would have suddenly adopted such stereotypes in this one case.

Secondly, there is Roxanne herself. This character is spunky, independent, and not easily cowed. During Megamind and Titan’s second fight, we see her holding a broken street sign, preparing to join in the fray. That’s a far cry from the expected behavior of a supposedly helpless damsel. Furthermore, despite being rescued by Metroman multiple times—hundreds, in fact, according to the prequel comic The Reign of Megamind—she states outright that they “were never a couple.” That alone clearly dismisses the idea of Roxanne swooning for the blue man simply because he rescues her. If she were the sort to do that, she would have fallen for Metroman as well—especially considering that most of the people around her apparently believed him to be Mr. Perfect.

The third and final reason is one we’ve touched on before. It bears repeating, however, as it truly puts the proverbial nail in the coffin of the Typical Damsel argument. As our contributor mentioned, Roxanne canonically was attracted to Megamind while he was still a supervillain. During the kidnapping scene, when the blue man draws close and practically purrs a vaguely suggestive line—“such… tricks won’t work on me”—in the reporter’s ear, rather than showing reluctance she asks him to “please talk slower.” Megamind, of course, responds by calling her “Temptress.” Tellingly, while she doesn’t acknowledge it, Roxanne also doesn’t object to the epithet. Fan theories suggest that this obviously indicates there was already attraction on both sides, although its extremely doubtful either would have ever acted upon it. (As a well-known television reporter, Roxanne may have been too well aware of the potential destruction of her career, and Megamind, despite having her at his mercy numerous times, was obviously too goodhearted to make a move without invitation. You can read more about the latter in Megamind and Masculinity.)

Smart is Hot

This, then, leaves us with the question of exactly what did attract Roxanne to Megamind. Does she simply have a thing for blue aliens, or is it something more than that? One fan theory suggests that the answer lies in a line that was cut from the final version of the screenplay. Initially, after telling Megamind, who was then disguised as Bernard, that Metroman had never been her type, she added that she’d always preferred brains over brawn. That is interesting because intelligence is certainly something the former supervillain has in abundance. In a previous Fan Theory Thursday post, Why Kidnap Roxanne, we explored the likelihood of Megamind’s clearly ingenious species being naturally attracted to intellect. The thing is that he may not have been the only one. Merriam-Webster defines the term sapiosexual as someone who experiences “sexual or romantic attraction to highly intelligent people.” As you can guess from the mere fact that this word exists, it is fully possible for some humans to possess this inborn predisposition. Many fans believe that Roxanne Ritchi is, indeed, a sapiosexual, and this may be one reason why she would fall head-over-heels for a super-genius, alien or otherwise. In fact, as discussed in How Smart is Megamind, the blue man may quite literally be the smartest person on Earth, making him extremely alluring to someone already attracted by brilliance.

Indeed, according to fan theories, several things about Roxanne’s character support this idea. She was originally imagined as an investigative reporter, so she’s obviously not stupid. She appears to dislike Hal not based upon his appearance but rather due to his lack of intelligence and his constant harassment. Perhaps the most telling evidence, however, comes from comparing her reactions to Megamind and his former nemesis. As mentioned before, Metroman is supposed to be most people’s idea of masculine perfection. Simply look at the way his fans, especially the female ones, behave during the opening of his museum. Add to this the fact that he is largely based on Superman and Elvis Presley—both of whom were, at one time, considered extremely handsome—and we can safely assume that Metroman is supposed to be some sort of Adonis. He’s also wealthy, famous, and powerful; three qualities that many people might consider great advantages in a potential boyfriend. Nonetheless, Roxanne Ritchi shows no interest at all in him.

Conversely, while dating Megamind in his guise as “Bernard,” the woman’s attention—and perhaps her heart—seem to be captured by his conversation, intellect, wit, and humor. She initially begins spending time with him because she believes him to possess expert knowledge concerning Megamind as well as enough intelligence to help her decipher the supervillain’s plan. She clearly enjoys having long conversations with him, laughing at his humorous stories, and reading books together in a library. Granted, the last was done for research purposes in the film, but the Bad Blue Brilliant comics show Megamind and Roxanne planning a date at a library after the blue man has become a hero. Obviously a shared love of books was something Roxanne liked about him. It appears that such traits attracted the reporter while riches and model-perfect looks couldn’t.

Of course, Roxanne rejects the former villain after she learns who he really is, but one Megamind fan theory suggests that that was almost certainly not because of him, but rather because of his actions. It makes sense. She is hurt and infuriated that he lied to her, and she makes her objections to some of his past behaviors known in no uncertain terms. However, when considering the charges she lays at his proverbial doorstep, it’s clear that what she cannot abide is his criminal behavior. She accuses him of murder, taking control of the city, and tricking her. Furthermore, she seems convinced that his only purpose in disguising himself was to toy with her emotions for his own sadistic amusement.

As the film progresses, however, she realizes that he did not actually kill Metroman and that he was sincere about their relationship. That, in turn, removes many of her objections and creates room for her love to grow once more. Indeed, when Megamind, obviously upset, mentions their breakup while they are driving to Metroman’s hideout, Roxanne briefly displays a sorrowful expression before apparently hardening her resolve and slamming on the breaks. (This was likely because she still thought the former villain guilty of murder.) Furthermore, during this unused clip cut from the final film, while taunting his captive, Titan refers to Megamind as Roxanne’s boyfriend, and she doesn’t correct him. Moments later, when he tells the woman to summon her hero, she doesn’t hesitate to issue a heartfelt plea to Megamind. When she sees the blue man make his grand entrance, the look on Roxanne’s face says clearly that she knew he would come. When she believes Megamind to be wounded, Roxanne weeps, and when he, at last, takes up the position of Defender, she kisses his cheek. It seems the woman has grown to trust and love the former Master of All Villainy.

It’s What’s Inside That Counts

Megamind’s intelligence is likely not the only reason Roxanne finds herself falling for him. Many fan theories suggest that his personality was also a driving factor. As mentioned before, he is funny and likable during their dates. When they ride bikes together, he’s clearly having fun, and that makes him fun to be around. While dining out, just before the kiss and the holowatch’s malfunction, he obviously charms her. Even before that, however, the blue man seems to display some very positive traits. His mourning his nemesis, laughing with Minion, and playing with the brainbots all evince a kind heart hidden beneath the black leather and spikes. That same trait continues to appear throughout the film. Later in the narrative, during Titan's attack, Megamind displays a concern for the people of Metro City despite those same people having ostracized him all his life. He is manifestly not as evil as he tries to appear. In fact, his treatment of his damsel offers further proof of this. While he has Roxanne tied up in his Lair as bait for Metroman, it becomes obvious that Megamind’s so-called doom devices have been carefully calibrated not to actually harm the woman, and she seems to know it as she shows no fear. She even seems to enjoy her situation sometimes. When Megamind makes a veiled Star Wars reference, Roxanne smirks as if she’s trying not to laugh.

Thus it appears extremely likely that, from the start of the movie, the reporter already knew Megamind was too good a person to actually hurt her and it seems she appreciated his geeky humor. This is hardly surprising. According to the prequel comic, The Reign of Megamind, he has had more than 600 failed plots and Roxanne has been his compulsory guest of honor for many of them. Consider how much time for interaction that must have afforded them before the cameras started rolling. Even if Roxanne was only awake for an average of half an hour before each actual battle began, that would still mean that she spent roughly 300 hours alone in Megamind and Minion’s company. To put it in perspective, that’s twelve-and-a-half days! It seems nearly impossible that Roxanne could spend the equivalent of nearly two weeks in Megamind’s company without some of his charm, kindness, and humor showing through. This is quite possibly another reason for her evident attraction.

That’s not all. As mentioned in the post What Sort of Hero Will Megamind Be, the blue man lists several qualities necessary for a Defender while discussing the topic in the Metroman Museum. Although he doesn’t seem to recognize it at the time, he actually displays all of them with the exception of his former adversary's DNA. Strength? The fact that Megamind breaks a saw on Titan’s face while punching him indicates that the former villain is far more physically powerful than he looks, and his ability to remain calm and think under extreme pressure suggests that he has serious willpower. Determination? Megamind talks about learning from his many defeats, and the simple fact that he continued to get up and try again after losing more than 600 times shows that he certainly doesn’t give up easily. Courage? The alien genius goes to Roxanne for help in finding Titan’s weakness rather than fleeing despite Titan’s attempt to kill him. Afterward he puts his life on the line to save Roxanne from the new villain—and that’s after facing a superpowered foe for years. Whatever else he may be, no one can argue that Megamind isn’t brave.

Finally, there’s also Megamind’s industriousness. Imagine how many inventions he must have constructed over the years… There would doubtlessly be hundreds! Everyone one of them had to be not only built but also designed and tested. How many hours of plans, calculations, schematics, calibrations, and labor go into each one? It's unclear, but what is certain is that, despite clearly knowing how to have fun, the blue man just as obviously understands the value of hard work. It’s doubtful that laziness is a vice he has ever suffered from.

So, why is Roxanne Ritchi attracted to Megamind? While we may never know how physically desirable she finds him—although fans speculate that, based on their relationship, she must find him handsome—the blue man possesses plenty of other beguiling virtues. Alien or not, Roxanne obviously finds his intelligence and personality too alluring to ignore, and as soon as he embraced goodness rather than behaving in destructive ways she could not condone, she gave him her heart. If you consider it, that really isn’t shocking at all. If any one of us were courted by a person who was smart, funny, courageous, kind, charming, hardworking, fun-loving, and strong, would we remain unaffected? Or would we, like the movie’s heroine, tumble head-over-heels into love? In the end, it’s little wonder that Roxanne fell for the new Defender of Metro City. It would have been more surprising if she hadn’t.

That concludes this week’s Fan Theory Thursday! I hope you enjoyed it!

[hartlow]

the last post i reblogged reminds me of this girl i met at summer camp. her name was sabrina; she was a year or two older than me, so she was in a different cabin and i rarely saw her. she was really popular with both the kids and the counselors, but the two times we interacted, she was kinder than anyone had ever been to me before.

first time we met: i was relaxing in a hammock when she passed by me with a group of other girls (that was during a period of time where you're technically not allowed to just be in the hammocks, but i was a 12 year old hiding my chronic illness; if she knew that was the rule, she didn't say anything). she told me the dinner bell rang a while ago, so i quickly got up like "oh crap, i didn't hear it". she asked if i wanted to walk with her and the other girls. this was SUPER awkward for me as a 12 year old. she was a 14 year old with other 14 year olds, and when you're that age, you think 14 year olds are so much cooler than you. i said sure anyway, though, and as we walked up the hill, she asked me what my name was. i immediately panicked. i don't know if what i had was exactly a lisp, but s's and l's were hard for me when i was nervous, and my deadname had one of those letters, so i introduced myself in the WORST way possible. stuttering, very quiet, basically lisping my name. i cringed at myself and was dreading the possibility of her mishearing me saying a different name, and me having to correct her, as i often had to do with people. but she just smiled as if i didn't completely fuck up, and was like "(deadname)? i like that, that's pretty!". we might've talked more before we reached the dining hall and split up to sit with our cabins, but that at least stuck out to me most. getting a compliment like that from a complete stranger, not to mention one of the Cool Kids in my eyes was very shocking.

second time: it was a different day, and a collection of kids were on the dining hall porch, which had some games set up on the picnic tables. i was aimlessly walking from game to game to observe other people, and started standing on the sidelines as sabrina was playing apples to apples with some campers. they were definitely deep into the game, but sabrina saw that i was watching her, and said to me "here, you look like you want to play. you can have my seat!". not only did she say it, but she genuinely, very quickly got up out of her seat and made a motion for me to sit there. THIS FREAKED MY ANXIOUS ASS OUT LOL. i felt so appreciated, but i genuinely did NOT want to play with these people i didn't know, so it was very awkward as i stuttered, again, and convinced her she could continue playing. i probably straight up ran away to some other area of the camp after that. i don't remember.

i do know that, at least at one point, i ran away to the bathrooms to stare at myself in the mirror, because i was scared i was gay.

i was gay. i interacted with a lot of kind girls there, a lot of them much more frequently than sabrina, and none of them made me freak out the way she would. we had two interactions, and i was kept very occupied at that camp, yet i would still find myself thinking about her. she had long, curly blonde hair and blue eyes. i had never noticed anyone's eye color that wasn't a family member before. i remember pretentiously comparing them in my mind to sapphires.

that year was her last year before you aged out of the camp. i had really wanted her contact information (because i "just wanted to be her friend"), but i chickened out in the end since we hardly talked, and a middle schooler trying to become friends with a high schooler felt unbelievably humiliating. her opinion mattered to me too much, so if she ghosted me, or god forbid rejected me right in front of me, it would've broken me. i couldn't take that risk. i had to go home, knowing i wouldn't see her again and it was honestly heart-wrenching.

it still gets me a little sad. do i think i would've ended up dating this girl at 12 years old? of course not. my mindset was nowhere near that concept. with how unstable i was, it was probably wise that i protected my mental health and didn't risk the rejection. yet she was so nice... even if she turned me down, which she probably would have, she probably would've done it in a very kind way, and then i could say i had given it a shot. or maybe we could've ended up friends, which would've been fantastic. i needed that kind of positivity in my life.

you really have to risk giving things a try. i learned that the hard way. but i'm at least glad i met her in the first place. remembering her always reminds me people aren't so bad.

[conniecorleone]

I posted 4,999 times in 2022

6 posts created (0%)

4,993 posts reblogged (100%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@queenofparrys

@meyerlansky

@saltskinandasociopath

@tikkunolamorgtfo

@dollsome-does-tumblr

I tagged 2,525 of my posts in 2022

Only 49% of my posts had no tags

#stranger things - 213 posts

#art - 208 posts

#cuddly things - 165 posts

#goncharov - 126 posts

#your girl - 93 posts

#storyfeelings - 85 posts

#fashion - 77 posts

#silly things - 75 posts

#star wars - 67 posts

#pretty places - 61 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#i love the raspberry bushes growing in the woods behind my house but hate that i have to fight my way through so much poison ivy to get them

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Contrary to popular belief, lacrosse IS a real sport 🥍🥍 (at KeyBank Center) https://www.instagram.com/p/CcJWXDuu4TU/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

1 note - Posted April 9, 2022

#4

*Mission Impossible theme intensifies* https://www.instagram.com/p/CZVmh77LqHb/?utm_medium=tumblr

1 note - Posted January 29, 2022

#3

I truly am the melodic sound of this bird stomping angrily around

2 notes - Posted July 11, 2022

#2

So I had an AMAZING time at the Backstreet Boys concert but I definitely forgot:

A) That the "Boyz 4 Now" episodes of Bob's Burgers are, in fact, a documentary

B) Just how much of their back catalogue lives rent-free in my brain

And, most importantly, C) Just how much of said back catalogue relied on a lot of strategic hat-based choreography

It was a good time, all I'm saying 🎶💥🧢💥🎶

3 notes - Posted July 4, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓 fields forever, you know

Now I'm going to have this song stuck in my head all day

But I digress!! Here are some random fun facts about me, one strawberry emoji at a time!!

🍓 I can cook, I can bake, but some of my favorite things in the world to make are pasta, soup, and carrot cake.

🍓 When I was younger and suuuuuuuper depressed, I used to go for long drives at night around my hometown when I couldn't sleep, heading up to the airport and out to the country and into the city and back. I still think going for long drives is one of the most soothing things in the world.

🍓 My favorite color is green! Which you would honestly not know from my wardrobe, which is mostly various shades of black and blue and red.

🍓 The only quasi-convincing accent I can put on is a Russian one, and oof, it might be funny, but it is not good.

🍓 When I was a kid I dislocated both my elbows trying to do a cartwheel -- two different cartwheels, two different times, one elbow after the other.

🍓 I hate my job!!! I hate it more than I hate any of the jobs I have had in the past, and I was robbed at gunpoint at one of them!! This job makes me feel crazy and like I am bad at not only what I do for it, but as a person, full stop, and I don't want to do it anymore!! I am in the process of looking for another one and this is probably the least fun fact in the world but I just needed to say this somewhere!!!

🍓 I used to sing! In public! For people! I still sing in my car and when I'm alone but I miss performing like missing a limb. One of the only nice things about current job is that when the museum I work at closes for the day, and if I am the last one in the building to clock out, sometimes I can take a little bit of time before I leave and sing in the empty main space because the acoustics there are excellent.

Which, speaking of, I think I already know the next song I'm going to add to my personal setlist, since you got it stuck in my head...

🎶🎵so let me take you down, 'cause i'm going to....🎵🎶

(leave a 🍓 in my askbox and I will tell you a random fact!)

5 notes - Posted August 20, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[soulfullofold]

bro yes. yes. yes. i am menacing #31 and #41 and #48 lol and #22 for the spice. Also since you went certifiably deranged in my inbox this is my free ticket to you to answer any of them that look interesting to you >:)

(DOES A LITTLE JIG)

31. Pick one OC & explain what their tumblr would be like

Xiyu's tumblr would be so funny. Tan, charcoal grey, light green, light blue, and white as the color scheme. It starts off minimalist & "~aesthetic~" with just a left sidebar and a one-column scroll. Simple bio. Totally dedicated to posting her poetry. And then as it gets popular, it pivots into a writing help askblog of sorts. She's put her truncated FAQ as the right sidebar (with a link to a miles-long, hyper specific FAQ) and like the status of her inbox and what requests she's open for. Occasionally she reblogs her friends' calligraphy. and you Know she's got a dedicated tagging system. I would say she goes off in the tags but she doesn't hide ANYTHING in the tags. Commentary Straight on the post.

41. Has anyone drawn fanart of your OCs?

BUT REALLY I'm very veryveryveryvery thankful for it and so touched ;m; It's so hard to pick!! I keep any art I get of my OCs in my dA favorites. Here's only the tiniest sampling of some of my faves: a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z ♥ And a THOUSAND MILLION other things I want to show but I'm trying to keep the parameters to only stuff posted on dA so it links directly back to the creators too if you wanna follow them :) <3

48. OC who is a perfect cinnamon roll, too good for this world, too pure

jesus christ kK;FLASDFJA;SDF the way 2015 smacked me in the ass ok. uh uh i wish i could come up with something better and snarkier and more witty but literally all of my ocs are scrappy like there isn't a single one who hasn't committed a crime, done something bad, or -- ... wait.

Ora's butterflies have done nothing wrong in their lives they are my bewinged cinnamon rolls. i guess.asdlkfj;a

anddd questions phoned in from vlpn: 31. Pick one OC & explain what their tumblr would be like

Elle's blog would be all blurry, low to the ground, kind of strange photos scanned from instant camera prints. They're both kind of unsettling in their contextless nature but also sort of whimsical and charming. 5. If you could make only one of your OCs popular/known, who would it be?

This is SUCH a hard question. Because like. On the one hand, of course I want to make my OCs known because I love them to death. But at the same time I just. I WORRY about them being tossed to the dogs. I'm going to say probably Ora since I've developed her the most and she could hold her own against anyone who would be weird about her.

24. If you could meet one OC of yours, who would it be and why?

There's literally. They're all ghosts. If I met any of them I would be in such deep shit. Maybe Mossclaw because I would give her a good home where she would never have to worry about being a feral cat again. ;m;

[epic-sorcerer]

Queer imagery in BBC Merlin

Content warning: kink/fetish, fisting in particular but I show I big image containing a long list of different kinks, homophobia, dom/sub dynamics, sex

Merlin is shown wearing a purple tunic in s4, despite the fact he is a servant and purple(especially with such saturation) was extremely expensive bc purple dye was so hard to make. Gwen also has a light purple dress(or maybe 2? It’s hard to tell). Even though it’s definitely lighter than Merlins tunic, it’s still expensive.

it was illegal for peasants to wear expensive fabrics because of the Sumptuary Law. Basically it makes sure that lower class people are not fashionable. However, BBC Merlin doesn’t seam to care about that law, considering Merlins other bright clothing so take this was a grain of salt.

Basically what I’m trying to say is that there’s no way they could have gotten their hands on these clothes without the help of nobles. Gwen might have, because she works with clothing and could have easily mixed blue and red dye together. Merlin probably not have because he’s never shown to be particularly materialistic or interested much in fashion, despite his bright clothes. Bright Purple would have been much, much harder to get.

It makes the most sense for Merlin and possibly Gwen too to have been gifted such expensive clothing by a noble for being a good servant. I’d imagine Arthur would be the one to give Merlin the tunic and morgana the dresses.

Why does this matter? Lavender(and also purple in general) was considered a queer color starting in the 19th century. Queer men especially were said to possess a “streak of lavender” and a serge of homophobia at the time was often referred to as the “Lavender Scare.” Purple and lavender is still used now to symbolize queerness.

Since Merlin is a modern interpretation of Arthurian myths, it would be perfectly plausible that this symbol was on purpose. Merlin/Arthur and Gwen/Morgana are both extremely popular ships and they are both shown to have a very deep form of trust(Gwen/Morgana being at the beginning of the show). Arthur and Morgana gifting Merlin and Gwen purple clothing could be show them they accept their queerness and/or signaling their own queer attraction to them.

Now, this next symbolism concerns only Merlin/Arthur.

Merlin is shown to have three neckerchiefs.

Navy blue, red, and light grey. Why does this matter? Well, let’s take a look at something called the handkerchief code, also known as the hanky code or “flagging.”

This code has its origins all the way back in time during the Wild West in the USA, but got more popular during the late 20th century in USA and UK gay bars. This code was used mainly by queer men and some nonbinary people to signal to other queers what they wanted sexually. While typically worn in people’s back pockets, a handkerchief could also be worn around one’s neck to show they are a versatile and experienced.

According to this code, Merlin is into;

Red: fisting and getting fisted. This color was hard to get an exact shade from, but the second best option was dark red for double fisting which is honestly so similar I’m not sure if it really matters much.

Light grey: stone topping and getting fucked by a stone top

Navy blue: fucking and being fucked anally

For any one wanting to make their own interpretations of Merlins neckerchief colors(the lighting makes it hard to tell the exact ones) have a look at this handy chart

Not only that, but Arthur is seen wearing a favour on his left arm in s3 ep 4.

What’s a favour? It’s a fabric strip of affection commonly given by maidens to knights before a tournament as a symbol of good luck. It’s often a very important scarf, hankcerchlif , towel, really any bit of cloth that can be tied around someone’s arm. This is also a popular trope in historical media for a female love interest to give a favour to a male one to show chemistry between them.

Regardless of your stance on Merlins gender identity, you have to admit how commonly Merlin is shown to be gender nonconforming(GNC) or otherwise be associated with “womanly” qualities. Especially in a society so heteronormative, the only “pure” option for a knight receiving a romantic gesture would have it be from a woman. If the token was from a queer man, it would also out the noble and cause lots of horrific chaos and destroy both of their reputations.

Even if it was common for women to give knights favours, queer men still existed and with that came romantic gestures—this time hopefully more secret.

Even though the favour on Arthur’s arm doesn’t look exactly like Merlin’s neckerchief, Merlin was the only person to speak with him while preparing for the tournament. Also, the original theorist who I linked in my sources also pointed out that Merlins neckerchief looks lopsided. Almost like Merlin tore off a bit of it and hastily tied it back on.

Although this theory is definitely flawed, it doesn’t matter. Arthur is still wearing a red handkerchief on his left arm. But what does that tell us exactly?

Regardless of wether or not it was Merlin’s, the red is the same shade and also implies Arthur is also into fisting. What about the placement? Sicne it’s on his left, it shows that he is a top/dom, meaning that he prefers to be the one fisting. Since it is worn around his upper arm, it shows that he is simply into the fetish, compared to what other placements mean. In another source, it shows taht upper arm means switch, but because Arthur is wearing it on his left it wouldn’t really make sense for him to signal being a “top-switch” compared to being a top and having the fetish in general.

If you look closely, you can see a different colored stripe on the favour. It’s hard to tell exactly what the color is, it could be yellow, gold, orange, etc. because the color is so dubious, I’ll just leave y’all with a list of color meanings that may apply to Arthur’s favour.

YELLOW: pisser/watersports kink

YELLOW, Pale: spitter/spit kink

MUSTARD: Has 8+ inch dick

GOLD: two looking for one

ORANGE: anything anytime

Also, it’s important to bring up what many in thsi fandom refer to as the “fisting scene.” Where Arthur threatens Merlin by showing him his gloved fist and pulling a bit at the glove.

In the blooper, you can see Merlin’s actor(Colin Morgan) breaking character and giggling as Arthur shows him his fist. Many in the fandom agree that this was a clear innuendo for fisting, and it is very well possible.

Merlin is shown hitting Arthur and saying he was just doing some horse play, but still indirectly convincing Arthur that he needs to teach Merlin a lesson. This is actually a common act in BDSM sex, where the submissive person purposely angers the dominant into punishing them in a way that somehow involves sex or fetish play.

If you look closely, you can see Merlin is wearing at kinky red fisting handkerchief, showing Merlin is perfectly capable of being a submissive fistee. Also, the hanky code also includes other symbols such as latex or rubber gloves that, surprise surprise, also mean fisting. Although it’s more likely Arthur’s gloves where made of leather, it can still further be interpreted as a fisting symbol if you want. Either way, Arthur’s favour still holds water as he is undoubtedly the dom in this situation.

Also, Merlin is very impulsive and a madlad. Tell me he wouldn’t wear his secret fetish symbols infrount of stuck up, Roman Catholics who are none the wiser. He’d probably think it’s hilarious which is probably why he wears them almost everyday. Merlin loves playfully misbehaving(and is also a brat sometimes) so it makes sense for him to have some dangerous fun.

Now, you may be asking. Why does this matter? At the end of the day, it probably wasn’t intentional. Well, there is alwyas room for doupt BUT I do have some ferther proof. One of the co writers of BBC Merlin—Johnny Capps—actually won a Stone Wall Award. You know, an award named after a core part of queer culture?

The award’s website and Wikipedia page say they give the award for art that describes the LGBT experience well. While I am unsure why or what Capps made to be nominated, it still shows he is very much in touch with queer culture. Capp himself even said at an interview about Merlin, “... in the end, deep, deep down it’s about sexuality and things you just can’t tackle head-on.”

Well, what says more about sexuality than the main characters fist fucking each other? That’s a lot of sexuality. While I am unsure of Capp’s age, he does look to be about middle age and it would make sense for him to know about a code popularized in a 70s to 90s. Especially for someone who has made multiple queer oriented stories in his life time.

Sources:

Why is purple considered the color of royalty?

Sumptuary law

How lavender became a symbol of LGBTQ resistance

How Lavender Became a Symbol of LGBTQ Resistance(part 2)

flagging opinicus rampant

Handkerchief code

DO YOU KNOW THE HANKY CODE?

Picspam: The Red Favour (Proof of Arthur Wearing Merlin's Favour in 3x04)

Five medieval love tokens

The Lady's Favour

Hanky codes

Nominees for Stonewall Awards announced

Merlin series 5 spoiler-free launch report

Pls reblog I spent hours on this /np 😭👊

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife For Thor Pt.01

10/12/2020

Arrivals and Departures

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 6,990

Warnings: language, talks of death, angst, talks of sex,

A/N: This is seriously...I mean, I don’t even know where this came from. Credits to @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​ because Roo gave me the idea and I kinda ran with it. Like omg, y’all. Blame Roo. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo Dialogue from Thor Ragnarok has been used in the beginning of this story.

Please do not REPOST my stories anywhere. Reblogs are most welcome!

He stands with his arms crossed in what appears to be a small sitting room with a large window that opens to the sublime sight of the black space beyond. Sterling silver, radiant red, and brilliant blue stars twinkle into infinity.

This is a sight that Thor had seen many times before and yet, for the first time in an age, he felt hopeful for the future.

His fight had ended. With Ragnarok, his journey had reached an end. Not the end, but certainly that of a chapter I which his battles might rest.

He imagines that this might be how his father felt when he had taken charge of the nine realms.

However violent that takeover might have been, his father had lied about many things—his sister for one—it had been the beginning of a quieter reign. A new formative time for his father. He may not have been a perfect man, but he’d grown wiser in many ways. Still not the best father, but his father, nonetheless.

Thor can almost picture his life on Earth, a time of peace. A time to rebuild. He will be able to give his people a good life there and he’s certain that his friends will appreciate having him closer. Friends from work they may be, but friends.

“Do you really think it’s a good idea to go back to Earth?” Loki asks, standing beside him with his hands held gently at his front.

Thor looks at him, waiting a moment to allow him to finish speaking.

“Yes, of course.” Thor assures him. “The people of Earth love me. I’m very popular.”

Loki takes a breath, looking out the window as he quickly accepts his brother’s reasoning while simultaneously realizing he must word this differently to get his point across.

“Let me rephrase that.” Loki begins, “Do you really think it’s a good idea to bring me back to Earth?”

Thor knows that Loki has a point. His history with Earth is…not perfect. To say the least.

“Probably not, to be honest.” He admits, noting Loki’s apprehension.

Loki smiles, a little knowing.

“I wouldn’t worry, brother.” Thor tells him, both turning back to the void outside. “I feel like everything’s going to work out fine.”

The moment seems endless, the two of them waiting as if the something should or might happen after Thor’s optimistic sentiments.

Then the moment passes and Loki sighs.

“Right, well, I’ll start rounding up the people who will be of the most use once we arrive.”

Thor gives his brother one parting smile but doesn’t watch him leave.

Thor doesn’t know exactly what has changed in him, what makes him so confident in this decision, but he knows it’s the best decision he could have made. And if he’s honest, though he’d never admit it out loud, the possibility of finally being on the same planet as Jane…well, he’d be a fool not to consider the possibilities.

~~~~~~~~~~

Something feels different today.

As you wake, turning onto your side to stare across the small room at the blinking line on the blank word document on your computer screen, you can’t quite put your finger on what is making you nervous.

Your stomach is rolling, making you queasy, despite the fact that you have no reason to be anxious.

Yesterday was like the day before and today will be just like yesterday. Nothing in your life ever changes, and that’s become so much of who you are that whenever you have even a doctor’s appointment your heart begins to race in dreaded anticipation.

With trembling hands you clutch your blanket, trying to find a reason behind this mood. Your breath quickens as your heart panics, your mind scrambling to make sense of these emotions but nothing comes to mind.

So, you get out of bed. You get dressed choosing a simple knee length black dress that fits loose enough to keep you comfortable throughout the day. Then you head into the kitchen and start the coffee pot.

Halfway through the brew you shut the machine off and rush to dump out its contents into the sink.

“Fuck.”

You sigh, realizing you should really invest in decaf coffee for morning just like this.

“Tea. Tea is better.” You rationalize and pull your kettle off the warmer and fill it in the sink.

You replace it in its dock then turn your back to it, hands gripping the edge of the counter as you lean against it.

Your fingers stroke the smooth and unvarnished wooden countertop, suddenly going rigid around the lip as your heart goes frantic again.

The island counter directly in front of you is made of the same unvarnished wood, a slightly mismatched chair on the other side, tucked in beside the open shelving that holds your pots and pans. Along the center of the island sits a small vase with nearly completely withered flowers.

You’re filled with relief as your hands are given new task and you hurry forward and take the clear glass vase, toss the flowers—which crumble as they hit yesterday’s empty cereal box—dump the water in the sink and quickly refill it.

Setting the vase aside, you pull open a drawer and pluck from an array of contents a small packet of flower food, a pair of small pruners, a long piece of twine, and head out the back door to your modest backyard.

There isn’t much in it, and it’s unfenced. A large tree at the back-left corner provides shade and pecans. In the center of the yard sits a set of antique iron work garden furniture. Twisted and shaped into what reminds you of lace. Two smaller chairs and one long bench with curved backs.

You’ve been of a mind to buy cushions for them, but you haven’t found an excuse to justify the expense.

In between the garden set sits an outdoor coffee table made of wood and painted white. It’s fading and will need a new coat soon but again the expense can wait. At least until you sell another story.

Apart from this set and a small wooden shed beside the pecan tree, your yard is mostly overgrown grass and carefully cultivated flowers lining the length of your narrow back porch.

You smile, noticing the length of your grass, grateful for another something to keep you busy today. Something to keep your mind off this mysterious and anxious premonition of something to come.

Quickly you move to a large blooming bush at the end of your porch and cut from it several bunches of pink and blue garden phlox.

You admire the shade of the blue flowers. The color reminds you a pair of blue eyes you’d once seen on a woman who’d come to your school as a child.

She’d been beautiful and kind, but she hadn’t picked you. Still, you’d never forgotten the color of her eyes.

The pink is pastel at the edges of its petals and vibrant magenta at the center.

As you head back in, the kettle only barely beginning to steam, you quickly arrange the bunches you’ve picked and wrap them up with the twine. You set the bushel aside and with the vase pulled close, you tear the packet of flower food with your teeth and pour it in.

Replacing the flowers, you give the kettle one more look before you race back into your bedroom to pick out a more appropriate outfit for cutting the grass.

You decide on a pair of jeans and a plain yellow t-shirt. Pulling them on, you pause with your shirt hooked around your arms as your eyes find your laptop screen, annoyingly black still.

With a groan you pull your shirt on and from the kitchen you hear the whistle.

Breakfast is simple. A store-bought muffin and a cup of breakfast tea do the trick and while you’re still chewing your last bite you head out to cut your grass.

It doesn’t take you too long and you lament the last bit as you cut it, the machine vibrating violently in your nervous grip.

No matter how much you try to distract yourself, this feeling of something terrible coming will not go away and you’re about to go out of your mind when a shout from your back door pulls your mind from it.

Standing there is an older man with an unconventionally handsome face. His lips are thin, cheekbones prominent, brown eyes sunken, and his nose long and defined. His dark hair slicked and parted, neatly kept to match his crisp navy suit.

“Aren’t you a little overdressed?” You shout at him as the whirr of the machine dies into silence.

The man moves towards you, a smile brightening his face.

“I was just at a meeting.” He explains.

“Do you ever stop working?” You wonder, pushing the lawn mower towards the shed as he follows.

“Only when I’m on vacation.” He tells you, amusement in his voice but subdued and you only hear it because you’ve known him for years.

“You don’t take vacations.” You sputter, almost laughing.

“Precisely.” He agrees.

He waits for you to shut the door and when you turn, he greets you with open arms.

“How have you been?” He asks, holding the hug for longer than you’re used to which only adds to the anxiety you’ve been feeling all morning.

What’s going on?!

“Hey, you okay?” You ask him, ignoring his question in favor of satisfying your curiosity.

He doesn’t answer but holds the hug a moment longer before pulling back to look at you.

“We have to talk.” He tells you, making your heart pound.

“Okay. You want some breakfast?” You offer, and swallow hard as your fear mounts.

“Sure.” He says and follows you inside.

You make him a full breakfast. Eggs, bacon, breakfast sausage, and buttered toast with a cup of coffee. Just because you can’t stand the idea of being hyped up on caffeine today doesn’t mean David won’t.

He digs right in while you stand on the other side of the island, sipping on your second cup of tea in hopes that it will ease your frayed nerves.

For a few minutes he gobbles down your food but when you shift on your feet for the fourth time, he clears his throat, takes a drink of his coffee, then puts his fork down.

“It’s not exactly bad news.” He assures you, easing you a little but something tells you that you still won’t like it.

“Just tell me, David.”

“As your lawyer,” He begins, sitting back in your old wobbly chair. “It’s my duty to inform you when there are developments with your family’s estate.”

“Right.” You agree, remembering the day he’d found you when you’d turned eighteen to tell you that you weren’t exactly as poor as you’d thought.

You’re not really rich either. You have a little money that your parents set aside for you. Old money that you hadn’t really touched. You use it mostly for bills when you can’t sell a story fast enough and most of your wealth is in this cottage. A family home that you’d had no idea was yours until David brought you here.

Finally, a home, after living in that school all those years.

“Well, I think it might be time to reveal a little more of that estate’s history.”

“Why?” You put down the floral porcelain cup and wrap your arms around yourself, afraid of what he’ll say.

How did you know that something was coming? What kind of sixth sense do you have?!

“After all this time, why would it matter?” You sigh, moving to pull out the second chair to his right on the shorter end of the island.

“Don’t panic.” He tells you, reaching over to place his hand over yours. “Let’s keep our heads. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“You say that, but why do I feel like that’s not exactly true?” You sigh.

He blinks, gathering his thoughts before he nods.

“I think I’ll tell you all at once. Like ripping a band-aid. Might be the easiest for you.” He realizes.

You don’t disagree.

“Your family comes from a very small people in Europe. Their origins are hard to trace but we know that they travelled between France, Norway, Denmark, Romania, Belgium, Sweden, Austria, Greece, and even spent a large amount of time in hiding in the United Kingdom.”

“I get it, they were nomads.” You sigh, your mood taking a turn from the anticipation of clarity.

“Yes. Nomads.” David agrees, patting your hand in an attempt to calm you. “I only mention it because there are many questions as to where they had originated from. No one seems to know. Unfortunately, I don’t think that question will ever be answered as all records before their stint in France have been lost.

“What we do know is that your ancestors, your bloodline are royalty.” David says, as easily as if he were telling you your age. “Even though the titles have long since been lost, you are technically—though you have no country to rule over—a princess.”

Slowly his words sink in and your face begins to relax. You look down at his hand over yours and without warning you laugh once. Then again, and again, until you’re leaning on your chair, head thrown back as your whole body shakes with it.

“What is so funny?” David asks, unamused but he goes back to eating.

“This is a joke, right? You’re pulling my leg.” You gasp, breath shallow.

“Not one little bit.” He shakes his head. “If we knew what country your ancestors came from, you would very much be in some palace or castle, reigning over your people. Your parents, were they alive, would have been King and Queen.

“You may not think it possible, but that is your legacy, Y/N. You are of royal blood.” David insists which sobers you a little, but you think it’s so silly that this is what you’d been so scared of.

This is what you’d been dreading?

“Okay. Fine. I believe you. But what does it matter? You said that if I still had a country then I would be princess, but clearly, I don’t. So, I’m not. What’s the point of telling me this when it makes absolutely no difference to my life?

“I don’t feel any different and it’s not like that makes me any richer? I’m still sitting on a decently sized fortune to assure that I don’t want for anything at least until my forties. What could this possibly change that you felt it necessary to tell me?”

David wipes his mouth with his napkin, finishing up the last bit of his coffee before he gets up and with his dirty plates moves towards the sink.

“Leave it, David. I’ll clean up later.” You watch him, sitting up a little straighter as that anxious feeling begins to grow again with his extended silence.

He washes the plate and as he does, your nerves begin to fray again. You anxiously pick at a small splinter in your island, waiting for him to speak.

He turns towards you as he finished washing his plate, then meets your eyes.

“You weren’t just revealing my heritage, were you?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I felt I needed to reveal your heritage because someone has reached out with the hopes of setting up a meeting with you.”

“Why would anyone wanna meet with me simply because they know of my lineage?” You wonder, slouched, hands moved to your lap to rest limply as you stare at David, fear increasing with every moment that passes.

“May I ask you a personal question?” He says, moving to stand closer as he dries his hand on your dishtowel.

“David, you know everything about me.” You sigh.

“Why haven’t you ever had a boyfriend? Or girlfriend? I’m not sure I’ve ever asked if you-?”

“To be honest, I don’t know either.” You shrug. “I’ve never really thought about it.”

“Not even as a child?” He wonders.

“I was too busy wishing for parents as a kid.” You clarify. “I didn’t have time for crushes or any of that stuff.”

“Are you opposed to a relationship?” David asks, dropping the towel then moving around to sit back down in his seat.

“Opposed?” You ask, shaking your head. “Not exactly opposed. I’ve just never known anyone worth caring about like that. I’m mainly here at home. I do go into town when I need to get my packages but there isn’t anyone there that…I don’t draw attention like that.”

“You’re a pretty girl.” David tells you, reaching over to tug on your sleeve. “When you aren’t sweaty and covered in grass clippings.”

You scoff, shaking your head.

“It’s not something I really worry about.” You admit.

“Would you ever want to get married?” David asks, and your heart is suddenly pounding.

The idea of being someone’s wife had crossed your mind once or twice. Mostly when you’d been jotting down ideas or plotlines for your books. In the end, because you didn’t think you had enough insight, you’d opted to remove all romance. You write mysteries.

“I don’t know that I’d be any good at it.” You confess. “I’m not…I can’t exactly picture myself being someone’s wife.”

“Why not?”

“Because I…I don’t even know what I’d be like in a relationship, sharing space and time, much less sharing an entire life?” You shake your head. “I’m not saying that I haven’t thought about it but it’s only ever been in passing.”

David goes silent, tapping his index finger against the island.

“David, please. You know I can’t take the suspense.” You plead.

“Yes. I’m sorry.” He nods then reminds himself, “Band-aid.”

You take a deep breath and turn to face him a little more in your seat.

“Well, you are aware of our planet’s newest inhabitants?”

“Th-The Asgardians in Norway?”

“Yes.” David nods. “Well, as a sign of good faith, to ensure that they will abide by Earth’s laws and to assuage any ideas from panicked world leaders that they might try and overtake the planet and make it their own, they have decided that marriage to someone from Earth might be the best way to do that.

“The Asgardian known as Brunnhilde has reached out to all families of royal blood and asked to meet with any eligible women, preferably—as she so tactfully put it—maidens.” He explains. “Which I take it you are?”

You swallow hard, your lungs rubbed of oxygen and yet you somehow manage to quietly acknowledge, “Yes. I’m a virgin.”

How can you not be after spending your whole life unconcerned with romance?

“You don’t have to do it, Y/N.” David suddenly says; however, you can see the ‘but’ in his eyes. “But if you don’t and the Asgardian king cannot choose from the women he does meet, you will probably be hunted down and forced to meet with him anyway.

“All world leaders are in agreement that this is the correct and only way to ensure the safety of the planet. They will not give up until every woman meeting the Asgardian’s requirements have been given the chance to meet with Thor.”

“Thor?!” You gasp, rising to your feet as hundreds if not thousands of images flash through your mind of the Thunder God and the Avengers fighting side by side.

“Yes.” David affirms, rising to his feet with you. “With the death of his father, he is now King of Asgard.”

Of course, Thor is going to be King. You already knew this. It’s common sense.

For some reason though, the confirmation made out loud, vocally…how the fuck are you supposed to marry Thor? An Avenger? That’s not…this cannot be real life!

“David,” You begin, apprehensive.

“I know. I know it is a lot to ask but as I said, I don’t believe we have much of a choice. He might very well not pick you.” David adds, rushing to comfort you and point out how unlikely you’d be the one Thor chooses to wed. “There are plenty of other women that he’s already met with. Women that are more suited to life in a palace than you are. The Hungarian princess is so eager to be Queen of Asgard that she’s been sending the other women bribes to try and convince them to refuse.

“It won’t make a difference, since they cannot refuse should Thor choose them.” David admits.

“A-all I have to do is meet with him?” You stutter, heart in your throat.

“Just a quick one-hour meeting. He’ll ask you questions. Get to know a bit about you. See if you are suited for life as Asgardian queen and then it’s over.” David assures you.

“I’m…There are lots of other women better for it, right?”

“Loads of them.” David promises.

New fears begin to take hold in your heart and mind.

It conjures up the last time you’d seen Thor, strutting from a massive spaceship docked over the ocean by New Asgard. He’d risen from its depths all wide shoulders and biceps. Heavy steps thudding as he’d stopped at the end of the massive ramp, waving at the cameras as his people had filed out behind him.

His hair cropped short as opposed to the long tresses he’d had when he’d last been on Earth, one eye missing with a sleek black and gold metal patch over it the absence.

You’ve never been threatened by him before. He’s a hero. But the prospect of being his wife and having wifely duties...

Your mind flies into panic as it shifts that large body over you, crawling towards you with his hands prying your legs open. The years of sexual experience radiating off of this fantasy Thor and all of his bulging muscles.

You almost want to throw up at the prospect of having to consummate a marriage. You haven’t exactly been eager to be with anyone since you haven’t met anyone special, but you’d at least imagined something more intimate. More personal.

“David I-they won’t choose me though, right?” You reach out for him because your legs are suddenly weak.

He takes hold of your arms and helps you stand still.

“They won’t.” He tells you, sounding convinced. “There are better candidates. Women with actual titles.”

He’s right. Of course, he’s right. He has to be right.

“It’s just a quick meeting.” He promises. “Then it’ll all be over, and you can come back to your cottage and live just as you have been, with no one to bother you.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Leaving your little place is difficult. After spending years without a home to call your own, now that you have your cottage, tearing yourself away from it is like pulling splinters.

You like your little yard. You like your flowers. You love your bed and its white sheets, little pink and yellow flowers printed on the soft fabric.

You’d made it more feminine. You’d brought flowers back and frills and lace. You’d made it everything you thought a cottage at the edge of a wood should look like and as time had gone by you’d brought in more personal touches.

After several years, your home is finally completely you.

This place, this massive Asgardian structure is less gold and more wood, stone, and iron. Silver steel polished so bright it gleams even in moonlight. This place is not you. It’s him. It’s Thor. His home.

Right now, with the day almost over, the palace takes on a warmer tone. The wooden structures and gray stone pillars are bathed in orange light, giving the place a pleasant glow and despite yourself, you can almost picture Thor meandering through these Nordic halls, a long crimson robe around his thick form.

It isn’t an unpleasant image now that you’ve given yourself some time to get used to the idea of him.

When you arrived you were greeted and seated in a large round room, the lower quarter of the sturdy walls made of ornate stone brick, the rest of the wall beautiful dark oak. The floor is also stone, massive carpets underneath several pieces of obviously Norse inspired furniture.

Well actually, the Norse was probably derived from Asgardian styles. There’s a difference in them that you can see but don’t understand. The coffee table in front of you has ornately carved legs, golden embellishments, and a black coat of paint.

The sofa you’re sitting on is mostly wood, painted gold, with plush and soft satin covered cushions in wine red.

There are two other tables around the room, a collection of books on one and an array of fruits, foods, and drinks on the other. There are several different statues and stands. Lamps that look as if they should have flames instead of the electric bulbs they now hold.

Small touches of modern design filter through the room complimenting the more traditional décor.

“Hello there.” Says a lilting voice.

You recognize it and turn to find Loki, slipping through a narrow opening in the large set of doors you’d been escorted through almost half an hour ago.

He’s dressed in a black suit with a plain white t-shirt underneath dressing the look down.

“H-Hi.” You stammer, surprised by his appearance.

You stand, knowing well that he may not be King but for Asgard, Loki is still a prince.

“No, please. Do not get up on my account.” He gestures at your seat and you settle back in as he crosses to the table with all the books. “I forgot some papers in here, I only came to retrieve them. Do not mind me.”

You avert your eyes, afraid to see something you shouldn’t and sit just as stiffly as before, hands fisting the royal purple dress you’d chosen to wear. It’s simple, quarter sleeves, high neckline with a small V at the center. Just above your knees in length, it rises as you grip it.

“Nervous to meet my brother?” Loki asks, stopping by the doors as he eyes your tight grip.

“This whole situation is a little stressful.” You admit. “I’m…I live in a small house in the middle of nowhere. I don’t even know why I’m here.”

“Ah, you’re the one with the lost lineage.” Loki realizes, moving closer with interest. “A hidden princess. You could have refused to come, you know?”

“I would have been forced eventually.” You point out. “There are a lot of people who want this marriage thing to happen.”

“True.” Loki agrees, “My fault, I’m afraid. I make them nervous.”

“You did very nearly destroy New York.” You point out, remembering the carnage reported that day. The aftermath had taken forever to clean up.

“I did.” Loki agrees. “Do you fear me?”

“No.” You admit. “If you weren’t safe, Thor wouldn’t have brought you back here.”

“He could just be too trusting.”

“Maybe.” You agree. “But with the fate of his entire people tied to the successful acclimation of Asgard and Earth, if you were really a threat, I think he’d have cut you out before coming back.”

Loki’s lips slowly curl up into a smile before breaking apart into a toothy grin.

“What is your name again?” He asks, a sparkle of something in his eyes.

“Y/N.” You tell him. “Why?”

“No reason. This has been very illuminating, Y/N. It was lovely to meet you.” Loki says then with a quick bow of his head, he leaves you to your solitude.

Confused, you sit there completely at a loss for what just happened.

Had you taken too many liberties with Loki? What had that smile meant? You’d been made aware that Loki was also involved in recruiting women of royal blood into marriage meetings for Thor, but you hadn’t expected him to know you by the description of where you live.

Maybe because it’s so unlike anyone else’s?

You sit there stewing for another twenty minutes, wondering if maybe you’re being stood up when the large doors open once again.

You shoot up onto your feet, so damn nervous your body reacts without your permission. Through the door this time comes the man of the hour. The massive Thunder God dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans and a plain gray t-shirt crosses over to the table with food and pours himself a stein of what looks like beer from a sloshing brown pitcher.

“Estrid, is this from the new batch of ale?” He booms loud enough that he can be heard even outside of the room as he takes a quick sniff of the liquid.

His voice is so deep.

Licking your lips, you watch him drink the entire stein without taking a breath or waiting for an answer, and then refill it before grabbing it and taking an apple with his other hand.

He turns, holding the fruit up to his mouth and freezes with it pressed to his lips as he meets your eyes, realizing he isn’t alone.

You’re not exactly sure what to say or what to do, completely taken aback by this strange and sudden exposure to candid Thor. Both of you unprepared to see each other despite the fact that you’ve literally been waiting nearly an hour for him.

His confusion mounts as he lowers the apple, looking around as if expecting an explanation or to see if he’s in the correct room.

“What time is it?” He suddenly asks, meeting your gaze again.

“N-Nearly six.” You tell him, and his one good eye goes slightly wide.

“Oh!” His lips curl up into an easy smile. “I did not think it was that late.”

His smile makes you feel a little more at ease, but you’re still on edge.

“You’re my meeting.” He tells you, as if you don’t already know that. “Y/N? Y/L/N, right?”

“Yes.” You nod, then before you can stop yourself… “You’re late.”

Thor blinks. Startled it seems or maybe just surprised, but then he smiles again. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“I mean, you can be as late as you’d like. This is your meeting. Sorry. I didn’t…I don’t know why I said that.” You rush to say.

“No, no.” Thor turns to put down his stein of beer and the apple replaced in its bowl. “You’re right. I am late. We were supposed to meet at five, weren’t we?”

When he turns back to you, you nod.

“I’m sorry. I’m sure you have much you could be doing.” Thor says, moving towards you and gesturing at the spot you’d been in before sitting down at the other end of the sofa.

“No.” You confess. “Not really. I’m actually one of the only people that probably doesn’t have much to do. Well, I mean, I could be writing. Or cleaning house.”

“They tell me that you had no knowledge about your lineage before Brunnhilde reached out to your lawyer?”

You nod. “It’s not really important. Or…no. That’s not the right-what I mean to say is that it isn’t significant to my life.”

“Don’t you want to know who your family is?” Thor wonders.

“I know who my family is. I had a mom. And a dad. Both died just after I was born. That’s my family.” You explain. “Apart from getting to meet you, the news that my family was once royalty doesn’t change it in any way. I’m still just as insignificant today as I was before.”

Thor narrows his brow, watching you for a long torturous moment as he considers what you’d just said.

“Tell me about yourself.” He suddenly says, turning to lean back against the arm, his own thrown over the back, right leg bent up onto the sofa.

“There isn’t much to tell.” You admit. “I was born, my parents died in an accident. I was taken to a school for orphans where I grew up and aged out. On the day I had to leave, Mr. Valis found me and gave me my inheritance which is a good amount of money and a small house. I’ve been living there ever since.”

“You didn’t take any additional schooling?” Thor asks, relaxing. “All the other young women I’ve met have made it a point to tell me about the universities and colleges they’ve attended.”

“I took a few correspondence classes.” You tell him, “But I’ve only ever wanted to write, and I didn’t feel that I needed a higher education to do it. I mean, it would probably look better on my resume, but my writing should speak for itself.”

You can’t really tell what he’s thinking with the way he’s watching you, his hand playing with a thread on the back of the sofa.

You take it as a good sign that many of the other women have a degree of some sort. They must want someone respectable with a good education, right?

“How do you feel about political marriages?” He asks, and you’re stunned for a moment.

“Um…”

“Be honest, please.”

“I guess I don’t like the idea?” You admit. “Being forced to marry someone you don’t love because duty demands it? Feels archaic. If you love someone, whether they fit into whatever political standards are being demanded or not should not be a reason to get married.”

Thor sits up, shifting a little closer as he leans towards you.

“If you were asked to go along with a political marriage in every way but the heart, could you?” He wonders, much more interested than before.

“What do you mean?” You ask, confused.

“Well, let’s say for example, you and I were to marry. We’d be expected to have children. You’d be bound to do your duties as Queen of Asgard, but you would not be required to love me. Would you be able to fulfill these requirements?”

“You don’t want to do this, do you?” You realize, seeing the eagerness in his eyes. His shoulders slump. “If you don’t want to get married, why don’t you just say something?”

“I must do what I can to ensure the future of my people.” Thor says, sighing deeply.

“I’m guessing there’s someone else you do love that you can’t marry?”

“Not that I can’t but won’t. She isn’t ready for marriage and I don’t feel right making that kind of demand from her when she clearly has other things she’d like to be doing with her life. And…yes, maybe a little bit can’t. A royal marriage would make the most sense. I need a Queen.” Thor says.

You can’t find the words to tell him how fucked up this all is so instead you sit in silence.

“I know this is not ideal. I’ve tried to find other ways of assuring Earth of my commitment to this planet but nothing I’ve suggested is good enough.”

He needs a Queen. This gives you solace. No one is less of a queen than you are.

“I’m sorry.” You finally tell him. “It’s not fair. But I’m sure you’ll be able to find someone who checks all those boxes for you. I hear the Hungarian princess is pretty eager.”

Thor ignores you, stroking his beard as he watches you. “What do you want from a marriage? Let us say it’s many years from now and you have found someone you love beyond all reason. You two decide to get married. What does that look like?”

You’re a little surprised by the question but you humor him and take a moment to really think about it.

The man you picture has no face. There is no one you care enough about to imagine. So…because he’s the only option, you take Thor’s face and give your imaginary husband a face.

“We’d be partners.” You tell him. “Open about everything important. We would respect each other’s individualities. If something is troubling me, I would like to know that I could turn to him and if he had something on his mind, I’d hope that he could turn to me too.

“We’d be honest about even the unpleasant aspects of our life together. If we disagreed, we would talk about it openly. We wouldn’t hide from each other. We’d spend as much time as we could together and always make time for each other.”

You picture Thor sitting at your island in your comfy cottage. He’s so massive that he’d take up so much space. You’d have to squeeze past him, and he’d turn to wrap his arms around your waist as you pass.

He’d trap you there, not letting you move.

“We’d make breakfast together. Cramped up in my little kitchen, it would turn into play.” You smile. “We’d lounge around the house, reading and listening to music. In the evenings we’d move out to the backyard and watch the sun set then watch the stars until I’d fall asleep on his shoulder.”

As if you’re caught doing something you shouldn’t be, you startle yourself out of your daydream and feel your neck heat up.

You’d crossed from rational marriage into sentimental and you’re a little shocked at the detail in which your mind has gone.

You’re also a little startled by the pleasant feeling that picturing Thor in those situations has given you.

For someone who has never had a crush, you’re startled by the butterflies it gives you.

“But I’ve never been into anyone like that before.” You tell him, looking away from his intense gaze. “So, even if that’s what I picture, it’s not like it’s ever gonna happen.”

“It might.” Thor says, sounding as if he might be trying to comfort you.

“It won’t.” You assure him. “I hope your girl changes her mind.”

There’s a bitter ache in your chest as you say it, and you’re certain it’s only there because of the little fantasy you just allowed yourself to have. You should have picture someone else.

“I hope they relax on the royal blood thing and let you marry someone you love instead.” You hope.

“You say that as if you already know that I won’t pick you.” Thor observes.

You smile wide, laughing even as you bite your lip. “Well, I’m nothing like the girls you’ve met with. I don’t have endless amounts of money. I don’t have a prestigious education or extensive family. I don’t know anything about being royalty. The others have been doing it their entire lives. I’m the least likely candidate. I don’t fit the requirements, except for the bloodline thing.

“I only agreed to meet with you because I knew that the likelihood of you picking me was almost non-existent.”

“Ouch.” Thor says.

“No!” You rush to say. “You’re very…I mean, you’re kind from what I can tell and honorable. You’ve saved Earth a couple times and you’re a little self-centered but only in a superficial way that doesn’t change the fact that you’re a good man.

“I honestly don’t know why your girl won’t marry you but I’m not right for this.” You nod. “I wouldn’t make a good Queen for you.”

Thor nods slowly, thinking for a minute before he straightens up and turns to rise, slapping his hands on his knees before he moves back towards the table of fruit and beer.

“You’re probably right.” He agrees, and for some reason, you’re disappointed.

Not so much that he isn’t picking you, but rather that he sees you aren’t enough. You’re lacking in some way. Which you already knew but…knowing he thinks that makes you feel a little lousy despite that being something you wanted.

“I suppose I’ll just have to pick someone more suitable. Someone who knows better about ruling a people. All the same, thank you for coming.” Thor says, dismissing you.

He picks up his stein again and turns to look at you as you rise.

“It was a pleasure to meet you.”

You nod, “Likewise.”

After a moment of hesitation, you give him a wave and move for the doors, trembling hands reaching out to yank the doors open and make your escape.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been weeks since you met with Thor and you’ve completely forgotten the whole thing. Life has gone back to normal and even though you now know that you’re from royal stock, nothing, as you expected, has changed.

The only plus that has risen from this whole situation is that you can now picture marriage a little better, however inexperienced and cliché it might be, you can make something up now.

Your little fling with the idea of Thor had given you fuel to slip a little romance into your writing and your fingers are flying across the keyboard of your laptop as you type up a new and promising mystery about a set of lovers and the body they discover in the attic of their new home.

You hate to be interrupted during a writing session, but you must have forgotten that about yourself because your phone starts to ring.

Normally you mute it before you even sit down to write.

With a growl you reach over and take a quick look at the number.

David flashes on your screen and quickly you swipe to answer.

“Hey, can I call you back in like an hour? I’m in the middle of a chapter and I’m on a roll.” You plead, fingers still flying across the keys.

“Y/N, Thor chose you.” David’s voice says and your fingers freeze.

There’s a pounding in your chest and your head is full of white fuzz. Your legs are numb, and your stomach is swirling with both flutters and nausea.

You can’t have heard that right.

“What?” You ask, voice shaky.

“Thor. He chose you. I just got off the phone with Brunnhilde and she wanted to let me know so that I could call you and let you know that she’ll be by tomorrow to pick you up.”

This can’t be happening.

“She said to pack only what you absolutely need. Everything else will be provided for you.”

“David…I…I can refuse, right? I don’t have to marry him.” You plead desperately.

“Y/N…” David sighs. “You agreed to this before you went to see him. I’m afraid the time to back out has come and gone.”

“But I can just not do it.” You argue. “They can’t force me to do it.”

“The government will seize your assets if you refuse.” David explains. “They want this done. I’m sorry, Y/N. There’s no backing out of this now.”

“But…But he loves someone else.” You tell him and even though your mind knows that this should be the last thing to concern you, it should not be the first reason you can think of why marrying Thor is a bad idea, it is.

As your eyes focus on the little blinking line of your word doc, your heart gives a painful ache knowing that your husband will be loving someone else.

[afriendlyblackhottie]

Alone Together

Summary: After an awful breakup you were expecting to spend Christmas alone. You and Steve end up spending it together.

Pairings: tattoo artist!Steve Rogers x Sam Wilson sister!reader. Abusive ex boyfriend!Brock Rumlow x reader

Warning: mentions of abusive relationship, smut, swearing, daddy kink, squirting, creampie, unprotected sex

Tagging: @titty-teetee @blackmissfrizzle @olyvoyl @liquorlaughslove @harrysthiccthighss @mariahthelioness29 @whiskey-cokenfanfic @olyvoyl @hqneyyincc @queenoftheworldisdead @iam-laiya @donutloverxo @slytherinandoutasgard @zaddychris @brattycherubwrites @love-more122

(A/N: yay I made it! Merry Christmas guys! Reblog always 💜 ✌🏾)

——————————————————————————

Okay yeah so it was stupid. You should have known better when you’d done it. Well, you did you just... well you don’t really know what you were thinking.

Red flags just look like flags when you’re wearing rose colored glasses, yeah fuck off you stole that from Bojack. So when you were with your ex and doing all this dumb just you thought would make him happy it ended up being kind of awful in the end.

When they finally came off you noticed the things you dealt with. Scared to piss him off so you started treating okay times like they were really good. All the stupid things he had you do to prove yourself.

You were paying for this one right now. Right in another parlor. Covering up that mistake with something you actually liked. Not that most people could see it because it was on your underboob. Said he wanted it to be this hidden thing all for him that no one else was allowed to see.

The first time he asked you’d laughed and said no thinking it was a joke. The second time you it happened you tried to be a little more firm. Except that just meant you couldn’t prove your love for him. That you were devoted. That he’d get a tattoo for you on his arm that he never had time to get for some reason.

It was so fucking dumb you know. The cursive Brock tattooed right under your boob. You could see it every time you took your shirt off and it really bothered you. It always had, but you were trying to convince yourself that you loved him before. Now you looked at it and saw the new of a person you wished you’d never even met.

Steve was your older brother’s best friend. He ran this super popular tattoo shop. They’d met in the military and the friendship just stuck. It’s kind of why you ended up moving to New York. You were kind of the outcast of the family, but Sam never treated you any different. You were his baby sister.

So after a few weeks you asked him if he could cover it up. Except his only available day was Christmas Eve. You didn’t go home anyway and Sam was going to meet his girlfriend’s parents this year. Not that you weren’t invited, but you just wanted this thing covered up. Maybe that would make you forget.

You winced as the needle dug into your skin. Not like it wasn’t worth the pain. “Hey, relax, okay,” he said, softly rubbing your arm. He’d been so much help since the breakup. It was funny. Brock hated him. Was always ranting about what an asshole he is. You could tell he didn’t like your brother either. You really didn’t know what but you knew it was something over their friend Bucky or whatever.

Yeah it was a whole thing. Not that you really knew the details.

Normally you’d spend the holidays with his family. Though a little uncomfortable it was nice being with him. So this was your first year in three that you were alone. Hanging with Steve was nice.

“I’m fine,” you were trying to keep a brave face.

He was almost done. Just had to finish up the shading. Honestly you’d been expecting him being that close to you to feel weird, but it was actually nice. It’d just be nice if you didn’t date another tattoo artist.

Yeah Brock also tattooed. He’d met Steve because they’d worked at the same shop once. You remember how Brock was seething when he found out that Steve had opened his own.

You wish you could go back in time and tell Leila to never go into that damn shop. To never ask you to go with her because she was nervous for her first tattoo. Somehow it ended up with Brock promising you a discount if you let him tattoo you if you gave him your number. Being a cliche you got a butterfly on your shoulder.

Somehow it didn’t bother you as much. Maybe because it didn’t look like anything resembling him.

“You sure? We can take a break,” he offered.

You shook your head. “No. I’m okay.” You chuckled with a smile.

He chuckled before clicking his tongue. “Alright. Tell me if you want me to stop.”

“How’s your mom’s trip?” You asked. His mother had decided to vacation to Hawaii with his step-dad. Which is also why he was here. Not that he couldn’t have went with Nat and Bucky to his parent’s house. Except last time he’d done that, he ended up having to sleep next to Bucky’s incredibly touchy aunt. He was better off spending it alone.

“She’s great. Talked to her this morning.” He chuckled, “apparently she’s bringing me back a Hawaiian shirt.”

“You could pull it off.” You replied trying not to laugh too much.

“You think so?” He asked.

“Yeah just keep it unbuttoned and don’t wear a shirt under.”

He stopped to laugh. “What’s that supposed to mean.”

“I dunno. Just doing a service for the girls,” you said. “Don’t act like you don’t know that you’re cute.”

He licked his lips, narrowing his eyes. “Why Miss. Wilson, you’re not flirting with me are you?”

You laughed and shook your head. “No. Just... stop. You know you’re hot.”

His jaw dropped as he grin. “Now you think I’m hot?”

You sighed dramatically. “Look, Steve. I’m just joking.”

He went back to work with this kind of goofy look on his face. You couldn’t deny it. Steve is hot. Anyone with eyes could see that. Your eyes traced along his tattooed forearms. The sleeves of his flannel pushed up to elbows. Until you were distracted by his broad shoulders.

Your mind finally started to relax. Kind of enjoying the buzzing of the gun. You kind of missed that sound you loved going to the shop with a Brock while he worked.

Your only days off were weekends and since he usually had shit to do on those days, you’d be there while he worked. Sometimes even helping out when their secretary was out.

“And, done,” he said taking a deep breath and smiling down at his work before turning off the machine. “How you feelin?’” He grabbed your hand to help you to your feet.

“Well, a little sore, but good.”

You turned to look at it. Smiling at the flowers that were there now. “It’s beautiful,” you said, looking at Steve before throwing your arms around his neck. “Thank you so much.”

“Hey,” he pulled away to rub your arms, “I got you.”

He was so close, eyes trained on your lips. So you started wondering maybe this was why Brock hated Steve. Saw how magnetic he was that he could definitely pull you in.

That couldn’t have been it, though. Brock never saw you with him alone. His dislike went much deeper than you. Today had kind of added insult to injury. Not only did you cover up that thing, but he was the one to do it. It’d be a slap in the face.

Maybe that’s why you did it. Except you’d always liked Steve’s work. You’d seen so many pieces he did or sketches he made and had wanted him to work on you for the longest. Maybe next time it would be something you didn’t need to cover up.

Your phone went off and you groaned softly pulling away. “Hey, Sam,” you greeted your brother. Of course it had to be him of all people.

Looking back over at his best friend who was cleaning up the station now. It was probably a good thing because your heart had started to thump in your chest. You didn’t need that.

You raised your shirt up so you could see it finally. “Just calling to check up on you. Steve’s lazy ass taking a break? I don’t hear buzzing in the back.”

“We just finished actually.” You laughed.

“How’d it come out?”

“Good,” you answered. “Tell Maya I said hi.”

You finished talking to Sam before finally hanging up. When you finally looked at your new tattoo, a smile grew on your face. It looked so much better than before. “Like it?” Steve asked.

“I love it,” you replied. You grabbed your bag so you could pay him.

“Um, excuse me, Miss,” he said. “Your money is no good here.”

“What? I’m not going to have you do all this work and not pay you, Stevie.”

He sighed. “Think of it as a Christmas present.”

You rolled your eyes still taking your money out. “I can’t-“

“I’m not taking it,” he pressed.

“Fine at least let me give you a tip.”

“I’m not taking that either.” He smirked.

You rolled your eyes. For such a nice boy he was always so stubborn. “Fine. Then... dinner. I’ll make dinner. If we’re spending Christmas alone then it might be fun to spend it together.”

He smiled softly. “Yeah... that sounds nice.”

“Great.” You looked into his eyes again. They were like the prettiest blue ever. Especially with those little specks of green.

After a trip to the store, he escorted you back to the apartment you shared with your brother. You could have moved out, but you were kind of afraid to live alone. That’s why Sam had been a little surprised that you’d declined the invitation to go with him. It was nice to have Steve there.

You’d decorated the apartment even though you hadn’t planned to do anything. You still wanted to be a little festive. Maybe it would pull you into a better mood. It worked a little.

You quickly started on dinner. Steve helped by cutting up vegetables. He’d taken off his sweater letting his incredibly muscular tattooed arms taunt you. Okay so yeah you had a little bit of a crush on him. Like a lot of other women, you just liked to look.

“Thanks for dinner,” Steve said, taking a sip of his wine. “I don’t get home cooked meals a lot.”

“Can’t cook?” You asked with a smirk.

“Yeah I’m pretty hopeless at it.” He shrugged.

“So do you want to watch Christmas movies after this?” You asked.

He laughed. “Yeah that’d be nice.”

The night was going by kind of quick as you settled down to watch A Christmas Story. You were a little tipsy honestly, but you and Steve were sharing a fluffy blanket. Which meant he was close.

You’d carefully showered so you didn’t get your tattoo wet and changed into a sweater shirt and s pair of matching shorts. Getting all bundled up so you could curl up beside him. “You look so warm.” He chuckled as he got a little closer.

“Do you need an extra blanket?” You asked.

“No I’m okay,” he replied.

“Can I ask you something?” You asked because the thought had crossed your mind again. This time you’d finally worked up the nerve to ask.

“Why don’t you and Brock like each other?” You asked.

He sighed. “You’re not the first person I’ve had to save from him. He and Bucky used to be close and I noticed him kind of spiraling. Rumlow was pumping him full of all of these drugs and I dunno I didn’t want to lose my friend.”

Your stomach started to turn. This was the first time you’d ever heard of any of this. “Why didn’t any of you tell me?”

“I wanted to, but Sam said we needed to let you make your own mistakes. To not push you away. There were so many times that I thought about... look I just know that I’m never letting him hurt you again. Okay?”

You nodded, biting your lip. This glazed over look in your eyes. Steve noticed and pulled you closer pretty much placing you in his lap.

“Hey, it’s okay, Honey.” He rubbed your back. Trying to at least comfort you a little.

“No I’m fine,” you replied leaning into him. The soft fabric of his jeans rubbed against your bare legs. It was nice to have him comfort you like this. “You know I think the worst thing to me is that and I’m sorry if this is too much information, but he’d use Sam against me. Say that if I didn’t do what he wanted he’d tell Sam about the things we did in bed.”

Steve sighed. “You know he wouldn’t have cared.”

“I know, but it still felt embarrassing. He knew how secretive I was about it. None of my friends even know the kind of things I’m into.” You took a deep breath, trying to relax because you felt way more tense than you wanted to.

He chuckled. Trying to lighten the mood. “I get it. I used to be the same way until my last girlfriend put it all out there when we broke up.”

You laughed. “Oh yeah I remember that.”

“Yeah. She was something else.” He tossed his head back as he laughed. “One night she came to the shop, talking about how she’d let me tie her up one more time.”

“Brock used to say stuff like ‘come on, Babygirl, do what Daddy says or else I’ll tell your brother what you’re up to.’ It used to grate on my nerves.”

“God. What a fucking asshole,” he said, hoping you didn’t notice when he felt himself get suddenly hard at hearing you say that.

“Yeah, but I’m so glad this thing is covered.”

“Yeah. Glad I could help,” he said with smile. “Shit do you mind actually if I take a picture of it? For Instagram.”

You nodded. “Yeah that’s fine.”

He took his phone out of his pocket while you laid down across his lap, rolling your sweatshirt up so that it was exposed. “Perfect,” he said as he snapped the picture the flash making you close your eyes all tight, making you move your hand so you could rub your eye.

Making your entire breast become exposed. “Shit,” you said, pushing it back down as you sat back up. Your eyes connected to his again and that’s when he kissed you.

You didn’t hesitate to do it back. Your mouth moving against his ever so softly. Like the two of you were afraid to really do what you want, but also didn’t want to pull away. Until he finally started to deepen it.

You stroked his beard as he held onto you tightly. You came to straddle his lap as he cupped your ass. He started to lay you back.

Your phone interrupted you, making you jump away. You scrambled to pick it up. “Hello?”

“Hey. Just checking on you,” Sam’s voice came through.

“Oh. I’m fine, Sam.” You took looked over at Steve who closed his eyes and stood up.

“Is Steve with you?”

“Yeah he walked me home,” you said. “Actually I have to go I’m going to shower.”

“Okay. Text me before bed.”

“Okay.”

Steve was gathering up his things to leave by the time you got off your phone. You watched him move around. He shrugged his coat on. “I’m just gonna head out.”

“Yeah...” you pursed your lips.

He licked his lips. “I, um, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me... I-“

“No. It’s okay,” you replied taking a deep breath. “I’ll walk you out.”

He nodded. “Okay.”

You watched as he walked away heading towards the elevator. You still couldn’t believe that happened. Lips tingling from the way he kissed you. Apart of you was cursing Sam from ruining your moment.

Another part of you was kind of happy that he did because as much as you hated it, Brock still had this hold over you. It wasn’t that you felt guilty. It was more like you were afraid of what would happen if he found out.

God, you wish he didn’t have this hold on you. You were starting to close the door when Steve came back. This time he didn’t stop himself as he kissed you. Or picked you up, kicking the door shut behind him. Didn’t stop himself as he carried you to your room.

He laid you down on your bed, getting on top of you. You wrapped your legs around his waist. Trying to be as close to him as possible. Fuck he felt so good on top of you.

Scratching at his muscular shoulders. He pulled your top off first. Exposing your tits. His mouth went to them as he tried to avoid your tattoo. He swirled his tongue around your nipple.

You whimpered, biting your lip as you looked down at him. He’d switched to the other one to give it the same treatment. “So fucking beautiful.” He started kissing down your body so he could take off your shorts and panties. He kissed along your thighs, still looking into your eyes as he parted them.

Before he could put his mouth on your pussy, he went back up. Kissing you again. “Is this okay?” He asked resting his forehead to yours.

You nodded, reaching out so you could start undoing the buttons of his flannel. He helped you, pressing his lips to yours again. This time he put his tongue in your mouth.

Kissing him was different than Brock. Steve’s lips seemed to mold with yours better. There was this feeling in the pit of your stomach that felt like it was about to burst, but like you wanted it to. You really shouldn’t be comparing them, but Steve was making you feel so good and you were kicking yourself from having missed out on this as you wasted your time.

He pushed his shirt off his body then undid his pants. Sliding them down his legs along with his underwear. He got back on top for you, kissing your neck. Leaving little nibbles and sucking on your skin like he knew your body already. “Daddy,” you cried out, then sat up when you realized what you said opening your mouth to apologize.

“Oh yeah, Baby. You want me to be your daddy?” He asked, going back between your legs. “Want to be a dirty girl for me only?”

You nodded suddenly feeling drunk off of his words. Never did you think in a million years that Steve would be talking to you like this. He was getting you so wet just from that. He started licking your clit first.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he feasted on you. Pussy juices making a mess on his beard. “Yes,” you gasped out as he started to finger you at the same time.

That same bursting feeling in your stomach was getting intense. You cried out for him as you felt yourself reach your peek. You grabbed his hair, grinding your pussy against his face.

You took a deep breath as you tried to sit up, but he put a hand on your stomach to hold you still. “I’m not done.” He growled. “Hold still while Daddy makes you cum, Honey.”

You nodded bracing yourself as he went back to eating you out. It didn’t take long for him to bring you to another orgasm or another one after that. When he was done he kissed you, making you taste your juices on him.

As you made out again he went back to rubbing your cunt. “I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he said. “Gonna make you cum over and over again. Gonna take care of you.”

“Oh god yes,” you whimpered.

“Fuck I don’t have any condom,” he said, as he’d started to line himself up with your entrance.

“It’s okay,” you said. “I’m on birth control.”

He licked his lips. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I want you so bad, Daddy.”

He grinned as he kissed you softly. “I want to know your safe word first, Honey. Just in case.”

“Strawberry.”

He kissed your forehead, then your nose, and then your lips. He pushed into you as your tongues came into contact. Your tongues carassing against each other.

You stretched around him and you started to understand why he’d spent so much time eating you out. Fuck he was thick. You stretched around him looking into his eyes. “It’s okay,” he whispered into your lips. “I’ve got you.”

“It’s too much!” You cried.

“You can take it, Honey,” he kissed you again. “Be a good girl and take Daddy’s dick.”

He started fucking into you a little harder. You could feel yourself leaking around his dick. He’d really worked you up first even if he was still too damn thick for your pussy.

You scratched his back, biting his shoulder. He was thrusting so deep. You don’t think you’d ever been fucked this deep before. You’d definetly never been stretched open like this.

“Right there! Don’t stop!” You begged as he started fucking into your spot. “I’m fucking cumming!”

“That’s it, Honey. Cum for me.” He groaned because your pussy was so tight. Especially as you came. You were tightening around him and if he wasn’t so determined to give you a few more he would have let go inside of you.

“Oh, fuck, Daddy!” You cried. He didn’t let up. Fucking you through it.

“Nasty girl, squirting for me,” he said getting on his knees so he could watch you.

“Oh god!” You didn’t stop. Your pussy gushing around him. He bent your legs back with his hands on the back of your thighs. Watching his cock all slick anytime he’d pull out only to push back into you.

He chuckled as it happened again. Your eyes all clouded over as you came again just like that last time. More juices squirting out of you.

“Please,” you said, but didn’t know why.

“What do you want me to do, Baby?” He asked.

You couldn’t say anything back because you were to far gone. Thoughts had officially left your head. All you knew was him and the he was fucking you so damn good. Still pressing into your spot.

“Fuck you’re gonna make me cum,” he hissed, getting back on top of you with his bicep wrapped around your thigh so he could keep you spread open. He kissed you again this time deeper. Fucking your mouth with his tongue.

You moaned into him and thrusts became to falter as he started to pump you full of his cum. He thrusted into you deep as he gave you every bit of it. Wanting to completely fill you up with him.

He laid on top of you trying to catch his breath. You were panting underneath him. Not even wanting him to move because he was so warm. You buried your head into his neck.

It took you a minute to come down from your highs. He smiled down at you, kissing you softly. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“You okay? I didn’t hurt you did I?”

You shook your head, already closing your eyes because you were so comfortable like this. “I’m great.”

He chuckled. “That’s what I like to hear.”

You smiled lazily as he finally rolled off of you. He brought you close to him, kissing your nose again. “Stay with me.”

“There’s literally no other place I’d rather be,” he said.

You’d spent all night messing around. Taking little cat naps in between. Right now he had you on your stomach as he fucked you from behind. You never expected to spend your holiday with him, but now you couldn’t picture spending it with anyone else.

You hadn’t even thought about your ex and the meltdown he’d have if he knew about this. It was nice feeling so free. Especially as Steve’s tattooed arms wrapped around you from behind.

Hints of daylight had started to break through the slits of your curtain. He chuckled. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered into your ear as he didn’t even let up the way he was fucking into you.

“Merry Christmas, Daddy,” you whimpered.

He kissed the back of your shoulder. “Gonna spend Christmas letting me make you my girl?”

You nodded trying to peek up at him over your shoulder with a smile. “Your girl?”

“After this I’m not letting you go,” he said, kissing your cheek from behind. “We might need to make this a tradition.”

“I like the sound of that.”

[thetravelerwrites]

Birch (Centaur)

Rating: Mature Relationship: Female Human/Male Centaur Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Boyfriend, Centaur, Reader Insert Content Warnings: Communication Disorder, Social Communication Disorder, Anxiety, Autism, Autistic Reader, Semi-Verbal Autism, Semi-Verbal Reader, Overbearing Mother, Verbal Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Ableism Series: Shelter Forest Words: 4758

Commissioned by an anonymous party, Birch finally gets his own story! The reader, who has a communication disorder, meets and somehow befriends a beautiful centaur named Birch, who lives in the woods with his family and is known throughout the town as being a bit of a playboy and a flirt. When he realizes how poorly the reader is treated by her mother, he immediately tries to rescue her. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

You first saw him when you were thirteen year old. You and your mother came to Coleville to beg for work after your father had kicked you both out of the house for another woman. You and your mother worked in the laundry and kitchen of the town’s most popular tavern, washing bed sheets and tableware, so you hadn’t really had the chance to meet him when he came into town to trade. You were only ever able to watch him from a distance

He was massive, friendly, and beautiful. His horse body was the size and color of a buckskin Andalusian, with a pale tan body fur and black socks. His skin was suntanned from working in the fields of his home farm and he always wore a simply-made tunic. His hair was short and black, and his tail was long and black, but his eyes were a bright, clear blue. He smiled easily and seemed to get along with everyone. You fell in love with him as soon as you laid eyes on him.

Well, no, you knew even then that it wasn’t love, it was just fascination and infatuation, but you couldn’t help yourself. You were overjoyed every time you saw him. Not that he’d ever notice you. You were just a plain, poor, chubby laundress with red, chapped hands and a future of working in a tavern for the rest of your life. Why would he even glance at you?

You wouldn’t be able to speak to him, even if he did. You were terribly shy and timid. You’d always been that way and couldn’t help it. Talking to people, looking them in the eye, facing confrontation, it all made you terrified and shaky. You barely spoke to anyone who wasn’t your parents, although you really didn’t speak to them that much, either. You were sure the most used word in your vocabulary was sorry.

When you were younger, your parents had hoped you’d grow out of it, but you never did. Once you hit puberty and was still unable to speak, your mother began to despair of you, pushing you to talk and berating you when you couldn’t, which only made you withdraw more. You couldn’t blame her for being exasperated with you; you were just as frustrated with yourself as she was. She never said it, but you knew she blamed you for your father rejecting you both.

Even though Birch usually came alone, you were sure he must already be married or have a lover, though he was openly flirtatious. You knew he’d had a few girls in town on occasion, having overheard them bragging about their nights with him, though they all seemed to be one-night trysts or affairs that didn’t last long. Perhaps he wasn’t even interested in settling down with anyone and was the playboy type. He was gorgeous enough for it.

Once or twice, he came to town with his family members or to visit family members who had settled here, like his brother Cetzu, the lizardfolk man running the orphanage with his wife. They were all a strange lot: some were human, most were not. You only ever saw one other centaur, and he looked nothing like Birch; he was a younger, smaller piebald named Yew with black skin, white hair, and pale eyes. You’d heard rumors that there was a mixed family in the woods, living on a farm, and that they were all sorts, but it didn’t really seem real to you until you saw them all together.

He’d come to town one day to buy seeds and supplies and came into the tavern for a drink. For centaurs, alcohol was basically food to them, so they drank heavily and often. A lot of centaurs you’d known got pretty rowdy, but Birch was always mindful. He held his ale well and knew when to stop before getting fully inebriated, careful not to make an ass of himself. He was considerate. You liked that about him.

You were working in the kitchens at the time when he arrived, and he sat at one of the tables designed for four-legged folk. It was a long table with no chairs or benches, but flat cushions instead. He folded his legs under him and flagged the waitress, smiling his dazzling smile, and ordered ale and some roasted vegetables. You were neglecting your work, but even if it was just a few seconds, you wanted to commit his image to memory as often as you could.

“Oi!” The waitress, Cathy, hissed as she came toward the door of the kitchen to put in Birch’s order. “What are you doing?!”

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” You said, barely audibly.

“Go take him his ale,” She said. “We’re understaffed. If you’re going to be in the way, the least you can do is be useful.”

“I…!" You protested, but she pushed past you into the kitchen to yell at the cook. With you heart in your throat, you rushed to fill a clean tankard and skittered it over, setting it down on the table in front of him without looking at him.

“Ah, that was fast,” Birch said, his voice deep, rich, and wonderful to the ear. “You’re a lovely little thing. Are you new, sweet pea? I haven’t seen you in the tavern before.”

You looked down at the ground and didn’t answer. You weren’t sure what to do, whether to stay and try to be friendly, or retreat back to the kitchen, so you were frozen there with indecision, looking at the floor.

“Hey now, don’t be shy, love. I don’t bite,” He said, you assumed in an attempt to be flirty, reaching for your hand. You snatched your hand away impulsively and ran back to the kitchen.

Your heart was racing and your mind reeling. Why did I do that? You thought, covering your face with your hands. He probably thinks I’m crazy or a complete shrew! I should never leave the back rooms again and just stick to washing dishes.

After a few moments, though, your mother pulled you away from washing by the arm.

“What did you do?” She asked angrily. “One of the customers is asking for you!”

You panicked. “I… I just… I brought him his drink…” You whispered in terror.

“Come on,” She gripped your arm and pulled you back out into the tavern common room, where Birch was still sitting. He looked at you with a frown. Oh god, he looks annoyed, you thought nervously.

“Miss,” He said, and you stared at your feet, unable to look up. “I think I may have frightened or upset you. I’m sorry, I sometimes forget that not everyone is receptive to my personality or sense of humor.”

You were completely unable to speak and kept your head down, your shoulders hunched.

“Say something!” Your mother hissed at you, and you could only shrink into yourself further. “I’m sorry, sir,” Your mother said in exasperation. “My daughter is as timid as a field mouse. She can’t speak to other people and she never looks people in the eye. She can barely even speak to me. She’s always been like this.”

“Oh,” He said, sounding concerned. “Is she unwell?”

“Probably,” Your mother replied in annoyance, and you pulled away even further. “Though the doctors can’t tell us what’s wrong with her. She usually stays in the kitchen and laundry away from the customers. I don’t know what possessed her to come out here and bother you.”

“C… Ca…” You stuttered, struggling to speak in your defense, looking back toward the kitchen, where Cathy was hovering by the door.

“Oh, did Cathy ask you to bring me my drink?” He asked kindly.

You nodded fervently.

“I understand. I’m sorry that she put you in an uncomfortable situation, and I apologize for making it worse.”

Your mother sighed wearily. “Sir, don’t apologize to her. It’s not your fault that she can’t function like a normal adult.”

That hurt. You were on the verge of tears and hugged your arms around yourself, desperately wanting to escape back to the kitchen.

“Even so,” He said, his voice cold, but softened when he addressed you. “I’m very sorry, miss.”

You nodded once and shuffled quickly back to the kitchen, unable to keep the tears from falling. Your mother rejoined you a few minutes later.

“You could have at least apologized to him,” He said, taking the plates as you washed them to rinse them off and put them in the rack. “Why do you have to embarrass me like that? How hard is it to say ‘thank you’ or ‘I’m sorry’?” She sighed sharply and wiped her hands. “Don’t you dare get us fired.” And she walked off, leaving you weeping into the dishwater.

Cathy heard the entire thing and came over sheepishly.

“Hey… I’m sorry I got you in trouble with your ma,” She said. “I forgot about the speaking thing. I was just in a rush and I didn’t think.”

You shook your head. Cathy was the one person who you might call a friend. She was a little brusque and had a short fuse, but she was one of the few who didn’t make fun of your stuttering and silence or look down their nose at you.

“Listen, Birch is a really nice guy. He plays around and has his fun with the girls, but he’s never hurt anyone on purpose. He wasn’t trying to make fun of you or make you feel bad.”

You nodded shortly. You knew that. He was being friendly; that’s just how he talked to people. But being humiliated in front of him was a torture unlike anything you’d felt before, and it hurt.

The next day, you were feeding the chickens in the coop outside of the tavern when you looked up and saw him exiting the tavern. He noticed you right away, and you turned immediately and tried to flee.

“Hey, wait!” He called. “Wait, please!”

You stood with your back to him but you stayed put. You heard him trotting up to you, his hoof-beats heavy.

“Hey, listen, I wanted to apologize again,” He said. “To just you this time. I don’t know what your mother’s problem is, but what she said… that was uncalled for. You didn’t deserve that.”

You turned to face him but you didn’t look up, focusing instead on his large hooves. You shook your head. No, he was wrong. You did deserve it.

“You can’t help how you are,” He said. “It’s not your fault. I have a little brother who has trouble talking to people, too. It’s the exact opposite of your problem; he says exactly what’s on his mind with no filter. He can’t control it and it embarrasses him sometimes. It’s not the same, I know, but I understand that it can be hard.”

He was so nice. You were able to lift your head a little, but you still couldn’t look him in the face.

“My name is Birch,” He said. “What’s yours?”

You opened your mouth but nothing came out, so you shut it again.

“Hmm,” He hummed. “Can you write?”

You shook your head.

“Um… sign language?”

You answered no again.

“I see,” He said, sighing. “I… I’ll be honest… I don’t want to leave you here with that mother of yours. I’m not sure what kind of relationship you have with her, but the way she talks to you…” He pawed the ground in annoyance. “It bothers me. Does she do that a lot? Make fun of you in front of other people?”

You shrugged, embarrassed.

He sidestepped in an anxious way and swished his tail. “I have to go back home later today,” He said. “Are… are you going to be okay?”

You nodded.

“Are you sure?”

Another nod.

“Well… alright,” He said. “Look, um… if you ever need to… you know… leave this place, talk to Cathy. She knows where my family’s farm is. She can help you get there. If you need to.”

You nodded again, and he turned to leave, but an unfamiliar impulse compelled you to rush forward and take hold of the hem of his tunic. He stopped and looked at you, though he could only see the top of your head.

“Th…” You gulped, your throat dry, your heart beating in your throat. “Tha… ank…you…” You managed to choke out. “H… Haz…zel…”

“You’re name is Hazel?” He asked, a smile in his voice.

You nodded emphatically.

You felt him put a hand on top of your head and and sort of rubbed his fingers against your scalp. It felt nice, even though you weren’t used to physical touch. Your mother wasn’t exactly the affectionate sort.

“You take care, okay?” He said, taking his hand back. “I’ll be back in a few days. I look forward to seeing you again.”

That evening, you were in the room you shared with your mother as she brushed her hair for bed when she mentioned nonchalantly, “I saw you with that centaur man today. What did he say to you?”

“...he… nothing…” You said vaguely.

“Then why did he touch you? And why were you touching him?” She asked, her voice flat.

“I…” You gulped. “I… don’t know…” You said truthfully.

“Oh, really? You don’t know? You don’t know why a man like him would touch you? You know his reputation in this town. He’s trying to take advantage of you because you're simple.”

“He was… just… being nice…” You said softly.

Your mother snorted. “Men aren’t nice without a reason. I thought you’d know that by now.” She threw down her hairbrush onto the night table and lay down in your shared bed. “You’re not going to have anything to do with him from now on, do you understand? It shouldn’t be difficult for you to manage that, should it?”

You didn’t say anything, just sat at the table and stared into the fire.

“It’s for your own good,” She said, facing away from you. “I know I’m strict with you, but… I don’t want you to get hurt.”

You have no problem with me getting hurt when you’re the one doing it, you thought to yourself, but you couldn’t say it. You knew she was right, though. He was a flirt and a bit of a libertine, and you thought that perhaps he was only being nice to you because he saw you as low hanging fruit. It hurt to think of him that way, but it was the only thing that made sense.

He did return in a few days, an older woman riding on his back. She was lovely, even at her age, and was wearing trousers and a practical shirt, but no bodice or ladies coat. Her brown hair was caught back in a tight braid, a few strands of grey weaved in and out.

You saw them arrive from the window of your room as you were getting ready for the day. He was as handsome as always, and you watched him wistfully. As if he could sense you, he looked up and saw you at the window. He smiled at you and waved. Remembering what your mother said, you were unable to smile back and walked away from the window without acknowledging him. You hoped he wouldn’t be too angry at you.

Before you could start work in the laundry, Cathy called you out.

“Birch and his mother are here,” She said, keeping her voice down so that your mother wouldn’t hear. “They want to see you.”

“I cant…” You said in your normal whisper. “Mama will be angry…”

“Don’t worry about your ma right now,” Cathy said dismissively. “You don’t deserve the shit she gives you, you’re just too shy to tell her off. Just go see what they want. Maybe it’s a chance to get out from under her thumb.”

You had to admit, you did wish for that. You loved your mother, and she loved you in her own way, but you knew she resented you and it was just… exhausting, dealing with her reproachfulness and cutting words every day. You were just too scared to leave on your own.

You thought long and hard about it, looking around to see if your mother was anywhere near. When you didn’t see her, you looked up at Cathy, looking just past her behind her ear instead of at her face, and nodded. She took you by the hand and led you out to the dining area. Birch and his mother were sitting at the four-legged table, with his mother having dragged over a chair to sit with him comfortably.

“Oh, good, there you are,” Birch said. “When you didn’t react this morning, I was worried something had happened. Mama, this is the young woman I was telling you about.”

He told his mother about you? Why?

“I see, I see,” The older woman said. “My name is Ryel, I’m Birch’s mother. Your name is Hazel, right?”

You nodded, unable to look up.

“Goodness, you are rather shy, aren’t you, dear?” She said sympathetically. You chewed your lip, unable to respond. “My son tells me you’re illiterate, is that correct?”

You nodded.

“I imagine that makes communicating with other people very difficult,” She said.

You nodded again.

“So, how about this?” She said, leaning forward. “Why don’t you come to the farm with me for the summer? I’ll teach you how to read and write, and in exchange, you help me out around the farm. How does that sound?”

For the first time in your life, you were surprised into looking someone in the face. She was smiling warmly at you

“I’m getting older and I could use an assistant. My children all have their own work and families to look after and I’d feel as if I were taking advantage of them if I expected them to follow me around and help me all day.”

“Mama, you know we’d do it happily,” Birch said.

“I know that,” She said, hushing him. “Even still, I’d prefer to hire someone for the task, and if I can help them at the same time, why shouldn’t I?” She leaned forward. “What do you say, dear?”

This is exactly what you wanted. A job that was away from your mom. This was your chance. You opened your mouth, as if to answer, when you heard a sharp voice behind you.

“Hazel!” Your mother said, irate, and stalked out of the kitchen toward you, grabbing you by the arm. “Stop bothering these people! Get back to the laundry.”

Birch’s back leg kicked slightly in irritation, thumping the wood of the floor, but Ryel kept her composure.

“She’s not bothering us in the least, madam,” She said calmly. “I’ve actually come here to offer her a job.”

Your mother scoffed. “A job? Doing what?”

“As my assistant,” Ryel said. “I’m a jack of all trades type, you might say, and I’m willing to take her on in exchange for room and board, plus an education.”

“You’re wasting your time,” Your mother said, her grip rather strong on your arm. “My daughter is not capable of making her own decisions.”

“How old is your daughter?” Ryel asked.

“She’s nineteen,” Your mother replied. “But I’m afraid she’s a bit slow. Trying to teach her wouldn’t benefit either of you.”

You frowned, upset. That wasn’t true, you weren’t slow. In fact, you thought you learned rather quickly, you’d just hadn’t had the chance to learn very many new things.

“Be that as it may,” Ryel replied, her voice still even. “Your daughter is an adult and has the right to choose what she wants.”

“Nonsense,” Your mother said. “Besides, even if I allowed this, I don’t want her anywhere near him.” She jerked her chin toward Birch.

Birch bristled. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I know what kind of man you are,” She hissed. “How many lovers you’ve had in just this town alone? How many broken hearts have you left in your wake? I know you have ulterior motives for wanting to take her from here, and I won’t stand for it. She’s simpleminded and vulnerable, and I won’t let you dishonor her and return her to me used and broken.”

“Stop talking like she can’t hear every vile thing you say about her!” Birch shouted, slamming his fist into the table, making you jump. “I would never do something so shameful! You don’t know anything about me! ”

“Son, calm down,” Ryel said, putting her hand on his. “My son is a grown man of twenty-eight and has desires, true, but I’ve been to this town quite often and I haven’t found any such string of broken hearts, as you call it. Many sighing and wistful girls who long for his company, sure, but not one of them has come to me with tears in her eyes claiming he lied or misled her. He’s open and forthright about his intentions, and I respect his decisions. You should do the same for your child.”

“Don’t talk to me about my child if you can’t even control your own,” Your mother said venomously. “Hazel, let’s go.”

She tried to lead you away, but you refused to move. There were hurt and anxious tears in your eyes and you couldn’t look at anyone, but you refused to let her pull you away.

“Hazel!” She gripped your arm and yanked you painfully, and you wrenched your arm from her grasp, shaking your head.

“It seems like she’s made her choice,” Ryel said. “The least you can do as her mother is respect her wishes.”

“Be quiet!” Your mother said. “Leave us alone!” She grabbed your hands and started to pull you back to the kitchen. Birch got to his feet.

“Let her go,” He said, his voice a low growl, knocking her hands away from you. He stood between you and your mother. You dared to reach out and place a hand on the fur of his back to steady yourself.

“What’s going on here?” The bartender, Brian, asked. He also owned the tavern and knew about your condition. He didn’t speak to you much, but he also didn’t tease you either. You could handle understanding silence a lot better than persistent expectation to interact. “Are you alright, Hazel?”

You were shaking and crying, so you could only shake your head.

“These people won’t leave us alone,” You mother said. “I’d like them to leave.”

“Now, Rita, these people are good customers and friends of mine. I’m going to need more of a reason than ‘they’re bothering me’ to kick them out.”

“We simply offered young Hazel here a job on the farm,” Ryel said patiently. “I’m afraid her mother is interfering with her decision.”

“Is that true, Hazel?” Brian asked. “Would you like to take up this job?”

Trembling, you nodded.

“Well, then, that settles it, doesn’t it?” Brian said. “These are good folks, Hazel, they’ll take care of you.”

“Like hell they will,” You mother retorted. “She can’t make decisions like this. She doesn't understand.”

Brian sighed. “Rita, your girl’s not stupid, and it’s high time you stopped treating her like she is.”

Your mother looked like she’d been slapped in the face. You looked up at Brian in shock. He smiled kindly at you.

“Why don’t you go up and pack your things while your mother and I have a little chat, eh, dear?” He said.

You attempted to smile at him, though you worried it looked a little like you had indigestion, and went to pack. You took a few minutes to sit on the bed and breathe, clutching your chest, feeling a panic attack poking at your brain. You couldn’t believe it. You were really leaving.

There was a knock on your door and Ryel poked her head in.

“Are you alright, dear? That was quite the fuss,” She said.

You dried your face and nodded, getting up to start putting clothes in a bag.

“I sent Birch outside. He was getting rather angry, and I didn’t want him smashing any of Brian’s furniture.”

You looked out the window. Birch was standing in the courtyard with his arms crossed, stamping the ground and stepping constantly, as if he couldn’t stand still. His brow was furrowed, his jaw was working, and his tail was swishing back and forth without stopping.

“He’s worried for you, dear,” She said, following your gaze. “One thing our entire family has in common is that we don’t like seeing people mistreated. You’re mother may have her reasons for acting as she does, and perhaps it is out of some misplaced notion of love, but there’s no doubt in my mind at all that she mistreats you. You can’t help the way you are, and no amount of her cruel words are going to fix that. In fact, I’m more than certain it makes it worse.”

You sighed sadly in agreement. As you stood there, Birch looked up at your window. He smiled, a little sadder than before, and waved up at you. This time, you raised a hand and waved back.

The door opened and your mother walked in, glaring at Ryel.

“I’d like to speak to my daughter alone, if you please,” She said, her voice low and hostile.

Ryel looked at you questioningly, and you nodded. “I’ll be right outside if you need me,” She said, and walked out, closing the door behind her.

Your mother just stared at you with her arms crossed, shaking her head slightly. You looked down and away.

“I guess I should just be glad you won’t be around to humiliate me anymore,” She said, and you shrunk in on yourself. “I don’t like this at all, but it seems I have no say in the matter. You made sure of that, didn’t you?”

You knew she was hurt and was lashing out. She wasn’t exactly sweet and caring on her best days, but she could really cut a person to the quick when she was upset.

“Don’t you have anything to say?” She asked you, and you could hear tears in her voice. “Nothing at all? You can’t muster the courage to apologize to me for that display downstairs? For leaving me without a thought to my feelings? I’ve spent the last seven years protecting you and providing for you after your useless father threw us out, and you do this to me? And you have nothing to say?”

You didn’t say anything. Instead, you walked up to her and put your arms around her waist and lay your head on her shoulder.

“I’ll miss you, Mama,” You said softly.

She started to sob and put her arms around your shoulders. It had been years since she’d last hugged you.

“You’d better start sending me letters as soon as you learn how to,” She said, her voice breaking. “If I don’t hear something from you in a few months, I’m going out there to drag you back, you understand me?”

“Yes, Mama,” You whispered, and took a step back. Picking up your bag, you opened the door and walked out. Ryel was waiting and smiled when she saw you.

“Ready?” She asked.

You nodded.

Back outside, Birch was waiting. He stopped shifting around anxiously when he saw you and his mother exit the tavern.

“Everything okay?” He asked.

“Everything’s just fine,” Ryel said. “We’re ready to go.”

“Would you like to ride on my back?” Birch asked, turning.

You shook your head fervently, mortified.

“Are you sure?” He said. “It’s a long walk back to the farm, over four hours. I can get us there in half the time.”

“She’s feeling shy,” Ryel said. “For centaurs, letting people ride on their back is a special privilege afforded to few. I’ll ride with you.” She grinned at him. “He always makes an exception for his mother.”

He grinned at her in return. “You just assume I do.” But he took out a quilted riding blanket that was rolled up and tied to the bottom of his pack and handed it to her, and she set it on his back. Climbing the steps to the tavern, she vaulted onto his back. She instructed you to do the same. Blushing furiously, with both Ryel and Birch’s help, you were able to scramble on in front of her.

“Let’s go,” He said, and he took off at a trot out of town.

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider becoming a Patron or donating directly to my PayPal!

Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

[deadmandairyland]

Hi! I’m here to bring you yet another Danganronpa tier list: the sexuality tier list, which you can find here.

Now I’m going to be honest here: I don’t really have any LGBT headcanons. It’s just not really something I focus on much when it comes to fandoms. Instead I usually just focus on ships, and as a result from that I tend to present a lot of characters as LGBT in fanfictions and posts I’ve made or reblogged. In other words, a massive chunk of my “headcanons” here are a direct result of shipping (as well as information I’ve picked up from the games themselves). That being said, it was interesting to actually think about this for once, so I’m kinda glad I did the tier list. And it gave me an excuse to bring back the rainbow color scheme I usually put in my tier lists for aesthetic reasons.

The original tier list had Straight at the top, but I moved it to the bottom for two reasons. One, this is Tumblr and that’s not what you’re here for. Two, I gave it a neutral color, and having a gray section next to a white section (i.e. the title of the list) like that looked bad to me. I definitely prefer this setup just on aesthetic alone.

Because this is largely based on ships, I feel it needs to be said that representation does not factor into this chart in any way. I know it probably looks bad that the only character in the Lesbian category is one of my least favorite (though NOT hated or even disliked, I should point out) characters in the main series. That has nothing to do with the fact that she’s a lesbian. She’s just a jerk, and usually not in a way that’s at least entertaining enough for me to like her.

Also keep in mind that this is just the main cast of the main series games. If you were to include characters from the DR3 anime, UDG, or the spin-offs, the Gay, Lesbian, and Ace categories would get more rep, certainly. Think Juzo, Yui, Takemichi, that gay guy with the trumpet, etc.

With that said, let’s go through the list:

Gay

Not gonna lie, one of the reasons why Rantaro is here (and not in Ace) is because of ships. Though I do sometimes ship him with girls, canon suggests he’s not interested in dating girls, and most fans seem to headcanon him as either gay or ace because of this, so I respected that. That being said, I also acknowledge he’s a very popular character in mlm ships, and at the time I was putting this together I hadn’t gotten to Taka yet so the Gay tier was still empty, and Byakuya was already sitting in Ace, so all of that swayed me to putting Rantaro here instead of Ace.

Taka was much easier to place here. He strikes me as a closeted gay man who probably doesn’t even realize he is gay. “Hey, let’s all hang out in the bath, guys! Getting naked is essential to form bonds with your fellow man! No need to be ashamed, it’s tradition!"

Lesbian

Again, ships. I only ship Hiyoko with one other character, and as soon as I say that you already know who she is.

Bisexual (Male Preference)

Akane is mostly here to account for any wlw ships I may have of her (e.g. Hina, Sonia maybe). Obviously she has a thing with Nekomaru, so Male Preference.

Chiaki is here for the same reason as Akane. I’ve shipped her with characters like Sonia and Ibuki before, but she really digs Hajime.

Chihiro honestly could have been anywhere in the Bi and Pan sections, but I ultimately went with Male Preference because of ships, specifically the fact that outside of the more... R18 circles of the Interwebs Chihiro tends to be shipped with guys more often than girls. Also doesn’t hurt that my OTP is Naehiro. I mean, have you seen how often Chihiro blushes around Makoto? (There’s more to it than that, as I’ve covered in the past. I’m just trying to add more fuel to the fire.)

Himiko is probably one of the few characters that isn’t here mainly because of ships. I do think she has some attachment towards Tenko, but I also get “I’m uncomfortable around her” vibes from her, and there are moments where she seems to crush on Kokichi (of all people) so that’s why she’s here. Still very much bi, though.

Hina has a crush on Makoto and has a complex around wishing she was more feminine so she can attract boys. So why isn’t she in the Straight section? ...Because Sakura, duh. And Kyoko too. And any other wlw ship you can think of that might work with Hina.

Honestly if it wasn’t for Miu I probably would have considered putting Kokichi in Gay. Again, while shipping plays a big part of my choices here, much like with Rantaro I have no qualms with putting a character in a tier that contradicts any ships I might have with that character, if those ships aren’t something I’m super invested in. This is a very important distinction, because it’s why I let ships sway my hand for so many of these even if I am also okay with going “Just because I ship this doesn’t mean I headcanon it” as I did with Rantaro. And honestly Kokichi’s ship teasing with Himiko does come off as more trollish than a sign that he’s into her, but he really gets into his back-and-forth with Miu, in my personal opinion, and he gets into it far more often with her for that matter. It’s why it’s one of my favorite ships for both of them tbh, and it’s because I like the ship so much that I just can’t ignore it for this sexuality headcanon tier list.

Maki... is here because of ships (e.g. Kaede).

Sakura... is here because of ships (e.g. Hina). ...What, you were expecting me to put a guy in the example? Remember, she has a boyfriend in canon.

Sayaka... is here because of... NOT ships, but DRAT. Yes, really. (”We really got down and dirty, Naegi-kun.”)

Sonia... strikes me as someone who swings both ways. I can’t describe exactly why I feel that way, but yes.

Bisexual (No Preference)

Celeste wants a harem of vampire boys but shipping her with Kyoko is also very popular and honestly i feel like it would fit her character. She’s got a look that says “I could get any ass I want and I know it.”

Ibuki is decked out in blues and pinks, and also I ship her fairly evenly among both boys and girls. She just screams bi icon to me, more so than any other character in the series.

Junko is either bi with no preferences or pan. She is an equal opportunity heart-and-soul-breaker and lust-for-despair machine.

There is no Mukuro in this list, but honestly I would probably put her where I put Junko anyway.

Kaede... is here because of ships (e.g. Miu, Maki)

Honestly I had no idea where to put Kirumi, so I just randomly chose one that I wouldn’t regret later if I ever put more thought into who I shipped her with.

I’m pretty sure Nagito being bisexual has some degree of canon attached to it??? I think??? I’m not entirely sure tbh, but fuck it. I’m doing this for fun anyway, so this doesn’t really matter.

Shuichi, like all Danganronpa protags, is bi as fuck. I also find him to be more shippable with guys than the other two protags, so IMO he has no preference.

Toko might have a thing or two for pretty boys, but... Komaru, I mean, this isn’t exactly shocking, I don’t think. Probably was closeted before she met Komaru. I mean she did focus on Hina’s boobs a lot in DR1, let’s not forget.

Tsumugi, much like Kirumi, is here because I haven’t put much thought into her ships.

Bisexual (Female Preference)

Gundham has a thing with Sonia in canon, but I can see him being bi. So... yeah, ships again.

Hajime, like all Danganronpa protags, is bi as fuck. It’s just that his Chiaki and Mikan game is just too strong.

Hifumi might claim to only like 2D, but his interest in Chihiro both in human form and computer program form (and the fact that this didn’t go away after the gender reveal) places him here.

Kaito strikes me as a closeted bisexual. The kind that could start any given conversation with “I’m not gay, but...”

Kazuichi also strikes me as a closeted bisexual, only his “I’m not gay, but...” is rooted more in dumbass than it is in systematic homophobia.

Korekiyo... is here because of ships (e.g. Rantaro).

Kyoko is bi as fuck, and I can see her having a preference towards girls in particular. She gets shipped with girls a lot (e.g. Celeste, Hina, Yui, and even Junko and Mukuro), and when she is shipped with boys it’s usually just pretty boys (e.g. Makoto, Byakuya, Ryota, Shuichi, and, depending on your interpretation, Chihiro). Also note that aside from Makoto and maybe Byakuya, Kyoko’s girl ships are far more popular than her boy ships. Just something I’ve noticed over the years.

Leon... is here because of ships (e.g. Chihiro).

Mahiru is here because I’m pretty sure she has a thing for Hajime in her FTEs, but obviously she tends to get shipped with girls more often (especially Hiyoko), and I agree.

Makoto, like all Danganronpa protags, is bi as fuck. It’s just that his Kyoko, Hina, Sayaka, and Mukuro game is just too strong.

Mikan may be interested in Hajime somewhat, but her obsession with Junko cannot be ignored, no matter how much some of you may want to.

Mondo is another character that strikes me as a closeted bisexual. He is said to strike out all the time with girls, so I do think he’s attracted to women. And I do get some vibes that he’s attracted to Chihiro pre-reveal. And if circumstances had been different, I imagine he probably still would have been post-reveal. But obviously it’s his bond with Taka that I feel cements his sexuality in, at the very least, an mlm category.

Tenko... is here NOT because of ships, but because I’m pretty sure she’s at least sort of interested in Shuichi because of some canon thing... and also I don’t want to put her in Lesbian just because it feels like I’d be stereotyping the Lesbian category if I do that. If we were to compare her to the character that I did put in Lesbian, Hiyoko doesn’t treat people like shit because they’re men, she’s an equal-opportunity asshole. Still not the best representation for lesbians by a long shot, but at least Hiyoko doesn’t follow the stereotype of a man-hating lesbian. She’s just like that, and that’s okay. But putting Tenko there, especially if she’s shown some degree of interest in a male character at some point in the game, just rubs me the wrong way personally, because it would feel like I’m ignoring canon just to stereotype her. But that’s just a personal hang up of mine. No disrespect intended toward anyone who genuinely feels that Tenko is a lesbian. Maybe you see something there that I don’t, and that’s perfectly fine.

Pansexual

I don’t remember exactly how her FTEs went, so I’m not going to get into that, but Angie just comes off as pan to me, like gender doesn’t fit into the equation at all for her.

Gonta I can see as either pan or ace. I feel like he wouldn’t care about gender, and honestly the only reason I decided to put him in Pan rather than Ace is because of that scene with Miu.

Imposter is not only pan, they are currently OT3ing it up with Ibuki and Ryota as we speak, and that’s a fact.

Keebo... is mostly here because of ships. A lot of ships, actually. Mostly male ships (Kokichi, Shuichi, Kazuichi, and, depending on your interpretation, Chihiro) but there’s also Miu to consider. And the Miu game is SO strong that I put him in Pan instead of, say, Male Preference.

Just gonna lump them together because I have the same thing to say about both of them: Miu and Teruteru would **** anything that walks. What did I censor? Well, I’m doing the Nier: Automata thing, so you can put whatever you want in there and trust me, it would probably fit, for better or for worse.

Ace

I know this is an unpopular opinion, because Naegami, but I just don’t think Byakuya is interested in anyone, at least not in that way. He might be fascinated with how common people live, because it’s so foreign to him, but that’s about it.

Straight

Even though I do ship Fuyuhiko with some of the boys, his Peko game is so strong that honestly I can’t see him actually dating anyone aside from Peko outside of some very niche fanfiction.

Honestly, Hiro was another one that I was just like “I have no idea what to do with you.” I think maybe his team up with Kanon made me eventually choose to put him in Straight? I don’t remember. I clearly didn’t put much thought into Hiro.

I really only ship Nekomaru with Akane, so that’s why he’s here. I’m sure if I dive deep enough into my psyche I can pull an mlm ship with Nekomaru in it out of my ass, but like Rantaro that wouldn’t be significant enough to change anything.

Peko is in the same boat as Fuyuhiko. I have shipped her with girls before, but her Fuyuhiko game is just too strong.

Ryoma had a girlfriend once, and as far as I can remember he didn’t really seem interested in anybody in the game, so that’s all I have to go off of for him.

-----

So there you have it. Explanations for literally all of them! Explanations that were definitely not pulled out of my ass as I was typing them, nope, certainly not. Definitely won’t be tagging all of them, but I may tag the ones with the longest entries. And like all the tier lists I’ve done, this was just for fun and honestly any opinion I have for any of these characters could change at a moment’s notice because my brain is fickle like that. Tried my best to make sure that every tier had at least one character in it, but I did so without trying to force characters in places that I personally did not believe they should go. I hope you all enjoyed my dive into this area of fandom that I rarely dive into (the LGBT headcanons, not the ships, obviously). It was a lot of fun, and hopefully it will stay fun and not result in angry anons blasting me for my opinions. I am grateful that this never seems to happen to me, but I’ve seen it happen to others and I know what Tumblr is capable of at its worst. These are just headcanons and a matter of personal opinion, and if you disagree with them, that’s perfectly okay. Your feelings and opinions are also valid.

[guardianspirits13]

Natsuo Headcanons- Part 2!

Part 1 wasn’t too popular but I’m not going to sit on this goldmine of Natsuo content sitting in my notes 😤

He's actually very protective of Shouto, there aren't many times when it's visible, but he wishes he had been there more

Whenever he's at home he keeps a close eye on Shouto to make sure Endeavor hasn't been training him or abusing him otherwise

He's not gonna repeat the same mistakes he made with Touya, he's determined to be a good big brother and build a relationship with Shouto

He wants a normal family just as much as Fuyumi, but as long as Touya's missing they'll never be truly together

Asexual Natsuo, anyone?

He takes psychology classes and gains a much broader perspective on his family dynamic

Oh and he's also quirkless

You know he's the family disappointment (of course until Touya returns), he used to doubt Endeavor would willingly acknowledge him because of the shame it would bring to him

In Endeavor's eyes quirkless people are the weakest, so you could imagine the disappointment when Natsuo was just. A normal kid.

Also you'd better guess it's difficult living in a world where you and your family's abuser is publicly praised

Natsuo has one friend who is an Endeavor fan, and it's a rocky relationship

See Endeavor's name isn't common knowledge because most people could care less, but it's out there if you're desparate enough to know

Case in point Natsuo regularly deflects suspicion because "Todoroki is a common name, it's not a big deal"

But while Natsuo actively denies being related to Endeavor, he's not gonna lie about Shouto being his brother. It doesn't take much to put two and two together

He has the last (and only) photo with all of his siblings before Touya died as the lockscreen on his phone

He's super supportive of Shouto, and he recognizes the mental strength it takes for him to work with Endeavor in a professional environment. He personally can't be in the same room as Endeavor for more than a few minutes, but praises Shouto's maturity in that sense

Again he's trying really hard to build a relationship with Shouto, most of it is encouraging him from afar

You can bet he was yelling at the screen for the sports festival, he knows how much Shouto hates his fire side but you can bet he's a little miffed at Bakugou for knocking him out, until of course Bakugou saved his life but that's beside the point

He actually enjoys cooking, yeah he's not the best at it but he's being compared to the g o d d e s s that is Fuyumi

Anyone's cooking would taste bad next to hers

And you know as much as he hates Endeavor he still seeks his approval

So he'll never admit it but it definitely hurt him when Endeavor made some offhand comments about his cooking and he doesn't enjoy it as much anymore because it's just another way he's a failure

He still bakes tho

Definitely the person who makes friends by bringing baked goods to every event

You can bet his friend group is awesome as well, they're all super supportive of each other

They're the sort of kids who cash in for pizza parties and movie marathons in the lounge room

He doesn't drink and doesn't really intend to once he's of age either- Endeavor wasn't exactly an alcoholic but there have been enough 'incidents' as it is that he made up his mind a while ago

He's on academic scholarship; he wasn't too keen on asking Endeavor to sign all his college forms so he applied for scholarships out of spite

Yes, he does a lot of things out of spite but it's gotten him to where he is today so he's not complaining

In the rare event that he's pissed at someone other than Endeavor, he becomes very passive-aggressive

But like, in a way that his professors can't penalize him

He'll take advantage of any loophole in an assignment and end up doing the opposite of what was asked, except the final product is so well crafted nobody can really discredit him

Yeah I'm getting oddly specific but you can't blame me for projecting onto him

Okay back to basics

His favorite color is (obviously) blue

Purple is a close second

Naturally he's biased against red

I wanna say he's a dog person, but because he wasn't around animals much as a kid he actually prefers fish

He has a fish tank on his desk to keep him company while he studies

Sleep schedule? Who's she?

On that note he drinks. So much coffee. He'll get a triple shot of espresso at 6pm

His fears are more abstract, than anything...There are a lot of specific moments in his childhood that he can draw on, so his biggest fear is probably that Endeavor will lose control again and hurt one of his siblings

Like he already lived through his worst fear when he lost Touya, and he doubts anything can hurt more than that

(There was no way of knowing that Touya being alive again was a close contender, trying to murder Shouto and all)

Part 1 here

That’s all for now, again feel free to add on and reblog if you want a part three ;)

[elizabethvaughns]

get to know me tag game

tagged by @willowstea. thanks! :) 💙

why did you choose your url?

i've said this before in a previous tag game but. it's from "ain't no man manhattan" from if/then, also known as one of my favorite songs :)

"all of eight point two five million on the run, / a different way for every single one, / all turning and returning, fast and slow. / and we somehow find each other, even so."

i felt these lines were especially beautiful, so yeah :)

any side-blogs? if you have them, name them and why you have them.

yes! @ifthen-headcanons. many popular/semi-popular fandoms have headcanon/incorrect quotes blogs, and i felt that if/then deserved one. so one fine april wednesday, during a particularly boring math class, i decided to make this blog.

how long have you been on tumblr?

i don't actually remember making this account(i probably made it sometime in 2017 or 2018), but i actually started using it sometime in january 2020. i started posting in april 2021.

do you have a queue tag?

yep! #queue don't need to love me.

why did you start your blog in the first place?

why did i start my blog? i genuinely don't remember it's been years.

why did i start posting? well, in march 2021, i watched a recording of if/then and immediately fell in love with it. over the next few days, i started browsing the tumblr tag for it and blogs with it. hilariously enough, i finished the whole tag within two days. over the next month i fell more and more in love with this musical. so much so that i had to get over my parasocial anxiety and post about my appreciation for this musical. things...spiraled from there, and now we're here! :)

why did you choose your icon/pfp?

jackie burns's beth, my beloved(...in hindsight, i may have a small crush on elizabeth vaughn lmao).

why did you choose your header?

my header is a blue-orange gradient. if/then colors--blue-green is the main color scheme of beth-verse and pink-orange is the main color scheme of liz-verse. so, blue-orange.

what's your post with the most notes?

the trina/mendel (falsettos) gif-set i made in honor of may 27th at 8 (30 notes).

how many followers do you have?

18 followers

how many people do you follow?

147 lmaoo

have you made a shitpost?

honestly, 50% of the stuff i make is a shitpost.

how do you feel about the 'you need to reblog this' posts?

...not a big fan. a lot of them are blatantly note bait. some of them are genuinely funny, which i will reblog. if they're meant to spread awareness and have useful links/information, i'll reblog it. but...a lot of it is just reblog bait that feels a lot like guilt-tripping.

do you like tag games?

yes!!! i overshare a lot and i love an invitation to overshare :)) one misgiving i have about it, though, is...i just don't know who to tag! all my mutuals? the one or two mutuals whom i interact with the most frequently? no one?

do you like ask games?

again, another invitation to overshare. except, if your askees have anon on, they won't know it's you (; (;

(i have anon on, if you're nervous like me :))

which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

i...genuinely don't know. sorry :(

do you have a crush on a mutual?

people have crushes on mutuals?

huh.

no, no i don't :)

tagging:

(if you'd rather not be tagged, tell me, please. in converse, if you're okay with being tagged in this, also tell me. it'll spare me a lot of anxiety)

@icouldcrackyourfeet

@miyacantdecide

@yunostar

@pianonotforte

+ any of my other mutuals/followers who want to join in :)

[doublenotted]

Interview    with    the    muse    !!    Repost    dont    Reblog

WHAT    IS    YOUR    NAME?    :   “ Theo. ”

WHAT    IS    YOUR    REAL    NAME?:   ” Oh. Like full name? Theodore Nott. ”

DO    YOU    KNOW    WHY    YOU    WERE    CALLED    THAT?   “ …No honestly. I believe my mother picked it out of a book titled ‘Most Popular Names for Deranged Welsh Boys So No One Suspects Them’ and she picked Theodore. ”

ARE    YOU    SINGLE    OR    TAKEN?:   “ However I’m feeling, depending on the day.”

HAVE    ANY    ABILITIES    OR    POWERS?:   “ Promise not to tell anyone? I’m a wizard. I know, I know. Shocker. ”

WHAT’S    YOUR    EYE    COLOR?:   “ Blue? Just blue. “

HOW    ABOUT    YOUR    HAIR    COLOR?    :   “ Huh…uh. Brown? I think it’s brown. ”

HAVE    YOU    ANY    FAMILY    MEMBERS?:   “ Sadly, yes I do. My father is still alive. Working on fixing that soon. ”

THAT’S    COOL    I    GUESS,    NOW    TELL    ME    SOMETHING    THAT    YOU’RE    BAD    AT.   “ I have been told that I’m not that good at connecting with people...but serious answer, I’m a horrible painter. Can not paint to save my life.”

DO    YOU    HAVE    ANY    HOBBIES/ACTIVITIES    YOU    LIKE    DOING?:   “ I play the piano, I don’t know if that’s a hobby since I never really get to do it here in Hogwarts. But it’s something I enjoy. ”

EVER    HURT    ANYONE    BEFORE?    :   “ Why do you want to know? ”

EVER….KILLED    ANYONE    BEFORE?    :   ” Gods no...This isn’t...being taped or anything right? ”

NAME    YOUR    WORST    HABITS.:   "Draco would say that it’s my inability to take anything serious and make a joke out of things. I like to think it’s the smoking.”

DO    YOU    LOOK    UP    TO    ANYONE    AT    ALL?:   “Huh...not particularly. I do look up to Narcissa but that could be fear as well.”

WHAT    ARE    YOU    MOST    AFRAID    OF?:   “ Why would I tell you that? I’m not an idiot. ”

DO    YOU    LOVE    SOMEONE?:   “ ...I loved my mother. And I like to think I love my friends. ”

HOW    MANY    FRIENDS    DO    YOU    HAVE?:  “ Enough to count on just one hand. ”

WHAT    ARE    YOUR    THOUGHTS    ON    PIE?:   “ Pie...is a rather good. I enjoy a good Rhubarb pie. ”

FAVORITE    DRINK?:   ”Fire Whiskey. Nonalcoholic drink would probably be a Coke. But like, only from a McDonalds. ”

WHAT’S    YOUR    FAVORITE    PLACE?:   “ Malfoy Manor. ”

ARE    YOU    INTERESTED    IN    SOMEONE?:   “ As of late? Not really. “

WOULD    YOU    RATHER    SWIM    IN    THE    LAKE    OR    THE    OCEAN?:   “ A lake. The ocean seems rather scary. “

Camping    or    Indoors?:   “ Indoors. I am not a camping person and that will never change. “

Tagged by:  no one!! Stole it from Dom

Tagging:  All of you, it’s fun

[partywithgyu]

TXT AS WRITERS ON TUMBLR.

Choi Yeonjun.

Theme of blog: changes all the time. Mostly, dark.

Genre of work: Romance. He is a romantic boy who loves writing down his thoughts about it. Also, smut. 

🌹His posts will leave the readers feeling like they have been in love even if they haven't.

🌹Probably, ends up explaining his perspective of love very well. 

🌹Might make a lot of typos. 

🌹Also, ends up getting competitive. 

🌹Thinks his posts aren't good enough if he doesn't get a lot of likes. Even if they aren't as much as his previous posts, he thinks he can do better. 

🌹Never gets bitter about it though. Not here to hate on anyone. 

🌹Hypes up his friends in the asks. 

🌹Would drop by your ask box and leave the weirdest comments to hype up your work. 

🌹Always supports new accounts. Will also reblog posts. 

🌹Will even give life advice to his readers. 

🌹Like the older sibling of tumblr.  Talks like a wise old man who has seen a lot in life.

🌹Will try his best to mix in with the younger writers but can't succeed all the time. 

🌹Talks about his interests often too. 

🌹Will probably have to ask another writer what some terms mean. 

🌹He always learns new phrases on Huening Kai's page. 

🌹Probably the only one who didn't hesitate before messaging Taehyun, who might have come off as closed off to some. 

🌹Always encourages Beomgyu to continue talking about his feelings and checks in on him. 

🌹Also, he might come off as a flirt.

🌹At some point, Soobin would get confused if he is still joking around or flirting for real.

🌹Just a simple minded fool. 

🌹Everyone loves this fool though. 

Choi Soobin. 

Theme of blog: Neural colors like light blue or dull pinks and beige. 

Genre of work: Angst. 

🌸Loves to write angst because he believes it's the most emotional. Likes stuff with sad endings. 

🌸He thinks movies with sad endings are the most memorable. So, he'd try to write stuff with sad endings. He wants the readers to remember his work. 

🌸Has to ask some of his friends to check out his English at times. Gets confused. The posts are still adored even if he makes a few mistakes. 

🌸Also, he would use the most aesthetic fonts. 

🌸Would be so shy when he's new but then eventually ends up getting adopted by the more extroverted writers on tumblr. 

🌸Yeonjun approached him first. 

🌸Now, he's found in Soobin's asks using the cheesiest pick up lines on him. If not flirting, they're debating about mint chocolate ice cream.

🌸Loves Taehyun's blog because he loves to read the long, well written posts. 

🌸Always thanks people for requesting stuff. Anticipates feedback.

🌸Is lowkey shy to take part in loud conversations amongst writers he doesn't talk to often. Would just read it and laugh. 

🌸Would always tease his friends in the ask box. Probably by talking to them like they're babies. Loves teasing Huening Kai.

🌸He would love to add cute anime gifs in the posts. The cherry blossom gifs mostly. 

🌸Definitely reblogs anime food gifs.

🌸Loves discussing food on his blog with his moots.

🌸Will never let them forget he loves bread. 

🌸' Hiii. I ate yummy bread today. Feeling happy. :) ' 

Choi Beomgyu. 

Theme of blog: A sophisticated match of color and patterns. Somewhere in between dark and light. 

Genre of work: Angst and fluff.

🍂His posts would acknowledge sadness and tough feelings. He would write stuff that would make the reader feel comforted. 

🍂Often talks about these thoughts that he thinks aren't acknowledged enough. 

🍂Sometimes posts about his days and talks about his thoughts and emotions. 

🍂You bet he would try to guess the real profiles of his anons. 

🍂Makes guesses, messages the real profile and then learns that he was wrong. Always ends up getting embarrassed.

🍂He would always admire other writer's work. He'd leave thoughtful comments too. 

🍂Always look at them with heart eyes and tell them that they are amazing.

🍂Probably gets confused about stuff all the time and will pick one reader he likes and ask them about it. Mainly, Huening Kai. He doesn't want to seem too much like a fool that's why.

🍂Huening Kai wouldn't judge him, he knows.

🍂Would love to chit chat about the most random stuff. Always, wants to know people's opinions on books, shows and movies.

🍂Will always try to be part of the conversation. 

🍂Sometimes becomes a little shy, wondering if he's coming off as too talkative. 

🍂Loves talking to Huening Kai because he makes him laugh. The conversations are super hilarious to him. 

🍂Says the most adorable stuff sometimes making everyone go, "Aww."

🍂He's adorable.

Kang Taehyun. 

Theme of blog: Beautiful scenery and complimentary colored accent. Probably the most beautiful picture of the sky or the beach. 

Genre of work: Fantasy. Sometimes, simple romantic posts too. 

🌙He writes for fun, just like everyone. It only makes it more fun to challenge himself and try to write different stuff. So, he finds himself drawn to genre like fantasy. 

🌙Does his research about the different type of characters and ends up writing the most interesting stuff. 

🌙Puts time and efforts. Won't write it in one go. So, he wouldn't post as often. 

🌙He also tries to learn new words and add them. Whatever he writes would be sophisticated and interesting to read. 

🌙Naturally intimidating. 

🌙Some writers would be so happy if he likes any of their posts because his work would be impressive. Beomgyu would be. 

🌙Tries to make friends but doesn't know how to. So, he's probably an anon on all pages and talks the weirdest stuff. 

🌙And when he reveals his real profile to the writers, they would be surprised. 

🌙Overall, here for a fun time and tries his best to blend in. 

🌙Would talk a lot once he starts talking. 

🌙Soobin and Taehyun would have such deep conversations on their blogs with each other. 

🌙He would also compliment Beomgyu's work because he would like how expressive his writings are. 

🌙Loves having debates with Huening Kai. They always have different answers. Plus, he's funny.

🌙Taehyun's jokes are difficult to understand through texts so he'd have to clarify and explain the meanings often.

🌙Always here for gossip. 

🌙"You know whaaattt."

Huening Kai. 

Theme of blog: Beautiful colours. Light green and lavender purple like combinations. 

Genre of posts: Crack. At first he'd write simple stuff to figure out what genre he likes best. But since crack makes him laugh a lot, he ends up enjoying writing that. 

🌞Tumblr besties with Taehyun. 

🌞He's here to be a living meme. Replies to asks with meme pictures. That's how him and Taehyun communicate.

🌞Uses all the popular American slangs. Yes, this is the blog that is educating Yeonjun about all this. 

🌞Has the funniest posts. 

🌞Always adds the most unexpected plot twists to his writings.  

🌞Readers find them amusing. Who wouldn't want to have a good laugh while reading tumblr posts? 

🌞Isn't scared to make his posts silly. 

🌞Says the funniest things while conversing with the anons. Doesn't hesitate before roasting himself even. 

🌞Always talks about his interests too. 

🌞Reblogs boy band posts too. 

🌞Loves talking about boy bands with Beomgyu. Total fanboy. It's the cutest thing. 

🌞Would love to discuss food with Soobin too. 

🌞He's here to chill and have a good time with his friends. 

🌞Totally owns the crack genre.

To head to my masterpiece click here.

[kirby-the-gorb]

reply roundup!

thank you to the patrons! fleurdelis, lukeperiodsun, @heraldinthedark, hadbabits, kellie, natascha, kirbx14, and @technophage!

also kirby’s [pride preparations] seemed to be pretty popular!

it’s a long one this time!

on [road trip]:

@littlemousejelly said: oh the universal Displaced Smol Feeling. doesn't matter how tall you are you look at a menu like this. doesn't matter how old you are being on a roadtrip means you feel like you're nowhere and everywhere and that's OKAY

@thebreakfastgod said: in 8th grade i went on a roadtrip in the week long break for Thanksgiving. on Thursday we were driving home but didnt make it back until Friday, so that Thursday we had Thanksgiving at McDonalds somewhere out in Kansas. we had actual thanksgiving the next day with my brother. this drawing is so cute n it reminded me of this :)

@nikuknight said: so cute!! and yeah this experience is universal I think ^^ relatable

@indigowallbreaker said: this was me last Sunday, what a feeling

@sortofabetaiguess said: this is probably what i’m gonna be like. actually if my queue works this is probably what i /am/ like. #not twilight

oh I didn’t expect to get road trip stories out of this post but it’s wonderful that I did, I’m glad so many of you can relate XD (also I had to keep the “#not twilight” tag because there’s just something delightful about my kirby making it to a twilight blog.)

on [sandwiches]:

@salted15 said: ohmygoodness !!!!! them hamds !!!!! they full !!!!!!! blessed

@orion-flux said: TWO GRILLED CHEEZUMS!?

two of them!!! (also I love that two different people tagged the same friend in this drawing, that’s so cute :’> )

on [mirror]:

@littlemousejelly​ said: OH CUTE, I THINK THEY BOTH LOOK NICE! i'm Love mirror kirmby very much they are as much shaped as a friemd as right side gorb kirby

oh he is definitely equally friend shaped! he’s just not quite as round lol

@macro-microcosm​ said: the duality of man

man vs self

on [game night]:

@lavendarjevil said: girls night

pedicures! talkin about boys! pillow fight!

@poltergeist-draws-probably​ said: me and the besties on a tuesday afternoon

heck yeah dude that is exactly the vibe I was going for

@littlemousejelly​ said: oh this is precious oh my godddd LOOK AT THE LIL KIRBOS WATCHING AS GREENBY DOES THE VIDDY GAME FOCUSING SO HARD AND DOING A REALLY BIG WIN, PINKBY IS JUST HAPPY TO BE THERE! blueby is asleep shhh... GRAYBY DOESN'T KNOW WHAT GREENBY IS DOING BUT THEY'RE IN AWE CUTE CUTE CUTE

using the color names like that is so cute :0 I just love the excitement in these tags it feels so nice ;u;

@toastycharmander​ said: 🥺 imma be honest i wish i could sit with friends and watch them play video games like this, just seems so nice. i’d probably end up as the blue kirby at some point tho

man, same. someday we will all get to sit with our friends again and/or make good friends to sit with.

on [incognito]:

@gingersducksandbubbles​ said: the brows remind me of the cinnamon toast crunch meme. either way, adorable until proven innocent and even then still adorable. yes im aware of what the last tag says. its the law duh

the crime he was wanted for was being adorable! there is no escaping that! (also I don’t think I’d seen that meme before, drawing angry eyebrows on things is just almost always funny huh)

on [hat]:

@dragonsandmollusks​ said: baseball hats or whatever this type of hat is called are way too hard to draw

ugh, they really are. especially in lineless art! (altho the person who said they’re putting this one in the art ref folder is funny XD )

on [small]:

@littlemousejelly​ said: OH TEENY!!!!! HELLO YOU ARE VERY SMALL!! OR VERY FAR AWAY!! OR BOTH!! I LOVE YOU!!!! littol teeny kirby are you cold?? are you rubbing your lil hands together because you have a chill?? WAIT I ZOOMED IN AND YOU ARE POUTING! AHHHHHH CUTIE I KISS YOUR LIL PIMK HEAD AND PATPAT! i hope you feel better soon!!!

a true journey :’>

@gingersducksandbubbles​ said: hi kirbo! why you so far away? did he have a snack? i see that lil cheek curve. he holding his hands or arm nubs so cute like an innocent lil guy so cute. is he innocent tho? not gonna get into tjat discourse cuz the end result is that he's always adorable!! Thank you kirby!

I like this interpretation too! just trying to play innocent after stealing a snack. :>

there was a lot on [pride prep]:

@lammiies said: Kirby supports Gay Pride! 🏳️‍🌈

@macro-microcosm said: BEST MOST SUPPORTIVE BOI happy pride 🌈

@rainbowmilk1996 said: Kirby is a good lad. That, and he probably likes all the colors

@neurokinetics said: my sweet gay child

you are all correct! kirby is gay, kirby supports gays (and the whole lgbtqia+ community! all of us!), and kirby thinks all the pretty pride flag colors are very neat. :>

@drummajor-isyourbandready said: this is the only pride post I'll reblog probably. look at this fella

ohh a high honor! thank you :> (although of course if you find other stuff also worth sharing that’s a good thing too!)

@kiwi-lynx said: Ok, I’m obsessed with your drawings THEY ARE JUST SO CUTE 🥰🏳️‍🌈

@pizza-equals-poetry said: op this is beautiful

awwh thank you both so much!

also @your-local-neighbourhood-kat tagged me in this [very cursed image] by a deactivated blog which, thanks I hate it XD

[lemonsandstrawberries]

Hashtag: RelationshipGoals

fandom: Stony (Steve x Tony)

summary: Steve is being forced into getting a Twitter accounts and logs into Tony’s for inspiration - one mistake later, he finds more than he asked for. Meaning, his boyfriend has a tickle kink and Steve has a lot of thinking to do. 

length: 5 468

a/n: Happy Friday 13th! *throws confetti* To celebrate I am posting a fic that contains one of the biggest fears for people with tickle kink - someone finding out when you are not ready to tell them. It has a happy ending, promise! Hope you all will enjoy this fic, feedback, reblogs and likes are appreciated and needed! fic inspired by this prompt. 

—————

Hashtag: RelationshipGoals

Long story short - Steve was getting a Twitter account.

Long story long...

It all started with a certain PR meeting held for the Avengers team, just this time, it was Steve vs the whole PR team. The problem was simple - Steve didn't like social media and didn't have an account on any of the numerous websites and apps. Fighting with aliens, planning new missions, schooling SHIELD agents - those were the zones he felt comfortable in. Some thought that the hidden reason behind the hostility towards social media was, that Steve, born in the 1920s, had a problem with using modern technology. Some called it endearing, some pathetic, the truth was, that Steve fairly quickly mastered each piece of technology he was given, skillfully using any given device. After all, he wasn't dense. Many apps were quite useful, some just plain entertaining, and it required a lot of navigating, but he managed to find some favorites. Just when it came to social media… Steve didn't feel like sharing his private life with unknown faces. Call him old-fashioned, but he liked having direct contact with people and as much as he liked to take a stop during his random walks in the city to talk with people who called themselves his fans, it quickly became too overwhelming. He wasn't good at such things and always thought he was too awkward and not what people expected. Steve didn't like that kind of pressure and didn't like the almost weekly notices from the PR team that he needed to make himself more 'accessible'. By no means, he was expected to stop and talk to everyone who ever called him or share mission details with strangers, but he needed to create a more public persona for Captain America and Steve Rogers.

Hence, Steve was encouraged to take a plunge into the world of social media. 

And he really, really, really didn't want to do that.

One - it was pretty tedious to keep up with everything. Tony eagerly showed him all social accounts he had - Twitter, Instagram, Facebook profile, Youtube, and it all just gave him a headache as Tony chattered which media was good for what and gladly showed him his own Instagram page (mostly workshop photos and meals Steve had prepared for him, which was kinda sweet) and if Steve became slightly interested in that, his interest dropped after hearing about filters and tags. Too much work. 

Second - he didn't have time to keep his theoretical accounts active and post new content regularly. Or more, he didn't want to make time, preferring to spend it on reading or training or hanging out with Tony or anything else, really. He had been gently suggested, that some celebrities (Steve's eyes widened a little after hearing that - was he a celebrity?) hire someone else to run their social media accounts. Steve shook his head at the proposition, knowing that none of his teammates did that and so he shouldn't either, not mentioning that everything posted wouldn't be sincere.

Third - Steve considered himself not an interesting person. He didn't have Tony's charisma, who, of course, had the biggest social media following ever, Thor's flair, which made his Youtube channel where he tasted food sent to him from all over the world by his viewers a huge success or Clint's humor, whose Internet activity limited to commenting on funny animal photos and home videos and people loved him. Even Bruce, seemingly even more awkward and distant when it came to dealing with a privacy-invading crowd, was doing great, kindling the interest of young kids in science with a series of easy to repeat experiments at home and railing about the importance of protecting and preserving the environment. Even Natasha didn't have a problem, her social media accounts full of useful self-defense tips for everyone who needed to feel safer. Steve just couldn't find anything in himself he would like to share with the world. He liked to keep his art private, his relationship private, and his whole life private. 

It should be the ending statement.

It wasn't.

And so Steve, feeling scolded, got back to his and Tony's shared floor, planning to hide, except that he was assigned a very simple task for the week.

Get a Twitter account.

Steve sat heavily on the couch, putting elbows on his knees and palms around his cheeks, definitely not pouting. Why on Earth did he need a Twitter account? Wasn't it enough that from time to time he appeared on Tony's account, being the supportive boyfriend, and allowing Tony share the photos of their date nights or even the short movies from Steve's training when Tony was proudly showing off Steve's impressive physique and using those damn filters and making small stars and glitter swirl around him. 

Speaking of Tony, he could use his boyfriend's advice... Steve checked his phone and knew that Tony was still stuck in a business meeting, and won't be back for an hour or so and as much as he wanted to not think about the Twitter issue it kept coming back to him. What was he supposed to write on Twitter? Something that wouldn't give too much about him, but would be safe and entertaining. He needed inspiration. Maybe a walk would clear his mind but as Steve was getting up, he noticed Tony's tablet laying at the edge of the coffee table. 

Well... Tony wouldn't mind if he took a peak, right? Granted, he never used Tony's tablet before without his boyfriend’s permission. It felt too personal and barging on privacy and it was almost a silent agreement between them that Steve won't touch Tony's electronic devices and Tony won't look through Steve's sketchbooks without prior agreement. But it was different, right? Tony's Twitter account was out there, for everyone, so it didn't matter if Steve would install the app on his phone and check the account, or go to the source and look through Tony's account. It might even help him to understand better how the app was working. 

Steve took the tablet and unlocked it, searching for the Twitter app. Letter T on a blue background. Steve pressed it and skimmed over the screen, looking at the design of the app. Huh, it looked very different from the account owner's point of view. He scrolled down the screen, seeing a lot of text, too much text because wasn't there a limit of signs per tweet? Further, into the app, Steve saw more of things he didn't recognize, didn't see any posts from other Avengers, instead of images and gifs and -

"Woah," Steve gaped, taking in what he was seeing. He quickly scrolled up, his face becoming heated, unsure what he just saw. For a minute, he turned the tablet in his hands, trying to decide if it really belonged to Tony and not someone else, but who else would have a hot red and gold cover, resembling the design of the Iron Man suit. It had to be Tony's tablet, which meant...

Those posts were Tony's. That account was Tony's. Tony had two Twitter accounts? Steve looked back, just now noticing that it wasn't Twitter after all. At the top of the screen on a background of dark blue in white letters was written Tumblr. Steve didn't hear of the app, it wasn't listed as one of the most popular ones for celebrities and that's probably why Tony used it for -

Steve wasn't exactly sure for what. For something secretive. Something he wanted to hide. Things he didn't admit even to Steve. 

Cautiously, Steve scrolled down again, trying to keep an open mind and be more cautious. He wasn't a prude, he knew that people had different kinks and it was completely normal. Heck, he and Tony had a very healthy sex and intimate life and the sight of Tony tied down for their playtime always made Steve's blood boil with lust and desire and they did indulge in some kinks, Steve current favorite one included spanking Tony's bouncy ass and watch it jiggle and the skin turn red. Tony had no problems with sharing his kinky fantasies and Steve was always willing to give it a go, sometimes proposing things on his own, like wax play, which wasn't only sexy but also artistic - Tony's body colored with drips of different colored wax was a beautiful sight. This... This was something different, Steve didn't think to consider. 

There were pictures, that without context seemed innocent, like an array of feathers on a pillow. Some were less subtle and showed a part of sucked in stomach, escaping from a coming closer feather duster. The gifs were the most intriguing - a tied up, blindfolded man, laughing and squirming, while a different man was...

Tickling him?

Steve's brow furrowed as he watched the gif, frame by frame. There was no doubt that it was tickling, fingers gliding over tied man's armpits and sides. Steve expected this to be a prelude, something more to follow, but it was all. Tickling was the main point. Steve blushed when he realized that if there were gifs, there had to be a video and who knew how long it was. How many minutes would it take to bring someone to the brink of hysterics, to make them crumble, but at the same time make it pleasurable? People were not forced into filming porn and following that principle, there were not forced into filming tickle kink videos.

And that being said... 

"Huh..." Steve mused out, bits of information falling into one picture. They never discussed it, but in the back of his head, Steve had this thought that Tony enjoyed being tickled, or at least didn't mind terribly. The way he squirmed between Steve's tickling hands but didn't try to run away. How he laughed and screamed for mercy whenever Steve targeted a sensitive spot and always seemed a bit disappointed when the tickling ended but masked it with a smile and complaints of being assaulted. Sometimes, Steve just felt provoked into tickling his boyfriend, like that one time, Tony had taken his sketchbook and hid away, refusing to say where he hid it and Steve had to tickle the information out of him until Tony was absolutely incoherent from laughter and breathless. 

That was cute. All those shared tickle moments were cute, but Steve never thought that they could be... hot. And intimate. He looked back at the gif, at the way the tickled man arched and bucked, but was not able to escape the ticklish strokes delivered over his skin. What if Tony was the one tied and spread in the chair and Steve was the one standing behind, dotting his fingertips over the bare torso, having that sense of power and control, enjoying the ticklish tremble of the bothered skin. It became a tempting image in his head. 

'Guuuuys, I don't know what to do.'

Steve's eyes caught on some text among the images and gifs. A separate post.

'I still can't tell my bf that I like being tickled. I just can't! There is this block in my head -'

Steve read the text, feeling that he might know the author. 

'I even did that thing you recommended with hiding his stuff away -'

Definitely knew the author. At the top of the post, he saw a name, probably the username and clicked on it. Blue background color, and image of feathers and the username in white bold font. The Spare Parts Man.

That was one major hint...

Steve scrolled down this page, seeing more text and images of people being tickled, some like, a gif that was of a zoomed in stomach, the belly button tickled by a tip of the feather, signed with a 'omg, goals', whatever that meant. Steve tried to search for the text he saw on the previous page, but couldn't find it anymore, instead saw more posts, where people seemed to be interacting with the author.

'Hi, SP! I was the one who sent you the asks with hiding your BF's stuff -'

'I am sure your BF will understand, from what you said, you are dating for a long time -'

'You still didn't tell him??? What are you waiting for, GO GO GO!'

Steve pursed his lips together, feeling upset that Tony was so willing to share with strangers, but not with him. This whole site seemed so secretive, and while Steve felt a bit betrayed, he started to think about things from Tony's perspective. Tickling wasn't a mainstream kink. Bondage, spanking, food play - all the things they had tried seemed to be more acceptable in the sex world while tickling... Some people enjoyed it, some hated it. Steve was somewhere in between. It could be a fun thing among loved ones, but could quickly become overwhelming and unbearable. Steve didn't think about it earlier, but he really liked tickling Tony. He loved the way his body twitched, the sound of his laughter, and the feeling of closeness and trust in the action. For Steve it was fun. For Tony, it had to run much deeper, forming stronger connections than it did for Steve. 

'I don't want to lose him. What if he thinks I am a freak?'

No, Steve would never think that. Tony was the great love of his life and Steve accepted him on every level. 

"Oh, babe..." Steve sighed softly, reading more posts, some screaming nervousness as Tony was pouring his heart out, feeling miserable with his inability to tell Steve the truth, some so heartwarming and oozing happiness when Tony was describing Steve's last tickle attacks and how incredibly good and completed it made Tony feel. 

That. Steve wanted to make Tony feel like that every day. Satiated and fulfilled and safe. 

No more secrets. 

Carried on the moment, Steve pressed on an icon with a pencil and began to write. 

***

Tony was bored. So, so bored. He caught a glimpse of Pepper sending him a scolding look and straightened up in his seat, pretending to pay attention. He just wanted to go back home and curl up next to Steve, feeling Steve's fingers stroking his hair and maybe, if he got lucky, Steve would rub his belly, using just enough pressure to make him smile and feel like melting. He started to smile at the thought and Pepper sent him a confused look. Uh oh. He better control himself. Tony grinned sheepishly at Pepper and set his face in a schooled, thoughtful look, trying to focus his attention on the meeting. Just half an hour more... It was all ending statements, so it was nothing bad if he decided to check his social media, right? Cautiously, Tony took out his phone and unlocked the screen, keeping the phone under the table. A new tasting video from Thor, with a package of sweets sent from the Netherlands. Tony made a mental note to drop later to Thor's floor and ask if he had any stroopwafels left to share because they were amazing with black coffee. Clint commenting on funny cats videos, Tony added it to his watch later list. As usual, his own social media were bursting with notifications, people raving over Iron Man and asking for more videos of Steve training routine, which, Tony couldn't blame them, the sight of his boyfriend working out was heaven. He even decided to check his Tumblr, curious if anyone sent him some more tips or maybe just left him a nice message -

Oh, that was weird. Usually, he had maybe two or three messages, some reblogs, and a few comments. This time, his app was bursting with notifications and Tony didn't post anything that could cause such a commotion in the last days.

'WHAT. WHAT????"

'Nooooooo... Please don't break up with him! He loves you so much!'

"The hell, dude! You invaded your bf's privacy like that?? You're the worst!"

Tony didn't understand anything. Maybe he clicked and shared something by accident. There was a slight possibility that his account was hacked. Maybe -

Maybe it was way, way worse. 

There was a new text post on his main, one he didn't write.

'Hi, this is Spare Part Man's boyfriend. I found this account by accident and me and my boyfriend have a lot to talk about once I see him.'

No. No, no, no.

"Tony? Tony, are you okay?!"

Tony didn't realize he started to hyperventilate until Pepper's voice brought him back. Everyone was staring at him and Tony felt like vomiting.

"I am fine," Tony said, not meaning it, his voice coming out squeaky. "Can we - excuse me, I have to go," Tony rambled out, sending a sorry look in Pepper's direction and trying to walk out of the conference room as calmly as possible. It felt like the whole world was spinning around him, making him feel nauseous. Tony stumbled to the window and pressed his face against the cool glass, trying to soothe his heated skin and get his thoughts back in order.

It wasn't supposed to happen. Not like this. Maybe it was never supposed to happen, staying as his hidden fantasy and dark secret. What if he deleted the account, right here, right now, would he be able to convince Steve that it never existed? 

No. Steve wouldn't fall for it. And Tony felt so stupid for creating that account in the first place, but he needed a place to vent. He didn't plan on socializing, sharing his life, just get the urges out and move on. He just... Wanted to feel accepted. Find people who thought the same as he did. Not feel so alone.

And he would end alone because Steve definitely was going to dump him.

***

"I am back!"

Tony was a genius. He had numerous diplomas to prove it. Yet, he decided that the best thing to do would be to march into his and Steve's shared floor, acting like nothing ever happened. Maybe if he managed to keep his cool he could put this whole Tumblr thing as a social study. Just a research on kinks. No biggie. He could do this.

"Tony, come to the bedroom for a second!"

Somehow hearing Steve's voice made this situation very real and not like Tony imagined it. He couldn't say anything from the tone of Steve's voice, it was neutral, not angry, but also wasn't the cheerful, loving one Steve had towards him. On usual days, Steve would come to him, resembling an excited puppy and lick his face - kiss, Tony meant kiss, and then they would sit on the couch and share their day. Their bedroom was a private, closed space and once Tony set his foot there, there was no way back. 

Feeling a nervous twist in his stomach, Tony peeked into the bedroom, just to feel if the situation was as bad as he feared. Steve was on the bed, forehead creased in thought, and was looking at the space in front of him until he spotted Tony from the corner of his eyes.

"Tony - " Steve started, sitting up straight, pulling shoulders back.

"No, Steve, I - " Tony walked into the bedroom, trying to make his voice strong. Just remember what he had planned and it would be fine. "I want to talk first, okay?" 

Steve blinked and frowned lightly, but kept his lips tight. Alright, if Tony insisted.

"Okay," Tony nodded, trying to give himself some courage and began to pace around the room. "I know you found my Tumblr account," he said the obvious, struggling to keep his voice firm. "And - and it was not true, you know that, right? I just - research - an experiment to - ahh," Tony quickly got lost in his words, noticing Steve's look changing to a confused one. "I - ah, fuck, fuck, fuck - " Tony couldn't get any coherent words out and stopped and hid his face in hands. He continued to quietly curse, not knowing how to get out of this mess and not lose everything. 

"Babe..."

Tony almost jumped away, when Steve came closer and wrapped arms around him. After a moment of hesitation, Tony buried himself into his soldier's arms, his face pressed against Steve's neck. Probably the last hug he would receive from Steve. This whole thing won't make Avengers stuff awkward at all. What if Steve would quit the team? Tony couldn't imagine not being able to see Steve anymore. He needed him. He would change, he would do better. Steve couldn't break up with him. 

"Of course that I am not breaking up with you," Steve said suddenly, and Tony winced, not realizing he said it out loud. "Is that what you thought?" Steve asked, sounding shocked. Reluctantly, Tony nodded. Somehow he was used to being rejected and walking away from problems was one of the things he did and expected the same happen to him. 

"God, Tony," Steve said in an exasperated huff, not believing how quickly this whole thing could escalate in Tony's mind. Then again, he should know, because Tony did think too much and sometimes didn't stop his thoughts on time, letting them drag him deeper and deeper. "Tony, I am not breaking up with you," Steve said again, just to make sure the words sunk in his boyfriend's head. "And I am sorry," Steve gently put his thumb and forefinger under Tony's chin, encouraging him to eye contact. 'Sorry you turned out to be messed up in the head,' Tony finished in his mind, looking into Steve's blue eyes. 

"I am sorry for barging into your space when you didn't feel ready to share yet," Steve said, closing the distance between them and leaning his forehead against Tony's.

What?

Tony didn't reply, just stared, his brown eyes widening. Steve was... apologizing to him? Not the other way around?

"I read some of your blog," Steve said and Tony panicked again, Steve holding him closer when he felt brunet's body tense, "and I understand how hard it is for you to talk about it and how important it is for you. I really do. If anything, I am... a bit disappointed you didn't tell me. Why didn't you?"

Tony's mouth twisted into a scowl. He was disappointed with himself too, but it was hard. Harder than admitting that he liked being pinned down by Steve, or spanked, as it all seemed... simpler. It was obvious why people who enjoyed it were turned on by it. Tickling wasn't easy to explain. 

"I wanted to," Tony finally spoke, his voice coming out quiet, "I didn't know how," this wasn't a good answer. Tony closed his eyes, not able to look at Steve. "I was embarrassed, I guess."

"Hmmm," Steve hummed in understanding, waiting for Tony to continue, but he didn't say anything more. Tony had no problems with voicing out his needs on his site, but face to face with Steve, he was fumbling and struggling for words. Anonymity gave him a sense of control which was being stripped away from him, layer by layer. Maybe with time, Tony would open more, and it was on Steve's side to nurture that vulnerable mindset until Tony would feel strong enough and confident to voice out his true needs. 

"Then... can you tell me why you like it?" Steve tried, sounding gentle and not judgmental. Keeping an open mind was the key here.

"I don't know," Tony said quickly, sounding defensive. He didn't mean to, but it was stranger than him. He didn't want Steve to judge him, to think less of him, but... It was Steve. Steve who was always so understanding and didn't laugh at him and did his best to keep Tony feel accepted. It won't work if Steve would be the only one willing to share. "I guess," Tony corrected himself, trying to be more open, "I like the trust in it. And closeness," he said, tugging on Steve's clothes and hiding more into his boyfriend, "and, uh, it feels good."

"Feels good?"

"Yeah," Tony admitted, burying his heated face deeper into Steve's neck. "Feels really good. Especially when you are the one ti - doing it."

"Oh," Steve said, carding his fingers through the short hair on the back of Tony's head. Tony shivered, just slightly, from the light touch, smiling against Steve's skin and Steve felt an urge to touch him all over. This time differently, more aware and more intimate, paying closer attention to the reactions. "So... you wanna do it?"

"Do what?"

"You know what."

Tony moved away from Steve, showing a confused face. That kinda felt like mocking him, but Steve's face was honest. And it would certainly change the mood and make Tony feel better about this whole day. "I don't know," Tony said, just to be safe, "do you want to do it?"

"Heck yeah."

"What? You do?" Tony asked, his mouth falling agape at the enthusiasm. 

"Sure. You like it and I like tickling you too. It's a win-win, right?"

Tony started to smile in relief. It was really happening. Steve accepted one of Tony's darkest secrets and even wanted to take part in it. Tony could barely wrap his mind around it, already feeling excited and giddy.

"So?" Steve asked again, eyes sparkling, waiting for permission from his boyfriend.

"If you keep asking, it takes the surprise factor AWAAHHAHA!" Tony's newly found boost of confidence was efficiently cut off when Steve latched hands to his sides and squeezed repeatedly. Tony doubled over in laughter and squirmed away, watching with a pounding heart as Steve followed him, smiling beautifully mischievous. "No, no, no, wait, Steve! STEHEVE!" Tony screeched in laughter when Steve ran forward, pushing Tony on the bed, and falling with him. "ACK! STE - hahaha! Waaait!" Tony wailed when fingers were going up and down his body tickling intensely. When Tony became pink in the face and a little breathless, Steve stopped, leaning in and kissing Tony's smiling lips.

"I love you, babe," Steve whispered, looking at his lover.

"I love you too," Tony answered, his heart hammering from the ticklish rush and all love he had for Steve. 

"Are we good?"

"We are good," Tony assured, still not believing that everything turned out so great. 

"Good," Steve smiled, and just now Tony realized that somehow both of his wrists were in soldier's hold and Steve easily pinned his hands above his head, leaving his torso exposed. "Because now," Steve said, sitting on Tony's thighs and slowly sliding his free hand under Tony's shirt. "I want to test every ticklish spot on you."

"Oh fuhahahck - " Tony wriggled uselessly, his stomach sinking in when Steve gently ran fingertips over the soft skin. "Steve, Steve, pleaheehehehese!"

"This is just your tummy and you already are so ticklish. It is a very promising start."

"Ahhahaha!"

"Oh, is this rib ticklish? How about this one? And this one?"

"GAAA HAHAHA!"

"Oh look, the higher I go, the more you laugh. Sooo, this means that when I do this -"

"PFF HAHAHAHA!"

"That's one ticklish armpit you have, babe! Let's find out if the other one is as ticklish -"

Steve was grinning, watching Tony crumbling and laughing, coming apart under his fingers. Steve was right, it was a win-win for both of them.

***

"You should write on your Tumblr."

"Huh?"

"You should," Steve repeated, rolling on completely naked Tony and kissing his lips, "write on your," a kiss on the chin, "Tumblr," Steve finished, blowing a raspberry into Tony's neck.

"HAAHAHA! Stoooop," Tony tried to swat Steve away, feeling too blissful to move. Of course that a long, intimate tickle session changed into an amazing make out. It was incredible how the tickle foreplay increased their appetite and how wonderfully responsive Tony became. 

Steve laughed and rolled on his side, looking at Tony with adoration. Laughing made Tony ten times more attractive in Steve's eyes, and Tony was off the scale to start with. 

"I am serious, babe," Steve tried again, gently poking his finger all over Tony's bare belly, making him squeak funnily and curl up, "write on your Tumblr. Everyone has to be worried."

"Ah hahaha... Ohkahay!" Tony agreed, shielding his stomach with one hand and using the other one to reach for his phone. "Uhh... Should I update and delete it?" Tony asked. With everything working out so great, there was no reason for him to keep that account. No more secret lusting, when he had it all in real life.

"If you want to," Steve said truthfully, "or maybe you can keep it for a bit longer because I might need some inspiration on how to take you apart."

"Ahhh, not sure if I want to give you access to that sort of power," Tony teased, opening the app. "Huh, people kinda hate you."

Steve shrugged, understanding that what he wrote, did sound menacing, even if it wasn't his intention. "Just write that we are fine and your boyfriend plans on fulfilling your each and every one tickle fantasy."

"You do?" Tony asked, voice trembling with excitement.

"All of them, babe," Steve assured, smiling broadly. He had remembered some of the things he read and gifs he saw, and could easily imagine Tony on the receiving end. 

Looking enthusiastic, Tony got to writing. Soon, Steve got up and leaned over Tony's shoulder, looking at the screen.

'Hi, guys. Sorry for the sudden silence but as you saw we had a situation here. It is all good now, me and BF talked, and he turned to be all sweet about it, not bragging, I just had my first tickle session and it was amazing! So, I just wanted to give you an update, that I am fine. More than fine. My BF said that I can keep this Tumblr if I want to and he will even use it as an inspiration, so aaaah, can't wait. Just don't give him any ideas! I am gonna talk to you all soon, but for now, I and my BF have plans. See you later!'

After the post got published, Tony and Steve didn't have to wait for a reaction.

'AAAAH! I AM SO GLAD EVERYTHING IS FINE! YOU BOYS HAVE FUN NOW!'

'Awesome, couple goals.'

'That's great, dude, but I hope your BF apologized.'

"That's the one that doesn't like me, right?" Steve squinted his eyes, pointing at the last comment. Tony laughed and nosed Steve's cheek playfully.

"It is okay, I like you," he smiled. "Do you want to have a nickname? That will make it much easier for me to write when you are involved."

"Um, sure," Steve said, not entirely sold on the idea, but not wanting to shot Tony's idea down. "You call yourself Spare Parts Man, right?" Steve asked and Tony nodded. "Soooo... How about you call me Iron Man?"

Tony's smile dropped in surprise, and he laughed mockingly. "Seriously, dude?"

"Hey, the darkest place is under the candle," Steve said, sounding defensive.

"Fine," Tony agreed, rolling his eyes dramatically. He reblogged the post and added an update.

'BF wants you to call him Iron Man. I know, lame.'

"Ack!" Tony almost dropped his phone when Steve scoldingly pinched his side. Soon the first comments came.

'Ah you sound like a superhero couple, how cute!'

'I am shipping you both. #relationshipgoals'

'Wow, your BF is not very creative, isn't he? But fine, let it be IRON MAN.'

"Write to this one that I don't like them either," Steve hissed, looking at the last comment. 

Tony laughed and turned to Steve, pressing their lips together in a kiss. Long and sweet. The kind of kiss that was the perfect happy ending to a tickle kink coming out story.

"Oh, interesting!" Steve suddenly said, ending the kiss too soon and looking at one of the comments, smiling wickedly. 

"What is int - noooooo!" Tony wailed, understanding the reason behind the smile. It was stronger than him and Tony started to panic. "It is a lie, Steve! Don't believe the lieeee no no aaah HELP!"

Steve laughed, wrestling Tony down and pinning his hands once again. If Tony was already getting this worked up, there was no way Steve would back up.

"No, please!" Tony giggled, kicking his legs, trying to wriggle away, as Steve's menacingly moving fingers were getting closer and closer. "I cahahahan't!"

Somehow, Steve didn't believe him. Instead, he believed the comment.

'Hey, this is for Iron Man - I am sure you know already, that SP's stomach is really ticklish, but did you try tickling his belly button specifically? From what SP writes it is a very ticklish outie. Have fun!'

When Steve pressed his finger over Tony's outie delicately and Tony burst into giggling, almost maniacal laughter, Steve was in heaven. It was settled, Tony was keeping his blog for further tips for Steve.