phoenixtouched

[phoenixtouched]

(✉️ ➡️ Father Unit ): Yes. (✉️ ➡️ Father Unit ): Do you use the same password for everything? Something probably about mom and the date you met or married or? (✉️ ➡️ Father Unit ): Because it could be anyone. (✉️ ➡️ Father Unit ): Not me. (✉️ ➡️ Father Unit ): And absolutely not Rictor. (✉️ ➡️ Father Unit ): Kitty knows about things, maybe ask her?

@phoenixtouched​

(✉️ ➡️ Rachel): [UNSENT] You’re young, right? (✉️ ➡️ Rachel): [UNSENT] How familiar are you with (✉️ ➡️ Rachel): [UNSENT] Do you know if (✉️ ➡️ Rachel): Is it possible for an Uber account to be compromised?

#firstxman #scott summers: uber

[phoenixtouched]

just tell me what you need.

@deoalexdanvers

Rachel's breath hitched. Tension in every part of her body - this woman, as nice as she seemed, had the same posture as the police she had met in the future. That same determination in her eyes. Rachel had to remind herself that this place was different. This universe was shaping in a different direction - it had to be. Even if Miguel still existed. Even if she still had the same nightmares behind her eyes. "Safety." The single word felt like the worst kind of confession, but it was raw and honest. The word pounding in the forefront of her mind. "Can't say I've ever felt that with any authority figure," she added, trying to brush it off as a cheeky comment.

#deoalexdanvers #alex danvers: authority figure

[phoenixtouched]

rictorscales​:

Rachel deserved better friends than Rictor. He knew that. She’d been there for him throughout a great deal of crises, talked him through things well enough to convince him not to jump off a roof, but when it was his turn to do the same for her? It was all Ric could do to keep himself from high tailing it out the front door. He should be better at this, he knew. A man who lost his way as often as he did should know how to help someone else find theirs, but he wasn’t. All he could do was make bad jokes, was distract, was cover a gaping wound with a fifty-cent Band-Aid. He didn’t know if that was enough.

“Occasionally. It’s annoying when it is, though. Being a mutant PI is kind of depressing, as it turns out.” A lot of hopeless causes, a lot of people wanting something they could never give them. It felt a little something like this, really, like Rachel lamenting about having no purpose and Ric having no idea how to change that. “Drunk people think everything’s magic. If you sneezed they’d probably applaud. Maybe you missed your calling there, though. You’re right, you’d be good at it.”

/

Rachel didn't need more than that to guess what kind of cases they took. The expression on his face was enough - and his explanation? They took the kind that would keep people up at night. Universally, this place wasn't as safe for mutants as people might have thought it was. Even with all their power and all the pressure they put on the government to be recognized as people... they were still the other. Still treated like an infection rather than an evolution.

Peace, she reminded herself, was supposed to be the endgame. The option that was achievable - the one that would work. But peace was a large word to swallow when that expression told a thousand stories of cases of violence and horror. Things that didn't make it back to the institute. Things that left scars but didn't make waves. "Sounds like Professor X should be financing a beer budget for this place." Rachel propped herself up on her elbows and arched a brow. "I should take up what? Being a conwoman?" A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. "You can be my manager. If Kitty comes to the door to tell me to stop, you get yelled at - not me."

#rictorscales #julio richter: bartenders

[phoenixtouched]

(✉️ ➡️ Kitty ): This is a situation where I feel like I should ask if you're winking with one eye or two. (✉️ ➡️ Kitty ): Are you stuck in a place I can reach you?

[...] (✉️ ➡️ Kitty ): I could be unstuck nearby. (✉️ ➡️ Kitty ): [unsent] Or this works. Or we could tele-

[...] (✉️ ➡️ Kitty ): [unsent] You need a distraction? I probably shouldn't be asking. (✉️ ➡️ Kitty ): Do you think it would be weird if I brought home a warwolf? It's a baby and I've been feeding her pieces of tofu mom cooked. (✉️ ➡️ Kitty ): It seems to like her cooking, which could save me from a lot of upset stomachs in the near future. (✉️ ➡️ Kitty ): That's not animal cruelty, is it? (✉️ ➡️ Kitty ): Don't tell my mom.

[...] (✉️ ➡️ Kitty ): In their defense, not many people can set the world on fire. (✉️ ➡️ Kitty ): [unsent] Bad joke? (✉️ ➡️ Kitty ): [unsent] I know I'm not there, but you can always reach me. That's so sappy I- (✉️ ➡️ Kitty ): Maybe I'll try my hand at a butter cake, to help you slip out of the stuck places.

@phoenixtouched sent 16﹕ a  flirtatious  text                                             & 17﹕ a  text  during  a  breakdown  /  panic  attack

[📱to Rachel!!!!!!!!! ] hiya, Red! [📱to Rachel!!!!!!!!! ] I’m kind of stuck [📱to Rachel!!!!!!!!! ] and you know what would make this so much better? if I was stuck with you [📱to Rachel!!!!!!!!! ] I’m winking, imagine me winking […]

[…] [📱to Rachel!!!!!!!!! ] okay that was bad [📱to Rachel!!!!!!!!! ] I don’t want you to be stuck, too, just for you to be here […]

[…] [📱to Rachel!!!!!!!!! ] can you just talk to me? [📱to Rachel!!!!!!!!! ] for a bit? [📱to Rachel!!!!!!!!! ] I can’t breathe and it’s getting really cramped and I– [DELETED] [📱to Rachel!!!!!!!!! ] I’ve texted a few people to help get me out of whatever this is, it shouldn’t be too much longer but [📱to Rachel!!!!!!!!! ] can you help me breathe?– [DELETED] [📱to Rachel!!!!!!!!! ] what if I don’t get out and– [DELETED] [📱to Rachel!!!!!!!!! ] Rachel I can’t /breat– [DELETED] [📱to Rachel!!!!!!!!! ] it’s been over an hour and I’m so scared I’m– [DELETED] [📱to Rachel!!!!!!!!! ] fuck I can’t– [DELETED] [📱to Rachel!!!!!!!!! ] but they aren’t /you/

#kxtepryde #kitty pryde: distractions #[ she's doing her best akdsljsdf ]

[phoenixtouched]

There was a sad smile that came over Rachel’s face as she shook her head. She didn’t know that her mother was happy she was here — or that she was the happiest she had been because she was there. She had such little contact with her mother in previous dimensions that she didn’t know what it looked like, what satisfaction or pride looked like on her face. She had imagined that it looked like Rachel’s own expressions, but as everyone kept saying, as much as she looked like her mother and followed in her footsteps, she was her father’s daughter.

The universe made her a near perfect blend of the two of them. “I assumed I was a burden,” she admitted softly. “I met you when you were a teenager once, it was the first time that I ever saw you angry. I couldn’t tell if it was because I existed or because it solidified your relationship with my dad —“ Rachel cut herself offer. “That’s my problem, though, not yours.” Jean, this version of her mother, didn’t deserve to be compared and expected to act like other versions Rachel had met. “I kept my distance as much as I did because I expected it to be the same here.” The resentment that Rachel had found in every other iteration. How was this one so perfect? “I’m sorry.”

you’re here and that is enough. || @phoenixtouched

They were always too short on something. Time. Experience. Faith. The X-Men were used to working in times of strife of all three, but perhaps they’d grown a little too used to prosperity since Genosha grew its roots. The city continued to grow exponentially, faster than any before it in history, and Jean could only imagine generations after her growing up knowing only a place where mutants could be safe to live together. They’d accomplished the impossible – she’d accomplished the impossible – and yet, sitting beside her own flesh and blood, she had no idea what to say.

When she put that feeling into words, the silence grew between them like something insidious. Jean wished she’d never spoken at all, though they’d broached this subject before; the awkwardness that only grew as they realised neither of them knew how to do this. A mother and daughter, both stumbling through in the dark. But then Rachel shifted beside her on the bench, and she said that, and Jean looked up at her. “I feel the same way,” she admitted, quietly. All the complications, all the obvious issues, all the feelings Rachel dredged up with her presence … “You know how glad I am that you’re here, right?” she asked. (How could she know? Jean had never said it before, never even alluded to it.) “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, because of you.”

#jeaniegreysummers #jean summers: distance

[phoenixtouched]

Rictor was usually the one with the vocal crisis. He’d look into the distance while they were on a roof, and they’d talk about something that they’d never talk about when looking each other in the eye. And this time, it was Rachel’s turn. Sprawled out on the couch that wasn’t hers in an apartment that was open (as Rictor described it at least) to anyone who wanted to stay. But it wasn’t hers. It was just… there. Just like she was just there. Existing in an undefined space. Unsure of what she was doing or who she was supposed to be.

“Is this place ever open?” She asked, waving vaguely to the closed sign as Rictor started trying to ‘give her purpose.’ But she made no moves towards the fridge. It was a nice attempt though, but it was hardly an inspiring one. “If I wanted to serve alcohol, I’d be a bartender. I could be so rich. Imagine me telling people I could guess their favorite drink without them telling me. Drunk people would over tip thinking I was magic.”

i have absolutely no purpose at all. // @phoenixtouched​

Julio Richter was, arguably, the absolute worst person to come to in the midst of an existential crisis. And he knew it. He wasn’t someone who knew how to help with that sort of thing. It was one area, he supposed, where experience did not make a person qualified to offer advice. Because while Ric had had more than his fair share of crises, existential or otherwise, he’d never actually… solved one. But Rachel knew that. Better than most, really. 

“You and me both,” Rictor chimed in, holding his beer up in the air from where he lay sprawled on his desk in the corner of the XFI office. The sign was flipped to closed even though he could see that they’d forgotten to lock the door again, but he doubted anyone was going to walk in. “But, hey, if you want a purpose, you could see if we’ve got any more beer in the fridge. I think Madrox bought a six pack that he totally won’t mind sharing.”

#rictorscales #julio richter: bartenders

[phoenixtouched]

i would go anywhere in the world with you.

@kxtepryde

Rachel’s feet were dangling off the edge of the roof. This had been a frequent spot for her in the past to get away and breathe. But where this would have been a desperate attempt to get away - tonight, it was comfortable. A space of safety where Rachel felt like she was allowed to exist. And Kitty’s contribution only cemented that feeling. “Anywhere?” Rachel was looking toward the stars, her voice as distant as the destinations she was considering.

“Does it still feel like I have a foot out the door?” She looked at Kitty fully now, pulling herself out of the daydream she had allowed herself to get lost in. “Because I don’t.” She hoped she didn’t have to say it, but for all the things she had hoped she didn’t need to explain or say - she had left too much written between the lines, hoping that Kitty would catch the hints and the feelings left behind in the fragments. “If I get to pick where I call home, I think this is a good place.” With good people.

#kxtepryde #kitty pryde: the world

[phoenixtouched]

All the advice that Rachel had passed out like candy over the last few months about facing what you’ve done and apologizing for it to open that dialogue — Rachel had been a coward when it came to Miguel. He had told her to never show her face again, and she had taken those words right to the heart. So much so that she ducked out of Danny’s wedding because she didn’t want to cause a scene with him. (And she didn’t know if she would have shown up at all if she had known he would be in attendance.)

“For all that I’ve done, yes. And for everything else that was done to you.” Because while she wasn’t the only hand that had been involved in his harm, she knew enough about the rest of it to pity him. Which was almost funny considering how much she hated it when people looked at her like she was a wounded animal. But she was also much quicker to stop limping than he was.

“Then don’t accept it,” she said flatly. “Don’t forgive me. Don’t listen. I listened to you. You got to say your piece, and you got to tell me to shove myself in a hole and stay away and—” Rachel paused, shaking her head before steadying her voice. “Of all the pain I caused, the worst I did was to myself by listening to other people. By allowing others to control me when I fully had my mind.” People like him. Not that she said it out loud. “Why are you the only one allowed to heal? Why do you get to make the rules?”

i’m sorry for what you’ve been through. i’m really, really sorry. // @phoenixtouched​

Miguel liked to think he was good under pressure. He kind of had to be, to keep Tyler Stone from figuring out the masked vigilante he had the Public Eye pursuing throughout the city was the same guy who rolled into work a half hour late with a chip on his shoulder. He liked to think he was the kind of guy who could handle most things life threw at him.

But the Hound always threw him for a loop.

The last time he’d trusted that she’d changed for the better, he wound up locked in an elevator with her, threats hanging heavy over his head. And maybe it wasn’t fair to judge her for that, considering the state of things at the time, but… Well. If there was one thing Miguel O’Hara was good at, it was nursing a damn grudge. That was why he froze up at the sight of her. It wasn’t fear. It couldn’t be that. It was just… pettiness. That was all. 

“You mean what you put me through,” he asked sharply, “or something else? Because I gotta say, I’m not really interested in apologies from you.”

#twentyninetynines #miguel o'hara: rules

[phoenixtouched]

[ text ]: I replaced your apple juice with whiskey six months ago.

@rictorscales

(✉️ ➡️ Rictor ): I know. (✉️ ➡️ Rictor ): That's why I make eye contact with you when I drink it. (✉️ ➡️ Rictor ): I would never describe you as "subtle." (✉️ ➡️ Rictor ): But don't tell Kitty, she'll probably confiscate it.

#rictorscales #julio richter: apple whiskey

[phoenixtouched]

" you don’t have to say anything. "

@kxtepryde

“Afraid I’ll make another ghost joke?” Rachel asked, grinning just slightly. It had been a year, hadn’t it? An entire year of being here and it was finally starting to feel like home. Filled with people she knew and people who she cared about and cared about her in turn. It didn’t dampen the fear that lingered, the thought that the Phoenix might flare-up in the middle of the night and drag her away to another dimension — but it was easier to forget those worries now. Easier to close her eyes at night and not have nightmares of a life she had left behind long ago. “I thought my joke was top-notch.”

A beat passed. Short and sweet before Rachel was leaning back, looking up at the sky and wondering what it’d look like next year. And if she’d be here. How many loose threads might she leave behind when she went? How much life would she have avoided by being too cautious? By being too afraid? “I know I don’t,” she finally replied, her voice dropping to a whisper. “But I’ve done a lot of that recently. A lot of… not talking. I’m not sure that was the right way to go anymore.” A touch of guilt marked her words. “Everyone is afraid of death — but how many are afraid to live?” How many stood frozen in front of their possibilities like Rachel had?

#kxtepryde #kitty pryde: life

[phoenixtouched]

“  i’ll always be here when you need me.  ”

@firstxman​

It was too easy to watch others take this for granted. To have a figure in their lives that someone else didn’t have and brush off the meaning of the words. But Rachel had a life, a few of them, without her father. Without her mother. Without so many people that she had here. Everything the world took for granted was something that Rachel had to fight for. And being handed it — being told in a few short words that she wasn’t alone, that she could lean on someone — on her father — it meant something. Even if Rachel couldn’t put it into words the way she wished.

The worst part was that without her saying it — he’d never know how grateful she was for that. Not really. And maybe not at all with the way she often received his warmth. It wasn’t like the way she acted when her mother eased into a relationship. She hadn’t told him about all his failures in the past like she had shared with Jean. (Was that better or worse? Kindness or cruelty?)

Pressing her lips together, Rachel gave a firm nod, not sure how to open that door without letting in too much — or letting out too much. “Thanks.” The word was awkward and choked. “But maybe we should stick to promises we can keep.” A poor joke, but the track record in their family was… not great. And they were painfully aware of it. (Hopefully enough that she could get a laugh about of him for this.) “Maybe a promise for… something to eat when mom cooks? Under the table?”

#firstxman #scott summers: under the table

[phoenixtouched]

“I don’t think I’d ever give you a whole kidney or something, but you could definitely have part of my liver if you ever needed it because I heard those grow back.”

@impulselantern​

Rachel didn’t know if this was supposed to be a gesture of friendship, or if Simon had really lost his mind in the last drink he had. And any normal person would have told him that was nice of him — the level of friendship and care that it took to offer a piece of yourself to keep another alive if they needed it — it was big. Even though she had seen enough TV dramas to know that some people expected that level of care. It was big to her. Especially coming from someone she had met within the last year. But even with the kind words, Rachel hummed and wrinkled jher nose.

“You have two kidneys,” Rachel reminded. “It’s a redundant organ. Why do you need two?” And then, she looked at the drink her hand and looked at him, feigning being horrified. “Do you think I’m going to need another liver? If I had a problem you’d tell me right? You’d give me part of your liver so you better tell me.”

#impulselantern #simon baz: spare parts

[phoenixtouched]

(✉️ ➡️ Rictor ): No. (✉️ ➡️ Rictor ): And cats are... (✉️ ➡️ Rictor ): If Misha didn't want to watch that garbage with you, I think you'd have a matching look with Cable. :) (✉️ ➡️ Rictor ): A lovely eyepatch. (✉️ ➡️ Rictor ): You watch the forking Good Place? (✉️ ➡️ Rictor ): I take it back, it's not garbage. You're giving her quality TV. If she has an issue she can take it to the next room.

@phoenixtouched

(✉️ ➡️ cable adjacent): does your telepathy thing work on animals (✉️ ➡️ cable adjacent): i forgot to ask mischa what she thinks about sitcoms, and i don’t want to fuckin torture her with them if she hates them (✉️ ➡️ cable adjacent): [UNSENT] but i kind of need to sit on the couch and not move for a while, so i need something on the tv in the background so that if somebody comes by i can pretend i’m just watching it and not- (✉️ ➡️ cable adjacent): so if you could read her tiny little cat mind and let me know if she’s gonna claw up my sofa if i turn on the good place, that would be fucking sweet

#rictorscales #julio richter: sitcoms

[phoenixtouched]

“Is there a difference in killing people for you or killing people in your name — or is that up for personal discretion?” From the way he spoke, she figured a lot of it was personal morals. She stared up at the sky, watching the leaves in the wind and listening to the sounds of people and animals nearby, tiny things that spoke to the life of the city despite everything that had happened here. It had survived. They had survived.

“Have you been talking to my dad?” Rachel didn’t hesitate to force that connection in her mind. He had been one of the first to tell her outright that she didn’t have to make herself suffer for what had happened in the past. That she accomplished nothing by torturing herself — and he would have asked the same question: how many lives would she take to save her own? She’d protect her friends without a second thought, but would she give that same energy to herself? The answer was simple. No. None. “We’re not talking about me here.”

“I’d kill for you, not like a lot of people. Maybe like six or seven, but that’s definitely more than I would kill for myself!” // @phoenixtouched

It was an unexpected offer, to be sure. Simon snorted at Rachel’s words, turning to her to raise a brow. They were in Central Park, laying in the grass because after everything, he suspected, they both really needed a damn break. The Halloween chaos might have been ultimately harmless, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t damn exhausting.

“You know, I really appreciate that, but I’d kind of prefer you not kill people for me,” Simon replied, tone light. “Not exactly the same as killing them myself, but it might make Yawm al-Din a little awkward, you know?” He paused, drumming his fingers against his thighs. “How many would you kill for yourself?”

#impulselantern #simon baz: self care

[phoenixtouched]

jeaniegreysummers​:

“I don’t know if I’m the best person to talk about connecting with family,” Jean admitted, moving to ladle out some vegetables onto their plate, topping them up from where they’d eaten through already. She couldn’t do much to make things easier on Rachel, couldn’t be anything close to the mother that she thought she should be, but she could feed her. At least that was something. “I ate dinner every night with my parents, but when I left for the Institute, we didn’t talk for years at a time.” Even when they did, it had been a courtesy phone call – or even worse, one where Jean only phoned to get information so she could apply to medical school, like asking for her birth certificate (that her father couldn’t find) or details of her vaccinations.

She’d connected with people outside of her blood, of course, and connected with them well. She’d formed sisterhoods and brought Illyana under her wing, and she told herself that proved that she was capable of having a family – but it was always different when she saw her own eyes reflected back. “Yes,” Jean said, lowering her hand slowly from where she had been working on the meal, because she knew something was coming from the way Rachel’s laugh was barbed at the edges. She stood there, and she wanted to argue against it, wanted to say of course she wanted everything to do with you. She wanted to say that none of that was true here, that she was the perfect, doting mother this woman deserved, that she was the wife she was supposed to be to Scott, who seemed to be doing this all so easily …

But she couldn’t. She stood there, silent and her shoulders aching with how tightly she was maintaining her posture. “I–” Jean licked out over her lips, dropping her gaze back to the pot of food that was now slowly burning. She didn’t care enough to move it from the hob. “It takes some adjusting,” she said, finally. If cruelly honest was what they were going for, then here it was. “You’re never something I thought I would have, Rachel, and you … You have the Phoenix, or she has you, I don’t know. And I don’t know why those other Jeans acted how they did, but I know that when I look at you–” Jean sucked in a breath. “I don’t know what to do to stop you from going through the same things I did.”

There was a lot that was hidden in the distance between them. A thousand more questions that Rachel figured she’d never get answered. And Jean might not ever ask. It was easier in the moment to pretend those things didn’t tear at the edges of whatever was forming here, but when Rachel wasn’t looking her mom in the eyes? That was when the resentment grew. In conversations like this, it was easier for her to pull away and say next time. But next time just repeated every other awkward time. Like now – what was she supposed to tell her mom? That she died so young that Rachel didn’t know her outside of stories other people told about her?

The words that came out… they were exactly what Rachel had meant, but that didn’t stop her from noticing the stiffness in Jean’s posture. It didn’t stop her from wishing she hadn’t said anything at all. She had highlighted that distance she had and thrown it in her face. But it was the most honest thing she had said since she had gotten here. (And maybe it was the most honest she had been to herself about her feelings.)

“I have her.” It might have seemed like over confidence on Rachel’s part, but she did credit a lot of her knowledge and power in her own relationship with the Phoenix to her mother – and to Maddie to some degree. “I begged for her. A chance to prove myself – a chance to be—” just like you. That is what her life had come down to back then. All the lines that people drew between her and her mom, telling her how she looked just like Jean. How she sounded like her, how they missed her. And Rachel tried to fill that hole in their lives. (Another root of resentment that Rachel had dove into.) “Is that what you would want?” She looked her in the eyes. “To be protected? Shielded from everything? Is that what you would want?” Maybe this Jean hadn’t birthed her, but she had gone much further to try and be a parent than any other version that Rachel had run into. “It’s too late for that.” Honest or cruel? “You think I look at you like you died and left – like I’m mourning you. Put the shoes on yourself. You look at me like you failed me when you didn’t – when you don’t know me. You’re too busy ‘protecting’ me to see me.”

#jeaniegreysummers #jean summers: dinner

[phoenixtouched]

“Oh my god, you're bleeding!”

@stxrsfires

It had happened quickly. A fight with something - Rachel didn't think it was human. It wasn't dense enough. Maybe mutant? Not one that she recognized. Whatever it was, it was gone now. Someone had flown down and dispatched it after Rachel had taken a direct hit, she didn't even realize she was bleeding until her savior started speaking. Pulled from her questions about origin and her confusion about what she had just witnessed - she looked at the woman and then down at her hand that was clamped to her side.

She didn't even realize it.

It hurt now that she was looking at it. (Funny how that happens.) Blood leaked through her fingers and was trailing down the left side of her body. "Oh. I didn't..." Her voice wavered and Rachel tried to clear her voice. Tried to put on a show that she was normal and everything was fine. "It's just a scratch," she offered breathlessly. "It's fine."

#stxrsfires #koriand'r: scratches #blood tw #[ this is just pure drama LMAO sorry ]

[phoenixtouched]

immortalweapon​:

Danny was smiling so wide it hurt a little. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever felt this light, this happy. Maybe he never had. The fact that someone he’d really only met once could look at him and Colleen and know how much they cared for one another made his chest feel warm, made him feel like he was walking on air. “Thank you,” he said, a little breathless with his own joy. “It’s like — It’s everything. This is everything, you know?” Being with Colleen, agreeing to stay together for the rest of their lives… It wasn’t the kind of fairytale he’d allowed himself to imagine for his future in K’un Lun. The fact that he had it now felt like a dream, most days. Today especially. 

“Oh,” his forehead wrinkled as he thought it over, trying to figure out which part of his advice hadn’t been good. “Does she not like grand gestures? Do you need something smaller?” Grand gestures were Danny’s preferred type, and Colleen never seemed to mind them, but… Everyone was different. He’d skimmed through a book once about love languages, about how every person had something different that made them feel safe and cared for. “Oh. Right. I knew that.” He didn’t, but he didn’t think Rachel would call him out on it here. Normal suggestions. Danny considered it. “Maybe… something personal? I ordered Colleen food from my dad’s favorite restaurant when I was getting to know her. Like… sharing a part of yourself and your history with her. Like that.”

/

Rachel didn’t know that feeling, but Danny was beaming and even if she didn’t have personal experience with that kind of happiness, she understood what he was feeling. It was coming off of him in waves. This feeling of a perfect moment, just pure bliss that came with being with someone he loved. Rachel would have been lying if she didn’t admit, at least to herself, that she was a little jealous. “When you put it that way, it sounds magical.”

With a strained laugh, Rachel shrugged, trying not to soften the feelings she had about Danny’s idea — trying not to hurt him. (He was fairly sensitive.) “It’s not really my thing either.” Her idea of a romantic gesture was to do nothing at all. Or maybe it was leaving dramatically and making the people in her life wish they had more time with her? Hands in her coat pocket, Rachel offered Danny a smile. Not calling him out, but feeling a sense of comradery in not knowing the popular media of this time. (What would be the chances that someone else at this party — outside of her and Miguel — didn’t quite fit into the modern mold?) “Sharing a part of myself…” Rachel repeated, almost laughing because her parents had given her the same advice. Don’t hide anything. Even with their mental connection, they both had so many secrets. So much that Rachel shied away from. (But what did she have that didn’t make her feel empty?) “Guess I should find a better hobby than saying no all the time.”

#immortalweapon #danny rand: wedding