Just sos you knows, AO3 is down under a DDOS attack right now. They’ve been coming back in little blips and then disappearing again. It’s been several hours. (For reference, it’s currently 3 p.m. eastern, July 10, 2023.)
The culprit (as with a few other DDOS attacks recently) is Anonymous Sudan, a group that is likely Russian, not Sudanese. The ‘reason’ they gave–that AO3 is “full of disgusting smuts and other LGBTQ+ and NSFW things,” is thin and probably not completely legit, though still legitimately concerning.
The AS claim: https://twitter.com/FalconFeedsio/status/1678397195039526912
Reporting on AS: https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2023-06-28/anonymous-sudan-does-group-behind-microsoft-cyberattack-have-ties-to-russia (you can use archive.ph to get this one, 12ft doesn’t seem to work)
As noted here, https://twitter.com/honeyskeleton/status/1678449598703050769:
DDOS protection is expensive especially for a high traffic site like ao3. And it’s uniquely vulnerable as an independent site without ads or other corporate support. SPECIFICALLY targeted bc of its queer works and yet ppl will still complain every time they ask for donations lmao
So, again, when AO3 comes back online, please don’t go hard with refreshing all your tabs. Please do remember to download fics you love early and often as you continue in your whole ~reading journey~. And please do support AO3 through a dono or becoming a donating member, if it is possible for you to do so.
unintentionally caressing each other where Carrillo and Reader are too proud to take the first step, and every interaction between them is too awkward??? I love the idea of thirtysomethings being silly when they're in love
It’s a thing to behold: two hyper-competent people like you and Colonel Carrillo rendered awkward and near-stupid when you’re in each other’s presence.
Javier isn’t sure which is worse—that the two of you clearly feel something for each other…or that you both think no one notices.
It doesn’t help that you and Carrillo are the same sort: obsessively driven, which means you both suppress your feelings. Obsessively rigid, which means you both pretend not to care about the other since it could be construed as a breach of conduct. Irrationally stubborn, which means you each seem to be waiting for the other to give in first.
Javi eventually decides: it’s worse that you think no one notices. It’s worse because it’s not blatant, exactly…but the two of you always seem to touch, and he’s not even sure either of you realize it.
He has so many examples he’s witnessed. There’s the time you started to break cover in an alleyway shootout—how Carrillo laid a big hand on your tac vest, tugged you back to safety…and then left his hand there on your back, his fingers splayed for a moment before drawing away.
Or the time everyone went out for drinks at a crowded cantina, and how everyone crammed into a corner booth. You had sat beside Carrillo. In the shadows of the bar, Javi could just make out the way the Colonel’s arm was draped over the back of the booth, the tips of his fingers barely grazing your shoulder.
Javi would have bet anything that your hand under the table rested on Carrillo’s thigh, just as lightly, just as unconsciously.
Or the time Carrillo got scuffed up in the jungle, a nasty scrape on his temple that oozed blood. You had forced him to perch on the bumper of the Jeep afterwards, swabbed him with peroxide, bandaged him up. No big deal—you’d done the same with Javi a time or two.
But you’d never been so lingering with Javi. That moment in the jungle, Javi felt like a voyeur, spying on a private moment in the middle of a Search Bloc operation. You didn’t seem to be aware of how your free hand rested on Carrillo’s shoulder, how close you stood between his spread legs. And Carrillo didn’t seem aware of how his hand was hooked around your wrist, holding you steady.
When Javi looked closer, he saw how the Colonel’s thumb drew soft little circles against the bare skin of your wrist.
And when Trujillo walked up to the two of you, you parted—Carrillo dropping his hold, you stepping away—but neither of you seemed to have an ounce of awareness that you’d been touching.
Grogu is my apprentice. He is no longer a foundling. Add him to the Song. — He is too young to speak, so he is too young to take the Creed. — If his parent gave permission, couldn’t he then become a Mandalorian apprentice? — Yes, but his parents are far from here, if they are even alive.
baratheonpilled
janainaart
blakekathryn
yousharknotpass
