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reverieblondie · 5 months

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Be Sweet to Me

Chapter 1

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara X Fem!reader

Warnings: None for this chapter, but there will be eventual smut, Pining, and teasing. For now- Fluff and Miguel struggles with grumpiness and realizing his touched started, but he's just over worked. Alternating POVs

Summary: People say many things about you're co-worker, and sure he's not the most social but you won't give up being friends with him! Little do you know Miguel is juggling so much in his life, and getting used to you is proving to be more difficult than he thought.

A/N: I am so excited to be finally be making this series! The Alternating pov's is different than what I normal do, but I think it works best for this story! This is heavily influenced by the song Be Sweet by Japanese Breakfast. Unsure how many chapters this will be, so look out for updates! if you would like to be tagged please comment to let me know!

Word count: 3,447

Part 2

“Y/n, I need you to organize the samples and make sure that all the documents are in order before the meeting.”

Giving a slight huff you stop your work, turning on your heels to face your coworker.

“Okay, but what's the magic word?” you playfully tease with the slightest hint of condensation.

Turning his head you see the unenthused glare in his eyes despite them being shaded behind the round tinted glass. You're still not fully convinced he needs those things inside, some kind of light sensitivity he's explained once but you suspect he might just like the cool guy aesthetic it gives him. Though you wouldn’t blame him if that was truly the case, it does look kinda cool.

Face scrunched in that way you have gotten used to seeing over these past few months since working here at Alchemax. Chiseled jaw clenched shut, his full lips pressed in that iconic frown, thick brown hair styled back to try and tame the unruly waves, and tall bulky figure that you used to be intimidated by, (okay, sometimes you still are) but you have slowly adjusted to your co-worker: Miguel O’Hara.

He stared at you for a beat before turning back to his work without another word, his oh-so-subtle way of telling you to shut it and do as you're told. “Alright alright, I’ll get it done. Don’t have to tell me twice.”

One thing you have learned about working with Miguel is he may not always speak with words so if you want to create an effective work area with him you have got to be good at reading his expressions. Working with a guy like Miguel had its challenges, for one his mood: he's not exactly the easiest to get along with, and people call him cold or cocky depending on the day.

Then there was how busy he kept himself, always working on something, typing on screens, working with experiments, or tapping away at that clunky watch of his. Even on the days he’s not around due to him ‘working from home’ you can tell just by his face that he hadn’t given himself time to rest. What on earth could keep a man so busy? Well…you had an idea or two…

Despite his grumpy demeanor you were determined to become friends with Miguel. It didn’t matter what others would tell you about him or how much he distanced himself, you saw the subtle glances, the repressing of smiles, the slight cracks in the shell, You two would become buddies you were sure of it. Maybe he just needed someone to show him the effort, to be sweet to him, then maybe he could lighten up and bring his walls down.

Pulling out all the stops nothing was going to stop your attempts, you were always nice (even on days where that was particularly hard) Helping with things he didn’t ask of you, organizing and cleaning up behind him. Coffee was always a winner, you knew exactly how he liked it too, you kept making different attempts then stopped on the one where he wasn’t making a face while he took his first sip. -Success!

Then there was the friendly encouragement, pats on the shoulder, and high fives. Sure he seemed hesitant to them at first but he slowly became used to them, baby steps.

Every passing day was closer and closer to your friendship blossoming!

Magic word…was she serious? Why should he say please? It's her job to listen to what he tells her and do what he says considering he’s worked here longer. Miguel keeps typing away at his computer, lamenting in his mind how his co-worker was quite the character.

Miguel couldn’t deny that having a co-worker who was tasked to help him in all his research did help him out more than he would ever admit. Having to juggle the secret identity of Spider-Man, being the leader of the spider society protecting the multiverse, and having to keep his role as head geneticist in Alchemax. Everything could get taxing very quickly on him. Layla was a great AI assistant but she was limited, so having an actual person tagging along to help him with work was bearable, though…you were a bit exuberant and that was taking some getting used to.

The jokes, the odd habits, your clumsiness, the smart remarks you mumbled under your breath, your overwhelming friendliness. All this he could begrudgingly handle, but the thing that was still overwhelming him was the touching! Sometimes it wasn’t even touching at all you would just be so close.

First noticing it when you would stand so close that he would accidentally bump into you, if he was looking at a sample you were leaning over him to watch. You had no spatial awareness, running into him, running into things! The first month of you working here you broke so many things by running into them he thought they would run out of beakers.

Then the friendly gestures started happening. Miguel was used to people keeping their distance, meeting his gruffness, but you…oh no…you must have seen it has some challenge! The encouraging words, patting of his shoulder, spontaneous high fives, squeezing past him in tight areas, adjusting his coat for him, dusting off crumbs from his chest! Your Friendly proximity made him tense, it was…new and different, and he didn’t know how to handle it.

Though it could be worse, you could be a completely useless idiot. To Miguel’s surprise you did have a brain in that head of yours, so the trade-off for actual decent help was some playfulness from you he would just deal. It’s not like he wasn’t used to playful coworkers, the spider society made sure of that. Still, you were different…and that blossoming tingling your touch would leave on him…it was…annoying.

Miguel's eyes move over to you as he watches you begin the task of organizing the samples and getting everything prepared for the meeting. Begrudgingly he was tasked with having to explain the recent studies and developments the two of you had made. The meeting was honestly bullshit, he hated having to report to the chairman, but they liked to keep a thumb on Miguel, making sure he was still their best brain. In fact, you had offered to take over and run over the presentation for Miguel but they denied that, had to be him…bastards

For a moment you turn your head and look towards Miguel meeting his eyes, you shoot him a thumbs up and a smile, that friendliness still shining through. With an annoyed huff, he turns away getting back to his work. Still adjusting…

The two of you worked diligently for a couple of hours, in silence of course, there was no time to get distracted with chatting when so much needed to be done. Rubbing his hands over his face he could feel a wave of extortion taking over him. Sleep was something he wasn’t getting regularly, there was just never enough time in the day so sacrifices must be made.

Eyes growing heavy and vision slightly blurring he feels himself slipping, but he can’t, he won't. Then a shrill alarm begins to blare from Miguel's wrist snapping him back awake. Miguel is quick to place his hand over his watch and sneak out of the lab unnoticed, lucky for him you were too concentrated on your work to notice his absence. Checking the message on his watch, it is a local emergency, something he can handle in fifteen minutes tops. With a quick few cracks of his neck, he's leaving to save the city again.

Stretching feeling accomplished in yourself getting everything prepped single-handedly. Roaming your eyes around the lab you note the lack of bulk in the room. Huh, no Miguel? He must have done one of his disappearing acts again, probably just going to lunch without you. Invite yourself to lunch with him one time and now he doesn't even tell you when he's going. Matters on that guy, oh well, you might as well go get something before the meeting anyway. Coming to a stopping point you gather your things for a nice quick bite in the cafeteria.

“I can’t see how you can work with him.” Ah, so much for a nice quick bite…

Sitting there trying to enjoy your lunch it’s the usual suspects who come to sit next to you, talking more at you and around you rather than to you. You can’t help but think that this annoying tinge you feel is what Miguel felt when he was ambushed by you. Though you couldn’t have been as annoying as these people. Complainy and gossipy types are not the best combos with your meal.

Their subjects range from many topics like complaining about work, to failed experiments, personal problems, idol gossip, then it lands to the one directly aimed at you…Miguel. As soon as the question is asked you're looking up from your food to see all eyes on you. Chewing quickly and swallowing to ask your question.

“I’m sorry what?”

Sophia groans, “O’Hara, how can you work with him?”

“Uh, well he does his thing, I do mine?”

Julius chimes in “Isn’t he a total dick to you though?”

Cassidy is now giving her input to the topic, “Oh I can only imagine what you go through on the daily.”

“Well ac-” trying to interject, you can’t even get a word in till you're being cut off by one of them.

“Yeah! Like I bet he is always bossing you around.”

“And probably insulting you in some way,”

“One time he called my team brainless idiots because we messed up one small thing” -it was not a small thing, that took you and him an all-nighter to fix…

“That was-” you try again only to be cut off once more.

“Oh, and he is always being rude!”

“God, how can you work with that monster!”

With that last comment you had it, the noise wasn’t meant to be as forceful as it came out but they kept cutting you off and then bad-talking your research partner, you were fed up. Slamming your hands on the table with a hash slap, effectively silencing them, you rise from your seat grabbing your tray in the process.

“If you have issues with him you should speak to him like he’s a person. He’s not some monster. Sure, he is not exactly social, but if this is how people talk about him behind his back it makes sense why he keeps his distance... I've lost my appetite, excuse me…”

With that, your lunch break was over.

“Spider-Man!”

“You saved us!”

“He’s a hero!”

“But…he’s kinda a jerk…”

“Didn’t he punch an old lady before?”

“I thought she punched him?”

Uhhgg…would anyone ever get that story right? Miguel is prying the last bus hostage off him as they cling tightly to him. The vulture from his dimension was up to his usual antics but he made quick work of him and was now cleaning up the shocking mess. Having to save the people from the bus was no big deal, it was the pushy reporters, camera lights flickering in his face and the clingy person keeping themselves pressed to him that was the pain to deal with. Taking deep breaths he’s trying to keep his cool, but he can feel himself threatening to boil over.

How come he can’t just ever save people and leave? Why was there always this extra crap to deal with? Finally getting the person off and seeing that all of what he could do was done he's trying to get out of there, but people can be so pushy…

Questions, Comments, Flashing lights, Praise, Criticism…he couldn’t help but snap,

“Get out of my way! Leave me alone! And for shock's sake, try to learn to protect yourselves!”

The crowd was shocked by this sudden outburst, but this should have come as no surprise from the grouchy hero. Spider-Mans in other dimensions were always known for being friendly, witty, funny, and nice to all they saved, Miguel didn’t exactly follow this blueprint. Miguel didn’t exactly mean to sound rude, just being a hero gets exhausting and patience was something he needed to work on.

Miguel hears the gasp and murmurs amongst themselves about how he’s a dick, a jerk, arrogant, blah, blah…

Rolling his eyes, hidden underneath his mask he couldn't help but think of how irrational these people could be, say one thing the public wasn’t fond of and they are at your throat. It’s all of a sudden no longer how he just saved a busload of people, or saved the city by defeating a villain; No, now it’s about how rude he was.

“Jerk!”

“Boo!”

“I hate you Spider-man!” -great…this just makes everything so much better with this thankless job.

Swing off before the police come to further irritate him. As he swings back to Alchemax he’s wrapped up in his thoughts. This hero thing was not easy…everything he did wasn’t right, not what people wanted…he was always messing up in some way…nothing was ever good enough, he had to stretch himself thinner and thinner, keeping everything together. The pressure is immense…

Getting back to Alchemax, he changes and tries to resume back to his work, the fight had successfully woken him up but now he’s starving. Eating like sleep has also become a thing he has had to cut for the sake of time, but something quick should be fine before he gets back to work.

Stopping by the cafeteria Miguel immediately spots you sat by Sophia, Julius, and Cassidy, not good company for you to keep. Well honestly anyone, they might catch their stupid. Making sure to be as unnoticed as possible last thing he needs is you trying to wave him over to your table. Coffee with a bagel is all he needs to grab so he can make his escape back to the lab. Grabbing a coffee that thankfully wasn't made by you, his sensitive ears can’t help but catch what's being said at your table. No surprise it’s about him.

Listening in he is catching fragments of the conversation sipping his coffee trying his best to ignore the meaningless conversation, till a remark of him makes him pause at the threshold of the entryway.

“How can you work with that monster!”

Monster…huh…is that how people see him? Mutated, sure, grouchy, and tempestuous maybe, But a monster. A ping in his chest makes his hands tighten around the cup. Talons threatens to poke through but he resists. If they want to see him as a monster then so be it…he doesn't care…

Suddenly, a slam, followed by your familiar voice catches him by surprise,

“He’s not some monster. Sure, he is not exactly social, but if this is how people talk about him behind his back it makes sense why he keeps his distance”

“Not some monster…” Your words can’t be helped from echoing through his head. You sound so angry, you never sound angry. Looking over he sees your face furrowed in a glare. He didn’t think your face knew how to do that. Watching as you walk away in a haste away from the table he's leaving to his usual eating spot hidden away from others.

Taking his shades off in the empty break room he dims the lights down as he sinks into one of the chairs. Finally getting even a moment of a break, even taking time to peacefully relax he finds he is unable to. Even sitting leaning back he still feels teased, irritated, stressed. Trying to shut his mind for even a moment, a second of a break he finds it to be an impossible task. But as he sits, his usual stresses fade to be replaced by your words. Miguel could have cared less about what those idiots had to say about him. The surprising thing was that you were defending him…not that he needed it… but it was…kind of you…

Taking a bite out of the bland bagel he groans to himself, annoyed.

It's almost time for the meeting and you're pacing outside the doors with everything ready to go, except you haven’t seen Miguel anywhere. Running behind is a thing you are not used to from him, he’s usually so timely but you haven’t seen him at all since he left for what you thought was lunch. Did he get caught up doing something else?

Minutes tick by and you're growing more anxious by the second. Would he just not show up? It’s a possibility, but he would be putting both your asses on the line, though he didn’t have to worry much about that, they wouldn’t fire their best brain, but…you're a bit more expendable.

Before you can continue thinking about your ass being on the chopping block Miguel is rounding the corner adjusting his coat and walking in a casual strut. Looking at him as he approaches you notice his appearance looks a bit different. That shirt does seem a bit wrinkled and his tie is completely messed up from earlier. What has he been doing? Mid-day workout? Did he have an accident in the lab and have to go change? But the clothes are the same, just wrinkled.

Or was he doing something else… Thinking for a moment over what you could be doing that would cause messed up clothes an image of a sweaty grunting Miguel pops into your brain. Pushing down the thought with an internal slap to yourself you decide to greet him as friendly as possible.

“You're running behind Miguel” -okay you can’t help but tease him a bit. Friends rass each other all the time.

“Yeah, got…caught up in something…” he speaks hesitantly, suspicious…

Miguel gets ready to go inside but you quickly grab him by the shoulder to get his attention “Hold on there, you can’t go in there looking like that”

Turning to face you, he looks at you confused then looks down at himself, “What? I look fine.”

Scoffing, you roll your eyes and point to his chest where his tie is haphazardly knotted together in a rushed fashion.

“Your tie” Before he can protest your hands are already getting to work losing his tie gently, “Let me help you”

With the silk tie undone hanging down his chest, you're moving your hands to raise his collar. As you concentrate on the task your eyes are fixed on his neck you observe that as your fingers slightly brush over his warm skin his body teases slightly. Straightening his neck, you know he’s about to say something.

“Why are you nice to me? I know what others say about me, so how come? Are you trying to pity me?” His voice is stern and this isn’t what you were expecting out of him right now. Did he hear you earlier?

The slight laugh that escapes you couldn’t be helped. Moving your hands you cross the two ends to tie in a classic Windsor knot. “Leave it to you to think someone being nice to you is just a ruse to pity you. I just want to be nice to you.”

Remaining silent you continue to loop and twist the tie, your knuckles blushing over him, you swear you see his skin pickle up for a moment with a slight shiver. Finishing up, you tighten it to his neck and carefully fold his collar back down, keeping your eyes on your work at hand, you watch as his Adam's apple slightly bobs as you adjust it properly.

Sliding your hands to the silk tie you brush your fingers down the soft fabric straightening it while laying down flat against his chest. The feeling of his chest tightness under your fingertips and his breath seems to be slightly slow, you don’t know if he is hating this or being relaxed by it.

Meeting his eyes, they are unshaded for you to observe their burgundy hue. His face is still stern looking but you know this one has that slight softness in his eyes, meaning his listening, he is waiting for you to speak again.

“I want us to be friends, simple”

Miguel's lips slightly part as if he was about to speak, but before he could the conference room doors opened with them calling Miguel in. Turning to you there is a look on his face you're not completely used to, but that will have to wait for now. Giving a quick pat to his chest you smile up at him.

“You got this Miguel, good luck.”

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ccpowo · 1 year

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Split tongue Mason!!!

Reworked an old Mason drawing yippie

I never really liked the drawing but posted it anyway, so if you saw it, no you did not

I’ve been kinda developing an artstyle as of lately so I’m kinda excited to see where that’s going

I’m also starting to get into resident evil and I finally was able to buy fe3h wooooooo I love Dimitri

Im also really excited for book 3 and I already pit away some cash to buy it as soon as it’s released hehe

Hope all of you had a better New Year’s Eve than me and good luck for the new year! :D

vv kind of a drawing process and the old sketch vv

Glorious first, rough sketch and the nauseating cleaned up sketch (not the finished product I ended up posting, it's not as terrible somehow)

Did all of that on my phone, on ibis paint and did the rest on my iPad, on csp yippie

Idk if anyone cares but I’ll explain my decisions here:

Okay so, the face was just too long, idk why I was so obsessed with giving him a face that long. The mouth looked awkward as well, the overall shape was bad and, even tho I love it when there's gum showing, I don't think it worked in that drawing, the teeth look weirdly long too. The eyebrows do not make sense either, I placed the eyebrow on the side of his face that's being squished by his mouth high while the other one is low. Does not make sense and it's driving me crazy. I also think that the eyes look boring and soulless. I took influence from different comic book artstyles and completely changed the shape of the eyes. I darkened them too to make it look more sinister. The shading on his face isn't too bad but the pillow shading is killing me. The necklace looks bad too, it's very 2 dimensional and looks like it was painted on tbh I just kinda forgot about it and maybe it's better that way. The hair was pretty nice but it didn't really work for what I was going for in my redraw, would've kept it otherwise. The nsoe is just a bit off and the ears look funky. The pose is awkward as well, just kinda looks like he's staring at you, in a weird weird way. It ended up looking more suggestive than intended tbh. There was no line weight at all, glad that I went for something more painterly. I also added the hearts because I thought it'd be cute to add hearts. Who would've thought that adding hearts to a pretty suggestive drawing would make it even more suggestive! I liked them too much so I kept them. In the end I looked up references for some dramatic lightning, added that on a multiply layer, added some grey and orange, put a black and white duplicated layer of the picture on color dodge, 14% opacity, to make the highlights pop and finished it off with a gradient map yippie

#the wayhaven chronicles #twc #wayhaven fanart #twc art #seraphinitegames #interactive fiction #twc mason #mason #wayhaven mason #agent m #my art

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stillness-in-green · 2 years

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Chapter Thoughts: 366 – Full Moon

O I wish I could be more engaged in the business of Shigaraki’s “ideal form.” It’s very hard to get there, though, when my mind is stuck wrestling with questions about the mechanics of the possession and the psychological balance between the relevant parties. Like, if this is a form born from Shigaraki’s psyche—and all the hands and family faces say it is—then why isn't more of Shigaraki apparent in the body's active consciousness? Conversely, if the AFO vestige's will is so overpowering, why doesn’t anything of AFO’s psyche seem to have ever been reflected in the shifting, unsettled form he's currently controlling?

Also, did AFO and Ujiko have any idea this is what the process would look like? I would assume so, since VFO talked some chapters ago about the “ideal form” thing, but while I can buy Ujiko finding this all very fascinating, AFO, who has previously expressed distaste for desperate struggles,(1) seems like he’d find it pretty unsightly, especially as something he might be stuck with himself because of Shigarak’s subconscious!

(Continued under the cut.)

O While I’m on the topic of the mechanics of this body, this whole business of heroes “besting” Shigaraki’s initial form is really poorly expressed. And that’s kinda bizarre! Because, like, okay: during the war? I could believe Shigaraki’s body was having trouble keeping up with the damage there! He developed those awful cracks and fissures, he showed burns, he got thrown around, all of that. It was painful to watch because I was convinced of the pain he was in.

But this? We watched him shrug off a laser canon. Bakugou’s biggest attack left little more than a skid mark on his face. The electrification stopped being relevant approximately two chapters after it was introduced.. Mirko got some good kicks in, though I struggle to understand why they were markedly more effective than Suneater’s attack. A lot of the monster hands have been damaged, sure, but since those were equated with fingernails and hair, I don't see why continuing to blast them apart would have more than a negligible effect.(2)

No part of this is as effectively, convincingly portrayed as the similar fights during the war; indeed, I've spent most of this time thinking the heroes' attacks aren't having much effect explicitly because of things like Mirio and ShigAFO himself saying that Shigaraki's body is just too tough. So to have this magic fiat wand waved over the fight just feels like Horikoshi's trying to—and forgive me the use of this rather loaded term—gaslight me about what's been going on this whole time.

The alleged stress and panic are also murkily expressed. We’ve watched VFO have a fear response to Bakugou, tied in some nebulous way to the second OFA bearer, but because that relationship is still entirely unexplored, we don’t know why it would be causing him to panic. And anyway, the focus of the narration here isn’t even on VFO; it’s on Shigaraki. He certainly has all the reason in the world to feel stressed and panicked, but then I’m right back to the beginning: how can Shigaraki be feeling or influencing much of anything right now when he’s been so thoroughly subsumed by VFO?

And that’s all a shame! Because I truly did have some Feelings upon looking at the hand armor. All that horror, externalized as a defense mechanism, his family’s hands displayed, not as something to disgust and reassure him, their presence entirely a means to steer his emotional state, but rather as something to protect him, to physically shield him against the damage the world is so set on doing to him. It really is incredibly evocative! But it’s evocative of Shigaraki, and if that’s going to be the case, I wish this whole fight could have been with Shigaraki, not with an ever-so-slightly Tomura-shaded All For One.

O Suneater continues to be the character who is Most Shoujo in this Extremely Shounen manga. God, him saying Mirio’s name as Shigaraki’s shadow looms above him, right before the blow lands. GOD. As soon as I parsed that chain of events, I was right back to him startling awake with Mirio’s name on his lips at the exact, simultaneous instant Mirio lost his quirk. They are the Most Valid ship, actually.

O Jeanist interposing himself in between ShigAFO and Bakugou is good stuff, though I can’t help but sigh for the plot we might have had, of a defenseless Jeanist refusing to leave Bakugou’s side even as certain death advances because he’s still weaving Bakugou’s heart fibers back together. Hell, you could even have had Edgeshot’s last stand there, and it still wouldn’t have had much impact, but throw that little flashback to his school days with Jeanist in and the contents of his flashback would have lent more weight to his stand because it would have been in defense of someone he had an actual relationship with,(3) even if that relationship was only revealed at the last second.

Because the Edgeshot stuff continues to be confounding even after the fact, let me add: if Edgeshot’s so capable of mucking around with peoples’ organs, why not go fuck around with Shigaraki’s heart? Are we meant to believe Shigaraki’s body is too tough to pierce? Probably Edgeshot shouldn’t have been the one to take down Re-Destro, then! But even setting aside what seems like it ought to be the relatively similar toughnesses of Re-Destro in full Stress mode and Shigaraki post-surgery, god knows ShigAFO flaps his jaws enough with villain monologues; just go in through his mouth!

See? I wanted to talk about how I like this fight’s Jeanist+Bakugou beats, and I can’t even do that without having to contend with how That Ninja I Hate got shoehorned in in the most awkward way imaginable.

O The only reason I am not going to spend a paragraph harping on the “two seconds” bit is because it’s all internal, and thoughts can process extremely quickly. But it’s cutting it very close, and I am kiiiind of already thinking ahead to the number of seconds the anime is going to require for that scene to get through the voice-acting alone. In fairness, though, Jeanist's more coherent thoughts are confined to only two panels, which are presumably running concurrently with Mirio's higher panel-count but also far more fragmentary monologue. So I can reasonably believe, albeit just barely, that those streams of thoughts could happen in only two seconds.

O The ass joke is a massive tonal swerve, but honestly, I can’t really hold it against the story. Recall that Sir Nighteye’s introduction was him manning a tickle torture machine; the man idolized All Might, whose highest form of humor is puns. Nighteye's sense of humor has never been as dignified as his hero persona, so I 100% believe that he thought Mirio’s butt jokes were hilarious.

Also too, I remember that one of the things Mirio told Deku after Nighteye’s death is that, while Sir might have been harsh with Deku, he actually laughed a lot when it was just him and Mirio, and so I really liked that the little flashback here is consistent with that dynamic.

I do kind of wish Mirio’s face sold the gag better; him looking like he’s on the verge of a hernia kind of detracts from the intended humor, at least to me. It just makes it look effortful, and a good non-sequitur should not look that labored.

ShigAFO’s little puffed exhalation of laughter is funny, though. It reminds me of his little “Tap” sound effect talk bubble back in Deika.

O Deku’s here, biiiiiig whoop. I have all of two thoughts on this:

I wasn't yet doing chapter posts back then, but I called it on the thing Deku was reacting to back in 357 being the Americans’ jets. I assume plenty of other people did too, though; it really was the only even pseudo-reasonable way for him to get to this fight in time with Warp Gate off the table. I imagine we’ll open next week with a flashback to that.

Well, at least we can get on with things here, maybe finally see what, if anything whatsoever, Deku’s going to try on the whole Saving Shigaraki front. “Getting on with things” is about all the positivity I can muster, however, which I think we can all agree is a far cry from the fist-pumping and hollering that was probably the intended response.

More, perhaps, on Deku and the gaping failures of this story’s teamwork narratives next time.

1: Nana, All Might, everything he or his vestige have said about people who lack the power to make a difference.

2: If we were still in the part of the story where caloric intake was a factor in being able to produce physical effects, I might be willing to assume Shigaraki's body was just running low on energy reserves, but the fact that he can still whip out hand armor family puppet battering rams disinclined me to that explanation.

3: I realize there’s emotional weight to be had in sacrifice for an innocent, someone the sacrificer doesn’t even know, solely because it’s the right thing to do, but even that isn’t how the story chose to frame Edgeshot’s sacrifice for Bakugou. It went with the “adults sacrificing for the next generation” angle, which immediately runs into the problem of Bakugou and Edgeshot not even being in a separate generation, age-wise.

#bnha #chapter thoughts #shigaraki tomura #the ua big three #sir nighteye #kvetching about the possession plot #let's go ahead and tag this week with #bnha critical #my writing

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bobbyross0214 · 7 months

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Her

I saw her in class on day 1. She seemed pretty cool, my first thought was to maybe be her friend. But i wasn’t sure, she was def the cool girl that hates teachers that do too much, and is probably kinda cute. Not sure about that last part though, she has a mask on. Her hair is amazing though.

We finally had our first conversation and it was amazing. Sure, it was over text, but it was for sure worth it. I had asked the home girl to ask her for her number and pass it here for me, and she did. N e ways, she’s such a nerd. The convo was literally, her going off about some music group. I knew of them, cause they were really popular, but she took it to a whole new level. It was cute. She was cute.

I started to realize that I liked her. But I also really enjoyed her as a friend, she’s funny and we texted every night. And before I got attached to that, I decided to tell her. She was a true one-in-a-million. I had no clue someone as amazing as her existed. So I “told” her in class. I say told in quotes cause I wrote it in my notes and then showed her then turned around like a dumbass. I know I looked goofy, but yet later on she still texted me and, unlike the last time I informed someone of my interest in them, I wasn’t met with coldness and distance. She didn’t say she liked me back or anything, and my self confidence was for sure telling me she won’t ever, and at the time of writing this, I’m still not sure if it’s right. But I enjoyed what we had as friends and I appreciated it for what it is.

She’s perfect. Of course, perfection is a subjective concept, and beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but to me, I don’t just think, I know she’s perfect. I don’t just like her, I love her. I never have, and I probably never will feel this way towards someone as I do her. Her hair, dark and enchanting. It was short then, really short, compared to how it normally was, but it was beautiful. Her eyes, I’ve never seen such a color. They’re so easy to get lost in, yet the protective barrier between hers and mine keeps me from staring too hard. Her glasses, they sit perfectly on her face, and compliment its structure perfectly, and they look like they belong. I wish I were those glasses. With her at all times, something she needs in her day to day life, something that compliments her well, and looks like it belongs with her. Her lips, who’s natural shade fit perfectly with her skin tone. They’re not small, not at all. But they’re not so big to where you think she put on lip plumpers or partook in that one lip challenge. Those I get lost in constantly for, unlike the glasses, there’s no barrier anymore now that masks are optional. Behind them, her teeth, always bright and clean, and so straight. On the topic of lips and teeth, her smile. Her beautiful smile. You can tell it’s not always the most genuine smile, yet at the same time you can tell it still means she’s enjoying whatever she’s doing, it’s just hard to smile sometimes even when you want to. And when it’s genuine, don’t look too hard, or you’ll end up missing out on a lot of time.

Not only is she beautiful on the outside, her mind and soul work in ways that made me almost want to become her. I started by just listening, or well, reading, as most of our conversations were through text since we don’t have much time together in person. Music is one of, if not the most important thing in my life. It’s something I don’t just let anyone influence. Yet, I went from being a stranger to one artist to being one of their biggest fans. I had a playlist consisting of nothing but him playing constantly at some point, learning some of the easier lyrics to remember, hoping for a chance to sing them with her. He ended up my most played artist that year. I had even given that group I mentioned that I was familiar with at the beginning a chance, because even though I was never a fan, I ended up loving just one of their songs, just because I love her. But her taste in music didn’t just consist of 2 artists. It was a wide variety of many different things, much of which I was already a fan of, which allowed me to trust her with one of the most sacred parts of my life. There isn’t a playlist I have that doesn’t have something I know because of her. I even opened up to whole genres that I wasn’t too sure about because of her, especially any latin genres, such as bachata and reggaeton. This was mostly because her first language is Spanish, so of course I wanted so many more reasons to connect with her that way, but the quickest was and still is music. Not just music, but art too. She’s so talented in different visual art mediums, it amazes me still. Her drawings, her paintings, her collages, all so beautiful, each made me fall in love all over again. These are just the surface of what amazes me about her. I haven't even touched upon her taste in movies and television shows, or the fact that she reads, and actually enjoys it when the book is enjoyable enough, but the cornerstone of it all, the piece that made me realize at some point how truly perfect she is, was her brain. I’ve only met a handful of people as smart as her in my life, and I’ve been around for a while now. Even if she complains about it, she always manages to get her schoolwork done. Teachers revere her as one of their best students, always scoring high on tests, landing in honor roll almost every quarter, no doubt she’ll get one of the ropes to represent how accomplished a student she is to wear on her gown at graduation. Yet, on top of all that, she’s still a party goer. She still goes out from time to time, indulges, has a good time, and enjoys life while it’s still there. I know because she’s brought me with her a few times. Almost every time it became a core memory for me, and I will always appreciate that.

Sometimes, it’s hard to accept that she’s my best friend. I don’t believe that I deserve someone as radiant and alluring as her to be in my life in any way, let alone the person I trust to tell anything. The first name I think of when someone says friend. The last person I’d let go. Once I’m old and have no clue what anything is, one thing I’ll always recognize is her. She isn’t just a memory that can disappear with a deteriorating mind. She’s a piece of my soul that can’t be torn away even with a deteriorating heart. Even when my body decomposes, and I’m off floating somewhere, if anywhere, I just know that whatever flicker of me is left anywhere will always sing her name. A name I associate with the most amazing parts of my life. A name that helps me surpass surviving in the world, but now helps me live.

#short story #romance #love #unrequited love #your lie in april #heart #rose #Her

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dadsbongos · 3 years

Text

trashy dad

Movie/Game/Show: My Hero Academia Dynamic: Shota Aizawa/Reader (Platonic) Warnings: references (2) to un*s ann*s, one (1) use of (y/n), fem pronouns Summary: Shota trying to support his YouTuber daughter :) cuz social media aus own me Word Count: 2.1K ~~~

"Hey, gamers," you grin at the camera before tossing an arm over your father's shoulders, "My dad's in town and as you can see," you hesitated slightly before turning to face your father, "Dad's not super into taking care of himself. So, I figured what's better than doing a Q&A together while I do his makeup?"

"Hitoshi just did a 'what I eat in a day', didn't he?" Shota quirked a brow, already reaching back to tie up his messy, tangled hair.

"Spoilers!" you quietly whine as you open your phone, "He still has to edit it, silly man. We're gonna have to brush out your hair later, by the way."

Shota's eyes widened, "We? I thought this was your idea and video, (Y/n)."

"No," you huff, scrolling through a few of the questions from fans, "I mean it was but your hair is so… Okay, first question is from - oh my God the names - shrekslongtoe, what was my first word?"

"Are you gonna start putting makeup on me or just sit there?" Shota scratched at his nose before snickering, "That wasn't your first word. Your first word was 'Dada' and it drove Hizashi insane."

"Hizashi is my other dad, by the way," you lean over to grab your makeup bag, "'Toshi and I call him papa. Oooh, oh no," you looked up to Shota, "I don't have your shade, you're gonna look weird."

"I don't really care," the man shrugged, watching as you took out a pink beauty blender, "That looks like a buttplug."

"Don't say that!" your eyes were wide at his words while you got out your foundation, "Youtube doesn't like that."

"Whoops," he deadpanned, "Next question."

"Shit, right."

"Language."

"Japanese," you murmur, going to the next reply, "yoonbumskneecap asks, 'Did you believe in me-’ they said my name but you know, ‘and Hitoshi when they decided to become Youtubers?' And 'in 'Toshi's case - drop out of college to become a professional clout man.'"

"To be honest," Shota closed his eyes, only in slight fear, as you began pressing the foundation into his skin, "I was really worried about Hitoshi, I didn't know if he'd stay as big as he was because he's a lot like me, in the sense that people tend to not like us for our bluntness. So I was worried he'd be a meme for like a month and then people would drop him, but thankfully I was proved wrong," he opened his eyes when he felt you pull away and begin rooting through your bag once again, "With you, I was less worried because you're more like 'Zashi, i.e extremely likable, and you were kind of getting a boost from appearances on Hitoshi's channel. I still worry because the internet is a fickle mistress but I'm not staying up at night about it."

Pulling out a dark eyebrow pencil, you grin at your father, "Aww, that was kinda sweet. Not really but kind of."

"What I'm here for," Shota's eyes followed your hand as you uncapped the pencil and reached up, beginning to mark at his eyebrows, "I'm gonna read the next question while you kill my eyebrows."

"I'm not killing them!" you giggled, "But unlike Papa, you already have pretty thick, full eyebrows so I won't be here long."

"Good," he muttered before furrowing his brows in confusion, ignoring your frustrated groan, "who is daddysero and why is he asking if you pissed today?"

"What?!" you pull your dad's hand back to see what he was looking at, instantly calming down when you saw he was still on Twitter, "Oh, that's just Sero, he asks me that every time I tweet. I thought you went to my Instagram DMs," at Shota's questioning stare you grinned, "Mama's got simps in her DMs."

"Don't ever call yourself 'Mama' in my presence ever again," Shota shook his head, once again ignoring your annoyance, "papichulo46290 wants to know my favorite memory of you."

"If you mix me up with 'Toshi, I'll be so pissed," you return the eyebrow pencil to your bag as Shota speaks.

"I won't... probably," he shrugs while you root through your bag, "So, Hizashi had taken Hitoshi out for ice cream because of - has he mentioned his middle school trauma?" at your nod, he continues, "Hitoshi was having a bad day from middle school, shocking, so you and I were left home alone together. You were probably seven and you really wanted to paint my nails and I let you. You..." he shook his head, snickering, "you fucked them up. So bad. But you were so happy to just be spending time with me- "

"Keep talking, but I'm gonna do your eyeshadow," you lean back in, swishing your brush over a navy blue, almost black shade, "Just so you guys know, Dad wanted to look like shit, don't unsubscribe cuz this is gonna come out bad."

"It won't be too bad, you're talented," Shota did his best to remain still, "But overall, you were just so adorable and it didn't even matter that the smudged nails got me teased in the teacher's lounge the next day. It all came off after like a week because it was shitty polish but you get the idea."

"Aww, I didn't know you kept it on, that's so sweet," you fall back briefly to inspect your work, "It's not awful but I'm only posting this because you're my dad."

"Of course, I did," Shota continued scrolling through the questions, "A lot of people are asking if you mean Dad or Daddy, and a lot more people are asking for pictures of your feet, you should block them all."

"Yeah, I got sickos in my replies too, just gotta scroll past em'."

"Disgusting..." Shota grumbled as you moved to his other eye, "Is 'electrodick' Kaminari, perchance?"

"Unfortunately."

"Gross, he asks if you had an 'I'm not like other girls' phase," Shota hummed quietly in thought, "Maybe when you were eight for like a month, but that's probably because except for Nemuri you didn't have any women in your life. Thankfully you moved on from that pretty quickly."

"Oh yeah, that was a gross, weird time. You and Papa also weren’t shitty people so I didn’t have a lot of misogynist influence."

"I like to think we did a good job," Shota sighed, finally moving back into his slouching position when you pulled away completely, "Is 'explosionmurder' Bakugou?"

"You know it."

"Okay well, he's asking if you plan on fucking up your bronzing again?" he thinks for a moment, “Was that from when you looked kinda copper-ish in a video?

"Oh my God, that was one time, Bakugou!" you shout and shake your brush at the camera, "One time!"

"I don't even know what blending is so you're doing better than I am."

"God, how are we related?"

Without hesitation, Shota replied, "Surrogate. Which answers summerlongsock's question."

"Nice," you chuckle, setting the brush back in your bag, "You probably won't need too much bronze or countour since you're going for bad," you immediately turn to the camera, "And Bakugou isn't gonna say a fucking word about it!"

"Is eyeliner next? And if so, I would enjoy a nice wing," Shota muttered, looking through the remaining questions, "Hitoshi asks why I haven't done a video with him yet."

You nod along while uncapping the liner, "I'm curious about that too. I thought my first video with a parent would be with Papa. I was gonna say family but..." you shrug, "Hitoshi was my first video and then Eri came on."

"He never asked," Shota closed both of his eyes, allowing you to move his head around as you pleased, "You just texted me the video idea and we set it up while I was in town. If Hitoshi wants a video so bad he should come up with an idea."

"Jeez, don't bully the poor boy," you laughed quietly, carefully applying more eyeliner to your father's left lid, "We should all do a video together. I think it'd be fun."

"Come up with an idea," he replied flatly before opening his eyes, "davinky wants to know when you got into makeup. Probably after thirteen, sometime."

"Yeah, I got my first real eyeshadow at like fourteen and then you guys just enabled my love of makeup after that."

"Well, the thing with that was, Hizashi and I didn't want you growing up thinking you had to wear makeup for any reason," Shota opened his eyes once he felt you back away, blinking a few times, "So we waited till you were more mature because giving makeup to a six-year-old is weird."

Capping your eyeliner, you traded it out for mascara, "Yeah, even little play kits are a bit ehhh. Don't close your eyes, but look down."

Following instruction, Shota took the opportunity to read off another question, "I can't see the name but someone's asking what we did together for fun. While you were a kid."

Humming quietly in thought, you move from one eye to the other, "We used to go to diners a lot. Those late-night diner trips, remember?"

"Oh yeah, you were such a little demon about bedtime. I had to take you to this little place for scrambled eggs or some shit and you'd fall asleep on the way back home."

Putting away your mascara, you reach out for your hairbrush before beginning to pull out the hair tie in Shota's hair, "Mina wanted me to ask what videos you show people when they ask what your kids do for a living."

"For Hitoshi, the one where he and Kaminari made Bakugou breakfast with sex toys. For you, the one where you turn yourself into Mina's little character - with the pink skin," Shota winced slightly at the tug of your hairbrush, "And Eri's a teacher so that information comes first since it's the least strange."

As you fussed with his tangled nest of hair, you read another question over Shota's shoulder, "When did you know you loved me? Like after adopting me."

"Not too long after the adoption was finalized actually," Shota grumbled as the brush made its final courses through his hair, "You've always been a really great kid. I don't know when I 'realized' but it was definitely around the time you were born, maybe like the day after."

"That's pretty good considering I was a stranger," you giggled, brushing out the final knots in his dark hair, "A baby stranger."

"Hmm," Shota hummed in response, "You almost done?"

Refraining from rolling your eyes, you fluffed Shota's now smooth and detangled hair around his shoulders with a small smile, "I'm done. Your hair is so pretty when it's brushed out."

"I know," the man muttered, handing your phone back, "Wanna do one more question and then sign off?"

"Yeah," you scroll through some of the questions, "I want it to be the best question that's ever been asked."

"Ask your own, you're great at that."

You shook your head with furrowed brows at his comment, "Is that a compliment?"

"It was meant to be."

"Thanks, but no need, I've found one. Midoriya wants to know if raising two attention whores was hard. He didn't say ‘attention whores’ because he doesn't swear but that's the vibe."

"What's Midoriya's at?" Shota asked.

"SmallMight."

"Of course," the man grumbled, closing his eyes to think, "You two were honestly pretty easy to raise. Not a whole lot of fits compared to what I've heard other parents talk about. You both liked to talk a lot to each other, and, of course, to Hizashi and me. Not terribly difficult at all."

"Aww, I'm glad we didn't make you pull your hair out," you grin.

"Oh, you still did. Absolutely."

"Nice," you giggle before turning off your phone and facing the camera, "Okay guys, well, I hope you don't clown on me as much as usual because if you do, my dad will... I don't know… kick your ass."

"Exactly," Shota nodded, a horrific smile on his face, "I'll beam right into your living room."

"Hopefully you guys come back next week where I'll..." floundering for an answer, you turn to your dad as if he’d give you ideas, "Create wings to do it better than Icarus ever could."

Giving a singular stiff nod, Shota looked dead at the camera, "I'd watch it."

"You heard it from the main man himself, peeps," you waved to the camera, Shota copying the motion, “Bye!”

"If there's one comment about my eyebags, I'm never coming on your channel again," Shota lied as you leaned over to stop recording.

"They're gonna love you, I'm sure," you assure your father, "Wanna see how I edit?"

"God no, Hitoshi showed me how long it takes to edit his videos, it looks like hell."

#bnha x reader #bnha x reader platonic #shota aizawa x reader #shota x reader #aizawa x reader #shota aizawa x daughter reader #aizawa x daughter reader #shota x daughter reader #shota x reader platonic

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tsunonotarou · 4 years

Text

Being Childhood Friends to Lovers with...

notes — Bro I fucking THIRST for this man he can rip me open

— Also I think I’m gonna start this series called “Being Childhood Friends to Lovers with...” because childhood friends to lovers shit is my kind of shit

— We’re debuting this series with Leona 🥳

BEING CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS WITH...

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

— AS A CHILD

He cherishes you a lot even though he might not show it

You’re the first ever person who acknowledges him, first ever person who approached him first and talked to the second son

He thought you were strange at first, because why would you talk to a mere second born when the first is right here with you? So he distances himself and avoided you at first, thinking you have ulterior motives

You got the signs and didn’t pester him after that—which he is glad for—but he find himself secretly looking at you or purposely look for you in the castle whenever you come visit (let’s say you’re a royalty too and your parents’ are good friends)

It was when he saw you sulking and pouting by yourself, he felt bad and maybe, you just wanted to be friends

The servants always prepared your favorite sweets when you come visit but you didn’t want any after realizing that he’s ignoring you

So he took some, went to look for you and threw them at you

“H-Huh?—“ you got startled and quickly looked up, seeing his neutral expression on and looking down on you

“So, your parents bought you that whatever thing you want, and then what?”

The way he remembers your one-sided conversation with him before honestly made you tear up, you didn’t think he was listening

From then on, you were also excited to visit the king’s castle because you get to see him, and you made sure to bring various of things over for him and you to play

There was one time he accidentally overheard some servants of yours “advising” you to stop hanging around with Leona Kingscholar, saying how he isn’t worth your time and shouldn’t be influenced by him

Though he was sure of your loyalty and friendship with him, he still has his doubts, maybe, you secretly dislike him too

He waited for your response, your silence only made him more anxious as time pass by

“...Hey.” He bit the inside of his cheek, awaiting for your answer

“I’m gonna ask my parents to fire you all.”

His eyes were wide as ever, and so were the servants’

“B-But please, Princess/Prince Y/N-“

“I will not tolerate anyone who badmouths my friend, moreover, who do you guys think you are? Telling me who I should be friends with now?”

As much as Leona tries to stop it, his eyes watered, lips quivering at your words

He never told you how he eavesdropped your conversation with those servants, because eventually it’ll lead to how he reacted, and he’s never going to tell you he almost cried

He taught you how to roar once, got super red when he himself haven’t even mastered it yet

Glares at your form rolling on the floor laughing

— AS TEENAGERS

He is two years older than you, so he got enrolled into Night Raven College first, during the times he was at the dorm you were bored to death

One of the main reasons (probably the only reason) why he’d go back home during breaks is because of you, he could care less about the grand welcome back party—which he was sure the servants were forced to put up—and the fake smiles from relatives, but he had to see you

Is always prepared for the uncalled tackle hug from you but somehow you always manage to knock him off balance, causing the two of you to fall down onto the sandy ground

You rambled and rambled, he listened but solely focused on how your features changed, you definitely grew up, got more attractive, too

Oh fuck

He mentally cursed when he finally realizes how his heart is beating in an unusual pace, feeling his cheeks warm up and how he felt like melting right there and then

Buried his feelings deep down because of his insecurities and acted as normal as he could with you after

You have never seen him panicked so much, got so angry and frustrated before, it happened once, when the topic of arranging a marriage for you and his older brother, Farena, was mentioned

He strongly opposes the idea but reminding him that he is only a second son, hence have no say in this matter was enough to shut him down

You tried to go after Leona who stormed to his room but decided you have more important matters at hand, matters that you need to clarify first

Politely declining the marriage and telling how Farena is a good person, but you have eyes for someone else

Everyone in the room (which consisted of both your parents and Farena) knew who you were talking about, and they were shocked, to say the least

You can clearly see the discomfort in yours and his’ parents faces, but you also can clearly see Farena’s secret wink towards you, telling you he approves

You and Farena never had any romantic feelings for each other anyway, and he was always teasing about you and Leona when you two were little

Knocking on Leona’s room softly then creaking it open, you peek your head inside to see him lying on the bed on his side with his back facing you

“Leona.”

“Leona?”

“Leooona.”

“Leeeeeeonaaaaaa.”

“LEONA WAKE THE FUCK UP.”

“FUCK-“

He winces and jolted up after you slapped his arm

Snaps and growls at you, rubbing the spot where you attacked earlier

He was all grumpy and upset until you tell him you rejected the marriage

Stares at you for a good ten seconds before sighing, slowly resting his forehead on your shoulder and wrapping his arms around you

You two have had naps together, held hands when you were little but have never been this physically close after you two grew up, you two are the best of friends but there are boundaries as friends, so this was new to you, naturally, your cheeks bursted in all shades of red

“I’m glad...” you can hear him mumble, placing a hand on his soft hair and patting it before give it a stroke, calming him down

— AS STUDENTS IN NIGHT RAVEN COLLEGE

You teases him so fucking much about being a dorm leader, like- how??? He’s just so lazy and unmotivated to do anything that you’re impressed

Surprisingly takes very good care of you both as a friend and a senior, it was surprising for the Savanaclaw dorm members to see Leona actually giving fucks about someone, a freshman no less, so they got interested in you very quickly

Which resulted in Leona scaring them away because they’re too close for his liking

He always suggests you to take naps and laze around with him though, so it’s no good since you have to get good grades

You’re the one who’s always dragging him to classes (if you’re lucky to get him to move)

You two never bothered to tell anyone that you’re childhood friends, it didn’t seem to have the need to

So everyone thought you two were dating because of how close you are 💀

Definitely got jealous at how you made new friends

He doesn’t mind if you have new friends, it’s natural, it’s only concerning if you don’t have any

But if you’re spending more time with them than with him? Best know that he’d trap you in his room and never let you go out

This won’t stop until you figure out why he’s like this and promise him he’ll stay as number one in your friendship list

You really shouldn’t be but you’re still laughing at how he’s repeating school years to this day

But you’re also kind of glad that he’s still here with you, it’d be boring if he weren’t

Plus, Leona wouldn’t leave you here alone anyway, there’s too many people he can’t trust and he just generally don’t wanna leave you alone

The confession was surprisingly normal and quick, no stutters or nervous twiddles of fingers from him

He kinda just, got tired of you being so physically close and attached to everyone else that he want to call you his and his only

He’s the type that’d suddenly pin you down on his bed while you’re talking about what you and your other friends did that day

Enjoys the deep blush and lip quiver on you as he finally confesses his feelings for you, leaning down onto your ear and whisper huskily about-

His arms quickly wrapped around his stomach and coughs as your strong kick jerked him back, he ended up kneeling on his bed, hunched over as he groans

He thought he invaded your privacy and made you uncomfortable so he quickly look up to check up on you, afraid of the terrified and disgusted look on your face, but what greeted him was a hot, hot face as you refuse to look him in the eye

He stared, and stared, a small blush slowly coming up to his own cheeks before a pillow was thrown at his face

Seeing you so flustered reminded him of the past few days when he debated with himself whether he should go for it or not, he might seem smug for now, but before this cocky smirk appeared he was a nervous wreck

So the two of you kinda just stayed like that in his room, freezing on your spot with dead silence

“A-At least give me an answer...damn it.” A miracle that he stuttered

He watches as you fiddled with your finger, looking down with mumbles he couldn’t make words out from

“I...I like you too.”

This is so lame, you two are like middle school kids confessing your love for each other and yet, those simple words made his heart flip like crazy

Now that he’s confirmed your answer, prepare for a wild but sweet kiss from him

— AS LOVERS

It was a little bumpy at first, mostly from you though, because you’re just so used to being “just friends” with him that you don’t know how to act as his lover

He didn’t change much, maybe a little bit sweeter and considerate than before but he’s just the old Leona you know, which you’re glad for, you didn’t want him to change

He’s more protective now since you’re finally his, and he made sure to let everyone know that

Doesn’t really have a say on PDA, he’s fine with or without it, but he would definitely shove his tongue into your mouth right on the spot if someone even dare to look at you in the wrong way

Really likes wrapping an arm around your waist and put his whole weight on you because he’s lazy and tired of walking

Will actually fall on you when you’re in the botanical garden so that you couldn’t get up and is forced to take a nap with him

Play with his hair!! He loves it to death, though he might grumble and say he doesn’t, we all know he’s lying

You have to reassure him that he’ll always be your number one, he’s already suffered enough, if you end up leaving him he doesn’t know how to cope with it

Cuddles, cuddles and cuddles 24/7, he will not let you go

He sometimes just stares at you as you talk or do your own thing and think about how lucky he is to have you, it might not seem possible but literal hearts appeared in his eyes

If you ever catch him staring at you and tease him for it he’ll growl and pounce on you, how dare you make fun of your king like that? Prepare for a punishment my friend ;)

#leona kingscholar #twisted wonderland #leona kingscholar x reader #leona x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #leona twisted wonderland x reader #leona kingscholar twisted wonderland x reader

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motherwasapapafucker · 3 years

Note

You've obviously spoke about the Ghost as a Superman figure within the larger context of Doctor Who but do you think the opposite is possible? A Doctor-like figure within a larger superhero setting?

There's been a couple of attempts, never quite as....jarring as the Ghost but that’s pretty much down to mad scientists and time travel being far more commonplace in superhero settings than overtly super-heroic figures are in Who. To the point the handful of times Who has played with that (Conundrum, Starfall, The Return of Doctor Mysterio) all draw at least some of their story out of the jarring presence of a superhero figure within the narrative. There’s a really nice sequence in Conundrum where the Doctor “explains” the presence of the superpowered figures in a way that reads like he’s as much kidding himself because he would like to think it’s possible as genuinely trying to explain how these people have gained their abilities. Which really feels like a deliberate building on “I wish...I wish I believed in wishing wells” given how Conundrum plays out. There’s obviously the conflation of Captain Britain’s Merlin and Who’s Merlin a couple of times, but that’s really overstated even if only in terms of Britain’s Merlin functionally different beast to the point any doctor connection is largely a minor detail as any attempt at creating a Doctor-like figure. I think then, when it comes to your Doctor-like figure the big thing that would distinguish them from other standard mad scientists and science heroes is the face changing, and basically none of your overtly doctor-influenced characters actually do anything with? Your big one in a standard setting is Professor Gamble in Power Man and Iron Fist #79, who really stands out in terms of being the only doctor-lite comic figure overtly building on Classic Who rather than Cultural Juggernaut David Tennant Doctor Who. Some overlap with Dr. Mysterio’s use of the Ghost in the conflation of the real and fictional but in very different directions; Gamble writing a fictitious account of his own life, dreadlox a fictitious account of the Incinerators. Gamble’s personal Dalek-stand in born of rogue temporal cleaning devices that have decided destroying space and time is the only way to clean everything. Where the overlap falls apart is the fact that Power Man and Iron Fist is arguably a far more flexible book at that point in its history than Who is by the point of Doctor Mysterio. So #79 is less of an out of genre moment so much as just more weird shit happening to Danny and Luke. As far as I know Gamble has popped up here and there since then, and is one of a fairly sizable amount of Who references across Marvel/Marvel UK (Yeah yeah we all know about Death’s Head, W.H.O. and aw that pish) The other big, very very direct and direct to Cultural Juggernaut David Teannant Doctor Who is...weirdly…Qubit in Irredeemable. Which is barely relevant to this question because it’s really not a standard superhero setting beyond the superficial, but bares some comment given it’s arguably the most prominent of recent takes and really hard to ignore how much he’s just David Tennant with a James from Twin Peaks forehead and LEGION hair. Also worth commenting on how fucking strange his entire role in the arse end of Irredeeamble is given the final 20 or so issues largely devolve into “The Tenth Doctor fights Evil Superman.” Given how little that aspect is remarked upon, and how incongruous it is with the broader attempt at presenting an Evil Superman story that gradually pairs back to show that the character’s never really been evil superman because for him to have that “turn” you basically have to have it be the tip of an iceberg that sketches back decades and ultimate reveals the character was never really Superman in any way beyond the iconographic. So the fact that happens while he’s fighting David Tennant is really strange, though I do like so much of that spilling out of the Plutonian forcing Quibit into one of those big, painful NuWho moral decisions, but I really struggle to care about Irredeemable beyond thinking Incorruptible was generally the stronger book towards the end. You’ve also got things like the Allred/Slott Silver Surfer that overtly drew influence from contemporary

Doctor Who, but it’s building on an already distinctive character so it can never really function as a direct one for one. I know, vaguely, that Ben 10 had a Doctor Who figure. But having never watched the show I’m not sure how he appears within the show and tbh I don’t care enough to look into it. I suppose the thing is that Doctor-lite easily slides into a superhero setting without losing too much and without drawing too much attention to the homage while someone like the Ghost is, by basic nature, designed to be at least somewhat strange within the larger normality of the show’s present day. The closest point of comparison I can think of is something like Silver Sentry in TMNT; There’s really nothing in TMNT or Doctor WHo that precludes the existence of “proper” superheroes, nether show is exactly the height of realism but the sudden introduction of basically superman presents a fundamental shift in their respective idiosyncrasies. I imagine people would be tempted to draw a comparison between the Milligan Shade the Changing Man revamp under Vertigo and Who, and given it’s MIlligan I’m sure there was some influence their even if only in terms of an English-coded otherworldly figure who undergoes startling changes across the run, but tbh it’s basically a passing resemblance and kinda overlooks the fact that Shade kinda hilariously preempts a lot of where Who as a franchise goes during the 90s and 2000s. It’s presentation of Shade’s changes as far-more psychologically damaging than classic who’s regeneration compared to some overlap with how NuWho treats the event particularly, but also in terms of the EDAs there’s a fairly notable arc where Shade gives up his heart to cope with a torrent of emotional loss and devastated worlds. Make of that what you will. I still haven’t answered the fucking question have I, right since you’ve asked me you’re going to get my shite, because here’s how I’d do it. There’s only one way really, one word Metalek Because the fucking rule don’t they? Morrison’s first, best Dalek-homage. The Xenoformers from Galaxy X, sentient construction vehicles serving masters that no longer exist. Terraforming the Galaxy one world at a time. Bow before Metalek. So yeah, those guys exist and they’re fucking great. I have...more thoughts than I’d like to admit about the “Metalek Empire” that’s really just self-indulgent pish. But that’s DC comics. So they exist, and they present what’s probably the best approach to a Doctor-alike in a superhero setting. In the same way the Ghost might as well be Superman in a setting where he isn’t the soul focus, you’re Doctor Who figure might as well just be Doctor Who in a setting where, building on the fact the key elements aren’t that notable, they really don’t stand out that much, so what then? Well he’s the mad scientist, but a good mad scientist. Counterpart to all the lunatics and madmen with their metal monsters, who is he? Who’s the grant morrison character fighting the dreaded metalek menace when they aren’t intruding on Superman’s narrative? Who spent decades trapped on earth, leading a reformed STAR Labs into a strange, wonderful new world? It’s Leo Quantum isn’t it. Basically, Leo’s one of those characters like Lan-Shin in Smashes the Klan or John Henry Irons who click perfectly into place with the larger idea of Superman’s social network. And given I’m an egotist, I’m going to do what I like with him building out of that admittedly bullshit old idea he’s future lex back to repent. If the Ghost is a version of Superman who’s world exists in the shadow of the Doctor, Leo would be a version of the Doctor that exists in the Shadow of Superman. He’s not literally Lex, he’s your Kristin Wells/Legion/DC One Million figure, possibly a future Luthor, possibly the first child of the Luthor/Kent families coming together in the far off 42nd century. A temporal adventurer who’s early experiments caused all his potential futures to crash down on top of him, transforming him into a hypertime singularity. His technicolor dreamcoat crafted from fifth world

wondertech, regulating his body to ensure each hypertime strand gets its time in sun while keeping the darker fringes in line….most of the time. Or at least, that’s what I’d do, feel free to discard this as mental bastard bullshit.

#doctor who #comics #superman #superheroes #rambling bullshit #leo quantum #grant morrison #metaleks #irredeemable #dc comics #the ghost #the return of doctor mysterio #tmnt #silver sentry is pretty great tbh

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sam-and-buck · 3 years

Text

At Home With Captain America

Fandom: MCU

Pairing: Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes

Rating: G

Words: 7.7k

Also on AO3

“What can you tell me about how you got to know the Winter Soldier?”

Wilson chuckles. “The first time I met Buck—Sergeant Barnes—he ripped the steering wheel out of the car I was driving on the freeway. He got on the roof, punched through the windshield, pulled the steering wheel off. Just like that.” He mimes with his hands as he describes it.

This doesn’t sound like an auspicious beginning to me, but Wilson is laughing.

At Home with Captain America

By: Adrien Davis

Published: February 2, 2026, 3:35 PM

To say I’m intimidated by interviewing Captain America in his own home would be an understatement, and I would never have thought to ask if I could do that if he hadn’t personally invited me. Normally, I’d start one of these articles by describing the location, maybe even throw in an anecdote or two about how I got there, but that’s not going to be possible here.

Sam Wilson lives on [REDACTED] in [REDACTED]. It was a windy day.

Here’s what I can tell you: it’s an apartment. A nice one. Two bedroom, two bath.

“Am I allowed to describe the inside of your house?” is one of the first things I say to him, after getting his permission to turn on my recorder.

“Go right ahead,” he laughs, arms crossed over the worn USAF logo on his gray t-shirt. “Just don’t put the street name in there or anything.”

Wilson gives me a moment to poke around. Whoever decorated this place has good taste; it’s no haphazard bachelor pad. There’s an exposed brick wall in the otherwise slate blue living room, several plants (which I assume are fakes—albeit convincing ones—since Wilson is, by his own admission, not home as often as he’d like to be), a sturdy walnut coffee table, and a magnificently squishy-looking red couch.

It’s unmistakably lived in, though. I don’t get the sense that the place has been scrubbed spotless or particularly arranged for my visit. There are two abandoned mugs on coasters sitting on the coffee table, along with several different remote controls, and a stack of half-finished books with dog-eared corners. A pile of mail has been pushed to the side. Next to the door, a wall-mounted coat rack holds several leather jackets in shades of brown and black, and at least as many sweaters, mostly navy blue, charcoal and maroon. The shoe rack underneath houses multiple pairs of black combat boots, worn running shoes, house slippers. And next to that, on the floor, a large, gleaming silver case with red detail that could only contain Wilson’s Falcon wingpack. The legendary shield is propped up against it, ready to go at a moment’s notice.

I’m trying to imagine how it would be to leave the house for him. Got my keys, wings, phone, shield, wallet?

There are pictures on the walls and the mantle above the fireplace, under the television. People who I can only assume are Wilson’s relatives by their similarly gap-toothed smiles. Veterans. Wilson in full air force gear next to a blond man I don’t recognize. Then Captain Steve Rogers, in the 1940s with the Howling Commandos, and in the twenty-first century by himself. Wilson with Rogers, and Natasha Romanoff. One conspicuously empty nail where a large frame would clearly fit.

Scattered among these are several very old, dour black and white photographs of a dark-haired family. The first shows a mother, father and two small children, a boy and girl. The second is the mother and children only, taken some time after, judging by their apparent ages. The third is several years later still; the same children with light eyes and dark hair, but they’re teeangers now, and without parents. They look haunting and out-of-place among the glossy prints of Wilson’s big, happy family in matching 80s colorblocked tracksuits, or Wilson and his sisters in front of a Christmas tree, surrounded by wrapping paper and toys.

There’s also a wood-framed painting that stands out: an idyllic watercolor of a little farmhouse with a green roof and shuttered windows in a field. A small pile of lumber and a white mailbox make up the foreground. The most distinctive feature is the signature at the bottom: S.G.R. I know those initials.

“Captain Rogers painted this?”

“Uh huh,” Wilson nods fondly, hands now in his pockets. “Man of many talents. Maybe every talent. Having a hard time thinking of anything he wasn’t good at.”

I hear the unstated in that. A tough act to follow.

I think, for purposes of journalistic integrity, I should probably insert my bias before we go any further. We had never met before this interview, but I am and have always been enormously supportive of Captain Wilson and the work he’s done, and have written myriad articles and think pieces about him over the past several years. He’s shown himself time and again to be a man of unshakable integrity and endless emotional intelligence, and frankly, I’m more worried about the poor sucker who’s going to have to follow Wilson. Rogers did a lot of great things, but among the best of them was choosing a successor.

I tell him as much and he smiles, looking down at his shoes.

“Yeah, I know that’s how you feel,” he says. “I requested you for this piece, actually, because of that. People are going to accuse me of wanting a softball interview here, and maybe they’re right. For this one, I think that’s what I need.”

I’m not sure what he means by that, but he continues before I can ask.

“We should probably do this in the kitchen.” Wilson indicates behind us with his thumb, after I’ve stood silently in his living room for probably way too long. “That couch is too comfortable. I end up falling asleep every time I sit on it.”

The kitchen is, perhaps, a little cramped. There’s a large, dark marble-topped kitchen island that just fits in the center of the room with four bar stools tucked under it. The cabinets are tall, with glass doors showcasing a massive collection of healthy, but non-perishable food. The shelf nearest us holds several well-used bags of pantry supplies: chickpea flour, arrowroot starch, raw sugar. There’s a pasta shelf above it, but no Kraft Mac in sight; everything is lentil-based, chickpea-based, black bean-based.

“Have a seat,” Wilson says, inclining his head towards one of the barstools. “Can I get you something to drink?” He opens the refrigerator.

“We have…” he pauses. “Water. Sorry, just got back from Ecuador this morning. Sparkling or still?”

I accept a glass of still water from Captain America. He sits down on the stool next to mine.

His house, or what I’ve seen of it, is homey in a way I can’t imagine any of the late Tony Stark’s buildings ever were, and I mention this.

“I lived at the Avengers Tower briefly,” Wilson tells me. “Tony liked everything streamlined, really modern. Kinda sparse for my taste. I needed some real furniture when I got out of there, you know? Like, things that were made by human beings. Stuff with ‘character,’ that’s what Steve would call it.”

“So you decorated this place?”

“I think it’s about fifty-fifty,” Wilson says, indicated with vague hand motion.

This is my in.

This interview, as you may have read on the cover description, is actually intended to be an exposé about the working partnership between Wilson and Sergeant James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, but I didn’t want to be the one who brought him up first.

All I knew going in is that they’re a package deal in the field, a unit. We’ve all seen the footage.

Also, Barnes lives here too, but evidently, he’s not home.

“What can you tell me about how you got to know the Winter Soldier?”

This doesn’t sound like an auspicious beginning to me, but Wilson is laughing.

“I hope he apologized to you for that,” I tell him, because I’m not exactly sure how else to respond.

“Oh yeah, of course he did, even though he knows I don’t blame him for it. He doesn’t remember it at all,” says Wilson. “There are a lot of gaps, to be honest. Most of it is gaps.”

What Wilson is likely referring to here is the decades-long period in which Barnes was under the complete mental and physical influence of the Nazi splinter group known as HYDRA. If you’re unfamiliar with the history of Sergeant Barnes, I’ll list a couple of great articles for you to read at the end of this one. I assure you, it’s worth your time.

Wilson has without a doubt been Barnes’s most ardent supporter. He’s spoken out many times about not judging Barnes based on the actions he couldn’t control, and has masterfully refocused the national conversation towards Barnes’s invaluable contributions in World War II and in the recent war to bring half the universe’s population back into existence. Wilson has been quoted as saying, “The least extraordinary thing about Sergeant Barnes is his vibranium arm.”*

But perhaps Wilson’s most effective act towards building public confidence in Barnes was his decision to designate him as an almost exclusive mission partner. Even if the general populace has been reluctant to trust the Winter Soldier, it is abundantly clear that Captain America does, absolutely. Barnes is a constant in the footage of Wilson’s exploits. The moment he touches down on the ground after a successful arrest or negotiation, Barnes is right there. He’s been sighted treating Wilson’s minor injuries, tightening straps on the Falcon wingsuit before Wilson takes flight, and he stands quietly behind Wilson during almost all of his many public appearances.

Despite his ubiquitous presence in Wilson’s company, Barnes has remained elusive for comment. He has no social media, and the only public statement he’s made to date was in November of 2023, in support of Rogers’s decision to pass on the legacy of Captain America. Barnes expressed his categorical agreement that Wilson is “the best and only choice for this job,” describing him as both “worthy of the honor,” and “equipped for the burden.”**

“Is it fair to say that Sergeant Barnes almost comes with the shield?” I ask.

Wilson makes a face.

“No, it isn’t,” he shakes his head. “The shield is an accessory; my partner is not. I really don’t like it when people lump him in with the shield. It sort of minimizes how Bucky and I have made a series of conscious choices to be the way we are now. Especially because he’s experienced being fully stripped of his personal autonomy—as a veteran, I can say I’ve had a taste of that, but nothing like what he’s been through—and I think it cheapens his choice to do what he does if we imply that he, as a person, is a package deal with my title, you know?”

The therapist in Wilson is showing. In addition to his decorated military history and service as Captain America, he has a background in psychology, and a Masters degree in Social Work with a focus on Veterans’ mental health issues. He’s worked extensively with the VA as a leader in group therapy.

“So Sergeant Barnes is by your side day in and day out because he wants to be?”

This, Wilson has another unequivocal answer for. “Yes. He wants to be there, and I want him there. And here at home.”

“Tell me a little more about that,” I say. “After the...steering-wheel-stealing incident. Once he was more or less himself. Did you two hit it off right away?”

Wilson laughs again. “Not at all,” he says. “I think there was this resentment, kind of, in the beginning. Like I’m Steve’s best friend and no, I’m Steve’s best friend. Real elementary school stuff. He really got on my nerves; just everything about him annoyed me, and the feeling was mutual. Looking back…”

And here Wilson pauses for a moment. He chews on his bottom lip, and I notice all at once how nervous his body language has become. His fingers are drumming on the table, the line of his shoulders is taut, his leg is bouncing. He clears his throat though, and seems determined to continue.

“Looking back, I can see where it was coming from. It wasn’t clear to me at the time, but now I get it. There was this one time, it was during the fight over the Accords. We barely knew each other at this point. Buck and I, we’re fighting Spider-Man—who neither of us had ever even heard of before, like, that afternoon—and he pins us to the floor of this hangar with that goo he shoots out of his wrist. Really gross. I manage to get Redwing [Wilson’s drone] to fling Spider-Man out the window. So we’re just laying there, me and Bucky, stuck. And he goes ‘you couldn’t have done that before?’ And I just turn to him, and I’m like, ‘I hate you.’”

At this, Wilson really starts cracking up. He relaxes visibly, just a little.

“Did you mean it?”

“I sure thought I did,” he says, still chuckling. “Like, I wasn’t about to take it back.”

He continues: “Anyway, so after Steve, you know, passed on the shield to me, that’s when things really changed. Actually, back up a second. After the whole Accords incident, we ended up sending Bucky to Wakanda for like… to hear him describe it, it’s like we sent him for a two-year spa retreat. They unscrambled his brain as best they could—and really, I think it’s a good thing they couldn’t do any more because I wouldn’t wish some of his memories on my worst enemy—and he spent like months meditating in a hut and milking goats and going to therapy every day. When I met up with him again, I barely would’ve recognized him.”

“So that’s kind of when you guys reconciled? The arguing stopped?”

“Oh, it never stopped,” Wilson says with a grin. “We still argue all the time, about all kinds of things. Just ask Rhodey [Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes, aka War Machine] or Scott [Lang, Ant-Man] or anybody. But the dynamic shifted a little, I think. Bucky’s got… Like I can’t imagine some of the stuff he’s been through, but he’s just kind of learned to roll with it. He is hands down the most resilient person I have ever met. Easily. It was real hard to keep hating him when he was so dead set on getting me to like him, too.”

“Can you walk me through the process by which you two decided to live together?”

“Yeah,” he says, and the nervousness is back. He smooths his hands on his thighs over his jeans. “So, basically, once I got the shield, we’d just barely come back. Like everyone else who got… I—I still don’t know if this is like an okay question to ask people. Do you mind me asking if you were dusted?”

I don’t mind. “Yeah, I was.”

“So you get it,” Wilson says. “Might be the most vulnerable I’d ever felt. I got nothing. Nowhere to go, just the clothes on my back. Then Steve hands me this shield and this enormous legacy—and I look back and there’s Bucky, standing a couple of yards behind me, nodding like, yeah, it should be you. He was the first person who knew, and he’s been right by my side ever since.”

“So you decided to stick together?”

“The original conversation about it was pretty logistical,” Wilson says, rubbing his beard. “There was so much going on, it’s hard to remember exactly what was said, but I think it was along the lines of him offering to fetch the shield for me while I learned how to throw it, and stuff like that. Just easier to do when we’re together 24/7.”

“So rooming together didn’t actually grow out of field partnerships?”

“It was definitely the other way around,” says Wilson. “Basically, I’d get a call from the powers that be that there was something I had to go check out, and it was easier to just walk across the hall than to pick someone else, try to wake them up, and then have to rendez-vous and strategize.”

“I’ll bet,” I say.

Wilson nods. “Easier and faster. Bucky can go from dead asleep to fully geared up in under three minutes. The first few times were like that, with me just knocking on his bedroom door like ‘hey, I need—’ and he comes barreling out covered in knives thirty seconds later like, ‘where are we going?’ We just… clicked. And I’ll be honest; I was really surprised. He’s got my six, I’ve got his, and I never question it. I started asking for him specifically on all my assignments after that, and Fury [Nick Fury, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.] and everyone caught on quick that that’s how it was gonna be. I don’t have to ask anymore.”

“Do you see this continuing long term?” I ask.

Wilson doesn’t hesitate. “Definitely.”

“How would you describe your relationship with Sergeant Barnes now?” I ask. “Clearly you’re partners in the field, and roommates, but…”

Wilson takes a deep breath. His hands are shaking, but he clasps them together in front of him and looks me straight in the eye.

“As of last month,” he says slowly, “Bucky and I are married.”

In the spirit of my interview with Captain America, who stands for honesty and justice and integrity, I think you deserve to know the truth. I want to say that I didn’t drop my recorder, but I did. It clatters to the floor, luckily undamaged.

That startles Wilson into a laugh. For the second it takes me to retrieve my recorder from under my seat, I wonder if he’s kidding.

“Come on,” he says. “Say something. I’m getting nervous.” He’s smiling, but not joking.

“Congratulations,” I blurt out. “I...really?”

“Yeah.” The tension leaves his body in a rush. “We, uh, it’s official.”

I’m struggling for questions at this point. The talking points I was planning on hitting in this interview are all suddenly moot, and I decide to throw out my mental to-do list entirely. I finally settle on, “How long have you two been together?”

“A little over two years,” Wilson answers. “About three months after I took up the shield.”

“How did it happen?”

Wilson grins. “Uh, well. I had sort of been…having feelings about him, you know, for awhile. Actually, it’s more like I had noticed that I was having more-than-friendly feelings in the few weeks leading up to that. I think the main reason we had so much trouble getting along in the beginning is that it took some time to process those feelings as attraction. So in a way, I was interested on some level right from the get go.”

“Even if that person wasn’t...behind the wheel of their own brain, so to speak—” I start, but Wilson interjects.

“I see what you did there.”

“—I think it would take a lot for me to be attracted to someone who had previously tried to kill me.”

“Less than I would’ve expected, that’s for sure,” Wilson says. “But it’s not like I was checking him out while he was busy tearing my wings off my back; I’m talking about once he was mentally present in his body. That was like...two years after the whole steering wheel incident, and I hadn’t seen him at all in the interim. I didn’t even know where he was during that time.”

“So it had at least been awhile since he had tried to kill you?”

“Oh yeah. And plenty of other people tried to kill me in those two years, and they weren’t even sorry about it. You gotta adjust your standards, you know?” he says with a laugh.

“Anyway, if you ask him, he says he’s been all in since the moment he saw me back in Wakanda after his little vacation. Now we’re talking about four years since the steering wheel thing. Me, Steve, Nat and everybody; we landed in Wakanda and Bucky’s there. He and I look at each other over Steve’s shoulder, and like, bam, that was it for him.

“And then there’s five years where neither of us exist. We get back, we fight the monsters, Steve gives me the shield, and while all this is happening, apparently Bucky has come to the conclusion that he’s in love with me. After that, he was just waiting for me to catch up.”

“And he just knew you’d get there? Did you give him any indication that you were interested, or…?”

“I definitely did, but not intentionally,” says Wilson. “He’s very perceptive—like way more than I was giving him credit for—but I think it’s a combination of that and me not being as subtle as I think I am.

“Because, see there’s this invisible line I’ve drawn here—at least that’s how he was thinking about it—and I keep dancing a little closer to that line every day, the line being the no homo line; the point where you can’t take it back. The flirting, I mean. I, of course, think he has no clue and that I’m being slick about it. Actually, lemme ask—how much detail are you looking for here? Like do you want to know the whole story or just—”

“Lay it on me,” I tell him. “Just however you want to tell it.”

“Alright. Where was I? So I’m just there going back and forth on whether or not it’s a good idea to risk this roommate-partner-buddy thing we’ve got going here by trying to make a move that, frankly, I have no clue if he’s gonna be receptive to. You have to remember we’re talking about a guy from the Great Depression here, like that’s the time period he grew up in. I’m no historian, but I think it’s common knowledge that if you were a man who was attracted to men back then, you mostly kept that to yourself. The chances of him bringing up his sexual orientation unprompted are very low. And like, I’m 90% sure I’ve caught him looking before, but that’s never a guarantee, you know?

“So, instead of sitting down and having a mature conversation about my feelings, I keep doing this thing where, for example, say he’s trying something new with his hair, and I’ll say something nice about it. And then I follow up immediately with, ‘Almost makes up for your ugly mug,’ or whatever, which—I mean, he’s such a good-looking guy, like what ugly mug, obviously I don’t mean that. And he’s not stupid, he knows what he looks like. So he picks up on what I’m doing, doesn’t say anything, and lets this go on for months.

“Eventually, there’s one night… We’re on the couch, watching like, I don’t know, Seinfeld or something. Whatever was on. He’s reading a book on my tablet, looking all relaxed and handsome. I can’t have that, so I start egging him on like I usually do, and I guess I got close enough to the line that he just puts the tablet down, turns to me and says, ‘Sam, you know there’s no line, right?’

“And I’m going, okay, what does that mean? Like, is this a conversation I was previously a part of and forgot or...? Where is this ‘line’ thing coming from? And so I ask him—I think I just said, ‘What?’ At that point he looks me right in the eye, and he goes, ‘You can kiss me if you want to.’” So I did, and he was ready for it, like no hesitation. Like I said: waiting for me to catch up.”

This, as you can imagine, is far beyond the level of detail I could have ever imagined I’d get about Captain America’s love life in my wildest dreams. I decide to ask a new question, because I feel like I’d be pushing my luck to delve further when he’s already been so open about this experience.

“Who proposed and when?”

“Ooh,” says Wilson, “I guess technically I did, but I’m gonna go on record saying that one was a group effort.”

“Well, now you’re gonna have to explain that,” I tell him. “What’s a ‘group effort’ proposal look like?”

“Hmm. I backed myself into that one, didn’t I?” he says. “First, I want the record to show that before I called you guys to set up this interview, I specifically asked Bucky if there were any us-related topics or whatever that were off-limits to discuss and he said ‘No,’ and I said, ‘Are you sure?’ and he said ‘Yes, I’m sure,’ and I said, “You better be sure, because whatever I say is gonna be public knowledge after that,” and he said “I know, I get it, Jesus.” Then I dropped it because he sounded like he was getting kinda irritated. If he didn’t want me to tell you any of this stuff, that would’ve been the time to speak up, so here we go:

“We were at… Well, I can’t tell you exactly where we were, but let’s just say we were working. There was nobody else in the room, but we were getting ready to go out in the field; seemed like it was gonna be a pretty...intense situation out there. I had my whole suit on, he was calibrating his arm, and the conversation ended up at living wills. As you can imagine, that’s an important thing to have when you’re in this line of work. So he proceeded to tell me that the last time he’d updated his was never and that his next-of-kin was nobody. And I was like, ‘So what, your grenade launchers are all gonna go to the state? I don’t even get the red one?’ and I’m just giving him a hard time, you know, and he’s like, ‘Sam.’

“And then, my god, he just goes all the way off about how much he loves me and trusts me and I—we don’t usually go there. I mean, we’d been on the same page for a long time as far as, we’ve established that we’re in love, this relationship is going well, but it’s not something that we’d verbalized in any real depth. That’s just a level of like, exposure, vulnerability, I think, that doesn’t come naturally to most people, myself included.

“So he just keeps talking—and I think it’s fair to say he’s not a very talkative guy most of the time—and I’m standing there with my jaw on the floor because he is not holding back, and this is all clearly unrehearsed. Like, this is just how he really feels about me, apparently. By the time he’s finished, I’m crying, he’s crying, it’s a mess. And so I open my mouth, and I have no idea what I’m gonna say to all that, but what comes out is, “Will you marry me?” I wasn’t planning on it, but suddenly I just knew. Best decision I ever made.”

“And you’ve made some very important decisions in your life.”

“That’s right. I know which ones I’m leaving out by saying this was the best, and I stand by it.”

At that moment, as if on cue, the lock clicks, and Sergeant Barnes walks through the front door carrying two very full bags of groceries on his vibranium arm. He tosses a set of car keys into a little dish and locks the door behind him.

“Hey, babe,” Wilson calls out, catching his eye.

“You did it?” Barnes asks.

“Yeah.” Wilson tilts his head up.

Barnes rounds the corner, pecks Wilson on the lips with all the comfort and familiarity of a couple who have done it a thousand times. I hear him murmur, “Proud of you,” under his breath.

Barnes sets the groceries on the counter in front of me as Wilson introduces us.

“Call me Bucky,” says Barnes, reaching out with his right hand to shake mine. There’s a silver band on the fourth finger, and when I look back over at Wilson, he’s slipping his wedding ring out of the pocket of his jeans and putting it back on his left hand.

“Wasn’t sure if I’d be able to go through with all this,” he says, gesturing to me and my notepad. “I took the wedding pictures down in the living room too, before you got here.”

“I knew he could do it,” Barnes tells me. His voice is low, soft, and so quiet, a hint of an old Brooklyn accent underlying his words even now, despite everything he’s been through and everywhere he’s been. He shrugs out of his nondescript hoodie and tosses it on one of the unused stools, grabbing a kettle and putting it on the stove.

“Hibiscus or chamomile?” he asks me, pulling two boxes of tea bags from one of the grocery bags and letting me choose before turning to Wilson. “Bad news, hon. They were out of your whole wheat pita.”

“Again?” says Wilson, with feeling. “Really?”

“They only had the gluten free. I guess I could check the other store tonight, but it’s supposed to rain later, and I kinda don’t feel like going out again,” Barnes says, head buried in the cupboard as he stacks cans. “I was thinking maybe I could just try making ‘em. How does that sound? How hard can it be, right?”

“‘How does homemade pita sound,’ he says,” Wilson repeats, jabbing a thumb towards Barnes. “Can you believe this guy?”

“I honestly can’t.” It’s the truth. My brain refuses to reconcile this man with the supposed playboy I read about in my 11th grade history textbook, nor the internationally feared assassin.

“Is that a yes or no on the experimental homemade pita?” Barnes asks Wilson, still deep in the cupboard. “No promises on quality.”

“That’s a yes, Buck,” says Wilson, then he turns to me. “Don’t listen to him; he’s a great cook.”

The Winter Soldier is a great cook, I write in my notes. And then I realize this is my moment to shine.

“I actually know a good recipe for homemade pita,” I tell them. “It’s whole wheat.” That gets Barnes’s attention.

“You do?” he says, pulling out his phone. “Can you send it to—hmm.” He frowns. “Sam, it’s not showing the thing.”

“What thing?” Wilson asks, taking Barnes’s phone from his hand. “Oh, yeah, that’s cause it’s set to Contacts Only, Buck, you have to switch it to Allow Everyone.”

Wilson looks at me, smiling. “Bucky here hates technology—”

“—I don’t hate technology—”

“Oh yes you do, you won’t even let me get you an iPad—”

“Yeah, for what? What do I need it for? I wouldn’t even use—”

“You wouldn’t use one, huh? How about I stop letting you borrow mine for a couple of weeks, then we’ll see how you feel.” Wilson turns to me, passing Barnes’s phone back to him. “He should be showing up on your AirDrop now.”

Sure enough, I’m able to send the recipe link to Bucky’s iPhone. He thanks me and starts scrolling right through it, argument apparently totally forgotten.

As Barnes continues to read, periodically checking on the kettle; Wilson excuses himself to help put away the rest of the groceries, which are mostly produce.

“I hope you have like, immediate plans for these,” Wilson says, inspecting the avocados as he pulls them out of the paper bag. “They are ripe, man. Tomorrow’s gonna be too late for them.”

“Yeah I do, I was gonna make grilled chicken and avocado sandwiches for dinner,” Barnes replies. “I got tomatoes, swiss cheese—”

“What’s all this about pita then if we’re having sandwiches?” Wilson asks.

“No, the pita is the bread here,” Barnes explains. “You stuff everything in the pocket. I’m gonna have to get started pretty soon; probably gonna double the rising time since it’s cold out.” Wilson hums in apparent approval of this course of action.

I lose Wilson to the refrigerator for several minutes. He stands back up after arranging things in the crisper to his liking.

“Any chance I could get a peek at those wedding pictures?” I ask.

“Oh,” says Wilson. “That okay with you?” He turns to Barnes, who nods, carefully steeping bags of tea in three steaming mugs, and then leads me back to the living room.

Wilson has stashed two silver-framed pictures in a drawer of the coffee table, apparently in anticipation of my visit, and he pulls them out to show to me. Both are taken in front of a familiar-looking farmhouse, which I struggle with for a moment before placing it as the exact one in Captain Rogers’s watercolor painting that’s hanging to my left. Wilson’s suit in the photo is a matte but brilliant shade of cobalt; Barnes wears black.

One is of just the two of them, arms around one another and foreheads together. It’s almost too intimate to look at; I feel as though I’m intruding on something intensely private, even though Wilson is standing right here offering me a glimpse of it.

He puts that one back up onto the mantle.

The next is them in the center of a large group that consists of some people I recognize and others I don’t. Familiar faces include Dr. Bruce Banner [The Hulk], Clint Barton [Hawkeye], and Maria Hill [Deputy Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.]. Also present: King T’Challa of Wakanda and his sister, Princess Shuri. There’s a young girl in a white dress, carrying a flower basket and missing a front tooth, standing in front of [C.E.O. of Stark Industries] Pepper Potts. Next to them is a teenager with floppy brown hair doing an indescribably awkward double thumbs up.

“Who’s that?” I ask, pointing at him.

Wilson snorts. “Some punk. Family friend.”

That picture gets hung on the empty nail next to Captain Rogers’s painting.

Barnes knocks quietly on the doorway behind us. “Tea’s ready.”

An awkward silence settles in with us once we sit back down in the kitchen, Wilson and Barnes next to one another, and me across from them. I flip through my notes, taking a sip from my mug.. My drink is sweeter than I was expecting, because apparently the Winter Soldier has added agave to the hibiscus tea he made me. It’s delicious.

Barnes eventually breaks. “So whatcha go over so far?”

“How we got together, how we got engaged,” Wilson answers him. “In detail too, so if you don’t want that published, you’re gonna have to grovel at the journalist yourself, because you said—”

“Oh my god,” says Barnes, old-school New York sarcasm dripping from every word. “How dare you tell people about the best thing I ever did, huh? Now they’re gonna think I’m like, a sensitive, good guy, and here I’ve been coasting along on this murder cyborg image. What have you done, you dick?”

Wilson rolls his eyes.

“So...you’re okay with it?” I ask them, absolutely ready to scrub the record if he hesitates.

“You kidding me?” says Barnes. “Every other week comes up some new atrocity I committed against my will in like...the 70s, and you think I’m gonna be upset with people knowing that once in a while I say nice shit to someone I love? Write it. Please. Knock yourself out.”

Okay then. Since Barnes seems willing to talk, I ask them if I can throw them a few questions I have for them as a couple. Barnes looks as though he wasn’t anticipating this.

Wilson turns to him. “You wanna be here for this?”

Barnes nods slowly, hesitantly, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“You’re okay?” Wilson asks. “You decide you’re done at any point and I’ll end it. Or you can go hang out in the other room, your call.”

“I’m good for now,” Barnes decides. “I’ll let you know if that changes.”

“You can ask whatever you want,” Wilson says to me. “I can’t promise we’ll answer everything, but go ahead and shoot.”

“I guess the first question I have is: what’s the hardest thing about navigating your jobs as a couple? What bothers you the most about that?”

Wilson exhales loudly. “I mean, the obvious answer is the danger,” he says. “The nature of what we do is fundamentally unsafe. I think it goes without saying—I’ll still say it—that we’re always aware that one of us might not make it back from a mission, which is...” Wilson trails off for a moment, shaking his head. “You don’t get used to that feeling. The fear.”

“Mm hmm,” Barnes agrees, from behind his mug.

“And,” continues Wilson, “I’m also aware that by doing this interview, I’m putting Bucky in additional danger. I’m not naive enough to think that the people working against us won’t try to use my relationship with him as leverage against me.”

“That makes sense,” I say, because he’s absolutely right, and pretending that public knowledge of his marriage doesn’t put them both in a new kind of danger seems disingenuous. I face Barnes. “Your turn.”

“Racist assholes,” says Barnes immediately.

Wilson smirks and cocks his head in agreement. “Sometimes I think I’ve talked that subject to death, other times it’s like I could never hope to address it enough. Today feels like the first one.”

A diplomatic, but clear answer. Time to move on.

I’m about to ask the next question when he adds: “Another thing that gets under my skin is how it’s like Bucky’s image in the eyes of the general public is totally dependent on me hyping him up all the time. As far as I’m concerned, he’s proven himself a hundred times over, and yet if I’m not on T.V. reminding people of that every day, it’s suddenly like ‘oh, the Winter Soldier, can we ever really trust him?’

“I just… It bothers me. I want us to come to a collective understanding that everything that happened happened to Bucky, not because of him. It kinda circles back into another of the things I’m passionate about, which is mental health care and awareness. I think if we as a society were better about recognizing and addressing mental illness, and particularly Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, I wouldn’t have to keep having this conversation about my husband.”

Barnes’s face is getting pinker and he says nothing, but he’s smiling a little at Wilson, who puts an arm around his shoulders.

“Anyway, we can move on,” says Wilson, his expression going easy again. “Just had to get that out there one more time.”

“Hopefully this one’s a little more pleasant,” I say. “What inspired you to come forward about your relationship? I know you guys—” I gesture between them, ”—have been together for a couple years, so why now?”

“I want to go on a date in public,” says Bucky. “I haven’t been on a date since the 40s.”

“That’s right,” says Wilson. “We’re doing all this so I can take him Denny’s and hold his hand over a $6.99 Super Slam.”

When I finish laughing, Wilson continues. “Part of it’s because we realized it’s gonna get out there whether we like it or not. You already knew when you got here that we lived together, and that’s because that information got leaked to the public last week, so it was always just a matter of time before people found out anyway. I’d rather have some control over that narrative; better you hear it from me and Bucky, how we want to tell it, than in some tabloid.”

He’s right about that: they would undoubtedly have been outed one way or another. Their status as “roommates” was reported by TMZ a week and a half ago, and there was a Buzzfeed piece only yesterday, rife with gifs, entitled 15 Times Captain America and The Winter Soldier Made Us Wish We Were Their Third Roommate, that ended on the note of how Wilson and Barnes are “absolute BFF GOALS.” Wilson continues:

“But I think the biggest reason is that we decided, together, that we actually think it’s good for people to know. I’ve seen firsthand the impact that having a Black Captain America has had on the Black community and on the national topic of race, and we think—we hope—that a Captain America who is a member of the LGBT community will have a similar effect.

“The people who already hate me aren’t going to like me any better or worse for being bisexual, but some bisexual teenager out there is hopefully gonna read this article and feel a little bit better about themselves than they did before. That’s really the impact I want to have here. Got anything to add, Buck?”

“Actually, yeah,” says Barnes, staring at the counter in front of him and fiddling with his wedding ring. “I grew up gay in thirties. The idea of being able to just...tell people, that’s still amazing to me. The fact that I’m sitting here talking about it with a stranger and you’re not screamin’ in my face right now…”

“You do know I’m not straight either, right?” I ask him. I’m not exactly shy about that, it’s the kind of thing most people can tell just by looking at me.

“Even so,” says Barnes, finally looking me in the eye. “You fool around with a fella back in the day—or worse, you make a pass and he turns you down—then he knows about you, and then it’s like, what if he tells someone? Some of the worst shit I ever saw came from people who found out that way. So, other gay guys. Basically you never felt safe.”

“What about Captain Rogers?” I ask. “Did he know?”

“Oh yeah, Steve knew,” says Barnes with a dismissive wave of his hand, like that ought to be obvious. “He wasn’t gonna tell anyone; I got too much dirt on him.“

“Pfft. He’s messing with you,” Wilson interjects, directed at me. “There’s no dirt on Steve anywhere; believe me, I’d know by now if there was.”

“I want you to guess how many times I’ve had to clean up Steve’s puke,” says Barnes in a total deadpan, leaning forward. “Whatever number you think it is, the real answer is higher.

“This again,” says Wilson. “I keep telling you Buck, Steve throwing up on you at Coney Island isn’t the big scandalous story you seem to want it to be.”

“Sam wasn’t there, he didn’t see it,” Barnes insists. “We were with these girls and they just left us standing there by the Cyclone, covered in hot dog chunks. Actually, that part was kind of a relief ‘cause one of ‘em was definitely jonesing for me to kiss her before that, and I really didn’t want to.

“But seriously, after everything we went through together, I knew I could trust Steve with anything. And that made me luckier than most—at least I had one person. Lots of guys had no one.

“Anyway, my reasons for coming out with all this are probably more selfish than Sam’s. You know some of those Nazis—we’re callin’ ‘em something else these days, like ‘alt-right’ or whatever, but I know a Nazi when I see one—they have this crazy idea of what I was like back in the day. They’ve got this fantasy, like a golem of toxic masculinity with my face on it, and I just want to publicly shit on their dreams. Every date I ever went on with a girl was a total sham, and I was scared down to my bones that someone would figure that out. I fight because someone needs to and I’m good at it, but I hate hurting people and I’d much rather be sitting here cuddling on the couch with a man. This man.”

Barnes is grinning big and wide by the time he finishes—a real, genuine smile that brings out the sparkle in his eyes—and suddenly I feel like I’m catching a glimpse of what Wilson must be seeing in him. Wilson himself is laughing.

“I like how you snuck your little buzzword in there, baby,” he says. “Toxic masculinity. That’s one of Bucky’s things he learned about from his Wakandan therapist.

“Obviously super important,” Wilson adds, lest I think he’s making light of something serious.

“I think it’s great that we’re talking about it so openly now, especially with respect to the military.”

Barnes tilts his head in agreement, checking the time on his phone. We’re probably approaching the point at which he wants to get started on that pita bread, and I’m definitely in his way.

“So what’s next for you guys?” I ask.

“Isn’t that always the question?” Wilson asks, taking Barnes’s right hand in his left and resting them, intertwined, on the countertop. “Sometimes it’s aliens. Sometimes not. Who even knows anymore?”

“Hopefully, a whole lot more of this,” says Barnes, looking down at their hands.

Wilson smiles. “Well, that’s a given. That’s always.”

This is when Barnes gets up to pull a stand mixer out of one of the cupboards, and I read that as my cue to take my leave. I end my recording, Wilson thanks me for stopping by, I promise to give him an advance copy of my writing to make sure he’s comfortable with what I said, and I find myself standing back on the sidewalk of [REDACTED] moments later.

I’m not typically in the habit of including as many details about the dinner plans of my article subjects as I have here—and I’m certainly testing the limits of my editor’s patience with the word count—but in the spirit of Wilson’s wishes for what his coming out story will mean to the people of America, I wanted to emphasize how human his marriage is.

Barnes and Wilson have extraordinary jobs that they are undoubtedly uniquely suited for and that most of us will never fully understand, but they are also two people who have been through a lot of hardship and found happiness and peace in one another. And that’s something that most of us do understand: love, the human experience that transcends the divisions we give ourselves.

*From a press conference Wilson gave on May 7, 2025.

**From a statement written by Barnes and issued through a S.H.I.E.L.D. representative on November 1, 2023.

For further reading on Barnes, the author recommends:

1. Greatest Generation X: The Impossible Life of James Buchanan Barnes, by Ariel Guzman, published in 2025.

2. R.Y. Uhlencott’s column “The Wolf of Brooklyn” in the October 2024 issue of Time covers the basic timeline and trajectory of Barnes’s life.

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #winterfalcon #mcu #marvel #tfatws #sam(antha) tag #my fanfic tag #fanfic

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marvelsswansong · 4 years

Text

Peach Lipgloss

Summary: He’s a sophmore at MIT who has hung up his superhero suit for university. She’s a well known killer with the power to seduce and manipulate anyone she pleases. Of course the universe would make them soulmates.

Words: 6.1K

Tags: soulmate au (soulmates can’t hurt each other), forbidden love (kinda), college!Peter, femmefatale!reader. Violence, heavy sexual themes, proceed with caution.

a/n: REPOST since first one didn’t show up in tags :( sorry to those who already read this 4 hours ago

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Massachusetts, USA

Quickly shoving his crinkled notes into his bag, Peter was the first person to be out of the classroom the moment Theoretical Physics was done and over with. Reaching for the zipper as he made his way out the marbled doors, he paused at the sight of the crumpled red and black fabric in his bag.

He didn’t know why he still carried his spiderman suit with him, considering the vow he’d made to pack it away along with his hero life the moment he arrived at MIT. But the lingering sense of danger and doubt never left him so he could never quite part with it, so he always kept the suit and extra shooters in a concealed compartment in his backpack.

He never knew when he’d need it, he reasoned.

Crossing the large green lawn, he breathed in the earthy air, staring up at the clear blue sky. Fall was starting to roll into the state of Massachusetts, the trees lining the sidewalk were orange and red, and the lawn of daffodils under the library building had begun to bloom. He greeted a group of people he recognized from his engineering class as he crossed over to the south-side of the campus, passing by a row of cluttered dorms. He checked his wristwatch- the one May had gifted him before he left for university- still 10 minutes left until class started.

He slipped into the empty classroom and sat on the first row of chairs when his cellphone started ringing. Peter frowned, his mind failing to think of who would need to speak to him during school hours. He unlocked it to see Tony’s name appear on the screen, a sight only reserved for emergencies.

“We’ll only call you if we can’t do it without you.” his mentor had said, the day before Peter had left for MIT.

“Hello?” Peter answered quietly, as a few students began to fill into the room.

“How quickly can you come to Santorini?”

Tony sounded exhausted on the other side of the phone. Peter nervously chewed on his lip, not liking where this conversation was going.

“With all due respect, Mr.Stark, I can’t just drop everything right now and fly to Greece. I have-”

“Nuclear Science and Engineering right now, I know. I also know you have finals in a month but that’s nothing I can’t call in a favour for. I happen to be good friends with the Dean and the Provost of MIT.”

More people began filling the room as the professor walked in, forcing Peter to cover his phone with his hand and whisper, turning away from the crowd.

“I get that, but, I’m taking a break from the whole hero business. I want to focus on university and having a life without risking it every few days, you know?”

“And I agree that you should have all those things. Come on, Peter. I haven’t called you for a mission for the first year and a half of your university. I meant what I said when I told you we’d only call you if we literally couldn’t do it without you. I’m begging you, kid.”

Peter could imagine Tony pinching the bridge of his nose, pacing around the room in frustration while trying to convince Peter. He was reluctant, but the desperation in Tony’s voice didn’t go unnoticed and his hands were moving faster than his brain. Packing his things back up, he quietly exited the classroom and sighed into the phone.

“Okay, I’ll come.”

“Great. Don’t worry about your classes or your exams, I’ll make sure it’s handled. Pack enough for two weeks. I’m sending you a private jet to your nearest airport in two hours. See you then.”

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

Santorini, Greece

Peter felt like he was melting under the hot Grecian sun, the sticky humid air mixing with the ocean breeze blowing in from the southwest. He adjusted his sunglasses, the sweat causing it to slide down the bridge of his nose repeatedly, his skin smelling of an odd combination of aftershave and sunscreen. It felt strange, to say the least, to go from spending months in grey sweatpants and thick burgundy hoodies in the freezing cold weather of Cambridge to now being dressed down in a red Hawaii shirt and grey khakis in the sunny island of Santorini.

“You okay, Peter?” Steve called out from behind him, wearing a not so obvious disguise of a baseball cap paired with white rimmed sunglasses. That said, they needed to ‘blend in’, as Tony put in, and Peter had to admit- among the crowds, they just looked like a group of innocent American tourists. And not a band of superheroes, trying to catch a super-villain in her acts.

“I’m fine, just… thirsty.” he replied, swallowing thickly.

“I’ll get you some water.”

Steve told Peter to stay put and disappeared into a nearby path lined with shops, leaving the young boy in the middle of the cobblestone street. The rest of the team were scattered across the island in an attempt to catch her, an infamous killer with no name, no trace. Just a pretty face and a signature carving of a heart on her victim’s bodies. He’d gotten the information dump on the plane ride here, in which Maria drilled the information into his head.

“This is all the information we’ve gathered on her so far.” her tone was somber as she flicked over a thin manila folder to him, which he opened with a flick of his thumb before holding up the piece of paper.

“It’s one page.”

She bit her lip, frustrated.

“We’ve been unsuccessful in gathering much information about her. What we have on her is ambiguous at best, except a few things: she’s about 20, she’s a master seductress, able to seduce anyone into carrying out her commands. She kills her prey and carves a heart onto their bodies. And the only way to avoid her powers is to avoid looking into her eyes.”

“Is there even a photo of what she looks like?” he questioned, his curiosity piqued.

“A few we’ve managed to piece together from some security cameras.”

She tossed him a few pictures onto his lap, each varying in quality. From the set, however, he could make out that she had (h/c) hair, a light/dark/middle skin-tone, and was of a short/regular/tall stature. It looked like she was wearing a sparkly silver dress in the first photo, which was taken on the side of a street in Milan, then a pink checkered tank top and matching skirt in the second one, taken in Paris, and an over-sized black hoodie with black heels on a bridge in London.

The photos were either too dark or taken too far away to really catch her face, but just by looking at these photos he could tell- she was beautiful. Stunning, even. Even without powers he was sure she could seduce anyone she liked.

“Thing is, she always gets away right before we can catch her. SHIELD has been onto her for a while but no matter who we send, no matter how discreet, low level or which gender… they end up dead or return back dazed with no memory of what happened.”

Peter raised his eyebrow.

“Is that a part of it?”

Maria sighed..

“Depends. Sometimes she doesn’t kill the people she uses her powers on and the victims just end of having a dazed, hazy feeling for a few hours. They then have a hard time remembering what exactly happened, making our job infinitely harder.”

An uneasy silence filled the air, as Peter shifted in his seat. This sounded like the hardest mission yet.

“So why am I needed?”

“Your supernatural senses allow you to sense any immediate danger or harm nearby you, regardless of sight, right? So we’re hoping that you’re able to fight and capture her without ever being under her influence, by closing your eyes and relying on your ‘spidey senses’ instead. Do you still have your web shooters on you?”

He nodded.

“If you find her, web her to her surroundings, turn around so you’re not looking into her eyes, then call us over. She can’t influence all of us at once, so that’d give us an advantage and plenty of time to sedate her and bring her over.”

The web shooter concealed underneath his wrist watch was starting to itch, breaking the somewhat vacational bliss he was feeling from sitting on the edge of the white wall and watching the waves go by. Checking the time with a flick of his wrist, it dawned on him that Steve had disappeared to get him some water for a bit too long. Fifteen minutes to be exact.

What was going on?

He slipped into the alleyway where Steve disappeared, wandering straightforward rather aimlessly until he caught sight of the familiar blonde hair a few feet away. Except, his back was turned towards Peter as he lounged on a chair on the outskirts of a cafe, and he was talking to someone he didn’t recognize. Adrenaline kicked in, forcing Peter to duck behind a nearby corner before his eyes fell on the woman Steve was talking to.

It was her.

The woman in the photos.

And fuck, you were stunning. You weren’t wearing anything particularly fancy, just a white lacy sundress and pink pastel flats, but every crevice of the fabric clung to your skin glowing in the caramel sunlight, making the modest piece somehow sensual and teasing. Sitting with one leg crossed over the other he felt as if you were teasing any wandering gaze to land upon your skin, calling out with the same lull as a siren’s. Your lips were painted glossy pink and Peter realized that your eyes were glowing the same shade, a glittery candy floss pink that reflected in Steve’s previously blue orbs.

“So what brings you here, soldier?” you questioned, toying with the soldier.

Your voice dripped like sweet honey and wrapped around your surroundings like a vice.

“On a mission to bring you in.” Peter noted that Steve’s voice was suddenly robotic and eerily not like him.

You pursed your lips, crossing your arms.

“So SHIELD is still after me, huh? You know, even HYDRA was less insisting.”

Wrapping your hand around Steve’s arm, you brought him closer towards you as you felt the cold steel surface of your knife shift underneath your dress, the blade itching to dig into fresh skin.

“I should kill you, you know. You and the Avengers just keep on coming after me and I’m getting tired of playing around…” you drawled, quiet for no one else to hear you except for Peter with his superhero senses.

Peter could feel his heart pound in his chest, as Steve stood motionless while you took out the large sharp blade and started trailing it down Steve’s leg, hidden from plain sight, with not enough pressure to break the skin just yet. Peter quickly took out his phone and alerted Tony of his current location, as you paid for the meal and led Steve towards a dark alleyway, surely to dispose of the super soldier.

Tony’s reply was immediate.

‘Got it. Stay put. Don’t interfere unless you have to.’

Crouching back down, Peter quickly took off his backpack and changed into his suit, before slowly trailing behind you.

The flat side of the blade was now underneath Steve’s throat, right where it could slice through the jugular veins and kill him. His pink hooded eyes were still looking at you as you smiled, leaning in and leaving a soft kiss on his lips.

“Sad… you were one of my favorites.”

You raised your blade in the air, ready to slash his throat, when a flash of white passed by and knocked the blade out of your hand. Peter quickly ran out, one hand over his eyes and the other outstretched to pull Steve backwards and out of harm’s way.

“S-stay back.” he muttered, the lack of vision plus the adrenaline adding to his anxiety. Your eyes widened upon seeing the red and black hero standing in front of you, in Greece, of all places.

This was certainly an interesting development.

“Now why would I do that?” you asked, pulling a gun out of your thigh holster and aiming it towards him.

“Because the rest are coming.” he replied, thankful that is voice was no longer shaking.

Your eyes widened at the response before you pouted, trailing your bottom lip dangerously with your tongue.

“In that case… Captain-”

Steve stood right up straight at the sound of your voice, pushing Peter backwards.

“Take him out for me, would you?”

And before Peter could do or say anything, Steve swung his fist in his direction, forcing Peter to open his eyes and jump back. By the time he looked at where you were standing before you were gone, the realization sticking in his mind for a brief moment before Steve tried to knock him back down again.

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

Tokyo, Japan

A few days after the disaster in Santorini (Steve still wouldn’t look him in the eye after he snapped out of his violent trance three hours later when the effect wore off), the team had gotten word that she was spotted out and about in Japan. And that led Peter here, standing in the middle of a busy street crossing, surrounded by big flashing billboards and tall glass skyscrapers. He adjusted his light rimmed glasses- they had a tiny microscopic camera attached to the lens that could record everything- as he shoved through the busy crowd, the address written in the note inside his coat pocket replaying in his head.

After a few unsuccessful conversations with locals who were passing by, he was lucky enough to run into someone who spoke moderate English. She gave him an odd look when he handed over the piece of paper and she typed in the address onto her phone, but nonetheless pointed him in the right direction. He thanked her before walking east, the loud noise of scurrying feet and the whirring of cars driving by blocking his thoughts.

“Peter? Can you hear me?” Tony’s voice rang out through his earpiece, causing Peter to discreetly adjust it. After the not so successful attempt last time to capture her, the team had advised a new plan- Peter would go in alone without his suit but with just his web shooters, pretending to be just another patron at the club, and talk to her discreetly before trapping her with his web before the others could take her in.

He was just lucky his face was concealed the first time they met.

“Yes. I’m almost at the address you gave me. It’s a club, right?”

There was a momentary pause.

“Yeah, it’s a club. Point is, be careful. We’ll be watching your every move and we can hear everything that’s going on, so don’t worry.”

“I’ll be cautious.”

The building that matched the address was a modestly sized glass building with steel doors and a menacing looking bodyguard outside, who asked him for his ID in perfect English. After giving the man his school ID he was let inside where a skimpily clad woman asked him for his coat, the little blue bikini number leaving little to the imagination. His face felt hot and his throat tightened when he hastily took off his coat and gave it away to the woman, as the realization settled in.

He wasn’t in just any club.

He was in a stripclub.

Swallowing his embarrassment the best he could, he quietly went through the next set of glass doors, which led out to a dim hallway lit up by bright pink LED lights. A slew of men and a couple of women sat around the bar and near the light up stages, where several girls in tight dresses twirled around the pole set to a sensual song. It was hard to make out the faces under the dim blue lighting, so he opted to blend in by walking to the bar in the middle and ordering a drink. He tried to look anywhere but where the scantily clad women were and stared at a nearby TV screen instead, when a familiar voice interrupted his train of thought.

“Strawberry Daiquiri, please.”

You were facing straight forward, thus allowing Peter to catch a quick glance at you. You sensed a set of eyes on your figure and looked back, only to see Peter blushing and looking down at his lap to avert his gaze. Sliding over a few seats, you leaned against the bar table, the slit on your mini skirt exposing your upper thigh.

“It’s rude to stare, you know.” you commented slyly, drinking in the sight of him. He was younger than most of your prey- you preferred to go for men who were older than you- but he looked just as good as the others. Tousled brown curls, defined muscles flexing underneath his white polo shirt, a shy demeanor… He was adorable.

“S-sorry.” he murmured, still not looking into your eyes. You figured he was nervous and chuckled, taking a slow slip of your sugary drink.

“It’s alright… you’re not a part of this usual crowd, are you?”

“Good. Keep on talking to her to distract her. We’re on our way.” Tony spoke in Peter’s ear. He regained his confidence to look up for a brief moment to snatch his drink off the table, the strong taste of whiskey burning his throat.

“What makes you say that?” he asked quietly, swirling his drink with his straw. You leaned closer, the sweet draft of your vanilla and honeycomb lotion drifting over him as you smirked.

“Well, for starters, you’re not looking at any of the strippers here. And two, you’re not even looking at me.”

He needed an excuse, so he blurted out the first thing that came into his mind.

“Sorry, I just, uh, I have a hard time looking at pretty girls.”

You were caught off guard by that comment, and it showed for a brief moment on your face. You were used to men calling you a slew of names, but calling you pretty? In such a sincere way? While blushing? This was new. A new urge surged through your veins as you placed your hand on his lap, rubbing his thigh.

“Then what’d you say we go somewhere more private? Like the VIP Lounge? You can look at me all you want then.”

He nodded shyly and allowed you to drag him to the back area of the club, where you slipped a security guard five hundred dollars to let you pass the velvet rope with him behind you. There was no one else in sight, just the two of them and the soft cushiony sofa lining the walls. His throat felt dry as you pushed him down onto the seat, your body straddling his as you climbed onto his lap.

“So-”

A sharp ringing noise cried out in his ear, causing Peter to yelp in pain and rip out the earpiece in reflex. You quickly put two and two together before ripping off his glasses and grabbing his chin to force him to look at you, the brief moment of shock and confusion on his face enough time for you to put him under your trance. The tension left his body as his eyes turned pastel pink, allowing you to crawl off his lap and crush the earpiece under your heels. You did the same to the glasses, just for good measure, before taking out the wallet from his jeans.

You examined the cards inside, starting with the ID cards. Name: Peter Parker. Sophomore at MIT. A Stark Tower entry pass?

You scowled, tossing the wallet to the side. That probably meant they were on their way right now. Taking out a four inch blade from your bra, you decided you needed to send them a message. Pushing his head to the side, you were ready to slice his throat, the tip of your blade against his skin, and-

Nothing.

Your hand stayed frozen mid-air, your brain screaming at your body to carry on with the action but your body remained frozen. Bringing your hand back down, you tried again, this time a stab to the heart. But you physically couldn’t harm him, no matter the angle at which you tried.

“Fuck.”

Letting out a shaky breath, you dropped the blade in horror and stepped backwards, the realization settling in your gut. If you couldn’t kill him, that meant…

The thought horrified you to no end, the kind of immediate horror that made you want to throw up onto the floor, the previously loud pounding of the music drowned to the background as the walls began to close in on you. Blinking away your tears, you commanded Peter to stay sitting in his room before grabbing your coat and exiting the room, being able to find a nearby window that you could jump down from. Your feet met the ground as you wrapped the coat closer to your body, your heels clicked against the pavement as you quickly hired a cab back to your mansion.

This was bad.

So, so bad.

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

New York, USA

When Peter awoke from his trance he was lying down on a soft bed with a weighted blanket in what seemed like the hospital wing of Stark Tower, with streaks of sunlight streaming in through the gaps in the window. His memory felt foggy, the last thing he remembered was being terrified when the earpiece malfunctioned and your eyes turned bright pink with anger. His thoughts were interrupted when Bruce walked into the room, a soft smile on his face.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, handing over a glass of water. Peter accepted it, muttering a quiet thank you.

“Strange… What happened?”

The doctor sighed, biting his lower lip.

“We’re not sure. She crushed the glasses we gave you right after she found out you had an earpiece in, but when we entered the room, you were left unharmed, just sitting on the sofa.”

“Unharmed? I thought she liked to kill all her prey. Or at the very least, hurt them in some way.”

Bruce nodded, scribbling something onto his notepad.

“That’s the thing. We have no clue why you were the odd exception. Director Fury has been wracking his brain for the past seven hours trying to figure out why she spared you.”

A momentary silence passed by, as Peter looked up at the man with an unsure gaze.

“What now?” he asked, the thoughts of MIT and returning to Cambridge still in his mind.

“We’re going to try to monitor her route for a little longer and devise a new plan. I know Tony said you only needed two weeks off but Fury insists that you’re the key to capturing her and wants you to stay on for at least another week.”

Peter sighed, giving in.

“I guess that’s fine. I mean, what choice do I really have?”

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

Milan, Italy

It’d been a solid week since you last killed a man.

A whole seven days.

You were sure the Avengers were noticing your absence, trying to understand just why you’d spared one of their precious heroes and then went dark for a whole week afterwards. Just thinking back on that night made your stomach turn, the way adrenaline pumped through your veins as you were prepared to kill your soulmate.

For the first time in a while, you were disgusted with yourself. You had almost killed your soulmate, and in another universe where you could harm him, he would’ve been dead at your hands. It was getting harder and harder to remember why you’d started this life as you lounged in a private pool in Milan, the mansion overlooking a dark green forest.

It was in a dimly lit facility, a few hundred miles from here, that had turned you into this force of nature. Having lost your parents to a car accident at a young age, you were starved and anxious for any sort of money when you overheard that a scientist was offering hundreds of thousands of dollars to a woman who was willing to be his test subject. He was seductive, older, and richer. You fell for his promises and signed your life away at the age of 15.

Five months of torture later, you awoke to see that your eyes were glowing pink. When you made eye contact with a security guard nearby he wordlessly opened the prison door for you, and shot the scientist who experimented on you right on the spot. Grabbing the keys from the man’s lab coat, you pulled out the file filled with the names of the investors from all over the world who’d donated to help this man corrupt and abuse you.

And apparently, you weren’t his first test subject.

You grabbed his wallet on the way out and hopped into a car parked on the sidewalk of a gas station, and never looked back since then. You were young and scared, but hungry for revenge. You’d make sure those men would pay, and any other man who would try to take advantage of young girls, for that matter.

Killing was the only option.

Perhaps you’d lost your morality along the way, you reasoned. If you had any, in the first place. What started out as a semi-respectable revenge killing spree had somehow morphed into an exhilarating repeated cycle of seduction, murder and money. A disgusting sensation was settling in- perhaps guilt- as you huffed and threw away your sunglasses to the side.

No, you were doing the right thing. You knew the things that the Avengers believed above you- dangerous, homicidal, killer of innocent men. You laughed at that notion- as if most of your victims weren’t assholes in some ways, or didn’t treat you like an animal to be hunted down and ravaged. Sharpening your knife on the kitchen counter, you breathed in and out slowly, calming yourself down. This whole soulmate business was really messing with your head.

You needed a fresh new kill to settle your mind.

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

London, UK

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Tony asked Peter for what felt like the thousandth time of that night, anxiety gnawing in his gut. In reality, there wasn’t much left to be discussed- Fury had insisted Peter stay on this project till the moment of your capture, even though at this point Tony had had enough of keeping Peter away from his education and was actually fighting for Peter’s right to return to university. But Peter felt a sort of curiosity and a pull to you that he couldn’t explain, so he found himself insisting on going on this mission.

They’d been able to finally find a link amongst the men you would target- well, at least a somewhat common link. A large majority of them happened to be investors in an Italian company that specialized in biochemical engineering, and it so happened that a handful of them were meeting in an exclusive rooftop party in London- making the chances of your appearance higher than ever.

“Remember, this time, don’t even hesitate. The moment you see her, shoot the tranquilizer in her direction so we can subdue her.” Steve repeated, handing over the tranquilizer gun to him. Peter nodded, slipping it into the waistband of his pants so that it wouldn’t be noticeable to anyone nearby. “The rest of us will be in disguise around the party, right by your side, just in case anything goes wrong.”

“Sounds good.”

It was hard to keep the nerves off of his voice, when he himself felt on edge about the whole thing. There’d been countless of times, even before he was called in, when they were so close to capturing you. But you’d always managed to slip past their fingers at a moment’s notice, disappearing without a trance before popping up with a new victim on the other side of the world.

The party was in full swing when Peter strolled in, and his eyes immediately began to search for a woman of your stature. Gently pushing through the crowd of drunk dancers, he passed by the champagne bar when he saw someone who looked a lot like you from the back sitting by the balcony, chatting with another woman whom he did not recognize. Knowing it was too early to strike, Peter treated himself to a glass of wine, keeping one eye on you at all times. When the other woman got up to use the bathroom, Peter took out his gun from his waistband and positioned it perfectly, his finger on the trigger-

He couldn’t shoot.

He swore, checking to make sure the gun was fully loaded before trying again, but nothing.

Frustrated, he placed the glass aggressively on a nearby table and marched out onto the balcony, the gun still aimed at you. But no matter the mental gymnastics he put himself through, he just couldn’t fucking shoot.

“Peter?”

Your voice wrapped around him, soft and sweet, as Peter edged forward, the gun in his hand beginning to shake with all the effort he was putting into shooting. Then in his adrenaline clouded mind it finally clicked- the longing, the pull, the inability to harm you…

“Y-you’re my soulmate.” he stuttered, the last word hanging in the air. You looked away, not wanting to meet his eyes, as he stood motionless in his spot. He should be alerting the rest of the group. He should, at the very least, be tugging you into the party to be captured. But he can’t move, his feet stuck to the floor as the weight of gravity on his back seems to increase. He’s speechless as you lowly speak, your eyes fixated on the floor.

“Listen… you can’t hurt me, I can’t hurt you. Just let me go.”

“I can’t do that.” he says firmly, his consciousness slowly starting to seep back in.

She’s beautiful, he thinks, as she crosses her arms over her chest and glares at him, her doe eyes wet from the salty tears beginning to form.

“Why not? It’s not like we can even be together.”

He slowly walks over and places his hands on you, expecting you to push him away. But you don’t, gaze still on the floor and unmoving. He doesn’t quite know what to say, the emotions overwhelming but the words not able to move past his tongue.

“Are you here with the other Avengers?”

He nods, swallowing thickly.

“Then I should get going.” you respond, starting to pull up the hems of your dress. But he stops you, grabbing you wrist, and stopping you mid-way.

“W-wait. Don’t go.”

You laugh halfheartedly.

“Then go where?”

He waits for a moment, but then he drops the question.

“Do you trust me?” he decides to ask, pulling your chin upwards. “Please don’t use your powers on me, just tell me. Do you trust me?”

There’s a slight hesitation on your end but you nod.

“Then come with me to New York.”

That elicits a violent reaction from you as you push him off, your eyes wide with anger and shock.

“Are you fucking serious? You want me to turn myself in?” you yell, not caring about who hears you. He clenches his jaw at your response.

“All I’m saying is I want my soulmate to be with me, and safe.”

You let out a bitter laugh at that statement.

“With you? Peter, you don’t even know my real name. You don’t even know me, as a person. You’re an MIT educated superhero. I’m wanted in 72 countries and have killed men in the triple digits. Do you really think I’d be welcomed with open arms?”

His eyes darken at the mention of your death as he clenches his fist, his gaze unnerving.

“I won’t let them harm you.”

His stubbornness is infuriating.

“That’s the thing, Parker! You don’t get to decide whether or not I get harmed.”

“Why won’t you just trust me?” his tone is low but still soft as he marches towards you and grabs your wrist. You try to pull away but can’t, the sudden strength catching you off guard.

“Because apparently, you don’t care about me enough to see that it’s a fucking death sentence if I go back with you to New York-”

Your rant is cut off with a swift kiss to your lips, you can taste the underlying tones of his half-drunken cherry wine and your peach lipgloss mixing together. His teeth tug at your bottom lip as his hand grips your waist, shoving you against the marble column overlooking the balcony. All the anger and fear that’s been running through your mind the past few hours melts away and you swear he’s putting a trance on you, and not the other way around. When he finally pulls back, his gaze is determined and his lips are swollen, his calloused hand rubbing up against your soft skin.

“You’re wrong. I care. I care so fucking much about you that I don’t want you to run anymore. Aren’t you tired, angel? Of running. Of never being able to make allies. Of always being alone, never being able to settle down?”

You’re silent as he sighs, wishing he could read your mind.

“Angel-”

“(Y/n). My name is (Y/n).”

He softens at the mention of your name.

“(Y/n)... please, come with me.”

There’s a million different things you want to say, but all you can think about is that he smells like fresh laundry and lavender, and his skin is right against yours. You want to say yes.

“I need a night to think about it.” you mutter. To your surprise (and somewhat dismay) he wholeheartedly agrees, and pleads with you to allow him to follow you back to your house to spend the night. You can’t find the way to say “no” when he’s looking at you like that, the type of gaze that has you slammed against the wall of your bedroom an hour later with his jacket and cellphone tossed hazardously in the corner of your room.

“Is this okay?” he’s asking as he’s already pinning you down onto the mattress, layers being shedded faster than he’s speaking. You nod, bringing him back down for another kiss.

“One night to think about it, yeah?” he whispers against your lips, and the guilt starts settling in. But it’s replaced by a fire when his hands start wandering lower and you nod.

“Right. One night.”

Any sort of remorse or doubt you have dissipates into thin air, lost in ecstasy.

“Peter.”

After disabling his tracker and disappearing from any communications with the team for a whole 24 hours, Peter suddenly shows up back at Stark Tower, his eyes glazed over in a sickly pink hue as he stares down at Tony. It takes Sam dousing a cold bucket of water over Peter’s head to get him to snap out of his trance, his irises returning to their original hazel colour as he stands up straight, caught off guard by the sudden cold.

“Peter, you okay? Where were you?” Steve interrogates, concerned.

“I…” he tries to tell them, but his memory is a pleasant blank. He remembers arriving to the party and having a drink, but that’s about it.

“Did she hurt you?” Bruce asks, gently examining Peter’s head for any injuries.

“Who?”

They all look at him as if he’s crazy.

“You know? The killer? The one who seduces men with her eyes, the same person we’ve been trying to catch the past three weeks?”

Peter’s confusion just doubles and this elicits a quiet argument between the group, but one that Peter can’t force himself to listen to as he feels a strange sensation in his chest. There’s an odd ache in his chest that he can’t quite place, a type of dread that’s similar to the feeling of forgetting something important, but he can’t remember why. He shifts uncomfortably in his place before licking his lips as a reflex, tasting the remnants of last night.

His lips tasted sweet. Frowning, he dabs his lips with his finger, feeling the sticky residue.

Huh.

There’s something missing but he can’t find it in his mind, no matter how hard he’s forcing himself to think back.

All he tastes is peaches.

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

a/n: :( :( I KNOW I KNOW the ending isn’t happy but to me it felt like the best way to end it. Please take a few seconds to like/reblog/comment/inbox me if you enjoyed it! It’ll mean so much to me.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker one-shot #peter parker oneshot #spiderman x reader #avengers x reader #marvel reader insert #marvel x reader #marvel fanfiction #a repost since tumblr sucks at tags

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smndragon · 3 years

Note

HI HI HI HOW ARE YOU?

ME:fine

My big three are Pisces sun 11th house (if houses are allowed), capricorn moon 8th house (💀) and Taurus rising!

And yes most of my planets are in detriment 🥲

Thank you luv! Take your time 💞

First off I had to sit up in bed it's so late here (I'm fine I'm watching history stuff rn on the Victorian era)

Second off let's go hm. This is honestly gonna be awkward. My methods are confusing I'm sorry and sometimes I may mix energies😭 Pisces sun, Capricorn moon, and Taurus rising. Have to turn my tv down to connect. (Took my hair down so I'm feeling more energy and I love it)

NO MORE STALLING I NEED TO DO THIS. the Pisces sun and Capricorn moon are reaching out more than Taurus rising. (Possibly form reading those first lol) when I see the pisces I see flames for some reason? Something cold along those lines, the fire feels like I could pass through it dancing and it wouldn't burn me one bit. The Pisces sun is retracting it's touch so going to come back in a bit. Multiple marionettes are in the distance of the Pisces sun home, women and men all alike in fashionable ballet poses. Hung up on the walls with black paper. The walls of a weirdly enough idol? I see fairy lights of cool colors and bright lights. The walls are blue and white, color changing over and over. I don't see the Pisces until typing this, in the middle of the room, on pillows of all arctic tones. (My screen broke so typing this hurts my eyes kinda sorry for typos) the Pisces takes the form of a wise and authentic sheep or lamb. Fish in bottles cover the rooms shelves and book holdings. Many jars of items never seen before by modern eyes or old. (Though they do seem modern in a way I just ramble and write this all at once sorry) from the dancers I believe you may enjoy the finer arts of things related, or stand in your kitchen with songs or silence somehow making your own music. The pictures move on the walls creating fairytales and stories of all kinds. Leaning towards probable loss of childhood or the indulgence in stories close to your heart. The Pisces sun may be placed in the chest, lower stomach, or left hip? It cools your heart sometimes but you do seem very warm. I keep thinking of Hans Christian Andersen and his stories in my mind, possible Disney adaptions. Your Pisces sun offers warm hot chocolate to it's passerbys, the walls turn to the form of an iced igloo (possible misspelling) the place your Pisces sun offers in other people's hearts is undeniable, true to their beliefs and nature, sweaters adorn it's wool. Possible love for warmth and bigger clothing unless parties come around. I feel the Pisces sun could offer difficulty in relationships because of its worrying nature at times, the Pisces is more fiery than common belief but it still holds meek under certain presences. "Hide me" it keeps saying, moving from it's pillows to behind me. It loves it's host too much, it has been with you in more cases than just this lifetime, I feel it new it would reach you someday as most zodiacs do. The sun's eyes are so wide they hold galaxies, love for stars and hearts or heads filled with the knowledge of them. Curiosity has killed this sign so many times it stopped looking on its own. Your host body helps it explore and it thanks you for that.

THIS IS SO LONG ALREADY.

Your Capricorn moon is dear to you. It sometimes pushes the Pisces sun over in order to make room for itself. It takes the form of a bull, headfirst hitting your heart with it's passion and longing. It shakes the core of your other zodiacs, waking them every morning like an alarm. This could possibly cause headaches, pain in your sided, or heartburn? The dark sleek hairs on the bull have gifted you the roots of your hair (not color just strength and devotion to grow). I now see the possibility of baldness at some point? Either by choice or you've thought "f*ck it why not?" But didn't go through. The bull had a golden cow ring, it shines in distance. The light creates a desert image to the people witnessing it. The Capricorn moon entices the mystery and wanting form others that gods had gifted its patrons. Your hair is a natural element of your being. I see messy mornings with a toothbrush in the holder. Standing in front of the mirror a host looks into their eyes looking for the Capricorn. A tiny bit of reminiscence is the eyelashes of your eye and the marks on your skin either moles or beauty wise. I saw an image of a cow looking birthmark and that's adorable but not a probable so ignore. "Love" it tells you this with every hit of its horns on your heart. Love until you're bleeding but not when you're burnt. Carry it's fire and temper and show it to anyone who pains your loved ones or crosses its borders. Don't flush people out, just learn that you will always matter and the Capricorn moon will always be there. It has engraved it's initials in the form of hooves so far deep into your flesh you will never not feel it. I see clear skin which could have been helped with facial products or natural and pure sweat. The bulls hard work always pay off, and the sweat at the end of the day will always be a sign of its natural influence. Highly intelligent and most utterly gorgeous. Okay well while I was writing this it took a turn and started coming after me so we'll leave it there. I keep coming back here god, sickness or flus were common once to your body or mind, the pain has washed over (past current or future?) Placement definitely near the heart or lungs. They seems cracked in the future, avoid smoking.

I feel I haven't given enough information hopefully it'll give more later on.

"hold me" "me, me, me" I keep hearing it form your signs. The Taurus ascendant loves the fire of your Capricorn moon. It admires the reigning image of the zodiac and wishes to connect with it. Often they hide away from you in dreams, enjoying thoughts and snacks, talking of what's to come in the next hosts life. (They still love you don't worry) you leave them wondering how they got here, how their host became the person they are now. They whisper congratulations to you in your sleep, sometimes wandering your housing area, looking for parts of you in every little thing. The Pisces sun seems more isolated from the rest but they force them to deal with their presence. (Pieces secretly loves it) the Taurus rising works exactly well with the bull Capricorn, waking the same and sleeping the same. It love to chat and talk the boots off of your conscience. Arguing it should be able to hold some power and that the consequences will be worthit. They honestly need to take a break, I thought of them in stripper boots and heels pointing at the sun💀 I'm guessing that's the house of your mind in the desolate desert. The Taurus rising offers crops and room for experience and experimenting growth. Crops of corn, greens, and etc. It carries fields and fields of cropping on its back. Dealing with your struggles by coating them in salt and good food. This makes me think there's a possibility people think you take things too lightly. That's not always the case you just worry over and are both tired of it at the same time possibly. You've down your work and you don't owe much to this world unless you offer. Retract your hand if you need please you deserve it. Lay back with shades and swim wear even in the broad neighborhood those people's thoughts shouldn't matter. The Taurus rising has taken your burdens, it worries not for your future as it plans on keeping close eyes on the plants and fields in your chest and body. Vines of fruits of all kinds grow on the legs area, possible things associated with that area in life or mind.

All in all your signs balance you with love, kindness in the form of drinks, handshakes between all time friends, warm goodbyes, lovely future meals, and more. They care for you and no matter what your decision is they appreciate your thoughts. Your method is precise, always carry on and back it up.

For future health I see fevers and malnourishment, not to worry with your friends and loved ones in the future or from the past. Possible miscarriage if heavily dosed on certain things, I see birth control, pain relievers, and stuff to take the edge off involving cars. Careful driving. Honestly, hit your head on the steering wheel when you're stressed it's been a long time coming and it'll heal🤍 you have a good proportioned body. Skin is soft and loved by all who see it. Your smile is so intoxicating it should take place of the sun. "Hold your friends close and your enemies closer" I saw that and I love the vibe it gives off, feels like a mob boss person and I dig it. Keep doing you, I don't see many problems just keep going you're doing great and the afterlife that you believe in or even if not at all is prepared with roses and decorative caskets filled with all your most fashionable items. The Taurus brings out fashion and luxury so it's not a surprise you may like the finer afterlife you've got all set up. Kiss the devil if you see him he adores you (not wishing bad just saw it). I keep seeing people form peaky blinders. Possible other zodiac influence is Gemini, Virgo sun or moon, I see the weird word hysteria, other Capricorns tend to attract so gl I think you may know some placements. Based on the houses with my knowledge your sun in the 11th is a good place to be it gives a communal and work influenced life. People like your ideas and the friendships are worth while, you bring a hope to people that isn't needed sometimes but is always there, feels like an office friend situation. Possible job friendships and popularity. Capricorn moon in 8th tells me you have cardinal secrets, both zodiac and sins. It's not on my knowledge just a feeling, but it isn't wrong you've been redeemed in almost every culture and religion, I see you may not have strong religion in the basic stuff but you do care for culture. You spend your time admiring the loves of other nations, countries, religions, lifestyle, and more design and architecture came up 3d modeling too I feel like the little baby 3d model kit is something you need to try with a family member, lover, or friend, it's gonna be a bit messy but you'll like it some bit. I don't get know what detriment is sorry but I feel I got somewhat through that it made me think of mental health, hardships, and overall security somehow idk. Ask for more if you want I feel I forgot stuff and this has been so long sorry.

COMING BACK TO REALIZE I MISSED ENERGY COLORS! Taurus ascendant is a warm orange, dry sun rays and heated lamps are seen, the colors loved by those in hot weather used to it. The Pisces sun is cool with blues, grey's, whites, and a tiny smudge of yellow in soft swirls. Particles surround it. Capricorn moon is overly intimidating me right now. It glares so much god. It's color is dark blues mixed with purples and sea refuge vibes. Deep sea diving why don't they. The colors could create pallets only seen by me. They are honestly really beautiful.

HONESTLY WHAT AM I DOING ITS 4 AM NOW. okay description wise. I see short it average person. Possibly tall but idk I doubt myself during these but they seem to be right when I do???? Hesitation is a problem with me. I'd say 5'2-5'6 possible 5'7 or even 6'0 your energy says I'm huge don't ignore me so what's happening. Age could be somewhere to late teens through late or mid twenties (using basic knowledge it's not likely you aren't so open as a young teenager but your aura says you're young as ever. Your skin I want to say is dark tanned yet still seen as white but the Indian part makes me doubt. My mother is what looks white you'd never guess so I thought possible brown to black hair maybe even possibly a light brown? (Vague I'm so sorry) I see a beauty mark on your arm, inner thighs somewhere. Your lover now or in the future has a possible tendency to kiss you all over at times? Random. Your clothing style is bold yet meek. You wear things not expected in the season but still fits within the cultures of seasonal beauty. Rock hair would suit you ngl in my mind it's the smallest maybe. You have many boots and few heels possibly, possibly to add height though given since duh that what they're kind for. I see a red car somewhere idk ignore that. Possible relations to the goddess Hera in some way, she gifts you with few of her talents, some being a pathway of unseen gold. Do more crazy poses don't care if it's weird do it. Memories do it for the memories. I see many Taurus themes possible soulmate bond placement if you believe in that (I have theories against the basic soulmate thing but I still like it).

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shimmershae · 3 years

Text

Just watched the episode and I’m going to have a lot of thoughts for you, most of them probably bordering on incoherence (LOL) so this is your last chance to nope on out of this post because I’m going to go ahead and put everything else behind a cut to save the eyes that do not want to see any spoilers at all. Unlike mine, that very much wanted to see but in a lot of cases? Could not see shit, but I digress.

Shae’s stream of consciousness coming at you in 3-2-1.

First of all, can I saw how good it is to have my show back again? Like, no. I don’t quite have Season 5 levels of excitement about the new/last season, but it is definitely nice to have all these characters back.

So all these thoughts of mine. Okay. Bear with me because there be a whole lot of them, lol.

My immediate impression as the episode opened was WHOA. Such a cool shot of Daryl with one light wing, one dark wing (representing the two sides to Daryl maybe--the man of honor versus the man he was raised to be, hmm?) looking out over some dark vista of something. Seriously. It’s dark. My room is also dark at the moment and still I was squinting to see. To make out what I’m “looking” at. I really, really hope the rest of this season isn’t this hard to make out.

Is that a tank? Kinda sorta a callback to Rick’s first episode? If so, cool. If not, well. Us fans have always put way more thought into things. For real. Change my mind.

Holy intense eye contact, Batman! Daryl Dixon has literally never looked at anyone--not BethusConLeah--in quite the same smoldering way as he looks at Carol. It’s next level. I don’t know why people be fooling themselves into thinking different.

Let’s see. I can make out--besides Daryl, Maggie, and that face mask dude I already forgot the name of--Kelly, Magna, Jerry (who’s that with him?), and Carol. Sorry. My world, like Daryl’s, inevitably narrows to Carol. She’s loking fierce and fine AF per usual.

Was that Rosita I noticed rewinding to relive Daryl eye-fucking Carol?

I’m guessing this is the army base they talked about in 10C.

That Walker perking up like “I smell food--pancakes and bacon and oohhhh” has me giggling inappropriately right off the bat. WTF.

Look at all my fabulous ladies tiptoeing through that Walker minefield. And Carol spotting that gun that might be useful right away. Listen, if you don’t think her mind ain’t always ten steps ahead of everybody else’s, you’d be wrong.

So. Are these Walkers just so old and feeble not even the call of fresh meat attracts them? Because just tiptoeing through their midst without the knockoff Lady Gaga meatsuits or skin masks has never really worked before that I can remember.

I just want to see most of this season. Is that really too much to ask? Don’t X-Files and Game of Thrones us, Angela. Please and thank you very fucking much.

Okay. Is the one drop of blood thing making anybody else have 28 Days Later vibes? Kinda? Sorta? No? Just me? Okay then. Carry on.

Wait a minute, though. How they be explaining how Daryl keeeps acquiring all these new tats all the time? Hmm? It’s like they just quit giving a shit about continuity in these latter seasons.

I mean. Do Walkers sleep now? LMAO. What is this? I guess they’re constantly evolving?

There’s my baby Lydia. Love my smol bean.

Alright though. I love to see the ladies of TWD kick some ass. It’s very gratifying. Gimps would never. Thank you, Angela.

Clever, resourceful, calm and collected, quick thinking Carol to the rescue! Seriously. Her haters must be withering away inside with absolute envy.

Hey, ya’ll. Remember when Carol was still mastering her sharpshooting skills at the Prison yard and shot at Rick’s feet? Her little “sorry, sorry”? LOL. If Rick could only see her now. Wait. He already knew what so many of his stans refuse to acknowledge--Carol=ultimate survivor and true savior to the group many times over.

Maggie’s got herself a gun, too. Go my badass girls.

Of course, Carol’s got everybody’s back. Of fucking course, Daryl’s got hers even when everybody else seem frozen in some kind of awe or stupification or something. Microcosm of the whole damn show right there.

Carol’s like “here’s your knives, love of my life.”

Eh. Maybe that’s just me.

Nah. She’s totally thinking it, too.

YAS! YAS! Norman Reedus and Melissa McBride with the top billing. How very far my babies have come.

Listen. I miss all the characters we’ve lost. Absolutely. But I love the ones that are still with us, that have been with us for so very long so hard. Whether I love their stories or decisions or not.

Is that THE Alexandria sign? That sign’s been through some shit.

DOG! Daryl kneeling to embrace our Grimes babies has me all up in my feels. And how cute is Dog getting all excited and making sure he’s the first one there to welcome back, Daddy?

Hershel is literally just as puppy dog cute as Glenn ever was. Really some Grade A casting.

What did Maggie call Mr. T? Ducky? Dougie? Sometimes with Maggie? I really cannot tell. Anyway. He’s Mr. T. for me until I find out differently, probably through rewatching with close captioning, lol.

Maggie’s got more people. So. Some new redshirts to sacrifice for plot purposes. I don’t know if I should bother learning their names or not.

I seem to remember Meridian being mentioned in one of the episode synopses.

Sophia’s hair tie around Carol’s neck will never fail to be an emotional throat punch. My heart.

“They come at night and by the time you see them, you’re already dead.” Welp. Guess that means we ain’t seeing shit for at least this first third of the season, lol. Very horror-eque though.

“You’re leaving to fight ghosts.” Aaron, to Maggie. So I see Aaron’s the type to get the hell outta Dodge when the Boogeyman comes calling, hahaha. Least he was. In the old world.

Rosita’s pissed off expression at Gabe’s decision to volunteer for the so-called suicide mission gives me life.

My baby Carol is tired AF of suicide missions. You can tell. Also? Methinks she has something to prove to Daryl here. Or at least feels like she does.

Dog with his little tactical vest. I love it.

I guess I get why they had Carol and Rosita stay behind. They had to more evenly split up the badassery to make things more fair and balanced, lol.

Okay. So Negan’s definitely earned everybody’s disdain. But they’re being woefully short-sighted by not at least hearing the dude out. Isn’t he at least native to the area?

“That is God telling us to turn around.” I’m actually on Negan’s side with this one, but Gabe answering him with “I’m pretty sure he would have run that past me first” has me howling with laughter. Father Gabe has gone straight up savage in these last couple of seasons. Rosita’s influence, perhaps?

I see what Angela is doing. Trying to make Negan the voice of reason. In this particular case? It’s kind of working. I’m still ultimately on Maggie’s side with this though BECAUSE GLENN.

Imagine showing up to work and unironically dressing like a storm trooper every day. Excuse me while I LOL.

Even in the ZA, there’s bullshit paperwork.

“Pumpkin colored spacesuit.” Good one, Ezekiel.

LOL forever. I love Princess.

“Michonne. Our Michonne shut people out of Alexandria for years.” Timely reminder that choices aren’t always perfect. Neither are people.

WTF is reprocessing? Sounds ominous. LMAO at Eugene’s “Okay. We gotta go.”

What in the actual hell with all those bagged, squirming undead? Creepy AF in that subway tunnel.

Should I just go ahead and call that the Easter bunny? We’ve had some version of it pop up since Season 1.

Is it stubborn pride with Maggie or what? Why go through with something when all signs point toward the wisdom of stopping? You can argue that she’s acting similarly to Carol last season, but there’s a huge difference here folks. Carol did her damndest to Lone Wolf that shit and minimize the danger to those she loved. Maggie’s straight up enlisting those she “cares about” to carry out her mission of revenge or vengeance, what have you. Let’s see if she gets near the amount of hate for it. Personally, I don’t blame her for her feelings one bit. They are valid. But her knowingly drawing the others into the game? That’s my sticking point. That’s how she and Carol differ, even if some people refuse to see or accept it. Anyway. Hopping right on off my soapbox.

“Why don’t you get up on your little tippy toes and try?” Omigosh, I’d dying. When I tell you I about passed out with laughter, I do not exaggerate. I should hate Negan forever and I do. Really. But I adore JDM and he frequently makes me LOL. He’s made Negan entertaining if not completely redeemable since Angela took over and more layered so I say kudos.

He has a point about Maggie playing dictator. Damn you, show, for slanting the writing just that smidgen that makes Negan make sense over his victim. I guess, though, it’s better this way. Gives both characters more shades of gray.

“He’s a dick but he makes sense.” I feel like this is Angela calling us all out when we dare to harbor any lasting resentment toward Negan for what he did to Glenn.

Speaking of--Negan. You deserved Daryl’s punch to the mouth. You just went a bridge too damn far.

“Keep pushing me, Negan. Please.” Warning shots fired, Asshole. You better watch yourself around the Widow Rhee.

Have I mentioned how much I love Princess? Her shipping the Commonwealth guards is killing me, lol. I can’t wait ‘til she meets Carol and Daryl. She’s going to have their number in two seconds flat.

I like Ezekiel and Princess as a duo. I’m not saying romantically necessarily. I just like them in scenes together because they’re fun. There’s sort of a protective indulgence Ezekiel seems to telegraph whenever they’re in scenes together. Like he’s like don’t hurt this one. I don’t know. For all these words I’ve written, I can’t quite find the ones to adequately describe what I mean.

The wall of the lost gives me such Battlestar Galactica feels. What sad thoughts it inspires.

Eugene in that Commonwealth gear. Omigosh, lol. So did they just sneak up and take Princess’s little Commonwealth ship’s gear when they were sneaking off on their own to have a quickie?

Princess finding that note for Yumiko on the wall actually gave me chills. Yeah. I’m easy. Just the suggestion of someone getting reunited with lost family gets me all up in my feels. Yumiko saying “I have to stay”? I felt that.

Oh no. Dog ran off! Somebody protect my favorite fictional puppy. Of course, Daryl goes after him. He’s always been the sweet one. Merle said it.

Eh. Negan taking Maggie’s hand at the end there would have smacked too much of Negan Sue and Maggie’s biggest plot of the season would have been prematurely dealt with so I get why they did what they did. But c’mon. It’s not really that big of a cliffhanger, is it?

Okay, so Angela calls those sleeping beauty Walkers “Lurkers” and I get it. Apparently they’re a bigger deal in the comics, but I really don’t remember seeing them all that much on the actual show. Somebody jog my memory.

Of fucking course, you can actually see what’s happening in the inside the episode clips. I wish we could choose to view the episode with that lighting because some of us be blind. And this time I mean in the more literal sense. Not the figurative one.

Anyway. I’m going to stop trying to write a novel for ya’ll and move on to better things. Like maybe a nap. Maybe some early dinner. I don’t know. I’m tired AF and need a little recharge.

Before I go, though? Overall impression of the episode? I liked it. There were parts that I loved (all the ladies being badass, every second of Carol, Daryl reuniting with the Grimes babies and Dog, all things Princess, some of Negan’s one-liners about had me busting a gut, Rosita serving looks, Kelly and Lydia getting to be badass too) and parts I didn’t love (not being able to see a damn thing, Angela trying to tip the scales in Negan’s favor, not enough Carol or Aaron or Rosita, no reunion between Aunt Carol and the Grimes babies even though that picture floating around suggests it was at least shot, not being able to see a damn thing, all the Alexandria people playing follow the leader for Maggie when she’s been gone 6 years and Daryl’s right there--hell, even Father G deserves the honor over her because it’s obvious they’re not exactly on the same wavelength anymore).

I don’t know about anybody else, but I’m just glad to have our show back.

Later, lovelies.

#The Walking Dead #Season 11 #spoilers #TWD spoilers #things that make me smile and cry #and giggle and giggle

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amplesalty · 3 years

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Halloween 2021 - Day 5 - The Invisible Ray (1936)

Doesn’t that just sound like a bad magician? “Ladies and gentlemen, introducing...The Invisible Ray!”

Ah, this takes me back. Back in year 0 of this horror marathon business, before this blog was a thing, it was kinda heavily skewed towards the ‘classic’ period; Dracula, Frankenstein, The Mummy..all that Universal 1930’s type stuff. Amongst that first run were a pair of films starring both KARLOFF and Bela Lugosi; The Black Cat and The Raven. I remember them both being quite good, both having this sort of rivalry between their two characters. The Black Cat moreso with a young couple caught in the middle of a heated feud between KARLOFF and Lugosi’s characters. Whereas The Raven has KARLOFF as more of a de-facto good guy as he plays a reluctant henchman to Lugosi’s character. Not that that level of power translated off screen, with Lugosi’s star beginning to fade but I remember reading something about KARLOFF insisting on some parity in pay between the two in one of their movies when the studio tried to lowball Lugosi so good on you, KARLOFF.

Neither have much to do with the Edgar Allan Poe stories they take their names from, outside of Lugosi’s character in The Raven having an obsession with Poe and adapting various means of torture from Poe stories. There have been plenty of Poe adaptations throughout the years but the other big uptick in them was in the 1960’s with a series of films directed by Roger Corman, often starring Vincent Price but with other big names sprinkled in like KARLOFF, Peter Lorre and Lon Chaney Jr. Plus a relatively early Jack Nicholson appearance in The Raven, which was shot at the same time as The Terror. That bloody bird!

So, yeah, it’s good to see one of these KARLOFF/Lugosi films again. Apparently there are eight films that featured both of them so I’ll be halfway there now on them. This also has Carl Laemmle Jr’s name attached, albeit in a minor way as he’s listed as ‘presenting’ the movie. I’m not sure if that ever means anything. It’s like when Tarantino ‘presents’ something, did he have any actual input on the film or was he just shining a light on something he personally liked because he has so much power and influence?

The movie’s foreword is an early indicator of the more science-fiction leaning nature of the movie which catches you off guard a little with the people involved and the timeframe we’re working in. Feels like the 50’s was more when the whole sci-fi thing took off. Also, since when was science a verb?

Certainly has the feel of that classic ‘old, dark house’ horror thing early on as we start with the Rukh household awaiting the arrival of some of Dr Janos Rukh’s (KARLOFF) peers who are to bear witness to his new discovery.

KARLOFF has clearly been eating his crusts to get curls like that, normally he’s a slicked back kind of guy. And it’s kinda weird seeing both of them with facial hair. Oddly though this is one of the rare times that Lugosi plays a good guy, this is a clear violation of the parallel universe protocol:

Normal universe – clean shaven – good guy Parallel universe – goatee – evil

This early version of Dr. Doom is a bit naff. Are you making a great scientific discovery here or doing a spot of welding?

Apparently Dr Rukh’s invention is a telescope that is able to see into the deepest reaches of space, but can also pick up on vibrations left by the events that have taken place and he can then project that as a moving image that shows an asteroid crashing to Earth millions of years ago that can help him pinpoint the crash site and allow him to discover new elements inside the asteroid...wait, what?! Is this like that time on CSI when they solved a murder by getting sound out of something someone made in pottery class because the grooves could be played like a vinyl?

We then pivot sharply into the great plains of Africa where our team have set off in search of what will become known as ‘Radium X’. Oh yes, I think that’s on the periodic table next to Hardtoobtainium. And I’m specifically trying to avoid animal cruelty by not watching Cannibal Holocaust, don’t come around here with your dead leopards and talk of how many rhinos you’ve shot. I must say I’m a little wary of this sudden introduction of all these natives carrying spears and wearing bone necklaces, I just don’t feel like I can trust a movie made in the 1930’s to be sensitive on it’s portrayal of other cultures.

Thought it does present us with the best actor in this picture, look at those bug eyes! He’s like Africa’s answer to Marty Feldman.

And that’s just his reaction to a piece of scanning equipment going off, him and his mates are definitely going to be worried when this white devil makes a demonstration of his new found Radium X and it’s ability to melt pure stone. Looks like a portajohn backing up...

He then promptly turns his cosmic ray gun on all the locals when they tell him they want to go home. Sure, you can leave, you’re not going to get very far though. Dude, there’s like 12 of you and he’s given some of you rifles. Just jump him when he’s asleep.

Dr. Rukh finds that evening that he’s suddenly turned an interesting shade of neon yellow and can be seen by anyone in a three mile radius so either this Radium X is highly poisonous or Rukh has been running in opposition to Vladimir Putin. This poisoning leaves him so irradiated that merely touching another living thing is enough to kill it. Dr. Benet (Lugosi) is able to make a serum for him but can never truly cure him, he must regularly take this serum or otherwise he will revert to this killing machine type state.

But, in his eagerness to not spread this poison to his wife, and his general upholding of the man code to never air ones medical problems, he generally acts a bit surly and tells her to piss off which see views as him not loving her anymore so he promptly shacks up with the young explorer type who came with them to Africa. Worse yet, Benet and crew have taken a sample of Radium X to show at a scientific conference in Paris. Between losing his missus and thinking that other people are taking all the credit for his work, Rukh is just slightly annoyed.

It’s not all bad though, he is able to use this new element to cure his mother’s blindness. I like how his first reaction upon learning that Radium X has irrecoverably changed his life, leaving him one missed injection away from imminent death, is to shoot it directly into his mother’s face.

“Patients won’t like being shot in the face.” “They’ll like what I tell them to like.”

Whilst sulking outside of the church that his ex is getting re-married in, he spots a series of statues of saintly figures and imagines them representing each of the 6 people on the African expedition, vowing to destroy each of them until only he is left. Marvelous invention this Radium X, it can melt statues and cure blindness. Do you have to put special filters on that ray gun of yours depending on the situation? That’s a malpractice suit waiting to happen if you mix those up.

Dr. Benet is a little suspicious when one of their party dies suddenly for no explainable reason so takes a few ultraviolet photos of the victims eyes in order to study. And wouldn’t you know what he finds?

Bullshit! Nevermind the ultraviolet camera, this is more like the dues ex machine camera. I know this is science fiction and all but what is this, 1936 or 2036? Or maybe they’re just able to make the most detailed contact lenses known to man.

Eventually, when Rukh finds himself unable bring himself to kill his former love, he is confronted by his mother who smashes the serum and condemns him to death as, going unchecked, the Radium X within him will destroy his body. Sensing the end coming, Dr. Rukh dives out of the nearest window and promptly erupts bursts into flames, now left as little but a pile of ash on a damp Paris street. It’s a shame really, dozens of people spontaneously combust every year, it’s just not widely reported.”

This one was okay, definitely a different vibe compared to other Universal stuff at the time with all the science fiction and Africa based stuff but it does still travel down that ‘descent into madness’ thing that they often fall back on and it’s always fun to see KARLOFF and Lugosi, especially when they’re together. But, if we’re strictly talking about the KARLOFF/Lugosi pairing, I’m definitely leaning towards one of their other outings like Black Cat, Raven or Son of Frankenstein. There’s just something not right about Lugosi playing some normal, if he’s not being unhinged then you’re not really getting what you came here for.

#Halloween 2021 #The invisible Ray #KARLOFF #Bela Lugosi

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filypadreams · 3 years

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Fleeting Touches

( Asmodeus x GN!MC)

Synopsis: Do you know what fleeting means? It means you should apreciate every moment while you can. Even if you get lost in illusions for it.

TW: Slight angst

_______________________________

The streets were full this time of the year, even with the cold weather. It was a race for most humans to get that last minute gift for that special someone.

Their children, parents, grandparents or significant others. For some reason it's tradition to get that one person a last minute present.

And that's always a disaster...

" Calvin Klein One... with bergamot, cardamom, pineapple and jasmin. Tropical? Or maybe Dolce & Gabanna Velvet Exotic Leather. Traditional and italian... also at good prices, I need to ask if they are antiallergenic! "

I spend 15 minutes on the line but get both perfumes and walk outside onto the sunny street. It's not as busy as the mall and I really should get home before it gets to close to one pm.

Today, faces are a blur to me.

" Thanks for the tip Asmo, I was sick of the strong scents of women perfumes and the always down to earth male ones~"

I cheerfully speak to myself while touching the 'tattoo' above my left breast.

It's a one-way communication system. I'm not even sure Asmodeus hears what I tell him but I sure do hear his thoughts.

" Ohhh, bootie alert at 12! No, wait! Delicious curves at 4- oohh...that's a mix at 9 o'clock~!"

I see a man, woman, I think the last one is in mid transitioning but I'm not sure.

" He'll be a beautiful man, I'm 95% sure!"

" Maybe it's a 'they'... not that you can hear me."

Though I agree, they look...handsome. With a nice physique, curly shoulder lenght hair, smooth skin as if rivalling Asmos' ... and who can resist a dark biker leather jacket?!

No, stop. Don't let the mark influence you from your mission MC!

Setting the christmas gifts.

I start running in the direction of the bus station when I collide with a tall lady, her black shades falling to the ground from her beautiful light pink sweater.

My head hurts. It felt like hitting a brick wall...or Beel.

Are my only thoughts as I scramble to pick her glasses and my shopping bag. Good thing it was well packed.

"Oh my~ I'm so sorry, I didn't notice such a beautiful face in this crowd. I was retoutching my eyeliner, huhu! Let me help~"

The lady crouches down next to me. I notice from the corner of my eyes that she is also wearing a black turtle neck... and has peach coloured hair...

" Asmo?!"

Darkness. A cold hand covers my eyes while the other takes the shades from mine and exchanges them with my bags...it seems. He whispers is my ear.

" Now, now. Don't ruin the surprise! I'm just a beautiful 'lady'. Hahaha."

And with that he dissapears. Everything seems to dissapear, as soon it gets dark and I'm sitted in my couch, replaying today's event.

It felt so real... I called him a lady.

Well... I don't think Asmodeus minds.

I walk around the tree, putting down colorfully wrapped gifts. That I went purposely to markets and malls to have wrapped!

Diavolo better play Santa and give me some grimm if I ever get an invite to Devildom, I blew most of my allowances with these!

On the blue corner I have vynil disks and office supplies. Getting stuff for Lucifer is hard.

The yellow corner... is a mess of acessories like shades and wristwatches and some jackets. Mammon needs a new one.

The orange corner was the cheapest but most difficult to prepare. I wrapped most of my otaku related rarities, in Devildom at least, and put them in a pile. Levi better apreciate my figurines!

The green pile was also simple. It's actually small with my old literature books. All from great authors and all trying to escape religious judgement so Satan might find that amusing.

I don't have a red corner, just baked goods on the table and two glasses of milk in case Santa visits.

I put purple pillows, warm robes, matresses and scarves around the tree. Belphie won't lose comfort soon.

And now finishing the pink corner.

There's the perfumes, some cosmetics I really don't get but my 'chest instinct' said to go ahead and...

" I hope he likes this fluffy bunny backpack!"

I kinda wanted the bunny for myself... but I can't.

The day went on so fast... why am I even doing this? Might as well call Solomon and offer him these so he can perform his rituals. I'll just wake up tomorrow to a full room of wasted money and a mountain of calories. An empty heart.

I caress the bunny when i hear rustling on my door. Something is playing with my wreath? I pick a knife from the dinning table.

" W-who's there?! Show yourself fiend!"

" Aww, that hurts to hear MC-chan..."

From the darkness into the light walks the same person I crashed into this morning.

" You better drop that knife before someone gets hurt..."

" How...Asmo, how are you here?! Why?!!"

Tears come to my eyes. It's been a while. A long while since I've seen any of them. Since I've had slumber parties with Asmodeus, self care sessions...

He shakes his head cleaning the few teardrops away with the back of his index finger and walks to the tree, messing with the gifts.

" Tears don't suit you well. Oh, you even got something for Barbatos... I'm slightly jealous, I thought you only thought about me~"

He starts opening his gifts.

" Wait! It's not even Christmas Eve. We need to wait until midnight at least..."

As I try to explain, his taller stature hovers over me, playing with my hair and putting a mistletoe, secure in it's knots. Wait... how is he so tall? The height difference is too abnormal.

" I'm afraid the concept of time doesn't apply in dreams, MC."

" H-huh?! Wha... the day... went on really fast. So you..."

I look down slightly dissapointed. The floor starts cracking and falling. Darkness and constelations starting to form under my feet.

" Afraid not. Christmas is not really part of our traditions, haha. Even if we had a great celebration that one time Diavolo proposed we did it with the exchange students.

I like the angel."

He points to the tree top.

" Oh, that... I was thinking of Beel and Belphie when I made the decision. It's my oldest decoration. I was thinking on putting a star this year but... I got a literal gut feeling to keep the angel."

I smirk at Asmodeus as he puts an arm around my shoulders, leaning me a little closer to him. We both apreciate the flashing lights from the tree. Even if it was fake. The rest of the room crumbles away and Asmo let's go of me to pick his gifts and stuffing them inside his new backpack.

" I know he was thinking of the only person that shines as bright as us two together.

Hmm, but you haven't been taking good care of yourself, MC-chan! Remember to follow the morning routine I gave you so your skin is almost as perfect as mine!"

" I haven't been feeling like...doing much I guess. I had a lot of work this year."

" Humans are always full of work. I mean me too.

Since RAD is closed for the 'holidays', we are back to our other jobs. Things get dirty real fast, so many pests! Maybe we can actually come visit during New Year's."

After apreciating the representation if Lilith, he turns to berate me, before picking a bottle of perfurm and examining it, followed by spraying some on while making a spin as he explains his bodyguard/demon threat exterminator job.

He must have loved it because he transforms, with a smile on his face and his horns move like pincers.

" I always found your demon form the funniest."

" ...Dear, I'm fabulous."

" Hahahahaha! Ok, but if this isn't a Diavolo, Barbatos or Lucifer' scheme... is it Belphegor's? You mentioned dreams, and it explains the constelations."

I look around, darkness being drilled by the light of many tiny stars.

" I think I see taurus... and of course he had ro include pisces. Mammon is supposed to be the greedy one, this is OUR moment!"

He huffes and crosses his arms. I chuckle and pat his back.

" So, I'm asleep at the same time as Belphie."

" It's night time in both worlds. You could say I'm an intruder. I was taking my immersive nightly bath as I prepared to get into your dreams~ I hope I didn't actually fall asleep, my poor skin!"

" How did you convince him?"

I wonder as he touches his arm and the parts of revealed skin as if to feel if something was wrong with his real body.

" Oh, well...he actually wanted to see you to! I also promised to take more cute pictures of Lucifer for him. But I don't think he admires his beauty the same way I do-"

The world trembles. Belphie must be waking up. And angry...

" Oh, dear! I must have upset him. This illusion will end soon and you'll wake up in your bed as if nothing happened. I hope you don't forget me."

Asmo walks closer and caresses my face. Kissing my forehead.

It's warm. Fleeting but I can feel his gestures. Even in a dream.

I slap his hand when I feel it sliding down my back a little too far.

" Ouch! My nail...ok, ok. I'm sorry! Won't happen again~"

He apologises when making contact with my burning stare and proceeds to act innocently after.

" It better not. I... think it will be difficult to forget you. Specially now. Make sure the others know-! Ahh!!!"

Another quake and I "conveniently" fall in his arms. I'm able to see his pixie sized wings batting in excitement.

" This is a cliché."

I mumble as Asmo wraps his arms around me.

" I need to go. I'm sure we'll see each other soon. You know I'll always be here. Literally. And I do hear you, you know?"

He pokes his mark, above my heart and pouts.

" ...I know... see you soon Asmo."

I pick his hand and kiss it.

Then I wake up. It's still the middle of the night. My room is cold.

There on my window sill are two roses. One peach and one dark pink.

The End

______________________________

Special dedicatory to: @shortnessangel

and @asmoluvsyou .

Bunny Backpack comes from: https://kawaiibabe.com/products/creepy-bun-backpack

(Curiosities: The perfumes are gender neutral, I can still link you the page where I found them.

The colour of the roses have a specific meaning. I can post the pic I got it from if you want.)

#obey me #obey me fic #asmodeus x gn!mc #asmodeus obey me #gn!mc #gn reader #slight angst #shikibutterfly

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crunchykiwibby · 3 years

Text

Core Four

Hi! After days of my antics i had decided to show my drawings for my redrawn Descendants next to outfit clarification/ idea for my fanfiction (+ analysis because I love fashion analysis! I watched one episode of the topic and I'm hooked now-) also sorry about the poor camera quality I'll digitalize it soon 😭

So here's them all together:

So what they have in common is the use of patterns and somewhat baggy(ish?) clothing whether it's from the top, ( Carlos, Evie) or by the pants ( Jay, Mal). The next use is pictures or patterns which is pretty predominant in Mal's side of town ( The inner city/ a good most of the Isle except anywhere near the coast. Which is known to be Uma's side of town.) 9 times out of 10 you would see a lot of painted clothes with patterns or designs, pieces of leather or cloth in clothing that can form a pattern or pictures. It is very popular on the Isle to wear gloves, bandages, and something you can at least move in because sometimes certain areas get congested and you might have to jump from a building time to time, run away from a troll, or fight. Also it's good to wear clothes that hide stuff you stole or hide weapons compared to Uma's side of town where you kinda just casually have a dagger or sword out. The inner city fashion is a mix of military, grunge, and goth depending on where you are. And it also reflects in the fanfiction in their Auradon fashion which I'll describe later. Their outfits together all clash but it's unified in one shape or pattern which also presents their friendship.

MAL

So Mal doesn't have fear as she usually doesn't worry about being randomly shanked out of nowhere. Seen here I kept her purple/ green aesthetic but I used a very minium of pink which was her top which was magenta. Her outfit is quite girly tomboyish. Her top is a repurposed binder that she cloth dyed and painted green flames on. I did this changes because she's more of the rambunctious one in the group next to Jay so her clothes are fitted in the purposes of movement next to the fact of her always stealing and running away which I felt that the leather jacket limited her upper body in her og design, I do love the leather don't get me wrong! But it's more practical in fall/winter (assuming that it's pretty tight) than spring and summer which is when my fanfiction takes place. However the use of leather is shown in her pants as the her pockets is dyed leather. Her hair is more blunt like cut and a deeper purple more toward her hair in D3 (Which was the color I like the most) but it's not a long asymmetrical bob it's just a blunt cut bob and she keeps it that way for a while. She aims for that casual militant fashion a lot, as some of her outfits won't look like what is the one above since she's not jumping place to place in Auradon would lean towards edgy and militant for a while until Coronation and later in the series where it leans more like EGIRL/Prep as her hair gets longer and is just plain black and cut again so she would wear a baggy clothes with combat boots in darker shades of purple and green while some of her shoes consist of designs of her own graffiti in the earlier parts and eases slowly into more to skinny jeans and a shirt that's stuck in with some canvas shoes. You notice how her outfits would present a very dominant leader energy because her outfits would stand out a lot when she stands with the group. Reflecting her always in control and assertive role as leader in the group. Whether in maybe the graphics on her shirt or the pattern until later where her and the core four all equally stand out in their own ways but not clash with one another and she's not trying to outshine any of them. So her style choices in the beginning reflects how she sees herself more of a pawn to her mother and more of someone was placed in charge due to her mother's orders which makes her prone to have a harder time shifting from that mindset in the beginning.

EVIE

Her outfit is very male gaze oriented, intentionally as presented on how she was raised so how she dresses is out of place for normal people on the Isle that live more in the inner city as she dresses more for fashionable and what the Isle consider Auradon like. However don't get it twisted because her outfit is quite practical than one thinks. Her outfit is a dress with attached shorts that is hard to see due to her dress because she dresses in a way for the male gaze. Her sleeves are utilized in a way that she can keep weapons. Any weapon. Same applies to her dress skirt the cut is makes her capable of sneaking in a knife or something same rules don't apply to her purse as it just keeps makeup and a mirror in hand for quick access. Her dress is pretty tight at the waist as her mother always say "tinier the waist the better" and the closest thing of love she got from her mom is that she complimented her waist so her outfits then on compliment her waistline. Her colors are still blue and red as her mother thinks that what works because Snow White but later on she will have mementos of her mother's colors of red, black, purple, greens, and gold albeit jewelry or clothing pieces. Her shoes aren't made for any parkour. Most of her shoes are heels. Mother says a girl in heels fluctuate the legs. Her hair is in the braid as it makes her face pop out more, it represents also the strict beauty guidelines she follows due to her mother's influence so her hair will always be up and tight until later on she starts wearing it loser to present how confident she is in her skin. Her hair leans towards a black blue color it's has a blue shine if you see it in the sun which has a slight color reference to her D1 hair mixed with D3. As a result her Auradon fashion can be formed with ease as it's a easier transition since she dresses like that before going to Auradon so her outfits would be very reflective of what's popular in Auradon without the prep, so she would wear dresses but they would be in darker colors and have a few spikes. Of if she was wearing a skirt it would be a synthetic leather. Her fashion is edgy prep until later in the series where it's still edgy but has a color tune up a bit. Her outfits will very much reflecting of fitting in Auradon as much as possible and try to appeal to the male gaze in Auradon as she would try to look more modest and muted compared to everyone in the group until later on she's comfortable of being herself as she dresses more for herself and wears what's fashionable and what makes her comfortable than what her mother thinks. Her outfit choices reflects more of her needing to be approved by others which makes her have a wavering confidence in what she wears forming into her wearing clothes she would never be caught dead wearing but has to so she gets her mother's and other's approval until she realizes that she lives for her not anyone else.

JAY

This dude knows he's a little shit. So he dresses like one. His is simple and it reflects that he needs to have places to store a box cutter and a cheap necklace. He's all about practicality. He hates and I mean HATES anything that prevents him from moving in absolute precision. There is no leather on him besides his pants which are similar to Mal's with the leather accents. Now his hair is long and just up until later he wears is down often and is just styled. So his Auradon outfits will reflect Mal in some form, it's different because it leans towards athlesiure, jock, and skater in many different ways until later he leans towards athlesiure and jock with a sprinkle of skeeter fashion with brighter colors and more simplicity so not a lot of patterns or graphics. His earlier outfits will always be outshined by Mal. No matter how similar it can be it will always be outshined by Mal. His outfit choices shows how he just goes along with Mal because that's who he knew the longest next to the fact that he doesn't crave the same need for power and leadership as Mal does he just in it for the loot and his mindset isn't about teamwork it's just what works for enough for him to get his share until he notices that he gets and works enough to get his share but...he isn't noticed that also made sure everyone get theirs, just somewhat ran over just because everyone assumes he doesn't care when he does or take it for themselves so they get brighter and become separate and drastically different from Mal making him shine.

CARLOS

His outfits are practical yet fashionable like Evie's but simple. He wears anything that makes him blend in blend in. He blends in so hard that Evie stands out more than him. His clothes are very two sided like his mom's hair but he only literally have one outfit since being on the Isle and what was in his bag of stuff when he went to Auradon was like a few inventions and games and some pictures and his oversized jacket and finally getting new clothes given by Evie and some new friends he makes as seen worn here because he doesn't really go out. His hair remains the same and just gradually gets longer and he can place it in a ponytail. Which if posted on his friend's stories just looks like a maltese ponytail. His Auradon outfits are simple and blends in more better in Auradon than Evie's. He mostly wear button up shirts with some pants or sweater. He just is scared and a lot of his clothes represent security in the beginning so some of clothes would be bagger than others until later he becomes more secure and wears clothes that reflects his newfound happiness and security which is more fashionable and what's popular with Auradonian boys while being himself. As with such with the two-sided clothing from before it also presents what his personality is like really in real life, and his oversized jacket is washed its a pure white jacket. He's witty and comical and iconic while also being anxious and terrified. So his outfit choices reflects him coming out of his shell show what more of him meets the eye making him be the iconic king he is.

I hope that this analysis makes sense 😭 please let me know if it doesn't! Also i would like to hear some suggestions because ironically fashion is also not my strong suit and I'm worried that I made them too ooc but know disney i probably wasn't far off smh-

#disney descendants #descendants #my art #disney #mal descendants #jay descendants #evie descendants #carlos descendants #mal bertha #evie grimhilde #carlos de vil #this was choicee #//sob

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dallonm-archive · 3 years

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Hi! I love ur WIP oh revelations revelations, and I was wondering if you could give ur characters physical descriptions?

hi thank you so much!!! not gonna lie i ~suck~ at character descriptions (really I’m just not confident in them) and the ones I do aren’t overtly detailed and feed a lot more into showing their personality combines with appearance. Plus as a reader I will create my own image in my head if I don’t get something from the author lmao. So this will just be some rambles with some picrews and IRL photos (I don’t do official faceclaims and will get into that, but I do use some to help visualise what’s in my head), and also fashion because I love fashion and I love 80s fashion and I have to stop myself from writing 389424 outfit descriptions <3 feat. some barely edited prose!!

only doing the “main five” (are they truly the only main characters? I have no self control <3) because I lose track of which characters I’ve talked about so this is far from all the cast! And picrew/photo limitations mean these aren’t how exactly they look but it gives you an idea! Also I wrote this out and then lost it t w i c e :) Here are the two picrews I used: x x

Beau

My KING. It’s kinda funny to me because his description comes from the POV of a man who’s going to fall in love with him so whilst it’s not like “oh my god he’s so hot” I feel like you can DEFINITELY tell there’s something there. Beau and Felix aren’t exactly a slow burn couple lmao

Beau mirrors his mother. Same complexion, same smile, the only difference is his eyes are lighter and his curls are wilder, one absentmindedly coiled around his index. He wears a pistachio coloured button up with palm tree prints, oversized. A necklace with a shell charm, a brown beaded bracelet. He still grins at Felix, charmingly, as he continues to ramble about the music. Beau is effortless. He swims in the San Francisco colours.

This picrew captures him pretty well although I wish they had a facial hair option as he does have a bit of stubble

It’s all about the curls! He has a head full of them and they’re my favourite thing about him. This is a good example of where I don’t have a faceclaim but I do have pictures of a model that help visualise what I see: these pictures of Miles Frank were the first that resembled what I saw in my head, but only these two resemble him lmao. He’s not his faceclaim. Again, it’s all about the curls! (and the leather jacket)

He kinda has an athletic build not not overtly? Like he’s not muscular but he used to do a lot of sport as a teenager and he’s 100% the type of person who wakes with the sunrise to go on runs. Cannot relate but good for him! He’s around 5′10/5′11

Style is definitely important for his self expression but he also values comfort over fashion. It’s all about the oversized printed button ups (I found one in a thrift store that looks EXACTLY like the one in the description and I didn’t buy it I’m so mad!!! I failed both Beau and the queer community in that moment). He will wear All The Colours but he especially likes greens and pinks/reds. Leather jacket is a staple when the weather allows it.

He also loves jewellery, especially bracelets, especially homemade bracelets. 100% makes friendship bracelets.

Dorothy and Felix

I’ll put these two together because they’re not identical but like, they are twins lmao. Life hack: if you hate description for the POV character give them a twin and make them lowkey hate each other so you can ~compare~

Brother and sister. Born minutes apart on a dreary January night that wheezed rain. Bundled in identical bloodstained blankets, porcelain limbs and faces indistinguishable - but as they grow, the mirror their reflections share starts to crack. Dorothy grows taller, then Felix overtakes at 16. Dorothy’s features soften, but she grows a glare that digs deeper than Felix’s ever could. Dorothy aims for the moon; Felix accepts that he’ll never leave. Dorothy maps out a survival plan for the outside world; Felix maps out how he’ll work for the Church. But they still share the cinnamon hair, the freckles peppering their nose and cheeks, the grey-blue irises and heavy eyelids. They grew into different people with the same face made of different stitching, the same blood infected with different sin.

Dorothy is the only one who kinda has a faceclaim but not really? I struggle with faceclaims beyond inspo/resemblance because like I said, I don’t have the most exact image in my head but I am still very picky so I can look at a pic and immediately be like YES or NO lmao. But also, an issue I have is that a lot of faceclaims come from models/actors; I have no issue with pretty characters (I would call mine pretty lmao but it’s never like. a character trait), but there is that element of conventional attractiveness as well as editing/posing/lighting for professionally shot photos. That’s just me personally though, love them for helping visualise ideas! Since Dorothy was really difficult to get an image of, a “faceclaim” really helped. I made her after Felix so her only descriptor was “brown hair like her brother, similar facial features”, until I saw these pictures of Jane Birkin from the 60s. Again, not an official faceclaim (Dorothy isn’t as skinny as her), but that was where I first got an image of her as an individual character and was definitely the foundation. Her hair looks exactly like that!

She doesn’t really wear makeup, it’s not a statement or anything I just don’t think it suits her haha. 100% wears astronomy themed jewellery though

Her favourite colours to wear are red and violet. I’d describe her fashion as quite casual and flowy? She loves blouses, especially ones with floral prints. 100% rocks double denim (we are pro double denim here). I’d say her style is also more 70s inspired than 80s

She’s 5′9 which makes me 😳

I first made Felix because of a picture of Luke Powell, and I have to laugh because he is SUCH a common faceclaim on Pinterest but also suddenly I was just like ??? NO???? I held onto him as a FC for way too long when they don’t really look alike

Fluffy hair! Floppy hair! This isn’t canon in the book yet because I’m not sure how to present it beyond a bunch of hair descriptions, but I can see his hair being much shorter whilst he’s still in the cult and then he slowly grows its out (not much longer, just messier and unkept until its like the picrew) - again I have no idea how to show it in prose but I think in a movie/TV Series that’d be a cool way to show passing of time but also him settling into his identity. If he wasn’t a coward he’d grow it to mullet length

He and Beau are similar heights - 5′10/5′11. I love height differences in couples but I don’t think that suits them? They’re more likely to argue over who’s the taller one because the inch or so difference is so subtle they can’t even tell LMAO

I know this man just has the ugliest fashion taste but like in good way? Like you know when you see a sweater in the store and you’re like that’s so UGLY I need it? 100% owns both of these:

I think he’d wear a lot of yellows/oranges/browns but also blues. Would love a brown corduroy or bomber jacket, or dark/moss green??

Jolie

The way she was LITERALLY meant to be the main antagonist and then I was like wait but she’s hot lol. Jolie is a very interesting character to me - she won’t be in the next update but she’ll be talked about a lot in the one after 👁️ (Not obvious in the excerpt but the idea is Dorothy’s listing the “colours” of Jolie)

High waisted, baggy jeans distressed at the knee; matching denim jacket rolled up to the elbow. Faded blue. Cheap band print shirt. Blondie. Kitchen scissor-cut fringe. Bleached – originally chestnut. Chipped nails. Cherry lacquer. Round glasses with scotch tape around the bridge. Silver. Triangular face, straight nose. Pale. No makeup besides red lips. Whatever the cheapest red shade at the drugstore was in 1984. Combat boots with heels nobody else would travel in, but Jolie would. Leather black. 5’2. She smiles at Dorothy with her teeth. Lipstick stains her incisors.

Jolie’s been the hardest to nail appearance wise and it honestly this picrew is the only thing that visualises what’s in my head.

At 5′3 she’s the shortest out of these five. She’s plus sized, which is another thing I find a lot of picrews don’t show very well unfortunately

She bleaches her hair just before we meet her in the book, and later on we see her cut her hair into a messy mullet style, before that it was shoulder-length. Would never pay for a haircut because hairdressers cannot give her what she wants

A lot of her style is a blend between masculine and feminine. She has a very complicated relationship with her gender identity which she navigates through her expression but she does embrace some elements of femininity, although to her it’s redefined to suit her perception of it. Her style is very similar to Jamie’s from Bly Manor. I think she’d also be influenced by punk and rock fashion.

She’s a gardener and it shows, definitely the type to tuck a little flower behind her ear.

Isaias

No character description for him because I scrapped and am currently rewriting the whole chapter where he’s introduced so :( but I will make sure to include it in the next writing update! I love him, he has such pleasant vibes

There is one picture that is very similar to how I see him, especially because the person in it is wearing a denim jacket and an oversized denim jacket is an Isaias STAPLE. The only problem is the photo is in black and white, also I’d like to see him smile.

I’ve been struggling to nail his hair but the picrew shows it quite well, albeit in a cartoon style. It’s all about the long side part

Besides the denim jacket he wears a lot of turtlenecks when the weather allows it, otherwise he’s a big fan of dress shirts. Loves to wear deep blues and purples. Depending on the weather, he’d also layer up with two jackets over a dress shirt. On the flip side I can see him wearing a pastel coloured blazer as well, like lavender? LOVE that.

He’s a pretty average height, not short and not very tall. Around 5′8?

Pretty much always has some kind of bag/backpack with him because he likes to have his notebook on him at All Times.

I’ll stop myself there because this is getting long! Like I said, I don’t have exact images in my head but I do have well, an image lmao. I do like the idea that people can develop their own image in their head too based on what I’ve described so I hope that was interesting! I’d also love to do some art of these guys so I can show better what I see, but unfortunately my tablet is at my dorm and I’m at home and we are on strict lockdown for the foreseeable future :( someday!

#Anonymous #revelations revelations #omg i have to change the tag on all the posts ive made #thank god for xkit

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