#cause i was looking for bangle designs and i

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

"Emotional" Peter Parker fanfic

Here's another long one shot for y'all! (6132 words) Trying out Peter Parker this time. Reader is a mutant with powers. Hope you like it! *Slight smut... *"Usisi" means sister in Xhosa

Peter couldn’t stop staring.  Shuri had invited him and the rest of what was left of the Avengers to Wakanda for a mental health retreat.  After everything that had happened over the past decade she figured that during a time of relative world peace would be the best opportunity to get everyone together for some healing.  Peter had seen a lot in his 25 years so far, but was not prepared for the seemingly death defying entrance into Wakanda, its advanced technology, the amazing mixture of traditional African style and futuristic design.  He was enamored with the country.  Yet even all of that had not prepared him for the sight of the woman before him.

“Welcome, Avengers, to Wakanda,” Shuri’s voice echoed as they entered the palace.  “I have invited you all here for a retreat to focus on healing, whatever that may mean to you.  Some of you have met her, but for those who have not, this is Y/N,” she announced as she gestured to the woman next to her.

Peter swore he’d never seen such a beautiful woman in his life.  Y/N was dressed in what he assumed were traditional Wakandan robes that matched the color of raw Vibranium.  She was decked in necklaces, bracelets, bangles and large earrings, all of different colors and metals that somehow still complimented her robes.  She wore no shoes, and her hands that were crossed in front of her were covered in what looked like a blackout tattoo from her fingertips to an inch above her wrists.  The black seemed to fade up her wrist, like she’d been sprayed with a matte black paint.  Her long fingernails matched the black color.  As she raised a hand in greeting to the Avengers and then swept a piece of hair out of her eyes, the deep black created a stark contrast to her long, intricately braided white hair that glittered a silver sheen in the light.  Her Y/C eyes were piercing as she looked each newcomer over, analyzing them, as her lips were pulled into a small, reassuring smile.  She was a burst of colors and contradictions and Peter couldn’t help but ogle.  Bucky, who was standing next to him, nudged Peter with his elbow, causing Peter to cough awkwardly.  Bucky snickered.

“Hello, everyone,” Y/N finally spoke.  Peter found her voice to be his new favorite sound.  “I look forward to getting to know each of you.  As for those of you I’ve already met,” her eyes flickered over Bucky and Sam, “welcome home.”

Bucky and Sam took that as an invitation to approach her.  They each had warm smiles as they took turns to give Y/N a long embrace and say their greetings quietly.  Peter noticed how she had different greetings for each of them, small hand or arm touches that she would give them.  A firm squeeze on Sam’s forearms and delicate scratch of Bucky’s beard.  Peter was surprised when Bucky willingly leaned down and pressed his forehead and nose against hers.  He had never seen Bucky get particularly close to anyone other than Sam, and he felt a flare of jealousy in his chest.  He mentally chastised himself.  Peter didn’t know Y/N, he didn’t have any kind of relationship or claim to her, and Bucky was older, handsome, and had some type of history with her.  Peter hung his head in personal shame at himself, looking away from the intimate moment.

“Y/N is an empath, a mind reader, and can manipulate energies,” Shuri informed the group.  “She was born a mutant, with the abilities to read and manipulate others’ thoughts and emotions and the energy around her in many forms.”  Peter’s head snapped back up at that piece of information, his eyes bugging wide.

“She will be able to help you work through your thoughts, emotions, past experiences, mental and emotional blocks, and process trauma.  She helped Sergeant Barnes considerably in his recovery from his experiences from Hydra.  She is also an adopted member of my family, so I hope you will all be able to gain the help and healing you seek, and find a new home and family with us here.”  Shuri spread her arms and gestured to the palace, then pointed to some members of the staff that were standing off to the side.  “You will each have a member of the palace staff assigned to you to help you while you’re here.  If you have any questions or requests please reach out to them.  Your belongings have all been brought to your respective rooms already.  Dinner will be served in one hour, so you can take some time to get settled and rest before then.  And again, welcome home.”

Peter was greeted by a woman named Ayala who had him follow her down an adjoining hallway.  He took a quick glance back at Y/N, who was already looking back at him.  His cheeks grew hot as she flashed him a smile.

***

One hour later and all the Avengers and royal family were eating some of the most delicious food Peter had ever tasted.  He was seated in between Shuri and Carol Danvers.  He and Carol had become good friends over the last few years and had a teasing and sarcastic friendship.  He hadn’t had a chance to really meet Shuri until now, and felt intellectually stimulated talking to her about her inventions, the properties and uses of vibranium, the Wakandan technology and science jargon that he hadn’t been able to talk about in a long time.  He suddenly felt a twinge of pain as he realized the last time he’d felt like this was with Tony Stark and his friends that he lost from the spell Dr. Strange casted years before.  He wound down the conversation with Shuri and focused on his food, which became less appetizing by the second.  He took a large gulp of water from his cup to help with the thickness developing in his throat.  It had been so long since he lost Tony, Ned, MJ, his aunt May, yet he couldn’t seem to move on with his life without them and that support system behind him.

He felt a hand softly rub his upper back.  Peter looked up and behind his chair to find Y/N looking at him, her eyebrows tilted up in the middle in concern.  She jerked her head to the side to signal him to follow her.  Peter simply nodded at her and excused himself from the table.  Once he was standing she took his hand in hers and led him out of the dining hall.  Peter didn’t know what was happening, but he knew his hand was in hers and that they fit perfectly together.  Y/N opened a door that he realized was across the hall from the room he was staying in.  Was this her room?  He was met with a brightly colored room covered in fairy lights in the shapes of stars, tons of exotic plants that doused the space in tropical scents, and almost every surface looked soft, covered in pillows and blankets and cushions.  It looked like a Bohemian dream, and Peter felt calmer instantly.

Y/N led him to a small couch on the right side of the bedroom, motioning for him to sit down.  Peter sat at one end of the couch thinking she would sit on the opposite end, but she knelt on the floor in front of him, poised between his legs.  Peter was shocked and apprehensive, his cheeks flushing again at her close proximity.  She surprised him again by taking his hands in hers, shifting closer and getting comfortable.  She began massaging his hands, the movements of her black fingers mesmerizing.  

“I try not to read others’ thoughts and emotions,” Y/N said quietly so as not to startle him.  Peter’s eyes landed back on her face.  She wasn’t looking at him but focusing on his hands.  When he didn’t reply she continued.  “It may be an ability of mine, but I also believe in privacy.  I will always try to never read or manipulate your thoughts or emotions without your consent, Peter.”

Peter could have died on the spot from the way she said his name.  Her comforting voice and actions were making him emotional.

“That being said,” she said, “I can block out people’s thoughts, but feelings and emotions are a lot…” she paused, searching for the right word.  “Louder,” she decided, “and we humans tend to feel deeply.  So sometimes I can’t ignore ‘loud’ feelings from people around me.  And you,” she glanced at his face, her eyes twinkling, “wear your emotions on your sleeve.”

Peter could feel his eyes burning with unshed tears.  He tensed slightly under her gaze, feeling embarrassed.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed of,” she reassured him, her fingers slipping up to his wrists, rubbing slowly up his arms, relieving stress along the tensed muscles.  “Feeling deeply, passionately, can be a strength.  Many people I’ve worked with over the years, all you superheroes, feel the need to be strong.”  Y/N moved her hands to his shoulders, massaging the tough knots littered there.  Peter’s eyes almost rolled to the back of his head.  When was the last time he’d been touched like this?

“Superheroes tend to want to numb themselves,” she continued.  “Numbness means peace, means you won’t hurt others or means you can’t get hurt anymore.  But it’s also a pretty miserable way to live,” she paused to watch his face again, making sure he was still with her.  “Tony was like that.”

Peter’s head jerked up, his eyes widening at the mention of the name.  His hands flew up to grip her wrists gently, stopping her movements and leaned himself closer to her.  He searched her eyes for any sign of a lie.

“You knew Tony?” his voice came out as a whisper.

“Oh yeah,” Y/N nodded, a wide smile spreading across her face.  Her hands twisted out of his grip so that she could hold his hands.  “Steve called me after the Snap,” she explained.  “He lost Bucky, again, and he came to me for help.  He could tell that Tony needed help processing what happened.  We all did.”  Her voice grew quiet.  “Tony internalized a lot, didn’t want his emotional baggage to be a burden to others, joked about his trauma, and at first shrunk into himself.  He kept himself busy so as not to think about it.  But Pepper was pregnant,” she smiled, “and he knew he had to be better for her, for the baby…for Morgan.”

Peter felt like he was grasping Y/N’s hands too hard as he grounded himself.  He needed to hear this.

“I worked with him weekly for the first 2 years of the Blip, then monthly, then I’d just come by when he called.  He made a lot of progress.  He was just like you.  Felt deeply, emotions on his sleeve, passionate to a fault,” she paused and focused on his hands, her thumbs began softly rubbing his knuckles.  

“You were the reason, you know?” she said quietly.  Peter focused on her eyes.  She was blinking back tears.  “Tony figured out time travel, worked with the Avengers again, risked everything he had worked so hard for, just for the chance to bring everyone back…to bring you back,” her voice wavered.  Y/N gazed up at him, her tears finally falling.

Peter felt like the air had been knocked out of him.  He had known that Tony cared for him, might have loved him in a son-he-never-had-way, but he assumed that reversing the Snap had been because it was the right thing to do, normal Ironman saving the world, or universe, type of thing.  He couldn’t figure out whether to feel extremely privileged or guilty.  It was his fault, Tony died because of him…oh God, oh God…

Y/N could see him spiraling and let go of his hands to cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at her.

“Don’t feel like that,” she said firmly, her eyes burning into his.  “Don’t you dare, Peter.  Tony did what he did for you, for me, for all of us.  He did it because it was the right thing.  He did it because he knew he could never rest until he at least tried to bring everyone back.  Tony did what he had to do because he loved you!” she gently shook his face in her hands as if to rattle his brain into understanding.

Peter silently cried, the tears spilling and he sniffed quickly.  Y/N sighed, then moved her right hand from his cheek down to his chest.  He didn’t dare move, unsure of what he was doing.  She placed her hand on his chest over his heart.  “I’ll show you,” she said resolutely.

Peter’s brow furrowed in confusion, then saw a bright white light starting to glow from her palm over his heart.  His eyes widened and he gasped, but then he felt something start to seep into his skin where her hand lay.  It felt like honey dripping down and through his skin, his muscles, deep into his veins, its warmth enveloping him whole.  The feeling seeped up his head and he could feel it tickling his brain, firing neurotransmitters all at once, muddling his thoughts so all he could focus on was this feeling.  He felt warm, encompassed by light, like all his worries melted away as it oozed through him.  It felt like love.  Peter’s heart was beaming, and he could feel the tears flowing heavily as he smiled.  He was instantly addicted to this feeling, to this reassurance that the love he felt for that father figure in his life truly loved him back.  Tony may not have been the best at saying it, but Peter now knew that all the things he’d done were Tony’s way of showing his love.

After a few moments the oozing feeling began to recede slowly.  Peter couldn’t seem to stop crying, a small laugh escaping his lips.  He realized that his hand had reached up to cover Y/N’s hand placed over his heart.  He focused on Y/N, who was now crying.

“He loved you, Peter,” she whispered, her lips quivering.  “He loved you so much.”

Peter didn’t know what came over him, but in a rush of adrenaline from overwhelming happiness and relief, he wrapped his arms around Y/N in a hug.  She didn’t hesitate in hugging him back.  It seemed like she needed that hug as much as he did.  For the first time in a long time, Peter felt peace.  

***

After that first night in Wakanda, Peter found himself seeking out Y/N constantly.  She had explained that the form of therapy she focused on with each person was based on the idea of their love language and had Peter take the quiz online as well as interview him about his life.  Unsurprisingly, Peter’s main love language was physical touch.  Y/N told him how people who tended to be touch-starved would often have their main love language turn out to be physical touch.  Like with Bucky, how he had been through torture, fighting constantly for decades, so when he was finally shown a kind, gentle, loving hand, he thrived.  Which explained her little signs and greetings she used with him.  It grounded him and reminded him of the good.  “Everyone deserves happiness, affection and love in this life,” she had reminded him.

Y/N and Peter then decided on a signal for when Peter needed some grounding or a reminder that he was loved.  He would tap the spot over his heart 3 times, and she would give him a small dose of that emotion of love from Tony as she laid her hand on his chest.  Peter didn’t do it all the time, but frequently enough that it was done between them out of habit.

Y/N scheduled specific times with each of the Avengers for therapy, and since she was a very intimate person, she held hands, cuddled, hugged, and gave kisses on the cheek to those comfortable with it.  She was extra close to Bucky, and Peter found himself feeling the jealousy creeping further into his mind as the weeks passed. 

He knew that the two were friends, but with how much she intimately cared for Bucky filled Peter with paranoia.  He was suspicious and resentful towards Bucky.  What was worse was that Bucky could tell how Peter was feeling, as he smirked every time he caught Peter glaring or sulking in the corner as Y/N spent time with Bucky or would hug Bucky or Bucky Bucky Bucky!

It all became too much one morning when he saw Y/N walk out of Bucky’s room, her hair ruffled and clothes wrinkled, yawning and stretching as Bucky came out right behind her, looking well-rested and smiling.  Peter swore under his breath and stomped into the kitchen.  Unfortunately they followed him moments later.

“Good morning, Peter,” Y/N asked groggily.  “Are you okay?”

“Fantastic,” Peter spat.

Y/N looked taken aback.  Peter never spoke harshly towards her.  Bucky let out a small snort and went to the fridge for some breakfast.  Y/N watched Peter as he turned away to the pantry for cereal.

“What’s wrong?” she asked quietly, slowly approaching him.

“Nothing,” he sighed, keeping away from her as he walked around the kitchen, grabbing a bowl and spoon.

“Well obviously something is wrong,” Y/N scoffed and followed him.  “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Just spit it out, man,” Bucky yawned.  “She’ll get it out of you one way or another.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Peter snapped, whipping to face Bucky.

“I said what I said,” Bucky sassed back.

“Hey, enough!” Y/N slapped her hand on the counter.  “Peter, what is going on?  Tell me now.  I don’t want to read you but I will if I need to.”

When Peter refused to answer and glared at the floor, Bucky scoffed loudly.  “He’s jealous.”

Y/N’s head swiveled between the two of them.  “Jealous of what?”

“You and me,” Bucky said nonchalantly, taking a sip of his orange juice.

“Me and you for what?” she exasperatedly asked.

“Oh please!” Peter finally yelled.  “What do you mean ‘for what’?  What are you doing coming out of Bucky’s room in the morning looking like that?” he waved towards her.

Y/N furrowed her brow, looking down at herself in confusion.

“Is this how you help us?  ‘Heal’ us?” he air-quoted.  “Or I guess just some of us,” Peter gestured towards Bucky.

“Choose your words carefully, bud,” Bucky warned.

“Wait,” Y/N waved her hands.  “Are you trying to say…do you think I’ve been sleeping with Buck?”

“What else would it be?!” Peter knew he looked and sounded crazy, but the little green monster of jealousy was loose, and he was failing at wrangling it back in.  “I can understand you two being close, that you’ve known each other a long time, you’ve helped him through a lot, but this?  What kind of therapy is this?”

“Peter–”

“Is that how you make him feel better?  Make him forget his nightmares?”

“Pete–”

“Take the pain away with some sexual healing?!”

*SLAP*

Peter jerked back, holding his cheek as his face stung.  He looked up at Y/N with wide eyes.  She was glaring at him, her hand shaking at her side in anger.  Bucky’s mouth hung open, eyes darting between them.  Y/N straightened her stance, closed her eyes and balled her blackened hands into fists.

“Buck,” she breathed.  Bucky quickly retreated back to his room with his food, shutting the door loud enough for them to hear.

Peter was stunned and fearful.  He’d never seen this side of Y/N, and shame overcame him as he knew he’d brought this out of her.  She unballed her fists and crossed her arms over her chest, slowly opening her eyes to look at him.  Her eyes were filled with a simmering anger that he could have sworn he could see it burning in her irises.

“Listen good, Parker, because I’m only going to say this once,” Y/N spoke lowly, scaring Peter further while breaking his heart that she used his last name rather than his first.  “I am not a traditional therapist.  I am not licensed, therefore I am not bound by a code of ethics or client-therapist privilege.  I use my abilities to help people, and at times I’ll use techniques and practices that I’ve studied to see what works best for each person,” she paused and looked away.  “What worked for me,” she murmured.  Peter had the urge to reach out to her, but her eyes quickly came back to him with that fire.

“I treat each person as I see fit, within the boundaries they set.  For Sam, all he needs is a listening ear and a hug.  For Tony, I had to sit back and let him morbidly joke and tease and sarcastically rant through all his trauma.  And as for Bucky,” Y/N’s voice was raising, her arms falling to her sides as she stepped closer to Peter, “Bucky has been through literal hell and back, multiple times, for decades.  He was left on ice then used as a human war machine, his mind erased, his body battered, abused, and experimented on.  He had not felt a kind hand or been given a loving word for over 70 years!” Y/N was now yelling, her hand slapping the kitchen counter again.  Peter backed up into the wall behind him as she took another step towards him.

“So forgive me, Parker, for helping him get through the nightmares that he still suffers with regularly, even if it means cuddling and sleeping in his bed so that he doesn’t hurt himself.  Forgive me for using intimacy and physical touch as his love language to ground him and make him feel safe, wanted, and loved!”

Y/N was now toe-to-toe with Peter, looking up at him with a conviction and fury that had him withering. Her emotions must have been getting the best of her because he could feel that oozing feeling flowing in his body, but instead of the comforting balm he’d grown accustomed to now it felt like a parasite licking its way through every vein.  He shuddered at the feeling, then grunted as she poked his chest hard with her blackened finger.

“And even if I had sex with Bucky, or anyone I’ve ever helped before, it would be none,” *poke*, “of your,” *poke*, “fucking,” *poke*, “business.”  Y/N stared him down as his eyes welled up with tears and another oozing feeling overcame the anger.  It was hurt.  He had hurt her, and Peter would never forgive himself.

Y/N’s eyes softened and she dropped her finger from his chest, stepping away from him.  She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and as she composed herself Peter felt the ooze fade, leaving him emotionally drained.  She flexed her fingers and rolled her shoulders, and when she opened her eyes they were shining with unshed tears.  Peter sniffled at the sight.

“You don’t own me, Peter,” she cried, her voice cracking.  “I am my own.  I belong to no one but myself.  You have no claim to me.  So stop feeling jealous over something, someone, that you have no right to be jealous of,” she sniffed, her lips drawing into a hard thin line.  Peter silently cried, hating himself for making her cry.

“I…I’m sorry,” he whispered, not knowing what else to say at the moment.  Y/N just gave him a long look, then finally nodded her head and walked quickly out of the kitchen.  Peter slumped to the floor, dropping his head into his hands.  How could he be so stupid?

***

The next two weeks were awkward, and it was hell.  Everyone knew that something had happened, they just weren’t sure what.  Y/N still held appointments with everyone else, and would greet everyone throughout the day, but she was much more quiet and reserved.  She gave polite smiles and exchanged quiet conversation, but was not her normal, bubbly, outgoing self.  She touched everyone, except for Peter.

Peter wasn’t fairing well.  Bucky had chewed him out shortly after Y/N left him a heap on the kitchen floor.  He took the verbal beating, knowing he deserved it.  At that point nothing could hurt him as bad as him offending Y/N.  He kept his head hung low whenever they were in the same room, and although it made him feel sick to his stomach, he knew he didn’t deserve her touch and the calming effect she used to give him.  He tried to go to her room once, to talk, apologize again, but couldn't muster up the courage to knock on the door.

The rest of the Avengers could sense the tension, and after a third week of silence between the two, Shuri had enough.

“Usisi,” she called as she knocked on her door.  Y/N shuffled to the door and opened it wide, not meeting Shuri’s gaze, her eyes rimmed red and a sad sniffle coming from her.  Shuri stepped in and enveloped her in her arms.  Y/N buried her face into Shuri’s neck, her arms wrapping tightly around her waist.

“There, there,” Shuri consoled her.  “Come now, why are you letting the jealous words of a man affect you?”

“I just…” Y/N sighed, pulling away and wiping her eyes.  “It just felt like he was different, somehow,” she huffed out.

Shuri nodded and led her to the couch in her room.  Y/N plopped down on it dramatically, shoving her face in a pillow.  Shuri chuckled at her antics.  

“Your abilities cause you to feel things on a heightened level, usisi,” Shuri began.  Y/N pulled herself up and turned to face her on the couch.  “You know how others feel before they can identify those feelings for themselves.  But you have had difficulty knowing your own feelings at times, which is normal.  You do not give yourself grace in your moments of humanity.  And although Parker did not have justifiable emotions or words that day, he is remorseful,” Shuri took her hand, rubbing Y/N’s knuckles softly.

“I know,” Y/N whispered, not trusting her voice.  She squeezed her hand back.  “I’ve grown extremely…attached to him, and it scares me.  It just feels like everyone I ever love,” she shuddered another breath, swallowing past the lump in her throat, “they leave.  Either on their own or they die on me,” she huffed a laugh at her morbid joke.  Shuri wiped away the tears Y/N wasn’t aware had fallen, nodding in understanding.  They had both lost a lot recently.

“I love you, and I’m still here,” Shuri said.  “Our people love you as their own, the Avengers love you, and not just because you help them.  And all those we have lost through death are not ever really gone, you know that.  As for any who have left you willingly, their absence is only a shadow compared to all the love you have in your life.  Peter loves you, most likely in a much more romantic way.  You always tell others that they deserve love and happiness in their lives.  Even if it’s scary, don’t you deserve to have those things, too?”

Y/N sighed as Shuri finished speaking.  She wasn’t sure if she deserved it, but she sure as hell wanted love and happiness.  Life was too hard already, too short but also so long, for her to deny herself some of its greatest beauties.

“Don’t let fear cloud your decisions, Y/N.  Be brave and accept the love you deserve.  What is the saying in that song you love?”  Shuri paused, and brightened when she remembered.  “The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.”

***

Peter sat on the floor, his back leaning against the bed.  He had just tumbled out of bed from a nightmare, taking off his t-shirt that was stuck to his sweaty chest.  He tried to breathe deeply and focus on the things around the room like the color on the walls, the pattern on the bed sheet, counting items and the sound of the soft warm breeze coming through the open window.  The nightmares had come back full force this last week, and the only person he wanted to seek comfort from was ignoring him right now.

He dropped his head into his hands, trying to mentally silence the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears.  Breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, his face hot with tears he quietly cried, he didn’t hear his door open or the padding of feet slowly approach him.  Peter jerked when a hand touched his elbow, and his eyes widened to see Y/N crouched in front of him.  Her usually styled and braided hair was loose and she was wearing an open robe over a tank top dress that reached mid-thigh.  He had never seen her so relaxed.  Her hand slowly moved from his elbow to his hand, interlacing her fingers with his.  She maneuvered herself so that she was straddling his lap while her other hand began sweeping through his sweaty curls.

Her tenderness caused another flood of emotion to wrack through Peter’s body and he cried harder.  He released his hand from hers and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her tightly against him, his face buried into her chest.  Y/N shushed him as he wept, letting him cry it out, her hands massaging along his shoulders and neck and petting his hair.  For a while they sat there, holding each other, until Peter’s cries quieted.  Y/N’s eyes flew open as she felt Peter move his head to nuzzle her chest and place a wet kiss over her heart.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispered, his hands rubbing up and down her back.  “What I said was stupid and inappropriate and I’m just so, so very sorry,” he whimpered and Y/N pulled away.  He quickly gripped her hips, afraid she would leave, but she gently cupped his face in her hands.  She wiped away his tears with her thumbs and shushed him again.  She felt his conflicting emotions and decided to take pity.

Y/N slid her hand from his face to his chest.  She tapped the spot over his heart three times then pressed her hand flat.  The honey-like feeling bloomed in his chest and he visibly slumped against her chest.  She let him revel in it for a long while, her other hand playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.  She felt a few more hot tears fall on her breast, but also a smile form on his lips near her cleavage.  Y/N smiled and slowly pulled her hand away, bringing it back up to his face and pulling him back up to look at her.

“Peter,” she breathed.  He gasped lightly at hearing his name on her lips for the first time in weeks.  “I forgive you,” she said simply.  Peter’s hands tightened on her hips again.  She softly swept her thumbs across his cheeks, her smile widening.  “You’ve got to work on your jealousy, though,” she added, a small giggle slipping out.  Peter huffed a laugh, his head dipping as Y/N’s laugh deepened.

“I know, I know,” he muttered.  He wrapped his arms around her middle again and squeezed as he settled his face in the crook of her neck.  “But we’re good, right?” he hesitantly asked, nuzzling her collar bone.  Y/N scoffed at him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders again.

“Yes, we’re good,” she answered.  She could feel him smile against her neck.  They held each other, thankful that the bump in their friendship was overcome.

Peter decided not to waste any more time.  Be brave, you idiot, he thought.  He nuzzled her neck again, his nose sliding against her jugular, then softly pressed a kiss just below her jaw.  Y/N stiffened against him.  He was afraid of her reaction but she didn’t pull away or question him, so he continued to kiss her, rubbing his hands softly up her back.  As he sucked on the spot below her ear she sighed and shivered.  

“Peter,” she moaned, her nails starting to dig into his back.  He let out his own moan at hearing her say his name like that.  He wanted to hear it again and began to nibble at her earlobe, making her gasp.

“Peter…wait, ungh,” Y/N was struggling to make a coherent thought.  She hadn’t done this in a long time.  Peter stopped but kept himself close.

“Do you want me to stop?” his husky whisper tickled her ear.  She let out a sharp breath.

“No,” she whispered back, her hand slipping up into his hair, pulling back gently for him to look at her.  They breathed heavily, staring at each other for a moment.

“What do you want?” Y/N asked, searching his eyes.  Peter gave her a half smile.

“I want you,” he answered determinedly.  His voice dropped an octave so fast he almost scared himself, but it made Y/N whimper at his tone, and Peter dove in for a kiss to chase the sound.

Y/N kissed him back fervently.  The kiss felt frenzied, as the dam of pent-up sexual tension finally broke.  It was all tongue and teeth, lips smashed together, breaths intertwining, hands gripping and squeezing.  Peter couldn’t believe this was happening.  His hands traveled down until he could cup her butt cheeks, kneading them roughly, squeezing the soft, plushy muscle and pulling her core to his.  She whimpered again, slowly grinding herself into his growing erection.  He moaned loudly as she did, gripping her love handles so hard she knew she’d be bruised in the morning. 

Y/N was so distracted by his lips she didn’t realize Peter had lifted them both off the floor until her back was gently pressed on the bed.  She took the opportunity as they slightly separated to kiss, lick, and suck a trail down his cheek to his neck.  Peter shivered as she nipped just under his jaw, his hands running from her legs to her stomach, pulling at her dress, silently asking permission to pull it up and off of her.  She lifted her hips off of the bed so he could start pulling it up.  After an awkward shifting and wiggling and some giggles, Peter finally got all her clothes off.

Peter ogled at Y/N, completely naked and waiting.  She giggled again at the look on his face, letting her fingers scratch down his chest, making him sputter.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Peter shook, not sure what to do next and needing her to keep scratching him.

“Yes?” Y/N asked coyly, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

“Can I…will you be mine?” Peter settled on that.  His finger brushed along her ribcage mere inches from her breast.  Y/N shivered at the contact.  He was treating her with such tenderness and reverence that it made her skin tingle.

“Yes,” she said definitively.  

Peter’s face lit up, his cheeks hurting with how wide his smile grew.  As he lowered himself over her he felt his cock throb and his face grew serious.  He shut his eyes and sighed out loud.

“What’s wrong?” Y/N asked, confused at his rollercoaster of emotions.

“It’s just, if we do this, start this relationship, I won’t be able to let you go,” Peter said gruffly.  “So are you sure?  Are you mine?”

Y/N felt a flood of emotion coming from him in that question.  It was a loaded question, they both knew it.  She had known for a while now that Peter liked her and wanted her, and despite the hiccup in their relationship, she felt the same towards him.  They had both lost so much, so promising this was a big deal, to not just love but to stay. This was special, she was special to him.  He was asking her to go all in, for as long as she would have him.

Y/N’s eyes brimmed with tears from how emotional it became so quickly.  Peter panicked at the sight but she quickly calmed him, running her finger along the crease between his eyebrows to relieve him.

“Yes,” she whispered, pulling his body flush with hers.  As his naked chest met her breasts he groaned, his head falling to her shoulder.  

“Thank God,” he breathed. 

#marvel #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #smut #oneshot

[fallloverfic]

TGCF donghua Season 2, Episode 8 thoughts

I couldn't even open the episode without screaming today for Reasons TM so yes I'm screaming some more. Very good ep. Spoilers for the show and the book below.

Hua Cheng being like, "Oh, you like it when I just rush in, gege >:3" -flirty-

Just kills me. Xie Lian so tickled pink by it, too. They're so in love.

Aww poor Guzi. He's so scared T-T I do appreciate that they made Guzi's father (and Guzi) wear brighter green roflmao So you know, "yeah that's him." (I mean they also keep focusing on him shots in case you missed "The only character in that bright a green" and "also he has a kid with him"). He's not bad looking. I assume Qi Rong is gonna modify how he looks somehow.

Another outfit change for Xie Lian. He's so cute! I love the idea that Hua Cheng just buys him clothes to wear and Xie Lian is like, "If it makes San Lang happy :D", and it's just this never-ending round of comfortable, pretty clothes that make him look nice. Not like his rough cultivator's garb (at least according to younger Xie Lian, it is very rough on his skin).

Hua Cheng's face when Xie Lian touches him aldkjaldaj Just like OMG GEGE TOUCHED ME HE TOUCHED ME (it's like that Spongebob Squarepants meme with brain Spongebobs running around screaming while his brain is on fire). Aww he's so happy Xie Lian touched him, admiring his hand. It's so cute.

This is "I'm never washing this hand again" behavior.

(Why did that one guy who bumped into the dead person clothes lick his hand when he didn't know what he touched aldkjalda I just alkdjalj why alkdjalj)

Guzi's father is actually comforting him a little (usually he walks with his bound hands ahead of him, but in one shot he's got his hands resting on Guzi's head in what seems to be a comforting gesture)! That's sweet. And then he's maybe covering Guzi's eyes from the dead body ceiling? (Or maybe grabbing onto something in fear, I don't know). Dude may not be a great father but he's doing a little I suppose.

Hua Cheng burning the bodies cause it makes Xie Lian uncomfortable :3 Love he. (Also Xie Lian worrying about Mu Qing :3 And being grateful to Hua Cheng :3).

Xie Lian just... placing all the Trauma to the side cause he can't deal with it right now, it's In The Past TM. As he does. It's just how he's lived for 800 years. You know. (exqueeze me while I cry some more over this man)

THERE HE IS!!! THE TERRIBLE MAN alkdjaldkaj My beloved Qi Rong adlkjalj You're so awful, I love you.

I love all the little details of Qi Rong's design. Just all the bangles, the way he kind of looks like a mobster showing off, and his slightly unkempt hair. And he has green claws! Here's the full official poster of him if you'd like, though I think it's more fun to see him in the show. I still love his shoes, and his single glove with the cut off thumb is nice. Also you can't tell from the poster, but his long hair is braided and goes past his waist.

There's also like... something strangely cute about his interactions with his minions. They're all so protective of him. (Well, until they run away in fear of Hua Cheng roflmao)

Hehe Pei Xiu returns. He's not going to be bothered.

Xie Lian like, "haha yeah exile is very idle" alkdjaldkaj WE'RE SHELVING THE TRAUMA YEP

roflmao you can't tell in the subtitles, but if you listen to the voices, you can tell they're censoring what Qi Rong is saying about the heavenly officials XD (like you can hear the censor buzz sound to cut off what he's saying in Chinese lol) That is hilarious. I love that so much.

I don't think they needed to spend so much time with reused animation from previous episodes. I think a briefer flashback of Xuan Ji would have been better. But well... whatever. I know part of my impatience is that it's been so many years and we only get so many episodes and it's gonna be who knows how many years before we get the next season lol Like it's not a bad thing in terms of narrative (if I think still overly drawn out), I'm just like "yes, yes, I get it, now go back to new stuff".

Guzi's father begs them to spare Guzi T-T He's not all terrible. Just a bit terrible.

I love that Hua Cheng catches the statue and gently places it on the ground. Even if he hates the statue and what it represents, he won't destroy an image of his gege, or treat it poorly.

I do appreciate Xie Lian's instinct to protect The Child TM, but like roflmao Xie Lian, his father is still human and like getting his body broken. You could also idk... save him...? Too...?

Just want to appreciate the animation here. Something about Qi Rong holding Hua Cheng's arm (and Hua Cheng holding his head). It's really nice.

The fight scene was really good! A bit slow, but I get it's the dramatic reveal of the "Xie Lian" clone with lipstick and green eyes! Is he a body snatcher? Is he a clone of Xie Lian?? Tune in next week to find out!!

The subs were mostly fine this episode. I'm still confused why they shorten "Immortal" to "Immor" but they did that on something else, so I guess they're at least consistent about the weirdness and the maybe edited machine translation.

Overall, very good ep. The chibis were cute! Angry Hua Cheng being magical and powerful was fun! My favorite terrible man is finally on the scene, can't wait to see how much more awful he is next episode! Hua Cheng's comeuppance with this will I guess be delayed until then lol I thought it'd be this week. But that's fine!

Other episode thoughts for season 2 (didn't start till episode 3):

S02E03

S02E04

S02E05

S02E06

S02E07

S02E08 (you are here)

S02E09

S02E10

S02E11

S02E12

#Heaven Official's Blessing #HOB #TGCF #Hua Cheng #Xie Lian #Hualian #Hua Cheng/Xie Lian #Hua Cheng x Xie Lian #spoilers #good fucking food #Qi Rong #Guzi #fallfthoughts

[akunose]

Since I had to re-play Chapter 13 once again to get the amour everybody uses for the Brutal Challenges, I decided to appreciate the Fortress/Temple design a bit more this time around and give myself some saves to get to certain sections without having to play all of it again. And now I somehow ended up with a small ramble...

I really like the design, both in historical audio book mode as well as self-destruct. It's definitely not as M. C. Escher as the original though. Ignoring the Troopers flying off sideways constantly of course. The Mural of the fight with the Calamity glowing red as a whole looks fantastic. (Had to brighten the unlit one in PS cause it's hard to see on PC compared to on TV)

Lots of clockwork references in the Cetran armour you can pick up. There is also the Valkyrian Bangle that would fit in well with Minerva.

Cogs and clock hands everywhere. Something shared with the Half Anniversary skins in Ever Crisis. And the wallpapers of them just so happen to place Seph, Zack, Glenn and Cloud in the sealed tower of the Cetra. There is also the stage design for Loveless in Gold Saucer of course. S/N: during my first play-through I didn't notice Squenix re-using Alphreid/Alfred's model continiously during the Mural Room compared to the obvious moment of the voice taking "Rosa's" form lol

Anyway, my first thought when I saw the stage design for G Edition was, "Well, that reminds me of Seph's trilogy accessory."

Not quite a match but that's how first associations go. Sephiroth's fashion statement doesn't have a clock face, it seems to have a wing engraved on it. But do you know when Seph started wearing something alongside his Solider Belt officially?

Technically, KH but that was more replacing the belt. Answer being, the original Dissidia, basing his look on the concept art by Amano.

And lo and behold at least in the English Sub, Gilgamesh mentions the Warriors of Light and how he is very much looking forward to beating the shit out of his nemesis aka Bartz. Which reminded me that another FF re-imagining not so long ago was a direct Prequel to not only FF1 but also Dissidia/012/NT/OO. Like that timeline of events didn't already become messy once the Protagonists and Villains started retaining their memories of previous encounters. Kind off.

Not sure where I wanted to go with this but I wanted to get it out, so here's a Seph in case someone actually sat through reading this lmao

#ffvii rebirth #ffvii ever crisis #sephiroth #ramble

[iliektehhaxs]

Was thinking what the ff16 lads with the ladies would think of tattooed reader like the whole thing of bearers being marked how they think

Cause to reader it could be a cultural thing like how in the glaives in ff15 movie or it’s something they liked or even in a memory of something

Having a whole patch on her back or little lines on the neck or ear or having one on the wrist like a bangle

Upon meeting you for the first time it was plain as day—the dark lines that adorned you, varying shades of black and gray decorating your skin. Everyone in the hideaway was familiar with being marked, a majority still branded as slaves, so when you introduced yourself as a new member of their resistance no one thought for a second to question your tattoos. They knew far too well the trauma induced with being assigned as property.

Still, the nature of your tattoos were curious. They were unlike the x shaped insignia that the public had come to associate with branded—they were much more intricate, decorative.

Clive

After some time he found curiosity got the better of him, although he had no idea how to confront you on your tattoos. Lucky for Clive you saw him staring and confronted him yourself.

At first he thought maybe you were branded before, that your previous owner did this to you as a form of punishment, or some sick game. Your laughter surprised him, but even more so was that the marks on your skin were voluntary. You lift your sleeve to fully expose them, and answer any question he may have about the meaning, much to your amusement.

Joshua

Joshua walks on eggshells when it comes to the topic of your markings, unsure if it’s something you’re even willing to talk about. One starry night you’re relaxing side by side, when out of nowhere Joshua looks to your tattooed fingers solemn. When you ask him why, he simply replies—

“You should not have gone through that. Perhaps I can heal your wounds using the power of the Phoenix.”

To which you blink at him bewildered. Wounds? Where?

You follow his eyes, smiling to yourself at his well-meaning words. You’re not surprised at the thought process, most people with tattoos are branded so it’s very rare to find someone who does it for themselves. You explain that it’s actually part of your culture, and it’s as if his eyes grow bigger. Now he’s asking about your homeland, questions you’re happy to answer.

Cid

One of the few people in the hideaway aware that tattoos can be voluntary. The both of you are a good glass into a very find bottle of rum when he asks you what your tattoos are. Your eyes light up, immediately showing off each one to a very impressed dominant of lightning. He mentions that he thought about getting one himself in his younger years, but decided not to in the end. It’s one of his regrets, and when you offer to get a matching tattoo with him he’s flattered.

Jill

It’s a conversation starter really, how she’s never seen someone with inked fingers. To her surprise you grin wide, proud of the fact and tell her you have much more impressive imagery on your body than just your fingers.

When she does ask, you lift the bottom of your shirt and reveal a massive back piece, colored to perfection. She’s in shock at the detail of it, and after tentatively asking you allow her to trace her fingers over it, face slightly hot at just how gently she touches you.

Tarja

You think she’s never seen a tattoo before? Darling, you’re in for a treat.

A routine checkup turns into a tat for tat in the literal sense when you have to pull your shirt down. A filigree of designs adorn your collarbone, to which Tarja whistles her appreciation for the fine art decorating your skin. Wordlessly she pulls back her sleeve to show off a lily she had gotten on her shoulder, right after she removed her brand and joined Cid. Her own personal joke—lilies stand for innocence, but there is certainly nothing innocent about her.

#robo speaks #ask

[ethepearl]

Julius The Dressmaker & Killian Lynch Redesigns

(Not my character; og creator is @sanityisforlosers | Killian’s outfit redesign by my frien (thanks baddie))

[Btw; the body & profiles are technically traced? If u wanna see the speed paints i will provide them, so u can understand what i mean💀]

Julius’ Physical Changes;

~He now has a two toned purple dress with a brown chained corset and belt (Dress; he makes dresses so like why not wear them? Corset; It’s iconic, he need it expeditiously. Chains; Represent the original chains that bind him to hell </3.)

~Short brown booties😩 (Why?; Cause I said so. Chains; still represent the chains binding him to hell.)

~Golden bangle with engraved heart (i changed the bracelet cause I felt like the original beaded bracelet was ugly, sorry Sanity 💀)

~Piercings; lobe, vertical eyebrow. (I thought they looked pretty.)

~DIMPLES😩 (why?; I dont know js felt like it)

~Bigger lips (Dawg, his original lips looked like he couldn’t even the gulp gulp 3000, again sorry Sanity💀)

~More of an arched nose (Its pretty, that’s the only reason 😻😻)

~Darker skin (It was a mistake but he looks way better with darker skin than white rice skin color)

~in this redesign he gets shot in the cheek and his temple (Lets be so fr rn, your not gonna die from a shot in the cheek💀)

~Not physical but no more necrophila😻😻 that’s fucking disgusting man

Killian’s Physical Changes;

~Fishnet undershirt, Maroon long sleeved shirt, Brown corset with gold details, Dark gray baggy pants, Brown boots with gold details. (I didn’t make the outfit, friend tagged at beginning did 😩. But the corset has the design of his vest)

~Piercings; Industrial, Gauges, Dimples, Labret, Nostril (Cause I said so😩)

~Accurate stitching in his neck (I think it’s accurate at least?)

~Skin gets cooler and lighter in true form (it makes sense since he’s dead)

~Bigger lips (Dawg, his original lips looked like he gets no pussy, again sorry Sanity💀)

~W33D😩 (Necessary)

~Again not physical but no more rapie rapie, necrophilia, and misogyny (Yes he’s still an incubus, but a consensual incubus 😻)

#redesign #creepypasta #julius the dressmaker #killian lynch #hellcrew

[feder-costumes]

Part two of the Artemis headgear! Here we came to the 'inmovable factors' of the whole thing: everything needed to be secure on my head, without being painfull or restricting BUT everything also needed to be detachable for easier transport.

So... the idea was to have a mount inside the wig where I can mount everything on. At first I tried for a wig with mount + headgear version but soon realised that it would be easier to have the horns and the moons seperate. So what I ended up with was a weirdly shaped headband with some antennas, made from sturdy craftboard, shaped to my head, with an adjustable elastic band in the back, pokeing out of the wig, where I can attach the horns to with screws. Getting the orientation of the little antennas right, so the horns would point in the right directions took some trial and error with the heatgun but then it look really promising. Please enjoy this goofy video of me testing how it would hold up to constant head movement. I didn't intent for the horns to have this much jiggle but it causes me _immense_ joy bc I _love_ secondary movement in costumes (or character designs overall). With the horns out of the way, the headband with the moons could be much smaller and less of a constraption and more of an... well, headband. I used some leather leftovers, I've dyed a darker shade of green as base and glued everything onto that. (insert 2h montage of me upturing every box and shelf for find those golden bangle thingies I knew I had SOMEWHERE but couldn't find) And then sewed several hairpins onto the inside, so I could hook it into the wignet itself. Addionly the front middle has a magnet, that attaches to an corresponding magnet inside the wig to keep it from slipping and hold it centered. The back has another slim elastic, which I thread though the braid in the back to hold the band snug to the sides of my head and give it a bit more hold on my head. I have to say that I felt immense relieve when I tried this on the first time and realisd that my plan would work???? Like.... I was high from that feeling. I was crunching the rest of this costume within two weeks before the convention and my plan for the headgear not working out was my greatest fear bc I had no other idea how to do it. Or it working and then being uncomftable or painfull to wear or something. But then it just... worked. Yay me! And now that I also wore it to a convention... it also works for a whole convention day. And it's also comftable for a whole convention day. I have to secure the wig, so the weight of the braid doesn't pull it back but the headgear? Super secure. Easy to put on, considering everything. Comfy to wear. Fyear success.

#cosplay progress #cosplay wip #artemis progress #crafting #diy

[lupismaris]

The Opening Act of Spring- a Black Sails Fic. Chapter 1.

The Silverflinthamilton modern au that I’ve been drawing for over a year (where Flint owns a gay bar) is being written! Set five-ish years after a modern canon which will be somewhat told through flashbacks and exposition.

(Chapter one of idk how many but until more is written it’s going to live entirely on tumblr. )

Somewhere in the Village, Silver was counting Rolex and Cartier wristwatches, drop diamond earrings, plated gold layered necklaces, and birkins that were made to look well worn. He was counting, and noting the clear bell-like tone of the glass ware as it clinked together- crystal, the real stuff with the faintest etchings, but understated enough to look like it belonged in an effortless rooftop lounge. He didn’t usually enjoy rooftops, the only way out was the elevator unless he wanted to make an outfit change and that was usually too much work, and most rooftops only had one reserved for the restaurant, bar, or lounge. It was poor design for emergencies, poorer still for anyone looking to make a clean exit.

“Oh, enough already.”

Silver blinked and the room around him hummed loudly, violently, back to life, the carefully selected sounds of glassware and certain voices drowned out by a wave of noise.

Rackham sat across the small marble topped table, dressed neatly in a silk shirt that was unbuttoned nearly to the navel, tight high wasted trousers that made him seem even taller than he already was, and an assortment of jewelry that Silver knew half belonged to his sister. The exasperated look on his face, and the amusement that couldn’t be hidden behind his rose tinted glasses, made Silver smile.

“Sorry. Old habits.”

“I didn’t invite you here specifically for a job. This is called drinks, aperitif even- its what normal people do,” Rackham waved a hand and Silver watched the way his gold bangles caught the soft light of the room, accented further by the late afternoon sun. “No need to case the joint, cause if you get caught lifting anything worth less than 20k I’m not covering for you.”

Silver rolled his eyes. “As if I’d settle for anything less than that. You know me better, Jack.”

“Well I’d like to think so but your last few jobs have me a trifle concerned, sweetums.”

Their second round of drinks were delivered, Rackham flashing the waiter a smile and placing an order for an assortment of small plates. Silver wasn’t particularly hungry, not that he had eaten, it was more that the sudden summons to Manhattan had gone from generally positive to somewhat suspicious, once Rackham had started suggesting things that weren’t entirely business. And that suspicious feeling left his stomach a little too uneasy for overpriced appetizers with colorful garnishes.

But Rackham seemed unbothered by the tension in Silver’s shoulders.

“Is this a critique then? I thought I was being invited as a glorified house guest. At least that’s how my sister makes it sound. Not like I’m much good in your fashion designer games now am I?” He asked, taking up his glass. “Unless you want to truss me up like a prized poodle in whatever your newest designs are.”

“I can hear the note of condescension and it is unappreciated you fuck. Honest business is honest business and your sister and I happen to be doing very well for ourselves, thank you very much. Two of our designs are in this room alone,” Rackham said, and while his posture remained relaxed and unbothered, the knife like edge to his words made Silver smile brightly.

“Oh don’t twist up your thong, if you’re going to insult my skill it’s only fair I take a dig at yours don’t you think?”

“No. Because my skill has rogue fashion studios in Paris and now Manhattan,” Rackham says flatly. “That are giving the design houses a legitimate challenge and strong arming our way into fashion week. You, sir, are back to swindling old men for their investment portfolios or old women for their opera jewels. Things you have long since out grown.”

The noise of the room shifted again, as Silver sat back in his seat and scowled. “So this is a critique.”

“Would you prefer round one of an intervention?”

“Not really.”

Rackham sighed and set his drink down, propping his elbows on the table. “Look- you are, without risk of inflating your ego, the smartest man I know. I hate it, believe me. And you are wasting your time and talent on jobs that are going to get you caught. Your sister knows this. I know this. Even Chaz knows this-”

“Oh for fucks sake-”

“Ah let me finish- It’s been what, five years now? Six? Since the big one- since the glory that was our shared retirement.” Rackham spread his hands wide as if that simple gesture could, somehow by some miracle, encompass everything that had happened in the short, harrowing year that lead up to their so called retirement. “And you have not managed to retire.”

“No- no that’s not true. I did retire. I did. And it was awful. Okay?” Silver argued. “It was the worst fucking thing I’ve ever done. I mean my god you think people actually enjoy just laying around on a beach all day? I just-”

“You didn’t have to actually retire you idiot but you were supposed to find something else to do other than this-” Rackham waved at Silver, again as if the simple gesture could encompass everything that was his current state. “You could have done just about anything, conned your way into, I dunno, vineyard ownership, art collecting, travel writing solely for the sake of writing, writing bad romance novels for sexless married straight people, romance novels for the queers, literally anything-”

“I tried- and it was all just-” Silver sighed, giving up on an answer and instead sipping his whiskey cocktail. It was easier than trying to explain the fact that somehow, in that short, impossible year, he’d finally become someone real, someone tangible, and now he couldn’t be anyone else. And that at least, by being a con man, he was staying true to himself in the one way he knew how.

Rackham sat back in his seat again and pushed his glasses up on his head, tussling his carefully mismanaged curly mullet.  “I know. Its not easy, finding a new life to lead. It took all of us time to find the people we were before it all happened. To find the people we wanted to be in the ashes the were left behind. I can… only imagine it’s much harder for you.”

Wasn’t that a laughable notion. A truth of course, Silver conceded, but a laughable one.

Everyone had lost something that year, you don’t go into a con of that level without taking risks. You don’t challenge men of that stature, companies of that wealth, collections of that value, without putting everything you value on the line.

But everyone else had walked away with something, someone. Some semblance of themselves.

Everyone but Silver.

“Your letter had said this was about a job,” Silver said finally. A letter. An actual letter too, on nice paper with a letter head and a wax seal and everything because Rackham was, if nothing else, authentic to the core and spared no detail, even in gently bribing a friend, nae, colleague, into what was starting to feel a little bit like a trap, though Silver couldn’t put his finger on why. “Does Max know about it?”

“Yes. I wouldn’t summon her brother without consulting her first. I like my dick well enough were it is thanks.”

“What Job?”

Rackham smiled and shook his head. “That’s not what this is. This is aperitif, drinks, catching up, remember?”

“We don’t do that, Jack.”

“We never had the opportunity.”

“Hardly have to start now.”

“I disagree.” He tilted his head. “By the way, what name is it you’re using these days.”

Ah.

That was why it was starting to feel like a trap.

The amusement had faded from Rackham’s eyes. He was watching Silver like a Cat, the way he used to in the Islands all those years ago, when he was hoping to catch Silver’s tell, catch his bluff. The faintest, thoughtless smile hung at the corners of his lips, accented by his curled mustache.

Silver held his gaze and said nothing.

“Mmm. That’s what I thought.”

“Jack-”

“Still using the name he gave you.”

Rackham’s smile grew as he sipped his drink, something golden like sunlight as it swirled around it’s coupe glass. Silver fought for calm, keeping his face impassive as he watching Rackham scan the room like any diner would.

“I chose the name, thank you.”

“Oh pish posh, you chose it, he chose it, tomato, tomahto. We all know the truth, Silver.”

Rackham fixed him with a hard look, arm hooked over the back of his chair and a cold light in his eyes.

“He’s the one who pinned you with that name like the tag on a fucking corpse. You’ve worn a hundred names in this life and the last, and whats it matter now? Oh nothing, just that your own personal god gave meaning to the empty promises you made the day you tried to rob him blind.”

There was a knife on the table. Sharp. Cerated. But that would be more than the moment deserved, even if the curdled taste on Silvers tongue demanded a bitter iron accompaniment. He could get up and walk away, that was the civil thing to do, and they were now civil people, feral things made clean and tame in the eyes of the well mannered world, or so his sister would remind him every so often during their calls.

But the hard look in Rackham’s eyes softened and he set aside his drink, reaching across the table for Silver’s hand. Silver stared at it for a moment before reaching to take it.

“You’re not the only one sour about the fact you got stuck. I’m just sorry yours…”

“Went up in smoke?” Silver offered with a tired smile.

Rackham laughed softly. “Well yes, but then faking one’s death is a pretty clean way out of the game. It was kind of you, offering him such a way out, when he didn’t deserve it.”

The uneasy feeling that had twisted Silver’s stomach up into knots was starting to reach his chest, twisting and churning it like the old sea before a storm. Silver pulled his hand away and sipped his drink, giving the waiter a moment to drop off the small plates Rackham had ordered.

The lounge, with the reflections in the glass of nearby buildings, felt a bit untethered to Silver, crowded and empty depending on where you looked, people coming and going in large groups and small. The decor was clean and simple, well placed greenery taking the place of abstract art, and two art deco inspired bars placed at opposite ends of the rooftop to give a sense of wide open space. Among the movement and the noise, it was easy to feel like one’s eyes were playing tricks, and with his nerves on edge, Silver felt like he was seeing ghosts in the corner of his eyes. He knew it was just the conversation, summoning them, that he wasn’t seeing old allies and enemies amongst the Manhattan socialites on a Tuesday evening.

He knew Rackham wouldn’t risk him like that.

Didn’t he?

“That isn’t fair to him,” Silver said once the waiter had left, Rackham glancing up from his plate. “To Flint-”

The rest quietly disappeared, exchanged to the Spanish government for a very lucrative payout (was it the total value? No but near enough that everyone would land on their feet, made sweeter by what they cleared out from Woodes’ investments), which then of course had been divided up into the appropriate accounts via wire so that, ideally, no one would ever have to see each other ever again.

The mention of the name alone shifted the air in the room, only for Silver of course No one else had any reason to notice the delicate way he uttered the single syllable. He wasn’t even sure if he was still using the name these days.

Their names had never fully gone public, during The Con. Sure they’d all been in the Islands, engaged in various events and jobs for The Guthrie Shipping Company, now out of business permanently, but records were lost, names smudged, burned, deleted, hard-drives wiped, the usual clean up that needs to be done after a dozen deaths, a minor workers rebellion, and the disappearance of 5 million in Spanish gold.

A portion of the gold had been seized on a private flight out of Nassau, in the luggage of one Woodes Rogers, who even five years later was still claiming he was framed, despite a plethora of evidence linking him and other English investors to various aspects of the Con.

It had after all been a very hectic year, a bit of time apart was in order.

They were meant to scatter.

Except Max and Anne and Jack and Charles, the Rangers as they had affectionately become known, who wandered off to Europe, to rusticate in Italy if Silver remembered correctly. Of course they were destined to stay together, the world now their oyster to bend to their mighty wills, and Silver was, truly, glad for them. No one quite deserved a soft and joyful ending, free of blood and non-consenting bondage, quite like his sister and her lover, and her lover’s men. Italy had become France, once the plan for their “Rogue Fashion House” as Jack called it, had come to fruition. Max and Jack each worked on the designs, Jack tailored them almost entirely himself and Max acted as head model. It was art for Art’s sake, they didn’t need the money (They’d swindled a few wealthy tourists and retirees on their Italian tour, and they were comfortable), they just wanted the magazines frothing at the bit, club kids and fashion week hipsters wearing their designs instead of Dior.

To disrupt and irritate and make their name stick.  A bit of glory all their own.

Silver could support that.

Rackham tilted his head, toothpick from one of the plates between his teeth. “Don’t do that. Don’t go giving the man grace when you already gave him a miracle. Christ above Silver I’ll start wondering about that bleeding old heart of yours next.”

Silver smiled wryly. “Nothing to worry about there. That’s cold and hollow and tired. And done with, thank you very much.”

“Oh is that so?”

“Yes. I don’t have it in me and I’d like it if you’d just left it alone, I can smell the meddling,” Silver warned him, “I’m not interested. If I was  I’d have gone to London and looked him up.”

“London?” Rackham frowned.

“Yeah. London. Or I dunno, maybe he went to Scotland, he’d probably be much happier up that way. He could go on for hours about how much he hated England but with-” Silver shook his head. The ghost was in the corner of his eye again, not quite the man he once knew but unnerving all the same.

His Flint had worn his hair short near the end, shaved clean cut in a military style with a haunted, gaunt look to his face. Still handsome, still the kind of man to hold the room’s attention and breath in the palm of his hand without so much as a spoken word, all he needed was a look. But the darkness that had come to live inside them both had graced Flint’s shoulders like a mantle, well worn, well loved, regal in it’s weight and grief and echoing in every facet of his body.

Silver cleared his throat. “With his husband being alive I’m sure he’d want to go home, pick up the pieces of their old lives and everything. I figured they made their way back to the UK once he broke him out of the hospital. I let him. That’s why it’s not fair, to say he didn’t deserve such a way out,” he clarified, as Rackham listened. “He didn’t- I was supposed to meet him. Once he’d found his husband and gotten him safely home.”

“… you chose not to.”

“It was never formally arranged.” Silver shrugged and sipped his drink. The whiskey had lost it’s flavor, only the burn remained. “When I showed him the file, all the evidence that his husband was alive in that facility, after all these years- he didn’t wait to make a plan, Jack. He left. That night with what few essentials he could pack and a kiss goodbye.”

There was a look in Rackham’s eye now, as Silver explained, that seemed almost pitying. There were few things Silver hated as much as pity.

“He left for one airport. I left for another. By the time he was in Austria I was on my way to New Zealand with a new phone number that only Max had and everything else burned and scrapped completely. Put the little I had into secured storage.”

Rackham sighed. “Fucking hell, John.”

“It was for the best.”

“Oh is that what you’ve been telling yourself?”

“Fuck you-”

“Yes yes, fuck me, you’re a good enough lay. The point stands, you made a choice, again. And you’re living with the fallout. Well maybe not living.”

“I am. And I’d like to keep doing that if it’s all the same to you.”

Rackham shook his head. “It’s not. And it’s not to your sister. We both came to the decision to call you and ask you here, not just for a job, which there is one I promise though that will be discussed once we are all together. So you have to stay long enough for that to happen no matter how sick of me you get,” he smiled sweetly and Silver considered the risks of punching him. Fighting Anne later was never worth it. Throwing a drink? No that came with public reaction. “Look I can see you debating your exit and whether or not you can subtly fillet me with that knife, but before you do, can I please just say my piece and then it will rest, for good, and I’ll not bring it up again?”

Silver held his gaze for a moment, looking for a tell, a bluff, anything.

The trouble was Rackham was as good a card shark as Silver.

There was nothing.

“Fine.”

“Thank you.” Rackham picked up his drink again and sat back in his seat, sipping at it as he looked Silver over for a moment. “Now. I am grateful that you told me your side of things in a very adorable attempt to try and, for whatever reason be it delirium or lingering feelings, give some grace to Flint and the fact that while you have been drifting aimlessly from con to con and mark to mark, he and his impeccably well dressed trophy husband have been living out their quaint little fairy tail.”

“Is this going to be a long final piece?”

“Hush. Now where was I-”

“The fairy tale.” Silver gritted out.

The ghost was sitting in the corner of his right eye now. Sitting there by the bar, not fluttering in and out, just sitting. It wasn’t Flint, just a man with similar red hair, longer of course, heavier built, but the fucked up wiring in Silver’s fucked up brain so desperately wanted it to be a ghost, so desperately wanted it to be Flint. Not for any good reason.

They had nothing to say to each other.

“Yes the fairy tale. You’ve gone to the ends of the proverbial earth because you, god forbid, fell in love with the worst possible man you could have fallen in love with, and we’ve forgiven you for that, and you give him this miracle, yes? You do this because you love him. You give him the impossible, his husband, who was dead. And instead of living out this fairy tale with him and his husband who, if I may, is a specimen, you commit yourself to a-” Rackham paused for a moment, sipping his drink as he mulled over the words.

“Life of my own?”

Rackham scoffed. “A mockery of one but fine, a life of your own, without even having a conversation. Fine. I’d be a bit allergic to such a conversation too but what I don’t understand, is why that bastard, with all the shit he’s done in his life, get’s the fairy tale.”

“Because he does. And that’s how it needed to be. If he didn’t things wouldn’t have ended. You know that, Jack.” Silver finished his drink. “The con would have gone on for ever, the gold would have become another treasure, another smugglers business to bring down, another union uprising, you know it would have gone on-”

“And so you bring him down with his Achilles heel and condemn yourself to purgatory. How noble for a man who claimed to never have morals.”

“Your point, Jack. If you please.”

“The point is, I have two reasons for you being back in Manhattan. The first is a very selfish cause, the job. The second,” Rackham waved a hand with a easy smile, “let’s call a spiteful settling of the scales.”

“The fuck are you talking about-”

The ghost.

The ghost in the corner of his eye.

Silver felt his blood run cold and his heart drop, a lead weight into the pit of his empty stomach. He sat, still as a man possibly could with fear clawing it’s way up his throat like a caged animal desperate for air.

Rackham watched him, carefully, sipping his cocktail. “Do you know why I picked this spot? It’s a new place, just opened a couple weeks ago and still very precious, hard to get a table. The dream of a whiz kid from the Bronx so I’m told, incredibly talented, next to no formal training, just a devotion and ambition. And of course,” a tilt of the head towards the bar, “the right sympathetic ear with a very sexy bank account. Takes a bit of digging online to find the investors, they prefer privacy, not to overshadow the stars they patron-”

“Jack-” Silver’s voice barely registered over the echoing noise of the lounge.

The ghost was moving, greeting someone at the bar, someone in a chef’s coat.

“But if you do go digging, if it interested you, you’d find one Lord Thomas Hamilton,” Rackham said looking Silver over. “He’s a devoted patron of well deserving cases it seems. Especially now that he’s got his old man’s money on top of whatever share Flint still has in the vault.”

There was a knife in his hand. Silver didn’t remember reaching for it, the cerated dinner knife clutched in a white knuckle grip so that the blade was parallel with his wrist, sharp edge outward. But holding it, solid and real and sure, was a comfort all the same. Even if the ghost was just some man with red hair.

The room felt impossibly small, suffocating, the sound muted save for Rackham’s voice. His hands rested on his lap, knife in the right, the left clutching tightly at his left knee, that ached with an old, vengeful pain.

“They’re not in the UK, Silver. They spent six months there I think, long enough to get the paperwork resolved for the inheritance and make sure the Lady Barlow was comfortable situated in her new digs. She’s doing well by the way. But once Thomas Hamilton was cleared from the hospital? Flint brought him back to New York far as I can tell, before finding a quiet spot up in New England for a time to weather the worst of it. But they tell me it was only a year or so before they were settling down in the City properly.”

“They- they Tell you?” Silver forced himself to ask.

Rackham nodded. “Considering Flint hunted us down the moment he realized you’d flown the fucking coop?Yeah. They tell us quite a bit these days. We kept our mouths shut in the beginning, other than to tell him you were alive. Had a feeling if we didn’t do that he’d topple back into the old ways over night, but what can you do hmm? Anyway, He let it go once the trail went cold. You did the job rather neatly, for what it’s worth.”

The terror, the grief, or whatever feelings Silver was forced to withstand in that moment must have shown on his face. Rackham sighed, and sipped his drink, his smile soft and indulgent around the rim of his coupe glass.

“What was that you were saying before? Your heart being cold and hollow? Sounds a bit like that grave you should have put him in when you had the chance, don’t you think?” he asked softly. “Before love snared you like the rest of us?”

Again the ghost was moving in the corner of his vision, talking to the person in the chef’s coat, shaking his hand, turning away from the bar to face the room- cold icy panic filled Silver to the core. Everything left unsaid, every goodbye rehearsed in hotel bathrooms at 3 in the morning, every broken apology, every canceled phone call from burner cells and hotel lobby phones- everything began to echo through his mind with the urgency of a siren.

And the grief.

Oh the grief.

He felt like he was drown all over again.

“He hasn’t spotted you yet,” Rackham said, confirming the fear. “But he’s close. He’s scanned the room twice, glanced this way with a curious look but I think that’s cause of me. He won’t acknowledge me in public without his husband though. In truth, I wasn’t sure he’d be here tonight but it was as good a chance as any.”

“Jack please-” Silver was willing to beg. He’d never begged before, but this seemed like a good enough reason to start.

“You have a clear path to the exit and the elevator, with what should be enough cover once the kitchen door opens. I’ve been watching them, they have a rhythm.” He pulled a card out from his wallet and passed it to Silver. “I know you have a room but this is the hotel suite your Sister booked for you. It’s closer to us but not so much so that he’ll find you with that irritatingly smart brain of his.”

Silver took the card and pocketed it. He’d only arrived the night before, checked in to a little boutique hotel by Grand Central to keep his head down. But whatever Max had planned was what he’d do, he was too worried about Flint right now to argue with her, and she had probably planned for this anyhow.

 “Take a deep breath and count to ten,” Rackham said firmly. “On ten, get up and walk calmly for the exit. Calmly, do you understand me?”

Silver nodded.

“If he follows you I’ll do what I can to slow him down. He’s not going to catch you. I promise you John.”

Silver knew Rackham’s word was good.

All tricks and lies and charm aside, he knew that to be true.

“Ready?”

“Yes.”

“From 10. Starting now.”

Silver inhaled all the way to five and exhaled from five to ten, at which point he smiled and thanked Jack for the drinks, made a quick excuse about having to run. He got up from the table, placing the knife back with the rest of the silverware, and made sure to turn his back to the bar. Rackham grabbed his hand briefly, giving it a quick squeeze.

“Run, Rabbit,” Rackham said with a wink, and Silver made for the exit.

They timed it well enough, Silver headed for the door just as a wave of orders came out from the kitchen. The floor was confused for a moment, a chaotic dances of servers in white aprons and newly arriving diners trying to get to their tables and other patrons flagging someone down for their bill. Silver did his best to weave in and out of the various moving bodies, keeping his head down and eyes on the door, wondering to himself if this was how Orpheus had felt in that fateful challenge.

Fuck if that wasn’t proof he was still in hell over it all, ruined to the day he finally died by the secret romantic that Flint had been. There he was terrified of facing Flint again for the first time in over five years and he was thinking of Orpheus and Eurydice.

What a joke.

Just a few more tables to clear, and the hostess stand, and then Silver would be free, able to disappear around the corner and into the crowds of millions below, reveling in the springtime evening. He’d be free, he told himself, as he carefully sidestepped around a waitress who nearly dropped a tray on him.

“God I’m sorry sir, you good?” the waitress asked as she steadied herself, already taking a few steps away.

“I’m alright, I’m alright,” Silver assured her, only to find himself looking back at Rackham, and in turn, the bar where his ghost had been standing.

His ghost who was staring right at him, as if he too was looking a dead man in the eye.

Flint was wearing white.

It was Flint, of course, a bit older. He’d grown his hair back, it was falling in loose waves across his shoulders even with the more pronounced widows peak. There was more gray in it now, bright streaks of it along the temples and woven into it like starlight, combed into his beard and mustache that he still wore thick and well groomed the way he had when Silver had kissed him goodbye. Silver’s skin prickled with the phantom touch of it, the way it had felt to be kissed by him, the tickle of his beard along his skin. He’d filled out at long last it was easy to see even at this distance, his soft barrel chested torso, broad shoulders no longer weighed down with an impossible weight. He was dressed in simple, elegant clothes- a cleanly pressed button down and well fitted suit pants, leather loafers, a bit of jewelry that caught the light, all subtle and understated the way he always had been.

But what nearly broken Silver, what nearly kept his feet from moving and let him be caught? The silliest thing of all really.

Silver could hardly remember a time the man wore anything that wasn’t a mourning color.

He heard Rackham’s voice, a loud overly smarmy greeting as he moved to join Flint at the bar and intercept him before he could catch up to Silver and that served to force Silver’s feet to start moving again. He didn’t wait to watch as Flint no doubt shoved his way past Rackham, with whatever niceties or lack there of he could muster in his anger. He cleared the hostess stand and rounded the corner, nearly sprinting as best as he could on his prosthetic for the elevators as everything he’d fought to keep down for so many years tore its way back up his throat. He had to wonder what scars it would leave, whether it would match the rest of his collection.

“Silver!” came Flint’s voice from behind him. “Will you- Silver stop!”

A moment of divine providence, the elevator was waiting. A kind couple, clearly on a date, held the doors for him and Silver slipped inside with a bright smile and a sweet note of thanks. He pressed himself against the back wall and took a slow breath.

“Sir? Elevator?” the couple asked, still holding the door.

Silver lifted his head to see Flint standing there on the other side of the open door, arms limp at his sides.

His hands were shaking.

“No,” Flint said with a polite smile, “No sorry I realize I forgot my phone, I’ll get the next one, thank you.” He bowed his head and backed away so the doors could close, the couple turning to each other to continue their conversation.

It took a moment for the doors to chime and close, and all the while they waited, Silver was pinned under the fierce, familiar deep sea gaze he’d come to love. He could only hope his own expression was empty, impassive maybe, cold, quiet, anything besides what he was actually feeling. He was a con man for fucks sake he should be able to manage in moments like this.

But Flint looked the way he had the day they said goodbye, without knowing it was going to be goodbye. The day he’d learned that Thomas was alive, and had been all those long years, kept from him just out of reach. Haunted, with a new kind of rage brewing beneath the surface of the sea.

And Silver felt himself beginning the grieving processes all over again as the doors closed and his Captain disappeared from view.

#opening act of spring bs mdau fic #jamie's fic #black sails fic #silverflinthamilton #john silver #james flint #thomas hamilton #jack rackham #sat down and wrote 5k+ of words in one sitting lmao i hope you like it #my eyes hurt and my brain goes brr but im not manic so thats a plus #we'll pick at chapter 2 tomorrow

[instarlightss]

Now that it’s established that Vel is Mon Monthma’s cousin makes it interesting interpretation to suggest that the both use their position as established upper class to mask their true selves and beliefs. Does this new family dynamic suggest that they learned pragmatism at home? I’d like to think so. It opens up so many questions. Were they recruited as a pair? If not, which was recruited first?

In 1.07, Vel dawns cloak worn off the shoulder cloak of what looks to be a suiting fabric, the color a darker shade of Petrol, lined with a light gray color. Both the shirt and wide leg pants are both in black, and as such the palette is very similar to the previous color scheme. Her dress outfit is paired with pants and chunky heeled boots. Although, it is not necessarily a practical pair of boots, like the pair she wears for the Aldhani arc. Being queer, I do personally prefer her in the much more masculine look from Aldhani arc. Underneath the (shared!) poncho and sherpa jacket, her base outfit is practical. Just as it is queer coded as it consists of a tactical gorka, and the base of her boots a pair of Doc Martens. Space Doc Martens. (Really, go look.) All of which gave the initial read that she wasn’t straight, besides the body language with Cinta. 

With all of that said, I think that both of her Coruscant outfits are symbolic of what she is escaping. What Vel is rebelling against, so to speak. 

In 1.09 whilst visiting, Vel again shifts back into this guise. She seemingly breezes in for a visit that surprise Mon Mothma brings gifts, including a fairly mature looking gown for Leida as a present from her “trip”, which excuses the six month absence. It’s an elegant ruse. Realistically, Vel’s privilege  affords her, to some extent, the same luxuries as Mon, as it is also a chance to share news about the Rebellion with Mon Mothma. At least snippets of conversations about it.

gif credit

It’s another outfit with a statement piece of outerwear, silver jewelry, a cigarette cut pair pants and boots. She is seemingly comfortable this way. There is a certain kind of practicalness, the outfits are dressier yet not over the top with fussy layering. The wrapped tunic is a little looser fitting, in a light color tint of gray in an opulent fabric, with muted gold trim and kimono sleeves that are trimmed again with gold. The color palette still muted, while the textiles are a little softer. It looks like Vel’s tunic is shot silk, which is just as opulent as what Mon Mothma has worn. Visually, she fits right into this familial scene. Although we know that the conversation is not entirely pleasant.

There is something to be said about how a number of Chandrullian outfits have have robes and decorative garments with distinctly Asian influences, Tay Kolma’s introductory party outfit, all of Perrin’s garments so far. Even Vel’s sherpa coat on Aldhani has the wrap closure and a wider leather belt with trim that reads as an obi. Perhaps that is an early sort of nod of her heritage back in 1.04?

Between both looks, Vel is fairly consistent.  She has the same set of jewelry in both appearances. The hammered silver metal bangle, larger statement rings, with the hammered collars are masculine in both shape and design. In  silhouette, it’s a draping looser garment with a similar hemlines. 

When ready to depart, her outwear is a bronzed gold color with a high rolled collar with wide lapels, which is a similar neckline that her cousin has worn. Yet, between the two of them it is the more stark color. Framed against the landing area of Mon Mothma’s apartments, the bronzed gold is the bolder of colors and it suits her. Vel clearly held her own against Perrin’s asinine comments about looking for a husband and Mothma looks amused by the exchange.  She knows. Vel is also fully committed to the cause and unlike her cousin, Vel is not afraid to actively participate and to get her hands dirty. Particularly after 1.08, Vel repeats Cinta’s words back to her cousin.  Perhaps it is Vel’s youth or her position of simply being a rich girl seeking to escape her family that has given her the drive to be a more active participant in the rebellion.  It is a juxtaposition to Mon Mothma whose color palette traditionally consist of Champagne colors and the faintest tints of colors. Symbolically, she stayed subdued so that her carefully crafted persona as the Senator from Chandrila take center stage. Unlike Vel, Mothma has to be much more guarded. 

In the dining scene, Mon perhaps one of her most casual outfits of the season. The garment reads within a more modern fashion sensibility and context as a housecoat. In its less structured softer fabrics, less structured and its informality, it’s for lounging and visiting family. It’s a softer garment than her other looks this season which feature structured and highly tailored outfits of layers of wools, against silk. Cohesively the outfits are polished and the style lines of the garments are so precise that they will match from one layer to the other. It give the impression of armor. It is important to note that Mon Mothma departs from the Senate and is only informed of her cousin’s arrival shortly after. She arrives in that armor for battle at the Senate, her ‘temple’, and changed into the housecoat. 

There is something lovely at seeing the pair of them together. The asymmetrical hemline and drape of Vel’s coat, match Mon’s house coat although it is slightly less practical with the train. It seemingly suggests that they are cut from a similar cloth. 

#Star Wars andor #vel sartha #Mon Mothma #costume design #instarlightss post

[the-collector-blog]

some broad mcu theory rambling:

quantum kang caused the creation of the bangles and ten rings. the space stone draws energy "from the cosmos" but it's actually through the quantum realm (or smth). the noor dimension is maybe just an area in the quantum realm, and maybe even the clandestines had slowed aging because they came from a place where time does not pass "normally".

vibranium may contain(?) cosmic energy, and that is why it is a powerful energy source, and why tony's arc reactor was nearly renewable energy (made from the vibranium element howard figured out the structure of). the space stone draws from cosmic energy, which is why the tesseract was seen as a renewable, infinite energy source.

the ten rings were unrecognizable to carol. maybe because kang made them with tech from the 31st century or beyond 🤔 the rings in his tech in the quantumania trailer do look strikingly like the ten rings. maybe quantum energy is why they grant eternal life to their bearer 👀 and... he may have found them in a tomb? like...the one in ms. marvel, where one bangle was found on a kree arm, and which had a huge ten rings symbol on the ground? hm. ten rings granting eternal life, perhaps through their energy, which is perhaps quantum. them being adjacent with the bangle, and thus the noor dimension, and people from it having slowed aging (or none at all). (oh yeah. and carol aging slowly after being blasted w cosmic energy.)

the bangle creating a rift between dimensions/timelines when struck, sending kamala back in time, perhaps by the design of he who remains (according to iman). some striking visual similarities between the [quantumania trailer + deleted ant man and the wasp scene with janet in the quantum realm] and the noor dimension as showed in ms. marvel.

then there's the whole thing with light. monica rambeau being able to transform the photon particles of her body into wave forms (if i understand that right). carol having light powers (shooting "photon blasts") she got from the cosmic energy of the space stone. kamala being from a "light" dimension of sorts and having powers relating to some kind of light (hard light, noor), being able to shape it with the bangle. them all being in the marvels, which will probably deal with different dimensions.

and lastly.. the ten rings sending out a signal/beacon once worn by their intended/true (?) bearer. kamala's bangle receiving some sort of broadcast signal in the post credits scene which kickstarts the marvels. probably related to quantum entanglement if she switches places with carol like that. cassie lang sending a signal to the quantum realm, which janet reacts to with great fear, knowing it will alert some danger and maybe specifically kang. the beacons.. could all be felt by kang, maybe, perhaps? idek. the beacon stuff felt potentially connected.

(hello hi don't come for me if i don't remember every bit of marvel lore correctly, i tried my best. feel free to respectfully add on though, of course)

#mcu #theories #quantum realm #ant man quantumania #ant man and the wasp quantumania #ms marvel #ms. marvel #the marvels #the ten rings #shang chi and the legend of the ten rings #kang the conqueror #scott lang #ant man #kamala khan #marvel shows #mcu theory #carol danvers #monica rambeau #shang chi #xu wenwu #clandestines #the noor dimension #the kang dynasty #avengers the kang dynasty #he who remains #loki series #tesseract #infinity stones #black panther #black panther wakanda forever

[caffeinated-chaos-bean]

Hey guys, I need design suggestions.

I have an idea of what I want for Adelaide, but I'm having a hard time executing it. So far... I got her pants drawn along with two loose bangles on her wrists. My overall idea is sorta like a 70s outfit with a Jojo spin.

Little nod to Fugo with the holes in the sides of the thighs. The string to tighten the waistband ties up higher around the hips, tying in the back, and when pulled tigher it causes the waist of the pants to lower in a 'v' shape, hence the wrinkles seen near the groin area. Bell bottom flare style at the bottom of the pantlegs, with a fold and little securing thingy. When I color them, I'm thinking the pants will have a diamond pattern at the bottom similar to what you see on the back of Giorno's coattails.

For shoes, I know I want platforms. Chucky, 70s platforms. Accessories will come one the main parts of the outfit are drawn, but do expect two loose bangles on each wrist due to her being Dio's waifu.

What I currently struggle with is her top. I know I want something cropped to show her mid-drift. I want to still have the bangles visible, so I'm not sure if I should go with a longer-sleeved crop top or not. I'm legit struggling with what kind of shirt to give her. I'm hitting a wall with this design despite having such a clear idea for it.

If any one wants to send in their crop top suggestions, I'll definitely sketch them to see what looks good with her pants.

#jjba #jojo #jjba oc #jojo oc #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #character design #design process #adelaide #kingston #adelaide kingston

[mysticonsheadcanons]

Mysticons Villain Teamup Episode

Note: This is based on an ask I got as a message where various villains team up to defeat the Mysticons. As it includes Dr. Jarlos and Mallock, who were villains when Sharise was part of the Mysticons, Sharise will be in this as well. Adakite from the novel "Secret of the Fifth Mysticon", as I needed another villain for this, and figured she would work well.

The Mysticons are just coming back from the mall, with Piper asking Arkayna if she can use the hairspray Arkayna just bought. Arkayna agrees, and Piper is almost about to put too much in before Arkayna stops her. Just then, they hear that Lance O'Lovely is attacking the Undercity. They are all surprised, as they thought that they defeated him, and have no idea why he returned. Em says that it doesn't matter, and that the important thing is that Lance is stopped. Sharise guesses that he wants to steal people's voices, but Zarya points out how strange it is that he's just going after random people in the undercity. Before they leave, Piper realizes that she's still holding the hairspray and, not wanting to waste time giving the hairspray back to Arkayna to put it away, thows it in the portal bag she was carrying.

They get to the undercity, and it looks like Lance's attack on the Undercity was just starting, as there wasn't much damage done to nearby buildings, and no one was hurt. This confuses the Mysticons, as the attack should have been well on the way by now. Ignoring the strangeness, they start fighting Lance anyway. At first, it seems like an easy fight. However, as right before Lance was defeated, Adakite, Mallock, Tazma, and Dr. Jarlos attacks the Mysticons. While the Mysticons try to fight back, the surprise ambush quickly overwhelms them.

When the Mysticons wake up, they realize they are in some sort of cell. Arkayna points out how they're somewhere different than where she was trapped earlier, which makes sense. Mallock comes, and Sharise tells him that whatever him and his evil team is planning, it won't work. Mallock laughs, saying that he knows the secret to the Mysticons' success is them working together, so he found people to work with him. Zarya demands to know what he's planning, but Mallock leaves without answering.

The Mysticons try to escape, but they find that the cell's locks sare in is perfectly designed to withstand their powers. Zarya scoffs, saying that it makes sense that people who dislike the Mysticons as much as the villains they fought would plan for this. They realize that there's nothing stopping them from reaching through the bars and sees Piper's portal bag nearby. Sharise says that she saw Piper throw the hairspray in it and Em realizes that they can use it. Zarya uses her bow and arrow to bring the bag closer, and Arkayna uses her power to ignite a little bit of the hairspray Sharise sprayed out to cause a small fire right on the lock, breaking it. The Mysticons use their bracers to put out the fire (similar to what they did in "Happily Never After"), and leave.

They find themselves in the middle of a desert, and only have a vague idea as to which direction Drake City was in, thanks to knowing the only desert near Drake City was north of it.. They try to use their bangle phones to find their way back to Drake City, but they don't have service. As they walk, they come across scoprion-like creatures that attack. The Mysticons fight them off, and Em suggests that everyone checks for scratches or pierce marks, as the scorpions could be venomous. Seeing that none of them were injured, they continue walking.

During the walk, they talk about what happned. Em points out how someone must have freed Adakite, and that whoever it was would have likely had to solve the locks. Zarya points out that Tazma was in the stronghold, so she may overheard the Mysticons talking about it while thinking about old adventures. They also think that Mallock, Lance, and Dr. Jaros were close enough in the dungeon to plan a way out together, though Sharise points out that, from what she's seen of Lance's interviews, he probably wasn't smart enough to do much planning. As they try to figure out what this means, they evenutally find a road leading back to Drake City, and follow it.

They get to the undercity, and notice that it's the same as it was before and realize the attack on the undercity was just a way to get the Mysticons there. Arkayna points out that Dr. Jarlos seemed to be against the Mysticons, and that all of the villains probably wanted the Mysticons gone. The group of villains find them, and a fight ensues. When Piper taunts them about leaving the bag where they can see it, the villains blame each other. There is a fight, and while all the villains are focused on fighting the Mysticons, they are not working as a team. The Mysticons manage to use it to their advantage my using their own teamwork to take the villains down two at a time, until Tazma is the only one left standing. He manages to flee.

Queen Goodfey comes, and arrests the rest of the villains. She hugs the girls, grateful that they're all right. Em winces in pain with the hug, and they realize that they were so worried about the scorpion sting that they didn't notice the sunburn. Em says that she'll be fine, but Arkayna is quiet. As they are about to leave, Zarya pulls Arkayna to the side and reassures her that Em is fine, and that it was just a sunburn. Arkayna says she knows, but admits the fact that she didn't notice an injury one of them sustained, even a minor one, worries her. Zarya asks why, and Arkayna says that it's possible that she misses a serious injury. Zarya tells Arkayna that she'd notice something really bad, but Arkayna doesn't seem assured.

#Mysticons #fan episode #request #villain teamup

[abellaheart-blog]

Okay I'm kinda dumb at these things so I hope I did this right lol.

For your match up could I have

Tarot card, Love fortune and Perfume (Moonlight Stars)

1. Female, she/her

2. Kinda average height, 155cm,

3. Could I get a male match up pls

4. 20s

5. Awww perfect guy would be smart, kinda stoic, but can be soft with their partner, someone who has a good, commanding presence, a person who makes me feel safe, taller than I am, is driven and has goals. I like blondes (lmaoooo) it's just a nice contrast with my dark hair and skin lolol.

6. Roses

7. Kira and the pillarmen lol idk I just didn't feel it

8. I don't mind villians,

9. JJBA vento aureo and Toyko Revengers

Thanks for doing this amazing event and happy birthday once again.

Fortune Teller Match Maker 🔮 Anime Matchups 💘

Don’t worry Bri you did everything correctly, thanks for the happy birthday! ❤️ I decided to do Tokyo Revengers because I wanted to see who I'd pair you with for your matchup. Hope its a welcomed surprise. I also thank you for sending in a matchup.

Tokyo Revengers

Upon making your final decision for Abella's offer you tell her what you desire. She looks excited for your first request, it being one of her most popular readings. She goes to her table cleaning it off in a matter of seconds. A small pink cloud surrounds it and her belongings on the table disappeared. She has you sit on the stack of square shaped cushions while she is seated on an orange stool.

“You wish for a tarot card reading? How romantic this will be! I’ll get my deck out!” Abella waves her hand filled with rings. Her bangles jingle as her hand swipes across the table revealing a long line of cards.

The tarot cards are pink with white designs. She holds up a hand signaling two fingers for the number of cards she wants you to choose.

“I need you to pick two cards.”

You do as she says and the other cards disappear and reappear in her hands. She shuffles them but this time her cards are glowing pink. The painted hearts underneath her eyes are also glowing. She points a pink polished finger and the cards surround the both of you. They float in the air effortlessly in a slow vortex.

“For true romance to be I’ll need to know who your true love is. Pick one card but be sure to pick the one that calls to you. Be true to your beloved by following your heart.”

The cards fly to the table lining up neatly in front of you. You do as Abella says and follow your heart. You hover your hand over several cards until you get a warm feeling deep in your heart. You choose a card and it begins glowing. The other cards return to Abella’s side in a small stack.

“You did so well. Now let’s set your cards down on the table.”

One card is glowing pink while the other two look normal. Abella hovers her hand over the glowing card, closing her eyes. The hearts underneath her eyes glow again, but this time a huge rose shaped magic marking surrounds you two on the ground. You look around as both of your long locks of dark hair float gently off your shoulders.

"I'll start by revealing your true love."

Your brown eyes follow Abella's to the card. It's now glowing white. Abella waves her hand across it, causing it to spin. When she has her hand gently cupped over it, the card stops spinning. Her hand is back at her side and you now see an image of a male in the card. He's blonde with long hair and has a thin braid. Most of his head is shaved and he has a tattoo of a dragon on it, he's wearing small hoop earrings. His eyes are dark and he has a stoic expression.

"I see.. Your true love is a man by the name of Ken Ryuguji, he also goes by Draken."

Abella's eyes are closed, she is focusing. She then opens her eyes with a smile.

"He is smart, strong, protective, is driven, has goals, he is pretty respectful and encourages people to do the right thing. He's also a very caring individual to those he cares for. However he is vice president of a gang, his authority is equal to his leader. Quite a dangerous lifestyle but he's strong enough to handle it.”

Abella looks back over to you noting how surprised you are being paired with an individual in a gang. His occupation surprises you but his personality too. You're happy he is showing attractive qualities in his personality.

"I see he possessives qualities you're attracted to in an individual. He'd be a good partner though he isn't good with expressing his feelings, he's good at showing it through his actions. You and Draken will have a romance that will slowly grow into a very loving relationship.

You take in all her words with a smile forming on your face. So much information is given you in mere minutes. As you're collecting your thoughts Abella flips over another card. It isn't glowing like the last card did but it does reveal a pink image of a king holding a sword while seated on his throne.

"The king of swords, in love this card means that your true love is someone serious about love, plays by the rules, and has a lot to offer you, however they ask for a big return. They need to know you will be there, even if they're absent for much of the relationship. This card also means it could refer to a long distance relationship, communication will be through other means. Rest assured because Draken will continuously visit when he can and he will be sure to contact you."

You're quiet as Abella flips the other card, she knows you're still collecting your thoughts. The next card is a goblet with a large hand holding it, its overfilling with water and a bird is above it.

"Ace of cups narrates a new relationship filled with both excitement and happiness. The type of love you experience with butterflies in your stomach and the desire to spend every waking minute with your new love. I believe this refers to the part of the relationship when you're both apart in the beginning but have no fear your partner will want to hear your voice and contact you often."

The fortune teller looks over to you with a look of joy. She knows the relationship you'd have with Draken would be loving. Your own brown eyes light up.

"Now that I've given you a tarot card reading what else can I help you with?" She says while making her deck of cards disappear.

"A love fortune would be nice too."

"A love fortune? This will be very romantic because I'll be sure to tell you more about the future and relationship if you pursue it."

Abella snaps her fingers and her hot pink crystal ball appears on the center of the table. Her shawl hangs off of her arms as she begins your fortune. The crystal ball starts glowing a light pink. She closes her eyes and the hearts under her long lashes glow too. You notice a pink rose shaped symbol on the ground surrounding you both. Abella opens one glittery eyelid, holding out her hand to you. 

“To get a proper reading of your beloved and your path with them I’ll need to hold your hand, but if it makes you uncomfortable I’ll simply place my hand on top of your own.”

You comply and hold out your hand to her. She closes her eye and focus' again. You felt comforted by her hand because your body felt like it would fall without the contact. Almost as if you'd get hurt letting go of her hand as she does your reading.

“From what my crystal ball is showing me your relationship will gradually build.. it will be filled with happiness but also have its ups and downs. Draken is a busy individual and you must be understanding that you won’t always see him. However once he knows that you’re very understanding you two will become closer and form an emotional bond before you know it. Once this emotional bond is formed you both will find eternal happiness through this sweet yet trusting relationship you both will share.”

You tell Abella your thoughts and she smiles. The fortune teller waves her hand and the crystal ball is no longer glowing. It reverts back to hot pink and the rose symbol on the ground disappears.

"How else may I help you?"

You point out the tiny perfumes lined up against the wall. Abella goes over to her shelf and asks you to pick one. You choose the blue and purple one that glimmers like the moonlight. The lid looks similar to a diamond.

"An excellent perfume! This one is called, moonlight stars."

"What does it do?"

"All it takes is two sprays, anymore won't cause any affects but the smell is strong. This perfume will motivate your true love to spend the day with you, I assure you it leads to romance but you must prove to the individual you would be a good partner."

You blush at the thought but are sure to remember her words. Abella then stood up and gestured you to follow her. She seems to be excited.

"Now that you know the path that lies ahead for your true love, I think now is the time to put it to use. Please use the perfume, I know it will lead to your best future with your darling. However if it doesn't work out don't be disheartened. Love takes time too, good luck."

Understanding her words you're now spraying yourself with the perfume given to you. It smells of violets, with hint of lotus blossom, and a bit like the beach. It brought comfort due to making you have a sense of nostalgia from being around friends after a long day spent at nightfall. There is no other way to explain such a feeling, it waved through your very being as if trying to give you warmth on the inside. It's reflecting off the lights in the room, reminding you of the stars under the moonlight. Abella closes her eyes and the hearts on her face glow a pink, the rose symbol appears around you two and at the center a white portal appears.

"Your true love resides in this portal, hope all goes well." She hugs you before you enter the portal.

You blink and your eyes adjust to the dark city night. Looking around you're in the empty streets. All is calm until you hear a deep voice calling for someone.

"Mikey! Mikey where are you?!" The voice yells in an annoyed tone.

You turn to see Draken down the street from you. Your eyes widen at seeing the real deal. He's tall and wearing his dark gang uniform. You're not sure how to interact with him until you feel someone tug your arm roughly. You turn to see another gang member but his uniform looks nothing like Draken's. You make a nervous expression. He can tell you're frightened but before you say a word, another hand gently pulls you away. It was Draken. He pulls you behind him.

"Leave her alone." He said sternly. "It's obvious she isn't interested."

He is very intimidating, his presence alone made you a bit nervous. You thought back to how Abella described him. You're also thankful he got involved. The other person scoffed and walked away, muttering how it wasn't worth it getting in a fight against the likes of Draken. The tall blonde had a bored expression but he's thankful he didn't have to fight him since he wasn't interested. He knew one kick is all it would've took.

"You should head home. It's dangerous for you to be at this side of town at night." He looks incredibly confused since you're small and beautiful. "Would you like me to walk you home?"

Your dark eyes widen at his offer but you agree. You wonder how this night will end with him or perhaps you might bump into him again. You walk beside him, guiding him.

"Thank you." You then introduce yourself.

"The name is Draken." He nods.

You two get into small talk as you walk. He's calm but also respectful to you. A very clear contrast to how he spoke earlier. His presence still gives you an air of intimidation. You look at his uniform noting the symbol. Since he's part of a gang it makes sense he would need to be intimidating. Draken thought it was nice how you weren't judgmental since its obvious he's in a gang. He can tell you're very grateful to him. A fact he's smiling about.

A group of gang members recognize Draken and decide to take him head on. There is three of them but he doesn't seem affected by their challenge. In fact he welcomes it. You notice he looks excited. You stood in the background watching as he threw them effortlessly. His kicks are so powerful, it's no wonder he knocked them out. You became worried when one of them brought out a weapon and attacked him with the broken metal pipe. You gasped the minute he was hit. You tried figuring out how you could help him. He looks annoyed and begins dodging the next attack with ease. You notice a beer bottle and decide to use it to get it in his opponents eyes.

Thankfully your idea worked and the male is screaming and cussing in pain. Draken punches him across the face leaving a black eye behind. He immediately fell unconscious. The blonde turns to you so he can thank you. You mention how it's the least you can do for him.

Draken is more than thankful because you went out of your way to help him. Now that he is more focused on you he gets a better look at you. Your expression on your tanned features is so soft and you seem worried for his well being. He is looking upon you with a soft expression of his own, admiring your beauty. He smells your perfume and it gives him a sense of comfort and relaxation. He forgets about Mikey and decides to ask you on a date.

You're surprised but agree to it. You felt safe with him. You're secretly thanking Abella in your head. You follow him and notice he is leading you to the beach. There is no way he will hold your hand but he does seem pleased with this result of having you as a date. You smile up at him in return. You have more discussion until you're standing at the center of the beach. It becomes late and Draken realizes he left Mikey back in the city.

"Shit...!" He utters to himself.

"Is something wrong?"

"I forgot my friend back in the city. I need to get back."

"I understand. We both better head back."

You lose your footing forgetting you're standing on sand. Your smaller frame lands on top of Draken who also loses his balance. He falls backwards with you landing on top of him. You get a bit embarrassed and apologize.

"Watch your step next time." He says dramatically.

You say not a word realizing the position you're both in. Your small hands are on his chest, your face is directly in front of his. His dark eyes are looking into your own. His eyes widen since he's faced with your beautiful features illuminated by the moonlight. It almost looks as though you're wearing highlighter on your natural blush. Your cheek bones are accentuated, drawing his attention to your eyes. Your eyes reflect the starry night, causing him to become stunned by your beauty. Soon you both lean in. As you're both doing so he places his hand on your small back. He loves how your tanned hands slide to his shoulders. The kiss felt so sudden but natural as well. You begin blushing. When you separate he is smiling at you.

"I want to see you again. Tomorrow can you meet me here again? It will be during the day this time. I want to spend the whole day with you."

You immediately agree, expressing how you look forward to it. He walks you back to a safe area in the city. He bids you a farewell with a kiss to your forehead. He tore a piece of paper from his pocket and hands it to you. It's his number. You touch your forehead remembering how his hand felt in your dark hair.

You decide to head back to Abella to thank her. Her tent should be in the same location. When you arrive it seems to be relaxing, no customers so far. It's late so it's understandable. Thankfully Abella is still open.

"Nice to see you again! How did it go?" She welcomes you in, having you seated on the square shaped cushions again.

You tell her how you ended up on a date with Draken and were promised another date with him. Abella's eyes widen with delight.

"Such wonderful news. I knew it was meant to be! You know I sense his desire to protect you and how his appreciation for you is equal to your own for him. Do remember my words about the relationship and how he wants someone understanding. To be able to form a relationship with Draken means to give all communication and care. Something tells me you understand a bit based on the date you had."

You agree with her and explain how nice it was spending time with Draken. Abella is overjoyed for you. She stood up to grab an item from the back of her tent. She is headed toward a planter. She picks a flower and holds it up for you. It's a single coral colored rose.

"This rose is a present for you, friend. Always remember true love is a path of understanding and trust. Draken will prove to be a very caring partner. I wish you the best in the trials of your love."

You grab the rose and thank her again for everything. She hugs you before you leave her tent. Abella smiles fondly knowing the meaning behind the rose given to you. How it means desire but also enthusiasm. She gifted it to you due to the enthusiasm for the new relationship and happiness it will bring you. The desire is the love you and Draken deeply long for.

#dividers not mine #anime matchup #tokyo revengers matchup #abella fortune teller event #abella fortune teller takeover #matchups #tokyo rev fluff

[robertnelson2-blog]

Hawaiian Shirts 101: Your Key to Effortless Summer Style and Beyond

Aloha, fashion enthusiasts! With the summer sun shining brightly and the waves calling out to us, it’s time to embrace the laid-back, tropical vibe with a fashion staple that never goes out of style – Hawaiian shirts! Whether you’re gearing up for a beach vacation or want to infuse your everyday wardrobe with some island charm, this Hawaiian Shirts 101 guide is here to help you master the art of effortless summer style and beyond. Plus size hawaiian shirt womens

Embracing the Hawaiian Shirt Vibe

Unleashing the Island Spirit

When you slip into a Hawaiian shirt, you’re not just putting on another piece of clothing; you’re immersing yourself in the island spirit. I remember the first time I wore a Hawaiian shirt during a trip to Hawaii – it felt like an instant transformation. The vibrant colors and playful patterns exuded a carefree and relaxed vibe that I couldn’t help but embrace. It’s not just about wearing a shirt; it’s about embracing a lifestyle – the aloha spirit!

The Perfect Blend of Comfort and Style

One thing I love about Hawaiian shirts is their versatility. You can dress them up or down, and they always strike the perfect balance between comfort and style. When the sun is scorching, and the humidity is high, these breathable and lightweight shirts become your ultimate saviors, keeping you cool and fashionable even in the hottest weather.

Making a Statement with Patterns and Colors

Go Bold or Go Home

Hawaiian shirts are all about boldness – from the vivid colors to the striking patterns. Don’t shy away from going big and bold! Whether it’s a vibrant floral print or a whimsical design featuring pineapples or surfboards, the key is to embrace the joyful and playful vibe that these shirts bring to your wardrobe.

Finding Your Signature Print

Everyone has a favorite Hawaiian shirt print that speaks to their soul. For me, it’s a vintage-inspired design with classic hibiscus flowers and palm trees. Discovering your signature print is like finding a sartorial soulmate – it feels like it was made just for you. So, take your time exploring various patterns until you find the one that resonates with your unique style.

Effortless Styling Tips

Keep It Simple

The beauty of Hawaiian shirts lies in their simplicity. When styling these statement pieces, remember that less is often more. Pair your bold shirt with solid-colored bottoms, such as denim shorts, khaki pants, or a classic A-line skirt. Let the shirt take center stage while creating a balanced and cohesive look.

Dress Up or Down with Ease

One of the greatest advantages of Hawaiian shirts is their incredible versatility. They effortlessly transition from beachwear to streetwear. For a casual day out, throw on your favorite flip-flops and a straw hat. To elevate your look for a summer soirée, opt for wedges or espadrilles and accessorize with a statement necklace or a stack of bangles.

Caring for Your Hawaiian Shirts

Gentle Washing for Long-Lasting Prints

To keep those vibrant prints looking fresh and fabulous, it’s essential to care for your Hawaiian shirts properly. Whenever I return from a beach vacation, the first thing I do is give my beloved shirts some TLC. I turn them inside out and wash them with cold water to preserve the colors and prevent shrinking. Be sure to avoid using bleach, as it can damage the fabric and cause fading.

Embrace Air Drying

After a gentle wash, I air dry my Hawaiian shirts to ensure they retain their shape and colors. There’s something so satisfying about watching them sway on the clothesline, and it’s an eco-friendly option too! Avoid using the dryer, as the heat can be harsh on the fabric and may lead to shrinkage.

Store with Love

When the summer season comes to an end, I carefully store my beloved Hawaiian shirts until their next adventure. I find a cool, dry place away from direct sunlight, where they can rest until the next time, they’re ready to shine.

Rocking Hawaiian Shirts Beyond Summer

Embrace All Seasons

Who said Hawaiian shirts are only for summer? I love incorporating them into my year-round wardrobe! During fall and winter, I layer them with cozy cardigans or jackets for a playful twist on cold-weather fashion. The unexpected pop of tropical prints brings a smile to my face, no matter the season.

Expressing Your Unique Style

What I adore most about Hawaiian shirts is how they allow you to express your individuality. Don’t be afraid to experiment with different styles and patterns. Mix and match with your favorite accessories and create outfits that truly speak to who you are – it’s the ultimate expression of effortless style and personal flair. Slim fit hawaiian shirt

In conclusion, Hawaiian shirts are more than just clothing; they’re a way of life! Embrace the laid-back island spirit, have fun with bold patterns, and style these versatile shirts with ease. Remember to care for your Hawaiian shirts, and they’ll reward you with long-lasting prints and endless style opportunities.

[imolelalade]

some random power info stuff and naijapunk scenerio/fanfic idea I randomly came up with

(A/N: All mentions of HB/Hobie refer to Nifemi’s variant of Hobie on her earth, Earth 1960, not ASTV Hobie. This still counts as an oc x canon to an extent, so if you don’t like, don't read) 

Alright here we go, 

In addition to the basic spiderpowers like wall crawling, webs and spidersense, Nifemi also has this bioluminesence thing that happens when she feels strong emotions. Like her freckles kind of glow and she has this aura thing.

So basically she’s like a human LED light or nightligt of some sort

(On as side note, GUYS DID YOU KNOW SPIDERS ACTUALLY HAVE BIOLUMINESCENE< IT’S SO FREAKING COOL)

The glowing kind of brightens and dims depending on the severity of the emotion

The colors also vary depending on the emotion:

Yellow- Happy

Blue- Sad

Red- Angry/ Annoyed

Pink- Love/Flustered

Whitish- Neutral

This power doesn’t per say, have a specific use in combat, except maybe throwing off suspicions about her identity to a certain extent, ‘cause everyone knows Anansi as a glowy superhero so who’s going to even suspect that drab Nifemi is the same person (see, I’m a genius)

 But in reality  I added it mostly to have the most effect on her civilian life.

As I said earlier in her intro, Nifemi already has problems opening up to people, whether it be in friendships or any sort of relationships. But just because she can’t physically open up to people doesn’t mean that her body can’t give her away in certain aspects.

When she developed this particular power, Bolatito being the queen and tech whiz that she is made her this Light Control Bracelet thing (Imma call it LCB for short), that put a sort of dampner on this power.  

It looks like a metal cuff bracelet and it just goes with the rest of her other bangles and stuff, 'cause she already wears a good amount of those to hide her spinnerets [organic webbing and such]

(I'll draw a pic later)

She wears it in public so she doesn’t turn into a human nightlight at every slight provocation and like expose her secret identity and what not.

Downside to the bracelet is that Nifemi can only wear it in like 5 hour spans and needs alike a 15-20 minute break in between so she doesn’t “burn up” per say. Basically like a cooling down process.

She wears it mostly at uni, at hangouts and anywhere in public

She doesn’t wear it while she’s out as Anansi or when she’s alone in apartment, or only with Bolatio, ‘cause, only wears it when it’s necessary.

In addition to this power turning her into a lightbulb, the aura she gives of also literally “burns” her calories, so this girl has a CrAzy metabolism

(Fun Fact: This is based of my own crazy metabolism)

So she’s basically a slightly less intense version of Barry Allen.

And as a result:

Ms Girl. Cannot. Get. Drunk.

Earning her the role of designated caretaker at all bar and club related hangouts

Meanwhile Bolatito (16) and Hobie (18) are drinking buddies

Constantly going out and dragging Nifemi (18) and Miles (17) along most times, mostly Nifemi though, ‘cause Miles some how finds a way get out of such matters and also, to me, he just doesn’t seem like the bar-type hangout person.

Nifemi on the other hand, literally has no choice.

If Bolatito is like “Get up we’re going out” Nifemi is like, “Ughh, fine”

Plus, if Hobie is going to be there, who is this love-struck idiot to refuse such and opportunity.

Anyways,

Bolatito gets loud and stupid when she’s drunk

Screaming, babbling mess. Flirting with Miles at every moment (even more so than usual). Laughing one second then crying the next. Bi-polar little thing [mid weight]

HB however get’s like mellow and quiet when he’s drunk [heavy weight]

Quiet groaning, not saying much, slurring his words, clingy mess.

Also no mental filter on this man when he’s this state

Like, he’s saying the first thing that comes to mind, no thinking

So,

This man will flirt with Nifemi when he’s drunk making her so flustered

BUT HE WON’T REMEMEBER WHAT HE DID WHEN HE’S SOBER!!!

Okay, back to Nifemi’s power and it’s “effects”

Before Hobie found out that Nifemi was Anansi, she always wore the LCB around him, even on one on one hangouts

B/c if she didn’t she’ll turn into a glowing pink lightbulb everytime this man talked because as I mentioned in my ‘Timeline of Love 1960’ post, his voice.

However,

There was one time that she didn’t wear the bracelet

(Luckily HB didn’t remember the full incident but-)

Basically:

- This was before she and HB officially got together

- They were both in that awkward friend phase, with Nifemi being to emotionally constipated to confess and HB liking her and unknowingly making this girl flustered

- While Techflower (Bolatito and Miles) is on the sidelines, eating popcorn and watching this trainwreck

- So Nifemi, Hobie, and Bolatio had gone to this Nigerian pub/club thing to just, hang out

- More accurately, Nifemi had been dragged out by the other two to go socialize in society

- At the club, HB and Bolatio being the buds that they are of course get stupid drunk

- While Nifemi, b/c of her light power thing, cannot get even mildly intoxicated (poor baby)

- So before HB and Bolatito do something that they would regret for the rest of their lives, she decides to be a good friend/sister and get them back home safely

- She also has to get home ‘cause before this she had been wearing the LCB already so she was like 45 minutes away from 'burn up time’

- She also makes the decision that it’ll be smarter to take both of them back to her apartment instead of dropping HB back at his place, so it’ll be easier to keep an eye on them and deal with their hangovers in the morning

(A…tiny mistake on her part)

- So she bundles up the two mess, pays the bill and gets them out of there

She has that spider strength, so it’s like no problem wrangling them back to her place

- By the time they get back to her apartment, Nifemi has like 15 minutes left on her bracelet timer, so she removes it, keeps it on its special dish next to her uni ID and decides to take care of the two idiots (lovingly)

- She carries Bolatito, who is passed out, to her room, tucks her in and then goes back for Hobie

- HB at first glance also seems knocked out cold, so Nifemi’s like,

‘Alright, this’ll be easy’

- And just picks him up as well

- Keep in mind that Nifemi’s like 5’6, 5’7, no noticeable muscle, probably would get winded climbing up the stairs if not for her powers

- And Hobie’s like a 6’3 lanky but at the same time heavy man

- So I guess he’s not like used to the feeling of being carried, so the movement kind of like jostles him awake

“You’re pretty strong luv”

- AARGHH, his accent, one of my baby’s only weaknesses

- So in Nifemi her classic Nifemi fashion, is like:

“Oh really, um-okay, I-I uh d-didn’t notice, that’s uh something-” 

- stammering, pathetic mess (oh I love her so much)

- HB just snickers at her response, closes his eyes again and presses himself closer into her, mummering slightly:

“You’re cute when ya all flustered”

Nifemi.exe is shutting down

- Nifemi is done. Finished. Over with. KO-ed

- This man don knock this girl speechless

- And her body gives her away by, you guessed it, glowing

- She was now cosplaying a glowing pink nightlight on it’s highest setting

- She, of course, panics

- Drops HB, who is once again passed out, in the guestroom and hightails it out of there

- Timeskip to the next day, HB can’t remember anything that happened in the midst of his hangover

- Except

- Some glowing pink light that his brain subconsciously links to Nifemi

- And he now has the urge to call Nifemi ‘nightlight’, which he does consistently

“Hey nightlight”

“Wha..”

And that concludes the end of my delusions, if you're still here thanks for reading.

Here’s my favourite pretty picture of Hobie:

#just had a random idea of them a while ago #felt like posting it #their ship name is naijapunk #Nifemi is a living nightlight and Hobie unknowingly uses it against her #lalatalks #Nifemi #Hobie #hobie x oc #oc x canon #naijapunk #spidersona #drabbles #fluff #this is so cringe actually dying #ocs #variant hobie

[caramariafilm]

THE HANDS OF MEN - HoD Role for Film Workshop

Production Designer

Director - Paula Sosa Martin

Producer - Abbie George

Writer - Hayley Exton

Production Design Prep

I was asked to help out on a few films for Film Workshop, and after reading THoM script, this was by far the one I was most interested in. The film tells the story of a husband who - as a result of cheating on his wife - grows a grotesque, paper-maché hand and has to tell his wife the truth. I thought this storyline was really intriguing and the idea of being able to create this large, sickly hand was unlike anything I’d been able to do on this course before.

I was also in charge of sourcing the props for this film as well as the costume, I have broken these down below.

First, here’s the mood board I was sent by Paula to understand the feeling of the film.

And here is the prop list I created after reading the last draft of the script.

The Props

For most of the props, I was luckily able to source through friends and family as I wanted most of the budget to go towards the creation of the hand. The only items I had to purchase were; large red gift box, bangle (wedding ring), fake cleaver/knife, and the white rug.

The Costume

Again, for the costume I didn’t want to put much of the budget towards it was not the primary focus of the film. The only important difference was the husbands use of bland colours - white, black, grey,and navy - and the wife’s contrast of colour - using primary colours.

I contacted the actors, asking about sizing and also giving them a list of clothing to ask if they already owned any - also created a mood board for the female character as there were no specific items needed. Luckily, they both did, meaning I wouldn’t have to worry about finding clothes in correct sizing. All I had to source was the grey smart jacket, blue tie, as well as a back up option for the female character - which I was able to borrow.

The Hand

The big part!

For the preparation of the hand, the group had an original meet up with myself, Cat (Art Dept) and Max (DOP). In this session, the 5 of us trialed out different ways of creating the hand - through paper maché, clay, wire and tape, etc.

After this meet up, I started to do more research into how to construct a hand that would actually be wearable, as a lot of the prototypes weren’t functional and would cause later issues when it came to filming.

I watched a few YouTube videos and also looked at Pinterest for tutorials and found some really useful information on creating witch-like fingers, which I then realised I could attach onto rubber gloves and build from there.

I will go more into the actual design processes individually in later posts!!

#THE HANDS OF MEN

[zilvercraft]

Shine Bright with Pure Silver Indian Jewellery Online

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In conclusion, pure silver Indian jewellery is a timeless and beautiful choice for any occasion. Its cultural significance, versatility, and elegance make it a staple in the Indian wardrobe. With the convenience of online shopping, exploring and adding to your silver jewellery collection has never been easier. Remember to choose trusted sellers and authentic products when shopping online. Explore the world of pure silver Indian jewellery and find the perfect pieces to shine bright. We hope this blog post has inspired you to embrace the beauty and allure of pure silver Indian jewellery online. Feel free to share your favorite silver jewellery pieces or ask any questions you may have. Source: https://zilvercraftsilverjewellryonline.blogspot.com/2023/10/shine-bright-with-pure-silver-indian.html