#God I love him

[damnyoucully]

What a great article. He is just so lovely.

How Sebastian Stan Survived Communism and Became Hollywood’s Most Daring Shape-Shifter

So you need somebody who can play the Winter Soldier, Trump, and Tommy Lee? We’ve got the guy.

Sebastian Stan, who can currently be seen in Marvel’s Thunderbolts*, photographed in February in Palmdale, California. Jacket by Prada; vintage T-shirt from Stock Vintage.PHOTOGRAPH BY NORMAN JEAN ROY, STYLED BY EDWARD BOWLEG III.

The sun is going down fast, and Sebastian Stan is trying to get inside a locked Romanian church. This windblown Monday in late February would have been his late father’s 70th birthday, and before the day is gone, he is determined to light a candle and say a prayer in the old man’s memory at a place that had meaning for them both. Stan was born and raised in Romania, where faith and superstition became rooted together for him. “Whenever I’m in a church, I have to go like this three times,” he says, making the sign of the cross with his right hand. “I have to do it. And I have to do it three times before I get on a plane.”

Just before we arrived at this Southern California church in pursuit of the sacred, Stan was indulging the profane. Is there another way to describe an encounter with a remote-controlled talking penis? The actor is based in New York, so when he visits LA, as he’s doing now to attend the Academy Awards, he has a full to-do list. Today, that includes a visit to the makeup studio Autonomous FX, which won an Emmy for transforming Stan and Lily James into Tommy Lee and Pamela Anderson for the Hulu series Pam & Tommy. The whole day is a microcosm of what has established Stan as one of the more daring and endearing actors working today. He thinks deeply but has a wild side too.

We’ll get back to the robo-penis later.

Jacket by Dior Men; belt by Artemas Quibble; vintage T-shirt from Stock Vintage; vintage pants from Front General Store.PHOTOGRAPH BY NORMAN JEAN ROY, STYLED BY EDWARD BOWLEG III.

It’s getting late, and Stan has to hurry through rush-hour traffic to get right with God for his father’s birthday. The Biserica Ortodoxă Română Sfânta Treime (or Holy Trinity Romanian Orthodox Church) that he wants to visit to light the tribute to his father is meaningful to the Romanian immigrants who founded it, but it’s no soaring cathedral. It’s tiny, a single-story white stucco structure with a squat steeple that’s hidden behind much taller trees. Across the street is the headquarters of the Bilt-Well Roofing company, which is a comparatively much bigger operation.

Stan left Romania more than three decades ago, but it’s still a core part of him. So is the uncertainty of growing up in a place where the government dominated and demoralized its own citizens—which makes him especially attuned to authoritarianism in his adopted country of the United States. His old accent is gone, of course. Few who have seen him onscreen as the Winter Soldier in a decade and a half of Marvel movies—including the upcoming outcast team-up adventure Thunderbolts*—could find a trace of it. Stan’s character of Bucky Barnes is as all-American as his closest friend, Captain America. The character was a Brooklyn native, but Stan took on a neighboring Queens inflection for another famous (or infamous) performance, playing young Donald Trump in the scathing true-life drama The Apprentice. The role earned him both a best-actor Oscar nomination this year and the enduring rage of a vengeful, unchecked president.

Suit by Emporio Armani; shirt by Giorgio Armani; necklace and watch by Cartier. PHOTOGRAPH BY NORMAN JEAN ROY, STYLED BY EDWARD BOWLEG III.

New faces and new voices were exactly what drew Stan to acting in high school. He moved to the US in the 1990s, and—as an immigrant kid still struggling to adapt to the language and culture—it was a lot more fun to be Bum Number Two in a production of Little Shop of Horrors than it was to be himself. “I just remember how fun it was to try to change everything,” he says. Being onstage turned a shy kid into a scene-stealing extrovert—and he was good at it. His mother sent him to summer theater camp not far from their new home just outside New York City, and by the end of high school, he was being cast as the lead in Cyrano de Bergerac. He was a good-looking kid, but he still loved hiding his face beneath Cyrano’s oversized nose. “You’re dressing up, you’re putting on fake beards, you’re walking differently, you’re changing,” he tells me. “You take big swings. You take bigger swings than you do when you’re a young actor coming to LA to go on pilot season auditions and they try to cast you as yourself—and you’re only allowed to play yourself.”

“SEBASTIAN HAS ALWAYS BEEN REALLY FEARLESS,” SAYS CHRIS EVANS. “YOU CAN SEE THAT IN HIS CHOICES. HE TAKES BIG SWINGS.”

Stan prefers to push himself to the background. He is not an oversharer. He’ll talk about characters or stunts or the meaning he sees in a particular movie or TV show, but while fans know every detail about the lives of other performers they adore, Stan has built a following while keeping the specifics of his own life somewhat obscure. The pilgrimage to light a candle for his dad is something he would ordinarily have done by himself. But Stan agreed to share something of himself for this story, in defiance of the actorly part of his personality that wishes when you looked at him, you’d see someone else.

He pulls on the handle of Holy Trinity’s main doorway. It doesn’t budge. “Doesn’t look very open,” he says. He’s not ready to give up. He walks around the church’s property and finds an older man sweeping up outside the congregation’s neighboring all-purpose hall.

Stan opens his arms and addresses him with a traditional Romanian greeting of respect: “Sărut mâna…”

I kiss your hand.

Coat by Miu Miu; belt by Artemas Quibble; necklace and watch by Cartier; vintage pants by Carhartt from Front General Store.PHOTOGRAPH BY NORMAN JEAN ROY, STYLED BY EDWARD BOWLEG III.

A week later, Stan is wearing a Prada tuxedo. It’s the night of the Academy Awards at the Vanity Fair Oscar Party, and instead of trying to win over a skeptical church janitor, he’s trying to reassure his fellow actors and filmmakers that he is just fine, despite losing best actor to Adrien Brody earlier in the evening. (The VF Oscar Party is off-the-record, but Stan gave us permission to set the scene.) Most well-wishers now come to him with condolences, but he didn’t expect to win, and in some ways he may have avoided a bigger headache.

Trump has made political retribution a hallmark of his new term in the White House, and he was enraged by the sheer fact of The Apprentice’s existence. The movie, written by veteran journalist and Vanity Fair special correspondent Gabriel Sherman, depicts Trump in the 1970s as a needy wannabe mogul, eager to escape the shadow of his powerful father and being taught by Roy Cohn (Jeremy Strong) that underhanded tactics are a shortcut to success. When the movie was released last October, a month before the election, the once and future president unloaded on it via Truth Social, calling it “a cheap, defamatory, and politically disgusting hatchet job,” and adding: “So sad that HUMAN SCUM, like the people involved in this hopefully unsuccessful enterprise, are allowed to say and do whatever they want.”

It’s unlikely that Trump had actually seen the movie at that point, but Stan has little doubt that he’s watched it since. “I would put money down he’s seen it 100 fucking times, of course, because he’s a narcissist,” Stan told me the previous week. “And I bet you there’s certain things he likes about it.” Such as? “How he looked,” Stan replies with a smile.

Pants by Brunello Cucinelli; vintage T-shirt and boots from Stock Vintage. PHOTOGRAPH BY NORMAN JEAN ROY, STYLED BY EDWARD BOWLEG III.

He is too modest to say it directly, but he’s more handsome than Trump ever was, even with the prosthetic makeup that thickened the actor’s neck and dental devices called plumpers that pooched out his lips and jowls. Autonomous FX did those makeup effects too, allowing him to look more like the disco-era version of Trump. Capturing him physically, while also surfacing the scared and desperate young man beneath that exterior, is what earned Stan his Oscar nomination. “He loses his humanity. I guess that’s essentially what happens,” Stan said of the movie. “As an actor, all you’re trying to do is just look at these very human things and identify with them.”

That doesn’t mean he wants Trump to put him at the top of his enemies list. Before the Academy Awards, Stan said he was trying not to worry about potential retribution and didn’t think it would happen, unless…“I don’t know, maybe if I win the Oscar, which is like 0.0000 percent.”

“HE’S WILLING TO PLAY UNLIKABLE CHARACTERS,” SAYS JESSICA CHASTAIN. “HE’S NOT HAPPY TO JUST BE A CONVENTIONAL MOVIE STAR.”

So yes, he’s feeling fine at the party. He took with him other honors from the backslapping season, like when Jane Fonda name-dropped him while accepting a lifetime achievement award at the Screen Actors Guild Awards. “While you may hate the behavior of your character, you have to understand and empathize with the traumatized person you’re playing. Thinking of Sebastian Stan in The Apprentice,” she said.

Stan said her shout-out was “maybe better than winning an Oscar.” “I wasn’t at the SAG Awards,” he continued. “I wasn’t nominated. I didn’t go. But somebody told me to turn on the TV because Jane Fonda mentioned my name. I would never have thought in my life that she would know who I am.”

Jacket by Prada; vintage T-shirt and boots from Stock Vintage; pants by Prada; belt by Artemas Quibble; necklace and watch by Cartier. PHOTOGRAPH BY NORMAN JEAN ROY, STYLED BY EDWARD BOWLEG III.

Then there was the actual trophy he won, a Golden Globe for best actor in a musical or comedy, bestowed on him not for The Apprentice but for A Different Man, in which he plays a man with a disfiguring genetic condition who undergoes a radical medical procedure to look more “normal.” The back-to-back recognition caught the attention of Hollywood’s power brokers, including Marvel Studios president Kevin Feige, who has been working with him for nearly 15 years now. “To see him winning a Golden Globe for one movie and then being nominated for an Academy Award for another movie in the same year is pretty darn impressive,” Feige says.

The Golden Globe win stirred unexpected emotions in Stan. “You never really think that you’re going to be up there,” he’s told me. “I realized from that Golden Globe moment that when it happens, it’s massive. You can’t help but reflect on everything and everyone that contributed to you getting there.”

One of them is Annabelle Wallis, Stan’s partner of several years. The couple had kept their relationship private before the Globes, when she accompanied him and got an “I love you” callout from him on the stage. Wallis joined Stan at the Oscars as well, wearing a forget-me-not blue Grecian-style gown, and he introduces her happily to me at the Oscar party. (She has heard all about our adventure trying to get into the Romanian church.) Wallis is an actor herself, best known for The Tudors and Peaky Blinders, but their relationship is not something either of them discusses. “I feel like it’s really difficult nowadays to be able to have any privacy whatsoever,” he said. “It’s the one part of my life that I try to keep somewhat for myself, even though it sort of ends up being out there.”

Stan gets that protective streak from another person who helped him get where he is—his mother, Georgeta Orlovschi, who also accompanied him to the Oscars. She raised him for many years as a single mom after she split from his father when Stan was young. “They were both very strong individuals with very strong personalities,” he says. “Neither wanted to be justified by the other. I think they both had a rebellious spirit.”

Hat by Nick Fouquet; necklace by Cartier.PHOTOGRAPH BY NORMAN JEAN ROY, STYLED BY EDWARD BOWLEG III.

His father later disappeared completely, going into exile in the States. Constantin Stan was a cargo-ship worker who helped fellow countrymen evade government persecution that pervaded Romania in the decades after World War II. “He was a bit of a hero in my town,” Stan says. “My parents were part of the youth that were standing up to Communism. My father was helping people escape the country illegally, to the point where he was a wanted man. And he himself had to flee.”

Stan grew up not really knowing the man everyone else knew by the nickname “Tino,” apart from occasional telephone calls. But if his dad could vanish, it seemed plausible that his mother might too. Then one day she did.

Stan was about eight years old when his mother fled Romania to set up a new life for them abroad. Throughout his childhood, government mismanagement and corruption had led to food scarcity, fuel shortages, and electricity blackouts. The eventual revolution culminated in the downfall and execution of dictator Nicolae Ceaușescu in 1989. “I watched him get shot on television,” Stan says. “I remember that.”

The aftermath wasn’t necessarily better. “It was chaos,” Stan says, noting “how many orphaned kids were in Bucharest after the revolution because everybody didn’t have money. Nobody knew how to live. They’d been so suppressed.” He spent a year with his grandparents before joining his mother in Austria. “She came and got me when she finally had a job and established herself enough there in Vienna,” he says.

Sweater by Loro Piana; pants by Schott NYC; necklace and watch by Cartier; vintage tank top from Stock Vintage.PHOTOGRAPH BY NORMAN JEAN ROY, STYLED BY EDWARD BOWLEG III.

The anxiety he felt about losing her continued even after they were reunited. “She was working. She was playing piano at night when she could, and then she was teaching piano all day long. So at 9 or 10 years old, I was taking the trolley to school myself. I was taking the subway back myself,” Stan recalls. “Then I was coming home and I was alone, and I would have to make myself food and I’d do my homework and I’d wait for her to come home. That was a lot of alone time for a kid in a foreign country.”

He learned independence, but it scarred him too. “I remember waiting for her to get home and worrying: What if she doesn’t come home? I can see how that’s worked against me in certain ways and how it’s totally benefited me in other ways. You have a lot of time with your imagination when you’re a kid like that alone. So I feel I’m very good at using my imagination to believe certain things, which helps me in a way. But then there are times where I’m feeling a degree of uncertainty and lack of control over my life that can be paralyzing.”

“MY PARENTS WERE PART OF THE YOUTH STANDING UP TO COMMUNISM,” HE SAYS OF HIS ROMANIAN CHILDHOOD. “MY FATHER WAS HELPING PEOPLE ESCAPE THE COUNTRY ILLEGALLY—TO THE POINT HE HIMSELF HAD TO FLEE.”

Stan was around 12 when his mother began dating a man named Anthony Fruhauf, who was the headmaster of a small private high school in central New York. When they got married, Stan’s mother made plans to move with her son once again, this time to the United States. “He was really kind. My stepdad was a real influence in a good way,” Stan says. “In those early years in America, speaking English with him at home I think probably led to how I lost my accent.” He was all right seeing it go. He wanted to belong.

All this surfaced when Stan was onstage accepting his Golden Globe. “This is for my mom who left Romania in search of a better life, and for my stepfather, Tony, who took on a single mom and a grown-up kid,” he said, hoisting his award as his voice broke. Pointing heavenward, he added: “Thank you for being a real man.”

Coat by Bottega Veneta; belt by Artemas Quibble; necklace and watch by Cartier; vintage T-shirt from Stock Vintage; vintage pants from Front General Store. PHOTOGRAPH BY NORMAN JEAN ROY, STYLED BY EDWARD BOWLEG III.

Despite craving stability, Stan learned the value of taking chances, which has earned him a daredevil reputation among his actor friends. “Sebastian has always been really fearless,” says Chris Evans, who first appeared opposite Stan in 2011’s Captain America: The First Avenger and costarred with him repeatedly as the Marvel Cinematic Universe expanded. “You can see that in his choices. He takes big swings. When that Trump movie was kicking around, I remember thinking, I wonder who is going to take this job? It’s just got so many strings attached to it. And I was so unsurprised when I heard it was Sebastian.”

The devil on Stan’s shoulder urging him forward was Jessica Chastain, who became a close friend after they worked together on 2015’s The Martian and later the 2022 spy thriller The 355. “When we were on set for The 355, that’s when he first told me he had had the offer to play Donald Trump. A thing about Sebastian that people might not realize is he’s very, very thoughtful, almost to a point where he overthinks things. It could cause a little bit of stress. He was like, ‘Well, what do you think? What would you do?’ I said, ‘Do it.’ I was like, ‘What do you have to lose? Take a risk.’ As long as it doesn’t cause you physical danger, if something scares you—do it.”

Chastain saw Stan do that very thing in 2017’s I, Tonya, in which he played Tonya Harding’s then husband, who hatched the scheme to sabotage her rival, Nancy Kerrigan. “When so many people are trying to make you this conventional movie star, it’s a risk to do something that isn’t that,” Chastain says. “He’s willing to play unlikable characters. I find that executives have trouble with characters that may be complex and have dark sides to them. He really embraces that. He’s not happy to just be a conventional movie star.”

Coat by Loewe. PHOTOGRAPH BY NORMAN JEAN ROY, STYLED BY EDWARD BOWLEG III.

Marvel Studios was looking for a dark side when they were casting the role of Bucky Barnes in the first Captain America movie in 2010. Stan was a relative unknown, though he’d had a recurring role on Gossip Girl as a pathological liar of a rich kid. “You could see that he has so much inside him and so much behind his eyes. I’ll never forget that,” Feige says. “I said to Stephen Broussard, who was one of the producers on Captain America, ‘He’s going to be a good Bucky, but he’s going to be a great Winter Soldier.’ ”

Bucky evolves into that villainous alter ego in subsequent MCU stories, going from fearless soldier to shell-shocked prisoner of war and, eventually, mind-controlled assassin who struggles to break his programming and redeem himself. Getting the part was beyond game-changing for the actor. “I was actually struggling with work,” Stan says. “I had just gotten off the phone with my business manager, who told me I was saved by $65,000 that came in residuals from Hot Tub Time Machine.” He’d played the smarmy bully in that comedy a year before. Now it was his salvation.

Since then, the Winter Soldier has become one of the most beloved and relatable characters in the MCU, even though his story is far from the traditional everyman narrative. Bucky resonates because he’s damaged goods—the patron saint of fuckups struggling to do right. The arc culminates in his new lead role in Thunderbolts*, with Bucky leading a team of former troublemakers and outcasts. Feige says that, without Stan, the character’s strange journey wouldn’t have been the emotional gut punch it is.

After lunch, Stan goes to his appointment at Autonomous FX. The headquarters is tucked near an ice warehouse and a scrapyard in an industrial neighborhood of Van Nuys. Stan is trying on a pair of fake teeth that slip over his perfect pearly whites. The goal is to give him a more regular-guy look for Fjord, the movie he’s shooting in Norway with filmmaker Cristian Mungiu, a fellow native of Romania.

There’s a story behind these teeth—dating back to before Stan got braces as an adult. “When I got Invisalign, I was so obsessed with them,” he says. “The more you wear them, the faster they work. So I actually wore them at the fucking Captain America: The Winter Soldier premiere. I have them in and I’m smiling with them and people can tell. I was self-conscious because my teeth were always a little….” He splays his fingers into crooked angles.

The prosthetic teeth are modeled on Stan’s own before he fixed them. Stan has another blast from his past waiting for him too. After the fitting, Jason Collins, the founder and lead creative force behind Autonomous FX, takes Stan through the workshops, where sculptors are making limbs, bodies, and demonic babies. On the shelves, busts of other actors like Christian Bale and Annette Bening, used for previous projects, stare down with vacant eyes.

Collins and his company essentially provide the level-up version of the fake beards and noses that Stan first loved about acting in high school—except occasionally X-rated. As part of this nostalgia trip, Collins brings out a plastic tub with the remains of the robotic erection from Pam & Tommy. The latex has dried out and decayed away. This penis “character” was voiced by Jason Mantzoukas and had strong opinions about the Mötley Crüe drummer’s romance with the Baywatch star. It was a risky creative choice by the showrunners but added levity to the series and was inspired by Lee’s own autobiography, in which he banters philosophically with his sex organ.

The makeup team and the actor forged a bond along the way. “It really becomes a partnership,” Collins says. “We stare at him for weeks and months at a time. So we know the physical structure. We know what the span of his legs is and all that other stuff.”

“You get to know the actor very well,” says Stan. Their earliest meeting involved figuring out how to fit a prosthetic over his actual privates and snake cables for the controls down his backside. “When I first came here, they made a replica to work on. So they had to cast this,” Stan says, gesturing to his crotch. “I remember you’re like, ’All right buddy, well, I guess it’s good to meet you.’”

Jacket by Bottega Veneta; vintage T-shirt and boots from Stock Vintage; belt by Artemas Quibble; necklace and watch by Cartier. PHOTOGRAPH BY NORMAN JEAN ROY, STYLED BY EDWARD BOWLEG III.

After the makeup shop, Stan heads for the last stop of the day, the Orthodox church. After a persuasive conversation in Romanian, the custodian agrees to unlock the chapel for him. “Vezi ca pana,” Stan says. You’ll see it’s only for a moment.

As the doors swing open, the faces of saints stare down at us from rows of miniature shrines, not unlike the busts of the famous actors in the prosthetics lab. Both places represent things Stan believes in—the ability to transform into something new and a yearning to connect with something beyond yourself.

Stan doesn’t claim to be especially religious, but the Holy Trinity chapel takes him back to that fearful time living under Communist dictatorship, when he put his faith in higher powers and prayed for the best. “We would go to church a lot when I was little,” he says. “It’s still tied into certain things for me, because I felt such a degree of powerlessness over decisions being made early on.”

STAN IS NOT AN OVERSHARER. BUT HE AGREED TO SHARE SOMETHING OF HIMSELF HERE, IN DEFIANCE OF THE ACTORLY PART OF HIM THAT WISHES WHEN YOU LOOKED AT HIM, YOU’D SEE SOMEONE ELSE.

Stan and the man he wants to commemorate with a candle were estranged for years. He and his father finally reconnected when Stan was around 18 and began visiting Los Angeles for auditions. The New York kid would save money by staying with his father, who had settled in the San Fernando Valley (not far from the makeup shop, actually) and worked, once again, in shipping. The periodic visits brought them closer, and the relationship stayed tight until his dad died unexpectedly from COVID on a trip back to Romania in 2021.

Stan sometimes thinks his father’s story might make a good movie. In Romania, Tino was legendary for sneaking contraband Western goods like blue jeans and bananas into the country while smuggling dissidents out aboard the same vessels. “He worked hard and he loved America and he believed in being free,” Stan says. “I have always made the argument that immigrants to some extent are more patriotic than even the people that are born here because they don’t take things for granted. At least that’s what I saw in my father.”

The janitor guides us to the back of the church, where there’s a small side room with a votive stand arrayed with unlit candles.

“Can you give me one second? I’ll be right back,” Stan says.

He disappears into the shadowy alcove and strikes a light.

Later, driving away from the chapel, Stan tries to explain why he felt so compelled to go there. “I think it’s just the acknowledgment of how fragile we all are. Sometimes you go somewhere where it’s really not about you. It’s a moment to let go. Turn off for a while,” he says. “You don’t have to be anything in there. You don’t have to think any which way.”

Jacket by Balenciaga; belt by Artemas Quibble; vintage T-shirt from Stock Vintage; vintage pants by Carhartt from Front General Store. Throughout: hair products by Rōz; grooming products by Tom Ford Beauty.PHOTOGRAPH BY NORMAN JEAN ROY, STYLED BY EDWARD BOWLEG III.

He says something similar via text two weeks later, when he’s in Norway, starting work on his new role in Fjord—with his new teeth that resemble his old teeth.

“The feeling is always the same. Like it’s the first time,” Stan writes. “It’s always a mix of fear and hope. It’s losing yourself. It’s a free fall. Every time.”

[bubbarnes]

no context needed

[purrgatoriess]

ookie pookie wookie bear

[frnkiebby]

i’m fucking dying dead and long gone~🎃

[azterseviltwin]

Aster’s wips! Will I ever finish these????

shushes you seductively

[shatinn]

Love and deepspace - chains

'You're the only one who'd dare to tug on this chain, but what are you going to do next?' - Sylus

[compulsiveglassmuncher]

I love ace attorney. U start off with a Normal Guy and then it turns out he’s got a savior complex and a bitchy inner monologue. Also he’s absolutely insane it’s so funny to me I love u feenie

this is the face of a glass eatjing homosexual

[kriyorni]

OH OH OH

It is the first

Birthday boy Sylus smut

You have been warned ⚠️ : Submissive Sylus, pegging, sex 😈😈,little little choking, messy, Don't read if you believe that Sylus is a dom daddy.

It's in the MC's POV again. Sorry. Not sorry.

"April 18th."

"What?"

"My Birthday. Didn't you want to know?"

"O-oh yeah. But I didn't expect you to tell something so top secret to somebody so casually."

"You're not just somebody now are you?"

"Fair point."

"Well I have told you when it is, is there a surprise you have planned for me?"

"Uh... That you will get to know on your birthday boss man, there are still a few days to go until the 18th."

"I am looking forward to it."

He is looking forward to it.

Sylus is looking forward to the birthday surprise I planned for him.

Poor Sylus. If only he knew I haven't planned jack shit.

In my defense, I just got to know his actual birthday date, otherwise I was only following up on rumours as to when the notorious Onychinus leader could possibly be born, with everyone just knowing it's in spring, and Luke and Kieran just knowing it's in April.

Thinking about it now I could have always just asked him. Alright. My fault.

However luck was on my side as I landed upon the moments post from Tolan Wildlife park just a few hours outside of Linkon, all the animals post reminded me a lot of Sylus, so I figured: Hey! Why not spend the day here? I didn't it give it a second thought before booking tickets for the both of us and renting a van for the day, even preparing him a Lil S badge in which his chibi version is smiling, and an invitation card in a paw shape, telling him to be ready at 7:00 AM.

We spent the entire day animal watching, feeding capybaras, boating and enjoying quality time underneath the sugar maple trees after being offered free maple syrup coffee because of the birthday boy, Sylus was given numerous 'blessings' from people, animals, it was cute to watch.

At the end of all this I gave him the cake I had made for him along with the card I wrote, singing happy birthday to him and hoping, this moment of peace stays for longer and our bond remains stronger than ever.

"This was my first Birthday celebration. Thank you so much sweetie."

"It won't be the last. I plan to be there celebrate until atleast your 90th birthday." I say while looking up at him, he is practically smiling through his eyes which makes my heart flutter, The Sylus I see is much softer from the Sylus from before. And cuter ,even if he insists otherwise.

"Till my 90? Sweetie, surely you can promise me more than that." He pouts, flicking me on the forehead.

"I said atleast you idiot." I say, pinching his cheek as revenge.

Laughing and giggling, we enter the base. Satisfied with the birthday date and belly full with food and cake (I would never let lil S go hungry), we lazily sit down on his sofa, giving lovely gazes to each other in the comfortable silence, our smiles everpresent.

I break first from the staring contest to look at the clock.

"It's 9 PM, is there anything else you want to do? Sweetie?"

He stiffens up in response to my question and suddenly starts to look everywhere except my eyes, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. Contemplating.

Ah. So he does want something.

I can practically read him like an open book at this point. I go closer to him and sit on his lap, patting his chest softly before cupping his cheek so that he looks at me.

"Well? What is it? Tell me Sylus."

"I do want something from you, it's uhm..."

I am trying my best to let him overcome his hesitation but there's one thing about me. And it definitely is that I am so fucking impatient. So I grab him by the chin and squeeze it ,making his lips jut out a bit. 

"Tell me. Whatever you want. I will do it for you."

He lets out a deep sigh and kisses my forehead, only to push me aside and stand up from the sofa to walk towards his room. Fuck. Did I get make him mad somehow? But I literally said I would do anything he wanted.

Pushing the bad thoughts aside I also walk up to his room.

"Hey Sylus are you- Woah."

I am met with the delicious sight of his bare back, although I have seen it numerous times, the back muscles and that tiny slutty waist of his never fails to amaze me.

Hearing me come in he just turns his head to look at me. Doe eyes barely hiding the panic in them. And that doesn't sit right with me.

So I contain the desire to climb him like a fucking tree and approach him, slowly hugging him from behind.

"If you aren't ready to do whatever this thing is.... even if it's your wish you don't have to do it."

"Fuck sweetie I am ready and I do want to do it with you. So badly. I have wanted to for so long. I don't know how you will perceive me after I tell you my wish." He says finally all in one whisper, his hands finding their way to hold my hands that we were on his chest.

"Oh please. Try me. There is nothing, absolutely nothing you could say that will make me see you in a bad light."

I try my best to persuade him. It's his fucking birthday, he deserves to have everything he ever wants and here he is feeling all hot and bothered to just ASK me. He let go of my hands takes a deep breath, then goes to pull something from his drawer. He keeps rummaging through it for a while and before my impatient ass could chime in again, he takes out something thick and long.

Holy fuck.

Oh. My. God.

A Strap on.

A RED DILDO FUCKING STRAPPED. AND LUBE.

"I want to be pegged."

I barely take my eyes off the strap to look at Sylus, who is staring at me nervously, but then I can't help but look back at it again.

Their is a brief silence in the room, I am sorry I am left speechless ok?

Sylus breaks it first.

"You know what let's pretend you never saw this or heard anything I said ok I seriously don't -"

"OH MY GOD SYLUS!"

I don't even hear what he said and jump on him , he effortlessly grabs me by the hips and steadies himself.

"Say it again. What is your wish?"

His breathing quickens, pupils dilating as he looks at me.

"I want you to peg me."

Satisfied I kiss him square on the lips.

"Do you know for how long I have wanted you to say that?" I say giving a soft peck to his lips, unable to resist.

"Do you know how much, I have fantasized about you being under ME for once?" Another peck. Sylus gets more flustered by the second as he takes sharp breaths.

"I..... I thought I told you, to share all your kinks and bedroom fantasies with me. "

"I didn't want you think I am a freak. Besides all our 'sessions' leave me on cloud nine."

That gets a chuckle out of him and he responds with a 'me too.'

Without wasting a second one any more conversations I leap out of his embrace, hitting the floor again as I take the strap from him.

"By the time I come back, I want you stripped of all your clothes and sat on the bed, like a pretty boy, understood?" I say, hooking a finger under his chin, already in the role. His swallows a thick lump before nodding.

"Yes ma'am."

It doesn't take me long to come with the strap on attached on my waist. The dildo proudly standing in all its glory.

"That was quick, I guess you are more eager than I am." I spot Sylus, ever the tease on the centre of the bed, naked legs spread just a little in anticipation and his proud dick also standing rock hard in all its glory.

I slowly climb the bed and get a hold of his feet, dragging him down closer to me. I can hear him audibly flinch at the sudden manhandling (not really) and shy away from my gaze.

"Not you talking about eager. I just told you to lie down and you are hard already." I say grazing the head of his cock with my finger tip, his body convulses and little whine comes out of his mouth and I swear he has never looked cuter. My heart is about to burst at how adorable he is.

"H-hurry up and p-put it in hmph-" I kiss the tip earning a soft gasp from him.

"Chill sweetheart what's the rush? Have you ever done this before?"

"I have... experimented by mys-sELf.... A little.." 

Poor baby keeps trembling underneath me as I leave open mouth kisses from jawline, sharply biting on his collarbone to which he squeals. Damn. I didn't even know he could make such a noise.

Losing all my sanity like how sand leaves one's fingertips I keep kissing him lower, watching, how his blushes from to the tip of his ear till his chest. I take a nipple in my mouth and roll the other in my fingertips, low grunts and moans to be heard below me. I then give the same treatment to the other nipple. 

Sylus, my sylus, he is so perfect, taking everything I give him like an obedient pup, I wish to worship every part of his body, show him just how much love he deserves, it's probably more than anything I could ever him in this lifetime, I would lay my heart out bare for him if he asked but right now,

Right now all I can do is cherish his body and the trust he has in me with every fibre of my being.

I chuckle lightly as I kiss him lower and reach his stomach.

"W-what's so funny?" He asks me breathlessly as he props himself up with the support of his elbows.

"Nothing. I am just so happy, happy that the beast feels safe enough with me to show his vulnerable belly. So that I get to rub it."

I say as I softly rub his tummy, watch him as he literally melts at the gesture, panting heavily from the earlier kissing and biting. I lean down to his face.

"I am the only one who gets to rub it, right?"

"Yes! Y-you're the only one. Can you stop teasing me now please please please sweetie I need you."

"Oh right! Sorry."

Deciding that he was riled up enough, the precum dripping from his cock a clear indication, I start to lube up the strap, giving him a show as he spreads his legs even more for me to fit in between them.

"It would be best to wrap your legs around me cutie." He does as told and puts his hands on either side, grabbing the bedsheet tightly.

"Ready?" I ask to which he just nods eagerly. I give him a little kiss on the cheek before entering his hole.

"Haah! A-ah!! S-s ughh..." He moans loudly at the sudden intrusion while I keep peppering kisses on him, telling him it's ok.

I thrust in slowly after he calms down , soon the pain turns into pleasure for him as he demands me to keep going and faster. So bossy even in this position, but I will let it slide since it's his birthday, I would considered putting a gag on him otherwise.

I thrust deeper and harder and when he lets out a loud groan. Eyes rolling back.

Looks like I have hit the prostate.

I always imagined what Sylus would look like with his brains blown out, but the real thing's even better.

My hands move with a mind of their own to clasp around his neck and squeeze lightly, his eyes go wide and then he whimpers, telling me to not stop, I gratefully oblige.

I keep thrusting in his hole and continue hitting his prostate until he starts panting like a dog, and his voice grows higher in pitch. Completely lost in the sounds he keeps making, I grab his dick and stroke it up and down in a fast pace, lightly flicking just to hear more of his sweet little moans, and he gives me exactly what I want.

"Cum-cumming!" He says, barely able to form words.

"Cum for me baby you're doing so good." I say unable to stop my own heavy breathing as I bite his neck, hard enough for it to bleed as he grabs the bedsheet tight enough for it to rip, and then shoots ropes of cum till it reaches his neck.

We are both left a panting mess as I collapse on his cum coated chest barely caring about the mess.

"Tired?" He asks while being dizzy himself.

"Yeah. Pounding your ass suprisingly took more effort than necessary. I am spent."

"Obviously hard work was to be expected. afteer all, it's my ass."

We both giggle at that.

As Sylus was about to get up to clean us up, I stop him.

"I will do the cleaning, you rest and bath in my love." He just smiles at me softly, his fucked out face adorable as ever.

He just hums in response probably too tired to form words, but that's enough for me as I turn around to get the shower running.

"Oh and one more thing."

"Yeah?"

"Happy Birthday, Sylus."

I love him. Sylus :(

Thought I would post on the birthday but procrastinated.

[lillyorlyracat]

MORE RAPHIES!!!

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

Vincent Price as Frederick Loren //

House on Haunted Hill (1959) dir. William Castle

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

chicken scratches ☆

synopsis : katsuki tries to surprise you...but he's taking too damn long !!

an. merry christmas(if you celebrate) n happy holidays yall !! i love my boyfriend as usual,,btw have yall seen that new hori art ??? dreamy sigh my man so stupid..

cw. itty bitty manga spoilers, but otherwise nun !!

when katsuki manages to hold a pencil again and write with his right hand, it looks absolutely horrendous.

switching from writing with their left hand then back to the right one would've been disorienting for most, and it probably was for him, but he didn't show it much aside from the occasional grumble and scoff at his trembling grip. nothing ever holds him back after all.

you sigh "can i—"

"no. don't look yet." katsuki has his back turned to you, sending you a sharp glare. hunched over his little piece of paper like how he'd hide his page from kaminari's peeking eyes during an exam, always so dramatic. he turns around with a huff and you snort with a roll of your eyes.

you had come over to his room after he’d told you to, mumbling out a quick “come over.” over the phone and hanging up before you could say a word.

and so here you were. waiting.

“katsukiiiiiiii—”

“shut up,” your boyfriend grunts, his scribbling sounds harsher, in a bit more of a rush. “so damn impatient..”

“but i wanna see what you wrote !” you kick your legs up in the air, pouting at his back sitting in his office chair. “i’ve been waiting for decades to see you write with that arm again.”

katsuki scoffs out a snarky laugh “yeah, well how do you think i feel ?” you groan, whining at his dark joke, he laughs again. “just stay put. ‘m..almost done.” he trails off, focusing back on his surprisingly long task.

you do know that despite being able to use his arm again, it had gone slow—surely, but really slowly. then again, he originally wouldn’t have been able to use that arm at all, so you’ll honestly take anything.

but the excitement is getting to you, and you really wanna see what he wrote ! so slowly, surely, you quietly try to sneak the short distance to his desk to peek behind his shoulder. however, your boyfriend has some crazy spider senses.

he sighs “if i turn around and you’re not sittin’ your ass on the bed i’ll—HEY !”

busted. katsuki catches you mid creep, so close to seeing his paper until he swiftly turns in his chair. he reaches out with his left hand, reflexively, and grabs a hold of your arm.

“you can’t ever just—do what you’re fuckin’ told ! knew you were being too damn quiet ! ” he complains between gritted teeth, trying to wrestle you away from him.

“i just—wanna see !” you shriek. when he suddenly remembers he can use his right hand again, and it almost feels nostalgic the way he jams it in your side to tickle you, dropping his pencil in the process. you think you hear it rolling on the floor, but your own noises of surprise overpowered the sound. he’d really gotten better at using that arm again, you could cry if your boyfriend wasn’t actively trying to shove his entire hand inside your ribs and push you away.

during the light scuffle, his hurried movements magically make the paper fly away with a harsh whip of his arm and a gust of wind, you thank every god when you notice it, just a second before he does. you’re half sure the world slowed down as you slide down to the floor and clutch the piece of paper in your grasp like the fate of the world depended on it.

the little piece of paper makes your heart jump, with its crumpled up edges and wonky writing and all.

I love you

both the o’s are too long, his u trails off towards the end and the e looks like he'd written it with the pencil in his mouth. it looks nothing like his usual handwriting.

but it was him, unmistakably, undeniably him and all of him and all of his efforts. all his efforts coming down to this. being able to write i love you and to show you.

your heart does more than jump, it restarts in your chest.

harshly, your flipped over by katsuki. he’s red all the way down to his neck and his eyebrows twitch angrily. but his hands, both his hands are gripping your cheeks hard and pulling at them and you can’t help but laugh.

“little shit. can never jus’ lemme be romantic..” he pouts, pouts like the adorable tryharding asshat he is, and you’re so so happy. your cheeks hurt cus he's tugging at them but his right thumb is digging into your cheek. you can feel the little callous on his middle finger because he holds his pencil with too much pressure on it.

“you’re so adorable.” it tumbles out between a watery laugh before you can stop it, katsuki’s jaw ticks and he gets even redder if that was even possible—he uses his right hand to squish your nose shut mid breath so your ears pop.

“shut it, shut up. ya ruined everything.” ducking down, his teeth make contact with your cheek and your chin knocks against his when you jump with a little scream. "i literally just finished. was just about to hand it to you, but noooo—everythin' has to go your way.." he angrily mumbles into your neck.

you press a kiss to his nape and he stiffens "i'm sorry for ruining your perfect surprise." he scoffs, biting at your shoulder. "i'm really happy though, it was unfortunately very worth it."

"you're a fuckin' fiend." he spits out, and you really can't help but laugh "love you too." you snort out, and his hands, both of them squeeze your sides hard, your cheeks hurt and you can't help but laugh.

[sacko-lacko]

I feel like I needed to see this at such a time.

What tf did I just draw

[controld3vil]

IF YOU CARE

pairing(s): lensless!invincible x reader

synopsis: In this version, where Mark only ever saw you as a comrade, you were spared the worst. You escaped the fate that awaited you in every other reality.

notes -> dare i say he's my fav variant.... reader has hellfire powers (backstory inspired by raven from teen titans) cw: slight angst, canon typical violence

The Invincible War erupted, and everything shattered. Entire cities fell, crumbling under the weight of unrelenting destruction. Thousands of lives are snuffed out with every passing hour. The world seemed to spin out of control, and every known superhero and villain on Earth rushed to its defense. But why? Why Earth? Why this planet? Day by day, the world weakened, a hollow shell as the Invincible doppelgangers tore through everything in their path, leaving nothing but ruin in their wake.

Not even the GDA could stand in their way, and they couldn’t reach you until hours after cities like Chicago and New York had been obliterated. 

Cecil, the head of the GDA, was the first to contact you as you sat in the quiet of your living room, watching the television blare with the devastating news. Headlines flashed – each more grim than the last. The damage was escalating by the minute, and with every rescue team sent to save the lives of the innocent, more lives were lost. The world felt like it was coming apart at the seams. 

“You seeing this?!” Cecil’s voice crackled through the phone, sharp and frantic, sending an uncomfortable twist through your gut. You’d never heard him like this before – not once, not since… Since everything fell apart. You grabbed the remote, silencing the TV as the sound of chaos from the broadcast still hung in the air. Your eyes shifted to the window, watching the dark sky stretch over the city, a subtle sense of dread creeping up your spine.

“These fucking Invincible variants are everywhere,” Cecil snapped, his irritation thick with something darker, something bordering panic. 

“Where do you need me?” It wasn’t concern that pushed the words from your mouth, nor worry about yourself. It was the promise you had made to the GDA months ago, after Omni-Man’s destruction of Earth. Cecil had worn you down, tried to convince you over and over to join the fight, but you’d always refused. You’d never been interested in joining some cheesy, pretentious superhero team. But now? Now the world was burning. Now, there were no more excuses. No more questions. You didn’t need to ask how you’d deal with it. Cecil will give you the coordinates.

A heavy sigh echoed through the line, exhaustion weighing down on Cecil’s voice. “The Guardian’s headquarters. One variant’s tangled up with them, and I need someone to make sure he doesn’t walk away from this fight.” 

It wasn’t that Cecil didn’t believe in Immortal and the others – they could handle powerful foes, sure. But this wasn’t just any enemy. This was Invincible. The strongest person on Earth, now multiplied. Eighteen versions of him, each with the same terrifying strength. Cecil needed someone who could match that raw power, someone who wasn’t afraid to step in when things were beyond even the Guardian’s reach.

The gravity of it all settled in. You didn’t have to say anything more. 

“You got it.” You didn’t waste a second, immediately dialing your watch to set your coordinates for the Guardian’s headquarters. The familiar ding echoed in your ear, confirming your destination. You paused for a moment, the weight of the situation creeping up on you. 

“How long do you think this will last?” The question slipped from your mouth, though you already knew the answer would be a hollow one. 

“God, I don’t know.” Cecil’s voice was tight, raw with the tension of the situation. “But the numbers don’t lie. We’re looking at a catastrophe, with lives on the line by the second. You need to go – now– before it’s too late. “ 

The finality in his voice made your stomach twist, a cold sense of urgency washing over you. No more hesitation, no more questions. You were already moving. 

In the next breath, the world around you warped and shifted, the familiar comfort of your home replaced by the stark, sterile walls of the Guardian’s headquarters. The air was heavy with tension, filled with the metallic tang of battle and the distant sounds of chaos outside. You’d prepared for this moment, tucked away your emotions, and steeled yourself for the inevitable. But nothing could have prepared you for what you were about to witness. 

As you made your way through the facility, the reality of the destruction that had already been wrought and the carnage still unfolding hit you like a wave. This wasn’t some distant theory anymore. This was real.

As you drew closer to the barricade, the air was thick with the piercing, frantic screams of those caught in the confusion. Hang in there, Immortal. The words resonated in your mind as you steadied yourself, fingers brushing the switch hidden at your waist. Every step brought you closer, but you could feel the weight of what was pressing down on you. You never imagined it would come to this – not in a million years. Never would you have thought you’d be the one forced to end Invincible’s life. He and Cecil had never seen eye to eye – his opposition to the GDA was clear, but you always respected him. Hell, you admired him. He fought for his family, for the ones he loved with a determination that you could claim for yourself.

You didn’t have that kind of bond. Not the way he did. When the GDA took you in, they gave you something to fight for, but not like that. You couldn’t help but wonder how different your life might have been if someone had fought so fiercely for you as he did for them. 

“Man, you guys are great! Has anyone told you that?” The alternate Invincible’s voice was filled with gleeful excitement, completely devoid of remorse for the destruction he was wreaking. It was as if he was savoring every moment of it like he was enjoying playing the lives of others for sport. “I wish I could’ve fought you all in my world!” 

“You monster!” Immortal shouted, his body surging toward the doppelganger, fists flying with explosive force. “You’re nothing but a pale imitation of Invincible!” 

But the variant barely flinched, almost as if Immortal’s rage was beneath him. His eyes glinted with dark amusement, a twisted smile creeping across his face as he weaved through his punches, savoring the power he held over the Guardians. It wasn’t just a battle to him – it was a performance. And he was relishing every brutal second of it. 

It was unnerving how effortlessly this Invincible absorbed the blows. He looked identical to the one you knew – same yellow, black, and blue suit – but the absence of the familiar goggles left the mask slightly askew, offering a glance at his face. That small glimpse, however, was enough to send a chill down your spine. The eyes that stared back weren’t the eyes of a hero. 

“I mean – I don’t need any more motivation to kill you. But sure, insult me.” There was something deeply unsettling in his words and smile, a twisted satisfaction that lingered like poison in the air. He delivers a sucker punch right beneath Immortal, propelling him straight up. 

But he didn’t expect the searing, agonizing heat of fire. Not just any fire – hellfire. It burned through his suit, sharp and relentless, as the flames pricked at his skin. He spun in mid-air, his expression shifting from cocky amusement to genuine surprise as he locked eyes with you. Hovering a few feet above, he sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“Well look who it is!” His grin stretched wider, and you noticed the blood dripping from his mouth, the unsettling detail sending a jolt of tension through your chest. Instinctive fear gripped you, cold and unrelenting. “Nice to see you, babe!”

You hummed, taking slow, deliberate steps toward him. “Hey, how’s it going?” Your voice was a perfect mask of indifference, deadpan and steady, your gaze unwavering. Every fiber in your body was focused on him, eyes locked onto his every movement. You could feel Immortal somewhere nearby, floating in a daze with a shattered jaw. But for now, you’d play along with his twisted game – wait for the right moment to close the distance.  

Invincible’s eyes raked over your figure, utterly unfazed by the absurdity of the situation. It was a chilling thing – how easily he could make this moment feel like something else entirely. “God, you look good!” he smirked. “Say, why don’t we do a little one-on-one, huh? For old time’s sake?” His feet lowered slowly, hovering just above the ground, but not enough for you to act – yet. “Actually, did the me from this world ever get to–” His voice trailed off, curiosity glinting in his eyes, but you felt his confidence faltering just enough for you to know that the game was far from over. 

“No,” You remarked, your tone casual. “We’re not exactly close.” But there was something in his intense stare that unsettled you – something that told you he wasn’t sharing everything, that there was more beneath the surface. “But I’m guessing in your world, that’s not the case.” 

“Sharp as ever,” he commented, a slight admiration in his voice. You could see his defenses lowering, just for a moment – a crack in his composure. You knew you needed to seize that opening. “God, I’ve missed you.” 

You raised an eyebrow, the faintest trace of surprise crossing your face. “Really?” you asked, voice steady, trying to mask any hint of emotion. Knowing how highly sensitive Invincible’s ears were, you fought to keep your cool, burying whatever reaction threatened to surface. 

But it was difficult. The entire situation was absurd, like some twisted dream, a distorted reality you couldn’t fully understand. Because the truth was, you’d never been close to Invincible – not even in the slightest. If anything, you were only acquaintances, by virtue of Cecil’s influence, a fact that had always kept the distance between you two. And that was probably the biggest barrier to any kind of connection – his life, his choices compared to yours were completely separate paths, never intersecting.

You worked for Cecil, and despite all his moral wrongdoings, you empathized with it. He had often justified his actions with the words, the greater good, in that you knew the cost of it would do. And yet, you stayed. You were bound to him, just as your parents had bound you, long before you could even understand the gravity of the pact. You were the result of a deal made in the shadows, your very existence tied to secrecy that shaped your role in this world – the dark passenger, the one who stalked the dead, the agent of the sacrilegious world. Damien Darkblood would’ve been the first to concur that you were always the outsider, never belonging to either side.

Invincible, on the other hand, had lived a life before all this. He’d had the luxury of freedom – to grow, to experience what it meant to be human before the weight of the world fell onto his shoulder. The weight you, on the other hand, were born into. The fabric of your very existence already sealed your fate long before you could even question it. Your paths were never meant to cross, and yet here you were – confronting a man you barely knew, who now stood before you as an echo of the person he used to be. 

“Yeah, it was a shame we didn’t spend much time together,” Invincible said with a tone that straddled the line between genuine and condescension. “You know before I had to kill you.” 

“Huh.” It was all you could muster, a single syllable to mask the disbelief rolling through your mind. Was this really happening? Was this how it was going to play out?

“But,” he continued, his voice softening, the edges of it pulling in something like sorrow or even remnants of a past he wasn’t sure how to navigate anymore. Finally, his feet touched the ground, and he took a slow, purposeful step toward you. His dark brown eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that was all too much to bear – something in that gaze that reminded you of the inferno you had long buried inside. It was raw, it was fierce, and it was just as dangerous as the man standing before you. “Believe me when I say this… I did care about you.” 

A bitter laugh bubbled up in your throat, but you swallowed it down. You raised a brow, your gaze was firm and unwavering as you studied him. Was this some kind of joke? “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Your voice was laced with venom, each word cutting sharper than the last. You couldn’t even begin to understand what he was trying to do – what he was hoping to achieve with these sorrowful words. His confession, if that’s what you could call it, fell flat, if anything, it only stoked the flames of your frustration. 

You looked at him with wicked disdain, your expression indifferent, though behind it, a storm was brewing. His words weren’t enough to make you falter – not even close. The audacity of him to think that now, of all times, he could manipulate you with some half-hearted attempt at remorse was laughable. It didn’t stir anything in you. It only made you sick, as the man standing before you was a hollow version of what he was supposed to be. 

You had no time for his games. Not now. Not after everything. 

With a quick motion, the air around you began to warp, thick with the heat of something far more ancient and menacing than anything in the room. The flames that burned inside you, that had always burned inside you, began to flare to life. Heat prickled against your skin, and your fists clenched as a surge of power thrummed through your veins. 

Hellfire. 

It erupted from your palms into a burst of molten energy, crackling with an intensity that could melt stone. Invincible’s eyes widened as he barely managed to block the first wave of fire. The flames scorched his skin, blackening his suit, but he did not back down, Instead, he grinned – a wide, maddening smile that only angered your temper further.

“Impressive,” he said, his voice tinged with admiration. But it was also laced with mockery too. “You think that’ll stop me?”

You didn’t respond. 

With a roar, you threw another wave of hellfire at him, more intense this. The green flames surged toward him like a tidal wave, hot enough to sear through everything in its path. He dove sideways, just narrowly escaping the inferno as it roared past him, setting the ground ablaze where he had been standing. 

You summoned more, your body surging with an overwhelming heat and anger. It radiated off you in pulses, making the air itself shimmer. Invincible hesitated for a split second, and that was all you needed.

[loosethreadsofyoursoul]

one thing about shawn spencer is he’s going to square up for the underdog. the lawyer in cloudy with a chance of murder. the bank robber in gus walks into a bank. lying ryan in truer lies. even lassiter in lassie did a bad bad thing. he will take one look at a pathetic little man and say “is anyone going to stand in front of him and protect him from evil and prove he is telling the truth despite the odds being against him?” and then not wait for an answer. you go girl, you project those self esteem issues like the king that you are 😔✊

[theanxiousbookdevourer]

I don't know, Lt. Kim Kitsuragi. I have no idea what we're doing.

[fuckoffwade]

"Say that again, bub?"

Muscle anatomy is my downfall! I have to relearn everything all over again if I want to draw my baby boy.