#anyway go watch first alien film

[chadrycki]

yees trans representation 🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️ I'm a patriot I love my country

[flygonscales]

I’ve just watched Hellraiser and it was so cool you know? I’ve already added Pinhead to my mental list of ‘people who are I think are cool and who I think I’d have a crush on if I wasn’t ace (it’s like I subconsciously identify them as people to have a crush on but my brain never gets any further except a vague sense of cool-ness but its different to the normal way of thinking a person is cool)’.

After this I’ve definitely identified what horror films I like - more sci fi or fantasy films with lots and lots of practical effects, fake blood and just lots of gunge. There’s a reason why I watched The Thing and it went straight up to one of my favourite films ever, and Hellraiser looks set to follow. I really want to watch The Fly, because if I’m not mistaken that’ll give me plenty of fun practical effects and alien slime.

[fceriestcrdst]

my autistic ass avoided watching the x-files because i knew it would consume me....

& now here i am fully consumed even though I've only watched the first few handful of episodes of s1 (i'm regaining spoons needed for media consumption), but let me tell you w h a t!!!!!!!!!!!!! i was so excited i started crying because it combines unbridled pining, a skeptic & her believer husband partner, true crime, weird mythology, aliens (which i already knew abt obvi), unlikely besties who are prepared to square up at all times (re; scully being cold towards the agents mocking mulder & mulder being ready to fight g o d whenever anything happens to scully).

i just love the show a lot & i expected this but goddamn!!!!!! it's wormed into my spin category & now my alien spin is returning along with my 'unexplained happenings spin!!!!! i'm being consumed i tell you!!!!

[angelremnants]

Heat Waves l J. B. Barnes

PART TWO.⠀LATE JUNE NIGHTS

summary : After years of manipulation by Hydra, Bucky Barnes must find his place in a world that has long moved on without him. With you, an independent and unwavering agent by his side, he reluctantly embarks on a transformative journey of recovery in Wakanda. Amid the kingdom's vibrant culture, your connection to Bucky deepens as he confronts personal demons and embrace the healing process. Bucky learns to welcome the warmth of new beginnings, understanding that even after winter's cold grip, the sun can shine through. Inspired by Heat Waves by Glass Animals.

pairing : James ''Bucky'' Barnes x f!reader

warnings : Mature (16+), slow burn, eventual romance, pure fluff, mentions of past trauma, themes of healing, banter, teasing, mild language. Proceed with caution if you're sensitive to such material.

word count : 13.4k

author's notes : So, I lied. I said this next part was going to be the continuation AND ending of this fic.. Long story short, I went overboard (again) and wrote way much more than I had initially planned (I decided last minute to incorporate sexy time for the last part because I'm feral). Anyway, I highly recommend reading the first part beforehand, as it provides essential context for the following scenes.

Writing about Wakanda makes me miss my home country—listening to All the Stars (one of my fav' songs, btw) especially makes me miss all of the amazing summers I spent there, so I took a bit of inspo from them while writing some parts of the story.

I'd also like to adress an immense thank you to @stilleobjection for helping me get set on major components of the story. Live, laugh, love my moots<3

(ao3 version)

The sparring matches had ended on a high note, leaving everyone in good spirits. Shuri, still grinning after her mock victory over you, clapped her hands.

“Alright, white boy, Sparky, we’ve got plans for you today,” she announced, exchanging a glance with T’Challa. “Something is cooking back at the palace, so we need you two out of the way while it’s being perfected.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Out of the way? Should we be worried?”

The king chuckled as he clasped Bucky on the shoulder in camaraderie. “Not at all. My sister thought it would be good for you both to explore a bit of Wakanda’s countryside. It’s a chance to unwind after the training session.”

Shuri tilted her head toward a guide waiting nearby. “We’ve got quads—well, Wakandan versions of quads—prepped for you. Trust me, they’re fast, safe, and a lot of fun. And since I don’t trust you two to behave, I’ll be joining.”

“Wait,” Bucky said, narrowing his eyes. “Why do I feel like this is part of some elaborate scheme?”

Shuri gasped, feigning offense. “White boy, I’m shocked you’d accuse me of such treachery. This is purely for your benefit. You should be thanking me.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Alright, let’s do it. But if this is a setup, Shuri, you’re paying for the therapy.”

With that, the three of you followed the guide to an open clearing where two sleek quads—futuristic in design and gleaming in the sunlight—were parked. They looked like something out of a sci-fi film, with smooth, aerodynamic lines and holographic controls.

Shuri, clearly in her element, hopped onto one of the bikes with ease. “Aren’t they beauties? Vibranium-powered of course, eco-friendly, and ridiculously fast.” She patted the handlebars of hers. “You’ll thank me later.”

As she excitedly hopped onto one and began rattling off specs, you noticed Bucky standing back, arms crossed, staring at the vehicle like it was some alien artifact. He crouched down, inspecting the engine with a furrowed brow, his metal fingers tapping lightly on the side as if trying to figure out its secrets.

“It’s not going to break down, old man,” you teased, watching him lean closer.

“I’m just saying,” he replied, gesturing to the sleek design. “Engines like these don’t look like they belong to anything real. Where’s the exhaust system? The carburetor? This thing looks like it’s from outer space.”

Shuri, standing next to her quad, rolled her eyes. “It’s vibranium-powered. No carburetors, no exhaust. Welcome to the 21st century, Grandpa.”

Bucky gave her a flat look. “I like machines I can understand. Motorcycles, for instance. You know, things that don’t look like they’re about to fly off into orbit.”

Shuri smirked, leaning casually against her quad. “Don’t worry, white boy. It’s not as fragile as your Harley. And you might even like it if you give it a chance. Just try not to overthink it, alright?”

You couldn’t help but laugh as Bucky shook his head, muttering something about "vibranium death traps" under his breath.

Finally, he climbed onto his quad, still inspecting the handlebars as if they might suddenly sprout wings. “How’s it feel?” you asked, watching him warily test the controls.

“Like it’s about to insult my mother,” he muttered.

Shuri groaned. “Just start the thing! I promise you’ll survive.”

The ride began with a burst of speed as the quads hummed to life, their engines emitting a low, futuristic whirr that reverberated through the open air. The path wound through Wakanda’s breathtaking countryside, a kaleidoscope of vibrant greenery and golden sunlight that spilled across the landscape. Rolling hills stretched into the horizon, dotted with clusters of wildflowers in colors so vivid they looked almost unreal. Tall trees arched overhead, their bioluminescent leaves shimmering faintly in the soft light, as if breathing with life. Crystal-clear streams meandered alongside the trail, their waters catching the sunlight and scattering it like a thousand diamonds.

The air was crisp and cool, carrying the earthy scent of freshly turned soil mingled with the subtle sweetness of blooming flora. You breathed deeply, letting the scent wash over you as the wind whipped past.

“How’s it feel now?” Shuri called out, her voice cutting through the hum of the engines. She glanced back at Bucky, her tone half-challenging, half-playful.

Bucky, despite his earlier reservations, seemed more at ease now. His broad shoulders were less tense, and a hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Not bad,” he admitted grudgingly, though his tone suggested he wasn’t about to heap praise on the machine just yet. The wind caught his hair, making him look a little less like the stoic soldier and more like someone who might actually be enjoying himself.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the rush of adrenaline making your heart race. “This is incredible! How fast can these go?”

“Fast enough to outrun your doubts, Sparky!” Shuri quipped, her grin evident even from a distance as she twisted the throttle and sped ahead.

The three of you carved your way through the trails, the quads kicking up soft plumes of dirt in their wake. Every so often, you paused to admire the scenery—expansive meadows that seemed to stretch forever, their grasses swaying lazily in the breeze, or ancient-looking rock formations jutting proudly from the earth like guardians of the past.

Shuri acted as a guide, pointing out landmarks with unrestrained enthusiasm. “That hill over there? It’s where some of the first Wakandan warriors trained with vibranium shields. And that tree? It’s older than most of the royal palace!” Her knowledge was infectious, her voice laced with pride and affection for her homeland.

Meanwhile, Bucky couldn’t seem to resist his inner mechanic. Every so often, he’d pull his quad to a halt and hop off, crouching down to inspect its parts like an overprotective grandparent. “These controls are too smooth. It’s like it’s driving itself,” he muttered at one point, tapping a finger against the engine casing.

“That’s because it is smart tech, white boy,” Shuri teased as she rolled up beside him. “Honestly, you’re acting like an old man trying to figure out a smartphone.”

Bucky shot her a withering look, but there was no heat behind it. “I’m just saying, machines like these don’t need to be this complicated. Give me a Harley, and I’ll be fine.”

It wasn’t long before the shenanigans began. Shuri, ever the troublemaker, led the charge.

“Think fast!” she shouted gleefully, swerving sharply to kick up a spray of dirt and grass that splattered across Bucky’s quad.

Bucky coughed, glaring at her as he wiped his face with the sleeve of his jacket. “Seriously?”

“Just keeping you on your toes, Grandpa!” she replied, her laughter ringing out like music.

You decided to join the fun, veering your quad closer to Bucky’s and revving the engine in a sharp burst. He startled slightly, giving you a side-eye glare that quickly softened into something resembling reluctant amusement.

“You too?” he asked, his voice tinged with exasperation. “What is this, ‘Pick on Bucky’ Day?”

“Every day is ‘Pick on Bucky’ Day,” you teasingly shot back with a grin. “You’re just an easy target, old man.”

Not one to back down, Bucky suddenly accelerated, cutting you and Shuri off in one swift motion. “Alright, if that’s how you wanna play,” he said over his shoulder, his voice carrying the smallest hint of a challenge.

What followed was a chaotic race through the trails. The three of you took turns speeding ahead, cutting each other off, and kicking up clouds of dirt. Shuri, ever the daredevil, led you both through a narrow trail with low-hanging branches that forced you to duck and weave to avoid getting smacked in the face.

“You could’ve warned us, Shuri!” you shouted, laughing despite yourself as you narrowly avoided a branch.

“Where’s the fun in that?” she called back, her voice dripping with mischief.

Even Bucky started to loosen up, his posture relaxing as he swerved around a sharp corner with surprising skill. At one point, you caught him grinning—an unguarded, genuine smile that made him look years younger.

Eventually, the path widened, revealing a breathtaking scene. A shimmering lake stretched out before you, its surface reflecting the pastel hues of the early evening sky. Steam rose lazily from parts of the water, hinting at natural hot springs, while rocky cliffs framed the area like an artist’s masterpiece. A few open-air huts dotted the shoreline, their thatched roofs blending harmoniously with the natural surroundings.

Shuri pulled to a stop and hopped off her quad, stretching her arms overhead with a content sigh. “Welcome to paradise!” she announced grandly. “The water here is the perfect remedy for sore muscles—and bruised egos.” She shot a pointed look at Bucky, her grin as wide as ever.

“This is amazing,” you said, your gaze sweeping over the tranquil scene. “Did you plan this, Shuri?”

“Of course I did,” she replied smugly. “You think I’d let you two wander around aimlessly? Now, go ahead and enjoy yourselves.”

The lake was even more breathtaking up close. Crystal-clear water stretched out in a shimmering expanse, its surface rippling gently as steam curled upward from the edges of the natural hot springs. The rocky cliffs surrounding the area glistened with dew, the rock faces streaked with veins of vibrant minerals that reflected the fading light like jewels. Overhead, the sky deepened into a tapestry of purples and gold, scattered with stars beginning to peek through. The air here was warm and heavy with the scent of mineral springs and blooming wildflowers, creating an almost dreamlike atmosphere.

A few open-air huts lined the shore, their thatched roofs blending seamlessly with the landscape. Inside, simple benches and woven baskets hinted at their purpose: a place to change or rest before enjoying the rejuvenating waters.

Shuri was already peeling off her outerwear to reveal a sleek bodysuit underneath, the kind of practical yet stylish attire that only Wakandan design could pull off. “Don’t just stand there gawking. The water’s calling, and I’m answering.” She didn’t wait for a response, striding toward the lake and stepping in without hesitation. “Perfect temperature, as always,” she called over her shoulder.

You watched her for a moment, then shrugged. “Why not?” You weren’t exactly prepared for a swim, but that wasn’t going to stop you. Stripping down to your underwear, you stepped into the water, the warmth spreading over your skin like a comforting embrace.

Bucky, however, stayed firmly on the shore, his arms crossed as he eyed the water warily. “I think I’ll sit this one out,” he muttered.

Shuri, already chest-deep in the water, shot him a look of mock disbelief. “What’s the matter, white boy? Afraid your arm’s gonna rust?”

Bucky raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “It’s titanium. It doesn’t rust.”

“Then you have no excuse!” Shuri countered, splashing water in his direction for good measure. “Come on, don’t be boring. Even Grandpa needs to have fun sometimes.”

You laughed, wading deeper into the water until it lapped at your shoulders. “She’s got a point, you know. What’s the worst that could happen? You’ll have fun?”

Bucky groaned, running a hand through his hair. “You’re not gonna let this go, are you?”

“Nope,” you and Shuri said in unison.

Finally, with a muttered curse under his breath, Bucky relented. He pulled off his jacket and shirt, revealing the solid planes of his chest and the intricate design of his titanium arm, which gleamed even in the dim light. He hesitated for a moment before removing his boots and pants, leaving him in just a pair of black briefs.

You swallowed hard, your gaze flickering over him before quickly looking away, your cheeks heating. Shuri, of course, caught it immediately.

“See something you like, Sparky?” she teased, her grin devilish as she waded closer.

“Shut up,” you mumbled, your attempt at nonchalance failing miserably, though your face betrayed you with its growing warmth.

Shuri wasn’t done, though. She tilted her head, the playful gleam in her eyes making you dread whatever she was about to say next. “Don’t worry about it. I saw him watching you earlier when you were stripping down, too.”

Your head snapped up, your eyes widening. “Shuri!”

“What?” she said with a shrug, her grin widening as she gestured toward Bucky, who was already halfway into the water and thankfully out of earshot. “I’m just saying, you’re not the only one doing some ogling tonight.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Why do you always have to do this?”

“Because it’s fun,” she replied with a wink. “And you’re just so easy to fluster. Besides, I’m practically doing you a favor. Now you know he’s looking.”

You peeked between your fingers, your gaze instinctively darting to Bucky, who was settling into the water. His broad shoulders gleamed under the dim light, and you hated how quickly your eyes lingered.

“You’re the worst,” you muttered, sinking lower into the water to hide your embarrassment.

Shuri’s laughter rang out, light and carefree. “You’re welcome!”

Bucky stepped into the water, his movements cautious at first, but he seemed to relax as the warmth enveloped him. “You two are insufferable,” he muttered, though the faintest hint of a smirk betrayed him.

“It doesn’t stop you from following us,” you shot back, splashing water in his direction.

What started as playful banter quickly devolved into a full-blown splash war. Shuri was the obvious instigator, as always, her cunning grin practically a warning sign as she cupped her hands and sent the first wave of water crashing toward you.

“You’re going down, Sparky!” she declared, her laughter echoing over the surface of the lake.

You retaliated immediately, scooping up water and hurling it back at her, though your aim wasn’t nearly as precise. “Oh, you want a fight? Let’s go, Princess!”

Bucky, who had been trying to stay out of the line of fire, quickly found himself dragged into the chaos. A rogue splash hit him square in the face, and he sputtered, shaking his head like a drenched dog.

“Is this what you call diplomacy?” Bucky grumbled as he shielded himself with his arm.

“Wakandan diplomacy is very hands-on,” Shuri replied, her laughter echoing across the lake.

“Alright, that’s it,” he muttered, his voice low and mock-menacing.

The next second, he sent an impressive arc of water flying in Shuri’s direction, catching her mid-laugh and soaking her from head to toe.

“Hey!” she yelped, wiping water from her eyes. “You’re gonna regret that, white boy!”

From that moment on, all bets were off. Shuri was the obvious victor, her technique unmatched as she sent wave after wave of water at you and Bucky. Her speed and agility made her nearly impossible to hit, and her laughter only seemed to grow louder with each successful attack.

You tried teaming up with Bucky to overpower her, but it was like trying to outsmart a hurricane. “We need a strategy!” you shouted, ducking behind Bucky for cover as Shuri sent another splash your way.

“Strategy?” Bucky replied, his brow furrowing in mock disbelief. “We’re in a lake. The only strategy here is survival!”

Shuri, grinning wickedly, used your moment of distraction to launch her most devastating attack yet—a double-handed splash that drenched you both in a massive wave.

“You call that survival?” she teased, her hands on her hips as she waded back a few steps, looking far too smug.

The water glistened around her like liquid silver, the bioluminescent glow of the surrounding foliage casting soft light on her triumphant form. You and Bucky exchanged a quick glance, a silent agreement passing between you.

“Truce?” you whispered.

“Truce,” he agreed, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

Together, you turned on Shuri, launching a coordinated attack that finally managed to take her by surprise. She shrieked as two simultaneous waves of water hit her, but her laughter was still loud and carefree.

“Alright, alright! I concede!” she said, holding her hands up in surrender, though the grin on her face made it clear she wasn’t entirely serious. “But don’t think I’ll forget this, you two.”

The three of you stood there, panting and laughing, the water rippling gently around you as the tension of the day melted away into the cool embrace of the lake. It was a quiet haven, the cool water lapping gently at your skin, but Shuri’s excitement quickly shattered the calm.

“Alright, I’m bored now. Let’s play Pirate Ship,” she declared, her eyes shining with mischief. She swam toward you both, a playful grin tugging at her lips. “It’s a team game—just like chicken, but with a twist. One person is the pirate ship, and the other two are the crew with one trying to take it down and one giving it directions.”

You raised an eyebrow, curious. “Pirate ship?”

“Yeah,” Shuri said, her voice full of energy. “It’s simple. Bucky, you’re the pirate ship. You’re the one we have to knock off balance.”

Bucky looked at her with a bemused smile. “I’m the pirate ship, huh? Alright, I’m game.”

Shuri turned to you. “And you’ll be the first crew member, perched on his arm like a lookout. I’m the second crew member, and my job is to throw you both off balance—knock you out of the game.”

Before Bucky could protest, Shuri swiftly lifted you from the water, her hands steady as she helped you onto Bucky’s broad, muscled arm. Your legs wrapped instinctively around his arm for balance, and you felt a rush of warmth at how strong and solid he felt beneath you. The water swirled around both of you, the gentle waves adding an extra challenge as you settled into place, hands gripping his shoulders for extra security.

“There we go,” Shuri smirked, positioning herself in front of the two of you. “Try not to fall off, pirate.”

Bucky chuckled, his eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and determination. “I’ll hold my ground. Ready?”

You nodded, gripping Bucky’s shoulder with a steady hand, trying to ignore the flutter of your heart as you realized just how close the two of you were—your body pressed to his in the stillness of the water, your chest lightly brushing against his, and his steady arm holding you firmly in place. You had to concentrate, but your mind kept wandering back to the warmth of his skin beneath your fingers.

Shuri lunged at you first, attempting to knock Bucky off balance. She was quick and agile in the water, and her first attempt sent a shiver of movement through Bucky’s body. But he held strong, his arm steady beneath you, his muscles tightening as he countered her push. You gasped slightly as you leaned into him for support, feeling the strength of his body underneath yours. His hand rested on your knee as he held you in place, his grip firm but gentle, like he was guiding you through a delicate dance.

“Easy there, Buck’,” you teased, your voice barely above a whisper, just for him. “You’re doing great.”

Bucky shot you a playful grin, but there was something deeper in his gaze—a quiet intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “I’ve got this,” he muttered, voice low, as he took a step forward, shifting his weight just enough to keep himself balanced.

Shuri’s second attempt was faster, a blur of motion as she surged forward, trying to get a grip on Bucky’s shoulder. You felt your balance teeter as the water surged around you, but Bucky’s hand shot out just in time, pulling you back into place. His fingers brushed against your skin as he steadied you, the contact sending a jolt of electricity through you.

“You’re not getting us that easily,” Bucky murmured, his voice surprisingly husky as his eyes flickered down to you, searching your face for any sign that he was doing okay. The warmth in his gaze was undeniable, and for a moment, you forgot where you were, lost in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath you, the closeness of your bodies, the way he was so careful with you.

But before you could respond, Shuri lunged at him one more time. This time, her strategy was sharper and more aggressive, and Bucky’s arm gave way under the pressure. You lost your balance as Shuri grabbed hold of his shoulder, throwing both of you off-kilter. The next thing you knew, you were slipping from his arm and tumbling backward into the water with a splash.

The cold water shocked your senses for a moment, but before you could even panic, strong arms encircled you, pulling you back to the surface. You found yourself face-to-face with Bucky, his hands steadying you as he kept you afloat. His blue eyes locked onto yours with a quiet intensity, his breath warm against your skin as you both clung to the moment.

“You good, dove?” he asked, his voice softer than usual, the hint of concern there, though you knew he wasn’t worried about anything other than making sure you were okay.

You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips as your heart raced. “Yeah, just… didn’t expect you to catch me like that,” you said, your voice quieter now, as if the game was suddenly secondary to the warmth of his presence.

Bucky’s hand remained on your waist, a steadying anchor as you floated together, the water around you both barely making a sound. He didn’t pull away, and for a heartbeat, everything else faded—the playful banter, the game, the world itself. It was just you and him, suspended in time, your chest brushing lightly against his as you shared a quiet moment in the lake.

Shuri's teasing voice sliced through the comfortable silence that had settled around you and Bucky, her tone playful and laced with mischief. “Aww, isn’t this romantic,” she called from where she bobbed lazily in the water, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she floated a little too close, clearly enjoying the moment a bit too much. “But we should probably head back. Sunrise isn’t going to wait for you lovebirds.”

The spell that had wrapped around you and Bucky shattered in an instant. You felt the weight of the moment break as Shuri’s words brought a flurry of laughter bubbling to the surface. Your cheeks flushed as you tried to gather your bearings, feeling the playful spark of the moment slip away, yet, in a way, you didn’t mind. It was impossible to stay serious when Shuri’s teasing grin was so infectious.

You groaned, letting out a dramatic sigh as you pushed yourself upright in the water. “Let’s go, white boy. Don’t want you rusting after all,” you teased, your voice light but still holding onto the warmth of the moment.

Bucky’s eyes rolled at the nickname, but there was a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He turned to you, his blue eyes glinting with a playful challenge. “Please don’t tell me you’re gonna call me that too.”

You grinned back, your heart still fluttering from the closeness you’d shared. “Impossible,” you replied with a wink. “I like the sound of it.”

Bucky gave you an exaggerated sigh, his hand reaching up to run through his damp hair as he shook his head. “I swear, I’m surrounded by trouble,” he muttered under his breath, but there was no malice behind his words—just a quiet affection that spoke volumes, even if it was wrapped in sarcasm.

Despite his mock grumbling, he followed your lead, swimming toward the shore. You matched his pace, your muscles still pleasantly sore from the game, but the gentle push of the water made it feel like the whole world was moving in slow motion. The distance between you and Bucky narrowed as you both swam side by side, the warmth of his presence a silent comfort, even with Shuri’s teasing commentary still echoing in the background.

Shuri, of course, didn’t let up. “You two make quite the pair,” she called, paddling along next to you. “I might need to start charging for this level of entertainment.” Her voice was full of laughter, but there was something else there too—an undercurrent of fondness for both of you, as if she was delighted by the connection she could clearly see growing between you and the soldier.

You shot her a playful glare. “Don’t make me make you regret learning how to swim.”

Her grin widened. “What’s the saying the white folks say again? Ah yes, ‘shiver me timbers’.”

Bucky let out a low chuckle beside you, the sound soothing and warm, as if he was finally letting the earlier teasing roll off his shoulders. The smirk he gave you was enough to make your heart skip again, the quiet moment of camaraderie between the three of you filling the air.

As the shoreline grew closer, Bucky’s smirk softened, and his expression turned a little more serious, though not in an uncomfortable way. He gave you a side glance, his voice quieter now, and tinged with something almost shy. “Thanks, by the way,” he said, his tone laced with sincerity. “For, you know, hanging in there with me.”

You blinked, surprised by the soft vulnerability in his words. “Of course, Bucky,” you said, your voice gentle. “You didn’t think I’d leave you hanging, did you?”

Bucky met your gaze, the softness in his eyes matching the quiet connection you felt. “I wouldn’t put it past you,” he teased lightly, but there was warmth behind it. “But I’m glad you didn’t.”

For a moment, you simply floated there, the water still and peaceful around you, the air filled with unspoken understanding. Bucky had always been a complicated puzzle, but right here, right now, it felt like you were finally starting to fit together.

Shuri, ever the interrupter, glanced over at the two of you with a knowing look. “Alright, alright,” she said, pushing herself up from the water as she began heading toward the shore. “You two are sickeningly cute, but seriously, we should get going before we turn into fish.”

Bucky took a look at you, and this time, the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips was genuine, not mocking, but something softer—something real. “Lead the way, little one,” he said with a grin, his voice warm and affectionate as he gestured for Shuri to go ahead.

⠀

The day’s warmth lingered as you and Shuri made your way to the huts nearby, your bodies tired but relaxed from the playful lake game. The sky was beginning to darken, hinting at the coming sunrise, and there was a subtle excitement in the air—soon you’d be heading straight to the palace.

As you reached the hut, you noticed the men’s and women’s changing areas were naturally sex-separate, allowing for a quiet moment of privacy before the more formal events began. You started to step inside your designated hut, but Shuri held you back with a mischievous grin on her face.

“Wait up, Sparky,” she said, her voice dripping with playful curiosity. “We need to talk.”

You raised an eyebrow but followed her inside the small, private space. “About what?”

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about,” Shuri replied, giving you a knowing look as she crossed her arms. “I saw the way you and Bucky were looking at each other out there. That moment—the way he held you steady. You two have something going on, don’t you?”

You felt a flush creep up your neck, but you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “We’re just friends, Shuri. Nothing more.”

She tilted her head to the side, unconvinced. “Friends, huh?” she said, dragging out the word. “Then why do I sense a little more than that? Hmm? You didn’t look like ‘just friends’ when you were practically on top of him in the water.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

You let out a soft groan, trying to hide the warmth in your cheeks. “Shuri, we’re really just friends. We’ve known each other for a while now.”

Her eyes widened with exaggerated interest. “Oh? Tell me everything. How did this magical friendship start?”

You took a deep breath, trying to focus. “Well, it’s not all that exciting. I first met Bucky during a workout session at the compound—he was just sitting off to the side, hydrating or whatever. I’d been working out with some of the agents, and I was parched, so I grabbed a bottle of water. I didn’t notice him at first, but when I went to leave, I accidentally bumped into him, spilling some of the water on him.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the memory. “I was mortified, but he just laughed it off, saying, ‘You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last.’ It was such a small, funny moment, but I remember it so clearly.”

Shuri leaned in, clearly intrigued. “That’s it? That’s how the great Sparky and the white boy became friends?”

You nodded. “Pretty much. But we ended up running into each other again a few months later when we were both assigned to the same mission. It wasn’t planned or anything. Our superiors noticed how naturally we clicked, so after that, they kept putting us together. We just kind of... became friends after that.”

Shuri raised her eyebrows, clearly amused. “Became friends, huh?” She shook her head with a smirk. “There’s something you’re not telling me. The way you two interact is way too comfortable for just a friendship.”

You sighed, crossing your arms. “There’s nothing else. Trust me, we’re just close friends who get along well. He’s been through a lot, and I get it. I’m just... here for him. That’s all.”

Shuri didn’t look convinced. She started pacing back and forth, tapping her chin. “Hmm, well, I’m still not buying it. You two have some serious chemistry, whether you admit it or not. You’re telling me that’s all just... friendship?” She exaggerated the word with air quotes.

You opened your mouth to respond, but Shuri quickly cut you off. “I won’t let you leave this hut until you spill the tea. You can’t hide behind your ‘just friends’ act forever, Sparky.” She grinned playfully, clearly enjoying herself.

You groaned again, feeling the heat rise to your face. “Fine. There was a... moment, but that’s it. He just... makes me feel comfortable. It’s hard to explain.”

Your cheeks burned at the remembrance of that embarrassing move you’d unconsciously pulled. The kiss to his cheek—it had been a simple, spontaneous act of gratitude, but now, in the quiet of your room, you felt your heart race at the memory.

The day had been long, and you found yourself in your quarters, trying to unwind after an exhausting debrief. As your gaze wandered, it landed on something familiar—an old mechanical wristwatch sitting on your desk. It was an heirloom, passed down through your family, and it had always been a symbol of resilience to you. But recently, it had been failing—stopping intermittently, refusing to tick when it should, and making it clear that it needed repair.

You had tried to fix it yourself, but no luck. You hadn’t wanted to take it to the techs; it was too personal. You’d quietly hoped it might somehow start working on its own, but it never did.

That evening, after dinner, you placed it down on the desk and ran your fingers over its familiar face, as if trying to find some connection to the past. But just as you set it aside, a knock at your door startled you.

Opening it, you were surprised to see Bucky standing there. A tool kit was slung over his shoulder, his usual quiet but determined expression on his face.

"Hey," he greeted you with a small, awkward smile. "I—I saw the watch earlier. Thought it might need a little... tune-up."

You blinked, taken aback for a moment. "Bucky? You... know about watches?"

He shrugged slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "More than a few, yeah. Before... well, before everything happened, I worked on mechanical things. Cars, watches, motorcycles—anything with gears."

You raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. "You're telling me you're not just a soldier, but a mechanic too?"

He chuckled softly, a slight warmth in his eyes. "Not just. I used to spend a lot of time fixing things. Figured I might be able to help."

You gestured toward the desk, where the watch lay, still as ever. You hadn't realized just how much you'd been staring at it, silently wishing it could work again.

"I didn’t expect you to notice it," you said quietly, moving to pick it up. "But I—I can’t seem to fix it myself."

Bucky stepped inside and set down his tool kit, his movements slow and deliberate as he began working on the watch. His fingers were steady, his focus intense. There was a calmness in the way he worked, similar to how he handled everything else—with precision and care. But this was different. He wasn’t handling a weapon; he was working on something delicate, something important to you.

The rhythmic sound of his hands moving as he adjusted the gears filled the room. You watched him, the quiet and his attention to detail stirring something deeper in you. The way his brow furrowed in concentration, how his fingers moved without hesitation—it wasn’t just about fixing the watch. It was something more.

“How’d you learn to do this?” you asked softly, your voice quieter now, full of curiosity.

“I had to,” he replied, his gaze still fixed on the watch. “In the army, you don’t always have what you need. I learned how to fix whatever I could get my hands on.”

You nodded slowly, absorbing his words. There was something different about the way he spoke—like every skill, every moment he’d lived, had shaped him into who he was now. This wasn’t the Bucky you were used to—the soldier with a shield or the man in battle. This was another side of him, a gentler one, one that didn’t require fighting to prove his worth.

After a few minutes, Bucky stopped working, his eyes meeting yours as he gave you a small smile. "All fixed."

You carefully took the watch from his hands and examined it. The hands were moving again, ticking steadily, as if it had never been broken. When you reached to take it, your fingers brushed against his for just a moment, and the world seemed to slow. For a heartbeat, everything seemed to freeze—his blue eyes locked with yours, and there was something in the air, unspoken but understood.

You broke the silence, your voice soft but sincere. "You really didn’t have to," you said, still holding the watch in your hands, its ticking now a steady comfort. "But thank you, James. This means a lot."

Bucky’s gaze softened, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "It was nothing. I’m glad I could help."

You stood up, the watch still in your hand, and took a small step toward him. The space between you felt charged now, electric. Without really thinking, you leaned in, pressing a quick, soft kiss to his cheek—just a brush of gratitude, but it felt more than that. The gesture lingered longer than you intended.

The moment you pulled away, you realized your mistake. Bucky stood frozen for a moment, his eyes wide, and you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. For a split second, the room was thick with unspoken tension, and the heat of his gaze made your heart race. You couldn't look at him.

"I—uh—well," he stammered, clearing his throat. "I didn’t expect that."

You quickly regained your composure, your heart still pounding, but your voice steady. "You fixed something important to me. I wanted to show my thanks," you said, though you could feel the rush of warmth on your cheeks. "You’ve done more than I could’ve ever expected."

Bucky’s expression softened, his eyes flickering with something unreadable. He nodded, though he couldn’t quite meet your gaze. "You’re welcome, dove," he said, his voice low. "Anytime."

Your cheeks were still burning, and you quickly opened your arms, pulling him into a quick, grateful hug. It was over in an instant, but his warmth lingered in the space between you. When you pulled away, you couldn’t help but feel the heat of his presence.

"Thank you," you said again, quieter now, more to yourself than to him. "For everything."

Bucky nodded but didn’t speak. His soft smile returned, but there was something else in his eyes—something deeper, like words weren’t enough. He didn’t say anything more as he turned to leave, but as he stepped out, you opened the door and hastily shut it behind him, your heart still pounding in your chest. You leaned against it, eyes closed, feeling the rush of blood in your face and the thick, lingering tension that had settled in your room. You didn’t know what had just happened, but one thing was certain: that kiss had shifted something between you both. And now, you weren’t sure what to do about it.

You shook your head, as if to chase the thought away. Shuri nodded sagely, her eyes dancing with mischief. “I knew it! Something’s going on.” She gave you a dramatic wink. “Don’t worry, I won’t force you to admit anything else. But mark my words, Sparky—there’s more to this than you’re letting on.”

Before you could say anything else, Shuri clapped her hands together, grabbing your attention. “Now, enough of this. You look like you need something to wear for the palace. I’ve got just the thing.”

You blinked, confused. “The palace? Aren’t we heading there soon?”

Shuri grinned. “Yes, and no offense, but what you were wearing isn’t quite appropriate. You’re heading into Wakandan royal territory, and I’m not going to let you go in looking like a tourist.” She quickly rummaged through a nearby chest, pulling out an intricately designed outfit. “Here, you’ll look stunning in this. It’s cultural, beautiful, and fits with the royal occasion.”

You took a step back, eyeing the garment she handed you. It was a royal Wakandan-style dress, the fabric shimmering with patterns that reflected the country’s rich heritage. The deep blues and golds complemented your skin tone perfectly, and the intricate beadwork along the neckline made it clear that this wasn’t just a casual outfit—it was something special.

“This is beautiful,” you said, genuinely touched by her thoughtfulness. “But are you sure I can wear this?”

Shuri shrugged. “Of course. You’re as much a part of this country as anyone. Don’t even think about it. This will be perfect for the palace.”

As you changed into the dress, Shuri stood by, watching you with a playful grin. “You know, I bet Bucky’s going to lose his mind when he sees you in that.”

You shot her a warning look. “Shuri, stop.”

But she was already walking out the door, clearly satisfied with her teasing. “I’ll meet you outside, Sparky. We’ll make an entrance, trust me.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle as you finished getting ready, feeling a strange mix of nervous excitement as you adjusted the dress. Shuri’s antics aside, something about the night ahead felt different. The palace awaited, and you had a feeling that no matter what happened next, things between you and Bucky were going to shift, one way or another.

You stepped outside the hut, feeling the cool air of the evening settle around you as you made your way toward the gathering area. The sunset painted the sky with hues of orange and pink, casting a warm glow over the land, the fading light reflecting off the distant peaks of the mountains. The air was thick with the scent of earth and flowers, the transition from day to night making everything feel a little more magical.

As you reached the edge of the clearing, you spotted Bucky standing there, his back to you. He was dressed in a traditional Wakandan outfit as well—his dark attire highlighted with silver accents, the intricate patterns on his chest and sleeves shimmering under the dying light. The fabric seemed to move with him, like it was alive, giving him an almost regal presence.

Your breath caught in your throat. There was something about the way he looked tonight—so different from the soldier you knew. The colors of his outfit and the strong but gentle lines of his form made him appear like he belonged here, among royalty and tradition. The fading light of the sunset seemed to soften the sharp edges of his usual demeanor, and in that moment, he didn’t look like someone haunted by his past, but rather, someone who had found a place in this world.

He turned as he heard your footsteps, his eyes immediately locking with yours. For a moment, neither of you moved. The setting sun illuminated his features, casting a warm glow across his face, making the familiar blue of his eyes stand out even more.

“You look… great, dove,” he said, his voice low and sincere, his gaze never leaving you.

You felt your heart flutter, the intensity of his words making your cheeks flush. Before you could think of anything to say, Shuri appeared at your side, her grin wide as she observed the exchange. “Told you,” she whispered under her breath, clearly pleased with the effect your appearance had on him.

You swallowed, trying to steady your nerves as you turned toward the palace. The walk ahead felt like a new chapter—one you weren’t sure how it would unfold, but you couldn’t help but feel that whatever happened next, it would change everything. And just as you and Bucky walked together toward the palace, the sun dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky painted with the soft colors of twilight, as if the world itself was holding its breath.

⠀

The grandeur of Wakanda’s capital was one of the many things that could never fail to take your breath away. Towering structures of gleaming stone and glass rose from the earth, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. The skyline shimmered with a blend of advanced technology and rich tradition, a city that harmonized its ancestral heritage with cutting-edge innovation. The air was heavy with the scent of spices and incense, mingling with the hum of machinery that made everything in Wakanda run with such fluid precision.

You couldn’t help but notice the vibrant markings on the faces of the people you passed, intricate designs painted in vivid colors that told stories of their lineage, their roles, and their connection to the land. It was clear that no one here was simply a passerby. Every person had a story, a purpose. The colors marked their identity, their culture, and their pride.

As you entered the palace, the sheer scale of the hall left you speechless. Massive stone columns rose to the ceiling, adorned with vibrant carvings that depicted the history of Wakanda—their ancestors, their battles, and their triumphs. Statues of past rulers and revered warriors stood solemnly along the walls, some holding ceremonial spears, others adorned with colorful beads, each symbolizing a different tribe’s history and honor. In the center of the room, massive holographic displays flickered to life, depicting abstract representations of Wakanda’s values—its strength, its unity, and its future. The air was electric, a seamless blend of tradition and technology.

You could feel the weight of Wakanda's history in every corner of the room. The way the ancient stone floor felt cool beneath your feet, and the vibranium that coursed through the very walls of the palace, pulsing with life. A soft, melodic hum filled the room, as if the palace itself was alive, welcoming all who entered.

The large hall of the palace was bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun, which streamed through massive windows, casting intricate patterns of light on the stone floors. The air was thick with anticipation, as the people of Wakanda gathered to witness the beginning of a new chapter in the history of their nation. The room was a perfect fusion of old and new: towering statues of past kings and queens stood side by side with holographic displays that shimmered with information, adding a layer of modernity to the ancient stone.

Wakandan warriors, adorned in ceremonial attire, stood at the edges of the room, their bodies marked with vibrant paints and designs that spoke to their clans, their history, and their strength. The designs were no simple decoration—each stroke carried meaning, telling a story of survival, legacy, and honor. The air was thick with the weight of tradition and culture, yet there was an unmistakable hum of technology coursing through the space. It was as if the room itself was alive, blending the spiritual and the technological into a perfect harmony.

In the center of the hall, a large circular platform had been set up, its surface marked with more designs—symbols of unity, power, and transformation. It was here that the ceremony would take place, where the destinies of two outsiders would intertwine with that of Wakanda. The people of Wakanda stood with reverence, waiting in hushed silence, as their king, T'Challa, walked to the front.

T’Challa’s presence commanded the room. The black panther suit that adorned him, regal and imposing, made it clear that he was both a warrior and a king. As he took his place, his eyes scanned the room, filled with pride for his people. He held the wisdom of his ancestors, yet there was a modern sensibility in his leadership. Today, he was not just a monarch; he was a protector of those who had fought for his country, and he was about to welcome new members into that fold.

At his side stood Shuri, her vibrant energy a stark contrast to the quiet strength of her brother. Okoye, standing at attention beside them, watched the crowd with a protective gaze, while M'Baku’s massive form loomed at the far side of the hall, his powerful presence impossible to miss.

And then, seated on a throne of gold and ebony, was the Queen Mother—Ramonda. Her regal presence exuded wisdom and compassion, a mother’s strength tempered by years of experience. She was a queen not just by birth, but by the force of her will, her calm demeanor a guiding light for the nation. Her eyes, sharp yet filled with warmth, scanned the crowd, but when they landed on you and Bucky, there was a spark of something deeper—a recognition of the weight of their journey, and the transformation that lay ahead.

Flanking her were several elders and respected leaders of Wakanda, each dressed in ceremonial garb and bearing the weight of their wisdom and responsibility. Shuri stood at your side, her grin wide as she observed the ceremony. She had been teasing you and Bucky ever since you’d arrived, her excitement palpable, but now, even she seemed to hold a reverence for what was about to take place.

The Queen’s gaze shifted between you and Bucky, her expression unreadable, before she spoke, her voice resonating like a deep, soothing melody. “Welcome to the heart of Wakanda, White Wolf, and Silver Fox.”

The words hit you both like a wave.

The ceremony began slowly, with the sound of a drumbeat filling the air, its rhythmic thumping echoing through the hall. The drummers, positioned at the back of the room, beat in time with the energy building in the space. Their rhythm matched the heartbeat of Wakanda itself, steady and unwavering.

As the drumbeats echoed, the elder who had been tasked with guiding the ceremony stepped forward, holding a sacred artifact—an intricately carved bowl, filled with a shimmering powder that seemed to catch the light. The elder held the bowl high, and the people of Wakanda rose in unison, chanting softly in a language older than time itself. The chants reverberated throughout the hall, weaving a sense of unity among everyone present.

T'Challa's voice broke through the chants, strong and steady. "Today, we gather not just to honor two individuals, but to witness the transformation of the past into the future." His words were simple, but they carried the weight of history. "James Buchanan Barnes, you stand before us, not as a man shackled by your past, but as a hero who has chosen to fight for the future."

Bucky, standing tall beside you, felt the eyes of everyone in the room upon him. His expression was resolute, though his hands clenched slightly at his sides. He had come a long way from the man he had once been—the Winter Soldier, lost to Hydra’s control—but now, surrounded by the people of Wakanda, he stood as a new man, a free man.

An elder approached Bucky with a pendant in the shape of a wolf’s head, crafted from the finest Vibranium. The pendant shimmered in the light, catching the glow of the surrounding candles. It was a symbol of his rebirth, his transformation into the White Wolf, the protector of Wakanda, and a man who had reclaimed his humanity.

As the elder placed the pendant around Bucky’s neck, he spoke softly but powerfully. "We welcome you into our legacy, White Wolf. This pendant, forged from Vibranium, will be your guide. It will protect you, strengthen you, and remind you of the path you have chosen. With this symbol, you become not only a part of Wakanda’s legacy, but a part of its future."

The elder then applied ceremonial markings, bright red and gold, to Bucky’s metal arm. Each stroke was precise and deliberate, representing his journey, his struggle, and his victory. The markings were a blend of art and function, combining ancient tradition with the advanced technology of Wakanda. The Vibranium in his arm shimmered with new energy, reflecting the changes that had taken place within him. The pendant and the markings on his arm connected him not just to the country, but to the people, grounding him in his new identity as the White Wolf.

When the ceremony for Bucky concluded, the elder moved to you, and the room’s energy shifted. Your heart raced in your chest as you felt the weight of the moment. The people’s eyes were now on you, waiting, watching. T'Challa’s gaze, though warm and respectful, carried the strength of a king. There was no denying that your journey had been just as profound, if not more so.

The elder, holding a beautiful bracelet crafted from Vibranium, stepped forward. They called your full name in a solemn tone, "Your resilience, your strength, and your unwavering commitment to healing are a testament to the power of the human spirit. You have fought for your freedom, for your people, and for those you hold dear. Today, we honor you as one of ours, Silver Fox."

The elder gently placed the bracelet on your wrist, the Vibranium glowing faintly under the light, as if responding to your very presence. The designs on the bracelet mirrored the ones etched into Bucky’s pendant—symbols of strength, transformation, and unity.

"As this bracelet binds you to Wakanda," the elder continued, "so do your actions bind us all to a future of hope and healing. You are now a part of this land, and this land is now a part of you. You, too, have earned your place in Wakanda’s future."

You bowed your head in gratitude, humbled by the honor bestowed upon you. The people of Wakanda stood once again, this time not only recognizing Bucky’s bravery but acknowledging your strength and resilience.

T'Challa then stepped forward, his voice firm and resolute as he addressed the room. "Today, we honor those who have shown us what it means to fight for something greater than ourselves. Bucky Barnes, the White Wolf, and [Y/N] [L/N], the Silver Fox. You have proven yourselves worthy of our respect, and of our future." His eyes flicked to you both, and there was something in his gaze that spoke of the trials ahead, but also of the hope that lay within them.

The Queen Mother, Ramonda, rose from her throne, her presence commanding the room’s attention. She was dressed in an elegant yet powerful gown of deep green and gold, the fabric flowing like a river of life, and her crown glinted with the subtle beauty of Vibranium inlay. Her eyes, filled with the wisdom of ages, fell on you both, and you felt the weight of her gaze, a mix of authority and nurturing kindness.

"Your journeys are not your own," Queen Ramonda’s voice rang out, deep and steady. "You stand here today not only for yourselves, but for the generations that will come after you. The strength you’ve shown, the resilience you've demonstrated, is a gift to Wakanda. And so, we recognize you—not just as individuals, but as part of our family, part of the legacy of this great land."

With her words, you felt something deep within you stir—a connection not just to Wakanda, but to a greater purpose. She smiled gently at both you and Bucky before turning back to the assembly. "It is my honor to welcome you both, [Y/N] and Bucky, into the heart of Wakanda. You are family now, and we will stand together, as one."

As the ceremony came to a close, Shuri flashed you a wide grin. "Told you it would be unforgettable," she said, stepping forward with an impish smile. Okoye, ever the protector, nodded approvingly, and even M'Baku gave a brief but respectful nod in your direction.

The air hummed with pride, unity, and the undeniable sense that this was only the beginning of something much larger. The ceremony had concluded, but the festivities were only just beginning. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the grand hall was transformed into a vibrant celebration of life, culture, and unity. Candles flickered in every corner, casting a warm glow over the room, while musicians began to play a lively rhythm on drums, flutes, and other traditional instruments. The sound of the drums reverberated in your chest, a deep, powerful beat that seemed to carry the very spirit of Wakanda.

You stood near the edge of the hall, still processing the significance of the ceremony and the honor bestowed upon you. The weight of the Vibranium bracelet on your wrist was a constant reminder of the new chapter in your life. But for now, the room buzzed with the energy of celebration. Laughter and chatter filled the air as people from all walks of life came together to rejoice in the moment.

Bucky, standing beside you, was visibly more relaxed now, a small smile on his face as he looked around the room. His hands were still touching the pendant around his neck, the wolf’s head symbol of his new identity. You could see that the ceremony had meant a great deal to him—this was more than just a formality; it was a true rebirth for him.

“Do you know how to dance?” you asked, nudging him playfully.

Bucky chuckled softly, looking at the dancers in the center of the room. “I’d like to think so but it’s been a little over fifty years since I’ve done some, so don’t expect much,” he replied with a grin. “But I think I could manage, with a little help.”

Before you could respond, a burst of laughter rang out behind you. Shuri had bounded over, her excitement infectious. She had already shed her ceremonial attire and was now in a more casual outfit, her vibrant energy still radiating from her. “Come, Silver Fox, don’t just stand there!” she called. “Join us! It’s time to dance!”

You hesitated, but Shuri grabbed your hand, pulling you into the center of the room. The music grew louder, faster, and the rhythm was infectious. The Wakandan dancers, moving gracefully in perfect harmony, invited you to join in. You couldn’t help but smile at the warmth of the moment, the energy of the people around you making it hard to stay still.

Shuri spun around with ease, and for a moment, you lost yourself in the beat, the swirl of vibrant colors, and the ancient movements. The dance wasn’t just about rhythm—it was a celebration of culture, a connection to the land, and a testament to Wakanda’s resilience. Each step was a piece of history, passed down from generation to generation, and you could feel the weight of it all in every motion.

During the dance, you caught a glimpse of T'Challa and Queen Ramonda standing nearby, both watching the celebration with approving smiles. T'Challa, his posture regal and composed, caught your eye and gave you a small nod, his expression warm. Queen Ramonda stood beside him, her presence as commanding as ever, but her face was soft as she watched the joy unfolding around her. Okoye stood off to the side, watching over everyone with a watchful gaze, her arms crossed over her chest but a small smile tugging at her lips. Even M'Baku, usually so stoic and serious, was tapping his foot to the beat, a twinkle of enjoyment in his eyes.

Shuri, not one to be outdone, suddenly appeared in front of you, her eyes sparkling mischievously. “You’re doing well, Sparky,” she said, before twirling around and laughing. “But I bet I could teach you a thing or two.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge, Princess?”

Shuri grinned devilishly. “Oh, you bet it is.” She spun once more before turning to Bucky with a playful look. “Hey, White Wolf! You’ve got nothing on me.”

Bucky’s eyes widened slightly at the mention of his new title. “You know,” he said with a hint of amusement, “I think I preferred ‘White Boy.’”

Shuri paused, a mock gasp escaping her lips. “Mother, do you hear this? He’s insulting his own nickname!” she exclaimed dramatically, throwing her hands up. “White Wolf is majestic, regal, a perfect representation of his new identity. White Boy? What is this, a beach vacation?”

Queen Ramonda, who had been watching the exchange with a knowing smile, let out a soft chuckle. “Shuri, dear, you are always so dramatic,” she said, her tone affectionate but firm. “Perhaps White Wolf has more gravitas, but White Boy has its charm. There’s no harm in both.”

Shuri huffed, but there was no real anger in her tone. “I’ll have to get used to it, I suppose. But mark my words, Mother—White Boy had a much better ring to it. It's simple and to the point.”

T'Challa, who had been listening to the exchange, chuckled softly. "Let us leave the nicknames to Shuri, shall we? As long as it brings honor to the warrior, that is all that matters." His voice carried an amused but gentle authority.

The conversation shifted to lighter matters as Shuri and T'Challa continued to banter back and forth, with Queen Ramonda watching over them, her serene smile never faltering. The warmth between the family was palpable, a testament to their unity and shared history. Even Okoye, who typically kept her distance from casual conversations, seemed to relax a little, her lips quirking up at the sight of the playful exchanges.

The music swirled around you as the dancing continued, and for a moment, everything seemed to blur into a whirl of color and rhythm. You found yourself moving with the flow of the crowd, caught up in the energy of it all. But even amidst the revelry, your eyes kept drifting back to Bucky.

He was standing a little off to the side now, watching the dancers with a small, amused smile on his face. His usual guarded demeanor had melted away in the warmth of the celebration, and he seemed to be genuinely enjoying the moment, despite his earlier hesitations about dancing.

You caught his eye and, with a playful grin, motioned for him to join you. “Come on, White Wolf,” you teased, using his new title with a grin. “You’re just standing there. Time to show off those moves.”

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. “I told you, I’m rusty in my moves.”

“No excuses,” you countered, pulling him gently into the center of the room, where the dancers had formed a loose circle. You had no idea what you were doing, but that didn’t matter. The important part was being together, in the moment. “If I can do it, you can too.”

He laughed, but the sound was warm, genuine. “Alright, alright,” he said, his tone soft and amused. “You’ve got me.”

With a deep breath, he tried to mimic some of the movements you were making, his arms stiff at first, his steps slightly offbeat. But something was endearing about his attempts—he wasn’t exactly graceful, but his effort was enough to make you smile. You found yourself laughing along with him, not in mockery, but in genuine joy.

“Not bad, not bad,” you said, teasing him as you twirled away from him before pulling him back. “You just need a little more flair.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Flair? I thought we were just supposed to move to the beat.”

“Moving to the beat with flair is a whole different level,” you said, laughing again. You grabbed his hand, leading him into a spin that ended with you both standing close together. His breath caught for a moment, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he looked down at you, his eyes soft.

Bucky’s smile softened, his blue eyes locking with yours. “Hey, I’m—uh, I’m glad I am here. With you.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart swell, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit breathless. You reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead, your fingers lingering just a moment longer. “I’m glad, too.”

As you moved together in the dance, a perfect balance of lightheartedness and closeness, everything else seemed to fade away. The music, the laughter, the people around you—none of it mattered. At that moment, there was only the two of you. No past, no struggles. Just the here and now.

Bucky chuckled softly, breaking the silence between you two with a playful glint in his eyes. “You know, I think I’m starting to remember this whole dancing thing. Might have to make it a regular occurrence.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Only if you promise to keep improving.”

He smirked. “Deal. But only if you promise to keep dragging me onto the dance floor every time.”

With a laugh, you leaned in just slightly, your face a little closer to his than it had been before. “I’ll hold you to that.”

The music swirled on, and it felt like the world had slowed down just for you two. As you both continued to dance, laughter and warmth filling the space between you, there was a simple, undeniable truth—you were exactly where you were meant to be. Together.

⠀

After a long and eventful evening, you found yourself in the quiet of your apartment, the warm evening air of June drifting in through the open balcony doors. The sounds of the city—distant chatter, the hum of cars, and the occasional burst of laughter—filled the background, soothing in its familiarity. You were curled up on one of the loveseats facing the starry night, a book in your lap and a plate of strawberry-covered chocolates within arm’s reach. The soft light from the moon illuminated the pages of your book, but you found your mind drifting more to the stars than to the words.

You heard the faint sound of a door creaking open, followed by the soft thud of footsteps. Looking up, you saw Bucky standing there in the doorway, his dark hair still slightly damp from his shower. He wore a simple pair of sweatpants and a loose T-shirt—his version of pajamas, just as casual and comfortable as yours. His gaze softened as he spotted you, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest.

“Hey, Silver Fox, you planning on eating all those by yourself?” he asked, raising an eyebrow in playful accusation as he crossed the room toward you.

You grinned, raising the plate slightly. “I might. They’re too good to share.”

Bucky chuckled, taking a seat next to you, his gaze flicking to the plate of chocolates. “Strawberries, huh? You know, if you keep eating those, you might turn into one.”

You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. “I could think of worse things.” You reached for one and popped it into your mouth, savoring the sweet, decadent taste. “Want one?”

He hesitated for a moment before shrugging. “Why not?” He reached for one of the chocolates, biting into it with a smile. “Guess I can’t resist.”

The two of you sat there for a moment, enjoying the peaceful quiet of the night, the only sound being the rustling of the pages of your book and the occasional crunch of chocolate. Bucky seemed to be content just being there with you, as if this simple moment of normalcy was something he hadn’t realized he needed.

“Do you ever think about what we’ve been through?” you asked after a while, your voice soft but steady. You didn’t look at him immediately, but you felt his attention shift as he processed the question.

Bucky let out a long breath, his gaze drifting to the stars. “All the time,” he said quietly. “Some days it feels like I can’t escape it… like I’m still trapped in that past. Like it’s following me.”

You nodded slowly, understanding the weight of his words. You’d been there, in that same mental prison. “It’s hard,” you said, your voice low. “I spent so many years running from my past, trying to forget what I was made to do. But you know what? You’re not defined by what happened to you. You’re defined by what you do now. Who you choose to be now.”

Bucky’s eyes flicked toward you, searching your face as if trying to read the sincerity in your words. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough to keep moving forward some days,” he said, his voice tight with a rawness you hadn’t heard from him before.

“You are,” you said firmly, meeting his gaze. “You’ve already taken the hardest step—admitting that you need help, that you want to change. That’s the hardest part. The rest will come with time. You’re not that man anymore. You’re the White Wolf. You’re… you.”

His expression softened, and for a moment, it was like the weight on his shoulders lifted just slightly. He let out a breath, glancing down at his hands before meeting your eyes again. “I never thought I’d get a title like that,” he said with a small chuckle. “I mean, who would have thought Bucky Barnes, a guy who can’t even remember most of his own life, would end up with a ceremony and a nickname like that?”

You smiled, leaning back into the cushions. “I think it suits you,” you teased, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “I think White Boy was a little more fitting, though.”

Bucky laughed at that, a deep, throaty laugh that seemed to ease the tension between you both. “Maybe I should’ve kept that one,” he said, his voice still full of humor. “At least I wouldn’t have to deal with the whole... 'ceremonial' aspect of it. Steve would've been proud.”

“Yeah, well,” you shot him a sly grin, “Steve would have been proud, but you know, he never could resist calling you ‘Buck.’ Not that he ever had much room to talk with his Cap persona.”

Bucky rolled his eyes dramatically. “I swear, that man and his shield. Always had to remind everyone of his title. I never needed a title to know who I was. I remember him being all tiny and as thin as a twig.”

You burst into laughter, shaking your head. “You’re right. You were always the guy who saved his ass in a fight, and he gets all the credit.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” He let out a small laugh too, leaning back slightly and stretching. “But hey, it’s Steve. He’s got that whole ‘leader’ thing going on.”

Your smile faded a little as you watched the stars, your thoughts turning inward for a moment. “It’s not easy to forget, though,” you murmured. “The things they made us do.”

Bucky gave you a knowing look. “I know. But we’re not defined by what we were forced to do. We’re defined by what we’re doing now.”

You nodded, appreciating his words. “It’s funny, though. Everyone thinks they know you from what they’ve seen on the surface. But they don’t know everything. No one knows what it’s really like to survive what we did.”

He turned his gaze toward you. “Yeah? So, what was it like for you? I never really got the full story.”

You let out a breath, leaning back into the cushions, letting the weight of the question settle over you for a moment before answering. “I got trafficked to Southeast Asia when I was really young by an extremist group. They took kids like me and put us in a concentration camp, training us to fight. To become soldiers. It was like the Hunger Games. We weren’t seen as children. Just tools, you know?”

Bucky’s face softened, his eyes filled with sorrow and a silent understanding that only someone who had been through something similar could truly grasp. “Jesus. How did you… survive all that?”

Your voice dropped to a whisper, the memories still painful, even after all this time. “I was fifteen when S.H.I.E.L.D. rescued me. They raided the compound, took me in. But it wasn’t easy. For years, I had flashbacks, panic attacks. I could barely trust anyone, let alone let them help me.” You paused, letting the weight of your past hang in the air for a moment. "But S.H.I.E.L.D. didn’t treat me like a broken weapon. They saw me as someone who could heal. They got me therapy, helped me recover. I trained as an agent, but I wasn’t just a soldier anymore. I was... something more. I spent years figuring out who I was again. I’m still figuring it out."

Bucky’s eyes softened even more. “So you’ve also been through hell.”

You nodded, locking eyes with him. “I have. But I’m here now. And I’m not that soldier anymore. Just like you, James. We’ve both come a long way.”

Bucky sat back for a moment, his eyes staring off into the distance as he processed your words. You could see the wheels turning in his mind, as if he were comparing your journey to his own, seeing the parallels in your stories. The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable; it was filled with mutual understanding, shared pain, and healing.

Finally, his voice came low and sincere, with a weight that carried more meaning than you expected. “I get it now,” he said, his gaze softening as he looked at you, like he was seeing you in a new light. “I always thought I was the only one who went through that. That no one could possibly understand the kind of hell I went through. But you... you went through something just as brutal. And you made it out. Not just made it out—healed. That’s… that’s something. It takes real strength to do what you did. To come back from all of that and still keep your humanity.”

You felt your heart tighten at his words, but there was no sadness in them. Instead, it was admiration. Respect. You hadn’t realized just how much of an impact your story had on him until that moment, until you saw the understanding in his eyes.

“James, you’re not broken. You’re not the man they tried to make you into,” you said softly, reaching out to rest a hand on his. “Neither of us are. What we went through, it doesn’t define us. It’s who we are now, who we choose to be going forward.”

Bucky stared at your hand for a moment, then met your gaze again, his eyes wide with something between awe and gratitude. “I don’t know if I could’ve gotten through it without you, dove,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're the one who showed me it was possible to heal, to still be something good after everything. I don’t know how you did it, but I’m… I’m starting to believe that I can too.”

A small smile tugged at your lips as you squeezed his hand gently. “You already are, Buck’. You’re already healing. You just need to believe it.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The quiet was comfortable, not awkward, as Bucky’s words seemed to settle into your chest, a warm weight that felt like something shifting inside both of you. He understood now. He saw the strength in you, the same strength that had once seemed impossible to find in himself.

Then, with a small, almost hesitant smile, Bucky spoke again. “And to think, I thought I’d be the experiment and teach you how to get through all of this.”

You smiled softly at that. “You’re a work in progress, Barnes. But you’re getting there.”

He chuckled quietly. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t let it go to your head, dove.”

You laughed, nudging him again. “You’re lucky I like you.”

Bucky laughed, but it was a lighter sound, the weight of the conversation lifting a little. He leaned back against the armrest, still holding your hand, but this time, it felt different. Less like a lifeline and more like an understanding, a bond between two people who had walked similar dark paths and were finally finding their way into the light.

The quiet between you grew, not awkward, but warm and heavy with unspoken emotions. The soft hum of the city below seemed distant, a background melody to the quiet connection you shared. Reaching for a chocolate-covered strawberry on the plate between you, you held it up, your smile turning playful.

“You know,” you began, studying the glossy chocolate coating, “this kind of reminds me of life. The strawberry is the tough stuff—the tangy, bitter parts you have to get through. And the chocolate?” You grinned. “That’s the healing. The sweetness that makes all the hard stuff worth it.”

Bucky raised a brow, leaning slightly closer. “So what you’re saying is, we’re both just strawberries trying to coat ourselves in chocolate?” His lips curved into a lopsided smirk, the teasing glint in his eyes unmistakable.

You laughed softly, rolling your eyes. “Not exactly what I meant, but sure. If that helps you sleep at night.”

Before you could take a bite, his metal hand reached out, swift but deliberate, and plucked the strawberry from your fingers. His smirk widened as he held it up to his lips, taking a slow, deliberate bite. His eyes never left yours as he chewed, and there was something almost maddening about the mischievous twinkle in his gaze.

“Hey!” you protested, feigning offense as you leaned forward. “That was mine.”

He shrugged, holding out the remaining half toward you with an innocent tilt of his head. “Sharing is caring, dove.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but despite your mock irritation, a smile tugged at your lips. Leaning closer, you took a careful bite, the rich sweetness of the chocolate blending with the tartness of the strawberry on your tongue. You leaned back with a satisfied hum, but before you could savor it fully, Bucky’s expression shifted, his brow furrowing slightly.

“You’ve got some chocolate,” he murmured, his tone softer now, almost tender.

You blinked as he reached out, his metal thumb brushing the corner of your lip with a featherlight touch. The sensation was fleeting, yet it sent a small shiver down your spine. Then, before you could react, he brought his thumb to his lips, licking away the smudge of chocolate with a casual ease that left your heart pounding.

“Not bad,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a small smirk, as though entirely unaware of the effect he was having on you.

You swallowed hard, your thoughts scrambling for something witty to say, but the words caught in your throat as Bucky’s gaze softened. He leaned in slightly, his movements slow and deliberate, his attention flicking between your eyes and your lips.

“Is this okay?” he asked quietly, his voice low and careful, as though he was afraid of breaking the moment.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you nodded, your voice barely a whisper. “Yeah, it’s okay.”

His lips brushed against yours with a hesitance that made your heart flutter, as though he were trying to pour every unspoken word, every unacknowledged feeling, into that single, delicate moment. There was a warmth to his touch, not just physical but something deeper—a quiet reverence that made you feel seen, understood in a way you hadn’t expected. His lips were soft, yet there was a firmness in the way he pressed them against yours, as if he were grounding himself at the moment, testing its reality.

It wasn’t hurried, not the kind of kiss borne out of passion or desperation, but one that carried weight, and sincerity. He kissed you with an almost fragile hope, like he was afraid that pushing too hard might shatter whatever fragile thread had brought you both here. His breath mingled with yours, faint and steady, a subtle reminder of how close you were.

Your hand drifted to his shoulder, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as if anchoring yourself to him, to this moment. His shoulder felt solid beneath your touch, a quiet reassurance of his presence. You leaned in, tilting your head slightly to deepen the connection, mirroring his pace. The sweetness of the chocolate and the faint tang of the strawberry lingered between you, blending with the warmth of his kiss and creating a sensory memory you knew you wouldn’t forget.

His hand—flesh, not metal—came to rest lightly on your jaw, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a touch so gentle it sent a shiver down your spine. His fingers curled slightly, cradling your face as though you were something precious, something worth holding onto. It wasn’t just a kiss; it was a conversation without words, an exchange of trust, of vulnerability.

When he pulled back, it wasn’t sudden. He lingered close, his lips barely grazing yours as his breath warmed your skin. His forehead dipped to rest lightly against yours, his eyes still closed as if he were savoring the moment, reluctant to let it end. You stayed there for a moment, the world around you fading into nothing but the soft sound of your breaths and the steady rhythm of your heartbeats, perfectly in sync.

When he finally opened his eyes, the blue of his gaze was deeper, softer, filled with an emotion you could barely put into words. He looked at you like you were something sacred, something that had started to piece together parts of himself he hadn’t realized were broken.

You smiled softly, your thumb brushing against his arm. “You okay?” you asked, your voice gentle, a little breathless.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his lips curving into a shy smile. “More than okay.”

His hand lingered on your jaw for a moment longer, his thumb tracing the faintest line along your cheek before he pulled it away, his gaze never leaving yours. You weren’t sure what would come next, but for now, this was enough. This was everything.

“You’ve got a weird way of sharing strawberries,” you teased softly, your voice barely above a whisper, though it carried a warmth that matched the steady thrum in your chest.

Bucky let out a chuckle, his lips quirking into a shy smile. “Yeah, well, you’ve got a weird way of making metaphors. I think we’re even.”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the weight of the past seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the warmth of his presence and the quiet promise of what could come next.

PART ONE. l NEXT PART.

Want to read more of my works? Check out my masterlist !

taglist : @stilleobjection — @the-fandoms-onceler — @zyra-7 .

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dividers ©️ @cafekitsune .

angelremnants ©️ 2024. All rights reserved. Do not repost, reproduce, or distribute without explicit permission.

[an-angelstears]

this is real, not acting ...

fate . you and your co-star, satoru gojo, start to feel something real ... and NOT for a movie !

the demon (warnings/contents) . [ part 1 , sfw ]

the angel (pairings) . satoru gojo x gn!reader

you were a famous actress/actor, mainly starring in horror or action movies. you gained a lot of fame after one particular action movie with a hint of horror where you had to fight aliens and such.

you were known as the attractive actress/actor that played one of the main characters in the show; and especially for how badass the character was portrayed. this obviously opened a bunch of doors of opportunities, and your manager suggested that you try other movie genres—like drama or ‘rom com’s.

you of course accepted, seeking to climb up the metaphorical stairs of the entertainment industry. even though you were much more experienced with action movies—maybe trying a bit of lovey dovey and stepping out of your comfort zone is a necessary step to make your name boom! on social media.

so, you auditioned for romance-type movies. at first, all the recruiters were confused. what was an action star doing in a romance audition? but after a few auditions, you finally got accepted into a rom-com titled ‘Changed Me’, with you being the main character’s love interest.

the story was simple; the main character was a normal highschool kid who was burnt out from school and from lack of money. after meeting a bubbly person who was rich, said person fell in love with him and the main character intended to use them for money at first, but then also fell in love over time.

the story was simple, yeah. but it was going to get carried by satoru gojo anyway. oh, and speaking of satoru gojo..

when you checked who the main character was, it was the legendary, mighty, strong, famous, steal-your-girl-and-man actor, satoru gojo. this is insane. how are you going to film your first rom-com with a professional romance actor with years of experience? well, just try your best, i guess..

it was time to film the first scene of the movie, which was satoru gojo’s character introduction. but you still wanted to watch him work since you were a complete beginner in these types of movies. all that you know is that it’s just like acting in action movies but you gotta hold back cracking a smile when you get too flustered.

seems simple enough..

you watch satoru gojo intently, watching how he keeps the ‘slice of life’ vibes in every scene with his humor, dialogue, and of course, looks. he looked calm and happy while being quiet, since he will be narrating the dialogue later anyway.

after he filmed his scenes, you then go on to observe him narrating his lines. his cocky, but still manly voice fits his character so well.

“so, yeah, this is my morning routine.. just wake up, go to school, do homework, and go to bed.. add in a bit of eating, drinking..” he mutters against the microphone, adding in a little defeated sigh to show that the main character is not satisfied with his current life.

damn, you thought. that was hella easy. it wasn’t your first time being introduced to scenes where they feel a little comedic—but it actually holds a deeper meaning. like in this one, satoru’s character is trying to play it off with a little bit of a joyful tone, but the dialogue itself plus the defeated sigh shows that he’s clearly not well.

then, the scene just switches to some comedic thing where the main character falls off of his bed trying to get up for school, with satoru muttering a little “augh.. that hurt..”

..maybe you were overanalyzing this?

maybe it was just a comedy scene, and not like those deep, emotional scenes hidden behind a comedic feeling—like what was usually present in your past movies.

right, past movies. plan a; forget about them.

well, not straight up forget about them and everything you’ve learned. forget about the usual formula, since this obviously isn’t accurate with this movie you were gonna act in.

from what you remember, there’s rarely any slice of life things with action movies unless it’s a jackie-chan (not sponsored) movie—with comedy, of course, and other comedy related action movies.

so, when a couple of days passed by, and it was your character’s first introduction in the movie, you knew you were fucked.

“okay, and.. action!”

your heart raced. the scene was very simple; you were just going to bump into the main character and introduce yourself. haha, easy, right?

but not when you keep accidentally staring at satoru gojo for too long, making the scene too awkward and you both having to restart it.

“why did you even bring a romance rookie over?” you hear satoru gojo whispering to the recruiter, making your heart drop. your first impression for this very experienced actor now just got buried in the ground.

“alright, mr. gojo, y/n, come on.” the director calls, ready to restart the scene.

after hearing that whisper, you really wanted to impress him for some reason. so when the scene played, you pretended to look at something in the distance—mimicking someone who is zoning out.

« just make sure to not actually fall when you feel satoru gojo bump into you. » you thought to yourself.

so when you feel a rather muscular build colliding with you, you pretend to fall, your books (props) falling on the ground. you look up to see satoru gojo, making sure not to stare too long.

“hey! watch where you’re going!” you scoff, picking up your books.

meanwhile, satoru seemed impressed. you were just stuttering over your lines a minute ago. “sorry,” he muttered, crouching to help you pick up your books.

bite back your smile.

it seemed impossible. how could you even get charmed just by this? he’s just acting! this isn’t real..

“cut!”

[franki-lew-yo]

James and the Giant Peach is still (mostly) for young children

Despite a single pre-metoo joke and it's uncanny-ish artstyle that's a serious make-or-break-you factor on if you like it, James and the Giant Peach is aggressively a movie for young children. I personally like it as I never find it a patronizing sit for little kids, like Don Bluth's movies from the 90s so often were, but that really is what I think alienates people; the intended audience may be a bit too scared of the visuals (NOT like how they are with TNBC, which kids go in expecting to be scary) where the adult audience who is here for the 'creepy stop-motion' feel like the movie is lacking for not being Nightmare or Coraline, which is unfair. It absolutely scared me as a little little kid but upon finally facing it at, like ten or whenever it was on Cartoon Network's movie show, I realized there was nothing to fear. And that, in turn, was exhilarating. It's such good symmetry that the film is about facing your fears and standing up for yourself because that's exactly what my relationship with it was. It's such a comfort film for me. My og Bluey. JatGP, Courage the Cowardly Dog, Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh, Ernest and Celestine = perfect comfort after I watch something serious and/or disturbing.

Half my reason for trying to pied-piper everyone else towards it as it's own merit is I think James and the Giant Peach would hit hard for lovers of weirdcore and dreamcore ala Jack Stauber or @samsketchbook's 'Welcome to Our Dimensional Party'.

That "looks unsettling/potentially disturbing but actually cute or gentle" vibe pairs perfectly with dreamcore aesthetic. We're coming up on it's 30 year anniversary I hope to see a genuine resurgence. If I had it my way and I was Dan Olson I'd make an hour-long look at the movie, the original book and Henry Selick's filmography as a surrealist the way Dan made an hour-lookback at Bakshi's Lord of the Rings. But I'm not. Cause I'm not Dan Olson and I can't build up the nerve to either show my face or figure out how to make videos in two years.

But anyway, about the title of this post (content warning: downer nsfl stuff; mentioning of real life child ab*se cases):

James' life with his aunts hits VERY different when you're an adult and you've watched too much true crime.

It's not intentional on the part of Dahl or Henry Selick. Selick had Mariam and Joanna ham up the screen and they clearly loved every minute of it and Dahl I think was just trying to tell an 'authentic' type fairytale story where the main character has to escape their evil family. Point being- Spiker and Sponge are supposed to be 'evil for the sake of evil' villains who could only exist as hammy caricatures in an already weird story. They aren't supposed to be like the parents in Matilda or the Twits who I'd argue are a little more 'realistic' depiction of awful people...except for the fact that legal guardians like Spiker and Sponge DO actually exist.

There's a heavy implication in the film that no one else in their county even knows James lives with Spiker and Sponge (literally the only people around to recognize James' existence are the bugs when they first meet him!). His aunts seem to make James work out of frustration for having to take him in, like he's a burden and they're making him pay for being one by being their slave. They actively don't feed him except for rotting fish and then shame him for not eating it. The Lane Smith picture book implies that James' parents weren't killed by a rhino but rather it's Spiker and Sponge who put that idea in James' head and use it to control him. And all that BEFORE the beatings which you know are happening off screen.

After the horrifying cases of Ruby Franke, Sylvia Likens and the Turpins, the "every child deserves a parent but not every parent deserves children" reality of it all makes you realize that James probably would have died if he lived with his aunts. Considering how they flip out on him in New York- that boy REALLY needed to escape, giant peach or no.

This is absolutely another reason for why JatGP is a comfort movie for grownups. You have this horrific childhood rescued by loving in-human parents who will kill everyone in the room and then themselves if you touch their human boy. It's like Opal but if Claire found a happier family. Of bugs. None of that was intentional, ftr, but it's what sticks out to me.

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Headcanons: Watching a Scary Movie Holovid with Torrent Company

I got intense brainrot after seeing this adorable art from @lonewolflupe, and it’s been consuming me ever since. 

As a horror wimp, this is how I imagine things would go.

Jesse 

He’s the one who suggests horror night in the first place.

He is so enthusiastic about it that you don’t have the heart to turn him down.

He promises not to pick anything too scary.

He passes out fifteen minutes into the holovid (“Sorry, cyar’ika, it was leg day”).

You’re too scared to get up and turn it off, so you end up hiding behind him for the whole movie.

You have vowed revenge, but it’s been weeks, and you still haven’t figured out anything that he’s scared of. Kix knows, but refuses to tell you.

Hardcase

He wants to introduce you to the classics, so he picks Alien (1979). “It’s not scary, babe, I promise!”

LIES. IT IS SO SCARY. 

HOW CAN HE BE EATING POPCORN WHEN A KARKING CHESTBURSTER JUST KARKING CHESTBURSTED?!

Ripley kinda 👀

After the sixth jumpscare, your nerves get the best of you and you smack him with a pillow, which successfully instigates The Great Pillow War.

As hostilities escalate, you “accidentally” bump the remote and turn off the holo.

As per the terms of the ceasefire, Hardcase is contractually obligated to cuddle you all night so the facehuggers don’t get you.

Tup

Neither of you even want to watch a kriffing scary holo. Why are you doing this again? Because Hardcase convinced you it was a foundational piece of galactic pop culture, that’s why, Force damn him!

You don’t even make it ten minutes before Tup suggests switching to Hocus Pocus instead.

You have to pause mid-opening credits because you realize you can’t watch Hocus Pocus without eating a battalion’s worth of candy.

You both jump on the sofa to belt out “I Put a Spell On You.”

Twice.

You take a break to make popcorn because you forgot there were only three minutes of the holo left, so then you have to start Halloweentown while you finish eating. One thing leads to another, and you end up binging not-scary Halloween classics until 3 AM.

Dogma

He wants to do a comparative analysis of Nosferatu (1922) with Nosferatu (1979) in preparation for Nosferatu (2024).

He takes notes.

He points out every plot hole and inconsistency.

You’re pretty confident that you can handle the cheesy horror of 1922. You are unprepared for the emotional impact of the third act. 

Dogma puts down his datapad so he can give you a hug. When the holo ends, he makes a pot of tea and the pair of you spend the rest of the evening discussing the film. You never get around to watching 1979, but that’s okay, because you’re going to have another holo night next week. 

The next day, you receive a holomessage with his formal report on the plot, structure, music, and performances. There isn’t a single typo.

He suggests going out for dinner before your next holo night. He knows a great place in Little Mon Cala.

Bonus: Fives and Echo

Chaos in the mess hall.

You don’t even know what holovid they pick because they keep you laughing too hard to pay attention.

Something with werewolves and corsets, you think. Wait, is this just an early ‘00s gothic rock music holo?

Whatever, the night turns into a sugar-fueled impromptu pajama party anyway. Where did they even get nail polish?!

The twins are so loud that the rest of Torrent Company shows up to investigate and ends up crashing the party.

Rex walks in to get a cup of caf the next morning to find you all passed out and covered in candy corn. He turns around and leaves without saying a word. Plausible deniability is his middle name, and he already has enough flimsiwork without adding whatever the kriff just happened in the mess hall to the mix.

[local-lamppost]

Sonic 3 Initial Thoughts

So I saw Sonic 3 and I really liked it. Adventure 2 has my favorite story of the franchise so even a loose adaptation was great to see (they even referenced Shadow the Hedgehog by having Shadow's origins be a black comet).

The only part I had a problem with was how they shied away from everything being GUN's fault. Gerald was hired to create the a weapon, a life form that could also cure his granddaughter's illness. Then the project gets out of hand and GUN wants to cover it up, so they kill everyone and imprison Gerald to keep him working for them (and they later kill him anyway in an amazing cutscene). GUN spends the whole game doing their best to keep the cover up going and doubling down. They are the real bad guys. This is still in the movie but it feels glossed over.

I loved Maria and Shadow's dynamic. We didn't get too much time with them, but the way it was shown-that Maria was the only one in the facility that didn't see Shadow as a monster/alien/things to be studied and Shadow being someone Maria could play with. I wish they had included a line about Maria wanting to experience the world beyond where her grandfather went for research, that she and Shadow planned to explore the world first hand when it was finished, and Maria's last words of protecting the world. Being the world's protector despite everything the world has done to him is Shadow's most important trait and I feel like it could've been touched on more.

The fight between Shadow and Sonic was amazing. Shadow goading Sonic into killing him, pointing at his heart the same way Maria and Tom have done to each one, and that connection being what snaps Sonic out of his anger was perfect. Then going on to watch the sun (a still living star) rise over the earth while they talk. Gorgeous.

Knuckles and Tails were relevant! This is always something I worry about in sequels that add to the cast, but they were handled perfectly. Knuckles being the guardians and having the final say of giving Sonic the power. Tails being the brains and moral support, as well as peacemaker between Sonic and Knuckles. It all evened out very well.

Lastly, Stone and the Robotniks. While I have mixed feelings of him being alive in the movie's present, Gerald is a fantastic villain. His line of "You're not Maria, Ivo" was brutal. I was wondering how they would work out a living Gerald with access to a living grandchild still wanting to destroy everything, but having him purely treat Ivo as a shell throughout was perfect. Ivo himself just wants to be cared for, something he thinks only family can provide for him despite Stone being right there. It's this familial requirement for affection that allows Gerald to use him and for Stone to be forced out, and if they do bring him back (which I really hope they don't) what his new dynamic with Stone would be now that he knows Stone really does love him.

All and all, a great film and I'm excited for the fourth. I'm really excited to see how Amy and Metal Sonic are handled, especially now that SEGA is writing her as an actual character lately.

[3liza]

Fired on Mars is alright, I especially appreciate any that it's (so far) non-space opera sci fi on a major network, an extreme rarity, especially since the Expanse turned into another ghost alien fuckaround because American audiences are too stupid to deal with realistic science fiction and think "Star Wars" qualifies. but it's really struggling as an "adult animation" production. I'm not sure if this was pitched as a live action or not but it doesn't have any reason to be animated except budget. not sure what else Max network has going on these days but you can't help but see a real show with proper production sort of superimposed on top of the simplistic and frankly boring animated backdrop. that's a real shame. they tried to split the difference by styling the drawings very buttoned-down, but it has none of the design sense of even Rick and Morty and it isn't funny enough for the writing to stand on its own, so theres just not a lot to hold onto.

the serious plot that kicks in at episode 5 reminds me a hell of a lot of the recent walking simulator, The Invincible, an adaptation of Stanislav Lem's story by the same name, with a really good surface of Mars sequence and excellent soundtrack, so I hope that's the direction the show is taking now.

it makes me think about the actual logistics and expense of filming something like this with practicals and some CGI. one of the benefits of doing something like realistic space station or mars colony stories is that you can build an incredibly cramped set and film everything on it, Cube-style, because these colonies would be modular and extremely cramped, just like NASA infrastructure is now. you could really go crazy styling a very beautiful set or soundstage that was only a few connected rooms and corridors and then just recycle them intelligently. outdoor shots in the local desert, composite out any plant life, roads, or gas stations, grey out the sky. Fired on Mars has blue sky and big cumulus clouds and initially I wasnt sure if that's referencing some sort of atmospheric control by the colony or if they screwed up or if it was focus group/producer meddling, but I looked it up and the actual Martian sky is more complicated than I assumed:

Since Mars is roughly 1.5 astronomical units from the Sun, the amount of light on the surface is about half that on our planet. Under low illumination conditions, our eyes shift sensitivity towards blue because we change from using color-sensitive “cone” cells to color-blind “rod” cells. This is known as the Purkinje effect. Hence, the first astronaut to land on Mars would probably describe its sky as even bluer than one might expect.

so anyway I think the show is ok. I stopped after watching episode 5 to write this, since this episode has taken the show in a much more interesting direction than I saw in the previous four. maybe it'll pleasantly surprise me

[copperpipes]

What’s going on in your after dark AU

I think of it more as a post-movie fic in comic form with a bunch of worldbuilding headcanons but anyways

After Dark is the name of the comic, I've planned two parts, two arcs.

We are just entering the first arc of the comic! Backyard fairies!

Its the farmhouse arc that was present in both the 2003 and 2012 iterations (I've watched both) in which the turtles (try to) heal after a big event, be it a failure or a victory. The surroundings of the farmhouse hold many mysteries, because the hamatos will never catch a break :/ poor guys

The parts of the arc will be more just like little one shots with a thin plot connecting them like in the show instead of the plot being the main focus, it thickens towards the end but overall I'm more exploring the world and the characters and what they've been through.

The main characters in this arc would be Mikey, April, Donnie and Casey because Raph and Leo got the film. Splinter and Draxum won't appear in this arc to deal with the aftermath in the hidden city because they believed the boys would be safe away from it (of course they were wrong). Cassandra has a clan of middle-schoolers to run in new york which was put on lock down, so she too in the end won't be able to visit :[

The episodes would be like this:

Mikey in wonderland- the focus is Mikey, he goes to explore the woods a bit because his arms ache and he needs a distraction.

Target practice- the focus is April, the exploration of her role in the predicament the hamatos are stuck along with a small theme of feminism and her being a part of the clan.

Five easy steps to build a tree house- the focus is Casey, he lost his home, and he realizes the turtles he grew up with are gone with it too, also a glimpse of his past and birth.

Its the IRS! but they're not after Donnie?- amateur timestress tries to impress her mentor, and draggs Mikey with her into the mess.

Germophobia- Mikey drags Donnie into the woods to meet someone he met there. Donnie isn't a fan.

Thats it for the first arc I think. There will be smaller stuff in between that'll show the details, how Raph and Leo are doing, what is up in NY and the HC (hidden city).

The second arc is the infamous tmnt space arrrrc

It'll be called star sailor ✨ the main focus in it will be Donnie :D it'll include the triceratons, fugitoid, many aliens and a lot of existential crisis :'] i think it'll be much more angsty and philosophical then the first arc and ooh can't forget the amount of body horror I've planned >:D

Man I should really make a masterpost

[susandsnell]

You watched Joker 2: How the Joker got his Groove Back? Do tell, because I’m not watching it lmaooooo

hi maggie i love u. so i was having a progressive mental breakdown trying to write this the last few days and today, I slipped forwards and fell backwards walking to the restroom from my own kitchen and fell onto my back and smacked my head on the floor really loudly (i'm okay for now dw), and i think the slapstick is a sign to answer this question, while subsequent looney tunes esque possible injuries an appropriate tone for this shitshow. I also think the fall damaged my brain less than this movie did, but I'm nothing if not a glutton for punishment when it comes to viewing experiences. let's go.

as a consummate disliker of the first film, my expectations were low, but holy fuck. i was pleased in the schadenfreude sense when we first got the announcement that the premise for the sequel was a musical with Lady Gaga as Harley with how alienating to the fanbase of the first this was, and when trailers emerged I was prematurely annoyed but cautiously optimistic for at least some good musical numbers and maybe some creative imagery.

well. this movie rips off The Room.

spoilers below the cut, trigger warning for mentioned but not graphically discussed police brutality/prison violence (physical + sexual), ableism, misogyny.

gott im himmel, what is there even to say.

so the opening is - actually good. having the rights to warner brothers, they open with the merrie melodies theme with Joker's face popping into frame and an old-school animated recap of the talkshow sequence from the first flick, which was actually a great idea...until the whole premise of the cartoon, and later, the legal defense, ends up being that either the Joker takes on a life of his own outside of Arthur or, as the defense will later posit, the Joker is a DID alter. This is not handled well, at all.

the movie is basically an ugly, dingy, confused, feverish bottle episode that makes me retroactively appreciate the first more for its pretty exciting third act and grounded Gotham City; our locations are a very very boring Arkham , and the courtroom drama as Arthur Fleck is brought to justice for his actions in the first movie. While incarcerated, he has both haters and fans in the prison population, including a young fanboy who is dared by the guards to kiss him, and who he kisses tenderly on the mouth early on, because quoth Todd Phillips, "the Joker is bisexual and stuff." diversity win!!!! this will matter later.

after several unhappy renditions of When The Saints Go Marching In, Arthur meets Harleen Quinzel, mercifully nicknamed 'Lee' in this version so we can easily dissociate her from our favourite harlequin. He finds her at Arkham Asylum glee club rehearsal, which is apparently a thing, and immediately put me in mind of Bialystock and Bloom putting on Prisoners of Love in Sing Sing, and she eagerly tells him she's a huge fan of the Joker as an abused child of poverty herself, and that she avidly watched the TV movie made about his exploits, which was fantastic. (This TV movie will come back later. It's possibly further self-flagellation on the part of Todd Phillips, which is amusing.)

anyway, the choir practice meet cute is important because it flimsily sets up the rest of the film being a musical. because he loves Lee, and she sings music, and therefore if Lee = an escape for Arthur, music is an escape for Arthur too! much thoughts! society. they also watch some old hollywood musicals together on their arkham dates. I don't know.

so regarding the musical numbers. the worst part is that they didn't let gaga sing properly in the movie??? like they made her and phoenix sing badly on purpose as ~character choices~ because it ~fits the characters~ and half the fantastic-looking performances from the leaks a few months ago were cut because musical movies are cockshy now about committing to the medium. instead we get bored white woman dancing from everyone, except for two good numbers, and breathy, off-key and off-rhythm jukebox renditions of everything from Sweet Charity to The Carpenters. a good 40% of the songs are arthur being questioned or something and just bursting into it while everyone looks bewildered, with only a handful of fantasy sequences, when the easiest thing to do given the courtroom drama setup would've been to just rip off Chicago and call it a day, would've been unoriginal but cogent, but instead we're treated to endless tedium and talented singers performing poorly. is there a way to blame this all on tom hooper? because i feel like this is all somehow tom hooper's fault.

this one will really piss you off - Harvey Dent is there and they did him filthy! he's prosecuting the case against Arthur Fleck, and they made him a smirky little twink and did fuck all with him except 'punchable on purpose' because he's The Man and The Man is keeping poor trod-upon Arthur Fleck down. but The Man pales in comparison to the true villain of this movie - women!!!!!

despite trying to deconstruct the incel following and give a middle finger to a lot of the nerdbros who wrongfully worshipped the first one, this movie is somehow a lot more overtly sexist than the first? every woman in this movie is Wronging arthur. his lawyer is an older woman who's going for the insanity defense with completely misrepresented DID (i'll cut her slack in that it's set in the 80s) but is apparently framed as condescending/exploiting his tragedy publicly when like, literally what is she supposed to do to try and get him acquitted for his crimes in the first movie, and it's not like she's trying to get famous for it (or is she? didn't come off from what I saw). she's genuinely being as empathetic as possible and still presented as condescending, and arthur fires her to self-represent in court -- dressed as the joker. more details about penny fleck being much more abusive than shown from the first movie are revisited to...i guess justify her murder more? zazie beetz is back as sophie to prove he didn't kill her but she's framed as deeply unsympathetic for believing arthur's abuser, penny, over him bc apparently she talked shit to the neighbours, when sophie has like, every reason to be afraid of this guy who was talking to her young child and broke into her apartment under the delusion they were together and then later that night going on a killing spree. and then her role in the story got added to the tv movie (which she reveals, to arthur's heartbreak, sucks) but the movie frames her as this judgmental ableist heartless meanie because she's not empathetic to the man who traumatized her and endangered her daughter.

this is juxtaposed to gary, arthur's clown temp agency coworker from the first film who he spared because of his kindness, who gets another one of the only good scenes in the film as he recounts how deeply witnessing arthur's murders broke him -- a sympathy not afforded to that stuck-up witch sophie. shoutout to leigh gill, it's the film's best and powerful performance....undercut by joaquin making the Choice that the joker, self-representing and cross-examining a witness, would spend a solid 20 minutes doing a Humble Southern Lawyer I do Declare bit that had me cringing out of my skin.

and then, of course, there's Lee. so basically they went the telltale batman route where it's subverted of the classic mad love dynamic -- she's the one playing him, but they did it worse because todd phillips doesn't really grasp like, character beyond Bad Things Happening Make People Do Bad Things and also Women Aren't People, so her sob story is false, her parents are rich and alive and she's a psychiatry Ph.D who voluntarily committed to arkham out of parasocial obsession with The Joker. this would be cool in the women's wrongs way if and i mean IF she had any coherent reason beyond "crazy bitches" and being a groupie of who he became on the talkshow.

and then for some reason the movie decides to wholesale lift plot points from The Room. Lee is allowed to see Arthur after one of his many drawn-out gratuitous beating scenes at the hands of Brendon Gleeson's Arkham guard Jackie Sullivan (kind of a Lyle Bolton type), whereupon she puts his clown makeup on and fucks him as the Joker, as you do. when she's 'released' (really, she leaves), she sees him in visitation to tell him she's pregnant with a little baby clown, which motivates him through the rest of the trial. it's of course clear and later revealed that she lied about the pregnancy. since the film is not interested in giving Lee any real motives beyond Crazy Flaky Bitches Am I Right (her transformation into Harley is never named and consists of clown cosplays worn to court), it's never really clear why she faked the pregnancy, which made me immediately think less of Roxie Hart and more Lisa from The Room saying "To make things interesting". like she already had him on the hook from what it seems, there didn't need to be a fake clown baby!!!!

if you've made it this far, here's where it goes from bad to "oh fuck off". please mind the trigger warnings I listed above.

after going on society rant part 2582342572473423995324324932592394293, Arthur shittalks the Arkham guards on TV. this results in Jackie et al not only beating him but -- non-graphically, but it is completely clear before and after the scene this was the intent -- SA'ing him. After which they murder an inmate sympathetic to Arthur for singing to him. none of this is engaged with meaningfully, none of this is textually addressed, none of this has any real narrative weight beyond Arthur being "broken" during his trial and flubbing the case, renouncing being the Joker. I don't have to say how unbelievably offensive just throwing this shit in is and handling it with about as much care as can be expected from the director of Hangover 2.

so Arthur flubs the case and Lee, along with the rest of his fanbase, storm out of the courthouse, disappointed, much in the way audiences are doing in theatres. but the stans camped outside the courthouse pull a Matt Reeves Riddler and plant carbombs around the perimeter, killing everyone in the jury, burning Harvey Dent's face (DO YOU GET IT???) and two cosplayer juggalos rescue Arthur and they drive off echoing the cop car scene in the first movie. but Arthur doesn't want to be the Joker anymore! he escapes the car and returns to the Joker steps, which the film has already returned to in fantasy lke 10 times. He finds Harley - Lee there, and she tells him coolly that she’s really disappointed he’s not the joker because she loves the joker and not Arthur. She does half a musical number while he begs her to stop singing which made me LOL because shrek and then the cops show up and arrest him and not her.

when we next see Arthur, he's in Arkham awaiting the electric chair. He gets called to go see a visitor and walks alone down a hall, somehow unsupervised on the way to visitation. That young, twinky inmate that kissed Arthur earlier in the movie and senpais him runs up and begs Arthur to let him tell him a joke. And it’s this longwinded bit of incoherence about a “psychopath and a killer clown who let him down walk in the bar, and the psychopath says what can I get you” but the punchline is, of course, “you get what you fucking deserve” and the fanboy shivs him in the gut repeatedly. It cuts to a dying fantasy of a parody sonny and Cher show with joker and Harley singing and finishing their act, then back to a lingering closeup on Arthur bleeding out alone in the Arkham corridor while the twink laughs hysterically, implying the next Joker riseth. Roll credits.

to quote my friend Peter, "having the new Joker play gay chicken with the old joker is cinema".

but all seriousness, save for a few goofy moments here or there or "oh my god, they're really doing this", the movie is boring as sin. which is quite the feat given it's a musical with Lady Gaga as Harley, but when it wasn't boring it was a shockingly offensive mishandling of serious issues that was also a pointless rehash of the events of the first film, not just as a middle finger to those who liked it, but a middle finger to people who like musicals, Batman, DC, and maybe even film as a whole.

just please, please, do yourself a favour and stream Harlequin (Lady Gaga's tie-in album) instead. Mother Monster ate.

[the-osborn-way]

Ghostface ranking please n thank you

OH MY GOD YES YES YES I LOVE RANKING ALL THE GHOSTIES

My ranking of all 15 Ghostfaces so far (yes.... I'm including Jason and Greg because if I don't, SOMEBODY'S gonna bitch about it I know--)

SPOILERS AHEAD FOR ALL 6 SCREAM FILMS

Rankings under the cut

Stu Macher (Scream)

The BEST Ghostface to ever Ghostface. A BIT underrated just because people will sometimes give Billy more credit. But like- hot man. Has no actual motive for killing, Billy was like "Hey, dude, let's kill people" and he literally needed nothing more. Thought up of some of the key parts of their plan, definitely gutted Casey and Steve, probably put Kenny on the van by himself (Billy wasn't around, so-) . Definitely top 3 or 4 strongest Ghosties to date. And the humor-- okay, I could go ON AND ON about Stu, but I'll stop here. Matthew Lillard really took the character from boring in the script to one of the only parts of the original film me and my mother (who's TERRIFIED of horror films and would rather forget them) remembered from our first watch when I was 13. (She said she'll never forget his laugh and that she hates him. ... She then got me a t-shirt of him not 3 weeks later for Christmas. Sorry, Mom-) Great job, man! Stu stole my heart, LOTS of my money, and a large part of my brain, so it's safe to say he'll always be my fave and an icon in my eyes. (Literally wearing my Stu shirt as I type this, what a fun coincidence LOL-)

2. Charlie Walker (Scream 4)

I said what I said. People either adore Charlie or despise him, and I love him DEARLY. Yes, he's very attractive, but on top of that, he racks up one of the highest kill counts by a single Ghostface alone in the entire franchise, beaten only by Roman, I believe. From Olivia Morris, which was obviously his kill, to tossing Rebecca Walters off a building, to Jenny and Marnie... definitely Robbie... Kirby... Kate Roberts... man just went crazy with the kills, and I respect it. He had loyalty, some great lines, a HILARIOUS deleted scene ( ), and he kept cool under pressure, never revealing himself until absolutely necessary. Do I relate to him? Yep. Is that bad? Probably, but I love him anyways.

3. Jill Roberts (Scream 4)

Another maybe controversial ranking, but I love Jill! I think her motive is fantastic, the way that she uses Charlie to get what she wants, and as someone who has acted innocent in situations where I'm definitely not, her acting is spot on. I never thought about it being her until her reveal, and it's still one of my favorites of all time. She is also, I believe, the Ghostface who got closest to the goal of killing Sidney and getting away with it, so congrats, girl! You had the whole world fooled till the hospital! She's a great take on what I think is the modern version of Billy Loomis, and she nailed the innocent act, truly. Did she kill anyone? Probably, but I can't think of anyone who I know is 100% a Jill Kill. Either way, good for her for not getting her hands dirty, or FOR getting her hands dirty! Impressive no matter what in my mind.

4. Billy Loomis (Scream)

Dont worry, Billy fans, he's still in my top 5! The only reason he's not my third is because I think he's just a BIT overrated. If the movies weren't constantly making him seem like he was the only killer and completely alienating Stu (I think there's a reason for that, but I won't explain that here), then I'd put him above Jill. I know that's a weird reason, but it's my reason. Billy is a fantastic manipulator who knew how to get exactly what he wanted from Sid, and also was a repressed drama queen, which I relate to a lot. While Stu was openly crazy, Billy hid behind the stone cold semi-facade. I don't think Billy would ever have gotten as crazy as Stu did, but he definitely showed the drama in several ways that make me smile and laugh every time. Falling down a flight of stairs? Fucking up Stu's couch cushions? Comedy gold every time. I give Billy credit for stabbing Casey, killing Himbry, and killing Tatum. I think the rest were Stu's because of the gutting and where Billy was at the time. I also think he killed Maureen, so a nice 4ish kills for him! Anyways, top tier Ghostie, another one I'll always respect respect and love.

5. Amber Freeman (Scream 5)

I'm gonna be honest, I hated her when I first watched Scream 5. Hated Richie too, but he's still terrible. Fuck him. I thought Amber was a trashy, third rate version of Stu that was extremely fake and her turn from cold to goofy seemed extremely forced. Then I took a deep dive and figured out why. (If you want a full explanation, let me know, I'm trying to stay short here.) So I believe that Richie is this movie's Stu and Amber is the movie's Billy. From her plans, her using the house, just her very cold, calm demeanor in the beginning, she just gives Billie energy, while Richie is just... well, he's the Netflix guy. He makes jokes left and right. But Amber, I think she was trying to be the Stu while Richie was trying to be the Billy. Everyone forgets that Stu was a boyfriend too, (Billy's) Tatum's boyfriend. Amber was supposed to be Tara's girlfriend in the original script. So now, I see her third act as more of her desperate attempt to look like her idol instead of sticking with the persona that served her well for the rest of the film. That really made me appreciate her more, and made her feel even underutilized, as did the Macher house. (I LOVE THAT HOUSE. I LOVE IT. Well, the actual actual house, not the Scream 5 version.) So yeah. Amber was a cold blooded killer trying to be just like the Macher before her, even if that wasn't the part she was meant to play in her movie. Taking credit for Dewey's kill? Absolutely. She was in the cult and she just wanted to piss Gale off by saying she did it. Fantastic lines, wonderful creep factor! Her death- *chef's kiss* Lovely homage to Sidney shooting Billy. And that's my top 5!

6. Quinn Bailey (Scream 6)

The only member of that damn family who did a good job killing. Richie included. Funny? Check. Didn't see her coming? Check. Ruthless? Double check. I don't think she did Gale's attack either, I think that just like Amber, she took the blame for someone else's work just to keep them hidden. Besides that, she was a good character, someone you thought was long gone until she wasn't. Bonus points for her saying Stu was her fave and definitely being the one to stab Mindy on the subway. Maybe not the greatest Ghostie ever, certainly low on kills, but I enjoy watching her a lot.

7. Nancy Loomis, aka "Debbie Salt" (Scream 2)

Another hidden killer who deserved more screen time after her reveal, and more backstory. I love her motive of "good, old-fashioned revenge", and I can see her killing Randy out of rage. Killing Mickey? Nice way to keep things in her favor! Debbie Salt was eh. Don't remember her much tbh- I would've liked to see Nancy more as herself, she just had great potential. Did she take some kills? Absolutely. Got her hands dirty to honor her son. But that's what I don't like. She leaves Hank, then suddenly after Billy dies, she's like the best mother ever?? Killing for the son SHE left?? Her leaving is the reason Scream happened, paired with Maureen and Hank's infidelity-- that's why she's a solid 7 in my book, and the best of the worst. Only goes downhill from here, folks.

8. Mickey Altieri (Scream 2)

GREAT in the Act 3. Other than that? Um... he was okay, I guess? He had some funny lines, but where I really like him is in the possibility possibility of what he's done. He definitely killed for Nancy, he was insane and just wanted people to see him that way. He DID talk to Matthew Lillard in the background of the sorority party... Mickey and Stu working together?? His Act 3 was good, he showed he could be a good Ghostface, scared Sidney, killed Derek... but that's where this ranking and my positive comments about him stop.

9. Wayne Bailey (Scream 6)

Classic parent who wants revenge, angry, pulls it off decently. He has some good moments, funny, a definite suspect, and nowhere near as good a cop as Dewey. Points for trapping the Core 4 (minus Mindy) and Kirby in the second coolest location in the franchise, but that's where my positivity stops. Sam killed him easy, he was a shit parent until Richie died I bet. Did he get his kids to murder? Oh yeah, I think he's the one who made this whole plan up with Quinn and Ethan's help. He doesn't really stand out. Did he kill?? Even wear the fucking mask?? I honestly don't think so. I would put him lower, but compared to the next three... yeah, he's fine at 9.

10. Richie Kirsch (Scream 5)

WHYYYY. WHY. The only goof thing I can say is that like 5 of his lines made me laugh, and he also hates Stab 8. Me too, dude, that looks BAD. Motive? Pretty good, solid movie motive, getting with Sam to get the job done. Ruthless? Yeah. But he's sloppy. He's a Stu without the magic, just trying to make a movie. Him dating Amber?? *vomits* KILL ME NOW. He was 100% manipulated by her, I know he was. A sad attempt of Billy Loomis that leaned more towards Stu, and his cheesy shit throughout the film made his "true colors" seem kinda dull and not very scary. I don't like him. I don't.

11. Ethan Landry [Bailey] (Scream 6)

Like father, like sons!- all in my least favorite 5 of legitimate Ghostfaces. How much screen time did he have?? Not enough. Innocent guy, "I was in Econ!" to "HAHAHA I'M INSANE NOW!!"? I hate it. His transition was too forced, he was bland and stupid, his attempts at faking his knowledge about everything were embarrassing and made him look worse as a character. The easiest Ghostface to spot. I don't know, I mean I get people like him because he's insane and attractive, but I don't. Sorry to all of you who love this guy and his family. His best scene? When Tara stabbed him in the mouth. You go, queen!!

13. Roman Bridger (Scream 3)

Fuck. FUCK. I hate him, I hate this movie, I hate it all. His motive is pretty solid, I actually like it a lot... but he was stuck up, whiney, and underutilized. Like Ethan, low screen time, unbelievable shift from loser to villain- did he even share a scene with Sid?? Talk to her?? And this makes Billy and Stu look like lackeys. I HATE IT. I would've much rather had the Stu leading a Ghostface cult film, but I know why they went this route instead, and I respect that. Like Ethan, the best part about him, and of this movie, is his death. Dewey missing his head like 5ish times before finally hearing Sid and going for the head Thor in Endgame style?? Comedy. GOLD. I love Dewey Riley. But yeah, I just don't like Roman at all. His strengths are his motive, his INSANE kill count (I think he had an accomplice.), and his physical strength. Besides those? Useless. Sorry, Roman die-hards.

14. Jason Carvey (Scream 6)

Not bad for a Ghostface killed in the first 15 minutes. He had the makings of a good killer, definitely in the cult, but his time was just extremely short. Nothing much to say about him, but his only kill was a fantastic start to the film. I would put him higher, because I think he WAS a good Ghostface, but... 10 minutes or less of screen time? Sorry dude, don't know you well enough.

15. Greg (Scream 6)

Who?? Saw him a fridge. That's it. What's his last name, I don't remember- No screen time, not even alive on screen. Nothing more to say. He was probably pretty good though, if he was anything like Jason.

And there's my ranking of all 15 Ghostfaces!! If you want to add your own, feel free to below! If you wanna comment on mine, please be respectful, but I'd like to know why you don't like characters I do, or like ones I don't. If your faves are my faves, share!! I love finding new Scream buddies!! And thanks for listening if you made it this far, that was LONG.

[cellarspider]

12/30 Things come to a head

(Previous) | (Index) | (Next)

⛬

We return to that shambling mass of a film, Prometheus.

Content warnings for body horror, contagion-y stuff, something that could loosely be described as medical horror, It’s Been 0 Days Since Our Last Incident, and me, going on a ramble about movie gore to distract myself from The Madness.

There's a lady in this scene who's had a number of speaking lines so far–the maybe-chemist. She has a name, but it doesn’t matter.

But I'm going to call her Doctor Frankenstein.

They have just got the helmet off the head, revealing that it’s truly, unmistakably humanoid. They have noted that there are “new cells” on the head. In the business, we call that “decomposition”, but Doctor Frankenstein is not concerned with this. In fact, she immediately proposes a new plan.

Doctor Frankenstein has had the brilliant idea to plug a big cable into the head like it’s a guitar amp, and zap it with electricity to wake it up.

Yes. This is what the movie goes with.

You know, Alien included a similarly shambolic first examination of an alien subject, but it was performed because said alien was attached to a man’s face, and all they had to try and fix that was the contents of a cargo ship’s medbay, with the only qualified personnel being the corporate android who had been ordered to consider the crew expendable. The crew of the Prometheus has no such excuse.

Well, except for David, he has precisely the same excuse, but he’s not trying to poke wires in anybody’s ears.

Doctor Frankenstein calls for enough amperage to run three electric kettles (cite 3), then all the way up to two Titan RTX graphics cards before the head starts to get what appears to be a massive migraine. 

I know this expression well, migraines can feel very much like someone is subjecting me to unnatural horrors.

This is getting a little extreme, though. Yes, when the head starts pulsing, they realize they may have made a mistake. 

I’d say this was inexplicable behavior on their part, unbelievably hasty and foolish–and I will say it, actually, it deserves to be said. But in context, this is the team that did so little prep for entering the alien structure that they didn’t notice the giant fuckoff skull carved into the outside of it.

Knowing how much Shaw and Holloway read into the intentions of the Engineers from the depictions they found on Earth, they probably would’ve interpreted this as a good sign, somehow.

Anyway, they put a sneezeguard down over the head before it explodes.

Good job everyone. This is like what would’ve happened if Napoleon’s savants took one look at the Rosetta Stone and decided “maybe we should try hitting it with hammers. Surely that’ll make the knowledge fall out.”

From a horror perspective, this scene only works in two contexts: First, gross-out. Generally found in schlock, exploitation, and outsider art flicks, the tone of gross-out content can be highly variable, but there are two general trends I'd mention, which are of relevance to this movie.

First, gross-out tends to exist in that weird alternate space where lots of comedy movies do: characters will behave in unreasonable ways for no apparent reason. Within the film, this is treated as the universal norm, besides maybe a straight man character who highlights the absurdity. Gross-out is often like that, but pushes different boundaries of acceptable behavior than a traditional comedy.

This is, bafflingly, what Prometheus increasingly feels like. It feels like it's transitioning into gross-out schlock, and yet it never goes all the way.

Second: the audience for gross-out is largely self-selecting. If you're watching John Waters' Pink Flamingos, you expect things to get messy. You are looking forward to things getting messy. A head exploding is perfectly par for the course in gross-out horror. One might even be disappointed if there wasn't an exploding head.

But again, this movie was not marketed on gross-out. It was marketed as a tense, Alien-esque horror movie. If you followed that premise like I did, you're not in the theater to view a debauched spectacle, you're there for the movie to put a well-paced squeeze on the characters and your nerves, where half the horror comes from having the room to really think about how frightening the core concepts of the series are.

Does Alien involve some shocking gore? Sure does! But in Alien, Kane's fate is not there to make you laugh and exclaim "ewww!" at how far the film's gone, the film tries to make you very aware of how horrifying his demise is.

So, there's an alternate way this scene works, if you're coming in from that perspective. I don't think the movie intended this as much as the gross-out, but it's what I drew from it at the time: the scene works if you decide not to focus your sympathies on the human characters at all, or even David, and think about it from the perspective of the head. 

It’s patently impossible that what they did actually “woke up” the brain inside that skull. But if we sink to the movie’s level and entertain the idea for a moment, what in the hell have they just done to this Engineer? The last thing the head would’ve remembered was running, falling, decapitation, and then this. They just tortured this poor bastard for no adequately explained reason. There’s none! “I think we can trick the nervous system into thinking it's still alive” is the entirety of the explanation. It makes about as much sense and seems as thoughtlessly violent as anything in Mad God (2021, content warning for body horror). 

I already spent all my anger about desecrating bodies in the name of shambolic pseudoscience, I have no more rage to give for now. And similarly in the theater, I hit my limit. I’d already hit a different limit back when they landed the Prometheus on top of some archaeology, but now I’d fully given up on this movie being what I’d hoped it would be. 

The maddening thing that keeps me obsessed with it is that it keeps throwing random scraps of that hypothetical movie into the mix anyway, bouncing me like a yo-yo between scenes. 

But for right now, the yo-yo is still on the descent. Having exploded the first sample of alien biology ever touched by science, they apparently stuck some of it in a generic, science-y DNA machine. What does the DNA machine tell them? 

“DNA match”. 

The movie does not actually explain what this means. It thinks it does, but in a very vague and handwave-y way that ends up being even more hilarious than if they’d just been out-and-out wrong. Because this is what I do for a living, I want to science at this for a bit. 

But I’ve written enough about it for an entire post on its own, so that will wait until next time.

⛬ 

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Citations for alt-text rambles, as well as some text-text rambles:

1. https://www.behance.net/gallery/78297841/Semiotic-Standard (contains a high-quality download for the symbols, should ye wish them for yourselves)

2. https://www.sculpturedepot.net/clay-wax-tools/product.asp?Steel_Tools 

3. Doctor Frankenstein calls for 30 amps first, then 40, then 50 in the space of several seconds. According to wikipedia, an electric kettle is about 16.6A, and a 288W high-performance graphics card would require 24A. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orders_of_magnitude_(current) That graphics card isn’t mentioned by name, but it matches up with the wattage reported by Tom’s Hardware for a Titan RTX (cite 4). Running with two of these things, you might be able to run 4k Ultra settings on some games without tanking your framerate. They could’ve been playing video games and seen way more exploding heads.

4. https://www.tomshardware.com/features/graphics-card-power-consumption-tested 

5. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alien_(film)#Design

6. https://www.reddit.com/r/MovieDetails/comments/f4rf63/for_the_chestburster_scene_in_alien_1979_the/

7. https://i.pinimg.com/736x/8e/2f/9b/8e2f9b0716746aac7ce5b2f369bf4082--aliens--scene.jpg

8. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Karyotype#Human_karyogram 

9. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Centromere 

10. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Centromere#Telocentric 

11. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/G_banding 

12. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Proteinogenic_amino_acid 

13. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hula_language

[ambiguousthoughtsinsilence]

Stalker and the need for a purpose

Modern mass culture, aimed at the 'consumer', the civilisation of prosthetics, is crippling people's souls, setting up barriers between man and the crucial questions of his existence, his consciousness of himself as a spiritual being. / A. Tarkovsky, Sculpting in Time

It is rare to encounter a work of film that fundamentally challenges the way a person views an art form  and what it is capable of doing. I first watched Stalker (1979) in the beginning of 2023, and it is probably the film that lingers in my mind the most. It combines the techniques of cinema, such as long shots and visually abstract imagery, with a poetic and often literary script. Stalker does not lend itself to simple, straightforward interpretations and explanations, rather it invites the viewer inside its own calm, meditative universe to explore the ideas of science, art, purpose, faith and desire.

By drawing from a rich spiritual foundation and Tarkovsky’s own outlook, it manages to move into the territory of a transcendent work of art, as the film evolves.  Yet it’s not explicitly religious or faith focused, making it a more compelling experience, unlike Andrei Rublev (1966), which is explicitly Christian in its nature. Whereas Stalker explores ideas of faith in the frame of a science-fiction film, making the nature of the film more inquisitive and reflective, and thus more compelling.  I have since watched the film two more times, each time with a growing admiration for it and its three main characters.  Through its beautiful script, the film has created a whole new adoration for faith as a driving force behind creating art.

The film is loosely based on a short novel Roadside Picnic by the Strugatsky brothers. The film  takes the key idea of the Zone from the novel - a mystical and strange place brought into existence by aliens - and the idea of stalkers, people who explore and guide others through this forbidden place, often at a cost to themselves. The book contains several journeys into the area and multiple characters, whereas the film only has the Stalker, his daughter and wife, and the Writer and the Scientist. In the film the destination is a room, in the book it is an object called the Golden Sphere.  By going into the Room, one is meant to have their innermost wishes fulfilled. Stalker serves as an excellent example of taking the key elements of a story, stripping away the unnecessary and creating something new in a different art form. 

The film starts with a sequence at the Stalker’s home, with his wife begging him not to go, however he goes anyway, leaving his family behind. He meets the Writer and the Scientist and after getting past the security measures, there is an extensive and hypnotizing long shot of them being on a railway cart, moving from the sepia coloured ordinary world into the vividly green and natural landscape of the Zone. It is a film that is almost three hours long, yet is composed of only 142 shots. Through utilising the function of the long shot,the camerawork makes the viewer immersed in the imagery by making the viewer focus and pay attention. Geoff Dyer has called the sequence of the film’s three main characters going into the Zone  ‘the greatest sequence in film history’. The sound design changes as the cart approaches the Zone and after a period of looking at the characters’ heads and hearing the clanking sounds of the trolley, the viewer, along with the three main characters, enters the Zone. 

  The Zone is lush and quiet, it’s a living landscape, containing hidden dangers that only the Stalker is capable of guiding people through. Throughout the film these dangers never truly materialize, they are only spoken about. This leads to many interpretations of what the Zone is meant to represent, with interpretations ranging from a post-nuclear fallout zone to life itself. 

I do not consider myself as a person of faith and have always avoided the label of spirituality, as I have often perceived it as oppositional to ideas of rationality. However in Stalker  spirituality and faith are presented in an almost spellbinding way, as a desire to resolve the tension between the human spirit / soul and the world that values the material and provable.  The dialogue between the Writer and the Scientist  is often confrontational and combative, each trying to prove their superiority to the other. However, in contrast to them, there is the Stalker’s character. He goes out and accompanies people in the Zone as that is the way he defines his purpose. Towards the end of the film, he gets accused of doing these incursions into the zone for selfish purposes by the Writer and the Stalker responds by saying : 

“Yes, you’re right, I’m a nit, I haven’t done anything in this world and I cannot do anything... And neither could I give anything to my wife! And I do not have any friends and I cannot have, but you cannot take what’s mine from me! Everything is already taken from me, there, on the other side of the barbed wire. All I have is here. Can you understand! Here! In the Zone! My happiness, my freedom, my dignity – everything’s here! For I lead the same as me in here, unhappy ones, suffering. They... They have no other hope left! And I – I am able to! Can you understand – I am able to help them! Nobody else can help them, but I, nit (shouts), I, nit, am able to! I am ready to shed tears of happiness that I am able to help them. That’s all! And I want nothing else.”

Tarkovsky once explained that for him the Stalker embodied the kind of character that he most wanted to be like out of the three men. He was someone the world saw as too weak, yet he was actually the strongest out of the three. He has a sense of faith, of purpose, one that is independent from the pressures of the modern world. He defines himself through his ability to provide hope to others, a life in the service of trying to lessen the suffering of other people.  And the purity of this portrayal of a life of devotion and clear purpose has stuck with me since I first saw the film. The Stalker is a poor man,living in bleak circumstances, yet, as he exclaims above, the Zone provides him with a space, where his mission is clear and he can help others. Upon returning home, he despairs that the people have lost their faith:

“ [..] nobody believes. Not only those two. Nobody! Whom should I lead in there? Oh, God... And the most terrifying thing is ... that nobody needs it anymore. And nobody needs that Room. And all my efforts are worthless!”

Stalker is a character, who embodies a childlike belief in the good and the possibility of humans to experience it. However, his despair comes from the fact that the commitment to the material, to ideas of success and glory (the Writer) and the purely rational (the Scientist) have led to the loss of belief, the idea that something more meaningful is possible, this breaks his heart, because, if that is the case, then what place does the world have for someone, whose reason for existing is to give others their ability to believe?

The film does not offer a neat answer to this question, it ends on an ambiguous and supernatural note, but having seen it three times, I cannot help but explore questions of faith, belief and meaning within myself a lot more and through that Tarkovsky has definitely achieved his stated purpose - to create a work of art that serves a higher spiritual purpose.

[punkshort]

it is crazy to me that this already long af movie does not manage to make us give more of a shit about the characters! i'm not sure if you saw around the time it came out, but apparently they cut out several marcus and lucilla scenes that would have made the narrative so much more complete? like apparently a few crucial exchanges between them were edited out and one scene between them after [redacted] was cut out, all of which would have helped us feel more invested. they also cut out a whole ass character played by may calamawy to shorten the runtime but based on the script (this is all from reddit lmao) so much more stuff re: denzel and paul would have felt more complete if she was included. even that honestly seems sus..... feel like there were other reasons she was cut out too but will not get into that because political..... and of course pedro is gracious and perfect and kind still includes her in the social media posts about the film's production because she was that involved throughout filming despite being fully cut from the film. i get that the original cut was four hours and that is sorta insane and i know people are getting fed up with how long movies are these days, but idk they could probably got it down to three hours and still kept these critical scenes if ridley scott wasn't so obsessed with CGI... this is how i feel about that francis ford coppola movie that came out last year too, megalopolis... like how did the guy who created the godfather and apocalypse now create this total piece of shit BAD movie that clearly is also just like messing around with what you can do with CGI? same goes here... how did the guy who created three of pedro's top all time movies, which are VERY good movies like alien and blade runner and thelma & louise, create this subpar product that had sooooo much money and time and resources go into it? do people really just completely lose the plot and all good taste after they've reached their pinnacle and are allowed to do whatever tf they want now? i am so sorry for how long this is but i'm going to press ask and run away anyway.........

I don't really know what the answer is other than they crammed too many big names in and tried to give them all equal footing with their own arc without enough time and it just didn't work for me. I'm sure some people loved it but I think, for me, it's another case of "maybe not every awesome movie needs a sequel". The fight scenes were good but the blood even looked comically fake. I don't know... like I said, I had fun watching pretty men and women but it didn't make an impact like the first one did. Oh, well! Here's hoping Pedro's next movie is a little better 🥴

[devilsskettle]

the 2011 fright night remake is actually such a good adaptation in the ways that it re-contextualizes the style, themes, and character archetypes of the original movie from 1985 to fit the time in which it was made. obviously the biggest differences are the way that the vampire and the “vampire killer”/actor are characterized, but there are major differences in the characterizations of the main character’s girlfriend, his weird friend, and his mom that reflect high school drama tropes that were dominant in pop culture in the 2010s as well as some ways that the audience stand-in teenage male main character is framed that reflects ideas about the fraught nature of coming of age, especially wrt gender and sexuality. and both movies are responding to the prevalent types of horror movies being made at the same time (never let them tell you that horror wasn’t “self aware” until 1996 lol). all things considered, i think the original is a more fun, more memorable movie, and i think the adaptation has a hard time finding its audience because it alienates fans of the original by virtue of having such different sensibilities but also idk if it competes that well with similar movies that came out around the same time wrt reception by more contemporary audiences who aren’t necessarily familiar with the original movie. and like many movies from the 2010s, it hasn’t aged super well in terms of style and special effects (although, to be fair, i’d argue the same for the original film, which just feels and looks so quintessentially 80s, just the new one feels and looks so quintessentially 2010s). i like it a lot though, it’s fun, it’s funny, it’s suspenseful, it’s entertaining, and the acting is genuinely good. it was kind of formative for me as a teenager discovering the horror genre for the first time, it will always remind me of staying up until 3 am watching whatever was interesting on late night tv. and chris sarandon does have a cameo in it which is iconic. anyway i started to write a full breakdown of how each character is adapted for the 2010s and why the setting works so well and why i think it’s been kind of lost in the static of remake reboot sequel prequel everything even though it’s honestly a pretty interesting remake that imo justifies its own existence as a remake. but that seemed like a lot of work for something that nobody is going to read lol