#quicksilver with a not-so-quick edit

[thou-shall-fucketh-off]

let it be said that fox made quicksilver too op in the movies and that I will forever cherish him

[dinogoofymutated]

Please, when u have the time, more Pietro stuff 😭😭😭 ur writing for him is excellent and I need more!! Headcanons, stories, idc I just need more Quicksilver written by u.

Enemies to lovers!Quicksilver/GN!reader - pt 2

Here's part 1

It's finally here!! I'm sorry if there are any spelling mistakes. Also, I think the ending is probably the most dialogue heavy scene I've done so far, and I'm not entirely happy with it, but i wanted to post this so bad!! I might go back and edit later though. Hope you all enjoy!! TWS: Fighting, passive aggression, full on aression kinda, logan is a worried asshole big brother, Professor X watching his tragedy not quite repeat. Pietro is kinda an ass but he's a broken ass so its okay.

You and Pietro had a weird relationship. And it seemed to just spiral into even weirder territories and murkier waters. Each and every interaction tiptoed into something a little more than just enemies, and one night you think the two of you fully crossed the line. You were sure of it, and it was just the start.

    You’re finally starting to fall asleep when there’s a sudden whoosh of air and grunt of pain. It startles you, and you sit straight up in bed, leaning over to flicker on the light. When your eyes finally adjust, you see Pietro standing by the window, hunched over in clear distress.

    “Pietro? What are you doing here?” You ask, But he doesn’t respond. His suit is ripped and bloody, and various deep cuts litter his skin. You swear he’s about to pass out as he stands in front of you, swaying just a little like he did on that day at the beach. Whatever fight he had just been through, it had taken a little more out of him than that fast metabolism could heal so quickly. 

    “Are you okay?” You ask, wide-eyed at him. Pietro grimaces in a way that looks more angry than it does pained, and yet he still says nothing. Unable to deal with the idea of admitting he needs help, you assume.

    He’s sitting on your bed now, naked from the waist up as you stitch his wounds. He’s been silent the whole time, only offering a wince or grunt every now and then with particularly tender wounds. Right now you’re on your knees as you stitch up a rather deep cut on his upper side, his arms keeping his balance as he leans back on your bed.

    “Do you wanna talk about it?” You ask eventually. Pietro’s chest pulls on the stitches just a little as he huffs in annoyance, regretting the action a moment too late.

    “If I did, I would be.” He snaps. You raise an eyebrow at him as you begin a new stitch, piercing the skin perhaps a tad less cautious than you had been before.

    “Take it easy, speedster. ‘Last time I checked I was the one with the needles in my hand.” You snark. Pietro has nothing more to say to that, instead turning his head away so that he doesn’t have to look at you. It doesn’t take a genius to know he’s a bit embarrassed at this whole situation, and you feel a bit bad for him. Out of all the places he could have gone to, there had to be a reason he chose to come here. You just couldn’t tell what that reason was. 

    You’re gentle while you finish wrapping him in bandages, and he can’t seem to look you in the eyes even for a second. When you reach out to brush some dirt off of his face, he finally meets your eyes. He’s a little less guarded than he was before, but the wall between the two of you still remains. There's a quick gust of wind as he moves towards the open window, stopping just before he leaves.

    “...Thank you.” He says after a moment, looking at you from the corner of his eye. You smile at him, a warm feeling in your chest. The difference in his attitude was noticeable, and the fact that he was acting even a little less cold with you was reassuring.

    “You’re welcome.” You reply, and then he’s gone again, having closed the window behind him this time.

The difference between the two sides of Pietro you saw was so jarring. You were so used to the cocky asshole that spent all his effort in terrorizing you, not the quiet, almost angry, and guarded man that stood before you that night- and the many nights afterward.

The second time he showed up, this time woundless and simply laid on your bed to rant, you were surprised but didn’t mind it. Then it happened again, and again, and then came the board games, the nights of talking endlessly, and the midnight snacking. 

And eventually, Pietro started to climb into your bed. He never spoke a word when he did, simply pulling back the covers and pulling you close, pressing his face into the back of your neck. Nights like this were vulnerable, and tender. Quiet. He came to you in need of comfort often, and you were willing to be his safe space for as long as he wanted.

The more he came to you, hurt or angry or sad, the more concerned you became. And you were upfront about it, much to his dismay.

     “You know, I get that we’re on two different sides of things- but you know that the school’s doors are always open to those who need it, right?” You ask, late one night after he had crawled into bed by your side. You were facing him, hand curling on the pillow an inch away from his face, fighting the urge to brush his bangs away from his forehead. Immediately, he has a negative reaction to it. He scowls, recoiling away from you as he glares. You know it should hurt worse than it does, but all you can see is the hurt he's feeling right now.

    “The last thing I need is for another person to tell me what to do.” He snaps, turning his head away from you as he sits up and runs his hand through his hair, aggravated. You sit up on the bed a little further, almost wanting to reach for him, but you don’t.

    “Pietro, You know that’s not what I meant-” You say, softy.

    “Does it matter what you meant?” Pietro practically cuts you off. His tone is sharp, and it hurts you for a second. You frown at him- not that he could see it anyway, and the hurt quickly turns to aggravation on your end.

    "Yes, it does. I'm not bossing you around, I'm just telling you that the X-men- myself included- are here if you need any help." You huff, watching as he practically rolls his eyes at you and stands, looming over the bed as he turns to look at you.

    "The telling part is the problem. Everyone tells me that I could do something, but what they mean is that I should do it." He snaps. You move over to his side of the bed before standing, almost in a challenge. The two of you are now almost uncomfortably close, to the point where you’re sure if you moved an inch your noses would be touching.

    "Well, What if that's not what I’m doing but you're just reading it that way?" You say, meeting his gaze. Pietro was never one to back down from a confrontation, especially not one with you. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him quite this angry at you before, rocky past be damned.

    "So you’re saying I'm overanalyzing?" He says, and you groan at the fact that nothing you said was getting through to him, pushing the palms of your hands into the outer edge of your eye sockets. 

    "I'm saying that I'm not your dad-" 

    "And what would you know about my family?!" Pietro yells, and you’re quick to look back up at him, scowling. 

    "Don't raise your voice at me!” You snap, pushing a finger into his chest. “I know enough to know that your dad controls every aspect of what you do, and that's not fair to you." You tell him.

    "Don't pretend that you understand or care about any of that" Pietro says, grabbing ahold of your hand rather tightly. God! You did not understand why he couldn’t get it through his thick fucking skull!

    "I do care, Pietro!" The words burst out of you, almost uncontrollably. You slam your other fist into his chest, tears of frustration welling in your eyes as you look at him. His eyes are wide, looking shocked and confused. You’re beginning to lose your fight, leaning against his chest, still somewhat caught in his grip despite the fact that his hold on your hand had become light, and still, it felt confining. 

    "I may not understand why you do what you do, but I do care about you." Your words come out quieter this time, blinking away those stupid tears that had started to well. Pietro’s eyebrows are furrowed, eyes searching your own, but you don't know what for. The two of you stand there for what feels like forever for both of you speedsters, but was surely more like a split second. You’re still pressed up against his chest, faces so close they could touch.

    And then they did.

    Pietro is the first to kiss you, leaning in and quickly cupping the back of your neck with his free hand, almost in a possessive manner. Once his thoughts have finally caught up with his actions, he pulls back. He looks at you, wide-eyed at his own actions before you gently pull him back in for another kiss. It only takes a moment to click before he sighs into you, melting into the kiss. His kisses are tender, sweet presses of his lips against your own. After a few long moments, you slowly pull away from him. He rests his forehead against your own, a fond look in his eyes that you were sure you mirrored. 

From that night on, his nightly visits to you meant something more than they had in the past.

That didn’t mean that they went unnoticed by others, however, and one day you found yourself being called into the professor's study. Of course you were a little worried, but you were so sure that there was no way anyone could have noticed, right?

    Logan is standing next to the professor's desk when you enter the room, frowning with his arms crossed. Professor Xavier on the other hand sits rather calmly, inviting you to sit down. You choose to stand instead, cocking your head at them.

    “Wow. What is this, an intervention?” You joke, trying to laugh off the oddness of the situation.

    “Yup.” Logan snorts. You shoot him a confused and slightly panicked look that the professor picks up on immediately.

    “There’s no need to worry, my dear.” The professor says calmly. “We just had a few concerns about-” 

    “We know that Magneto’s brat has been sneaking into your room.” You almost flinch at Logan's accusatory tone, bristling with a sudden flash of embarrassment and then anger at him for what he calls Pietro. “I’ve been smelling his scent on you for weeks.” Logan finishes, and you’re so taken aback you don’t know what to say at first, mouth hanging open in shock.

    “Easy, Logan.” The professor says, raising an eyebrow at the furry man, but Logan isn’t listening, approaching you with a scowl on his face.

    “Have you ever heard the phrase, no fraternizing with the enemy, kid?” He continues, and the close contact has you bristling again, unwilling to back down.

    “Logan.” The professor tries again, unsuccessfully.

    “Look, the first time he came to me he was injured. I wasn’t going to turn him away.” You finally say, fists clenching as you ignore Logan before looking back at the professor instead.

    “I understand that. In fact, I’m thankful that you could be so forgiving towards Pietro, despite the past the two of you share.” The professor states, but his words hardly relieve you.

    “Then what is the problem?” You ask, exacerbated by this whole interaction already. Logan seems to be angry that you’re ignoring him but snorts at your question.

    “-The problem is that you shouldn’t be letting him in your knickers.” You gasp at Logan's accusation, and the professor looks appalled. 

    “Logan!” Professor X scolds as you struggle and scrabble for words, now both embarrassed, mortified, and rather flush in the face.

    “-Excuse you! We weren’t- we’ve never!” It’s a struggle to finally find your words, and even more embarrassing to be so caught off guard. What kind of asshole accuses someone of that out in the freaking open?! In front of your mentor no less?!

    “Sure you haven’t. That’s why your bed doesn’t smell like him.” Logan rolls his eyes, and you refrain from punching him in the face right then and there.

    “Well if your stupid nose was as good as you say it is, you would know that we haven't done anything just by the smell!”

    “Just because it hasn’t happened now-” 

    ENOUGH! Both of you! The professor silenced the argument with a single thought. Both you and Logan feel scolded, and yet still bitter about the other. You cross your arms in a bit of a defensive manner ad the two of you turn back to face the professor.

    “This was never supposed to be an argument, simply a conversation.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. You scoff at that, sending a pointed look in Logan’s direction.

    “Well maybe, Logan should learn to stay out of my business!” You say, only for the professor to hold his hand up for you to stop, simply hoping both you and Logan would quit continuing to dig this hole deeper and deeper.

    “I’ve heard enough.” Professor X states. “We were simply concerned about the nature of the relationship between the two of you, seeing that you have been growing closer. I know your mind, and I trust you to stay by the X-men’s side.”

    “Then what is this?” You ask, the words coming out as more of a whisper. Logan sighs, looking regretful but ever the stubborn ass. He looks at you, moving to where he can lean against the professor’s desk again.

    “... Look, Kid. we just don’t want you to get hurt. Anything between you and Pietro isn’t going to end well.” Logan says. You feel a little more understanding of him now, but only a bit, with him back to acting like he normally did. He was always an older brother figure to you, but that did not give him the right to air out your business, even if the professor could find out everything that had been happening with the barest glimpse into your mind. Still, you scowl just slightly at Logan, looking away from him. He sighs again, and with a nod from the professor, leaves the room. The professor nods you over to his side, wheeling his way towards the bookshelf with one particular photo on it. One of him and Magento in their college days.

    “You are an adult. I cannot stop you from making your own decisions.” The professor starts. You find yourself tracing the features of the young Erik, finding the image of Pietro in every part of his father's face. The professor looks at you, and all he can see is a face so similar to his own. “I too, understand what it is like to hold affection for someone so distantly aligned from you. It’s due to that understanding that I worry for you. I…” The professor trails off and you turn to look at him with a frown. You knew. You know. The two of you are so different from each other, but surely that didn’t mean you would be enemies forever? He wouldn’t hurt you in the way that Magneto had hurt the professor so many times before… would he? Professor Xavier reaches out to take your hand in both of his own, squeezing it reassuringly.

    “Just be careful, my dear.” 

    “I understand, professor.” 

[prismaticpichu]

Hi! How are you? Also, umm, can you make Zack Seph, like Zack does vlogging with his friend Seph, like add Funny, angst, happy ending, Protective Zack, please? I'm sorry if I bothered you. 🥺❤️♥️✨

Heya!!! I’m doing great, my friendo!! Hope all is well with you!! 💕

Ooooh vlogging???? Absolutely!!!

(BIG jumbo shoutout to @rottenpumpkin13’s series of SOLDIER vlogging shenanigans for inspiration!!!! Those things are frigging hilarious <333)

~

Nibelheim Fix-It: Vlogging Edition!

[the camera flashes on to reveal two Mako-blue eyes gazing steadily into the lenses, their electric glow all the more accentuated by the dismal blackness of his backdrop, his footage jostling up and down slightly as the spiky teen makes his way through the corridor in which he is recording.]

“Heyyyyyy, world and all who inhabit it! Zack Fair here, and I’m coming to you RIGHT from the basement of some screwed up manor in Nibelheim!”

[the young First glances around a bit, ensuring that he’s still going the right way.]

“It’s very very very VERY, dark, as you can see… Just trying to make sure I don’t bump into anything here. Already bumped into three rats, eight cobwebs, a whole buncha coffins. Spooky stuff. But don’t worry!! This isn’t your boy’s first trip down here…”

[there’s another quick turn over his shoulder, this time spotting a very vague rod of light floating in the distance, some nebulously victorious sound escaping his lips as he eagerly starts toward it.]

“This is actually my second time down here. First time I was kinda totally kicked out. Not at all rudely though! Guy just needed some space… I think. He’s been getting that for like four days now, anyhow. ‘Bout time he took a break.”

[as the glowing belt approaches, Zack mindlessly pads around for a bit, pawing and groping through the thick basement gloom.]

“C’mon, where’s the knob….”

[the faint sound of palm meeting metal is heard echoing through the dark.]

“Ah, sweet. Okay okay okay… So you folks are probably wondering right now who I’m even talking about. Well, lemme tell ya. Ever hear the name ‘Sephiroth’ before? You know, quicksilver hair and bare chest and pupils that go all upppppp like that? Yeah, well! He’s in there. In a library right here, devouring books like free samples at a superstore. And he’s been there for days. Been in there ever since—“

[he pauses for a beat, cutting himself off, a look of confliction cracking the teen’s cheerful masquerade]

“Well, uh… for Purposes, I don’t think I’m going to say what happened when we went to investigate the reactor. Doesn’t really matter, anyways. It’s more about how it affected my poor bud—uh, Sephiroth! Shoot he’s gonna kill me for using that silly nickname on this. Anyyyywaayy! I’m here to get him some fresh air, tell him what he needs to know and, most importantly, get it all recorded so he’ll never forget it again.”

[the camera hobbles as Zack presses his ear to the door, listening intently.]

“Alright… he’s definitely in there. Can hear his boots walkin’ around. Okay. Okay, you got this, Zack… Alright! I’m going in. On three, two, one…”

[and the door to the library is pushed open, his camera’s eye capturing the shift in backdrop as Zack makes his way across the threshold, the young SOLDIER traveling down what looks to be some narrow corridor that abruptly pools into an eerie candlelit opening.]

“Ooh. There he is.”

[the camera blearily pans around to capture a slender silver shape with a book in his hands, leather coat dancing with faint orange hues from the casting candlelight, silver hair appearing almost copper under the ghostly illumination as he paces back and forth across the floor without so much as a flinch.]

“Gaia… does he not even know I’m here? Okay, okay! Let’s do this, guys. Let’s get this man outta here.”

[there’s a deep, centering inhale from behind the camera.]

“Hey! Sephiroth! Seppphiroth! Sepppphiiroth! Put down the book.”

[a heavy silence dogs as Sephiroth continues to pace the floor in silence.]

“Shit…”

[the camera pans back to Zack.]

“Okay, so… He seems really out of it. Really engrossed in that book there. We gotta get through that noggin of his.”

[the camera pans back to the catatonic SOLDIER.]

"Sephiroth! Hey! Sephiroth! Sepppppphiroth!! I'm talking to you, man. HelloooooOOO?? Holy Ifrit... HEY! SEÑOR SEPHIROTH! STOP READING FOR A SEC, would'ja???"

[there's another bout of silence.]

"Dear Gaia... What’s going on with you?? Why aren't you responding? Sephiroth! Sepppphirottth.”

[following yet another wordless stretch, Zack swings the camera back around, rubbing his neck with an expression of both frustration and hurt.]

“Alright… guess he left me with no choice. Time for extreme measures.”

[the camera hobbles a little as Zack approaches the soulless SOLDIER.]

“Ah, screw it. Who cares if I don’t stick to the formalities…”

[an inky splotch of black momentarily covers the lenses, not wanting to capture the horrid images and texts that had seemingly possessed his friend, leaving only the teen’s gentle voice to provide any content.]

“…Hey. Bud. It’s me. Hey—yeah, I’m gonna put my arm here if you don’t put that thing down. I miss you… alright? You have any idea how long you’ve been down here? Gaia, pal… those bags… Look… you need some rest. Okay? We can talk alllllll this out in the morning. Let’s just go, okay? You’ll feel better after a good snooze…—“

“—I… c-ant…”

“You can, pal. These books aren’t going nowhere. I’m not going nowhere. Not without you.”

[another swath of silence stretches over the two SOLDIERs, the blackened smudge shifting slightly against the lenses.]

“Look, bud. Look. I know what he said is screwed up. I know what you saw is screwed up. But it doesn’t change anything… okay? You’re still my friend… you’re still Sephiroth. You’re still my old pal. You’re still…”

[even through the inky smudge, shards of blue are seen dancing across the camera, a cursory glance being cast toward the lenses in consideration.]

“…Y’know what. Fuck whatever they hear. You’re human, Seph… Not some alien. Not a monster. Not anything but the kind and lovable person that you are. And… and I’ma jerk for not telling you that sooner. I shoulda told you that the moment Genesis said those horrible things in the reactor. I shoulda told you that day of being here… okay? And I never ever ever ever want you to forg…—“

[suddenly, smears of black and silver flash across the camera as it plummets to the ground, cutting out instantly upon impact.]

.

.

.

.

[and it cuts back in a nebulous amount of time later, titled sideways, unknowingly capturing the sight of General Sephiroth slumped in the sheltering arms of his best friend.]

“Shh… it’s okay, pal. It’s okay… let it out. Let it out. I’m not going anywhere…”

—————————————

[the camera flashes on to reveal a smiling Zack leaning against his headboard at the Nibelheim Inn, happily accompanied by a freshly-showered Sephiroth, tresses of golden sunlight streaking in through the open window beside them.]

“Heyyyyyy, world and all who inhabit it! Zack Fair here, and I’m coming to you RIGHT from the Nibelheim Inn! Today I got my best friend and ex-commander here, Mr Señor Sephiroth!”

[Zack slings an arm around his buddy’s shoulders, earning himself an amused grunt from the mercury-haired man.]

“Yes. Hello, inhabitants of the world.”

“You wanna add a littttleeee bit more cheer—?”

“No.”

“Okie doke. You wanna at least tell ‘em the news?”

[the camera pans so that it is completely facing Sephiroth, green eyes well-rested and gleaming under morning’s warm embrace.]

“Hnph. Fine. As of this moment—“

“Say ‘breaking news!’”

“I will eat you whole.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just say it!”

[silver bangs sway against the lenses as Sephiroth shakes his head.]

“…Fine. Breaking new: as of this moment forward, both I General Sephiroth and First Class Zack Fair officially resign from SOLDIER. Cadet Cloud Strife will also be discontinuing his duties and is currently staying with a beloved family member.”

[Zack’s euphoric cheer is heard behind the camera.]

“Heck yeah!! Oh, and! For the record: all future episodes of ‘Zack Tracks’ will be recorded with my new partner here! Woooo!”

“I didn’t agree to this.”

“Bummer, ‘cause you’re doing it.”

[before an utterance of protest can be made, Zack takes the camera back from his pal.]

“Anywhoooo! Anything you wanna say to the people before we sign off, pal?”

[the camera lingers on Sephiroth’s face for several beats following the question, capturing the traces of wistfulness that flicker through his emerald eyes, the almost pensive pulse that ripples through those celestially human pupils as he contemplates an appropriate closure for Everything.]

“…Yes. I do.”

[and the camera zooms in, focusing on his sincere expression, aged and weathered from all the ravaging storms that have opened up to what he calls his life.]

“Hojo, you can disrespectfully burn in the deepest and most incandescent stoves in Hell.”

[a simple click, and the footage goes black.]

[justanotherpersonsuniverse]

uh, ml bnha au

Yep. Here we go folks. Uh I don’t know much I’ll expand on this but it’s here. The quirks that is. Uhm- here we go I guess? Thank you @ghostatjoes and @symphonic-scream and all y’all for the ideas and inspiration.

Adrien’s will be the only on the nose most obvious one. I wanna try and keep these powers from being just the miraculous powers. So this will be a mix of just original ideas and akuma stuff.

Adrien: “Cataclysm” pretty much it’s Shigaraki’s Decay but a little different. It’s this au’s version of One For All. The Destruction Hero, Plagg, passed this quirk down to him when Adrien proved that he had a good heart to be a hero cause Plagg needs a replacement due to an injury causing Cataclysm to slowly start to kill him. Adrien is aiming to save as many people as possible as a rescue hero. (His outfit has a cat motif in honor of Plagg who has a cat head due to an unrelated mutation like how Tokoyami has a bird head)

Marinette: “Growth” Marinette can amplify the life in a living object. Whether this means taking a small flower and turning it a building tall beanstalk or amplifying the healing of someone’s body. However she can only use this in short bursts or else she risks over growing her body causing chronic pains and possible plants growing from her arms. 

Nino: “Bubbles” Okay yeah so obviously Bubbler, but it’s a little cooler? Nino can entrap anything into these bubbles. Sounds, healing packs, explosions, balls of fire, light itself, all condensed into these bubbles ready to be yeeted across the battle field like bombs, med packs, or flash bombs. However they can be a little fragile so he’s working to make them more tough. The bubble solution he uses to make these bubbles are made of his unique sweat. Bakugo style. Don’t ask what it’s made of he isn’t sure either. At least it makes him smell nice.

Alya: “Signal” Not the most offensive quirk, but she can send a signal to every single person in a certain radius that she’s training to grow. Whether this is a message, an image she’s seeing(this can extend to just what she’s seeing in general), etc. She’s also training for this to extent to different signals in the air like WiFi signals so she can send them electrically as well. However she risks heavy migraines with overuse. To make up for her very situational quirk she’s working on upping her physical strength.

Chloe: “Venom/Honeycomb” With Venom she can temporarily paralyze a specific part of an opponent. It’s not as strong as her mother’s Venom or her Aunt/Mentor Pollen’s Venom as it’s a quirk she’s gotten from her family, but she’s working on making sure she’s the most exceptional in the entire class, and making sure no one hears of her other quirk. Honeycomb, which is actually her main quirk and not secondary, gives her the ability to produce a honey like substance that can harden into resin following her will. Chloe refuses to use it for it is unexceptional. She must be like her mother or else..

Sabrina: “Emotional Pulse” Sabrina draws energy from the emotions around her to give her a physical boost. It can go from a strengthened punch to something looking like Detroit Smash. However a draw back can be that the emotions around her can start literally affecting her and somewhat tilting how she may feel. So in an angry environment she herself might start to become angry as well. Hyper empathy basically. And it makes her a little anxious about her identity as an individual.

Nathaniel: “Ink” Nathaniel basically water bends ink into creations he can control, quite literally drawing his creations to life. His limit is how much ink he has. Like that one fuckin Mickey Mouse game.

Alix: “Clockwise” For, at most, thirty seconds, Alix’s speed is super enhanced to an incredible degree, practically breaking time itself. This also enhances her strength and mind, pretty much giving her the spiritual equivalent of that one scene with QuickSilver or that one scene from Over the Hedge. However she can’t go over thirty seconds right now or else her body, mind, and definitely internal organs will begin to face serious damage. To make sure she can track herself, she has a pocket watch that she always has handy to remind her how much time has actually passed.

Kim: “Icarus” Kim can create wings out of a waxy substance from his back that allows him the power of flight. One of the most straightforward power here honestly. Like Icarus however, these wings can melt and can be destroyed. Kim, however, has a small control over the wax which means he could potentially be able to use it for something else, however this requires patience and control, something he lacks. 

Max: “Locker” Pretty much, Max is able to set a “marker” on any enclosed space (of a arm reachable size, spanning from a literal locker or a luggage bag) and from anywhere in a 4 mile radius (that he can train to grow) Max is able to “reach into inside” and grab anything that’s inside there. However this space must exist, it’s not a pocket dimension, and so are the objects inside as well. This quirk is useful for holding emergency equipment or grabbing a quick weapon. However it has to be something he can actually hold and something he has already put in there, so he must calculate what would be useful so he can prioritize space and what he should bring with him. 

Ivan: “Minotaur” Gives him attributes akin to The Minotaur. Though his appearance is mostly human, it does become more and more beastly as his anger or need to use his power rises. 

Mylene: “Fear” Mylene gets a boost of power from the fear around her, which she has the ability to enhance to terrifying levels, leaving her victims in states of trauma and distress if she doesn’t control its degree. This quirk mutates her slightly to be akin in some way to the form of the person she’s using her quirk on’s fear. However she herself is easy to be scared so this backfires most of the time.

Juleka: “Vampire Bat” She can do anything a bat can do! Plus a bloody bonus. She has the power of echolocation which, if trained, can possibly knock down a small target. She doesn’t have wings but is working to incorporate some kind of glider into her hero design. As for that vampiric bonus, she has minor control over blood, able to bend it at will, however at this moment, the best she can do is make someone dizzy through a few edits with their blood stream.

Rose: “Perfume” Rose is able to admit a powerful perfume like gas which, upon inhaling, can reduce the victims into a drowsy state of mind. However she’s the only one immune to it so she must be extremely careful with how she uses it and who's around to possibly inhale it. A strange side effect from this quirk is that there’s a slight green tint to her blush.

Extras-

Luka: “Synesthesia” like the actual condition of synesthesia, he is able to visualize and conceptualize sound on different levels of understanding. With this, his hearing is incredibly sensitive and simply pressing an ear against the wall could help him develop an map of the entire building. He claims to hear the souls of others as well, which is supported by his ability to tell from illusion or reality just by his sense of hearing.

Kagami: “Storm” She has the entire essence of a storm wrapped up inside her. Though it may be confused with Class 1b’s Aurore Beaureal’s quirk “Weather” if you were to mistake those two, you would certainly get a lightning bolt to the stomach. Kagami’s quirk has been part of her family for generations, and as the up coming member of her hero family’s legacy, she is planning for no one to be in her way.

Marc: “Origami” Has complete control over paper and can manipulate them to become any creation they can think of, getting said creation’s attributes. So if Marc made a origami dog it might start barking and it’s teeth might become sharp enough to actually pierce skin, same if Marc made a paper sword. However the limitation is how much paper Marc actually has.

Lila: “Whistle” Lila can manipulate a person’s perception through the power of her whistle, causing possible hallucinations or problems in their sight. However it’s controlled by her whistle and it’s power so breathing exercises are important for her to do. To make things easier, she has taken up using the flute to better enhance her quirk. 

Maybe in a different post I’ll talk about the different pro heroes, vigilantes, and villains.

[monstersandmaw]

Male ice dragon x cursed female reader (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

This is a one-off special story that I wanted to write as a huge huge thank you to a very generous person who supported me on Patreon and also on ko-fi. I don't normally do this, and although this is not a commission, I did chat with them about what they would like, and I've wanted to write an ice dragon for a long time, so that worked for both of us! Thank you, 'The Silent Pariah'! Hope you enjoy it! It's been on Patreon for a week, and went down really well, so it’s time to share it here!

Content: reader is cursed to turn into a more monstrous form at night, and is locked away in a tower, guarded by an ice dragon. There's a bit of a misunderstanding, some angst, a bit of fluff, and some smut. Words: 5124

Dusk drifted down around the stones of the castle, bringing with it that daily, familiar crawling under your skin. Night was a time for monsters and shadows, for creatures less than human, and for hiding away, but you welcomed it with open arms as you had for years.

Your bones started to grow warm, your nerves ringing and prickling, and you knew it wouldn’t be long now.

Turning your back on the courtyard of the deserted castle, you left the balcony and made your way inside through the beautiful, hand carved doorway and into the bedchamber beyond. Sliding your dress off your shoulders, you stepped out of your clothes and felt the change sweeping up inside you, rising like a flood of unbridled power and raw joy. Laughing, you bowed forwards like a supplicant at a shrine, and when you straightened no more than a few minutes later, breathing hard and sweating, the creature that blinked its reptilian eyes back at you from the mirror on the far wall was not the nobleman’s daughter with the blood of kings flowing through her veins.

Blueish black, scaled skin covered your cheeks, the delicate scales leading your gaze towards pointed ears, just barely visible through the thick hair that fell around your now inhuman face. Blinking slowly as your gold, crackle-glazed eyes readjusted, you rolled your shoulders and flexed your taloned hands. With skin the colour of shadows at midnight, and a spine-studded whip of a tail, you slid on a simple linen tunic and turned for the spiral staircase.

Outside, through the walls of the castle, you could hear the enormous wing beats of the only other soul who lived in this vast castle, each flex of his wing strong as a storm wind as he came back to his roost at sunset.

“There you are,” came a deep, sonorous rumbling voice as you stepped out into the evening air, still revelling in the change.

Looking like a thousand shards of moonlight, the dragon adorned the crumbling curtain wall of the castle, delicately perching there with the grace of an ornamental bird.

“Irien,” you smiled. “Good day?”

Polite as ever, he inclined his head, slowly blinking sapphire blue eyes and smiling softly to reveal a maw full of deadly teeth. The dragon stretched out one of his elegant, muscular forelegs and climbed down from the wall, over the old stable block, and into the courtyard like a cat slinking down a flight of steps. His ivory talons barely made a whisper on the slate roofs of the tumble-down old buildings, and with his silky-white wings tucked neatly against his scaled back, he flowed like quicksilver.

“Mmm, yes,” he purred, lowering his head almost to the ground in greeting and closing his eyes again as you ran your hands over the glass-hard scales of his face. Each one was the size of your palm there, but as they slid further down his glacially pale body, they grew large as your whole hand, some even bigger than that. “So warm,” he laughed, nuzzling your fingers playfully and breathing his icy breath against your fingers.

“I’m not that warm. It’s not my fault you’re basically an icicle,” you snorted and he laughed, drawing his neck up like a swan.

Suddenly he scowled and turned serious, his whole body tensing.

“Company?” you asked.

You’d been through this charade together before, and something always sank a little in your chest when you thought about what the arrival of a knight and his little posse might mean. Would they have some magic with them this time that negated the ageless magic of the dragon? Some spear sharp enough to pierce his scales? Some trick he’d never heard of? Perhaps a ballista borrowed from the dragon hunters of the south? Would this be the day that your curse would be broken and you’d have to leave the relative freedom of your castle for the gilded cage of marriage?

Irien looked back at you, his eyes hard and stern as he watched your internal struggle play out in a series of scowls across your face. “Same as usual?” he asked.

“Drive them away,” you snarled. “I have no interest in breaking this curse so I can go and live like a brood mare until I produce the requisite number of appropriately-gendered offspring, thank you.”

With a savage snarl, he beat his wings, once, twice, and launched himself into the air. His ensuing war-scream could have split the night sky in two and it made your ears ring and your vision blur.

Irien was relatively young for a dragon but he was still nearly a hundred years old, and there wasn’t a trick or strategy he hadn’t yet encountered from some upstart young knight, hoping to win fame and fortune at the end of a lance. Oh, and the chance to break your curse. Somehow that always seemed to be an afterthought with these men.

“No one ever bothers to ask if I even want ‘rescuing’,” you muttered bitterly as you watched Irien sail away like a galleon on the unseen currents of air.

He circled the central tower of the old elven castle once to get a measure of how many there were, before spiralling down in a whirling corkscrew, breath blazing shards of ice down on the unfortunate troop somewhere beyond your view below. It wasn’t that you didn’t feel sorry for the way they died - at least it was quick - but you couldn’t help the sour sting of spite that lanced through you whenever Irien announced that there was another lot at the abandoned castle’s gates. Your parents still hadn’t given up on ridding the family of the stain of your curse.

Irien was back within five minutes, landing gracefully beside you, breathing hard from the exertion of flying and drawing on his reserves to create the ice-laced breath inside him.

“Were there many this time?”

He shook his head. “Only six in total.”

“Banners?”

“Grey and yellow field with a black raven.”

You turned away in disgust. “Those were Halvard’s men,” you said. “My father’s closest adviser.” Lifting your shadowy palm, you curled your fingers and inspected the black claws before turning your hand over and watching the way the moonlight glinted on the leathery scales on the back of your hand.

Monstrous. Vile. Cursed.

Lock her away!

True love’s kiss! The only way to break it!

Dragonskeep is the only place for her now. She cannot be seen.

The shame of our family…

Irien’s soft, concerned rumble behind you drew you back from your ragged collection of memories and you turned with a half smile. “I pity you sometimes, you know?” you sighed.

“Me?” he asked with a soft chuckle, falling into step beside you as you wandered off, vaguely thinking of heading towards the rambling rose gardens at the back of the castle. “Why would you pity me? You’re the one locked in here with a dragon who keeps eating the men who come to rescue you.”

“True. I used to think you were no better than them,” you admitted. “Those first few years after they dumped me here…”

Since then, you thought he’d rather come to think of you as part of the castle furniture, or even just another thing in his hoard to guard and protect. It was better than nothing, you supposed, and you had the books in the old elven library for company, and the vegetable garden at the back that you’d been restoring since you were sixteen, and a rather impressive number of stone sculptures ranging from the ‘uniquely abstract’ to something halfway decent. The masons who had abandoned the stone workshops in the gardens of the castle had left their tools behind, like children’s toys abandoned.

He scowled, clearly a little affronted, and shuffled his wings like a chilly bird. “Why? Have I ever given you reason to think badly of me?”

You stopped and raised an eyebrow at him. “You accepted their gold and gems easily enough when they showed up on your doorstep with a newly-cursed thirteen year old and struck whatever bargain it was with you to keep me here,” you pointed out. It felt so long ago now, but you’d never forget the first time you’d seen him. You’d burst into tears and begged your parents not to abandon you here.

Irien had the good grace to look embarrassed at that, turning his snowy head away and grunting awkwardly. “I… Well, I did, yes. But when I asked why they wanted me to take a girl under my protection ‘until such time as her true love can break the curse’, I have to say I was frankly appalled.”

Something ugly twisted inside you at his words. Perhaps it was the recent reminder of the world’s disgust at your ‘condition’, and their determination to change you back, but hot outrage boiled up inside you at his words. “Appalled? So you do think the way they do?”

“What?”

“This!” you blurted, halting and angling your face so that the moonlight glinted on the scales there and on the jaw full of fangs. You stared him down with blazing, inhuman, yellow eyes. “You do think this is disgusting, just the way they do?”

“I thought you didn’t care,” he replied haughtily. “I thought you didn’t care about the curse at all.”

“I don’t!” you practically shrieked. “But I do care about -” you cut off suddenly, feeling as though the ground were rocking beneath you. All these years, he’d just been tolerating your company because of the regular shipments of diamonds and cut gemstones that your parents added to his vault of hoarded wealth in an attempt to keep all but the most determined suitors at bay.

“Care about what?” Irien asked in a softer voice.

“What would you know?” you hissed, turning away and marching towards the tower where he couldn’t enter without bringing the whole lot down around him. “You’re made of ice anyway.”

You left Irien standing in the courtyard and marched up the stairs back to your chambers. You heard Irien lingering in the courtyard, but eventually he took wing and left the castle for his preferred roost on the cliff just above it. It was a long time before you got to sleep that night.

When dawn came the next day, you didn't bother getting out of bed til late in the day, and you clung to the shadows of the library instead of going out to tend to the garden. It was a warm day, and the plants would need a water, but you just couldn’t face meeting Irien now. For all the time that you’d been here, you’d always assumed that he’d seen past the effects of the curse.

It had taken you almost a year not to be afraid of him, but as the months had ticked by after that, and he’d shown you the castle grounds and how to take care of the abandoned elven fortress; how to feed yourself and even how to read ancient elven so that you could access the rest of the books in the library; you’d come to think of him as more of a guardian than a guard. Had he just been humouring the cursed little girl all these years, despite the fact that you were a woman grown now?

Late in the afternoon, just as you started to feel restless again with the gradual sinking of the sun, a faint tapping reached your ears, coming from the far end of the library. The room stretched the full length of one of the newer wings of the castle complex, with light flooding in on either side through huge windows, and at the far end it terminated in a wide balustraded balcony where former scholars would no doubt have gone to get some air during their studies.

You poked your head out from behind the bookshelf where you’d been studying best way to rid a certain garden herb of aphids, and squinted along the clear aisle between the rows of shelves. There, at the balcony at the far end, you could just glimpse Irien, gently tapping a claw on the glass. He was far too large to fit his body onto the terrace, but he could perch elegantly on the rim like a butterfly on a teacup.

Grinding your teeth, you fleetingly considered simply ignoring him, but in the end you straightened and dumped the book on the floorboards. Grim-faced, you marched up the length of the room and opened the leaded-glass door at the far end, coming to a halt in the centre of the balcony with crossed arms.

“I think,” Irien carefully began the moment you were outside, “That we may have had a misunderstanding yesterday.”

Your scowl deepened.

“Hear me out?” he asked, clearly well aware of your tendency to bolt at the first sign of discord.

Reluctantly, you nodded. As far as you knew, he’d never lied to you before.

Out here in the fading sunshine, with the low light flashing in prismatic ripples along those pearlescent scales, he looked… Frankly, he looked like a dream, and something ached inside you the longer you gazed at him. The graceful lines of his lithe, powerful body, the delicate, leathery membrane of his white wings, his ivory claws, the crystal spikes that adorned his head like a crown and continued down his lissom neck to his shoulders, only to start up again at the root of his tail and end in a fractured cluster of crystals around the tip of his tail; everything about him spoke of elder magic and of something ancient, something lost and forgotten from another age, despite his relative youth. He was intoxicating.

With a great inhale as if for courage, he began by apologising. “I’m sorry that what I said came out so wrongly yesterday,” he said. “I didn’t mean that you are appalling in any way. What has always appalled me, however, is the fact that your parents were prepared to abandon their own child to the dubious care of a dragon, and lock her away in an old elven stronghold for something that wasn’t her fault or doing in the first place.”

“Oh.” Well… when he put it that way…

“Oh,” he laughed. “I thought you might know me a little better than that after so much time together…” he added, tone bordering on huffy and petulant.

Even you had to admit that it was true. “Yeah,” you hedged. “I… I thought I did too. Maybe that was why I was so shocked. I’m sorry too… I was still in a strange mood after the soldiers came and I let it get in the way and took what you said the wrong way.”

Irien smiled gently and rumbled a slow, almost juddering exhale that you’d always found strangely attractive. In fact, you nearly missed what he said because your attention was focused on the sound. “I promise that what I said to you all those years ago still stands… the time I found you crying on the roof of the keep.”

Your lips gave a feeble twitch at that. He’d had to fly you down because you’d been too scared to climb. “And what is that?” you demanded though you recalled it perfectly well. Your eyes glittered as the mood shifted palpably between you, both tangibly relieved to be sliding back into your familiar repartee and banter, almost as if you’d not fallen out at all.

Catching the look in your eye, he gave another half-laugh. “That if you like the way you are, then it seems pretty futile to me to try to change you against your will. And personally,” he added, lowering his head a little and turning a tad bashful, “I think you’re beautiful whether the sun is up or down.”

The churning in your stomach that had been gnawing away at you since the previous evening suddenly stilled, and you smiled. “Really? I mean… it doesn’t bother you at all?”

Irien rolled his lovely blue eyes. “Not in the slightest. If anything, your ‘cursed’ form is… well…” He bustled and flustered a little with his wings, turning his gaze away.

That was a surprise. “Is what, Irien?”

“You’re stronger and faster like that; your eyes work better in the dark, and your hands seem to borrow a bit of inspiration from my kind,” he said, holding up one ivory-clawed hand so that the sunlight danced off his own talons for a moment. “And you have a tail…” he croaked.

“Sounds like you’re trying to tell me you’ve got a crush on my cursed self,” you snorted in disbelief, taking a few steps over to the balcony and resting your forearms on it. When he didn’t answer immediately, you shot him a sidelong look. “Irien?”

“I… have tried to tell myself that we are victims of circumstance… That… what I have come to feel for you is only to be expected when two souls are locked away in close quarters with each other for so long, but…” He paused and shrugged as he returned your look askance and exhaled. “Alas, I remain unconvinced.”

“Wait, is that your way of saying you do have a crush on me after all?”

He scoffed, frustrated with himself, and snapped, “When you put it in those terms, it sounds somewhat… cheap and insincere.”

His fingers flexed on the stonework, talons grinding small indents into it and sending a tiny trickle of finely-ground dust to the tiled floor of the balcony. Reaching one hand out you placed it over the leathery scales on his hand - really his foreleg - and squeezed. It was like squeezing stone, but he clearly felt the impact because he jolted a little in surprise and slid a foot down the wall from his perch. His wings flapped instinctively to keep himself in place and you almost laughed.

“So your feelings for me aren’t cheap and insincere then?”

“No,” he growled, and then with a little more grace he sighed. “No, not at all. I can’t stop thinking about you. Whenever I see someone with their troops tramping up to the gate, it’s not my hoard I think to protect.” He turned his head and blinked quietly at you. “It’s you.”

Something caught in your throat at that and tears prickled your eyes. “Irien…”

“Mmm?” he rumbled.

“Will you fly me somewhere?”

“Anywhere. Where would you like me to take you?”

Your eyes drifted over the rambling castle grounds, bathed in the golden light of early evening. Of course, now that you knew he truly cared for you, perhaps you could persuade him to fly you anywhere in the world, although it wasn’t particularly safe for his kind out there. People built cruel ballistae with bolts as thick as tree trunks to fell dragons from the sky like downed swans, but in these parts, he assured you he was safe enough.

When you didn’t answer him immediately, he rumbled your name and lowered his white muzzle to the balustrade, resting it there and watching like a patient hound while you decided. You placed your fingers on his nose and felt the chilly, frosty breath wash over them. The sheer steadiness of his presence was almost overwhelming, like he had his own gravity and was drawing you in and holding you there. You found both of your hands going to his face and suddenly you were leaning over him and sobbing.

“Hey,” he murmured, bringing one wingtip carefully to touch your shoulder. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You sniffed but the surging emotions refused to let you talk. It was too much. After a lifetime knowing you’d been abandoned here for who and what you were, to have the unwavering acceptance of the only being in the world who had shown you true respect and kindness… it left you spinning.

His pale hand closed around your waist and he pushed off the tower with you delicately in his grasp. You’d done this before, though not often, and the thrilling swoop in your stomach chased most of your tears away, leaving room for little else but wonder in your heart as the world spread out beneath you like a patchwork quilt.

Irien didn’t tell you where he was headed, and you found you didn’t care where he took you. He climbed higher into the hazy, lavender sky above, and soared over the castle wall and out into the pastures beyond where deer grazed and occasionally the massive mountain sheep would come down to enjoy respite in the warmer valley in the winter. Out beyond the open, untamed fields, a huge, glittering lake sparkled, and he seemed to be making for it as he glided along on unseen thermals.

The sun had just begun to kiss the mountain tops to the west, gilding a line of fire along their silhouettes, when he landed on the quartz pebbles of the lake shore, their colour almost the same as his own white scales. He set you down on the grassy bank just above the beach and stepped back.

“Better?” he asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he replied, bringing his head back and nuzzling your stomach affectionately, blue eyes rolling closed.

As your hands traced the contours of his massive head, he sank his body down to lie on the pebbles and curled his tail around his legs like a cat. The rumbling of his breathing soon deepened until you had to giggle. “Are you purring? Do dragons purr?”

“Only when we’re - oh - really… ahh…” he faltered as your fingertips skirted around the base of one of his crystalline horns which was, apparently, extremely sensitive.

“Really what, Irien…”

“Ah…” he gasped as you repeated the gesture. “Oh… gods that’s good…” he blurted.

You kept doing it until he rolled onto one side, breathing quickening as a tangible shiver passed along his spine. “I didn’t know you were so sensitive,” you murmured, leaning down to plant a kiss on his smooth cheek.

Half-twitch and half-spasm, his right foreleg raked a huge channel through the pebbles as he groaned long and low, claws flexed.

“Should I stop?” you teased.

“Up to you,” he rasped. “But…”

“But what…?”

He seemed to be having difficulty stringing a sentence together, which was amusing. The fact that he was so affected by your touch was definitely doing things to you as well, and as you felt the sun going down, you realised you were going to shift soon.

“But what, Irien?”

His jaws opened and he began to pant, little crystals of ice forming along his canines and over the pebbles of the beach where his head lay pillowed. His belly was pale as moonlight, the iridescent sheen only beginning on the larger scales of his sides and back, and as you gazed down the length of his body, you saw that the small slit in the sheath on his lower abdomen, almost between his legs, had begun to glisten with a pearlescent fluid. It looked swollen too, and as you caressed that sensitive spot on his head again, you watched as the very tip of his cock began to emerge from the sheath.

“You want me to keep going?” you asked, feeling your own skin heating up, partly from the impending change and partly because the sight of him getting so worked up was affecting you too.

“I didn’t… bring you here for… this,” he panted. “But I won’t stop you if you want to.”

“Do you want it though?” you asked, stepping back as your bones began to creak and shift. “Shit, sorry I’m… I’m shifting…” you gasped, reeling backwards and landing hard on the ground behind you. “I thought I had a few more minutes…”

It didn’t take long, and when you looked up, he was watching you with his steady, sapphire gaze. “Alright?” he asked. “I’ve never seen you change.”

With your new ‘monstrous’ eyes, you had an even better view of him. Where your human sight saw gentle rainbows shimmering on his scales, now you saw refracted light glittering and shattering off his spines, and the sheer depth of colour in his eyes was phenomenal. “How about another kind of ‘first’?” you asked, voice huskier now, and you began to slide the simple shirt up over your head.

The heat of his gaze made you preen a little as you revealed your dark blue, scaled body to him. His jaw parted again, mouth hanging open softly, and his tongue was visible too behind that row of enormous teeth. He was tasting your arousal on the air, you realised, like a predator.

“Gods, that’s hot,” you hissed and he tilted his head, catlike. “I want you, Irien. Is… Is that wrong?”

He shook his head. “If it’s what you feel, then it’s not wrong. I want you too, though I fear I might break you.”

“We’ll have to get creative,” you grinned, feeling your tail lashing behind you playfully.

“Look at you,” he snarled, rearing up a little like a cat about to pounce; a cat made of glass and porcelain.

His cock was not yet fully unsheathed, but you could see it - dark blue at the base, the colour of the heart of the lake behind him, with paler ridges that looked extremely inviting, and fading to pure white at the tip. It twitched and drooled under your gaze and he grunted softly. He was huge. The only way you could think to give him any kind of pleasure would be either to ride him and grind yourself along his length as best you could, or to loop your legs around it and let him fuck the space between them, and honestly, both had their appeal.

A huge drop of pre-come slid from the tip and landed on the pebbles below as his cock twitched again. He was breathing hard now, nostrils flared, and he stared openly as you stepped out of the last of your clothes, moving towards him while he stayed perfectly still. It was as if he thought you’d evaporate if he shifted so much as a muscle.

He whispered your name and you placed your finger on his lips in passing as you stalked along the length of his body. With the slightest pressure of your hands you asked him to tip over onto his side again, and he did without question.

The huge dragon folded his wings carefully behind him and then rolled onto his back as you directed him with little more than a quick touch here or there. His cock began to slide fully free of the slick sheath, and you jutted your chin upwards at his belly. He understood your request and brought his hand to the ground, palm up, for you to step into, and he raised you up onto his stomach. His hand fell back immediately to the beach beneath, limp and weak. You straddled his cock and he gave a huge, low frequency groan that made the water ripple and dance. His tail lashed violently, sending a spray of pebbles up into the air and splashing down into the water.

Slowly, teasingly, you rocked your hips over the tip of his cock and watched him leaking beneath you and all over his stomach. The claws of his hands scrabbled in the stones beneath him and his wings, stretched out on either side like a butterfly on display, flexed to their widest span. His head jerked backwards and he opened his maw wide.

“You like that?” you asked and he nodded, mute with pleasure as you picked up a steady rhythm.

“Oh gods that’s so good,” he grunted after a while, voice sounding wrecked. He bucked his hips upwards and nearly dislodged you, but you grabbed the scales of his belly and ground down harder against him, gripping with your thighs. “I’m not going… to last long,” he panted. “I’m… oh gods… oh…” and he chanted your name over and over as you worked him harder and harder.

You managed to catch a ridge of his cock against your clit and ground yourself into it before bringing your finger carefully there to help you along. When he realised what you were doing, he took one look at you pleasuring yourself and using his cock to help, gave a short whimper, before his whole body tensed up.

He came all over himself, ropes of hot release searing against your clit in a rush as his body clenched and convulsed, mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure, and you found yourself coming a heartbeat later. Your fingers gripped his cock, prolonging and intensifying his orgasm as you came in waves atop his cock.

Eventually he slumped back, head knocking against the pebbles behind him, and he lay there, twitching and spent, apparently dazed and reeling from the force of his orgasm. Your legs were slick and shaky too, but as you moved off him, he managed to raise his hand to help you down.

“I’m going to have to bathe in the lake to clean off,” you grunted, looking down at yourself. “Look at me.”

“I am,” he said. “You’re beautiful.”

Feeling a little unsteady still, you turned away from him and said, “Come and join me when you’ve recovered a bit…”

“Mmm,” he said, making no move at all as you strode into the lake. He was clearly enjoying the view, and it was a long time before he rolled himself over and heaved his body up to join you. When he did, he nuzzled you and let you lounge on his foreleg, half in and out of the water. He brought his tongue to your thighs and carefully laved it up and over your body, honing in on your clit which was still aching and sensitive.

Your legs parted instinctively for him and as he raked his teeth appreciatively over your stomach, bringing you up to his maw so that he could taste you better, you let yourself fall limp in his hands. It wasn’t long before he had you shuddering and moaning against his tongue, gasping his name.

He made you come twice more after that, the last time on the grassy bank above the lake shore, and as he curled around you protectively to let you recover, you rested your head against his side and sighed. “I don’t ever want to leave here,” you murmured. “Can it always be like this?”

“I’ll try,” he smiled, laying his head down beside you. “I’ll try.”

—

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[theladyofrosewater]

Link/Impa Headcanons

All right before we begin real quick before we begin I wanna say that this isn’t a “I ship it every time pairing” because l don’t really do that for LOZ, because characters and tone of LOZ games can shift around. I only ship it for one paring: The Hyrule Warriors pairing, specifically the definitive edition ones. no hate to anyone who ships the AoC ones or any others, this is just for clarify purposes on what I ship K? All right with that out of the way Lets Begin!.

Their relationship was based on a friendship that they had for around 4 years before any hints of romance entered the relationship, about 3 years after the end of Cia debacle.

Link was the first to realize he had feelings for her but Impa is the one who acts on her feelings first.

When Link is stressed out Impa lets him braid her hair while he talks about what’s bothering him so he’ll calm down.

Link’s nickname for Impa is “Quicksilver” and Impa calls him “Sunflower”.

Their idea of a date night is a sparring match then a stargazing picnic.

Neither are super into the idea of PDA and are both rather private about relationships so most people don’t even know they are together unless you know the both of them well.

Their primary form of affection is making sure the other is feeling good and healthy, so things like making sure the other eats regularly, take breaks when working for a long time, not over training, and making the other gets enough sleep are common things they do for each other.

Both of them are so used to fighting together they know how to read each others movements that whenever the get the chance to dance they are the stars of the show.

Neither are particularly the jealous type but if anyone bothers Link to the point of making him uncomfortable Impa will use thinly-veiled threats or pull the “ excuse me we’re a couple line” depending on the situation.

Impa has the larger living family than Link does so he was nervous the first time he met them before they welcomed him with open arms.

When Link proposes he uses a sword and necklace rather than a ring and Impa appreciates this much more.

They both have separate rooms in the castle but once they become engaged they move into a area of the less crowded part of Castle Town but still close to the castle in case of a emergency. 

The wedding is a quiet affair, with Zelda officiating and only their close family in attendance.

That’s all for now! if ya’ll wanna add on feel free to do so, this post was mainly just to post something lol but for the 5 people (i’m looking at u jay) who also like the pairing, hope u liked it.

[itsapapisongo]

“WEBBED SURVEILLANCE”

Pairing: None, though I won’t blame you for any spotting Ho-Yay banter/interactions.

Genre: Superhero | Comedy | One-Shot

Word Count: 2.0K

Warnings: Language

Summary: An exasperated Spider-Man (Mark Lee) trails the elusive Black Cat (Lee Taeyong) across town, hoping to knock some sense into the master thief.

Notes: This was supposed to be the first of a series of one-shots focused on original characters face-claimed by several members—from NCT to Stray Kids to SEVENTEEN—but I decided to drop the whole face-claim thing and simply go full what if x member was a superhero route instead. A choice that is partly inspired by @vernosaur​ and her awesome fic Playing Hero.

Edited: 20.09.25 (last update ) | 20.12.06 (recent update)

HE had planned to land on the floor, but it was already occupied.

“Oi!” Spider-Man exclaimed, his voice a nervous, high-pitch. “Nope!”

In the nick of time, without missing a beat and with superhuman ease, he performed an in-air flip and clung to the ceiling, arms extended to either side of his body as though to maintain balance. He didn’t need to be so theatrical but he had been caught off guard. Ignoring a reaction as visceral as this one had become harder and harder to contain; more often than not, sheer instinct kicked in and he just went with it.

Spider-Man stared in disbelief at four of the ugliest Komodo dragons he had ever laid eyes on and they glared back at him, thin tongues slithering in and out of their snouts. He could hear them hissing—or snarling, he couldn’t tell—and gulped, shocked at how late he had come to notice them. A tingling sensation notified him of potential danger but he hadn’t imagined it would be a quartet of monitor lizards casually dragging themselves on such a small apartment.

He’d set up his phone and laptop to monitor emergency channels, in hopes that it would direct him to where he could make a difference. Robberies, fires, break-ins, super villains being up to no good was what he had in mind but apparently the universe had other plans for him. And so, in a matter of minutes, a routine night of surveillance turned into a bizarre chase across the city. He had been swinging non-stop for the past hour and half, chasing the elusive Black Cat across town, mumbling to himself that he probably shouldn’t have made such a dynamic entrance in Inner Demons territory.

You gotta time your quips, man, he scolded himself when everyone hauled ass in different directions and he lost sight, albeit briefly, of the Cat. The master thief had connections with just about everyone in the crooked lane that was Enn City. Following the guy meant getting in a heap of trouble but that was already part of the job so what the hell, right? He just hadn’t considered Komodo dragons to be part of the equation.

The chase led him to the shady part of town, where the properties looked ancient and in need of a new coat of paint, and into the lost (apartment-sized) world of Komodo Land. The Black Cat had been quick to find and subsequently hide in this narrow, five-story monstrosity that oozed with not-so-chill vibes and shamelessly overpriced and claustrophobically small apartments. It reeked of neglect, nicotine, and chemicals, as though it had been repurposed for some clandestine drug operation.

Spider-Man wondered if it had been a deliberate ploy to distract him. After all he had checked the lobby and the first floor and found no sign of the master thief. What he’d found instead, much to his disgust, was the stench of the dragons’ dinner, excrement, and urine.

Just my luck, he thought, crawling across the ceiling and scanning the rest of the apartment: the door had been left ajar and there was nothing but a bucket and a mop by a corner. The pungent smell stung his nostrils even through his mask and he resisted the urge to gag by clearing his throat. One of the Komodo dragons stared, as though it could see right through him. Big bioluminescent green eyes stared back and narrowed until becoming thin slits of contempt and disgust. Behind the mask, Spider-Man cringed.

Who knew something could smell so bad?

“Good Lord,” he whispered, gently shaking his head. “You guys should think about cleaning after yourselves.”

As he shifted his weight and positioned himself to face the door, crawling slowly toward it, he saw it. A shadowy figure in the hallway outside the apartment. The figure moved itself with grace and purpose and just enough that Spider-Man caught a glimpse of his face in the dim-light of the hallway. Aware of the now incessant hissing—or snarling, Spidey still couldn’t tell—of the lizards, the figure turned toward the half-opened door then dashed into the hall.

Pushing himself off the ceiling and clinging to the door, not trusting his new Komodo besties to not take a chunk out of him, he peered into the narrow hallway and saw the Black Cat running toward the elevator. Spider-Man gracefully leapt off the door and slammed it shut behind him because there was no way in hell he was going to leave those beasts out of there.

Who waits for an elevator while they’re being chased?

Spider-Man groaned and shook his head.

The chase was on—again.

ALRIGHT, folks, let’s do this one last time.

His real name is Mark Lee.

He was bitten by a radioactive spider—or at least, he thinks it was radioactive—and for the last year and half he’s been Spider-Man. By chance, fate, or design, he’d been bitten. Just like his idol: Peter Parker, the original Spider-Man. Mark would love to call himself the One and Only Spider-Man but knows it would be a lie and disrespectful to Parker. So, in a town as big and as shady as Enn City, Mark did what he could and took up the mantle, making it his mission to live up to his idol’s example and use his powers for the greater good.

The encounter made him superhuman, granting him spider-like abilities. He can leap great distances, cling to almost any surface, and sense when something is about to threaten him, allowing him to avoid and react to danger with ease in the blink of an eye. The bite not only made him quicker on his feet but it granted him superhuman strength, stamina, reflexes, as well as enhancing other skills, such as his balance and dexterity, that he’d honed over the years as an athlete. Physical education was certainly less of a hassle after that.

The suit—black and green—represents his passion and ambition and paid homage to the original Web-Slinger by keeping the same spider symbol upon his chest and back; the web-shooters, designed by Joshua Hong and Moon Taeil, make it easier for him to move across the city and enable him to snare criminals; and the mask offers anonymity, protection, and comfort, a way to fight crime and keep his life as boring as it always has been.

Being a hero was no easy feat. Mark is aware of this. He does his very best to kick ass and take names. Life has meaning, even if it includes being pounded into the ground and fighting guys in colorful suits that possess, whether innate or manufactured, unique abilities that rival his own. New threats crawl out of the woodwork but he’s ready for all of them. Because he’s Spider-Man and it’s his duty to kick ass and keep people safe.

But sometimes, no matter how cool it might feel, being Spider-Man can be exhausting.

THE Black Cat was fast.

Not Quicksilver fast, but definitely-athlete-fast. Like, come to think of it, track-star fast. He moved with such complete control of his body that for a second Mark felt jealous of his flexibility. He dashed and shouldered a door open at the end of the corridor, promptly disappearing through it. Just then, as if on cue, the elevator binged itself open. It was empty. Obviously. The Cat had no plans on waiting for it and had been a last second attempt to lose his pursuer.

Mark sprinted after him and launched himself forward with a leap that had him cling to the ceiling then bounced on a wall and thrust himself toward the exit the Cat had improvised for himself. He noticed that the master thief’s choice of exit was the emergency staircase. Instead of descending, the Cat ascended not by foot but via grappling gun. Seconds before he was propelled upward, they came face-to-face.

The Web-Slinger, albeit reluctantly, admitted the elusive and perpetually frustrating thief was quite the looker—even if a good part of his face was still concealed by the domino mask-like goggles he was wearing. The lenses were pristine and made his eyes visible: one was dark, the other bright blue. His complexion was pale, his hair a mess of red and white. When he smirked he came across as both charming and devious, a strange mix that only added to his allure.

You seriously gotta focus, the Web-Slinger scolded himself. There’s no time for man-crushes.

In the blink of an eye, the Black Cat was whisked away and the sound of the line echoed in the empty staircase.

Seriously?

“Son of a—hey—that’s cheating!” Mark exclaimed as he leapt on the stair’s railing then aimed his web-shooter at the Cat’s feet. “Gotcha!”

Only he didn’t. The webs flew past the Cat’s head and attached themselves to the railing three stories up. Spider-Man groaned, shook his head, and released the weblines. He cracked his neck and knuckles, inhaled through his nose then exhaled through his mouth. With all the strength he could muster and crouching as low as he could, while still balancing himself on the railing, he sprung upward like a bullet. He flew, matching the Cat’s altitude, and caught him mid-air before he could disengage the line on his belt. The impact was harder and a bit more painful than expected; it was bound to be either way. Mark shrugged it off with a faint grunt. The Black Cat? Not so much.

Shooting his webs to a railing, the Web-Slinger managed to hold them suspended before completely falling. The Black Cat groaned from the whiplash but was still conscious and strong enough to smack Mark across the face, using him and the web to ascend as though he were back at climbing the rope in PE. Mark groaned despondently, his upper-lip stinging, then saw the master thief run through a door that led to the roof.

You gotta be shitting me.

He spun another web, triggering the web-shooters to pull him up, and dashed through the door as soon as he touched ground. The Black Cat, who had a decent head start, was running toward the edge of the building’s roof. He leapt on the edge and looked down, as though to prepare himself to jump. Yet, before he could he even think about doing that, two strong web-lines dragged him back. The master thief landed squarely and pathetically on his back. When he blinked and groaned, pain shooting through all of his back and some of his buttocks, he saw a pair of green eyes squinting right at him.

“Hey,” said the Black Cat, trying to conceal a smirk. “How’s it going, Webs?”

Mark tilted his head, arms crossed. “It seems like we’re in a rush, aren’t we, Puss in Boots?”

The Cat scoffed and cackled sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Though he could make another run for it, he remained on the ground. “I thought you’d be taller,” Black Cat exclaimed, sounding disappointed. “Like way taller.”

“And I thought you’d be—uh—less of—dammit.”

Mark groaned and rubbed the back of his neck when his quarry stared at him with a smug half-smile. The master thief shrugged, chuckled, then his hands moved to either side of his head faster than Mark could register it. With acrobatic ease and proficiency, the Cat performed a perfect kip up and was instantly on his feet. If he was winded and exhausted from the chase, he didn’t show it.

“Cat caught your tongue?”

“Funny,” mumbled Spider-Man. “Real funny.”

“Not as funny as this.” The Cat titled his head to the side. He was still smirking as he sang, “Oh Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream—make it the harshest pummeling I’ve ever seen.”

“What are you—?”

And there it was. A second too late but still there. His entire body buzzed, goosebumps spreading everywhere, and his head felt heavy as a wave of nausea hit him like a punch on his gut. Everything momentarily slowed down but before he could react to the danger, before he could even register it, he was swept aside with such force that felt like a van had smacked him squarely across the side. The pressure and velocity of it overwhelmed him. He flew, high and far away from the building’s roof . . . until he wasn’t. 

He didn’t know where or how he landed. He just knew, as everything turned dark, that everything hurt and there was definitely a good amount of sand in his pants.

[glitterfairy-21225]

WandaVision Wishlist/Theories

Okay, my thoughts have pretty much been consumed by WandaVision, Spider-Man 3, and this whole multiverse. Ironically, when I first heard about a potential multiverse in Far From Home I was relieved to find out it was all a facade. I wanted the MCU to remain an isolated world in itself, I guess not really understanding what a multiverse story could lead to. Now that I have a grasp of what might be happening, I have not only changed my mind but I've fallen into my fanfiction trend of waking up each morning, going through the day, actively going and looking for old news, hoping for a new update of some sort. So my wishlist. Some ground rules first; I'll also write individual wishlists for the others, this is just for WandaVision but also some of the stuff pays off later and I'll talk about that.

Evan Peters Quicksilver. I've said this multiple times so I'll keep it quick. I keep telling myself to just accept a cameo, but I hope he plays a big part, maybe coming back to help in Doctor Strange, maybe bringing his universe's heroes with him. I sort of see Wanda having a breakdown at the end of one of the episodes and doing something freaky with her powers, and it ends on the wham shot of Peter Maximoff asking who she is. I. Would. Scream.

I've also said that I'd be happy if he plays Mephisto as predicted, but now that I've really thought about a Quicksilver.... That might not be true anymore. That being said, I think the main appeal for me at least would be seeing Peters pull out his American Horror Story acting chops. But that's only if it's not Quicksilver, which I don't see why they wouldn't.

Post credits scene. Now I'm not suggesting one after every episode.... Actually, maybe one after every episode. Why not? It would probably get old quick though, but maybe still. Anyways, what if in the final episode, we get a post credits scene of Wiccan and Speed getting reincarnated. 

Okay, so you know how there's a dream related song playing from every decade they're parodying? For the eighties, do Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This. There may be a better choice for that, but shut up no there isn't. Plus all that stuff about abuse could be applicable to Wanda's situation with her reality world.

Give Jimmy Woo a boyfriend.

Wanda gets her reality warping/hex magic and is revealed to be a mutant. I struggle to even put this because it seems like a given, but a part of me is still like, 'What if they don't, though.' And I can't accept that. Wanda Maximoff is one of the most powerful beings in Marvel. Act like it. I'm sorry, I just love her and her comic powers so much. That's how you write an overpowered goddess, by giving her a crap life and every reason to just explode. I'm glad Marvel's learning.

Maybe start an episode with a prologue of Wanda's backstory with the missiles and her and Pietro going to Hydra. Trailer breakdowns have determined that at points in the trailer it shows Wanda in her first appearance in Winter Soldier. I'd prefer if, either as a basic flashback or a break of reality causing a hyper real flashback, Wanda relives her powers being unlocked by the soul stone firsthand. This could also be a nod to mutants.

Erik Lehnsherr cameo. In another start of an episode, or the same one, show him helping them out as kids. Maybe even Erik giving them up for adoption. Either Wanda doesn't know he's her dad or she does and hates him. If it's the latter, they joined the Nazis out of resentment, because... Come on. Also, maybe he's raising Lorna Dane post plane crash as a foil to his relationship with Wanda.

Show Wanda's struggle. Since House of M is a major inspiration they should draw from that. In that story, Wanda's powers got out of control due to grief and pretty everyone was all for killing her. I kind of hate that when it comes to god level superwomen, they're all either evil or written like Captain Marvel, obvious exceptions aside. The way you write overpowered is by giving the character no control over the massive abilities and having that as a point of contention. 

Two paths for Agatha. A) She’s a villain. Either she works for Mephisto if we go down that route, or she actively encourages Wanda to stay in this strange universe and pushes her on when she has a breakdown. She seems confused but I hope this is either an act, or if not then she just goes with the chaos and uses it to her advantage.

B) Agatha Harkness as a former mentor/mother figure of Wanda's. She seems really confused and not in a fake way in the trailers. Though it could 100% be fake. Maybe the reason she is in Wanda's sitcom world is as she tried to get through to Wanda, like I think Monica Rambeau did. Maybe Wanda's mother was a witch like in the comics (after a shitty retcon) and Agatha raised them after them after their (adoptive?) parents died... Ooh!

Wanda has both magic powers and mutant abilities. Agatha taught her as a child, but she swore it off at some point for some reason. I think I finally understand her powers in the comics, because it never made sense to me, but this does. Simple explanations equal understanding I guess.

Wanda's headpiece. Not as a Halloween costume, but for real that's all. Also I heard someone theorize that her outfit is colored as a sort of couples matching with Vision, which, uh, yes please.

Wanda creates the reality herself, not Mephisto. He still feeds off this dilemma though. She doesn’t know what she’s doing or how she’s doing it, but at some point in the series she realizes what’s happening and decides to devote herself to the false reality, which is when she willingly changes the furniture in the trailer.

As excited as I am for Evan Peters, give ATJ Quicksilver some love as well. I heard that the actor doesn’t want to return to the MCU, which is fair, but still give him some love. And at some point before Evan Peters shows up so it’s not like, ‘Oh yeah, I remember him!’ Maybe a flashback to Wanda before entering the sitcom reality mourning him as well. Maybe sitcoms where everything is wrapped up with a pretty bow is how the twins coped as children. Hell, maybe it was a family thing with dead parents/Magneto/Harkness.

God, I hope that people don’t find this after the show comes out and says, ‘This would’ve been better than that travesty.’ Maybe after the show is completed I could reblog or something to see how much actually came to fruition one way or another. Just the basic wish though, because my brain is too specific for anyone else. Like when youtubers make movie predictions and then play bingo after it comes out.

Edit: Just realizing I didn’t title this... Shit.

[lc-39a]

Thanos Said It Best: Fine, I’ll Do It Myself

(aka: “discov has officially consumed all the content including its new f/o so she needs to write all the things she would change if she were there,” or: “Hey, Maybe Let’s Not Run Headfirst Into Danger This One Time,” or: “Fuck Dark Phoenix For Doing My Boy Dirty”)

click here to see the scene i’m editing!

-

Whatever had happened to Kurt in that house, it hadn’t been good, if the fact that Jean had just fucking exploded through the side of it was any indication. Here’s what Peter saw all at once:

Raven took off running toward Jean, Scott shoved Ororo to the right to make sure her lightning didn’t hit his girlfriend, Hank raised whatever stun gun he’d brought, and Xavier shielded his eyes. He needed to think of a plan, and lucky for him, he had all the time he ever needed.

He entered what everybody’d affectionately come to call “bullet time,” speeding up without thinking, and stared at the wreckage and chaos, now almost motionless in midair, realizing his best bet was to just... get to her. He moved to the left to go to her, to use the floating debris as stairs but then -

A squeeze on his hand. “Peter, no.”

He turned back to face Sylvia, her face completely seized by fear, and his insides flipped at the sight. He’d forgotten she’d asked him to hold her hand while they confronted Jean, and forgotten to let go of her before going into bullet time, taking her with him. Stupid of him, but it’d be dishonest to let go of her now. “I - have to help her.”

She shook her head, shoulders tight against her sides, trying to hide from the world, as was her coping mechanism, and clearly desperate to convince him. “No. You don’t.”

Peter squinted, confused, and tilted his head questioningly. Sylvia had always been a staunch believer in helping everyone, especially emotionally, so this was... way out of character for her.

She stepped a little closer, taking a quick glance at Xavier. “You heard what she said. His mistakes are his, and I’m not letting you get hurt because of them. The others can if they want. But I fucking refuse to let you.”

He knew she had a point, and he let his confused expression relax, looking into her distraught eyes. Again, he reacted to her emotions physically; His chest tightened as she continued, her breathing ragged.

“And...” She looked to Jean, sympathetic but resolved. “If this situation’s gonna go the way I think it is... We have a lot of little kids back there to watch out for.”

Peter inhaled, looking at the frozen scene too. “...Yeah,” he sighed. “You’re right.” Then, without even asking, he lifted her off her feet. Though the gasp she let out would tell you otherwise, Sylvia trusted him, even if affectionate touch was still so hard to accept.

They both looked to Jean and the others once more. Each felt the same two things: A tinge of shame for leaving them behind, but also relief that they had realized the severity of the danger. Peter knew how afraid Sylvia still was of Jean’s power, no matter how hard she had tried to fight it while trying to help the poor kid cope. Removing her from the situation finally felt like he was doing something about it. Now, he was actually protecting her.

And then Jean turned her head toward them, in bullet time.

“Shit -” “PETER, RUN.”

Run he did, just barely fast enough that the Phoenix didn’t have time to psychic blast them into next Wednesday. Run he did, as fast as he could, back to the school, holding the little technopath tighter than tight, her eyes squeezed shut and her face against his chest. When he finally stopped at the front doors, she tried to jump down from his grip, but he didn’t let her.

The teenage mutant who opened the door for them, surrounded by young ones, raised his eyebrows but said nothing, letting them pass. A kindergarten aged mutant in the crowd, though, was concerned and unafraid to show it: “Is she okay, Mr. Quicksilver?”

Sylvia laughed softly in his arms, and Peter smiled at the sound and the earnest use of his alias. “Yeah, because I totally saved her life out there.”

“You did not,” she insisted, half rolling over to face him, still held. “I told you that we needed to -”

She realized what she was about to say, and stopped. They looked at each other, silently communicating the idea of “Oh God, how do we tell them, and where do we even begin?” The kids were looking at the two of them, fascinated by the utter trust that Syntax had in Quicksilver to hold her like that.

Peter spoke for her. “Well, anyway, get back to your... stuff, whatever it is you were doin’ - and if you need anything, come find one of us, ‘kay?”

A chorus of various affirmations rang out - “Okay,” “We will,” “Thank you, Mr. Quicksilver” - and the group dispersed. They locked eyes and nodded to each other, and Peter dashed back to his room. He let her down onto his bed as if she were porcelain, took off his goggles, then laid down unceremoniously next to her, both staring at the ceiling.

He waited a moment, then: “You okay?”

“...No.”

He rolled to face her, asking, “How can I change that?”

She breathed deep for a bit, letting him wrap an arm around her and rest his head against her shoulder. “Just like that.” Her eyes shut almost involuntarily at the contact. “Back there, I... thought I might lose you.”

“Good thing you stepped in, then. That, and I don’t trust these kids to not like, unleash hell while we’re all gone.”

Sylvia snickered. “True, true... but...” She rolled onto her side to face him. “The unleashing of hell can go for a little longer, right?”

Peter smiled and pulled a blanket over the two of them as she curled up under his chin, letting him surround her. He kept his arm around her, and sighed in contentment. “Oh, yeah. It’ll be fine.”

And for a little while, the world outside and the terrifying forces that inhabited it were forgotten.

[frobster]

zero fucks given, next please, with whoever u want ;)

Clint x Pietro / Hawksilver

Edit: now on ao3!

☆☆☆

Clinton Francis Barton was known for his sharp eye, both with a bow and with people. He could spot people's tells, their nervous tics, their bullshit poker faces. It was so easy to string them along like an arrow getting notched as he pulled taut, never faltering for a moment. The final release was his favorite - when the plan came to fruition and the shock on their faces showed how perfectly he had laid it all out. He didn't become a feared mercenary for nothing.

While Hawkeye rarely ever worked with anyone, there was a person he allowed to assist him sometimes. The kid was quick on his feet and with his tongue, speedy and witty in ways that eased Clint's frustrations rather than add to them. Pietro Maximoff was casual, cool in every meaning of the word, and his sly grin could make even the most hardened of criminals nervous.

Getting hired was never an issue. People had endless problems and endless money, and Clint capitalized on that. Sometimes he exacerbated problems in the dark, spreading rumors and sparking rivalries just to stir up trouble. It amused him when he felt bored, when that restlessness crept into him and he felt dissatisfied with the world.

Between jobs, Clint would stretch out in his apartment. It was actually a very nice place but he rarely went through the effort of cleaning it so it tended to look like a trash heap. He would lounge on his couch, his $6,000 leather couch with brass finishings and hand-carved wooden legs, and stare at the ceiling as take-out containers piled up around him.

And sometimes, during these lulls where Clint rarely moved at all, Pietro would come by. Quicksilver would rush around the apartment cleaning things up, throwing things out, putting things back where they belonged. The archer rarely ever reacted. He would stare at the ceiling, letting his numbness and guilt immobilize him, as the younger man tended to a residence that wasn't his.

"You know, old man, you should really take better care of yourself," came an accented voice with a hint of snark and maybe an undercurrent of something else too.

Clint didn't reply. The couch was clean by then so he stretched out further with a yawn, pointedly not looking at Pietro.

"Yourself, your apartment, your bow." The bow had been sitting on the floor rather than hanging on the wall where it should. Pietro returned it to its rightful place with care and reverence, knowing how important it was to Clint.

Still no reply. Not even a sigh or a grunt to show that Clint was listening. Pietro knew he was, but it still annoyed him.

"You'll lose your edge if you keep letting yourself slip." Pietro sat on the floor by Clint's head, his silver hair catching and reflecting the light enough to draw the archer's attention.

But still, he continued to be stubborn. "Zero fucks given. Next," he grumbled.

Pietro sighed and lifted up on his knees to press a kiss to Clint's head. The casual affection still made him flustered, his blank expression cracking slightly as he blushed.

 

"I've got a few more ideas if you want to keep crossing them off," Pietro said with a smirk, the same one that made so many people nervous and instead had the opposite effect on Clint.

Finally sitting up, Clint shook his head with a small smile and framed the smaller man between his legs. They shared a look for a moment, both daring the other to do something.

"Zero. Fucks. Given," Clint enunciated with an amused look. "Next."

Pietro's smirk became dangerous, teasing, willing to take on any dare. He surged forward to press a heated kiss to Clint's mouth as he shuffled closer to the couch. If Clint wouldn't cheer up with words, Pietro had plenty of other tricks up his sleeves.

Or, down his pants.

☆☆☆

@mom---nicole @leisurelypanda

[kilopmad]

Launchbar mac

#LAUNCHBAR MAC FOR MAC OS X#

Open Keychain app and add a new Generic Password named ProxySwitch. Action retrieve the admin password from Keychain. LaunchBar’s behavior is similar to Spotlight, one of the native OS X functionality, so the regression is graceful when I have to work on a Mac without LaunchBar. Install and launch ProxySwitch.lbaction and edit UserProxy.json located in /Library/Application Support/LaunchBar/Action Support//.As you type, Launchbar suggests applications and files based on the letters you've entered, and what items you use most frequently. When you trigger Launchbar with a keyboard shortcut, a search box pops up at the top of your screen. If youre using a recent Chrome version you. Today, however, LaunchBar, recently updated to version 6, is the single most important utility I have installed on my Mac. Sends current Page Title, URL and any selected text to LaunchBar. Launchbar is, at it's root, a system wide search. Unofficial Send to LaunchBar or Mac extension. As is the case with all of the aforementioned options, the possibilities are endless of what you can do with this launcher. Launchbar is one of the most powerful applications available. Launchbar has been around for longer than even Spotlight and is on version 6 in its history. If Quicksilver is the basic, no-nonsense version of Spotlight, then Launchbar is the big fish in the small pond. Katie and David take an in-depth look at currently available keyboard launchers for the Mac including Spotlight, LaunchBar, and Alfred.Project management software free microsoft office project. I have been using LaunchBar for over 3 years and it has become so natural that I feel literally paralyzed when I approach a Mac without LaunchBar. When you activate it by pressing Command-Spacebar, the LaunchBar window (the.

#LAUNCHBAR MAC FOR MAC OS X#

LaunchBar is one of the ten light automation utilities (Macademic Ninja Kit), which make academic work on a Mac fast, smooth and enjoyable. LaunchBar is a utility for Mac OS X that provides quick access to your files.

[fyrapartnersearch]

Fandom doubling trash Xmen edition

Hello there, I suck at this whole advertising and searching partners so I'll try to make this as quick as possible and if you have any questions I don't bite, message me.

- I've been roleplaying for around 10 years, but only around 3 in English. So yeah, English isn't my first language and I may struggle sometimes with it, making my replies slower or I may just make mistakes from time to time (please, please, tell me so I can keep learning).

- Ditch friendly. No, really, I won't get offended or something like that .w. And well, if we have already been roleplaying it could actually be nice of you if you tell me so I can search for another partner.

- About being active, I'm usually open for OOC, but that I'm online talking to you doesn't mean I'm already writing a reply. I offer patience about posts and I want the same back. Roleplaying is a hobby for me, not a job.

- I started roleplaying using both canons and OCs, and I love OCs. Making them and learning about my partner's OCs as they interact with mine and canon characters. So yeah, I'm also a fan of CanonxOc pairings, more than OcxOc or CanonxCanon (I still enjoy OcxOc though, CanonxCanon can be difficult because well, everyone has their tastes. And ship wars can get too intense for me but you can always try).

- One liners. No, thank you, I try to give at least 1200 words (when I don't have too much to work with, 600 for the canon character I'm playing and 600 for my OC). I do prefer quality over quantity, but please, give me something to work with and move the story with me. We are like a team. Also, I prefer to share the rest of the cast like NPCs, playing them to move the story and not just divide them between us. In some scenarios I do like to divide them, for example if you want your OC to confront a villain or another character and you want me to play it so there can be more 'surprises' or 'suspense'? I suck at explaining, I'm sorry.

- Oh, I said that I play a canon and an OC because doubling is kind of a must for me. I love to play my partner's crushes or just favorite characters they want to play against. That being said, some characters are harder for me to play since maybe I'm not so used to their type of personality, but I can always try and learn more about them. Ah! I usually double playing males since I'm more used to MxF pairings (in my side and in my partner's), just saying that I enjoy playing both males and females (and this doesn't mean I'm not open to MxM or FxF).

- I like romance, slow burn and all of that. But I also like adventure and the main genre of the series. Give the drama, let's make them suffer (?).

- I usually use Discord for OOC chat and RP through e-mail (preferred) but I can also RP by Discord. And yeah, I think I'm looking too serious but I do like to meme around OOC, I'm not the most serious person around.

- Since I already had some problems, I do prefer, being myself +18, that my partner is +18. And that if you message me, please add triggerings (I'm not talking just about NSFW please, I know there are some topics people don't like to roleplay about and are SFW in theory).

And now, what I'm searching for in the X-men universe. Important note by the way, I'm talking about the movie universe, being more specific around Days of future past and Apocalypse universe and/or characters. I'm not opposed to AUs. 

I'm searching for two specific characters this time, Quicksilver or Nightcrawler (no preference, I can even double with one of them if you want), to play against them. And about characters I'm more confident about playing them myself (I'm not, again, opposed to try others), I think I can adapt to young Xavier, Quicksilver, Nightcrawler (as I said before), young Beast, and perhaps Angel and Wolverine (I've never tried them but it could be interesting).

Finally, plots? I have two ideas that are more like starting points but I prefer to get to know my partner's preferences before brainstorming and so.

And contact info! neoncat.rp@gmail is the way to go. 

Thanks for reading!

[tawortotu]

Pixelmator batch resize images 無料ダウンロード.How to batch process images with Pixelmator

Pixelmator batch resize images 無料ダウンロード.Pixelmator Classic - パソコン用

                                                                          Choose a workflow type.Pixelmator Photo

    Pixelmator Pro is an image editor designed to make the most powerful professional image editing tools accessible to everyone. And with an extensive collection of tools for editing and retouching photos, creating graphic designs, painting, drawing vector graphics, and adding stunning effects, it’s the only image editor you’ll need Feb 26,  · With Pixelmator Pro Quicksilver, you can now batch process your images using five powerful actions for the Automator app. These actions let you easily automate repetitive tasks by creating complex workflows, greatly speeding up The ultimate beginner’s guide to Pixelmator Pro. Create a realistic T-shirt mockup. Replace the color of objects. Change the background of a photo. Remove the background of an image. A quick overview of every retouching tool. How to extend the background in a photo. How to change the color of an object in a photo    

Pixelmator batch resize images 無料ダウンロード.Resize Images - Pixelmator Classic Tutorials

The ultimate beginner’s guide to Pixelmator Pro. Create a realistic T-shirt mockup. Replace the color of objects. Change the background of a photo. Remove the background of an image. A quick overview of every retouching tool. How to extend the background in a photo. How to change the color of an object in a photo Pixelmator Photo is a powerful, beautiful, and easy to use photo editor for iPad. It features a collection of nondestructive, desktop-class photo editing tools, a set of stunning, machine learning-enhanced film emulation presets, a magical Repair tool to remove unwanted objects from your photos, support for editing RAW images, and more May 30,  · How to batch process images with Pixelmator Tweet. Pixelmator is an image editor for the Mac that provides a lot of the same functionality as Photoshop for the spectacularly low, one-time fee of $I’ve been using it more and more for things like retouching and resizing images. One Photoshop feature I miss, however was batch processing         

 Pixelmator Photo is a powerful, beautiful, and easy to use photo editor for iPad. It features a collection of nondestructive, desktop-class photo editing tools, a set of stunning, machine learning-enhanced film emulation presets, a magical Repair tool to remove unwanted objects from your photos, support for editing RAW images, and more. Watch the film. Pixelmator Photo now fully supports the Apple ProRAW format.

Use simple gestures to precisely adjust the tone curve directly in your images. Enjoy significantly improved shadow and highlight recovery. Customize the visibility of individual color adjustments. Pixelmator Photo brings a desktop photo editing experience to iPad. Advanced Adjustments. Make photos shine using a wide range of powerful, desktop-class color adjustment tools.

Automatically apply Lightness, Color Balance, Selective Color, and other adjustments using a machine learning algorithm trained on 20 million professional photos. ML Adjustments. ML Presets. When you choose a preset after applying ML Enhance, the most important ML Adjustments are retained.

So presets are beautifully consistent and consistently beautiful, no matter the photo. These black and white presets are based on classic black and white films. The black and white look is very versatile and is great for artistic photography, landscapes, portraits, street photography, and many other styles. Especially when you want to add a little drama. Some presets apply film-style grain to create an old-school film feel, others increase contrast for a more striking look.

Inspired by the contemporary color grading process used in the movie and video industry, these presets emulate the cinematic look and feel. Subtle changes to the colors of the shadows and highlights of an image are key to achieving this look. Before digital, there was analog. And many analog films have become legendary for their visual qualities — these presets are based on some of the most well-known and popular analog films. This collection is great for portrait and lifestyle photography, adding a subtle and tasteful vintage look and feel.

Many modern analog films are well regarded for highlighting skin tones, creating pleasing outdoor shots, or having unique grain detail. This collection of presets for landscape photography is designed to boost colors and bring out details in photographs of nature — especially in shots with lots of greens and blues.

Along with color changes, the presets also increase contrast for a more striking and eye-catching look. The vintage look never gets old, especially with a more modern take on the old-school feel. Using a combination of faded shadows, tasteful color tints, and film grain, this collection gives photos an aged, yet contemporary look and feel. Created for urban photography, these presets improve the look of shots taken in cities dominated by buildings, manmade structures, and urban life in general.

Designed for shots taken in low light, this collection works especially well with photos of cities taken at night. The presets bring out details in the highlights and add tasteful color tints for an artistic finishing touch.

This group contains all the presets from Pixelmator Pro, including presets for creating black and white photos, vintage looks, and eye-catching landscape shots. These presets are especially playful and artistic and can work great with a variety of different photography styles. Save any combination of color adjustments as a custom preset to quickly apply them to any of your photos and even share presets with others.

Pixelmator Photo was designed exclusively for iPad, taking full advantage of its large display and bit architecture. It also fully supports great iPadOS features like the trackpad and cursor, Split View, Slide Over, and many others. And it uses iPadOS technologies like Metal, Core ML 2, and Core Image to deliver blazingly fast editing, zooming, and scrolling, even in large images.

So the only thing that can slow you down is your imagination. Pixelmator Pro Pixelmator Photo Pixelmator for iOS Pixelmator Classic Tutorials Blog Community Support. Pixelmator Photo 1. Overview What's New. Apple ProRAW Pixelmator Photo now fully supports the Apple ProRAW format.

On-Image Curves Use simple gestures to precisely adjust the tone curve directly in your images. Shadows and Highlights Enjoy significantly improved shadow and highlight recovery. Customize Adjustments Customize the visibility of individual color adjustments. Desktop-class, nondestructive photo editing tools.

Built and designed exclusively for iPad. iPad Pro

[loyolafilmcircle]

“There was an idea...”

by Renzo Guevara

edited by Anna Cayco

Avengers: Infinity War (2018) is the 19th film in the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU), a franchise that has been relatively consistent in terms of quality and vision for the last 10 years. It’s the massive culminating event that has constantly been set up with the three phases of movies with each of the individual heroes’ adventures leading up to this film.

But Marvel’s massive reputation and cultural impact was not as prominent as it is today. They sold some of their most recognizable characters’ movie rights to other companies such as the X-men and the Fantastic Four to 20th Century Fox and Spiderman to Sony. Their first movie, Iron Man (2008) was a risk to say the least. The concept of an Avengers movie was merely just a thought but never an actual legitimate vision. A fun little innocent scene was placed at the end of the credits, showcasing Samuel L. Jackson’s now iconic character Nick Fury showing up to talk to Robert Downey Jr.’s Tony Stark about the Avengers initiative. Conversations about this scene grew until Marvel Studios revealed its plan to produce more superhero movies to lead up to an Avengers film. Thus, the MCU was born.

The first real culminating event was 2012’s Avengers directed by Joss Whedon. To say that the film was a success is an understatement compared to how exactly fans and critics responded to it. It featured breathtaking action sequences, entertaining interactions between the characters and a carefully crafted three-act structure that successfully combined all the elements that were set-up during the standalone movies. Included in Phase 2 was its sequel, Avengers: Age of Ultron (2015), which featured new characters such as Scarlett Witch, Quicksilver and Vision. Unlike its predecessor, it was met with mixed reactions between the audience and critics. Some commended it for the sheer spectacle on display and seeing our heroes assemble again but in time people soon accepted the fact that the film had a disjointed narrative, a disappointing villain and a few unlikeable characters.

Regardless, these first two Avengers films successfully assembled the heroes and characters we’ve all come to love. It’s not wrong to say that some of us may have garnered some sort of attachment to them that naturally makes us care for what happens throughout the series, especially in Infinity War where stakes are at an all-time high with talks of possible permanent deaths and ending of contracts of certain actors.

What could possibly have created this attachment to this universe is how these movies always tried to set themselves apart not just in their tonality also in the production behind it. The directors the studio hired were not your typical action filmmakers but were more story, character and comedy focused. And it’s also not uncommon to see the MCU go with the recent trend of giving blockbuster projects to directors who mostly made a name for themselves in the indie scene or in television. Filmmakers Anthony and Joe Russo, who were mostly known for the TV series Community (2009-2015), were hired for Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014) and then for Civil War (2016). Both films were met with commercial and critical praise. With engaging plots that were grounded in reality setting it apart from the rest of the MCU, it was a clear choice for Feige to call upon the Russo brothers again to work their magic. And boy did they deliver with Infinity War.

The 3rd Avengers film features an incredible roster of every hero that has been established alongside the Guardians of the Galaxy. This feat has been so monumental in scale and scope that it has often been regarded as the most ambitious crossover event in cinematic history and if I’m being completely honest, it definitely earns that title.

Immediately, the film starts off incredibly strong with the chilling rightful introduction of the main event, Thanos. Gone are the days of post credit setups or small cameos, here we are placed face to face with him alongside his team who are not to be messed with. Thanos as a villain is truly an achievement for the film. You would think that him being a purely CGI creation would make him feel weightless and absent but that’s far from the case. Josh Brolin gives a hauntingly calculated performance that was beautifully motion captured as real emotions were seen, and true terror was felt whenever he was on screen. The MCU has always faced criticism about its villains but recently they have been nailing it in that department especially with Thanos. When people say that Infinity War is a Thanos movie instead of an Avengers one, it’s a valid statement to say. This is ultimately Thanos’ story and the Avengers are simply background characters. Some could even look at them as the real antagonists of the story as Thanos’ actions may be grim but once you deconstruct his motivations, they actually present a proper argument to a certain extent.

A massive cast is something that’s unavoidable with this being a culmination of 10 years’ worth of movies. At times, the film, struggles with the weight it has to carry as it tries to give each character their own individual adventures that all come down to stopping Thanos. Despite this, it doesn’t feel overly bloated. Each of the heroes get a decent amount of screen time. Some may shine more than others, but this can easily be forgiven given that this is technically a two-part storyline and the film was already nearly three hours long.

Considering the run time, the film is still a rollercoaster ride that rarely lets you take a breather. Just from the very first shot all the way to the last you will be left speechless and in pure state of either awe or shock. If in previous MCU movies, the stakes were rarely felt and a sense of danger was minimal, Infinity War turns this over your head and whacks you with it continuously. I wouldn’t say that there were certain throwaway scenes that could’ve been left on the cutting room floor but there were definitely some moments where I was more invested in than others. This can mainly be due to personal attachments to certain characters or just a simple desire to get back to the action. Character moments between our heroes are highly entertaining with the filmmakers and writers taking advantage of each of their quirks and antics that play off of each other. But what’s more impressive is that in its core, the identity of its characters remains intact. When the Guardians are on screen, it feels like a Guardians movie and so on.

But it’s also worth noting that some characters may not act the way we were accustomed to them in their solo movies. This should be expected given the difference of directors and writers and visions towards what and who they are. None were too different to the point where it’s a complete 180 of a character trait but just subtle enough to be noticed a bit or can be argued as part of their arc.

The action sequences in Infinity War are spectacle in its purest form. The Russo brother’s first two films in the MCU, The Winter Soldier and Civil War both contained amazing action scenes but most of them would regularly use quick jump cuts and an overly reliance on shaky and handheld camera work. Infinity War is arguably their first “fantastical” movie as their previous projects in the Captain America franchise were mostly grounded in reality. Thankfully they improved their craft in this one utilizing mostly wide shots and steady cams. The fight choreography and the breathtaking visual effects that supplement them invoke an epic feeling that is so much more emphasized with the familiar iconic score of the Avengers theme. One moment in particular near the climax had all these elements come together to create one bombastic moment that had the entire theater screaming in delight.

On the topic of the Avengers theme, Alan Silvestri’s score for this film also deserves much praise for what it accomplished. Although it should be expected given that the Avengers score is one of the most recognizable themes today, Silvestri’s new pieces in this film are as memorable and impactful as the scene themselves. The action sequences are injected with auditory adrenaline rush coupled with the masterful sound design and mixing but even the slower, more emotionally driven moments in the film contain some of the best scores to come out of the MCU.

All in all, it really was incredible to witness the development of the MCU franchise from its humble beginnings with Iron Man all the way down to Infinity War. All the stories the directors have told and all the elements they had to set up all coming into fruition in this one epic cinematic event. The Russo brothers deserve all the praise they could get for accomplishing this monumental task. Many have tried and failed to launch a cinematic universe such as the DCEU or Universal Studio’s Dark Universe, but it’s with the MCU that truly believes in its own vision and in the stories they tell.

All the beats in Infinity War hit when they need to. Wonder and spectacle alongside tension and emotion jell together for one massive sweep that generally satisfies majority of the hype that developed over the years. A global cinematic event that deserves to be seen and a proper payoff to all those years of excellence. Infinity War is definitely up there with the best of the MCU and it cements itself as one we would be talking about years down the line. The future of the franchise looks bright and with the continuation of the storyline scheduled to release next year, it’s only a matter of time till we see our favorite heroes assemble once again.

Photo sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6

[holmesoverture]

Eileen Goes on a Rant, Ritchie Holmes Edition

Recently I saw a gifset of that scene from Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows where Holmes warns Watson that “we’re about to be violated.”  I didn’t want to unload on some innocent person’s post, but dang it I’ve been meaning to talk about this for a while and now is as good a time as any.

A Game of Shadows is racist as hell.

On the whole, I do like this movie.  I think it’s fun, Mycroft is great and I like screaming about the barely-concealed subtext as much as any other fangirl.  But that doesn’t change the fact that it is SUPER SUPER RACIST FFS WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU ADKFJ;ASLDKFA

*deep breath*

Okay, let’s take a step back.  In fact, let’s get some historical perspective, courtesy of the original stories.  I’m putting it behind a cut because it got kind of long and angry and sweary, and I didn’t want anyone being subjected to that if they don’t wanna be.  Also, spoilers.

First things first.  G***y is a racial slur and I don’t ever want to see it in the media again unless you are explaining how terrible it is and how anyone without Romani ancestry should never, ever use it.  And no, I don’t want to hear any handwringing about “but historical accuracy!!”  It would have been historically accurate for Tiana to be called a negro and worse throughout The Princess and the Frog but I don’t hear anyone advocating for that. Not everything needs to be THAT accurate.

As you may have noticed, media depiction of Roma is either nonexistent or hideously awful. There’s very little in between.  As far as I remember, no Roma characters actually appear in any of the original Sherlock Holmes stories, but they are brought up from time to time.  In The Speckled Band, the Romani folks who camp out on Roylott’s property are initially regarded as the most likely suspects in Julia Stoner’s murder—or rather, the police regard them as the most likely suspects.  Holmes knows better than to let prejudice get in the way of his sleuthing and disregards this unsubstantiated, bigotry-based theory with relative swiftness.  In the end, of course, the Roma are shown to be innocent while the white guy is hoist by his own petard.

I think The Speckled Band is the story where Roma are acknowledged most prominently. They rate a quick mention in The Hound of the Baskervilles as well, but it is really just a passing comment from Dr. Mortimer that leads nowhere.  If they’re mentioned elsewhere, I can’t remember at the moment.  Feel free to chime in with anything I missed.

Basically, ACD seems to play with common prejudices to throw people off the scent and maybe even to show the folly of racial stereotyping and hasty judgments.  So Sherlock Holmes stories have a history of bucking stereotypes, even if they never let any Romani characters speak for themselves.

A Game of Shadows, meanwhile, does depict actual Romani characters.  How did they do?  Errrr…

Yeah, it’s bad.  Real bad.  When we first meet Simza, our main Romani character, she’s telling fortunes, because no Romani woman has ever had any other occupation ever in history.  So right out of the gate we’re in facepalm territory.  

@ Guy Ritchie Go directly to jail, do not pass go, do not collect $200.

And then they make it worse in exactly the way you’d expect them to.  Virtually all of the Romani characters in this movie, as exemplified by the hilarious scene when Holmes warns Watson of the impending violation, are depicted as cheerfully shameless thieves.

You may regard this picture as both an illustration of the scene in question and a representation of my face whenever I watch this scene.

First off, what happened to the open-minded Holmes who didn’t condemn an entire race based on society’s prejudices?  Why is he automatically assuming that they’re about to be robbed just because they’ve driven up to a Romani camp?  Canon Holmes would never.

Second, this is one of the most common and harmful stereotypes concerning Romani people.  I guess you could argue that the Romani characters here were just messing around or testing Holmes and Watson to see if they could be trusted, but who is going to think that hard about this?  The Rom-as-thief stereotype is so pervasive and so widely believed that, even if that was your (incredibly shitty) intention, very few viewers are going to think hard enough about this scene to “get it,” because they don’t think they have to.  Of course the Roma are stealing from the white people.  That’s what they do.

When was the last time you saw a Romani character who wasn’t a thief?  Hell, the first place many of us probably ever heard of the Romani people was Disney’s The Hunchback of Notre Dame, which has plenty of its own problems.  And although I can think of a few superheroes with Romani backgrounds—Robin/Nightwing from DC and Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver from Marvel—these characters are whitewashed so often that most people probably don’t even realize they’re supposed to be Roma at all, so that’s no help.

AND SPEAKING OF WHITEWASHING, LET’S DISCUSS NOOMI RAPACE, SHALL WE?

There are few things that annoy me in a movie more than whitewashing, especially in contemporary films that a) should know better and b) have enough budget to, say, creep us the hell out by sticking Chris Evans’ head on Leander Deeny’s body for half the running time but somehow don’t have the resources to hire Asian people to star in shows that steal copiously from Asian culture.  That is some BS right there, and A Game of Shadows merrily jumps right into it.

I don’t know about any of the other actors in this movie, but Rapace has stated that she maybe might be part Rom on her father’s side, which, nope, sorry, that’s not cutting any mustard with me.  It’s the Johnny Depp-as-Tonto argument all over again.  Depp had zero business being in The Lone Ranger and Rapace has zero business being in A Game of Shadows.  STOP REACHING SO HARD AND HIRE ACTORS OF COLOR YOU COWARDS.

The one positive (?) I could find in all this is that not all the Romani characters are depicted as villains.  Once they quit robbing and swindling our heroes blind (ugh), they’re willing to do just about anything to stop Moriarty, even up to and including risking their own lives.  Sure, some of them are crazy extremists who want to blow stuff up and kill people, but just as many, if not more, reject those methods.  They may be sticky-fingered stereotypes, but they are sticky-fingered stereotypes with STANDARDS.  Which doesn’t make it any better, really, but it doesn’t… make it worse…?

So I mean A Game of Shadows is not The Absolute Worst, but for crying out loud there’s an episode* of The Man from UNCLE that does a better job at depicting Romani characters than this movie did.  It’s still racist as all get-out, but they are shown across the board to be decent people. They may be highly suspicious of the white people around them, but it’s shown categorically that they have very good reason to be and also they aren’t fortune tellers and thieves.  When a goddamn black-and-white TV show from nineteen sixty fucking four does a better job of portraying a minority than you, you need to go back to the drawing board, smack yourself in the face with it and stop.  Just… just stop.

I think I’ve said about all I have to say on this subject.  I’m not even going to get into Holmes dressing up as a Chinese man in the beginning. I’m too tired, and the theme of this post turned out to be specifically the depiction of the Romani characters anyway, so that’d feel a bit shoehorned.  But that sucked too, in case you had any doubts.  And don’t tell me that he had to disguise himself.  I could think of a dozen other disguises right now that don’t involve yellowface.  That shit’s not cool, yo.

If you’re interested in learning more about Romani stereotypes and how and why you should avoid them like the devil plague, here is a post about them written by a Rom.  So if you actually want to be educated on the subject instead of just reading my ranty babbling, there ya go.

TL;DR I love Sherlock Holmes and hate racism, and so should you.  Have a nice day.

*It’s called The Terbuf Affair, if you want to check it out.  That being said, when I say “an episode,” I mean this one particular episode and no others.  Some other Romani characters show up later in the season, in The Bow Wow Affair, and I could write a post twice the length of this one about how physically painful it is.

[driftinglightofthewoods]

Quick Thinking || Drabble

-shrugs excessively-

I have no excuse.

tagging @legolasgoldy because lbr these drabbles only make sense to you

All in all, it was a usual night. Pietro rarely slept anyway, sitting still was hard enough on its own, laying still for the same eight hours of sleep everyone else needed was something he couldn’t accomplish every night.

So, instead, he was tossing a ball up at the ceiling, trying to keep himself occupied as music trickled through the headset he had on. However, something was disrupting the flow of the music with the rhythm of the ball hitting the ceiling. He sat up straight, looking to the bed on the other side of the room with curious intent.

He had been sharing the room with the new student for a couple of weeks now, slowly getting to know Eredhon; a task more easily said than done as the latest edition to the school student body was a rather closed off and shy individual. But Pietro considered the small talk they had had at least some sort of progress.

The other seemed to be peacefully asleep, so Pietro was about to return to his ball tossing when the heap of blankets made a rather jumpy move. He raised an eyebrow, taking of the headphones to hang them around his neck.

He couldn’t hear much being at his side of the room, but the short and almost raspy breaths of air he did hear had him convinced the other was having nightmares. Well, that wasn’t really uncommon either; unfortunately Eredhon seemed to suffer a lot from nightmares. However, Pietro couldn’t recall a time during the few weeks where Eredhon had been tossing and turning as badly as he did now. He wondered if he should go over and wake the other teen up, but somewhere in his thought process Eredhon suddenly sat up. Pietro jumped a little, still not sure if he should approach the other.

“Eredhon?”

No response, as the teen’s long black hair obscured his face like a veil; a sight that almost made Pietro think Eredhon would be a good extra for a horror movie in such a fashion. Was he still asleep?

“Are you alright?”

He was met with nothing but silence, making Pietro shiver for a moment. Was it a common occurrence for people to just randomly sit up in bed and not make noise? Wait- Eredhon was making noise; the sound of someone drawing in a breath after they had just been crying, but that wasn’t what was making Pietro worried; the fact that the windows trembled with anticipation as the other mutant breathed in.

It was a split second to anyone else, but Pietro could clearly look Eredhon in the eyes as the teen drew back, his hair no longer obscuring his face; a hazed over, dark gaze where shy, grey eyes used to be. Pietro gulped, quickly putting his headphones back over his ears as something deep within him told him that whatever was going to happen wasn’t going to be pleasant.

And it wasn’t.

The harrowing, icy shriek that came out of the other boy seemed never ending and constant in pitch; vibrating the windows and mirrors in the room so much that Pietro could only worry about them shattering and either harming himself or Eredhon. It was only when he felt the vibration in the very foundation of the building that Pietro actually felt afraid. “Eredhon!” he yelled, trying to get over the sound of the shrieking

“Wake up! You’re going to bring the entire building down! Wake up!”

Of course, with such ruckus and chaos everyone within the building was rudely awoken from their sleep. Younger students were quickly ushered out of the building by older ones, while Charles and Hank tried to get to the source as quickly as possible; the professor immediately reached out to the conscious mind in the room.

Pietro, what is going on?

It’s Eredhon. His nightmares are doing this, I can’t wake him up!

Get out of there. Hank and I will solve this.

I’m sorry, professor. I can’t let you in here.

“He’s blocking the door,” Charles sighed, unsure of what Quicksilver was even planning on doing locking himself in with an agitated mutant’s powers going haywire. Super speed was hardly even going to help him deal with the vocal enhancement of Eredhon being set off like this.

Well, yes, Pietro was aware of that… after he had shoved the dresser and his bed against the door and was now trying to convince his panicking brain to think of something before either the teachers broke in, or the place came down: whichever would come first.

He turned to Eredhon, who still seemed to be completely engulfed in whatever dream was so bad that it caused all of this; and then Pietro paused for a moment. Were those tears? Yes.. yes they were. He felt a sigh escaping his lips, a sudden sense of sorrow creeping up on him. If anything, Eredhon was clearly just scared. Was there really nothing he could do about this?

“Pietro, open this door!”

He considered listening to Hank for only a second.

When he got no reply from banging his fist on the door or shouting to be let in, Hank had no other choice but to take matters into his own hands. If they were going to keep the building in one piece, they had to get in that room. So he ripped and tore away at the door; completely ignoring Charles calling his name several times until he had found a way to barge in.

It was only when he did that he noticed the effects had died down, and everything quickly went quiet. He never took his eyes of the scene in front of him, not even when Charles joined his side.

On the bed where the chaos had all started sat Quicksilver, arms firmly wrapped around the other mutant. He kept him close, keeping Eredhons head lightly against his chest as the teen finally seemed to have woken from his nightmares. The only sounds still heard were those of small sobs, and gentle hushes of reassurance.