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shirophantomvox · 3 years

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Illumi Analysis | Hisoka Analysis | Killua Analysis

What’s up, everybody! I am back yet again with another Hunter x Hunter post. You all really like my Hisoka and Illumi character analysis and thoughts. I figured why not analyze Chrollo as well? Apparently, Chrollo, Hisoka, and Illumi are considered the Adult Trio on here so that is why I used the tag. I understand that this is a Voltron blog but I changed it into a multi because I have a love for other shows that deserve to be talked about. I post these character analyses because they will help me define and develop characters of my own and I love talking about them. Where are they from? What do they do in their spare time? And so on. Read the entire post for links and references!

Let’s get into the post!

I’ve stated in my "Hunter x Hunter Thoughts #2" post that Chrollo caught my attention immediately in the Yorknew City Arc. It was a combination of his large eyes, his calm, smooth voice, the tattoo on his forehead, and his hairstyle. I’ve noticed that my heart flutters a little when these characters speak (don't make it weird. You know what I mean) because their voices are smooth and calm. I think this tactic often used to get the viewers to “love” the villain regardless of any wrongdoings they do in the show. I noticed numerous things about him that made me wonder why he dresses the way he does, why is he so calm and dark, and why does he lurk in the shadows?

I have to be honest. One thing that often annoys me about several anime/manga(s) is they introduce SEVERAL characters at once, push some characters off to the very end, and do not give proper backstories for villains, especially. I don’t side with villains but a backstory should be a necessity. The only main antagonist that has a proper backstory is Illumi because we know that he was raised by crazy assassins. Hisoka doesn't have a backstory except for a one-shot that isn’t canon and neither does Chrollo.

I’ve only seen 2 flashbacks regarding Chrollo and his past. He was born in Meteor City which was a town full of trash; no houses, plants, or schools. It is implied that he only survived from stealing from others. His current members are people he met in his hometown. Chrollo often states that he is the head of the group and if he dies, he trusts that they’ll make a great decision on who the new leader will be. In the present, Gon asks him how he could kill people he didn’t know. The silence and rhythmic thunder-claps imply that he doesn’t know why.

Is it something he does...impulsively? Throughout this arc, it seems that Chrollo is having somewhat of an identity crisis. He has stated several times about trying to figure out “who he is”. By that, Chrollo must not like to steal and destroy but to him, that is what he needs to do to survive.

This raises the question of: “If he has stolen for all these years, why is he still living in a destroyed church?”

He’s been a bandit for years. I’m sure he’s on the radar somewhere. He can’t walk around with the troupe members in broad daylight because someone will recognize them. Maybe this is why they only travel in the dark. Machi was brave for walking from Heaven’s Arena in the dark.

He can’t buy a house. What name, card info, or co-leaders would sign the lease? He’s a bandit, remember. His face is somewhere waiting to be caught.

He has accepted this state of living. I thought that since he lived in a trash town that he would want to live in a luxurious place if he could, but no. He lives in a destroyed church, in darkness, and only speaks to his members.

When Chrollo stole the girl’s ability to tell the future, he took it for two reasons. A) because he needed it to see what would happen to Uvo in the new world and B) because the girl’s father used her ability for money and didn’t care for her.

The only reason why I feel an ounce of sympathy for him and not Illumi is it seems like Chrollo raised himself. He took it upon himself to steal and whatnot so he could eat. Chrollo came from nothing while Illumi had a mansion, butlers, protection, and anything he wanted. FYI, just because you have a luxurious lifestyle doesn’t mean you’re happy but in this case, Illumi had shelter while Chrollo didn’t.

Face

Chrollo’s face is what I aspire to create for my own OC’s but manage to fail every time. His face matches his body. If it weren’t for his tattoo and his main hairstyle, I wouldn’t have thought he was a threat to anyone. His face is well-rounded and reminds me of a young adult. His skin is pale and often covered in shadows because he is always in a room that is only lit by a candle. His ears are rather large for his head, but they match ok. Although, I wish his tattoo was removed. To me, that ruins his character design. He already has an inverted cross on his coat and is implied by the destroyed church he lives in. The tattoo just reminds me of a cult for some reason and that is why he gave me unsettling feelings at first.

Eyes

Chrollo’s large eyes are another feature that had me aghast. Some people love big eyes, but his grey pupils capture you almost like you're hypnotized to do anything he wants. They’re a pretty shade of grey, though.

Hair

I am going to say this loud and proud: CHROLLO LOOKS MUCH BETTER WITH HIS HAIR DOWN! Yes, to me he looks much respectable, mature, and serious with it down. His hair is jet black and is shiny like Illumi’s. I could only imagine if I had the chance to touch his hair, the dye would come off on my hands. The down look? The best way to go!

Clothes

His clothes are very stylish. The coat he wears would be PERFECT for the winter seasons! If I ever cosplay, I’m wearing that coat while it's snowing. In the first scene, he was seen wearing a black shirt with white lines going in numerous directions. After that, the creators decided to let his rippling chest show for the rest of the arc. Damn, rippling chests have been a popular decision and NO ONE is complaining! His black pants remind me of skinny jeans and even if they are, he’s lucky because I CANNOT wear skinny jeans. Once I wore them, bent over, and ripped them! I said to myself, “WTF? I paid $35 for these!”

Shoes

He wears black boots that reach up to his leg. He isn’t as stylish as Illumi and Hisoka, but that’ll do. His clothing is much simpler for anyone to cosplay.

Voice

As stated above, Chrollo has a soft, calm voice. He is the only villain I’ve seen that maintains composure during tough situations. I don't know if this was planned or not, but the main antagonists have calm soothing voices. When Chrollo went out with the fortune teller, I forgot he only did that for his selfish gain. I thought he generally enjoyed the date.

In conclusion, I wish Chrollo had a backstory like many characters in this manga. I think Hisoka and Chrollo’s backstory would be the most interesting to me. When these twisted characters appear before us, you want to know why they became this way. Having an empty villain isn’t good and is quite annoying.

Thank you for reading this post! If you’d like me to analyze any characters from Voltron or Hunter x Hunter, send me an ask!

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quadraphonictypewriter · 4 years

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Sunday Romance, week 20!

I saw this week’s prompt and it brought dialogue to my mind that I decided to expand on. The prompt from @sunday-romance was “fix you” which I have decided to explore through my wip, Rushing Whispers.

I am going to tag @ritchieblackless so she sees this :):)

Word count: 1,254

*brief mention of nudity but no description, and nothing further.

FYI this includes spoilers for Rushing Whispers, but honestly, it’s not a huge shock so go nuts

INFO: This is written from Lee’s POV, some time in July 1974, as Amoeba nears the end of yet another tour.

“I’m going to head into the shower,” Liliane told me in a quiet voice, closing the bathroom door behind her without another word.

I sat down in one of the armchairs and picked up a magazine from the table. Luckily there wasn’t an album review in sight, but the upcoming winter’s fashion trends were of no interest to me. Regardless, I kept my eyes on the page I’d turned to, if only to distract part of myself.

We’d been touring for the better part of eighteen months, first to promote our last studio album and now to follow the recent live record with a solid amount of performances, and it had undoubtedly worn us down. We were in another hotel in another city, and I’d be hard pressed to tell you which one.

It bothered me that I couldn’t quite place what was upsetting her. Liliane had been with me all year, despite my insistence that she shouldn’t feel bad if she chose to stay in Scotland, and I’d love her no less for it. She and Emily had spent a good portion of last year in Scotland, while Amoeba were trucked off from one city to the next seemingly non-stop.

Maybe it was something to do with Emily’s announcement, I wondered. Earlier we’d all gone out to a restaurant for supper, and Emily walked in with a bow around her waist. ‘I’m pregnant,’ she’d told us, her words spaced with giggles and excitement. Apparently she’d known for more than a week, and I supposed it irked Liliane to have been kept in the dark about it.

I still had my eyes on the magazine page when Liliane came back into the room. The towel she’d dried off with was wrapped around her, which struck me as odd— she’d stopped being shy about being nude in front of me long ago.

“Enjoy the shower?” I asked, lifting my gaze towards her.

Liliane slipped on a pair of underwear and nodded. “It was nice,” was all she replied. She let the towel fall to the ground, but quickly covered up with a nightshirt.

It made me feel sick to see her so upset and not even know if I could help her; so I put the magazine down and walked over, desperate to comfort her. “Will you tell me what’s bothering you?” I whispered.

Liliane frowned but looked as if she would speak, though she just huffed in frustration.

I put out my hand and she took it, so I pulled her into a hug. “You won’t sleep a wink if you don’t say something,” I reminded her in a soft tone. “I know you won’t.”

“I know,” she grumbled, her head resting on my chest.

“I’d like you to tell me, but I won’t make you.” I kissed her hair, the sweet smell of her shampoo filling my nose. “We can go to bed if you’d like. Just wake me when you want to talk,” I added with a quiet chuckle.

Liliane lifted her head and smiled, though it was only a slight curve of her lips. “I can do that.”

...

It had been more than an hour since we’d gotten under the sheets and closed the light, but Liliane was still far from sleep. My body had relaxed enough that I had twice drifted towards sleep, but both times I’d been brought back to wakefulness by Liliane shifting position.

Her breathing was deep and steady, though my own breath caught in my throat when she put her hand in mine. I rubbed the back of her hand with my thumb, and she squeezed my hand.

“I love you, Flower Face,” I murmured.

Liliane let out a short chuckle. “That’s such a silly name,” she scoffed in amusement.

“It’s not. Not when I mean it so lovingly.”

“I love you too.”

I smiled, though neither of us could see anything.

“It’s something I already knew,” Liliane confessed after a few minutes of silence. “But it slapped me in the face today.”

“What did?”

“Realization,” she mumbled. “Disappointment, too. I thought I’d already accepted it, but I guess I didn’t. It hurts more, this time.”

“What is it?” I repeated, my concern evident.

Liliane sighed. When she answered me, her voice was thick with sadness. “I can’t have children, Lee. I’m not able to get pregnant.”

Every odd thing I’d noticed since this evening’s announcement suddenly made sense. “Emily’s news hit a tender spot,” I spoke quietly.

“I’m happy for her, and for Cameron,” she urged. “I really am. But I can’t help being sad for me, and for you.” Her voice was only a whisper.

“Why would you be sad for me?” I still held her hand, and rubbed her arm reassuringly.

Liliane sniffled, and though I wanted to turn on the lamp and show her the emotions I knew were clear on my features, I also knew it was easier for her to tell me this in the dark.

“I don’t… I thought, maybe, one day you’d like to have a kid. But I can’t give you that.”

Her last words were uttered through tears, and I pulled her closer to me. “That doesn’t matter, Liliane. Not to me,” I assured her. “I wouldn’t care if you were missing a kidney or you’d lost an earlobe in an accident, and this is no different.”

“It is.”

“No,” I countered firmly. “If this was the ace up your sleeve to get rid of me, it’s not working,” I added in an attempt to lighten the conversation. “I’m still going to marry you, and I’m still going to love you as much as I always have.”

“You’re going to marry me?” Liliane repeated, seemingly surprised. “Open the light.”

I leaned over and clicked the lamp switch, then turned to her with a shy grin. “Of course. I wanted a better reveal, maybe a few candles or something,” I admitted to her. “But if you’ll have me, Liliane, of course I will.”

The smile that appeared on her face was a stark contrast to the redness around her eyes and the tears on her cheeks, but I revelled in the joy I’d just given her. Even if I’d messed up a traditional proposal, at least she knew I’d always want her as my own.

She kissed me, pressing her lips against my own for a moment that was much too brief. “That’s good to know,” she murmured, the smile lingering on her face.

I brushed a strand of hair out of her face and gazed at her amusedly. “Were you worried about it?”

“I’d certainly asked myself questions,” she told me before pausing. “But I’ve seen you make faces at babies and turn to mush over them, so… I worried.”

I shook my head. “That I’d want you and children, or not at all? Has your brain gone to jelly? Come here.”

Liliane scooted closer to me and laid her head on my chest. “You’re really good to me,” she whispered. “You’re a good man, Lee.”

“And all the better for loving you,” I replied, reaching my arm towards the bedside table to turn off the lamp. I felt her exhale deeply, and smiled to myself. “Get some sleep, Liliane. We’ve got a box of condoms to burn in the morning.”

Her laugh rang out, and was so joyful that I couldn’t help but laugh as well. If I could hear her laughter every day, I told myself, I’d give up everything else in a heartbeat.

#sundaylove #sunday romance #wip rushing whispers

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i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend · 5 years

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Queer Eye for the Cap Guy ~ Part 7

A/N: Hi my lovelies! This story is back too!!! I’m really excited So just as an FYI there will be one more main part of this story. and then I have 2-3 “off screen scenes “ that will come out after the story is completed. I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Steve gets to see his new place and the Fab Five get to see the new Steve

Rating: T

Warnings; Language, Manly tears, feels,

Word Count: 3042

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

The Fab Five Reveal (Retired, Refreshed, and Ready to Live)

“Are you ready to see the new space?” Karamo asked as they pulled up to the building.

“Yes, I can’t wait to see what Bobby did with the place.”

“Well, we’re here.”

Karamo honked before hopping out of the truck and leading Steve to the side door.

“Boys, we’re here,” Karamo called as he cracked open the door.

“Come on in!”

Steve stopped dead in his tracks as he crossed the threshold.

“Oh my god. Holy – wow.”

He was vaguely aware of the fab five gushing over his new look, but he honestly tuned out as his eyes darted around the room, first, tactically and then in awe.

The first floor was now sectioned off into two areas, separated by a clear fiberglass wall. The side closest to the front of the building was set up as a garage. His bike had already been parked inside and there was a very professional tool chest on wheels set next to a plush couch. He spied a tag from Tony on the tool chest and smiled.

“Holy shit.”

“You said that you loved working on your bike, and I wanted to leave you enough space if you wanted to work on something larger like a car, but I also wanted to do something really fun,” Bobby explained as they walked past the divider.

The other half of the floor had a ton of workout equipment and even a basketball hoop.

“This is great. I had no idea what to do with this space. Just wow. I’ll never get Bucky and Sam out of here,” he chuckled.

“Well that I can’t help you with. Let’s go see some more.”

Bobby led the way up the stairs to the partial second floor. The room had floor to ceiling bookshelves on one wall and a large mahogany desk, with a leather chair.

“So I decided to make this room your office because it gives you a space where you can work, but when you’re done the papers can stay here and it won’t bleed into the rest of your life.”

Steve nodded absently as he admired the art on the wall. Two large charcoal sketches – one of Brooklyn from his youth and one of Brooklyn when he came out of the ice - flanked the paned window.

“This is awesome. And I like that it’s separate. I’m not the best at balance.”

“I totally get that. It’s really hard, but this will help.”

“Agreed.”

“Now, let’s go see the rest of your space.”

They took the elevator up to the third floor and this time Steve’s knees fully buckled.

“Are you sure this is the same building?” he asked sounding breathless.

“I’m sure.”

“You’re amazing. This is amazing. Thank you so much. I’m not sure how but, you figured out exactly what I wanted.”

“That’s what I’m here for. I wanted this whole floor to be open concept. That way people can be watching TV or cooking or eating and still all be together.”

“Perfect,” Steve mumbled, unable to say much more than the simple words of praise.

Bobby gently guided him to the right towards the kitchen.

“So, here we’ve got tons of prep space, and you can eat at the counter if it’s just you or it’s something casual. But I also wanted you to have a full dining table and I figured between all of the combinations of Avengers dinner parties could get pretty large so this expands to fit twenty.”

“I guess I’m hosting Thanksgiving this year.”

“You certainly could.”

Moving further into the room, Steve ran his fingers along the smooth mahogany of the billiards table.

“I know we didn’t talk about it, but Bucky and Sam mentioned that you’re a fan of pool so we got you this.”

“It’s beautiful. And I love pool.”

His attention was drawn to the artwork on the wall.

“I love that you got Bucky’s photos properly framed.”

“As we were packing up your old place, I noticed that you didn’t have a ton of things that were you, but you lots of things from your friends and I really wanted to honor that.”

“It’s wonderful. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Bobby replied warmly.

After a moment, Steve turned his focus to the living room.

“I love this sectional. It’s exactly what I envisioned.”

“Good, and we also have –“

“The wingback chair,” Steve breathed. “This is just like the one my ma had.” He sniffed and swiped at his eyes. “How did you know exactly what to get?”

“Well you gave a pretty good description, but I also asked Bucky to weigh in on the final decision.”

“It’s perfect.”

“Have a seat.”

Steve sank down into the soft leather, wriggling slightly to get comfortable; his fingers knotted in the heavy knit afghan that adorned it. Even that felt familiar.

“It’s just like I remembered it.”

He savored the moment, shutting his eyes and letting himself feel like a little kid again. If he shed a tear or two Bobby didn’t comment. When his eyes snapped open the focused on the wall opposite him which was littered in pictures.

“Are those…”

He was on his feet in moments, striding over to inspect them. All of the pictures were black and white. About three quarters of them were modern pictures taken at parties and hangouts. Bucky, Sam, Nat, and Y/n were featured heavily. But a few photos were of the Howlies and Peggy which was lovely but not completely surprising. What Steve was flabbergasted by were the photos of him and Bucky as children and of him with his mother.

“How could you possibly have found these?” His voice shook and he was crying hard enough that he could not see Bobby let alone the pictures clearly anymore.

“When you went in the ice, the government appropriated all of your belongings. Most of it got sent to the archives of the Smithsonian. Y/n and I worked with a really lovely historian there and got them released.”

“Y/n?” Steve asked.

“Yeah. She wanted to do this and actually she’d already started the ball rolling, I just helped integrate into the place. She flew to D.C. a couple days ago to get the photographs.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much,” Steve sniffled, and reaching out to hug Bobby, who despite being smaller was clearly supporting the super soldier. “I haven’t seen a photo of my mom since I went in the ice. I thought they were all lost. This is everything.”

Bobby held tight as Steve’s body shuddered as he cried before finally gathering his composure and taking a deep but shaky breath.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, but Bobby was already shaking his head.

“Don’t ever apologize for crying. It’s completely natural. Now are you ready to see more?”

“I’m not sure my heart can take much more, but let’s do it,” he agreed blowing out a long breath.

The master bedroom took up half of the top floor and was decorated in blues and grays. It was perfectly calm and Steve was already looking forward to spending some time just relaxing.

“Any guesses on what’s through that door?” Bobby teased.

“Not a clue,” Steve admitted.

His normal battlefield evaluation skills were lacking today.

“Go and see.”

“NO WAY!” he practically shouted as he opened the door stepped into his new art studio.

He understood now why you exited the elevator into the bedroom. The studio had windows on three sides, guaranteeing him not only the best light but the best views.

“I was planning to set an easel up in the garage.”

“Well, I think this is a lot better.”

“Oh tons.”

“And if you want to enjoy this view from your bed, you can. The walls are partition walls and you can push them off to the side whenever you want.”

“That’s brilliant. I honestly, I know I keep saying the same things over and over again, but I’m completely speechless. I had no idea what to do with any of these spaces, let alone the whole building top to bottom. If I had it my way, I probably would have been living out of boxes with wooden crate furniture. But this is… home. I haven’t felt at home maybe ever. And to walk into this space and have it feel like me here and now is just so unbelievable. Thank you,” Steve gushed, hugging him again, although without sagging into him this time.

“I’m so glad that you feel this way and that I was able to do this for you. Everyone deserves to feel that their space is theirs. And that it suits them. You deserve a place where you want to come back to and that you want to share with others.”

“And I do.”

“Good. Now, I have one last surprise for you.”

“How can there possibly be more,” Steve laughed in an exhale.

“Well, like you said, I redesigned the whole building from the bottom up. And there’s more level above us.”

“You didn’t.”

Bobby merely pointed and gestured for Steve to lead the way. The super soldier took the steps in three bounds and burst onto the roof.

“Oh my god.”

The roof had been transformed. The lone folding chair was gone, replaced with black wicker patio set with a loveseat, chairs, and a coffee table. There was also greenery along the whole perimeter, and lanterns.

“I know you love it up here. So I wanted to make sure it was –“

“A sanctuary,” he completed.

“Exactly.”

Steve was reluctant to leave his little slice of heaven, but Jonathan brooked no room for arguing.

“So, welcome to your beautiful master bathroom which we have set for all of your grooming needs.”

“Great. Because I’d have no idea what to buy.”

“I gotchu, henny,” he opened the drawer next to the sink to reveal several styling tools. “So we’ve got your razor with guards for keeping your beard nice and neat as well as a hair dryer. You probably won’t use that day to day but if you want to you can. I showed you how to work with that.”

“Yes, the twist and pull technique.”

“Exactly. And we’ve got a beard oil just to keep it soft. So two drops after your shower.”

“Got it.”

And I got you a great pomade. So, take a little in your hands and you’re going to work it in. Once you can feel it grab onto your hair, you can take a little bit of a lighter touch and once your hair is basically where you want leave it.”

Steve fiddled with his hair for a few moments before he was satisfied.

“Perfect,” Jonathan announced. “You are such a dreamboat.”

The super soldier’s cheeks turned pink.

“Seriously. You are so radiant from the inside out. So gorgeous.”

“Thank you.”

“And I have one last thing to remind you about. Sunscreen. I don’t care if you’re a super soldier. Sunscreen. Every day. That’s an order.”

“Yes, sir,” Steve chuckled.

“Good.”

“Can I steal him?” Tan asked as he popped into the bathroom?

“Absolutely. He’s all yours.”

“Come on, handsome. Let’s get you into some outfits.”

“Let’s do it.”

Tan led him over to the large closet.

“So we’ve organized your closet in a way that makes sense for you, which means casual to formal. So we’ve got your pants, jeans, khakis, dress pants. And then your shirts, t-shirts, short sleeve shirts, long sleeve shirts, sweaters, jackets. And suits.”

“Makes sense. I’ll just have to move some stuff to make room for my sweatpants,” Steve commented with a grin.

“I know that you’re a super soldier but if you go around wearing sweatpants after all this I will throw down with you.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

Tan glared slightly before reaching past him for a garment bag.

“Now, tomorrow is a formal event, so I got you a tux.”

“Wow. This is awesome. And definitely the nicest thing I’ve ever owned,” he admitted when Tan opened the bag. “I love the color.”

“I thought you would. It’s gonna look killer.”

The fab five were sitting on the couch talking when the elevators opened. They’d been strictly instructed not to peek.

“Are you ready for the first look, boys.”

“Yes!”

“Well see for yourself.”

Steve stood with his hand in the pocket of a dark blue suit which fit him perfectly. He looked like a movie star.

“OH MY GOSH. YOU LOOK AMAZING,” Karamo bellowed.

Jonathan let out a high pitched squeal.

“Tan, that suit is the perfect fit.”

As he walked closer, they couldn’t help but notice the confidence in his stride.

“How do you feel?” Antoni asked.

“I feel great. I think this is the first time I’ve worn a suit and not felt like a monkey in a tie.”

“You look fantastic.”

“I love the color.”

“So we also got him a gray and a black suit so he has them for important events. Press conferences, meetings.”

“Announcing a campaign for presidency,” Jonathan suggested.

“I’d vote for you,” Karamo agreed.

“I don’t see that in the cards,” Steve laughed.

“You never know.”

When the elevator opened the second time, Steve didn’t hesitate before striding over to the couch in dark jeans, a white Henley, and a bluish gray cardigan.

“Yassssssss.”

“I love this entire look.”

“Do you love it?”

One look at the broad grin on his face gave the answer.

“Oh completely. It’s so comfortable, but I feel really good about how I look as well.”

“I wasn’t expecting the cardigan,” Bobby commented.

“Tan had to make sure I looked my age,” Steve joked.

“I told you I’d get you a cardigan that makes sense for you.”

“And you did. It’s nice, I don’t feel restricted at all.”

“Good. And if you do want a going out look, just slide off the cardigan and slip on this jacket.”

“Yas. Sign me up.”

“You look so cool.”

“I kept your classic brown leather jacket. This is just a more modern option.”

“I love a collarless leather jacket.”

“And the black is so sleek. You look great.”

“Thank you.”

“Now, are you ready to cook?” Antoni asked clapping his hands together.

“Yes.”

He followed the food and wine expert towards the kitchen after slipping off the leather jacket.

“So Bobby and I designed the space with a lot of function and a little bit of fun. So we got you a pasta maker, I already have the lasagna attachment on. And this slab of the counter is for chocolate work so you can temper it and make those chocolate curls or anything else that you want. Today we’re going to use it to chop up some chocolate to make, any guesses?”

He looked at the bowl of ice on the counter and the chocolate and shrugged.

“Not a clue.”

“Chocolate mousse.”

Steve blanched.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? I’d hate to ruin my nice new kitchen.”

“You’re not going to ruin anything. This recipe only has two ingredients and requires no appliances.”

“Alright. I’m trusting you.”

“Good choice. So what you need is chocolate, and you want really high quality chocolate because that’s the only ingredient you’re going to taste. Because the other ingredient is water?”

“Really?” He quirked an eyebrow. “That’s it?”

“Yep. So what we’re going to do is chop up our chocolate – which Martin was kind enough to provide for us - into nice quarter sized chunks and add it to hot water and whisk until it’s melted. Once it is, we move it into the ice and whisk until it sets.”

After showing him how to whisk properly, Antoni had him take over.

“One of the other reasons I like this recipe is because if you over whip it, all you do is warm it up again and whisk again. Whereas with a cream based recipe, there’s no coming back. Alright, that looks just about perfect.”

Antoni spooned some mousse into ramekins and handed one to Steve.

“Bon appetite.”

Steve groaned when he tasted it.

“Oh my god.”

“It’s good right?”

“So good.”

“And it’s super easy to make.”

“This is dangerous,” he chuckled after another large bite. “Y/n’s gonna have me making this every other day.”

Antoni simply grinned in response.

“Come sit with us,” Karamo called from where he was sitting.

“Yes, come snuggle yourself right in here.”

Steve settled in the center of the sectional between Karamo and Jonathan.

“So, when we started the week, you told me that you wanted to find a future. Do you feel like you’ve done that?”

He was already nodding.

“Yeah, I do. Since I came out of the ice, I’ve been stuck between two worlds. I was either living in the past or trying to just throw myself into the future. I never felt like I could move on because I was mourning that part of my life. But now, you’ve helped me see that I have a lot to live for now. Not just the fight. And you’ve also given me connections to the past I thought were long gone, so now I feel like I can still love it and remember it without living it. I’m really excited to discover more about what I love.”

“I’m so excited for you to get to know you, because we have all fallen in love with you.”

“You are such a kind, genuine, good man, and you are beautiful inside and out,” Jonathan reached out holding his hand.

“I hope you see the man the rest of us see.”

“I’m starting to. And I just want to say thank you. At the beginning of the week I never expected to be able to be so open with strangers and really explore who I am. Thank you for coming here to help me.”

“You are so welcome. Now unfortunately, it is time for us to go.”

“I’m going to miss you all,” Steve admitted.

“We’ll miss you too. Enjoy everything. You deserve it.”

“Come on. Group hug.”

They crowded in around him before giving him each individual hugs and leaving Steve in his new home to get ready for his dinner party. He smiled to himself as he looked around.

“Home,” he whispered.

~~~~~~~

A/N: Reference pic for Steve’s casual look here (top left) I hope that you enjoyed this part. I really loved writing it, and I won’t lie I cried a couple times. Thanks so much for reading!

Tag lists are open. Strikethroughs didn’t work.

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#Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers Fic #Queer Eye for the Cap Guy #Cap Gets Queer Eyed #Part 7

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kilyra · 5 years

Text

Some Tawdry Notch

Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer) One-Shot

A/N: I received a request from @suitsofwo3 for a follow up to “A Deal is a Deal” with the following prompts from “100 Dialogue Prompts to Break a Reader’s Heart”: 52. “Oh, I was just another notch in your bedpost?”, 47. “You’re angry with me, I know.” and 64. “I’ve never seen that side of you.” (I had to modify 52 a bit to make it fit better, fyi).

Lucifer had convinced you to join him at a charity event where he was trying to track down the source of the new Morningstar drug flooding the streets and ruining his reputation. Only things went sideways for you there and left you questioning your relationship.

Warnings: Language - eff bomb. No spoilers though. If you want to be on my tag lists, (all or just a character) just let me know!

Your utter exhaustion forced you into a few hours sleep, but you kept jerking awake with the image of a gun pointed at your face. Of course, even as you laid there, staring at the ceiling, you still saw it. It was too much. As dawn finally broke, you knew had to grab your stuff and move on from the man who put you in that position in the first place. Move on from Lucifer.

The plan was to get in, pack your shit, and get the hell back out.

You waited for a time where Lucifer wouldn't be home. It was late enough that even if, for some reason, he was hung over and moving slowly, he'd still already be at work. And it was early enough that even if a juicy case didn't cross Decker's desk, they'd still be at the precinct. Although considering the dramatic scene that unfolded at the charity event the night before, you expected they'd be busy.

But all that careful planning was for naught. As the elevator doors open, you saw Lucifer going through the desk he told you was all yours. Disappointment and rage battled for the right to lead as he looked up at you.

Letting the open folder slip from his fingers, he let out a long sigh as he smiled. “There you are! I was hoping to find a clue for where you might be in your desk, but all I found was boring work stuff.”

“No kidding,” you said in a flat tone. Crossing towards the bedroom you decided to pack your clothes first.

Taken by surprise with your curtness, his smile dropped. “Yes, well, no matter, because here you are. You had me worried when you disappeared on me last night.”

Scoffing, you went straight for the closet and pulled out your small suitcase. “I thought you weren't supposed to lie.”

Trailing after you, his voice got higher as insult crept in. “I don't and I'm not.”

Standing at the doorway, he watched as you roughly folded your clothes and shoved them in the case. Running his hand down the front of his dark vest, his perfectly sculpted eyebrows drew together in confusion. “Darling...what are you doing?”

“I'm packing.”

“Well, I can see that. But why? What's going on?”

Cramming the shirt you were holding into the case, you finally stopped to openly glare at him. Anger won the battle of emotions as he stared at you, dumbfounded. The absolute nerve of that man was unfathomable. “I'm just another notch on your bedpost, what the hell do you even care?”

His head darted back as though you slapped him. “I beg your pardon. You absolutely are not, whatever gave you that impression?”

As he waited for your answer, his dark eyes were glued to yours. Shaking your head, you looked back down at the case as you zipped it up.

He couldn't let your icy silence hang in the air for long before trying again. “Okay, you're angry with me, I know that much. But I'm at a loss for why.”

Lucifer turned to the side, giving you plenty of space as you stormed out of the room, pushing past him. Not slowing until you reached the desk, you shoved your files to one edge to clear a spot for your suitcase. This time, it was files of paper you slapped on top of the clothes.

“If I'm not just a notch, then I don't know how else to explain last night.”

“Last night? You mean when gathering information was so successful, the detective ended up making a key arrest on the spot?”

You let out a low growl. Of course that's how he'd see it.

“No. I mean when you asked me to come with you to make you look less suspicious, to be a decoy at the most...and you used me as fucking bait instead.” Your voice cracked, betraying just how furious you were.

Confusion drifted across his pointed features as he tilted his head. “Bait? It was never my intention to use you as bait.”

Stopping with a loud smack, you kept your hand on the paper pile as you glared at him. His lost expression made it all worse. "Right. So then why was it floating around the event that I wanted to meet with the councilman?

“I haven't the faintest idea. When I put the word out that someone wanted to meet with the councilman, I meant myself.”

Clenching your hand, you crumpled papers under your fingers as you fought to keep your anger at bay. He deserved it; he deserved all your anger, but you just wanted to finish packing and get out. You were so exhausted it was hard to think straight. Gritting your teeth, you struggled to keep your voice even.

“Then why did I have a gun pulled on me?”

“Because having money doesn't equate to intelligence, I'm afraid. And that includes the councilman. I mean honestly, pulling out a gun in the middle of an event like that? What did he think would happen?” Lucifer let out a soft chuckle as he tried to lighten the mood.

It didn't work.

Massaging your temples, you tried to combat the headache that started from the sudden head rush of your racing pulse. Colours floated over your vision from how hard your heart was pounding. You needed sleep. And for this to be over.

Narrowing his eyes, he cocked his head and took a few slow steps towards you. “Wait...is that what this is about? Because I promise you, with me and the detective there, you weren't in any real dang-”

“He had a gun pointed at my head!”

All the rage exploded through your chest, and your fingers trembled violently as you tried to grab more files. Looking down, you sniffed loudly, trying to pull back the angry tears that threatened to fall.

You wanted to add more, but you knew it would be your utter undoing.

Oppressive silence filled the room, bearing down on you. The only noise was the rustling of the papers you continued to gather. Soon, it was joined by the heel of Lucifer's shoes clicking on the floor as he wordlessly crossed to the room.

“Oh, Y/n,” he breathed as he reached you.

Just as you heard him take a sharp inhale, you pushed yourself to finish. “I'm done, Lucifer. You don't do that to people you care about, so either I'm just another lay or you care more about your reputation. Either way, I'm done.”

Stepping around the side of the desk, Lucifer's fingers grazed your arm. “Y/n, now just hold on a-”

“Don't touch me!” The words burst out as you slapped his hand away.

His mouth dropped open, and he kept his hand up, facing the palm to you in a submissive gesture. Hurt flashed behind his stunned expression as his widened eyes scanned your face.

“All night, all that existed was the end of a gun barrel and that fear...that certainty...that I was about to die. All night. And all you cared about was grilling that asshole for more information on Morningstar. You didn't even notice I was gone.”

Everything came out shrill as you fought against your tightening throat. Even as it all spilled out, you knew it wasn't exactly true – your phone was filled with ignored calls and texts from Lucifer starting almost immediately after you took off.

But as he lowered his hands, he didn't even point that out. Instead, he squeezed his eyes closed and bowed his head. Letting out a long sigh, his voice was soft. “Love. I'm so sorry. I truly am.”

If his tone hadn't knocked the wind from your sails, the sorrow in his eyes when he looked back up at you would have. He broke eye contact almost immediately, dropping his gaze to the floor by your feet in an unfocused stare.

“I swear to you, I was not using you as bait. In fact, I only realized what happened after the councilman pulled his stunt. And you're right, I was so focused on the case it didn't even occur to me that you might be upset.”

As he continued to readily agree with you, it gave you nothing to continue fighting against. Tightly folding your arms, you stayed quiet.

“And I'm especially sorry for that. I see the detective in dangerous positions so often it starts to feel like a normal part of life. I forget she's an officer of the law and trained for those situations. It's her job and her choice to be in harm's way."

From the corner of your eye, you saw his hand hover above your crossed arms as he hesitated to touch you. You could feel his eyes on you as he silently implored you to look at him. You refused.

“But you...you're a sweet, beautiful, thoughtful, caring woman who was only in harm's way because you were doing your idiot boyfriend a favour. You have every right to be angry with me. I'm upset with me too."

Eventually, he breezed his fingers over your arm with a light touch, quietly testing the boundaries. This time you didn't pull away.

It wasn't much, but it was enough to give him hope. “Please, you must know that you're not some tawdry notch on a bedpost. You mean more to me than anything in this world, and I would do anything for the chance to make this up to you.”

Reluctantly, you let your arms relax. His hand traced down your skin until he wrapped his fingers around yours. When you looked up at him, his soulful eyes had a hint of panic to them you had never seen before. Even his small, hesitant smile couldn't mask it.

The look struck at you, forcing a moment of hesitation past your anger. “I...I don't know. I don't know that there is a way to make up for this sort of thing.”

“I just want the chance to try, please. I don't want to lose you,” he said as he grabbed your free hand, anxiously twisting his fingers through yours.

You had been through a lot together; it was just so much to throw away. And you weren't sure you wanted to...

“It would...it would take a lot, Lucifer. I just...”

His grin grew more assured as he nodded. “Anything, you name it. Your wish will literally be my command. Plus, I've never seen that side of you and I will do absolutely anything it takes to avoid that again.”

Shaking your head, you leaned forward. Immediately taking the hint, Lucifer wrapped his arms around you and pulled you tight against him. As the scent of his expensive cologne settled around you, a deep sigh rumbled through his chest. His relief was palpable.

And despite yourself, a smile...a small smile...tugged at the corner of your lips.

Taglist: @foreverfaeries @flower-two @getlostinyourparadise @selfishkiddo @angelicshinigami @johnwickthirstclub @pegxcarter @liamakorn

#lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #netflix lucifer

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marvelsuperfangirl · 5 years

Text

Just A Girl ( Part 2 )

A/N : Here it is! After a few months, the second part is finally ready for you to read, FYI, the reader has a long monologue, sorry about that. I hope you’ll like this second part as much as the first one :)

Summary: Keeping a secret is hard, but it is even harder when it concerns your real nature. And even worst when you have an enemy that is so close to you that you can’t seem to get rid of. Will Y/N manage to keep her Kree origins for herself or will she have to face some obstacles along the way?

Part 1

There wasn’t any stain of blue left on you when your story reached its last line.

Bruce, was sitting down with a dumbfound expression overtaking his features and you didn’t know how to acta round him, now that he knew your secret.

You pursed your lips into a tight line and slightly balanced yourself back and forth in your seat, waiting for his reaction.

« What are you again ? »

His voice was calm, at least at first listening but a hint of confusion or even fear tainted his words. As his eyes met yours, you sent a smile his way, trying your best to reassure him. Also to prove him that you were still the Y/N he knew and not a monstruous alien.

« A Kree »

Furiously nodding his head, he looked around the room before setting his attention on you again. You noticed how he was fidgeting with his fingers and he was trying not to look at you in the eye.

« But why would Fury hire a alien to join the team ? »

With a chuckle, you get up from your chair and went to stand next to the bay window of the lab, which gave you a view of the empty grass field they used as a landing spot. It was a pretty dramatic behaviour, but just by looking at the landscape ; the dense forrest, protecting the compound from prying eyes, the lake,a little but further and that wild path leading to the outside world.

The memories of your arrival on earth as well as your first times with the team started to fill your mind.

« On Hala, my home planet, I was part of a team, similar to the Avengers. It’s called Star-Force. Our mission was to protect the Kree civilisation from any potential enemies. Years ago, were still under the reign of supreme intelligence engaged a war against another specie of aliens. She told us the Skrulls were conquering our empire and killing our people. But we came to realized that we’ve been set up to annihilate them to boost our own extension.

We actually were the invaders of the story. My civilisation always have been ruled by dictators but nobody complained until now we were doing as we were said and to be honest, my only goal was to be a part of the Star-Force, nothing else mattered.

But everything felt off after all of this was revealed to the population. I felt disgusted to have fought for a purpose like this one. And I was lost, everything I believed in was false… »

With a sigh, you turned around and locked eyes with Bruce.

« I managed to leave Hala. Our saviour, Carol, who was also part of the Star-Force, told me she knew someone on C-53 or eath, as you call it. With just my ship, I set off to find someone called « Fury ». My researches drove me straight to S.H.I.E.L.D and after explaining everything to him and how I was sent by Carol, he decided that it would be a good idea to have an agent from another planet and with knowledge about the things beyond earth. »

Silence took over the room and Bruce had that shocked expression back on.

« That’s a lot to take in »

« I know, I’m sorry »

He put his face in his hands, the poor man had just been strike by a revelation you can only imagine to receive in fiction, it wasn’t surprising that he had trouble to deal with it.

« How the hell did you manage to hide your true nature all this time ? »

The question was accurate but you still giggled nonetheless.

« We’re not so different. I mean, we both look humans, only my eyes are a giveaway. And on the other levels, I am just stronger, faster and maybe a bit more evolved regarding technology since we are far more advanced than humans. I’m not pretending to be smarter than you, of course, you’re the only one with a super brain and able to turn into a green giant. »

The last comment earned you a laugh along with a shy smile.

It would obviously take some time for him to get accustomed with all of this, but deep down, you knew it would be alright. You were relieved that Bruce was the one who discovered your secret instead of someone else.

Happiness was more fitting, since now you had an ally on the field and you couldn’t wait to have a conversation with him about Kree technology ; you surely could teach each other some stuff.

The bubble of hapinness was quick to be bursted, the doorknob was actionned from the other side. Someone was trying to come in but fortunately, Bruce had locked the door before even starting to help you clean up. It would have been extremely complicated to explain what was going on there.

The two of you looked at each other, panic rising between you.

« Banner, are you in there ? »

Bucky

« Tony told me you were surely in there. I’m looking for Y/N, have you seen her ? »

Not knowing what to do, you made some gestures at your friend, which got answered by more gestures, and finally, he got up and walked to the door.

But before he could open it, you had some last silent things to say, which were in the form a a finger on your mouth followed by praying hand. Roughly translated : « Please, don’t say anything ».

And with a promising nod along with a smile, Bruce unlocked the door.

On the other side, the former soldier had a worried expression plastered « accross» his face, his hair seemed more disheveled than usual, if that was possible.

His eyes fell on you and before anything could be said, he entered the lab hastily.

« Y/N ! We’ve been looking for you for more than an hour. Are you okay ? I swear if that asshole ever gets close to you again I’m gonna kill him ! »

You stopped him before he could add anything else, by putting a hand on his arm.

« Bucky, it’s fine. I’m alright, itw as just a little blood. Bruce helped me clean up and I needed some calm and to talk to someone after what happened »

That seemed to soften him, then confusion erased all trace of his previous relief.

« You know, you could have talked to me right ? It doesn’t matter what and when, if you need me, I’m here. We’re friends after all. »

You felt guilty after hearing those words. Bucky was so nice and you so wanted to tell him the truth but the less people who knew, the less were in danger.

« Thanks but I’m feeling better now, I think I’ll just go back to my room. »

With a nod, he took a few steps back, ready to leave but he stopped in his track. A suspicious glance was thrown your way, then to Bruce’s. You swallowed thickly, fearing that he’d know something was up. But as if nothing happened, he shook his head and turned back to you.

« Do you mind if I walk you there ? »

After giving Bruce a brief glance, you focused back on him and offered him a bright smile.

« Absolutely not » you smiled and walked to the door.

« Oh, thank you Bruce for helping me » you said, with a wink before leaving the lab, Bucky following suit.

The two of you walked in silence, you didn’t really know what to do and how to explain how you had flee from the fight. It wasn’t a superhero-y behaviour, that’s for sure. And certainly not one that can be tolerated for a Kree, if you’d done that on your home planet, you would have been punished.

« I’m sorry for earlier. I just felt like a complete fool and running away was my best option » .

« Don’t apologize. You’re certainly not the one that should do that ! Pietro is an asshole and if I had the slightlest idea that he would lash out on you, I would have changed your partner »

He was so cute ! That’s crazy how different he was from the speedster and they were from the same specie.

« Don’t worry, everything is fine now. I’ll just make sure to avoid him even more now and never be paired up with him for training «

You smiled up at him.

« How can I not be worried ? You might have proved to me, the guys and Pietro that you were able to fight on your own but I’m still protective over you. You are not a supersoldier or have a special ability. »

Only if he knew.

« I’ll protect you from him »

Heat rose to your cheeks and you certainly didn’t know how to answer that. That whole mushy behaviour was new to you, your life as a member of the Starforce didn’t leave any room for feelings or even worse : love.

Fighting, defending, killing and maybe a bit of of ingineering were your main purposes. And since your lived in the academy with the rest of the team and the wannabes, that behaviour has never been abnormal to you. When you two finally reached your bedroom, you opened the door before turning to your friend.

« Thank you, see you later »

« Yeah, and promise me, if there’s something, anything, don’t hesitate to talk to me »

One last smile and you were in your room, back against the closed door, protecting yourself from any hateful or nice humans, all while keeping your secret safe.

What you didn’t know was that on the other side, someone was longing to get in. And secret or not, we’ll see about that shortly.

Tag List: @nerdy-jelly-art

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bitsandbobsandstuff · 7 years

Text

Safe with me (8)

Summary: When an unknown threat enters your life, protection is offered at the highest level. As Bucky Barnes comes into your life, the game changes, and you realise falling for the man tasked with keeping you safe is the last thing you expected.

Characters: Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: Bad language. Descriptions of stalking, violence.

A/N: I watched ‘The Vampire Diaries’ religiously, through good times and bad, and it always seemed to abide by one specific rule: plan a dance, everything goes to shit. This chapter follows that pattern. Also, we finally get the song that inspired this entire story. You can hear it HERE.

FYI. I’ll keep trying to post every weekend, but may skip next week – I want proper time to make sure these chapters are perfect rather than just finished, and life is busy. Hopefully I’ll surprise myself.

Tags for this story are CLOSED Link here for posting schedule

SAFE WITH ME MASTERLIST PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Previously...

The cut-out letters appear to glow bright red, before Bucky understands the red is nothing more than the raging fire burning behind his eyes.

SHE LOOKS SO PRETTY IN BLUE, SERGEANT. I’M HAPPY SHE PICKED THIS ONE, I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE HER IN IT.

YOU REALLY SHOULD PAY MORE ATTENTION.

Bucky picks up the two photographs, his hands now shaking so hard the images seem blurry.

You, in a blue dress, looking down at your hands.

You, in a blue dress, laughing.

No. He can’t breathe.

Plaster rains down on the floor when he spins around with a snarl, and slams a metal fist through the wall.

*****

Standing at your open closet, you eye the blue dress with a small smile. Fingering the delicate lace, tracing the soft ruffles of the skirt, loving the way the silky fabric slides through your fingers. Peeling it off the hanger, you step carefully into it, maneuvering your arms into the intricate lace sleeves, easily connecting the tiny hook and eye clasp at the waist, below the deep open back.

Adding a pair of pearl drop earrings, you stand in front of the full-length mirror attached to your closet door, examining the effect. The rhythmic beat of your heart skips a beat at the thought of the night to come, of lavish decorations and dancing, of champagne and caviar, of smoky laughter and bright blue eyes.

Padding barefoot into the kitchen, you drop your heels on the sofa, and pull a half-empty bottle of wine from the refrigerator, tipping a healthy pour into a crystal glass. Wandering to the window, you contemplate the fading light, waiting patiently for Bucky to arrive.

*****

Bucky stands in front of his bedroom mirror, normally deft fingers fumbling at his neck, before he rips apart the bowtie with a vicious swear. Clenching the slippery fabric in his fist, he closes his eyes and goes still, inhaling slow breaths through his nose, fighting for composure. When he looks again, the anxiety has bled away, leaving his features smooth and clear. With steady hands, he drapes the cloth around his neck, and whips through the motions one more time, a perfect bow appearing in a flash.

Moving into autopilot, he drops to the edge of his bed, picks up two skin-tight, neoprene knife sheaths and straps one to each ankle. Sliding a blade into each, he tugs to make sure they're secure, before standing to let the trousers fall. Buckling his black leather belt, he attaches two gun holsters to the side, positioning one on each hip. Picking up the Glock from his dresser, he checks the chamber, slides it into the holster, selects a second gun and does the same.

Lifting the tuxedo jacket from his bed, he shrugs into it, and stands in front of his mirror. His mind drifts, and Bucky focuses on wiping it clean, allowing only his one single task for the night - keeping you safe - to dominate his thoughts.

*****

The man stands at his window, watching the shadows lengthen, creeping and crawling into the city. Lifting a glass to his lips, he hears the gentle clink of ice and takes a savoring breath, appreciating the sharp, piney scent of vodka.

He's dressed formally, a crisp white button-up tucked into the silk band of perfectly tailored trousers. The black bow-tie hangs loose around his neck, one hand tucked casually into his pocket, while he gazes into the coming darkness. When the sun is finally gone, he notices his reflection staring back from the window, sees an unopened blue pill bottle sitting on the kitchen counter behind him.

He smiles and takes another sip.

*****

NEW YORK POST Sightings | Page Six

"Accompanied by his date, New York's favorite broody brunette, Sergeant Bucky Barnes, attends Tony Stark's 'Stern verdict celebration party'

*****

"I genuinely, sincerely, with all my heart and soul hate paparazzi," Bucky mutters under his breath, as flashbulbs click and snap around you. He spares them one look of pure and total loathing, before facing forward and ignoring everything, his hand tight on your elbow as he steers you past the shouting voices.

There are certainly perks to attending this event on the arm of an Avenger, and walking straight through security and into their private elevator bank is one of them. Bucky seems unusually sombre tonight, his posture tense and his eyes locked on his shoes, as the elevator doors close and you begin to rise.

"Everything okay?" Reaching over, you give his sleeve a tug to get his attention and he looks up at the request, giving you a brief smile.

"All good. Long week I guess," the smile fades a little, turns tight.

"We don't have to stay long," you promise. "Couple drinks, a few hellos, and whenever you want to leave, just say. Okay?"

The tightness around his mouth loosens, a genuine smile blossoming across his lips, and he nods, looking back to his feet. He lets a beat go by, before he clears his throat quietly, and looks up at you.

"You look – really nice tonight. I, uh, I didn't mention it earlier."

His words are spoken with such simple sincerity, it sends pleasant surprise flushing warm across your skin.

"Um, thank you. You look pretty dashing yourself, not everyone can pull off a black on black tuxedo, it's a good look. Keeps that dark and angry image of yours well intact."

Bucky finally laughs for the first time that day, when you give him a cheeky wink, the ball of anxiety in his chest melting just a little.

"Well, I do have a reputation to maintain."

*****

The first time you met Tony Stark, you knew immediately he was the type who would never half-ass any task he put his mind to. He later confirmed he was a "full ass or no ass" kind of guy, which you could probably take to mean a variety of things, but ultimately you got the drift.

It's crystal clear that when Tony Stark throws a party, he goes "full ass."

Exiting the elevator, the brilliant lights and brassy bang of trumpets immediately smash into you. The party's in full-swing, a 12-piece band stationed in front of the massive floor-to-ceiling windows on one side, a dazzling backlit bar taking up the entirety of the wall opposite. Chandeliers line the ceiling, throwing streams of fragmented light flickering through the room. TV screens line the walls, playing a loop of breaking news headlines announcing the verdict, interspersed with snippets of Tony's session with the SAS committee, his laughing face blowing kisses at Stern before strolling away.

Even the servers are dressed for the occasion, wearing black and white striped tuxedos, while the bartenders are dressed in form fitting orange jumpsuits.

Yes, full ass indeed.

The sea of faces blends together, but Bucky searches out the familiar blond head, finally finding him near the bar. Nudging you, he points toward Steve and steers you forward, the crowd parting quickly before his hard expression.

"Hello!" Steve booms out, giving you a gigantic hug, nearly lifting you off your feet. You're surprised by the boisterous reception, he always plays the serious Captain in all your interactions, but then you catch a whiff of the thick amber liquid sloshing in his glass, and nearly gag.

"Steve Rogers, you fucking lightweight. I thought you couldn't get drunk?"

Steve graces you with a dopey smile, while Bucky peers into his glass, before giving a heavy sigh. "Asgardian? You remember what happened last time Steve, don't be that guy. Nobody likes that guy."

"I'm fine," Steve insists. "Just a little lubrication before I hit the dance floor."

He laughs loudly, slapping his knee and you can't stop the laughter that follows. The sight of Captain America roaring at his own dirty innuendo may be the best thing you've seen all week.

Bucky fights back a grin as he turns to the bar, waving the bartender over to request champagne for you, water for him. When he returns, he finds Steve's transformed back to his crotchety old-man phase, and Bucky rolls his eyes, silently handing you a champagne flute.

"I just don't know why the music has to be so damn loud," Steve’s complaining, gesturing toward the dance floor.

"Steve, calm your tits, it's fine," his poker face perfectly intact, Bucky raises his glass to cheers you, taking a long drink. Smacking his lips, he looks so intensely smug with himself for using your line, you choke on the champagne, snorting bubbles up your nose.

"What does that even – alright, whatever. You guys are hilarious," Steve shrugs.

Bucky's still grinning when the scent hits.

It floods his nostrils, a sweetly acidic tang, immediately sucking the smile from his face. His heart gives an enormous leap in his chest, before resuming in double-time, the rest of his body going bracing for attack.

Steve feels the imperceptible shift in mannerisms, and turns his head slightly, the silly smile fading when he sees Bucky, notices the tense set of his jaw, and he's instantly at attention. Wordless communication is their speciality, so when Bucky gives a tiny jerk of his head toward the bar, it dawns on Steve and he turns nonchalantly, causally searching the bodies behind the counter.

The smell ebbs and flows, puffs of lemon bursting in the air, and Bucky zeroes in on a tall man at the far end of the bar, his light brown hair falling into his eyes. He prods Steve's foot, motioning with his eyes. When Steve turns, both men notice it at the same time.

Pouring liquid from a metal shaker into a crystal tumbler, the man reaches below, glancing up to the crowd in front of him, hands scrabbling under the counter...

...before he returns with two thick slices of lemon, garnishing the drink with a flourish and delivering it to a woman in a dazzling red gown. She gives him a sultry wink and saunters away, a seductive sway in her hips.

Bucky lets out a silent, shaky breath.

Still sipping your glass of champagne as you stare into the crowd of people, their interaction goes completely unnoticed.

*****

"It's my boss," you stage whisper later that evening. "Everybody run, he never shuts up."

Jack shakes his head good-naturedly at the ribbing, but there's a tense edge to his expression.

"Everything okay?" you ask curiously, setting the joking aside.

"All good," he affirms, giving your arm a quick squeeze. "Barnes, could I get a word?"

There's a loaded silence following the request, and Steve scrambles to fill it, turning to you with a hang-dog face and asking for a dance. You hesitate, looking to Bucky to make sure he's okay, and he gives you a brief smile.

"Better get him now, before the liquor sets in. I've seen his moves, they're even worse when he's sober."

Steve huffs in mock outrage, promptly outlining a defense for himself, while he guides you toward the dance floor.

Jack's expression remains pleasant as you walk away, but the moment you're out of earshot, the smile turns cold and he glares at Bucky.

"What the fucking hell happened yesterday," he hammers roughly, all trace of friendliness gone. "I brought you in to fucking find this guy, and you let him get so god damn close he took photos of her? Are you even trying to find him? Or are you too busy flirting with her to figure it out?"

He should have expected this, Bucky thinks to himself. Half of him wants to knock Jack flat on his ass for even questioning Bucky's commitment to you, but the other half figures he deserves the verbal flogging, and much, much more.

There's literally no one more pissed at Bucky Barnes, than Bucky Barnes.

"Yeah, I fucked up, I'm well aware. But you saw the report, now I know what I'm looking for, it sure as god damn hell won't happen again. He comes near her, I'll get him."

Jack scowls fiercely, biting his tongue to stem the flow of angry words he clearly wants to throw in Bucky's direction, before finally settling for a sharp response.

"You fucking better, Barnes. I see the way you look at her, I shouldn't have to remind you to keep your emotions out of this, I thought you were better than that. I want daily updates, I want to know where you're at and what you're doing at all fucking times. And it better be what I hired you to do. And nothing more."

*****

Steve isn't much of a dancer. His best move consists of swaying back and forth, more than a little off-beat. It's disconcerting in its awkwardness, given how graceful he moves during combat.

"How have things been going? With you and Bucky, I mean?" He asks the question lightly, nothing more than mild interest.

"Well, I'm sure he's given you his interpretation of everything," you answer with a grin. "But if you're wanting me to tell tales, you're barking up the wrong tree. He'll take away my taco truck privileges if I say anything bad."

Steve chuckles, moving you in a slow circle. "Nah, I'm just digging for a little gossip, that's all. Buck responds to every damn question with a grunt or an eye roll, he doesn't give me much."

"Well you saw us in the beginning, I was well on my way to murdering him in the first five minutes," you muse, thinking back to the conversation in Tony's lab, when Bucky laid down his three golden rules and you laughed in his face. It seems ages ago now. "But we figured out how to make it work."

Steve hums. "So, now you've cracked that famous asshole exterior, what do you think? Of him, I mean?"

"Are you fishing for something Steve?" you ask, puzzled at the direction of his questions and wondering if he's trying to trick you into saying something. His look of 'surprise' solidifies your assertion that Steve Rogers has no future in the world of espionage, because it may be the most obviously fake thing you've ever encountered.

"No, no, not at all. Just making conversation."

"Right," you say slowly, narrowing your eyes. "Well, if you're looking for an honest assessment here, how about this – I think he's a cocky, stubborn, overprotective control freak, with an insane streak of paranoia and terrible taste in ice cream. He drives his motorcycle like a fucking idiot, gets weirdly insane pleasure from me making fun of him, and he sucks ass at sharing pizza."

"Those things are all extremely true," Steve confirms.

Dropping your gaze, you focus on the crooked tilt of Steve's bowtie, hesitating before continuing. He doesn't speak, waiting patiently to hear what else you have to profess.

It goes in a new direction.

"He's also infinitely calm and always reassuring, no matter the situation. He lets me be a sarcastic jerk whenever I want and never gets mad, just dishes it right back. He makes weird faces when he's concentrating on those damn crossword puzzles and he always indulges my terrible coffee habits." The words spill quickly, fast and thick now, with only a small stumble. "He's kind and he's brave, and he's – he makes me feel safe."

Steve is silent at the admission, still bobbing gently to the music, and his silence makes your nerves itch. Defiantly raising your eyes, you expect to see him sneering at the sentimental declaration, but he merely smiles, revealing a softness in those sky-blue eyes. He opens his mouth to reply, but you interrupt.

"And if you tell him I said any of that Steve, and I mean one single word, please rest assured that I will find you and I will dick punch you again. So hard."

Pressing his lips together, he smothers a grin and simply pulls you closer, searching desperately for some semblance of rhythm, clipping your toes with every other step.

*****

Arms crossed, Bucky stares daggers at the door to the women's restroom, waiting for you to reappear. Still seething from the argument with Jack, he replays the words, grinding his teeth irritably.

Keep your god damn emotions out of this.

What the fucking hell was that supposed to mean? Bucky always keeps emotions at bay, he's perfectly professional, never once had a problem. He doesn't understand where this is coming from, first Steve, now Jack, and it's seriously pissing him off.

The sound of quiet rustling reaches his ears as he stands and stews, and from the corner of his eye, he observes a man shuffling down the hall, his head bowed forward. Sandy brown hair swings forward, and he keeps twitching his head to shift it from his eyes. He's dressed formally, a full tuxedo complemented with white gloves, and he holds tightly to a black cloth bag.

Bucky takes in the hunched posture, the slightly awkward, uneasy mannerisms, cycling through a mental list of traits, before deeming him a non-threat, and returning his gaze to the bathroom door.

But then the smell hits him light a truck, overpoweringly sweet and strangely medicinal, clamping down on his brain and Bucky staggers. In the next instant he strides forward with a low growl, shoving the man roughly backward, before slamming him into the wall.

"What the fuck are you doing here? Who are you?" he hisses, taking in the wild eyes, filled with dawning recognition that is quickly replaced with terror. The metal arm whirrs supportively, shifting, clicking, re-calibrating, when Bucky digs his forearm into the man's neck, watching with relish as his face turns red, his throat struggling for oxygen. "Answer me right fucking now you piece of shit, or I swear to god –"

"Bucky what the fuck are you doing?"

Steve is suddenly at his elbow, wrapping an arm around his chest, pushing him hard, breaking his hold. Bucky snarls at the intrusion and rams forward again, before Steve steps in front of the man, catching Bucky before he lands a punch.

"Stop! Bucky, stop, stop! It's not him – you're not – fucking look!"

Fists wrapped in Bucky's jacket, Steve shakes him harshly, forcing him to pay attention. Bucky's entire body is lit with rage, until he looks down at the man's feet, to see a shiny yellow and white plastic bottle spilling from the black bag.

Clorox bathroom disinfectant. Lemon-scented.

Disappointment and relief crash through him, a potent combination of emotion in equal measure, and he's suddenly reeling backward.

"I'm sorry," he rasps. "Jesus Christ, fuck, I'm sorry."

The man is trembling so hard his teeth are chattering, and Steve speaks quietly to him, bending to pick up the bottle and hand it back, his voice friendly and non-threatening. The man focuses panicked eyes on Steve's face and nods shakily, accepting the apology Steve makes on Bucky's behalf. With one last terrified look, he rushes away.

There's a moment of silence, before Steve is rounding on him.

"What the fucking hell are you doing?"

Bucky rubs his hands down his face, shaking his head in disbelief. "Goddammit Steve, shit. I'm going – I'm going fucking insane here," he croaks. "I thought – I smelled it, and I fucking flipped. I thought it was him."

Steve's anger quickly fades when he sees the anxiety in Bucky's face, the clench of his fists, the tight pull of his mouth. "Yeah. Yeah, I kind of got that," he sighs heavily.

"Is everything okay?"

The worry in your simple question breaks through Bucky's panic, instantly easing his nerves. Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath, grounding himself in the moment. Straightening his shoulders, he pastes a pleasant expression on his face, before he turns to face you.

"Of course, everything's fine."

*****

It's late in the evening when Sam Wilson sweeps into a low bow and dramatically petitions you for a dance. Responding with equal flair, you give him a mocking curtsy, and accept the proffered arm with much batting of the eyelashes and a silly, breathy giggle.

Sam's an enthusiastic dancer, preferring to whirl you across the floor in wide, crazy circles, ignoring everyone else and occasionally attempting to throw your back out with his overly theatrical dips.

He's also quite the little chatterbox.

"You're looking excessively spectacular tonight darlin’, blue is definitely your color." He throws you away from him and catches your hand to reel you back in.

"And you're looking excessively dapper tonight Mr. Wilson. If James Bond were here, he'd fling himself from the roof in shame."

"You're amazing, I love praise, like man, it's so good for me, and I really deserve it, you know?" Sam replies happily. He stops speaking long enough to push you into a quick double spin, leaving you breathlessly dizzy. "So, we've established you look great and I look great, and we're pretty much owning this dance floor."

"Pretty much," you echo.

"And you know what, I'm willing to spread the love, so I'll throw it out there. You know who else looks okay? Barnes. He cleans up alright, all things considered."

"Bit out of your league, isn't he? You need me to put in a good word for you?"

He lets out a loud guffaw at the sass, and dips you so far back, your head touches the floor.

"I'll have you know, if I were batting for that team, I could totally pull Barnes if I wanted to," Sam announces. "Really, I'm the total package and that bastard'd be lucky to have me. But no, I can get my own dates, thanks. I'm just sourcing opinions, sizing up the competition, you know. Always good to hear what the ladies think."

Blowing an exasperated breath, you roll your eyes. "What the hell's with you and Steve tonight? Is there a point to all these questions?"

Sam just shrugs as he spins you away, holding tight to your fingers. "No point, just making conversation. I'm sure he'd like to know."

Twirling back into his arms, you lay your hand back to his shoulder and squeeze hard, trying to pinch him through the thick fabric of his jacket. "I realize we don't know each that well Sam, but I'll be perfectly honest with you right now. I'm not adverse to punching you in the dick either."

His laughter booms across the dance floor when he spins you again.

*****

Tony watches you bouncing with Sam, a strangely thoughtful look on his face. Taking a slug of whiskey, he debates whether to start this conversation, then decides fuck it.

"So, Toy Soldier, I'm actually surprised you brought her tonight. Assumed you'd have her under lock and key somewhere, banned from interacting with the rest of us mere mortals."

"She really wanted to come." Bucky doesn't even spare him a glance, his eyes fixed where you're clasping Sam's hand as he twirls you in circles. He gives a twitch of annoyance as he watches Sam wrap his arms around you.

"What'd she say when you told her about the drug?"

Bucky takes a long drink, his eyes never leaving you.

"I didn't tell her."

Tony stares at him, the words razor sharp when he responds. "So, what? She doesn't deserve to know what's going on?"

"Not that I need to explain myself to you, but I don't think she needs that hanging over her head, when she can't do a fucking thing about it. That's why I'm here."

"I think you're underestimating her."

"Is it any of your fucking business?" Bucky finally turns, leveling him with an icy glare.

"None at all Barnes, I'm just wondering why you brought her tonight when you couldn't give her the courtesy of sharing the full story."

"Well I sure as fuck can't find this guy if I keep her locked up somewhere."

"So, you decide to trot her out in front of a crowd, so you could what? Use her as fucking bait?" All trace of sarcasm is gone, and outrage flattens Tony's voice.

Bucky takes a step closer, defensive fury in every syllable when he speaks.

"Of course, I didn't want to bring her here tonight, I'd rather lock her away until I wipe this fucker off the face of the earth, but I can't find him, so what would you suggest I do?" He lifts his chin, and his voice drops low, turning breathtakingly cold. "Besides, this party was your idea and this is your place Tony, so if anything happens, I know who I'm coming for."

"You motherfucking candy ass son of a bitch –"

"Enough, both of you." Steve hisses, putting a stern hand on each, cutting them off before the conversation escalates further. Both men eye each other with loathing, Bucky only breaking the stare to look back at the dance floor when he hears Sam's laughter ringing through the room.

*****

There's a confident tap on your shoulder, and a smooth, honeyed voice speaks close to your ear.

"Excuse me, miss."

Swinging at the sound, you find yourself facing a dark-haired man, his green eyes alight with interest as he looks you up and down. He starts to speak, swaggering confidence oozing from every pore, until he catches sight of the man next to you.

Bucky turns from the bar, plucking the straw from his drink and slipping it between his lips. He cocks an eyebrow as he looks at the man, baring his teeth in a wide smile, clearly daring him to ask the question.

"Never mind," the guy says hastily, backing away.

Turning to Bucky, you set your glass on the bar with a sharp click.

"Alright. Are you done marking your territory? You've managed to scare the shit out of every guy who's even considered asking for a dance."

"You've been dancing all night!" He argues, removing the straw and tossing it behind him.

"Um no. I danced once with Steve, who is an adorably graceless buffalo, and once with Sam, who seemed to be auditioning for 'West Side Story'."

"That guy was a douche, you didn't want to dance with him anyway."

"Well Bucky, that's not exactly the point. I like to dance, and everyone here thinks you'll punch them in the face if they ask."

"That's just ridiculous. I always go for the throat, everyone knows that," he deadpans.

Sometimes he makes it impossible to be annoyed, so you sigh dramatically instead and lean against the bar. He falls quiet, scuffing the toe of his shoe against the floor as he surveys the crowd.

"Are you sure you're okay tonight? You seem more weirdly tense than usual. And we both know that's saying something."

He swallows hard, you can see his throat working, while he thinks. You can tell something's wrong, and the only thing you can do now is wait him out, he won't share unless he wants to. You know the moment he comes to a decision, when he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip and takes a deep breath.

"Since I scared everyone else away, do you want to dance with me?"

He freezes, looking completely stunned the moment the words leave his mouth. It was clearly not what he meant to say, but now the words are hanging in the air, so you snatch them before he can retract the offer.

"Well, yes. I'd love to dance with you."

He looks baffled at your response, but ever the gentleman, he recovers quickly. Crooking his elbow and offering his arm, you reach for him and he catches your hand, smoothly laying it over his forearm, and pulling you forward.

The lights are dimming as you walk toward the dance floor, and you see a young woman stepping up to the microphone, dark hair flowing in loose waves at her shoulders, her black evening gown glittering under the chandeliers. There's a pregnant pause as she closes her eyes, letting the delicate piano chords fill the room before her throaty voice begins, lyrics like dark smoke floating through the air.

The city sky's feeling dark tonight We're back to back with our heads down Just look at me, give me more tonight Just give me more of your love now

Bucky stops in the center of the floor and steps back slightly. Glancing to the metal fingers tapping nervously at his side, he blanches when he considers them. His voice is apologetic, barely above a whisper when he raises his hand cautiously.

"If it bothers you, I have a glove I can –"

Without another word, you reach for him, folding your hands together, unbreakable metal and fragile skin. Palm to palm, his eyes close briefly at the contact.

Sliding your hand up his arm, your fingers grasp his shoulder, and there's the silky feel of his dark hair brushing lightly against your knuckles. He curves his other hand slowly around you, wordlessly requesting permission, before letting his warm fingers splay across the bare skin of your back.

Let's set fire to the lonely night You're beautiful when you look at me Let's give love another life

All the appropriate actions have been taken, the standard requirements to engage in a slow dance. The final step is simple, gently swaying back and forth, leaving the space between you open, a friendly distance between two bodies. Internally warring with himself on what to do next, you see the confusion running rampant across his features, before he just – lets go.

His eyes darken, and he tugs you in close, closing the distance and locking his arm tight, molding your body to him, from knee to hip to chest. Leaning his head down, he presses his temple against yours, and you tuck your face into his neck, feeling the rough scratch of stubble against your cheek.

And you begin to dance.

There are no crazy, spinning circles. There are no awkward apologies as your toes are trampled.

There's only Bucky, his breath trailing down your neck, his cool fingers laced with yours, his unconscious hum of contentment in your ear. He moves smoothly, rocking you back and forth, never breaking the tight hold. Pressed flush against him, you know without a doubt, you've never in your life felt safer than you do in this moment. His presence is a morphine drip straight into your veins, soothing and intimate in the security it brings.

You feel your heartbeat thrumming in your chest, so hard you know he must be able to hear it, to feel it through the thin lace, but you can't find it in yourself to be embarrassed. He rubs the tip of his nose against your skin, and your breath shakes.

You remember the words he offered that first night, his promise of protection, a solemn vow you knew he would fight to the death to keep. "You call my name, and I'll run to you. I'll always come for you."

And there you hear it again, words echoing through the room, his promise set to music.

Cause you'll be safe in these arms of mine Just call my name on the edge of the night And I'll run to you, I'll run to you

Bucky thinks of you spitting mad that first day, indignant rage as you shoved him away, fighting desperately to keep your independence. He remembers you arguing with him, trying so hard to spare him the hostile environment of the trial and the way you flew to his defense, ready to tackle anyone who may hurt him. He remembers the feel of you burrowing into his back, arms locked around him as he drove through the city streets. The way you quietly tap your teeth when you're deep in thought.

He thinks of the determination blazing in your eyes when you picked up his gun.

Of the sharp nudge of your elbow, trying to convince him to smile.

Of the sight of you warm and soft, curled fast asleep in his chair.

And it rocks him to his core, understanding roaring in like a freight car knocking him sideways. It cracks the carefully constructed façade down to the foundation of his being, the startling revelation of what everyone around him seemed to see, everyone but him.

Let's let go, let it be the start You know I'm feeling the same thing Let's let go of our broken hearts

You remember Bucky sitting next to you in the courtroom, the slick slide of his sweaty hand gripping yours. The feel of his arm around you, encouraging you to breath, to fight through a panic attack. You think about the way he orients himself so carefully around you, so he can always see your face, even when his eyes are roving everywhere. You remember the raw emotion in his voice when he admitted he couldn't save those little kids, and the pure happiness in his eyes when you declared how much you loved his home.

You think of the lazy way he licks ice cream from his lips.

Of the look in his eyes when he saw you in the blue dress.

Of the heat of his skin, fingers burning like fire pressing into your back.

And there it is, the realization arriving with heart-stopping clarity. After so many years alone, so many years fighting to save yourself, the hard steel of the man in front of you fills the puzzle piece you never knew was missing.

Cause you'll be safe in these arms of mine Just call my name on the edge of the night And I'll run to you, I'll run to you

It was never one single action, but rather a multitude of subtle things layered together. The shift is seismic, all-consuming and overpowering, and suddenly the world tilts. When it resettles, there's no one else, every voice is silenced, the dance floor empty. The only thing that remains, is the iron grip of Bucky's arm around you, the thick muscles of his shoulder under your palm, the intense blue of his eyes, and the shock in them as he looks at you.

Even if it's gonna break me, love I run to you

The final note hangs in the air, time suspended as you stare at each other. The truth is, neither of you saw this coming. Perhaps in its own way, that's what made it all the more devastating.

When the lights go up, applause fills the room, and it's enough to break the spell. Bucky drops your hand quickly and steps away.

*****

From across the room, the man watches the interaction with interest, eyes blazing as he drinks it in.

*****

The evening air is cool when you leave, and you rub your arms automatically, letting the light friction heat your skin. Bucky catches the gesture, abashed that he's unable to meet the proper gentlemanly obligation of giving you his jacket, but the array of weaponry hidden under that jacket is not well suited for the public eye.

Instead, he lays a tentative hand at your back, and weaves a path through the clusters of people lingering out front, guiding you toward the waiting car. His sharp profile is serious as he scans the crowd, searching intently, committing everything he sees to memory. He feels you lean closer, and looks down to find you watching him, a hopeful smile beginning to curve your lips. He feels his mouth move in response, before he suddenly snaps his head up, meeting a pair of nervous hazel eyes.

And for the third time that evening, Bucky Barnes smells the bitter tang of lemons, right before the bomb explodes.

*****

Next Chapter

*****

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gothify1 · 5 years

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In other words, they can help make a sparse or dehydrated lash line healthier overall. If you've been wondering how to grow your eyelashes using the latest, greatest, best-selling formulas, you've come to the right place. Ahead, we're highlighting the top three eyelash serums from Amazon, Sephora, and Dermstore, including blurbs from their A+ reviews. Keep scrolling! Number of customer reviews: 503. Average rating: 4.5/5. Fortified with luxe botanicals and two pro-keratin peptides, this vegan eyelash serum is a top pick from Amazon's seriously overwhelming collection. Plus, you can also feel free to swipe it on your brows. "This stuff works great on my lashes," says Amazon customer Karen. "It took about six weeks to take effect, but my lashes are now long enough that they sometimes brush against my sunglasses." Number of customer reviews: 14,030. Average rating: 4.5/5. This fan-favorite lash serum is one of the most popular formulas living the dark depths of Amazon, and it's no wonder considering its impressive ingredient makeup. Think peptides, Panax ginseng extract, Swertia japonica extract, hyaluronic acid, and biotin to boot. "Before trying Lavish Lash, I had tried another (much more expensive) product with 'meh' results," explains one Amazon reviewer. "I researched other options on Amazon and settled on this one. Good reviews, reasonable priced, why not...I've been using it for two months now and OMG...its legit. I look like I wear fake eyelashes, and I LOVE it! I have used it religiously every night before I go to bed and I could probably go down to one time every other night...but I'm kind of enjoying having ridiculously long lashes." Number of customer reviews: 2124. Average rating: 3.5/5. You can find this best-selling eyelash serum at all the best beauty retailers, from Amazon to Sephora to Ulta, and it consistently receives super-impressive ratings. It's enriched with vitamins, peptides, and amino acids and is said to encourage a longer- and thicker-looking flutter in as little as four to six months. Here's what Amazon customer Kristin had to say: "This stuff is a miracle product. I rarely write reviews, but I really was compelled to because I LOVE this product. I started seeing results after two or three weeks, but now, after consistently using it daily for three months, I have eyelashes that look false or like extensions! I am beyond pleased. My eyelashes used to be short, sparse, and I was missing lashes on each corner of the eye. Not only did it make them thicker, but it also made them grow back in the corners. They are SO long my son told me today I may have to cut them at some point because they are almost touching my eyebrows. Lol" Um, adorable. Number of customer reviews: 187. Average rating: 4/5. FYI: This new eyelash serum from beloved skincare brand Peter Thomas Roth is already making waves within the industry. It's fortified with an 11% peptide complex with biotin in addition to a 10% conditioning complex and other ingredients like Tahitian plankton extract. Not to mention it's ophthalmologist-tested and free of icky things like sulfates SLS and SLES, parabens, formaldehyde, formaldehyde-releasing agents, phthalates, mineral oil, oxybenzone, coal tar, hydroquinone, triclosan, and triclocarban. "I've really enjoyed using this product over the last few weeks and have definitely seen a difference in the thickness of my lashes," explains one Sephora reviewer. "The serum is easy to apply, and it works overnight. If you’re looking for a way to enhance your natural lashes without having to spend tons of money on extensions, this is a great product!" Number of customer reviews: 281. Average rating: 4.5/5. Milk Makeup is one of the coolest makeup-and-skincare brands in the biz right now, and its epic cannabis-infused line called Kush is top-rated proof. The newest addition? This epic brow-and-lash serum, which has hemp-derived cannabis seed extract, yes, but also quinoa and peptides for an extra dose of nourishment. It's brand new, but here's what people are saying on Sephora's website thus far: "I've been using it for about a week! I have sensitive eyes and no stinging or tearing! So far, the results are softer brow hairs and lashes that definitely feel conditioned! Would recommend if you’re looking for a product like this!" Number of customer reviews: 368. Average rating: 4/5. Lashfood makes some of the most well-known lash-enhancing formulas, and this serum, in particular, is one of the best if you've been wondering how to effortlessly grow and improve the health of your lashes. The serum features the brand's Phyto-Medic Complex alongside its Eyelash Enhancing System, which delivers nutrients directly to your lashes. It's also Ecocert-certified, dermatologist-tested and -approved, and vegan. One happy Sephora customer said, "Love this product! This product is great. It definitely made my lashes stronger, longer, fuller, and healthier. I started seeing a bit of a change after about two to three months of use, but I really, truly noticed a very significant change after many more months. I've now been using it for about a year, and my eyelashes are clearly longer and fuller—just overall healthier!" Number of customer reviews: 557. Average rating: 5/5. Brimming with lash-healthy ingredients like copper peptides, biotin, hyaluronic acid, peptides, and panthenol, Raid Lash is specifically formulated to improve the length, thickness, and volume of lashes while simultaneously guarding against unwanted damage and breakage. Plus, it's extra hydrating to enhance shine and softness. "This product works and seems to be more than half the price of similar products!" explains one Dermstore customer. "I use it every night on my eyelashes and now get frequent compliments on the length of my lashes. I've been using the product for several months now, and it took about three to four weeks to notice any difference. One tube lasts me about five to six weeks." Number of customer reviews: 81. Average rating: 5/5. Unfortunately, many eyelash serums can be irritating, and it's really one of those categories of beauty products that might take some trial and error. That said, this clinically tested serum from NeuLash is great for those wanting to better their lash line and is known for being less irritating. One of the less-expected superstar ingredients? Pumpkin seed extract. In fact, one ecstatic reviewer on Dermstore touted the formula as a "miracle product": "I had an unfortunate mishap with my eyelash curler five years ago and accidentally removed all of my lashes from the inner part (near my nose) to about a quarter of the way out along the lash line. I thought I’d have a 'bald' area on my eye forever, but then I found this product. It not only grew back my lashes (thank GOD!) but it gave me the longest and most beautiful lashes I’ve ever had. Will always repurchase!" Number of customer reviews: 3730. Average rating: 5/5. We like to think the perfect five-star rating, 3000 and counting reviews, and under-$50 price tag do all the talking for you, but for those wondering how to grow your eyelashes, listen up. The formula is non-irritating and chock-full of lash-lengthening ingredients like biotin, peptides, and panthenol. Plus, it's also great to swipe on sparse brows as well. "I can't get over how well this product actually works!" dotes one Dermstore customer. "After several weeks of regular use, I noticed my eyelashes were really getting longer! I felt like I was in a mascara ad. It was amazing! Highly recommend!" Up next, 14 (Actually) Effective Products for Hair Growth, According to Amazon Reviews

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