#ghost doctor icon

[w0rldenough]

10th doctor // army of ghosts icons

like if you use

[asicons]

[deathxproof-archive]

hiiiii hello I have the day off and am gonna be working on some stuff for the blog among replies and starters and other stuff !! feel free to pop around and message me here or on discord !!(almondmilkofficial) hope everyone’s having a good dayy <33

[cr1msonpeak]

CR1MSONPEAK,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎A PRIVATE AND VERY SLOW MULTI MUSE,‎ WRITTEN BY FRANKIE !‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎[ SHE/HER/24 ].‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎PRIMARILY FOUND ON SHADOWEDVALES.

[cyberpainterweaselthing]

Ghost Doctor korean drama

[thatgeekwiththeclipons]

Remembering Academy Award Winning, 2x Tony Winning, BAFTA Nominated, Golden Globe Nominated actor Sir Rex Harrison! ^__^

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

Damian did not like DW, a girl half his age he met in the park. No he's not jealous of her size changing dog, shut up

Damian did not trust her when he learned the W stood for Whitney. No it's not because she and the dog are apparently also ninjas with how easily they both avoid him in the park, shut up

Damian did not stalk DW Nightingale to steal her dog, shut up

Damian was not ready to meet her father

Danny, happy: Damian, how are you?

Damian, shocked: You're supposed to be dead!

Danny "Commit to the Bit Fenton: I am dead. *Pretends to take off wig to reveal white hair* I'm just good at faking being alive

Damian: ...are you here because you adopted a child?

Danny: Oh no, she's mine. Also did you know ghosts can still breed?

Whitney is a pun on "with an i"

I love the dynamic between Damian and DW kinda reminds me of raccoons in an odd way for some reason ヘ(￣ω￣ヘ)

Also I might have just missed it but is this an AU where they are related/brothers?

Danny doing ghostly bullshit to do a wig pull is iconic.

( I kinda want to see that drawn kinda like Perry the Platypus

Damian: "DW's dad?"

Danny pulling his black hair off to reveal white hair underneath

Damian: "MY GHOST BROTHER!" )

ALSO!

Damian: "Ghost can breed, how does that work?"

Danny: " Yeah..so you know how a lot of parents tell young children that the way you make a baby is by kissing to not give them The Talk TM yet?

Totally legit with ghosts don't ask me why or how I was still in shock when my doctor was explaining it and missed more than half of what he was saying."

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Ooh! A wonderful interview with Rich Keeble who played Mr. Arnold (the one with the Doctor Who Annual :)) in S2! :)❤

Q: In Good Omens 2 you play Mr. Arnold, who runs the music shop on Whickber Street. Were you a fan of Good Omens before joining the cast, and is it challenging to take on such an iconic story which is already loved by a huge fanbase?

A: “There’s always pressure if you’re working on something with an existing fanbase and people might have an idea already as to how you should be approaching something. To be honest I was aware of the show but I hadn’t actually seen it before I was asked to get involved. I knew it was something special though! I remember talking to Tim Downie [Mr. Brown] about how when you tape for certain things you know if something’s a “good one”. Of course by the time I was on set I’d watched Season 1 and read the book. 

I had an interesting route into the show actually: I was asked at the last minute to read the stage directions at the tableread on Zoom, and Douglas [Mackinnon] the director called me up to discuss pronunciations of the character names etc. To prepare further I quickly watched the first episode on Prime Video, and I was very quickly drawn into it. A couple of hours later I was on a Zoom call with David [Tennant], Michael [Sheen] (with his bleached hair), Neil [Gaiman], Douglas and the whole team, including Suzanne [Smith] and Glenda [Mariani] in casting. After that readthrough I asked my agent to try and see if she could shoehorn me in and she came back with a tape for Mr. Arnold saying “you play the piano don’t you…?” They wanted me to demonstrate my musical playing ability, so I rented a rehearsal studio room in Brixton for an hour and filmed myself playing piano (and drums just in case), then I did my scenes a couple of different ways and I guess it wasn’t too terrible!”

Q: During episode five you mimed to music written by series composer David Arnold alongside a real string quartet – this must have been very immersive! How did it feel to work with David, and bring the ball to life?

A: “I actually didn’t meet David Arnold sadly, but I did work with Catherine Grimes, the music supervisor who is lovely. David was at the London screening but I missed an opportunity to go and say hello to him which I kicked myself about. 

I remember before I was in Scotland there was a bit of uncertainty as to whether I would need to play anything for real or not, so I practised every day playing loads of Bach and other music I thought was era-appropriate just in case they asked me to do anything on the fly. So yes, it was very immersive as you say! They sent me three pieces of music to learn which I practised in my Edinburgh apartment on a portable folding keyboard thing I bought. They introduced me to the string quartet (John, Sarah, Alison and Stephanie) and I tried to hang out with them when I could. On the day we all had earpieces to mime to. I had to mime while listening out for a cue from Nina [Sosanya] from across the room, then deliver my dialogue and carry on playing, which was tricky! The quartet and I helped each other out actually: Douglas would say something like “let’s go from a minute into the second piece of music”, I’d look at the sheet music and whisper “where the hell is that?” and one of the quartet would say “we think that’s bar 90” or something. Here’s a little bit of trivia: the shooting overran and the string quartet couldn’t make the last day, so they found some incredible lookalikes to replace them for the scene when we get lead out of the bookshop through all the demons, although I think they also kept them deliberately off camera.” 

Q: What did you think of your music shop when you first saw the set? Did you have a favourite poster or prop?

A: “I thought it was incredible! It could’ve been an actual music shop with all the instruments hanging up with the “Arnold’s” price tags on. The attention to detail was incredible, well IS incredible as I understand it’s all still there. It’s hard to pick a favourite to be honest. I did a little video walkaround on my phone at the time so maybe I’ll post that if I won’t get in trouble. Interestingly the shop interior itself was elsewhere on the set to the shop entrance you see from the street. You walk out of Aziraphale’s shop, over the road, through the door of the music shop and… there’s nothing.” 

Q: Mr. Arnold is tempted into the ball by a Doctor Who Annual and is playing the theme in the music shop scene – are you a fan of Doctor Who in real life? And what was it like making those jokes and references in front of the Tenth Doctor David Tennant?

A: “I’ve always dipped in and out of Doctor Who over the years since Sylvestor McCoy, who was doing it when I first became aware of it when I was growing up. Even if you’re not a fan it’s one of those shows you can’t really get away from, so doing that particular scene in front of David was really fun, and of course Douglas had directed Doctor Who as well. Apart from the amusing situation of two supposed Doctor Who fans talking about Doctor Who without realising they’re in the company of a Doctor Who, I also seem to remember Michael being the one to suggest that he would deliver his “due to problems at the BBC” line directly to David.

Oh, and I think it was actually my idea to grab the annual off the harpsichord before joining the queue behind Crowley at the end of the ballroom scene (which we’d shot weeks earlier at this point). When we were blocking it out and rehearsing I knew I had to leave my position and get to the front for my “surrender the angle” line, and then later it just felt like I wouldn’t leave without the annual so I ran back through everyone to grab it. Nobody seemed to have a problem with me doing that so I just carried on doing it when we shot it! I do remember it being a fun set with Douglas and the team being very open to suggestions.”

Q: How did you balance filming both Good Omens and BBC Ghosts at the same time?

A: “Luckily both shows were a joy to work on, and everyone seems to know about both of them. We were shooting them in early 2022 and I also had a little part in an ITV drama called ‘Stonehouse’, starring Matthew Macfadyen. I usually never know when I’m working next so to have three great TV jobs at once was very unusual. There was all this date juggling and I actually almost had to turn down Ghosts due to clashes. Luckily both shows had to move some dates so it worked out. But yes, I spent two weeks up in Scotland shooting all that Good Omens ballroom stuff, then I came back down to London to do Ghosts, knowing I’d be back up to shoot my scenes in the music shop in a couple of weeks. Now, when I found out who was playing my wife in Ghosts I couldn’t believe it: Caroline Sheen – Michael Sheen’s cousin! She was amazing and that was another great set in general. I say “set”, but it’s all filmed in that house which surprised me. I’d worked with Kiell [Smith-Bynoe] and Jim [Howick] before, and Charlotte [Ritchie] was in the Good Omens radio play a few years ago and a big fan of the book. Charlotte’s very musical of course and we got talking about my folding keyboard I had for practising my Good Omens stuff, and she ended up setting it up in the house for us to have a play on!

Now, when we’d shot all our internal scenes there was this big storm forecast, and our external scenes were scheduled for the day of the storm, so that had to be moved into the next week. It meant I ended up shooting those scenes outside the house, then going straight back up to Scotland to shoot the Good Omens music shop scene the next day! When I mentioned to Michael I’d just worked with Caroline he said “ooh she’s in Ghosts is she!” and revealed that she’d texted him about me which was rather surreal. Then later after the Ghosts wrap party Kiell gave me a part in his Channel 4 Blap, so at the time I felt like I was killing it career wise, but the industry quietened a bit after that and my workload eased off over the year so I was in my overdraft by November.”

Q: What are your plans for the future – can we expect to see you in something else soon?

A: “This year, after a bit of a quiet start, I was very fortunate to work on a Disney+ show called Rivals which stars… David Tennant! I think I’m allowed to say my character is called Brian, and I shot five episodes so that was another really amazing job, and great to work with David again (I told him he must be my good luck charm, although I hope he’s not sick of me). That should be out at some point in late 2024. Other than that I’ve filmed a few other bits I presume will be out next year, one of which is called Truelove on Channel 4 which actually looks really good. That starts early January. Of course now Season 3 of Good Omens has been greenlit, I would love Neil and the gang to have me back on that… but I can only keep my fingers crossed!”

[bengiyo]

GMMTV 2024 Part 1 Stray Thoughts

I have finished viewing the trailers. I'm feeling relatively cool about most of it, and I had a strong negative reaction to the announcements about two adaptations.

Here is what intrigued me in order:

My Golden Blood - When Joss and Mond rose off the ground, I also ascended. Joss and Gawin wasn't on my radar as a potential option, but I am so here for it.

Wadee Gooday - I'm so here for the adult romance, and Thor is here. A boxer and a doctor have such fascinating potential.

The Trainee - OffGun workplace romance and Love Score is playing. We are so fucking back.

On Sale - TayNew in a ghost romcom? We are so fucking back.

Pluto - Film and Namtam and Namtam is lying? I am here for it.

Kidnap - Ohm is back in BL and they gave him a gun and a little brother who shares his name. This is probably gonna be a mess but it looks fun.

Only Boo - Not sure how I feel about an idol trainee show, but Louis is here.

We Are - Why are there four couples? Engineering? Hopefully, this is going to be like MSP, and let us put this behind us.

High School Frenemy - I will have to watch School 2013 before this airs because it looks like the original was well-received and this trailer just looks like boys fighting the whole time.

My Love Mix-Up - Fourth doesn't seem to do slapstick well in this trailer, and Gem doesn't look serious enough. New Hashimoto doesn't have that glint in her eye. New Aida looks solid. I'm skeptical. More thoughts below.

Ossan's Love - Literally why?

Summer Night - Phuwin and Dunk pratfall kiss bait into het nonsense with a BL side. No thanks.

My Precious the series - I feel like any hype I had for this has evaporated. I'm past it.

Ploy's Yearbook - Apparently step-siblings fall for each other in this? No thanks.

Enigma 2 - No idea what's going on but it has clear vibes.

Alright, I'm just gonna say it: The My Love Mix-Up trailer was not good. I love Fourth and Gemini a lot. I think Fourth is really talented, and I think he and Gemini make a good team. That being said, there is a reason KH continues to get content shared on this website, and right now I don't think Fourth and Gem showed the juice to match Michieda Shunsuke and Meguro Ren.

I don't think Fourth is going to generate meme material as Thai Aoki the way Michieda did if this trailer is indicative of where he's going. I don't think Gemini is hitting the seriousness of Ida well here at all. Ida is a demisexual icon and so important to the genre, and I just don't think Gemini has this in him right now.

For those wondering why I feel so strongly about this, I will remind you that Kieta Hatsukoi is free on Viki.

We are now seeing cross-cultural adaptations of BL work, and I think that it's incredibly important to view the source work before we get into big discussions about what each adaptation does well. I am so concerned about Kieta Hatsukoi being adapted because it's so distinctly Japanese in its stylings and the dramatic tension underpinning it. The Thai trailer feels lacking to me because the angst felt so ungrounded. Fourth can moon over Gemini just fine, but there's a specificity to the mooning that he just isn't hitting here.

I will be talking about My Love Mix-Up Thailand as an adaptation of Kieta Hatsukoi. I will not be entertaining debates or discussions about it as an independent work. The trailer has called directly to the Japanese origins and it will be judged as such. If you haven't or won't watch the original or read the source work, please don't tag me, because "I'm mad as hell, and I'm not going to take this anymore."

[gojoidyll]

Honkai Star Rail Masterlist

Drabble | Jing Yuan x Reader

Oneshot | Just a Little Crush, Gepard x Reader

Headcanons | Dating Headcanons, Gepard x Male ! Doctor ! Reader

Oneshot | We Meet Again and Again, Caelus (male mc) x Reincarnated ! Xiao ! Male ! Reader

The Day To Day Life Of An Angel And The Oblivious Believer He's Fallen For!

Angel ! Sunday x Oblivious ! Reader

Summary | In which I write short drabbles here and there about Sunday struggling to try and get y/n to take a hint.

First Dates and The Friendzone

I Love You, But...

The Cliché Beach Episode

Imagine | Unknown ! Yandere x Reader

Imagine | Aventurine x Casino Dealer ! Reader

Drabble | Dan Feng/Dan Heng x Reader

Drabble | Aventurine x Vidyadhara ! Reader

Drabble | Blade x Reader

Imagine | Wrong Name, Right Name, and I Love You, Sunday x Reader

Imagine | Worry, Sunday x Reader

Imagine | Long Gone, Sparkle x Reader

Fic | There is No Law that Emperors Must be Fair

Emperor ! Jing Yuan x Princess ! Reader

Summary | You are set to marry the Emperor, Jing Yuan. In order to break the engagement, you stage an accident and fake having amnesia. But now, your own cruel, cold, and distant fiancé, who seemed to not want anything to do with you, is now acting all lovey dovey!

Drabble | A Bad Day, Jing Yuan x Reader

Headcanons | Yandere ! Sunday

Drabble | Boothill x Insecure ! Reader

Drabble | Boothill x Reader

Drabble | Sunday x Reader

Imagine | Blade x Reader

aventurine icon ♡

Teaching Aventurine how to dance

Drabble | Aventurine x Reader

Topaz x Reader x Aventurine Poly Relationship Headcanons + Part 2

Aventurine's Fem ! Significant Other getting Misgendered

You and Numby Talk, and Topaz Catches You

Drabble | Dan Heng x Reader, Caelus x Reader(?) + Pt. 2

Headcanons | Yandere ! Black Swan x gn ! Reader x Yandere ! Acheron

Oneshot | Topaz x Worried ! Reader

Fortune Teller ! Reader x Aventurine

Longing | Aventurine x Reader

Longing Pt. 2

Longing Pt. 3

Topaz x gn ! Reader Headcanons

Imagine | Slight Yandere ! Aventurine x Reader

Headcanons | Yandere ! Aventurine x Reader

Drabble | Aventurine x Sick ! s/o

Yandere ! Topaz x Princess ! Reader Headcanons

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

More Topaz <3 or When You Ask for Something Way too Expensive

Fic | Yandere ! Aventurine x Female ! Reader

Summary | All it takes is putting all the pieces together. Though, it won't do you any good if someone is deliberately destroying the pieces before you can find them.

Headcanons | Topaz x Reader (who works at a hedgehog café)

Imagine | modern high school au ! aventurine x reader

Drabble | Topaz x Injured!Fem!Reader

Teacher!Sunday

Frankenstein Monster Topaz

Aventurine x Reader x Topaz Angst + Fluff

Aventurine x Reader x Topaz

Dr Ratio

Drabble | Yandere ! Robin x Reader

Imagine | Aeon!Sunday x Reader au

Smut | Sunday x Female!Reader

Smut | Boothill x Reader

Story Teaser | Boothill x Reader

Fu Xuan x Male ! Reader

Lady Fu always looks for reasons to talk to you

Imagine | Boothill x Child ! Reader [PLATONIC]

Drabble | Boothill x Ghost ! Reader

Drabble | Various (Astral Express Crew) x Aeon ! Reader

Boothill x Halovian ! Reader

Imagine

How you met

Drabble | Boothill x Reader

Drabble | Boothill x Reader

Drabble | Boothill x Reader

Smut | Jing Yuan x Fem!Reader

Drabble | Boothill x Reader

Story Teaser | Various x Aeon ! Reader

[carefulfears]

literally thinking about how mulder is the softest man. and he loves beautifully. he's so focused on his quest because of how much he loves samantha, and his parents. he tries to hope, desperately, that samantha is alive & he'll find her even though he knows how unlikely it is. and without scully, it would have taken him much longer to face it. no one ever looked into the darkness with him or loved samantha with him or believed in him so much they always followed him & stayed present with him in those really difficult moments he couldn't get away from the grief. and everything scully does for him, he returns. he responds to how she cares, and her boundaries. and they talk but they don't really talk, so he toes the line. he's always checking in with her.

the x-files is about love because everything mulder does is through love does everybody get it!! god, it’s just so major to me, that he’s this iconic sci-fi hero who’s just 100% grounded in kindness and generosity. there’s nothing hiding around the corner. he’s not the bad boy in the basement, he’s not the maverick with a secret heart of gold, he’s just fucking nice. he cares about people. he sees people. he wants to help. he loves his sister. loves his shitty parents. loves his evil ex-partners and ex-wife. loves his friend. there’s always something deeper in mulder, but it’s always just pain. he’s not hiding anything away. he refuses to let go of anything, but never wants anyone to fall into the same trap, his or their own. he tells traumatized women who’ve been abused and imprisoned that he needs their help, that they’re capable of contributing, that he wants to know what they think. while every other cop tries to lock them up. he feels every loss, carries every ghost, never stops trying.

i just watched irresistible again, and god. the way that he pulls scully aside and tells her, it’s okay to be affected. it’s normal. “i’ve seen agents with 20 years fall apart on cases like this.” he doesn’t say that it’s because she’s a woman (like the cop in 2shy does) or because she’s young or because she’s traumatized. he never brings up her recent abduction. he just tells her that it’s okay to need space, that she can talk to him.

and scully is trying so fucking hard to be that perfect navy captain’s daughter. that girl who straightened before looking up at her father to say goodnight. that girl who, as her mother says, has “always been the strong one.”

and she tries to be the strong one. she takes a step back. she goes to therapy. she tells her therapist that she trusts her partner more than anyone, but she does not want him to know that she’s struggling. when she decides to come back, and calls him, she plays it off with a joke. (like he does). “besides, you could use my help.” when he responds, “always.” it’s so earnest and direct, without breaking her cover or stepping out of the box she created. yes, of course, agent scully. come help.

in the end, she can barely choke out that “i’m fine,” her signature move. he doesn’t say a word. he tips her chin so slightly, so that she looks at him. it’s one of the most special moments of the series, to me, the way she just breaks when she sees him. grabs him and sobs. and how you can just barely hear him whisper: “it’s alright.”

the police are still cleaning up the scene around them. i don’t think we ever see her do that again, in front of other people. but we do see her do it with him, when they’re alone, because she knows she can. that strong captain’s daughter. it’s like someone talked about on one of your posts before: scully has to be put together. she has to be the strong one. she’s trying to maintain a fragile place in “the boy’s club” (she talks about this herself). she’s trying to present respectability and a certain image.

and maybe she does have to be that person, for her parents, for her brother, for the FBI, the doctors. but mulder thinks that it’s okay to be affected. he just wants her to be able to talk about it. he wants to see her vulnerability, and shield it. in that house in minneapolis, his face breaks, but he just holds her and whispers. and she rarely falls into it, but she knows that she can, since the motel room in bellefleur. and that means something.

it’s just impossible not to soften around him. and that’s something really special, for scully, for the victims and witnesses he works with. he values their help, he already views them as strong, he wants them to express everything that they’re feeling. he believes it helps.

(mulder has said that line too, “you’re the strong one.” - to lucy householder when she was crying in the dirt)

this show was always realistic. you do have to present a certain image. most people are gonna think you’re young and weak and traumatized and stupid. but it also centered this whole thing around this one person that didn’t require any of that, and that’s why it works. why it’s so special.

[acciopietro]

doctor pt. 4

pairing: namor x fem! reader

summary: after taking some time to yourself, you allow yourself to understand.

word count: 6,349

tw: mention of death/murder, mention of wounds and blood. 

a/n: thanks for hanging in there and being patient with me, everyone. you’re all so so appreciated!!! here’s the final part :)

WEEKS CAME AND WEEKS WENT in Miami until about two months pass. You got up everyone morning, hopped on the train to work, worked until six or seven, took the train home, went to bed. Maybe you’d sprinkle in a work out or a lunch with a friend here and there, but nothing much changed. You hadn’t really spoken to your sister. And the team, well... there was no team, anymore. It was you and Dr. Mishra and Juliette, the secretary. The office was empty. Their empty chairs and cold coffee cups stared at you until you clocked out.

Every night before bed, without fail, you thought about Namor. That look on his face when he was just about ready to kill you. Then the look on his face when he had dropped to his knees, pleading for forgiveness. And then seeing Reynolds and Bernstein fall overboard. You’d squeeze your eyes shut and try and shut it all out until you’d eventually fall back asleep. Despite this, that jade-beaded bracelet never left your wrist.

You woke up in a sweat, your face pale from the horrors your mind had conjured and your skin cold and clammy from your thrashing and shivering. The trauma from the boat seemed to have followed you home to Miami. 

The cuts had healed, the bruises, too, but the memories had not left. It was difficult to have Namor plaguing both your thoughts and your nightmares at the same time. There was a dissonance in your head, where in the day you’d dream of running back to that beach in Yucatán, and in the night you’d suffer the sight of him and his soldiers about to kill you. 

You reached over towards your bedside table, picking up your phone and rolling over onto your side. There was a recent notification, it’s icon glowing green, that read Voicemail from Juliette. You let out a hmph and clicked it, pressing the speaker button so as to hear better.

“Hey Y/N, hope you’re doin’ okay,” came that sweet, swingy voice of your favorite secretary. “You’re insanely strong for still comin’ into work even after... well, after what happened. I’m calling to tell you to take a week off, all right? There ain’t no team for you to work with, but me and Mishra can hold down the fort for a bit, okay? You rest, visit your sister or something. You’re exerting yourself. Also, I’ve emailed you the number of my therapist. She’s great. Don’t be afraid to give me a call if you need anything, all right? I’ll see you in a week, okay? Don’t come to the office! Bye-bye.”

You huffed to yourself in frustration, slamming your phone down on the bed beside you. Visiting your sister sounded like a great idea, with the exception of being at such close proximity to Namor and his people. There would be no way to avoid the water of course, between your sister and her frequent strolls on the sand and your niece and her addiction to surfing.

Either way, you booked a flight for the next day. The entire flight down to Yucatán you wrestled with yourself, with your morality. Namor had killed people. Probably more in all his years of living, more than what you had witnessed. To forgive him was so forget those he had killed, even if they were horrible people like Bernstein or Reynolds. 

But there was something about him that was magnetic. His brain, his loyalty, his pride of where in which he came. The regard to which he held his people, the passion to which he protected them. The way that he spoke, the eloquence of him, the complexity of his thoughts. He was cruel. He was beautiful. 

“Oh god, you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” were your sister’s first words upon meeting you at the airport. You lugged your backpack off the plane, offering a weak but genuine smile at the sight of her face and sound of her voice. She hugged you tight, taking your bag from you. Touching a hand to your cheek, turning your face to examine you like your grandmother would, she remarked, “You’re pale as hell. What’d you do, kill somebody?”

You gave a weak chuckle. “I need a coffee.”

“You need more than just a coffee,” she said. “Let’s get you home. And get you a drink.”

The drive to your sister’s house from the airport was pleasant enough, the delicate voice of Lana Del Rey playing from her stereo and the soft morning light shining through the windows of the car. You stared at the horizon, just barely being able to see the blue ocean from where you were. You clenched your jaw and willed yourself to look away.

---

YOUR SISTER DECIDED IT WAS time for you to leave the house. She had dragged you out of bed to put on some nice clothes and then proceeded to pull you by the ear until you reached a local bar. Her husband was watching your niece, leaving the pair of you to your own devices for the night. You sat at the bar next to her, your classic Moscow Mule in your hand, zoning out to the unrecognizable music playing over the speakers. 

“Noticia de última hora (Breaking news),” spoke the lady on the news, her formal dress on the small, pixelated television standing out from the high technicolor of the club. “La reina de Wakanda ha sido reportada muerta (The queen of Wakanda has been reported dead).”

Your head snapped up, eyes now glued to the television. Your sister was blissfully unaware, chit-chatting with the barista, who just so happened to be the mother of one of your niece’s girlfriends. 

“La cause de la muerte: desconocido (The cause of death: unknown),” the reported continued. You took a large sip of your drink. “Princesa, ahora reina, Shuri aún no ha emitido una declaración. Esperamos ser informados sobre la situación pronto (Princess, now Queen, Shuri has yet to publish a statement. We hope to be informed about the situation soon).”

“That guy keeps looking at you,” your sister suddenly remarked, speaking loudly over the music. You flinched, ripping your eyes away from the television.

“Sorry?”

“That guy,” she lowered her voice and gestured with her chin to the man down the bar. “He’s been checking you out, tryna catch your eye.”

You glanced over to your right; sure enough, there was a man sitting five or six stools down from you, who, at the sight of you turning your head, quickly retracted his gaze. 

You eyed him. Based on the sight of him, you estimated he was maybe six foot tall. He had dusty brown curls, with equally as bushy brows and a roman nose. Cute, you thought. 

“You should talk to him,” your sister nudged your should. You sighed. You’d feel bad talking too much to this guy when your mind was still occupied on Namor. “C’mon, he keeps looking.”

“I dunno,” you ran a hand across your scalp. “We’ll see.”

“C’monnnn,” your sister dragged out. She picked up her drink and stood up. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom. I’m hoping you’ll be talking to him by the time I get back...”

And with that, she stood up and walked off, disappearing into the crowd. You rolled your eyes. Leave it to your sister to misinterpret your feelings and do something she thought would be good for you but might actually be horrible. You swirled your drink around, watching the vodka splashing against the sides of the class. She had good intentions, your sister, but you didn’t particularly feel like being alone with some--

“Hola,” came a soft-spoken voice from your right. You turned your head; it was the guy from down the bar, his eyes bright and his smile gentle. You blinked. “Uh... anyone sitting here?”

He gestured with his drink to the empty seat beside you. You shook your head no, bringing your cup to your lips to sip it as he sat down beside you. His voice held a slight accent, his voice wavering as if he were unsure whether or not to be speaking English to you as opposed to the Spanish that filled the club.

He twiddled his fingers on the glass of his drink, the condensation of what looked to be a rum and coke wetting his palms. He wiped his hands on a napkin and glanced at you.

“You’re not from here, right? I haven’t seen you,” he spoke, his voice deep and smooth like molasses. There was a charm to him, you had to admit.

“You’d be right,” you told him. “My sister lives here. I’m just visiting from Florida.”

“Ah,” he nodded his head. “My cousin lives in Key West.”

“Bit far from me. I’m from Miami,” you chuckled. His eyes widened. “Three hours from there.”

“Pedro,” he extended a hand. You took it, shaking it gingerly. Pedro smiled. 

“Y/N.”

“Was that your sister, who you were just with?”

You nodded your head. “Yeah, she’s just running to the bathroom.”

“I know her,” he gave you a sheepish look. “I teach at the local elementary school. Her daughter’s in my class.”

It was your turn to have wide eyes and a smile. “No way! That’s amazing!”

“She’s a great student,” Pedro told you. “I feel like I can remember her mentioning her Tía once or twice...”

Your sister never quite came back from the bathroom. She shot you a text asking if it was all right for her to go right home, and you told her to do whatever she wanted. You continued to speak with Pedro, the conversation eventually straying from the topic of your niece and onto your work, and eventually onto your recent experience on the mining ship. Apparently, word had gotten out about you being one of the lone survivors.

Pedro offered to go for a walk on the beach to talk some more. Hesitant at first due to the water, you eventually agreed. It wasn’t like Namor was going to pop out of the water and reveal himself to you when someone else was with you. You exited the bar with Pedro after he oh-so-kindly paid for your drink, and with your sandals eventually coming off your feet and into your hands, your stride found the sand.

“That must have been pretty taxing, huh?” Pedro remarked when you told him the tale, leaving out the important detail of Namor and Talokan’s existence. “I can’t imagine going through that. You’re crazy strong.”

“All in a days work, I guess,” you shrugged, dragging your feet through the sand. You stopped, glancing off at the horizon, seeing the occasional tale of a dolphin in the far distance.

“Well, I feel bad for keeping you out too late,” Pedro checked his watch, shuffling in place a bit. “You’re a busy woman, I assume.”

“I am,” you smiled at him. “But it’s okay. Need a break every once in a while, y’know?”

“Damn straight,” Pedro nodded his head, running a hand through his dusty brown hair and glancing off at the horizon. He was standing pretty close to you, you noticed, and you weren’t sure whether or not to step back or not. “It was really great to meet you, Y/N.”

“You as well,” you told him honestly. You could sense him leaning towards you. “You’re a great listener.”

“You’re a great-- erm-- talker,” he said bashfully, covering his eyes for a second after saying that. “That was stupid, sorry.”

“It’s all right,” you chuckled. He laughed as well, his eyes glancing from eye to eye, and then to your lips for a prolonged moment, and then back to your eyes.

You couldn’t tell what you wanted, but even as he loomed closer and closer you figured you had less time to decide. By the time he was barely an inch from you, you figured you’d throw caution to the wind and go with it.

He pressed his lips onto your very gently, like he was nervous to do so, and while it was a great kiss, you almost flinched when you closed your eyes and only saw Namor. His great big ebony eyes, the feeling of the curve of his jaw on your palm, the aquiline slope of his nose. You felt your stomach turn, and you pulled away from him.

“I’m sorry,” you immediately said. Pedro’s eyes furrowed a bit, but he said nothing. “I... you’re really, really sweet, and... a great kisser...”

His lips twitched up in amusement.

“But I’m just not in a good place for this,” you told him honestly. “My last...erm... relationship ended on a weird note, and... I’m just not in the right place to be with anyone else. I didn’t mean to lead you on like this. I thought I’d be ready, but I... I’m really not. I’m sorry.”

“I get it,” Pedro gave a kind smile. “Thanks for being honest with me, at least. Weird note, huh?”

You breathed a chuckle. “Yeah. Super weird, super complicated.”

“I understand,” Pedro nodded his head. He reached into his pocket, grabbing a crumpled receipt from the bar and a small pen. He scribbled something down. “Look, I’m not telling you I’m gonna wait, but... if in a few weeks or so, you feel like you could be up to something, call me. If not, then it was just great to talk to you tonight.”

“You’re so nice,” you said sadly. “I’m sorry. I feel really bad.”

“Don’t,” Pedro insisted, handing you the receipt with his number on it. “Really. Take care of yourself, okay? You need a ride home?”

“No, that’s all right,” you shook your head. “I’m down that way. I’ll walk.”

“All right,” he smiled. “I’ll see you around, okay? I’ll tell your niece I met her legendary Tía.”

Pedro left, the only sign of his presence being the size-ten footprints painting the trail to where he went off to, and the lingering feeling of his lips on yours. You wiped at your mouth, feeling guilty, and squeezed your eyes shut momentarily. You needed to think.

The waves crashed behind you as you walked up to the waters edge, your bare feet pressed into the damp sand. The water didn’t quite run over your toes, rather it teetered right in front of them like it was nervous to touch you. You sighed, strolling along it down the beach towards the rocks, dragging your feet in the sand. Each step you took, the water didn’t touch you; it kept creeping next to your steps, hesitant, apprehensive.

You paused at some point, shifting your gaze onto where the water waited in front of you. Lips curving down, you sat down on the sand, your knees pressed together, and put your hands over your face. You didn’t think you would cry, but when you pulled your hands off, your palms were wet with salty tears. So were your cheeks.

Wiping at your face, the beads of your jade bracelet brushed against your jawline. You stared down at it, the beautiful weave-work, the intricate design on each jade bead. Fiddling with it, you stared off at the dark horizon, the moon’s pale light reflecting off of the sea as you felt more tears run down your face.

What was there to do? Each choice felt wrong; to call him, to forgive him for all he’s done and let him embrace you made you feel guilty. Hugging and kissing the man responsible for too many deaths to count. But leaving-- abandoning him, would crush you too much. It was all too much.

“Oh, hell,” you muttered under your breath, shimmying the jade bracelet off of your wrist and holding it up in front of you. Pursing your lips to choke back any more tears, you wiped at your face before drawing your arm as far back as it could go before launching the bracelet into the ocean. 

It soared through the night sky, going surprisingly further than you had imagined, and as you watched it plummet towards the water, your heart clench. What had you done? That had been Namor’s mothers! You shot up to your feet, but before the bracelet had disappeared into the blue, a hand shot up out of the water. You froze. 

The golden cuff on the hands wrist glimmered under the moonlight, the jade bracelet trapped under the strong fingers. Slowly, an arm followed the hand, followed by a head right next to it. Namor rose out of the sea, water rolling down his shoulders and chest, his brown hair turned black by the water dripping over his forehead. 

Unlike usual, he wasn’t wearing his typically adornments; his neckline was void of the golden chest plate, and aside from the small golden cuffs on his wrists, all he wore was the green shorts he always wore. It was like he had suddenly gotten out of bed and fled to the surface without getting dressed. 

You stared at him as he waded through the water towards you, the bracelet still in his hand. His face was downcast, bags under his ebony eyes and a frown on his lips. He walked up until he was right in front of you, your feet on the dry sand and his in the water.

Opening up his palm and staring down at the bracelet that laid there, he sighed and said, “Doctor, I hope you didn’t mean to do that.”

“I didn’t,” you said quietly, so soft he almost didn’t hear you. “Well, I did, but... I didn’t. I didn’t. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry,” Namor told you carefully, his voice steady. You blinked at him, frowning, unsure what to say. He stared at the bracelet for a moment, before holding a free hand out to grab your wrist. His eyes shifted up to you for consent to touch you.

You lifted your hand out, and his calloused hands grabbed onto your wrist to slip the bracelet back over your wrist. You got deja vu to the night you first left him, when he gave you the bracelet in the first place. His hands never left your wrist then, and they didn’t now, simply holding onto it.

“Who... who were you with, just now?” he asked in an attempt to be subtle but failing miserably. You couldn’t help but smile a little. You shook your head.

“No one,” you told him honestly, not meeting his eyes.

“You kissed,” he muttered. You narrowed your eyes.

“So you’ve been watching me?”

Namor rolled his eyes, shaking his head and not meeting your eyes but never verbally denying your statement. His fingers fiddling with the string of the bracelet, not daring to look at your face. The brown-black hair on his head had begun to dry, swooping delicately above his brows.

You glanced down to his cheek, your own brows twitching in confusion. Three long cuts drew down the length of his right cheek. A scar had formed overtop of them, and they looked like they had been cleaned up and stitched real nice, but they were so red that you were sure they still hurt. You lifted a hand, as if to touch his face to examine them, but you dropped your head and leaned back, catching yourself in the act. 

“What... what happened?” you asked him, staring at the cuts. He lowered his head, bringing the pads of his fingers up to graze over the three scratches. Namor said nothing, just bringing his eyes back up to meet yours, ebony irises trailing across yours. You forced yourself to break the eye contact and look at the cuts again; it was like they were claw marks. “Can you tell me?”

Namor opened his mouth, about to speak, but closed his lips and swallowed his words. You narrowed your brows at him. 

“What did you--”

“Come with me,” he extended his hand suddenly. You blinked, glancing down at it.

“Sorry?”

“Please come with me,” he rephrased. You stared at his hand, at his calloused fingers and bronze skin. “I would like to show you something.”

“Tell me what happened first,” you took a step away from him, eyeing him carefully. He sighed, and in his silence, you glanced down to the wings at his feet only to see that on his left ankle, only one wing remained. In the place of where the other one once was a bright red cut that had been poorly stitched. His entire ankle was bruised. “Oh my gosh, your... your...”

“Talokan went to war,” Namor said bitterly. “Against Wakanda.”

You breathed a curse, only biting at the inside of your cheek. Your mind wandered back to the news report about Queen Ramonda’s death. You met his eyes and gave him a look, your heart sinking.

“You... you didn’t...?” you gulped, staring at him. His brows twitched upwards, his lips curving into a frown. “You didn’t. Please tell me you didn’t.”

“I had to,” he shook his head. “It was my people that were on the line.”

“You didn’t have to do anything,” you pointed a finger at him. “She had a daughter. You killed her mother. Can you even imagine what she’s going through?”

“I can,” Namor told you firmly, stepping forward. “And I have.”

You said nothing, just frowning at him. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, gathering himself, before he looked back down at you.

“And that is why I need to show you this,” he put out his hand for you to grab again. “I need you to see where I am coming from.”

“Where are you taking me?” you glanced at his hand, meeting his eyes for a moment before sighing and taking it. You hand folded into his, your heart twisting at his touch.

“Talokan.”

---

THE JOURNEY INTO THE DEPTHS of the ocean was like nothing you had seen before. Namor had taken something out of his pocket, one of those devices you saw his soldiers wearing over their mouth and noses. You had barely held onto your consciousness as he swam you down there, and it wasn’t until you reached some kind of half-above half-below water area that you felt fully awake.

“Much ch'aik u ba'al u nook' síis yéetel jump'éel tin taasaj (Please grab her some fresh clothes and a suit),” you heard Namor speak. Your eyes fluttered open, and he had taken the device off of your nose and mouth. Your head was in his lap, you realized. “Níib óolal (Thank you).”

You blinked a few times to wake yourself up; glancing about you, you saw the color of the blue water reflecting off of the white stalactites and stalagmites around the cave, making everything appear to be shades of blue. You groaned, your head pounding as you tried to sit yourself up. Namor’s head snapped down to you.

“Oh, you’re awake,” he said, steadying you and helping you as you sat up. He had a small smile on his face as you glanced around, feeling discombobulated. He glanced over to his right, where a woman with blue skin stood. “Wa pudieras Mach ti' ba'al u jantej... jump'íit ja'...(If you could grab her something to eat... some water...).”

The woman immediately disappeared into some other room behind her. You blinked at Namor after watching the woman walk away. Clearing your throat, you croaked, “Is this Talokan?”

Namor chuckled. “No. This is a half-way point, so to speak. I have to get you in a suit. And out of these wet clothes.”

He lifted up your soaking wet sleeve before lifting his head and glancing elsewhere. You glanced down at yourself, realizing that your white shirt was soaking wet and entirely see-through. You felt your face get hot as you wrapped your arms around yourself, but you felt less uncomfortable then you would’ve though; Namor was purposefully not looking, his ears slightly red, glancing over at where the woman had disappeared. You saw the wings on his ankles flutter.

“Waye', K’uk’ulkan (Here, K’uk’ulkan),” in came another woman, carrying what looked like some kind of dress, as well as one of those little devices to go over your nose and mouth. Namor gave the woman a nod of his head in thanks, and, helping up to your feet, took the dress from her to hand to you.

“You may change into this,” he told you. You took it from you, the linen and cloth soft against your cold skin. You blinked at him. He blinked back.

“Not here,” you told him pointedly. “Where can I...?”

His lips curled up and he chuckled before pointing to a small room behind you. You went in and changed, stripping the wet clothes and shivering before you draped the dress over you.

It warmed you up quick, but without a mirror you had no way of telling if it was on the right way, so you assumed it would be fine. You emerged from the small room, and Namor smiled at the sight of you. 

“Suits you,” was all he said, biting the inside of his cheek as if to stop himself from smiling to wide at the sight of you in Talokan’s dress. “Let’s get you into a suit, then.”

“What for?” you asked, following him as the pair of you ventured further into the cave. “I thought I could just wear that thing over my face.”

“Oh, no,” Namor shook his head. “You are human. The pressure of the ocean would crush every bone in your body. Even my considerable strength couldn’t save you from it.”

“You know,” you gulped. “You’re not really selling this underwater-city thing.”

“The suit will keep you safe,” he reassured you with a joking smile, opening up a rather large closet and pulling out a type of diving-suit. “Step in.”

The suit felt bulky and uncomfortable, but you were the knowledge that it would keep you safe so deep in the water had pacified your anxieties. Practically waddling behind him, the pair of you dove into the water, and he lead you to a stream of rushing water.

“In you go,” he said, nudging you so you were in it. Without warning, the water pushed you at top speed into the depths. You yelped, but glancing behind you and seeing him laugh at you made you a little less worried. It was still equally as terrifying. 

The deep ocean was darker than you thought it would be, and at some point you couldn’t even see your hands in front of you. It wasn’t until the stream fell off that you realized there was a light coming from your suit, helping you see. Namor came to your side and guided you further across the sand.

A giant whale bellowed above you, making you flinch and jump inside the suit. Namor laughed at you as it swam by, waving to the three Talokanil that were holding into its fins. Your jaw was permanently agape, and Namor took you by the arm and pulled you towards Talokan.

It was like nothing you had ever seen before. It was reminiscent of all of the ancient mesoamerican artifacts you had seen in Yucatán, but entirely its own type of architecture and energy. It was practically dipped in vibranium, every building and structure shining under a source of light you hadn’t found yet.

Kids played with balls, women and their babies waved hello, others were farming further down below. Upon seeing Namor, those nearby bowed their heads and opened their palms to him, just as they had on the mining ship. Namor, always, greeting them back. Some stared at you like you were a ghost.

A child swam up to you, curious. She looked young, maybe four years old at most. She greeted Namor, to which he greeted her back with a grin, before she turned to you and tapped on the glass of your suit. You giggled at her, and she clung onto your arm, swinging from it. 

Someone called out from the distance, and the girl only giggled more before letting her grasp on you go. She waved goodbye and swam away, laughing the entire way. You watched who you assume to be her mother, grab her by the waist and lift her, spinning her around with a grin. This place was beautiful, you thought. These people were beautiful. 

You glanced at Namor; he was already staring at you, a smitten smile on his face. He didn’t look away until he gestured you to follow him again. You did so without hesitation. 

Glancing off into the distance, was the sun. Well, maybe not the real sun, but it was almost as bright as it, and hung in the air as if it were setting. 

“Woah,” you breathed out loud, staring at in wonder. 

“It is called the Sastun. We use it for our rituals. In the depths of the ocean,” Namor said, staring at it as if it were the first time. “I brought the sun to my people.”

You turned to him, amazed. This was all his, you thought. He was in charge of protecting this entire nation. Your heart was churning in your chest, not just at the sight of him, but at the sight of all he had built here. You felt like crying.

“Do you see?” he asked you, breaking the silence and turning to face you. “You must know that I do not... kill... because I am cruel. Or for sport. I do it because I am willing to do anything for them. For this, I would kill a thousand vibranium-hunting scientists, if it meant keeping them from finding us.”

You only stared at him. The knowledge that he has killed never sat well with you. But, guiltily, you understood. This was his home. These were his people. It was his duty to protect them. You got it.

“Come,” he said after a very long pregnant pause. “Let’s get you out of that thing.” 

---

EVENTUALLY, THE PAIR OF YOU MADE your way back up to the cave where you could survive without the suit or the device over your nose and mouth. Your clothes, to your amazement, were perfectly dry when you took the suit off. Wiping off the water that had dripped onto you from the taking off the suit process, Namor lead you into a room that was an offset of the main one that you had woken up in. 

On the walls were beautifully painted murals, depicting what you assumed was the history of Talokan and it’s people. You stared at them, strolling about the room; Namor stood at the doorway, staring at you as you stared at the paintings. One was of a woman holding a child with winged ankles; you assumed it was Namor’s mother. One was of the Black Panther-- showing the battle you assumed he fought recently. 

On the table, however, was a canvas. Around it and on the floor were crushed balls of papyrus, covering in smudged charcoal and ink. Namor hastened forward and grabbed the canvas off of the desk before you could see what was on it, and slid it into the drawer.

“What was that?” you asked. Namor shook his head. 

“Unimportant,” he told you, very obviously lying. “Just... sketches.”

“Hm,” you squinted at him before sitting down on the chair. “These are beautiful.”

“Thank you,” he said earnestly, gazing up at them. He ran his hand over the one of the woman and her infant, his fingers tracing the face of the woman.

“Is that your mother?”

“It is,” Namor sighed. “I told you before that I could understand what the Princess was going through, and I was telling the truth. My mother wasn’t killed, no, but my people were. My mother and her village were driven from their maize farms by Spanish conquistadors who brought smallpox, hateful language, and dogma from another world.”

He dropped his hand from the mural, turning around to face you. He pulled up the other chair to sit across from you, sighing again and continuing.

“Facing starvation, war and disease my people turned to Chaac. Our god of rain and abundance. My mother was pregnant with me at the time. She did not want to ingest the plant, for fear of what it may do to me. But the Shaman was convincing. The plant took away their ability to breathe air, but it enabled them to draw oxygen from the sea.

“My people settled in the ocean, away from the war and were cured of their diseases. My mother gave birth to me here, and I became the first born son of Talokan. I was different from other Talokanil. A mutant. I looked different. I was small in size. A runt. But I could breathe the air our ancestors breathed.

“I could swim in the sky and aged slower. As she grew older, my mother mourned the life on land that she once knew and died with a broken heart. My mother made me promise to bury her in the soil of her homeland. But nothing could prepare me for what I would find.“

“What happened?” you asked, however you had an inclining that you knew exactly what he was going to say.

“Terror,” he told you, a grave expression on his face. “My people. Enslaved. By the Spanish.”

You swallowed. You knew it. You studied this in school, how the Spanish “explored” and conquered areas in Mexico and Florida. The look on Namor’s face made you want to cry.

“A Spanish man of faith cursed me as he died by my hand,” he continued, shaking his head. “Called me el niño sin amor.”

“Child without love,” you translated.

“And I took my name from that. Namor. Because I have no love for the surface world,” he grabbed a type of cape off of the back of his chair and draped it over his shoulders, fiddling with the cloth. “Upon returning, I was made King, recognized as K’uk’ulkan, and Talokan grew under my rule.”

“I’m sorry you went through that,” was all you could say. “That’s... I just...”

You could feel your chest churning, your eyes welling up. You were embarrassed of the level of your empathy, how much you cared; you hadn’t realized he meant so much to you, not fully. Hearing his pain, the struggle of his people, it was like living it. He frowned.

“I’m sorry,” you covered up your face. “I don’t mean to... I’m just--”

“Don’t apologize,” he moved his chair forward, gingerly removing your hands from your face and holding them in his own. “Please don’t. It warms me to see that you understand the gravity of the situation I am in.”

“I don’t think it was right of you to kill Queen Ramonda,” you told him, sniffling. “But I... I guess I...”

“I don’t think it was right of me either,” he admitted. “I think it ruined any chances of Talokan becoming peaceful allies with Wakanda. We are allies, now... but... it is not how I would’ve hoped.”

“I get that,” you told him, relishing in the feeling of his thumbs absentmindedly rubbing circles across your knuckles. There was a long silence. You were relishing in the warmth of him, his closeness. It had only been two months since you saw him last, on the boat, but even that, you realized, was too long.

“I must get you home, now,” Namor told you finally, a slight frown on his face, his eyes knowing. You gazed at him, your teary eyes unable to do anything else. He was right, you knew that; your sister was no doubt hysterical. But you couldn’t find it in you to move. “Unless, you... well...”

“What?” you tilted your head to the side.

“You could stay,” he shrugged. Your lips curled up. “Here. It’s safe, there’s plenty of food and water... many of my people stay up here. We could find a way for you to go down to Talokan without the bulky suit, and--”

“Slow down,” you breathed pleasantly, leaning forward and cupping a hand to his cheek. He shut up instantly, leaning into your hand. “I have a job. And a sister. I... I can’t just...”

“I know,” he heaved a sigh. “Worth a shot, no?”

“I can’t live here,” you told him. “But for the night... well...?”

Namor suddenly grinned, wider than you had ever seen him grin before. The apples of his cheeks had turned a berry color, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Leaning towards you, he pressed his lips onto yours. You could feel his smile through the kiss, and you couldn’t help but smile yourself as his hands cupped at the sides of your cheeks.

He led you to stand, getting to his feet as well, and pulled you flush against him. You breathed him in, finding it hard to smile as your lips moved against his. The pair of you wandered backwards towards the far wall that was empty of the mural. 

Your back hit the wall, and you giggled against his lips as he moved to you two were practically chest to chest. Namor grinned too, pulling away from a second, both hands still on either sides of your cheeks, and he stared at you for a second. 

“Nib óolal, Chaac, tuméen taasik teen ti' leti',” he mumbled to himself, kissing your lips again before kissing your cheekbones, your forehead, your nose, your neck.

“What’s-- that-- mean?” you asked, struggling o speak because he kept kissing you and interrupting.

“Nothing,” he grinned cheekily. You narrowed your eyes.

“C’mon,” you nudged him. He shook his head. 

“You’ll find out later,” Namor told you, rubbing a thumb across your cheekbone. 

“Promise?” you lifted up a pinky. He furrowed his eyes, staring at it. You giggled and peeled his free hand off of you, linking pinkies with him. “Pinky-promise.”

“That is ridiculous,” Namor declared. “Yes, I promise. I don’t understand this pinky-thing.”

You rolled your eyes and kissed him again.

---

translation:

“Nib óolal, Chaac, tuméen taasik teen ti' leti'.” -- Thank you, Chaac, for bringing me to her.

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a/n: having wakanda forever on disney plus has seriously fueled my fire. thank god we got these high quality gifs now cuz my guy looks stunning

[summerboyjihoon]

[3rdeyeblaque]

On September 29th we venerate Ancestor, Voodoo Priestess, & Hoodoo Saint Mama Julia Brown on the 108th anniversary of her passing 🕊

[for our Hoodoos of the Vodou Pantheon]

Mama Julia Brown was a Hoodoo woman, healer, & Voodoo Priestess who - on the day of her funeral - took the entire parish of St. John, to her grave.

There was once a very small town called, Frenier, surrounded by Manchac Swamp in St. John's Parish in Acadiana, Lousiana. Here is where Mama Julia Brown (born Julia Bernard in about 1845) lived on a 40 acre homestead on the edge of the swamp; left to her after her husband's passing in 1914.

It is believed that Mama Julia moved to Frenier from New Orleans where she was already established as a Voodoo Priestess known for her charms and curses.

There were no doctors in Frenier, so Mama Julia served as midwife & traiteur (healer) to the few yet proud locals. Folks went to her often. She was especially known for her singing - what many perceived as - eerie songs with her guitar on her porch.

Overtime, the locals began to take Mama Julia’s services for granted. Soon, they noticed a change in her. For their ungratefulness, she started to scare them by fortelling when terrible things were about to happen to them.

Once she knew that her own life was near its end, Mama Julia spent her last days on her porch steady singing, “One day I’m gonna die, and I’m gonna take all of you with me."

On September 29th 1915 Mama Julia passed away. The townsfolk gathered to lay her to rest. As they placed her casket into the ground, heavy hurricane rains forced them back into their homes. The storm surge rose to 13ft as winds howled at 125 mph. The rain and winds were so powerful that it wiped out the entire town, along with 2 neighboring small towns of Ruddock & Naptown. Roads were flattened. Buildings demolished. And miles of railway tracks were washed away into the swamp. There were no known survivors. The hurricane, it seemed, came out of nowhere.

A newspaper account from 1915 describes Mama Julia Brown's funeral on the day of the storm: “Many pranks were played by wind and tide. Negroes had gathered for miles around to attend the funeral of ‘Aunt’ Julia Brown, an old negress who was well known in that section, and was a big property owner. The funeral was scheduled … and ‘Aunt’ Julia had been placed in her casket and the casket in turn had been placed in the customary wooden box and sealed. At 4 o’clock, however, the storm had become so violent that the negroes left the house in a stampede, abandoning the corpse. The corpse was found Thursday and so was the wooden box, but the casket never has been found.”

Voodoo is, of course, is much more about healing & liberation than curses & crossings. For this reason, there are many in the Community who did not believe that Mama Julia placed any sort of curse on Frenier, despite the reasons she may have had. Instead, some believe that Mama Julia's songs were a warning to the townsfolk of an impending doom. And that she might've done ritual work to prevent the storm from hitting Frenier, but was too late.

“Aunt Julia Brown … always sat on her front porch and played her guitar and sang songs that she would make up. The words to one of the songs she sang said that one day, she would die and everything would die with her.” - personal account of Helen Schlosser Burg; longtime resident of Frenier.

Today Mama Julia rests in perpetual tranquility at the grounds of Frenier, now a mass grave, in Manchac Swamp. Though she become quite the ghost story icon, Mama Julia Brown is most affectionately remembered as a beloved Hoodoo woman; as healer and midwife. That her spirit is less of a thing to fear in the swamp than the gators, snakes, and other predatory creatures that stir.

Offering suggestions: hurricane water, money/coins, swamp soil, play/sing the guitar, & cypress

‼️Note: offering suggestions are just that & strictly for veneration purposes only. Never attempt to conjure up any spirit or entity without proper divination/Mediumship counsel.‼️

[partywithponies]

Photos of all of the above under the cut:

[myfanficlibraries]

Jake Jensen

Alpha!Jake

1) Everything for You by @imaginedreamwrite       Ongoing Series

2) Vengeful Jake by @imaginedreamwrite

Angst

1) Between a Wolf and a Hard Place by @peyton--warren       Featuring Captain Syverson       Fluff

2) You Loved Me Once by @nifolution       Plus Size Reader

Boss!Jake

1) Love Me Harder by @syntheticavenger      Ongoing Series

Fluff

1) Arts and Crafts by @ronearoundblindly

2) Birthday Cake by @amythedvdhoarder

3) Catch Your Breath by @nifolution       Complete Series

4) Dynamite Ball Skills by @writercole

5) How You Met by @stargazingfangirl18      Part of a larger series

6) Husband Material by @thornsnvultures

7) Midnight Cravings by @justalonelyslytherin

8) Nostalgia by @star-trekkin-across-theuniverse

9) Pillow Fort & Pizza by @foxgloveprincess

10) Rekindling Romance by @imaginedreamwrite

11) Spider Chronicles by @secretswiftymarvelfan       Giant spider mentioned, not shown       Small spider icons shown

12) Three Against One by @secretswiftymarvelfan

13) What About Me by @cottagecheese1       Featuring Ari Levinson

14) You Make Nerdy Sexy by @i-have-a-wonky-eye-too       College AU       Implied Smut

Smut

1) All Yours by @fiery-empath       Angst       Friends with Benefits

2) Clever Compromises by @royalsweetteaa       Featuring Ransom Drysdale

3) Golden Retriever by @holylulusworld       Sub!Jake

4) Great Minds by @ramp-it-up       Plus Size Reader

5) Handcuffed Drabble by @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

6) I Get Off by @missusbarnes-rogers       Soft Dark       Voyeurism

7) I Need Your Help Doctor by @nightlyshame

8) Misguided Ghosts by @georgiapeach30513       Featuring Charles Blackwood       Ongoing Series

9) Mrs. Rabbit by @xcaptain-winterx

10) Overtime by @navybrat817       Featuring Bucky Barnes

11) Pleasure Dom by @syntheticavenger

12) Punishing Jake by @the-iceni-bitch       Bondage       Sub!Jake

13) Shibari by @bonkywobble

14) Tech Tuesday by @littlelioncub43       Voyeurism

Soulmate AU

1) Fucking Brian by @bonkywobble       Fluff

2) Songbird by @slothspaghettiwrites       Fluff