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divno · 2 years

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The poets at a wedding

anderperry wedding I guess?

Knox

would definitely cry at the wedding

would be in almost every picture

I feel like he would be the wedding planner and be very passionate about every choice

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN PASTELS WON'T BE THE BEST COLOUR PALETTE"

"omg I love this song! let's dance!"

"you said that about every song"

"shut up and dance with me"

would be drunk sobbing even more by the end of the night

("there there knoxy poxy"

"but they are so beautiful. they grow up so fast" *sobs hysterically*)

Cameron

designated driver honestly

would probably have to carry someone home

he would be the only one who isn't a mess by the end of the wedding and has all his clothes on

("for the love of god Charlie please put back your pants"

"OH MY GOD NEIL NOT HERE DO THAT WITH TODD WHEN YOU GO HOME"

"knox....that's not where your tie should be")

would help calculate the budget

I don't think he would be grumpy. as a matter of fact I think he would really enjoy himself and cheer super loudly

he would probably play the clarinet too!!

and give a huge speech before the song

(and in the end, just as everyone would want him to get on with the song, he would say "this goes out to Neil and Todd. Quite literally, for this was the song I used to play as loud as possible so I won't hear Todd and Neil in the next room" and all the poets would hoot racously while a mortified Todd buries his head in Neil's neck)

Pitts

He is the minister (he lost a bet and no, he will not elaborate) and is just grinning broadly as he marries his best friends and trying not to wolf whistle

He and Meeks would be in charge of the music for sure

He would help select the venue and set up the tent too

He is the one who carries in all the chairs and tables and runs back and forth while Cameron and Charlie argue on where things should be set

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD,LEFT OR RIGHT. IF YOU BOTH DON'T AGREE I WILL DROP IT ON YOUR HEAD"

would make the cute ppt!

He would light up like a candle when he sees spaghetti and meatballs

"SPAGHETTI AND MEATBALLS"

he would have to keep bending for photographs or stand in the back

he would also give piggy back rides!

Charlie

chaotic dumbass

he would get drunk and dance on the tables so exhuberantly people would move away in fear of injury

"TO INDEED BE A GOD"

("in the name of all the poets, please stop flirting with the chocolate fountain and get down charlie"

"PISS OFF THIS IS THE LOVE OF MY LIFE"

"I thought I was the love of your life"

"sprout out chocolate like a human hosepipe and then we'll talk")

Neil's best man

his speech....would be SO obscene

like literally every parent would look horrified

Neil would do everything in his power to not laugh while Todd would probably spit out his champagne on the nearest person's face

would take credit for calling on anderperry before anyone else

( "Thank you for playing but I'm afraid that was me, Mr. Dalton"

"No way,captain. I called it the moment their eyes met. my antennae is superior. I have a love radar built in to my system"

"Charlie, it took you so long to realize Ginny and Chris were together"

"they are WHAT")

would wolf whistle when Neil walks down the aisle

he would play the sax!

Meeks

I feel like he would be Todd's best man

and he would be so honoured

would be beaming the entire time

help with the music (would probably play it on the radio he and Pitts were working on!)

and the ppt

he would also take SO MANY PICTURES because he would be the best photographer who knows how to operate a camera without breaking it

the golden one would be of Charlie falling off the table

he would print it out and label it "modern icarus"

I don't know why but I picture Meeks to be really good at baking and would probably bring cupcakes for everyone

he would criticise the desert as if he were a judge in a bake off

("ugh what is that lemon-y taste"

"Uh, lemon? this is a lemon meringue, Meeks. Will you only read labels if they are in Latin?"

"What if I will?"

"OH, then I should probably get a Latin phrase tattooed on my-"

"hands so they look aesthetically pleasing when you read the Bible, yes")

Chris

would be dancing so much

and get red faced from the drinks

I feel like she would dance on the tables along with Charlie until they accidentally kick a pyramid of wine glasses and need to be dragged down

she would set up a lovely photo booth

would be SO lively and cheerful

giving everyone hugs

stomp her feet and scream happily anytime any dirty song comes along and would dance the craziest, dragging Ginny to the dance floor

would start a dance chain where everyone grabs the shoulders of the person in front and hop around the dance floor. All the poets would have their ties around their heads

Ginny

super happy for Neil and Todd because she knew Neil was in love with Todd the moment she heard him talk about his lovely roommate during midsummer rehearsals

would be dancing so much with Chris, grinning and laughing all the while

Chris can't take her eyes off her

and the way Ginny looks at Chris OH MY GOD GET A ROOM

The only person who could dance as much as or more than her would be Knox.

She would probably make a replica of Puck's crown and make Neil wear it in the photobooth

would admire the decorations

would take so many pictures of her friends

she would be an amazing photographer too

would probably wear the jazz hands pose during pictures

and when she gets drunk she says things things to Chris that make her look like she is going to combust

Keating

would walk Neil down the aisle

would cry because his heart feels so full

would recite a poem as he dances with the poets

would lead the poets and scream YAWP

he reminds them all of love, love and love

they would all lift him in the air too like they did in the football pitch

He would feel so happy and proud

"Mr. Anderson are you a man or an amoeba"

he would take a picture with all the poets and keep it in his pocket

he would dance with everyone and then eventually just chill by the drinks counter,making everyone around him laugh or feel inspired (or both)

and of course

Neil

can't stop grinning

would be SO happy honestly

the soft looks he would give Todd the entire time OMG

would swoon at the sight of Todd in a suit

would mouth "I love you" when he walks down the aisle

his vows would make Todd laugh and cry at the same time and the sight just warms Neil's heart

He would be dancing with EVERYONE

everyone moves out of the way in a hurry when he dances with Charlie

would be hooting and screaming while dancing

His face would be red - either from dancing or drinks or laughter or because of the things Todd is whispering in his ear

would take so many pictures of and with Todd

his dance with todd would be like a fairytale. people would honestly be awestruck because they are so gorgeous and they are proof that love exists goddammit

and while dancing he would keep telling Todd how beautiful he is and some other things too that makes Todd either trip on his dress shoes or give that certain grin that Neil is pretty sure would bring him to his knees

he would make sure Todd feels comfortable and at peace and he knows he is by just looking at his face

Todd

so happy

nervous excitement ofc but he is at bliss and he has that adorable giggly grin on which is so contagious

his vows bring everyone to tears.

he recites a poem that renders everyone speechless

he is slightly crying and laughing at the same time at Neil's vows

he sways dreamily and people aren't even sure if it is because of the drinks; he is in the moment and he is revelling in the bliss and the euphoric realization that this is all real

and when he feels jitters, he squeezes Neil's hands and his heart immediately falls at ease and fills with warmth when Neil pulls away from the crowd and stays with him

He dances with everyone too, and nearly falls when Charlie spins him but he does a neat but accidental trick that makes the whole thing look so swuave the only thing that ruined it was his adorable look of surprise

he would keep telling Neil how much he loves him and how proud he is of Neil

he dances with Keating too and it's the most precious thing

dancing with Neil is one of the best moments in his life and he wants to stay there forever until Neil whispers something that makes him want to find the nearest room

he would smile at guests and honestly he doesn't have to say much. his dazzling smile says it all

when he drinks and gets in the mood he is so sweet and lively and he has so much fun with all of his poets, talking and dancing and laughing.

he would also say something super sarcastic

("Neil, your husband is being mean"

"I know"

"ew I should have known you would be into that"

"Hey-no- *looks at Todd for support*

*Todd grins, looks away and shrugs*)

he tells everyone how much he cherishes and loves them and his heart feels so full

he feels loved and at home

@aedan-mills @inahallucination @pittsiesmeeks @ameliterature

#dead poets society #dps #anderperry #john keating #mr keating #charlie dalton #knox overstreet #gerard pitts #richard cameron #steven meeks #chris noel #ginny danburry #headcanon #anderperryheadcanons #anderperry wedding #dps wedding #dead poets society wedding #dps headcanon #dead poets society headcanon

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hawksugarbaby · 3 years

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Kirishima x reader - Drag

Fluff + drag queen Kirishima

"EIJIRO KIRISHIMA!" you sprinted to his room with a crinkling plastic bag in hand while shoving other students out the way. You knocked on his door rapidly bouncing up and down "yes (y/n)?" you shoved the plastic bag in his face and grinned from ear to ear "I saw your Instagram..." his eyes shot open and he immediately started hunting for excuses "uh it was a bet? I lost a bet to mina I promise" he slowly backed up into his room trying to hide the makeup palettes on his shelf and pushing away the feminine clothes lying on the floor "make me pretty!" you pulled out an eyeshadow palette and some brushes waving them about desperately "your already pretty?" he put the brushes down hoping no one else was hearing this conversation "EI PLEASE!" you begged and he sighed pulling you inside and shutting his door loudly.

"Please don't tell anyone pumpkin" he sighed looking at his girlfriend as you bounced around excitedly "baby I will never ever tell anyone if you don't want me to" you promised and he sat you down in front of his mirror brushing the hair out of your face combing through it with his crimson riot hairbrush which you thought was adorable. He shuffled through the palettes in your bag "you got these from the dollar store didn't you" he sat the out on the marble vanity and opened them up to look at the cracked powders making you click your tongue "they weren't like that when I bought them" you said closing the palettes again quickly "it's okay I have plenty" he muttered and pulled a drawer out from under his bed which was filled top to bottom edge to edge with makeup.

"Wow, Ei that's a lot! This must have been a lot of money" you giggled and he pulled out his mint to be and misunderstood palette by colourpop and lipstick by nyx "yeah it does cost a lot but I think it's worth it" he smiled and pulled the foundation you bought out of the bag since it was your shade and he would not be letting you go out looking like a cheap whore who couldn't even match her foundation to her skin tone. "I've never worn makeup before" you admit squishing your cheeks together while he hunted for a colour corrector to go over your purple eye bags "your 17 and you've never worn makeup?" he asked and dabbed the colour corrector on thickly, your eyebags were terrible afterall "you haven't been sleeping well have you pumpkin," he asked blending out the cream under your eyes and pumping out some foundation onto the back of his hand. "Just nightmares Ei" you gave a lopsided grin and he kissed the top of your head "do you want to talk about it," he asked and started putting the foundation on your face gently, he didn't want to hurt you by dabbing too hard.

You shook your head and turned looking into the mirror instead of at him "do you need to talk about something?" he stopped doing your foundation "what do you mean?" you carefully thought of how to phrase your next sentence while he took a drink of his water "are you gay?" you grimaced when he spat his water out getting it all over you and the vanity. he chuckled "no pumpkin I'm definitely not gay" he wiped the vanity down with an old T-shirt "are you trans? If you are I'll support you one hundred per cent of the way" you put your hand on top of his reassuring him even though he didn't need the reassurance "I'm not trans either (y/n) I just do drag" he showed you a little book from his shelf and you flicked through it it was filled with pictures of him in drag and flyers and tickets from all of his shows. It did bring him immense joy knowing that if he was trans you wouldn't break up with him (sorry straight ppl) and that you had no issue if he was gay other than you not being a guy which would have been an issue.

"You look so pretty in this one" you gushed pointing to the picture of him next to a microphone and a laughing crowd and he laughed nervously remembering that night did not go brilliantly, well no it did, but that night he got caught by Mr Aizawa for sneaking out, BUT he got permission to go do his thing instead of having to sneak out "how many people know?" you asked while he primed your eyelids with a different blender "you and Mr Aizawa," he said sadly, sure he was upset that his friends didn't know but he didn't WANT them to know, that's why he lied and told them he didn't have Instagram but he was more than happy now that you knew and he no longer had to hide his passion from the person he loved most in this world "Mr Aizawa?" you giggled imagining the shocked face of your teacher when your boyfriend got home in a full face of makeup "comes to every one of my shows" he grinned and picked up a small pointy brush. "Well I better get to know Mr Aizawa a bit more huh"

He dusted the brush in a dark green and asked you to shut your eyes "so how come I wasn't aware my boyfriend is a drag queen" you asked while the handsome boy packed your crease with dark green and he sighed heavily concentrating on the powder falling onto your cheeks "I just didn't know how you would react" he said brushing the green flecks from your face "I will always accept you Ei don't you forget that" you grabbed the hand he wasn't using and squeezed it tightly while he stamped the rest of the colour in and winged the end and started buffing it out.

"I don't understand why you wanted me to do your makeup though," he said picking up a clean brush and smothering it in a pastel green dusting it lightly on the edge of the crease he had made to blend it out and went back over the dark green, "I told you I wanted you to make me pretty" you reminded him, maybe he forgot what you said when you came to his door and shoved the bag in his face "your already gorgeous (y/n) you don't need makeup," he said kissing the top of your head again while pouring some concealer onto his hand "aw Ei thank you" you smiled at him... maybe, you didn't know you still had your eyes closed "I don't really know why I wanted you to actually i just thought it would be fun" you shrugged and raised your eyebrows for him when you felt him go in with the concealer covering part of your eyelid and the outward flick and more green flecks fluttered down to your face making you scrunch up your nose "wait I'm going to sneeze" you warned him and turned away letting out an adorable kitten sneeze making him laugh "I love you more and more each day" he praised making your face turn red underneath the foundation.

He brushed on a shimmery white into the corners of your eyelid making them sparkle "(y/n) you realise that once the lipstick is on it means no kisses" he smirked and watched as your face dropped and you struggled to keep your eyes closed "YOU NEVER SAID NO KISSES!" you yelled and smacked your hand over your mouth before someone could come and check out the couples quarrel a few rooms over "what if you put your makeup on too then nothing is technically getting messed up?" you offered hoping that you could convince him. You would not be living this day without kisses it was illegal for you to go a day without kisses "what if someone see's me?" he asked picking up a limey green on his brush and moving the hair that had fallen in front of your face. "Then we say I dared you and that I bought all the makeup and followed a tutorial," you said bringing up a youtube video that looked similar-ish to the look he was doing on you "it couldn't hurt," he said and put on the lime green in the middle of your lid blending it into the white.

"I'm really proud of you Ei," you said and your lips turned upward while he applied a lighter version of the eyeshadow he used on your crease to the outer part of your eyelid following the flick upwards and blending it into the shimmery lime "why?" he pulled back to look at his work so far and smiled softly at how pretty you looked, you always looked pretty but this was your first time ever wearing makeup and he was doing it for you, something about the love he put into the makeup made you shine with beauty... and the light on the vanity made your eyeshadow sparkle. "Because you followed your passion even if you weren't sure what others would think. And that makes you the manliest guy alive" you complimented and he looked over at his poster of a crimson riot like it would somehow come to life and agree with your words "that means more than you could ever know pumpkin" you opened the eye he wasn't working on and saw him looking at his poster "plus your only 17 and you're famous as a Hero and a drag queen"

He went in with a white eyeliner cutting the crease with the pointy stick trying not to harm your eye "I hate these things" he said and grumbled something about how stupid and fiddly they are then slammed the liner on the vanity neatening up the lines a bit "wow we're almost done the first eye" he said applying the eyeshadows he used on your eyelid to your lower lashline and blended them out making them look soft and feathery and finally applied the shiny white to the corner of your eye. He picked out a tiny plastic container of tiny tiny diamonds and a tube of eyelash glue and gently pressed the diamonds onto the top of your cut crease. He used the same lash glue and put on the long eyelashes then moved on to fill in your brow.

Time skip brought to you by Autoglass repair Autoglass replace

He finished the second eye and grabbed a large fluffy brush and contoured your face bringing the warmth back into you. He grabbed a rosy blush and dusted it on and finished grabbed a smaller brush brightening your face with a greeny-blue highlighter making you glow in the white light of the vanity. "We're almost done," he said letting you know you could look forward to opening your eyes again. "But then you have to do yours" you reminded him and he hummed "it takes a quarter of this time to do it to myself" he teased and popped open a lipstick asking you to part your lips "why you gonna kiss me?" you chuckled and he leaned in close kissing you with his soft lips "obviously" and he put the lipstick on you adding some green rhinestones to seal the deal.

"Okay (y/n) open your eyes" he instructed and stood up letting you take in your face while he hunted through his wardrobe throwing stuff onto his bed "holy All Might" you leaned in close to the mirror admiring the gorgeous artwork on your face "I didn't know I could look so good in green" you mumbled and beamed at the reflection in front of you "you look gorgeous," he said coming up behind you and kissing your neck "but we aren't done yet" he dangled a green dress in front of you "so you get the rest of you ready while I get myself ready okay?" he said sitting himself down at the vanity and you jumped up and down enthusiastically grabbing the dress and pleaser heels he placed down for you and moving the wig out of your face.

About an hour later you were both fully ready

"meet my photographer," he said bringing you to the back of the dorms where Mr Aizawa was standing lazily checking his phone "MR AIZAWA IS YOUR PHOTOGRAPHER? How does he let you get away with those photo's" you whispered the last part asking yourself more than him and he shrugged "cmon after this we're going to a show" he smiled and pulled you over with him in front of the camera "Kiri can we do this like all the time?" you asked while your teacher photographer set up the camera "of course pumpkin". This would be the best photo in his book yet.

A/n: I wanted to make kiri a drag queen so I did

#my hero academia #bnha #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #boku no hero academia #wattpad #mha #boku no hero fanfic #kirishima eijirou x reader #eijiro kirishima x reader #kirishima x reader #eijirou kirishima #kirishima fluff #bnha kirishima #mha kirishima #kirishima eijirou

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12tardis · 4 years

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Feel The Pull Of You (Newt Scamander x Reader)

Warnings: none (cabbage if you’re James Acaster)

Requested: Yes @imapartofwaytoomanyfandoms24 asked for ‘a soulmates AU where the reader loves magical creatures and they can only see colour when they touch their soulmate and she runs into him looking for her demiguise. She’s in shock and so is Newt and then she sees her demiguise runs up to it and grabs it and walks back to him and they both stare at each other’ - thank you honey! I hope you like it- I’ve had a couple soulmate ideas kicking around my head for a bit but I hadn’t considered the colour one so thank you!

Summary: You’ve seen in only shades of grey your entire life knowing that meant you had a soulmate out there somewhere. Your demiguise has been acting up lately and leads you on a wild goose chase through the streets of London where you literally fall into the arms of a handsome stranger.

A/N: I had to stop here or else I was just gonna keep writing for lord knows how long because IMAGINE what a trip it would be to see all the creatures with your whole new colour palette.

Words: 1,925

Title song: The Pull Of You- The National - just rewatched the IAETF film last night and balled my eyes out. What was it you always said? We’re connected by a thread. If we’re ever far apart I’ll still feel the pull of you.

Taglist: @moonkissk7 @just-an-outstanding-auror

It had been exactly 3 months since Newt had finally released his book ‘Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them’ and exactly 3 weeks since he’d received the most unexpected letter in the mail from a complete stranger.

There had been plenty of children and a few keen creature lovers that had approached him at his book signings. They were always eager to hear more about his adventures and his case and he’d received a few fan-mail letters, again mostly from children drawing their favourite creatures. He loved those ones especially because he hoped it meant he might have inspired another generation of children to follow in his footsteps.

But there was one letter Newt hadn’t put down since he’d received it 3 weeks ago. He kept it in his pocket and often found himself re-reading it over and over again. There was just something about the elegant scrawl that had completely captivated him from the moment he opened it.

And here he was again, standing beside a cafe in the middle of a bustling street in London, pulling the well worn letter from his pocket and tracing his fingertips along the lettering. He had had every intention of writing back to the stranger but a mishap involving a hungry Graphorn had meant he’d lost the envelope with the sender return address much to his dismay.

‘Dear Mr. Scamander,

I am writing to thank you for your incredible book and the remarkable work you have done in magical creature preservation. I must admit I found myself quite moved by your passion. I am an aspiring Magizoologist myself and I can assure you there is still an entire world of magnificent creatures out there to discover!

I wonder if perhaps you were looking for an assistant to help you with your creatures? I’m sure, a capable set of hands could be of great service to you with your ever expanding case and I am confident I could be of help.

Perhaps we could meet for tea some time and I can show you some of my dearest creatures?

I eagerly await your response.

Yours respectfully, Y/N L/N ‘

As he stood on the street corner reading the letter for what must have been the hundredth time he truly mourned the fact that he had no way to contact the sender because there was just something about it that pulled at his heart strings like he’d never felt before. It almost felt like a puzzle. One that he desperately needed to solve.

The letter had kept him up most nights, wondering about things that would never usually cross his mind. He wondered what the sender looked like? And more peculiarly he wondered what the colour of her eyes were. Or perhaps the colour of her hair?

To most people these questions would be normal to ponder and that was because most people had some idea or reference for colour. But not Newt. For Newt, these questions were completely nonsensical because he only saw in shades of grey.

His colour blindness had never bothered him before because he knew it meant he was one of the lucky ones that had a soulmate. A twin flame that he was destined to be with. He was generally content, and patient biding the time because he knew one day he would meet his other half. But ever since he’d received that letter he had found himself feeling restless and frustrated, walking the length of the city and mourning the entire spectrum of colour he was missing out on.

It bothered him now to realise that he had no idea what colour the letter even was. What colour was the ink you’d used? Logically he knew it was black ink on a presumably neutral toned paper but what did that even look like?

He was so preoccupied in his musings that he barely registered the sensation of his case rattling in his hold as one of his creatures was unsettled because he was suddenly stood face to face with a Demiguise. A Demiguise that certainly wasn’t his Dougal.

“Bunsen! BUNSEN! Oh my stars Bunsen I swear if you don’t get back here right now you’ll be eating cabbage for the rest of the week. CABBAGE!”

You were madly dashing through the London crowds in pursuit of your rogue Demiguise, completely uncaring of the bewildered looks you were receiving from the other locals.

Bunsen had been acting out of sorts for several weeks now, pacing back and forth and frequently leading you on wild chases much like the one you were on now. This time though he really wasn’t relenting and you were just thankful no one else noticed the creature hurtling past them.

Your stomach dropped however when you saw him stop and stand on his hind legs to face a man in a long coat. The man had his back to you but you were certain from his body language that he was very much aware of the rare creature that was now stood in front of him with glowing eyes.

“MERLIN NO!”, you panicked dashing towards the man.

“Sir, please don’t panic! He’s harmless I promise! He can’t hurt you, just stay calm!” you shouted at him as you approached, lunging for the Demiguise that dodged you, of course, sending you careening forward into the very arms of the man you were shouting at.

You gasped, blinking furiously when your vision transformed instantly while your heart seemed to swell to double its size in your chest. You stared down at the ground in wonder, taking in the way the shades of grey slowly bled into all these colours and shades you’d never seen before.

Newt grasped you in his arms with a loud ringing in his ears as he tightened his hold on you instinctively. He gaped back at you, so completely enraptured with the sight of you that he barely noticed the new spectrum of colour he could now see.

That was until you were suddenly moving out of his hold and rushing away from him. His knees nearly buckled as he watched your retreating figure, his brain now vaguely taking in the colours around him. He was still standing frozen to the sidewalk as he slowly came to digest what had just happened.

He had literally just run into his soulmate. Who was chasing a Demiguise. You tripped and he caught you and then you ran away from him just as quickly, and his heart was surely about to shatter beyond repair but then oh-

You were walking back towards him, with the Demiguise perched on your hip and he felt his heart in his throat as he took you in.

You had nearly fallen again when Bunsen had suddenly stopped in his tracks, seemingly content with being in your arms again as you scooped him up. You noticed the way his eyes flashed and he was looking over your shoulder and you remembered that yes, you had just cannon balled into your soulmate.

The person you’d been dreaming of your entire life. “Why you clever little…”, you breathed out, petting Bunsen shakily while your heart slammed in your chest. You closed your eyes and sucked in a deep breath before you turned back around to face the man..

You two stood in front of one another for what felt like an hour, just staring at each other in complete awe. You took in the colour of his hair, fighting back the unexpected impulse you felt to comb your fingers through it and then you looked back into his eyes. And you knew then what your favourite colour in the world was.

Newt was entirely unprepared for the sudden urge he had to just touch. He’d never really understood the need for affection, instead shying away from it but as he gazed back at you his hands seemed to burn at his sides. He longed to run his thumb along your bottom lip or graze his hand down the curve of your shoulder to your waist.

Bunsen had apparently had enough of the silent staring competition going on between you two though because he let out a huff followed by low grumble.

This startled Newt from his stupor and he quickly held his hand out to you “I do apologise for my rudeness, I’m-“

“Newt Scamander”, you breathed out quickly, your eyes bright and a small smile playing on your lips. Newt’s eyebrows flew up in response.

“You know my n-name?”, he stuttered, stunned that a beauty such as yourself would know who he was. And when you took his hand in your own he felt the most overwhelming sense of peace rush over him.

You squeezed his hand in your own, nodding slowly as you smiled wider at him “yes, I wrote to you. A few weeks ago. My name is-“

“Y/N L/N!”, he cut you off this time, his eyes wide as he set his case down beside him carefully, still gripping your hand in his own as he used the other to rummage through his coat pocket. “You wrote this!” he exclaimed, holding the obviously worn letter up for you to inspect.

It was your turn to look at him in astonishment as you nodded again, furrowing your eyebrows.

“I...something about this letter just felt...like home,” Newt explained, shyly threading his fingers with yours as he pocketed the letter once again.

When you stared back at him silently, glancing down at your joined hands he continued.

“I apologise, I really wanted to write you back but one of the Graphorn’s ate the envelope”, he turned to look at Bunsen then, nodding at him.

“I bet you two would get along”, he murmured and Bunsen made a noise of interest, reaching an arm out towards Newt signalling that he wanted to be held.

You looked down at Bunsen in surprise because he had never allowed another person to touch him before but your surprise quickly washed away as you watched Newt take him into his arms, greeting him with the kindest smile you’d ever seen that you couldn’t help but swoon. Of course he would like Newt. He had, after all, been trying to make this meeting happen for weeks now.

“Oh!”, you were broken out of your ogling when a passerby just barely missed knocking Newt’s case over that was still set on the ground beside him. You didn’t hesitate to pluck the case up, holding it securely against your chest and the very sight alone had Newt feeling dizzy with adoration. Not only were you breathtaking but you cared for creatures too.

“So um…” he cleared his throat nervously, looking back at you with hopeful eyes “I know I’m a bit late, but I wonder if you are still interested in that cup of tea?”

You smiled back at him widely, stepping close to him until you were nearly chest to chest and he sucked in a breath of surprise when you lay your hand over his where it was resting on Bunsen “yes, but only if you promise to show me around your case afterwards.”

Newt laughed softly, nodding as he shifted Bunsen to be perched on his hip with one arm so he could thread his fingers with yours again “well I suppose it would help if my assistant knew her way around the enclosures”, he murmured, looking over at you as you fell into step beside him, following him through the bustling streets hand in hand. -MORE WRITINGS HERE-

#newt scamander x reader #newt scamander #newton artemis fido scamander #newt scamander x y/n #newt scamander x you #newt x reader #soulmate au #fantastic beasts and where to find them

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extremelyblackandwhite · 3 years

Text

heiress - 5

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

a/n: more parallels between wanda and reader plus hayward being a bitch to reader. also pierce did not die during the winter soldier events in this universe. at this point this is called wanda and y/n collectively grieving over her how shitty their lives are.

previous chapter

The young woman held a small gun in her left hand, shooting the target at least 10 metres away from her with a mechanical precision, switching it to her right hand and achieving the same type of perfection and precision not even senior agents had. Yet, there she was, one of the newest SWORD recruits. Many people had opposed for her to join SWORD straight after escaping from HYDRA and the Red Room; however, Tyler Hayward had forced for her to become a new recruit. “Having Alexander Pierce’s daughter in our team will be an asset” he said and it somehow convinced all of SWORDs panel to take her in. She had nowhere to go after all, the Red Room will be after her in no time and she had no way to defend herself alone and so SWORD was her only option. An option she thrived under, being much more advanced than any junior recruit yet it was a far cry from what she wanted. She didn’t want to be an agent but that’s what she was, what she had been trained to do.

The trainer slowly blinked walking up to her and giving her a congratulatory pat on the shoulder which everyone could sense was filled of jealousy. She was thrown to the back of the line with someone else who also inspired jealousy in most recruits. Monica Rambeau, daughter of Maria Rambeau, the current SWORD director. They had never spoken too much other than orientation day where they introduced each other by their agent number.

- That was the coolest thing I’ve seen today. - she hide a childish smile as the next recruit started his training. - I’m Monica.

- Y/N. - she smiled and shook her hand. - Is it always like this?

- Most of time yeah. The trainers are dicks about it when you’re better than them.

- Men. - Y/N rolled her eyes, getting an understanding nod from Monica.

- Excuse me? - Tyler Hayward entered the trainee room, always dressed in a polished suit as if that would be of any worth in a fighting situation. - I’m sorry for disturbing but I need Ms. Y/N Pierce to accompany me.

Y/N Pierce. She always hated that name, even more than her code name. The mere thought that she had that last name, the name of one of the leaders of SHIELD was almost like a cruel curse on her. Everyone seemed to think of him as this all around saint yet she knew better; after all, if he had no reservations about submitting his daughter as a project and asset then he would have no reservation in hurting anyone else. SWORD had done their best to keep her existence a secret, not really allowing the connection to pass through but she knew he was looking for her and if he wasn’t the Red Room and HYDRA definitely were.

She shared a confused look with Monica before stepping towards Hayward who led her away from the room and into the hall. He didn’t stop to explain to her why she had been summoned, instead he just kept on walking and she took the lead to follow him, entering a blackened window filled hall. They stopped in front of a window which gave way into an autopsy scene. Y/N was used to seeing death, some would say she was born surrounding it; however, she was not prepared to see what was being shown to her. It was almost as if she were sleeping, her mother. Laid across the metal table with various doctors surrounding her, the HYDRA symbol branded onto her foot. She looked over to the side, hand over her mouth as she felt sick just to see it.

- Our intelligence believes HYDRA is trying to send a message and we don’t believe they won’t stop anytime soon.

- Was it fast? Did she suffer?

- Gunshot to the head. Quite merciful, really.

- Why are you showing me this?

- Well, HYDRA experimented on you but there is the possibility your “enhancements” might be genetic.

- What is that supposed to mean? Why did you really brought me here, Hayward?

- We need the next of kin’s permission to perform an autopsy and it seems that would be you, following your mother’s will.

- No. - she stepped back. - You’re not gonna tear my mother apart for a stupid hypothesis. No. You don’t have my permission

- We’re being kind enough to hide you from your father for no specific reason. You either accept it or we’ll be forced to hand you to SHIELD.

The night air was crisp and sharp as he sat on the swing next to hers. She hadn’t changed much other than her hair which was much longer but her face was still unblemished by the tragic unkindness of the world. After all it had been about 5 years since he last saw her and he hated the fact he had forgotten her. Somewhere, deep within himself he knew her mark was still there; he could still hear her voice in his dreams but he always chucked it to his mind crumbling under the pressure it had been under for so many years. Nevertheless, he had heard her voice plenty times, specially in Bucharest. It had haunted him from nights and nights on end; “Promise?” “Yes”, turns out it wasn’t someone he had killed but someone he had forgotten. Her of all people. It had come back all to him after that woman gave him the file. Her name alone, her lips telling him her name. He remember telling himself he would not forget him as they prepared him to go back in the blender and he did. He forgot about her but looking at her everything came back to him; the good and the bad. But the most of it was he remembered loving her, he still did, a feeling that had been dormant for a long while and suddenly awoke in him. Of course Bucky did not expect her to love him back, he didn’t blame her either. She was a good kid, too good even.

- Uhm ... are you enjoying it here? - she motioned her hands abstractly. - In the hex, I mean.

- It’s better than in hideouts with Sam and Sharon. - he chuckled dryly, looking up at the transparent yet red tinted dome. - I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. Sam is great, despite everything and Sharon ... Sharon has helped me so much, I owe her that.

- Oh ... - her heart dropped to her stomach as an ugly feeling took over her. Sure, Wanda would say it’s jealousy but she refused to admit it.

- What about you? I never really asked what you did after ... you know, IT.

- You can say the name. - she smiled at him yet it was voidless of any emotion, as if she were used to people tip toeing around the subject which they always did. - I became a junior recruit for SWORD until the blip then ... I was gone for a while but it didn’t hurt. It was almost like I was finally at peace and then I woke up and Hayward was director. He sent me and Monica to investigate the hex Wanda created, mostly to keep his own project a bay. Then we all ran off, got classified as fugitives. The rest is really not important.

- I don’t really think I need to tell you what I’ve been up to.

- You don’t ... most of it it’s my fault, anyway. - she got up from the swing once she noticed a purple light a few miles away from the limits of the hex. The back of her eyes started growing instinctively white. Bucky got up as he recognised her fighting stance, a hand safely placed upon her shoulder. - Go grab Wanda.

- Y/N ...

- Go grab her, now. - she stood there watching the purple light almost call out for her. Bucky chose to do what she said, the white mist involving around her fingers as she stepped towards the hex, fingers barely touching the wall.

Bucky rushed inside the building, hoping to reach Wanda before Y/N could do anything irrational. However, before he could find the newly named Scarlet Witch, she found him with one of her twins behind her waist. Her eyes were glowing red, almost similar to those Y/N had except those eyes looked desperate, worried even.

- Where is she? - she asked him with an ice like directness. - Where is she, Barnes?

- Outside. She told me to come get you.

Wanda rushed past him with a speed that he had never seen before and he only followed after her. The two stepped outside the building, towards the swing tree where Bucky had left Y/N, except, she wasn’t there anymore. No, he couldn’t lose her. Not again. Vision came after the two followed by Yelena and Monica who had been awakened by the twins; however, Wanda did not need their help. She approached the hex, just missing the purple glow as it entered the woods. Bucky tried to step up but Vision pushed him back.

- Y/N? - Wanda broke through the hex, shutting Bucky out as well as Vision. It was night time, dark and cold surrounded by the woods of the place they had chosen to hide from the world. Breaking dawn was so far away and even the tallest individual would’ve melted into the dark night. - Y/N!

- Are we not going to help them? - Bucky questioned back inside the hex, probably the most awake apart from the synthezoid and the former Red Room graduate.

- It’s a witch thing. - Yelena smirked before springing into action. - We should activate the hex’s protective system in case something happens.

- What about them? - Bucky once again interrupted, not receiving particularly kind looks from Yelena.

- They’ll be fine, Mr. Barnes.

Y/N on the other hand walked further into the confused and dark woods, holding her small trusted silver revolver which reflected the moon light onto its surface; yet most of the light came from behind her coloured eyes. She did not know exactly why they did that, it was almost as if they light up whenever she felt threatened. Whatever it was, it was there inside of her. She, of course, knew it was Agatha lingering around; however, she never got dangerously close to the hex. It was an unspoken truth between the witch and Wanda Maximoff yet there she was.

- God, dear, I thought I’d have to break into the hex to get to you. - Agatha showed up from the darkness, dressed in her typical black and purple palette as if she were royalty. - So, how are you deary? Still playing Queen Elsa? Is that fun for you?

- You’re trespassing.

- Come on, is that how you thank me for giving you Bucky Barnes on a platter? What else do you need to thank me? A love spell?

- Go away, Agatha. What do you want?

- I am trying to help you, just like I helped Wanda. I mean how old are you, sweetheart? Old enough for HYDRA and SWORD to realise you can do much more than just magic tricks. Making a whole room objects disappear? Now that, that was impressive. If I knew you were gonna do that, I would’ve brought Barnes into your life much much sooner. - she crossed her arms. - I think you and I are very similar. Much more similar than Maximoff to be completely honest. Where were the avengers when your father handed you over to a terrorist organisation? Constantly overlooked, underestimated, seen as nothing but your father’s daughter. I understand, Y/N and I can help you if you let me help you.

- I ... - she faltered her response, slightly lowering down her gun. - You can really help me?

- I know more about magic than everyone else, Y/N. I can train you, I can help you more than SWORD or Wanda Maximoff will ever help. I can even give you what you want the most. Barnes, a regular family, everything but a SHIELD recruit. A regular citizen and all I want is for you to give me my regular family.

- I can’t help you, Agatha.

- I don’t mean to cause any harm, Y/N. I’m not the villain, I just want my husband back and only you can give that to me. That’s all I want. It’s a small price to pay for your happiness. I can even take it away, your powers, I can take them away and then you will have what you want. Pretty sure Barnes still has some swimmers and if he doesn’t surely Wanda can get you some kids, she sure did well with getting herself some.

- Y/N! - Wanda’s voice broke through the two woman’s conversation. Agatha smirked, purple eyes replacing her regular blue ones. - Y/N!

- I think you need to make a choice, dear.

taglist: @lookiamtrying

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shhhlikeme · 4 years

Text

“Losty Aone” / “Losty Mountain Man🏔” Series:

Outtake Collection #15:

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A/N: last one! I hope you guys liked it and I’d love to hear your feedback! Thank you so much for reading and being on this Losty journey with meeee🥳💕💕💕

TABLE OF CONTENTS

———————————

A Pair Of Broken-Hearted Losties Have To Pair Up For An Assignment 📚🤩

Over the next few weeks, at the advice of Kenji and Kogane, Aone avoided you at all costs

Every morning he sat there thinking about you and trying to figure out what he did wrong.... ultimately feeling worse and worse

It was incredibly difficult seeing you around school, but if it is one thing Takanobu knew how to do it was make himself scarce when it came to you, so at least you’d be fine. After all, it took you two years to even notice his existence

Aone decide to have lunch in the library now because you’d never go there by your own free will.

He spent that time going over his own homework, or helping his two friends with theirs, or just staring out the window doing another type of math calculation: the heart wrenching attempt to calculate how in the world he convinced himself that you would settle for him when you could get any guy you want

He should be glad you even gave him a chance for a year.

To be honest, Every day was a struggle for Aone to get out of bed—even weeks later—but he did it because he kind of told himself in some weird pathetically twisted way that you’d find him more attractive if he did; if you saw him as someone who could withstand hurricaines.

At the advice of his friends, when Takanobu would see you in the halls, he’d just look away or walk faster…. Knowing that his heart wouldn’t kill him as much if he only moved rapidly

The only time that was truly difficult was in the class mountain man had with you— the same class you first noticed him in when he defended you against the class snitch—the class where you sat only two seats to his right.

It took everything in mountain man not to stare at you for the entire hour like he’d grown so accustomed to doing, remembering how when you two were dating you’d wink at him when you caught him staring, making him blush profusely

It literally took all of his concentration to stare ahead at the teacher or down, and even then he still slipped up and caught himself enamoured with your side profile and new found quietness, when before you were always chatty… then again whether you could probably speak alien and Aone would still be in love with you.

When he failed to not be captivated by you at least once a day and glanced over at you, Aone kept falling in love over and over again.

His best friend would kill him if he admitted it out loud but Aone couldn’t bring himself not to like you anymore simply because you didn’t like him.

Besides, He’s been in this position before and it never wavered his emotions. Sure, he’s hurt—he is really hurt, but the heart knows what it wants.

You didn’t lose your beauty or perfection, simply because you didn’t want him: Go figure.

His heart just couldn’t take the whirl of opposite emotions. Love and Hurt. Why did you have to be his dream girl? Why couldn’t he think about anything else but you? Why was his biggest dream in life to be your husband, still? This was torture. Pure torture.

Before, Aone used to be sad about it, but when he caught himself staring at you in class and felt like his chest was empty of a heart because it had been shattered in pieces again, he had never been happier that graduation was right around the corner.

At least in University, you wouldn’t be in his classes

Anyway, as usual, Kenji would meet Aone outside of that class everyday, and Kenji couldn’t help notice the look on Aone’s face whenever he left that class. It looked eerily and alarmingly similar to Aone’s face when he was standing in the snow that night.

Fuck.

Things got worse when the teacher announced assigned partners for this small project he wanted the students to work on as a major final project.

As luck would have it, Aone was randomly paired up with his heart & heartbreak: you.

“Hi,” You said quietly as everyone including you swapped seats to sit next to their partners.

Aone just nodded, not trusting his voice....

This was like some awful deja vu.

he’s absolutely screwed

His heart beat 5x faster than normal when you came closer, like always. Mountain man had to let his mind work overtime so that he didn’t just beg you to give him another chance

He felt like the green school tie he was wearing was getting tighter by the second, and this was all so hard for him

You surprisingly took the reins on this small school project, knowing from Kusa that your ex boyfriend wasn’t speaking much lately, which Aone decided he liked you more for.

He was falling harder for the girl who broke his heart. How morbid is this?

The deprecating thoughts persisted.

Yep, he is screwed for life.

When you got answers wrong, Aone would point to it and shake his head kindly, offering his hand for the pencil and then starting to write the correct answers

When he looked down at the paper, you took this opportunity to take in the man’s gorgeous features…

his dark, broody demeanour on such a light palette of colours: the white of his hair, the beige of his skin, the light pink on his cheeks….You wanted to sigh. He really does look like Santa & Mrs. Clause’s son that models for GQ.

Geez, Aone Takanobu is so...................sexy. 🤤

It had been so long that you’d been near him.

All of your nights consisted of thoughts of him. But your days consisted of actively avoiding him, hoping that he let another girl in then hoping that he didn’t

You cried basically every night.......and the only nights you didn’t was when you fell asleep on Group FaceTime with Katana and Kusa.

You missed Aone with ever fibre of your being. But you were doing this for him. He would never break up with you, so you had to.

And while you had to fight back tears at school every time you saw him speaking to another girl because you didn’t know their relationship, all of that only made this moment to admire him when he wasn’t looking more crucial: you had to take advantage of this project and this temporary closeness that you’re basically addicted to.

Because it may just be your last.

Instead of just staring at the background of your iPhone where there displayed a picture of Aone and Perdu, you took this chance to check out this incredibly attractive mountain man in the flesh:

Your eyes roamed unabashedly from the tip of his scribbling pencil over his long, beefy arms: obviously muscular even through his Date Teko jacket....

up to his broad shoulders that were perfect to hold on to during intimate time.....

your eyes cascaded over his neck where his Adam Apple bobbed and made you whisper ‘all man’ in your mind......

up to his pink lips that were pressed together in a straight line.

Those LIPS. YOU’D ALMOST FORGOTTEN. 😩😩😩

you couldn’t help but recall the force and passion behind those heavenly babies on your lips when he was gripping your hips and forcing you down on him in a successful attempt to cause friction on his erection......

Even though you were dead-set on putting Aone first like he deserved, just like he did for you all those years when he crushed on you— sticking to your guns about this breakup so that he could find someone better was absolutely the brutal. Oh god, did you miss him. And oh god, did you want him to grab you and fuck you silly just li—

“Y/N?”

You were pulled out of your daze momentarily when those lips you were staring at called your name in question.

Aone had finished writing down the answers at about the same time your eyes reached his neck on their little journey, and he’d been staring at you staring at him ever since. He realized you didn’t notice he caught you staring, because you probably would have looked away. But like the whipped man he is, even now, he purposely waited to stop you because he liked being stared at by you. It made his cheeks flare up like a cherry and his heart soar. Not to mention when you were staring at his arms, neck and neck you looked one way—but when your eyes stopped on his lips for longer than a minute something in your expression changed—and you were staring at him like:

Which evidently made all the blood from poor Mountain Man’s cherry cheeks waterfall down to his groin. Maybe he had been misreading your look as one that communicated sex, but it was pretty hard to decipher now when his penis was screaming at him for months worth of negligence. Aone’s poor mind went straight to the gutter, wanting to take you and have you sit on his face for hours on end. Holy, shit, you can’t look at him like that! Takanobu had to stop you then, only because his urge to consensually bend you over this desk was getting way too strong way too quickly. He had to remind himself that you broke up with him because you don’t want that with him. So, he reluctantly called your name.

The man had no clue that you would have wanted nothing more than to satisfy him right here and now.

“What? Me!? Ummm yes?!”

“The bell just sounded. We did not get too much done today, but we can continue in class tomorrow. And perhaps meet up outside of class, if you are comfortable with that. We have all week to start.”

All week...? You pretended to ask. So I can continue checking you out until my panties are wet tomorrow too....? Oh God.

It took you a second for your thoughts to catch up to what Aone was actually was saying to you and not Dream-Aone. You forced an excited nod. “Oh. Okay, um.... tomorrow., then. Um, bye.” You smiled at him sheepishly, scurrying out of the class behind all the other students.

***

Five minutes later, Aone remained seated there at his desk. The class was empty. It’s not like he could get up yet with how hard he was currently, anyway, so he was waiting until his member calmed down. When Futakuchi poked his head in the classroom because he was curious as to where his friend was, Aone groaned and threw his head back, covering his agonized face with both hands.

“Uh oh. It’s Y/N, isn’t it? 😒” Futakuchi guessed while walking in slowly. Kenji did not need confirmation, but Aone nodded anyway.

“What did she do this time? Talking to other guys in front of you?”

Aone groaned and shook his head again, still covering his face with his hands.

“……Oi, is she being a bitch? Giving you the cold shoulder or something?”

Another groan and shake of the head from mountain man.

“Wait. Don’t tell me she asked out another—“

“No.”

“Then what is it! Why do you look like you’re about to sink down to the damn floor? What is Y/N doing?!”

Aone spoke through his hands, his smooth voice muffled by his wrists. “She’s being beautiful. I have absolutely no self control around her, Kenji-san, she is the most attractive person I.have.ever.seen. And now we’re partners for the final project. I am so in love with her, and on top of that she—How can I ever get over a girl that looks like that?”

Kenji rolled his eyes, annoyed, but a realist through-and-through.He figured right away the Y/N must have unintentionally turned Aone on in class. That would explain why he’s still sitting down with red cheeks.

Kenji sighed. “Yeah, I do wish Y/N wasn’t so hot. But I mean, you just have to do the project and then we are off to College together and she probably won’t get in with her grades—“

Speaking negatively about the love of Takanobu’s life was a sure fire way to get his erection to soften. Aone should thank his friend. But instead, he groaned once again, shaking his head. “Cheerleading... scholarship.”

Futakuchi deadpanned.

“.......Shit.”

A nod.

“When you look at her for the rest of this project, just imagine it’s like a dead squirrel or something. I can spam your phone with dead squirrel pics all class if that will help.”

Aone sighed, finally removing his hands from his face and sitting upright. His response surprised Kenji, making it known to both of them that this breakup was going to be harder no pun intended than either of them thought. Aone still couldn’t get the visual of you checking him out seductively out of his head, and it was not only making him hard again, it was screwing with his hormones and emotions and just everything, FUCK.

“Send the photos, Futakuchi-san. Please. I have a feeling I will need all the dead squirrels I can get.”

After weeks of feeling depressed, Aone was guiltily able get himself off that night. ✨

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Mountain Man: The Sequel (Post-Nut Clarity) ✨💫

After mountain man arched his back, his entire body trembling due to force of yet another orgasm that had been waiting to be released for months, he discovered something.

He doesn’t need Futakuchi and Kogane’s plane when you are simultaneously Aone’s destroyer and healer.

You are like no other girl he will ever meet in his life. This Aone knows for sure.

This is clear due to the fact that now that Aone is working alongside you for a project, he has been able to crawl out of depression the more time he spends with you, simply because your mere presence made him feel better. THAT says something.

Aone wants to be anything to you but a stranger. It’s the only way his heart stops aching and if all you can give him is a friendship after this project is over, then that was what he would willingly accept

Aone realized that even though he struck out the first time and failed to make you choose a life with him, he had nothing to lose if he tried again.

He just had to prove to you that he’s deserving….somehow.

For years, Aone left his love life and his desire to be with you up to chance..... hopelessly pining after you and being way too shy to ever make a move until you did.

But, tonight’s post-nut clarity changed everything. That old Aone who waited for you to make the first move was long gone. Now replaced by an Aone that goes for what he wants!

And what he wants is you.

***

The next morning, the K_nji’s were woken up by the amazing smell of breakfast wafting into their guest rooms at Aone’s house.

They both drug their feet into the kitchen, Kenji tired - Kogane excited…. and they were flabbergasted by the scene they were greeted with. Their jaws dropped and their eyes widened like:

Standing there in his apron, whisking around the kitchen..... was their best friend—the same broken hearted best friend who rarely spoke the past few weeks, who rarely smiled, and who disappeared every chance he got to sulk in his room alone— that same best friend was making breakfast......and whistling.

They’d never heard this giant whistle in their entire lives.

“Aone-san…? Kenji whispered , rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, wondering if he was still dreaming. Upon hearing his name Aone had just noticed their presence, looking up and smiling only with his eyes.

“Good morning! I made you both breakfast!” Mountain man greeted in a higher tone—still monotone— but the loudest they’d ever heard him speak with.

Futakuchi stuttered. “Aone-san.... wha—why—?”

Takanobu grunted and shrugged.

“I thought I’d do something to commemorate the first day I...... well, the first day I put a plan I have in place.”

“What plan, mom?!” Kogane asked, no longer shocked and digging into the rice. “This tastes amazing…”

Aone chuckled lowly, which is also so out of character for him! Futakuchi’s heart dropped because not only was this the fucking Twilight Zone, for the first time in his life the Justin Bieber look-alike is not able to read his best friend. Futakuchi tried hard, and came up with nothing.

“What is this plan?” The brunette asked apprehensively.

Aone took a second to think about his wording before giving both friends a determined look. The blonde visibly stood straighter, speaking with conviction:

“My plan to take charge of my love life for the first time in my life. In other words, grab a plate and allow me tell you both about my plan to.... to get the girl of my dreams back.”

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Outtake #16: CLICK HERE!

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raviliuz · 3 years

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"Here comes the sun" Blaise Zabini x Theodore Nott

Muggle, retro au

@lifesucksandiwanttobeamarauder I finally translate that fanfiction, I hope you like it 🥺

The dark-skinned boy has tried to sit still from three hours already. It is incredibly hard for him, because of his amazing hyperactivity. In all honesty, sitting here as a model doesn't count to his dreams or favourites activities but he couldn't deny to Theodore's asks.

Just because of that — his bloody weakness for the older boy — he must stick up there and pose to Theodore's new painting. Blaise perfectly knows that person on that work of art won't be even similar to him. But it will be beautiful, perfect as everything that has been made by gifted hands of Theodore Nott.

There's music, playing quietly at the background, played on a gramophone, restored by Blaise himself. He gifted it to his friend as a birthday present two years ago on an incredibly warm and short night, 22th of June.

He has so many memories with that slight, passionate boy.

"Theo," he says suddenly, breaking the silence. He sounds like a dissatisfied kitten and when he doesn't notice any reaction, he repeats meowing "Theo, I'm bored."

The other boy finally pays his attention to Blaise, not his reflection on painting, which is created on a canvas (too small in Theo's opinion).

"Blaise, you really can't stand it for a while more?" Theodore asks and there is a nuance of desperation and melancholy in his voice, "I want to end it."

And Blaise has already known, he loses again. He won't be able to deny his friend the pleasure that results from looking at the painting — finished, after hours of working.

"I'll stand it, Theo" he sighs and in his mind adds 'always for you'. At this moment all he can do is begging and praying that Theodore is not able to read minds, just like some characters in their favourites comics.

"Nah, Blaise" slight boy says suddenly and leaves his paint palette and set of brushes on the cupboard, promising himself that he will wash it carefully within a few minutes when paints won't be already dry "I know you don't want to."

"It's not like that" Zabini starts to explaining himself chaotically because he doesn't want hurt Theodore's feelings, "I love watching your painting and you while you're painting. And I love that you have a passion and you're so talented. I just... It's May Day and we are sitting in your room..."

"It's alright, Blaise" Theodore interrupts his with the most beautiful, in Zabini's opinion, smile — that carefree, happy and only a little faraway one.

"We should do something and bring Hope with us to take many photos and place them in our albums with dumb yet cute captions" Theo proposes with a light laugh.

The younger, but taller, better built and more mature, of boys, stands up and brushes off invisible pollen from clothes. He reaches his hand to Theodore to help him stand up.

"Wanna go?" he proposes and even if Theo doesn't know where he agrees without a single question.

It doesn't matter where they go, it will be awesome as always if Blaise is with him.

He catches Hope and puts it on his neck. Theo loves his polaroid camera with whole his heart, even if it isn't the newest and all the better photos were made by Blaise.

Blaise is still holding Theodore's hand in his (definitely larger and rougher), like he doesn't care about rubs of paints in many different colours on Theo's hand and now, also on Blaise's one.

He pulls his friends outside and enters the garage like he is in his own house. Theodore knows what he means without words and grabs his bicycle with a big smile on his slim face.

Meanwhile, Blaise grabs his skateboard, which, only in the form of rebellion against sentiment, he did not give a name. But he perfectly knows that by his skateboard, people could see a different side of his personality, which he doesn't show often — bloody sentimentalist who loves very clichéd books or movies and constantly remembering beautiful moments, and it doesn't matter if that happens a year ago or two hours ago.

The skateboard has its best years far behind its. The picture which was printed on the underside of 'his love' (although, of course, incomparable to that of the boy just standing next to him) has almost completely faded and crumbled, peeling paint seems not so good, to put it mildly, but in Blaise's opinion, it adds the special character and charm to his skateboard. Every scratch and every cooked screw tell a story and Blaise thinks it definitely better than new skateboard — probably glamorous but without its own character.

Blaise isn't similar to Theo, not it that topic. He has never had boxes filled with various craps, which refer to many different events and happenings. He doesn't have special notebooks with tickets, a diary or millions of notes with quick sketches, created under the influence of a sudden flow of wen. He doesn't keep every notes and message on scraps of papers, which have been hand down on lessons, in hope that the teacher wouldn't see that. In first, even having a photo album was strange for Blaise. It shows, that he likes looking back at past and that feeling, which sometimes accompanies you right before falling asleep, when you remind yourself one of those pleasant situations from childhood, isn't foreign for him. It was all he was trying to defend himself against, but only for a time.

For a time when on his way stood that quite frail and nerdy boy. Theodore showed him being sentiment isn't something bad just as singing songs out loud in public places. As compensation, Blaise showed him the magic of comics and all these beautiful, charming in their area, which he discovered while taking a walk daily. Blaise pulled Theodore out of his room and dragged him away from the easel to lead him everywhere he can.

"To our place?" Theodore asks and gets on his a little too small, colourful bike. The seat creaks quietly under his mass but none of the boys pays any attention to this.

"Exactly, now ride, my carriage" Blaise screams and catches up on Theo's seat so the movement of the bicycle can drag him.

"Pff, flax" Nott giggles and Blaise find it as the most sonorous, melodic sound in the whole world.

They ride slowly through all that musty hole, also known as Torquay, or — their home. The road even if it's really old and it remembers when they as children drew chalk on a street, is not in a bad condition. A worse fate befell the road signs — some of them are smeared with sprays, and some are knocked off the ground, due to a car accident or a group of probably drunk but still strong young people.

There are many houses near the road. They are quite poor and definitely not as modern as houses in the capital. At some time, before he started taking daily walks, Blaise dreamed about living in London. Or rather, to be able to tell others that he lives in London. It's another thing which distinguishes him from Theodore — the older boy sees beauty everywhere, in everything and in everybody. Blaise envied him with this skill, for him the world has been boring or just ugly and people have been cruel sometimes.

The sun is warming their backs when they slowly ride on a well-known path. They pass Mrs Shermik, so out of courtesy from four meters away from her, they shout to the old woman joyful 'Good morning'. As they turn into a lane, which is fortunately dry as it hasn't rained much lately, Theo starts humming under his breath.

"Hey Jude, don't make it bad" he looks at his friend (nearly losing control of his bike) and Blaise quickly understands what he means.

Blaise joins to his singing and adds next line:

"Take a sad song and make it better".

Someday Blaise would have worried. He was worried about what people would think, he was afraid someone would hear them. But not now. Now he doesn't care when the words flowing from the depths of memory, and when the song ends, he starts another, definitely his favourite — "Blackbird". Neither of the boys has a perfect voice, singing is definitely not their hidden talent, but that doesn't matter. And that is wonderful, isn't it?

Here Blaise can no longer skate further — the ground is too uneven, even ploughed by the tires of wheelbarrows and carts of people from the neighbouring village. The dark-skinned man rejects Theo's offer to simply get his bike's rack and chooses to run next to the boy. The basketball team and two trainings a week are finally coming in handy — thanks to this, his condition is really good and he doesn't gasp like an old man with asthma after twenty meters run. Theodore, noticing how well his best friend is doing, accelerates, forcing Zabini to run, which he accepts with a groan. Nevertheless, he catches up with the older boy and promises himself that as soon as they get there, he will get his revenge.

After five more minutes, they are a destination of their travel. The place they describe as "their", although they are well aware that they are not the only people who come here, is exactly as they remember it — beautiful.

It was Blaise who discovered them during one of his walks over three years ago. He perfectly remembered how it happened.

That day he was trying to find a rather fast but shallow brook, which he remembered from his childhood. Before Draco's move to London, they told Draco's parents that they were going to the field, but in fact, they went to the brook and walked back and forth on a tree that had fallen over the river. He remembered just as well how Draco's mother, on her way to the store, noticed they were not on the field, prompting a search. When their parents found them by the brook — wet but in unusually good moods, they were already too worried to be upset with them.

After searching for more than an hour (during which he definitely fulfilled the daily, maybe even a week, step norm, but he didn't care) he found a place from his memories, although it was difficult to recognize its. The brook had dried up completely, leaving only a faint riverbed and tree roots washed out of the ground, but the place has definitely retained its charm.

Theo drops the bicycle, leaning it hurriedly against one of the roots, and lays down on the grass, staring at the almost cloudless sky, hidden only by tree branches. Blaise, slightly out of breath, rests his hands on his knees and stays like this for a moment. When his breath normalized he comes closer to Theodore. There is a snap and a Polaroid camera gracefully named Hope spits out a photo in which the image hasn't shown up yet. Theo enthusiastically grabs a small piece of paper and starts waving it so fast that it is about to reach orbital velocity. After a while, the picture clears up the silhouette of a younger boy, who was about to lie down next to his friend. Blaise looks at the photo and asks smiling, even though he already knows the answer:

"For your or my album?"

"Of course mine," Theodore replies quickly, grinning happily, "Why do you need your own photos? They will be much more useful to me."

The dark-skinned boy can't help but messes Theodore's hair in one move of his hand. However, Theo is not annoyed by that, he reacts to it like a cat, moving closer and silently demanding further caresses, which the younger one does willingly.

They are sitting like that (or rather, Blaise is sitting and Theo's half lying on him) till the sunset. There is a flower crown on Blaise's head, made by Theo with field flowers collected by him. And of course, Theodore took a photo of Blaise in his work of art.

It's getting dark. Butterflies, which were flying around them flew away and gave way for beautiful moths and fireflies. Theodore stands up energetically and starts jumping on protruding trees' roots, chasing insects to take a photo of them.

"Theo, please be careful," Blaise says attentively but the only response is 'don't worry' screamed by Nott.

Blaise unwillingly starts remembering his childhood. Times, when he wasn't Theodore's friend and all that connected them, was the same neighbourhood, chalk and short-term relationship of their parents. Then they found that as a stupid and loathsome. Nowadays, at their seventeen's, just as weird. But they weren't friends. After all, Blaise was friends with Draco and the teacher in primary had repeated that it's better to have fewer friends but true friends. So Blaise fraternizes with Malfoy till he moved to London.

It's not that now Blaise finds it as a mistake or holds any grudge with Draco. But nowadays he thinks that it is not good to withdraw from others.

When Draco had left and moved to London, Blaise had thought they now he stayed alone but on that moment, Theodore slowly crept into his life. Nott sat next to Blaise on school basketball pitch and started reminding happy moments from times when Draco lived in Torquey.

And later he showed his painting to Blaise and dark-skinned boy couldn't believe someone his age could do something that beautiful. A week later Blaise sat down with him in the canteen and sometime later also on most of the lessons so he could distract him from learning to read their favourites comics.

Now, Blaise would imagine his life without his always laughing and only sometimes a little faraway friend.

His thoughts are interrupted by a quiet scream.

"Ouch!"

Blaise, worried, stands up imminently and run through Theo. He is curled up in a fetal position between roods of the biggest tree. Zabini hugs him tightly and Theodore accepts that willing, cuddling to his chest while holds back tears.

"Ah, Theo" Blaise whispers, still cuddling the boy in his arms, "I asked you to be careful."

"I'm sorry, Blaise" he answers, sniffing.

"Don't apologize to me, silly" Blaise couldn't stop himself from nuzzling his friend's cheek.

"But you are worrying now and you warned me that I might get hurt..."

"Shhhh" Zabini interrupts him and places his fingers on Theo's mouth to shushes him "I always worrying about you, no matter if you get hurt or not" he admits truthfully and after a few seconds of silence adds "Please, stop crying.

He stops hugging Theodore, although he wants to do it forever. Blaise squats in from of him and gently grabs his friend's head. He wipes away tears, flowing slowly on fairy (although all that time, spends under the sunlight) skin.

He wants to not cry because of sadness or pain, wants him not to have reasons for a cry.

He wants him to be always happy, even if that meant that Blaise wouldn't be on his side.

Wants, wants, wants.

But the world isn't always beautiful, even if Theodore thinks so. Sometimes the world is cruel, ugly or just totally boring. The same about people who live in it.

Do it's really important to find your refuge. A place, a person or a hobby, which will be like an escape from all evils in that world.

Blaise thought that his escape is comics. Reading them has dragged him into the world of superheroes where he could use his imagination and think about meaningless things for hours such as what superpower would he choose (flying, of course). Besides that, the world in comics is just easier. It isn't hard to differentiate who is good and who's bad. Good people fight with bad people, that's all. The Justice League cares about Gotham and saves innocent people from Joker, Deadshot or Darkseid. In the real world, it would be an unsolvable matter with billions different threads and complications so even the best detectives wouldn't be able to decide who is guilty.

Comics world is just easier.

Lately, Blaise has got to understand that the whole beauty in that world is locked in its confusions, problems and ambiguities. Because the world is beautiful, even if sometimes it's cruel or ugly.

And the one who made him understand that is his only real refuge — Theodore Nott.

He is the one who makes reading comics even better.

He is the one with who Blaise could do anything and it would be incredibly good.

He is the one with who Blaise wants to talk about 'good old times' and makes new memories to remember.

He is the one with who Blaise wants to stay forever.

Theodore Nott is the one who Blaise bestow that hot and unique feeling which, no matter what since says, comes from the heart.

And that feeling, now makes him do something, he has been dreaming about for that long. Blaise gently and unsurely grabs the head of the person, who since a year isn't only a friend for him. He delicately raises Theo's head a bit upper to look him straight into his eyes. Their lips touch slowly and gently. Both of them don't feel so confident with what's going on but they will worry about that later. Now, Blaise doesn't have the time and desire to thinks about the consequences. Not now, when he feels the structure of soft lips of his love.

When the dark-skinned boy doesn't notice any objections from the older boy, he let himself do a light, carefully move with his lips. He doesn't want to scared Theodore, knowing how delicate and artsy person he is. He would ever forgive himself hurting Theo.

If he only knew how long Theodore was waiting for it and how much he enjoys that kiss, even if Blaise's lips are rough and chapped.

Blaise gently moves away and hangs his head down, looking at too long grass. He's afraid of seeing Theodore's reaction for what he has done because he's afraid of rejection and ending that important relationship.

However, Theo, likes he doesn't see his friend insecure, giggles lightly and grabs the younger boy cheeks, turning his face to him.

"Oh, finally. How long might I wait?" Theo says with a delightful smile.

"Really. You... Me..." Blaise mutters like he doesn't know what he wants to say.

"Yeah, silly" Theo chucked and hits an end of Blaise's nose with his "You're definitely my favourite person in that universe. And every other, alternative universe too."

Blaise, still can't believe what's happening, hugs his boy and kisses him quickly. The kiss is one hundred per cent cute and totally not sultry. Because feelings as sultry and desire don't fit Theodore, even in an alternative universe where Bruce Wayne become the Devastator instead of Batman. It just does not fit.

"Yeah, and you're my fav person."

They sit in silence for a while, but it's nothing wrong. The silent can be calming and comfortable, it can say more than every word in the world.

The air is getting cooler and owls' chirps become more ominous, so finally, Blaise breaks the silence and says:

"Theo" mentioned boy turns to him and glance at Zabini, "Is your knee still hurting?"

"It's not that bad" Theo shrugs but Blaise quickly understands that it's not good either, "But can you ride the bicycle? I'll drive on its carrier."

"But what with my skateboard?" Blaise asks inconvenience.

"I'll carry it, please" Zabini's only answer is a sigh but not the irritated one. He doesn't know what would Theo had to do to irritate him.

"Alright, but please, be careful."

Blaise raises Theo's bicycle from the ground and helps the boy to climb up to the luggage carrier and then he carefully sits on its seat. Theodore holds Blaise's skateboard (which he has named against his will — Faith) with one hand and the other one is embraced around Blaise's stomach so Theo can stably stay on the carrier. Well, maybe not only because of that.

"To me?" Blaise proposes and slowly leaves their place.

Theodore automatically nods but then he understands that Blaise can't see him so he quickly says 'yes' some times.

Boys are leaving, slowly and without unnecessary haste, but that moment is different than every previous one, they have spent here. Now, they're leaving their place not as just friends.

From Theodore Nott's album:

"4th of May, 1984 —

My favourite day to remember"

#harry potter #slytherin quidditch #bxb #slytherin quidditch team #blaise x theo #blaise zabini #theodore nott #zabini x nott #mrs zabini #muggle au #non magic au #retro #retro au #slytherin #slytherins #slytherin quartet #draco malfoy

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belladoesmakeup · 3 years

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Hey guys,

When you become a rose-gold member on www.charlottetilbury.com (it’s literally free) you get exclusive offers and one of their recent offers was if you spent over £49.00 you got a lipstick worth £25.00. Now I love promotions like this when it’s worth your while. So I looked at my wish list and decided to pick two items. One item was a mini makeup remover I really wanted to try out before buying a full size which was £10.00 and then I also picked up a eyeshadow palette I’ve had my eye on for a while now.

I finally picked up the Charlotte Darling eyeshadow palette, £49.00 now I know what you’re thinking bloody hell that’s pricey. Well if you think about it a quad palette from Tilbury is £42 so for a extra £4.00 I got 2 additional shades. I know it doesn’t justify anything but it makes me feel better. This palette is gorgeous and offers two warm toned looks. The first 3 eyeshadow’s from the left side of the palette are the shades for the “day look” as you can see it’s very fair and shimmery. The next 3 eyeshadow’s are the “night look” which you can see are a more deeper warm toned look more berry themed I think personally.This palette is gorgeous and honestly something I would use all the time. While I do use the 2 specific looks this palette lays out for you I also tend to mix the looks together and just grab whatever shade I feel like using. A palette like this is a great starting point because yes you only get 6 shadows but in all honesty you get 6 shades you really can do a lot with.

Now as you can see I spent over the needed £49.00 so I got a free Matt Revolution lipstick worth £25.00. In this promotion I got the shade Mrs Kisses which is a beautiful rose coral toned red which is the perfect shade if you like a red lipstick but you aren’t a fan of the bold reds or a neon red it’s the perfect tone. This whole collection of Love Filter Matte Revolution lipsticks are all inspired by the power love (as Charlotte say’s on her website). The shades in this collection are designed to suit a multitude or skin tones so there’s something for everyone. What I love most about this collection is the lipstick design itself, the lipstick product itself is embossed with little lips! How bloody cute is that. I love the shade colour because it isn’t something I’d normally pick and yet it’s a colour I now love.

So there we have it my little Charlotte Tilbury haul, it’s honestly worth becoming a rose-gold member just to keep an eye out for random promotions each month because as you can see you do save money. I’m so happy I finally picked up this eyeshadow palette because like I said I really love the colour story and do think it’s better value for money then some palettes I’ve bought previously (though obviously still adore).

If you want to see any future Charlotte Tilbury blog posts let me know what you want to see and I’ll make it happen.

Lots of love

Bella x x

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dreamsofthescreen · 3 years

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The Dust Of Bridgerton - Review

Based on Julia Quinn’s obsessively Jane Austen inspired nine novels, we as an audience step into a world laced with gossip, love and historically inaccurate details.

Regé-Jean Page & Phoebe Dynevor in 'Bridgerton'

Having audiences and the online world jump from their seats at the news of yet another romantically colourful period drama, Netflix’s 2020 Christmas release set off on a high note. However, it may not have been enough satisfaction to cover all viewers, as the overzealous series that is Bridgerton can be perceived as a cute attempt to outline high-society London, rather than a sweepingly romantic love story. From overplayed themes, to the shallow one-liners, saturated costumes and quite frankly, some controversy in a modern series, we’re not so sure that this was a 2020 release. Granted, some of the artistic involvements are wonderfully intoxicating, creating interest and having it for sure be a visual spectacle. Though, this whirlwind historical insight by creator Shonda Rhimes seemed to be a whitewashed teen-drama, instead of a maturely topical period piece.

Based on Julia Quinn’s obsessively Jane Austen inspired nine novels, we as an audience step into a world laced with gossip, love and historically inaccurate details. Set in 1813 Regency London, Rhimes’ series is a period drama surrounding the esteemed Bridgerton family, and particularly Daphne Bridgerton, the eldest daughter of the four sisters. All surrounding the pursuit and importance of finding a suitor eligible for marriage at that time, Bridgerton is the glossed over, trivial version of Pride and Prejudice. Yet there certainly still is wit, charm, enchantment and change, grabbing our attention. It is these themes that we are known to love, rather making Rhimes’ series all the more predictable and repetitive. There is beauty and moments to remember throughout, yet all in all I felt as though I was watching a weak showcase of what a mock Baz Luhrmann and Wes Anderson collaboration that exerted a blinding pastel macaron palette might look like. There isn’t really any distinguishable, first class authentic directing or writing style. We have all seen it before, which is what makes it so popular. Bridgerton’s successful reception does not seem due to the fact that it is a beautifully great show, but because of the fact that it is something written knowing that audiences will not tire of yet another stylish, skinny period drama. We have seen many renditions of Pride and Prejudice, Emma and Madame Bovary over the years, making Rhimes’ series simply another period drama that rather latches onto others for inspiration, rather than being a strong standalone piece.

Where Downton Abbey meets Gossip Girl, some might say that this show bursts with fervour, yet it can be deemed as shallow in it’s character development and attempted strong plots. Some might say that Bridgerton has riveting grandeur, but it was films decades ago that originated it so, as we have already marvelled at the magic of the many renditions of Pride & Prejudice. And sure, there is drama, eroticism, as well as there are whispers in the streets filling the scenes of Rhimes’ take on a royal drama. But to have to create excitement by only overdoing sex and violence scenes like this doesn’t speak to highly of it’s quality. And it can be that this is what period dramas are about, yet Bridgerton’s over-embellishment of sex, drugs and rock & roll sometimes paints it out to be taking the easy way out; a cheaply written series by just landing on what is easily stimulating to audiences. As though you’re to a stand up only to have the comedian joke about porn and a night out he might’ve gone on, simply to quickly catch the audiences attention. It works, but does not hold as much substance as a joke with true wit, or in this case, a script with deep quality. The character arc’s end quickly, as does the mystery surrounding who ‘Gossip Girl’-like character Mrs Whistledown is. There isn’t much glory in the drama as there wasn’t enough of it. Yet, the focus on female empowerment and rather the female gaze was something that gets points for originality and undertaking a modern stance during the Regency time period.

Amongst the budding romance, glory and messy undertone of the series, the art department does deserve a pay raise, as there is no doubt that the costumes, set and overall work on Bridgerton make it all the more alluring. In saying alluring, it doesn’t necessary translate as the costumes being convincing. Yet the production and costume design is something that seems to define the esteemed privilege of the characters, as they dress in flashy tulle, silks and organza. Luxurious gardens, ostentatious palaces and velvet furnishings tie into the greatly pleasing aesthetics, as we are given the scoop on the Bridgerton’s drama’s, we also are taken in by their lavish lifestyles. Delicacy after delicacy in the ballroom scenes, as champagne towers flow & rich candles burn. Even in the overplayed sex scenes, velvet carpets and luxurious chaises sit on the backdrop. The combination of bountiful costumes and turns this show into an elevated treat for the eyes.

However beautiful, it can still be said that the costume & set design was just overpowering & seemed like a parody of other period drama’s aristocracy. The sickening yellow-green or floral orange gowns blinded, rather than astounded, as none of the costumes seemed entirely accurate. There are countless YouTube videos on the lack of historical accuracy in the dress. But not only are they inaccurate, they’re just unattractive. The completely saturated colours, ridiculous feathers and overall lack of style is another element that makes Bridgerton just look like a parody of that time period. Yet, cleverly enough, this may have been the point. By creating a romance-drama tale, we step into a fantasy world anyhow, so to change up the costuming can be seen as a good thing, as it does allow us to escape into it. We understand the era, but there is a twist in the aesthetic. If the intention was to accurately represent the time period, then it was far from a success. But if it was to create their own take on it, then it was an interesting move.

As much as Bridgerton may have looked beautiful, there were certainly bouts of controversy throughout, showing that it may not have been making the progressive impact that it may have hoped to. Rhimes’ twisted world is created & attempts to include actors from different backgrounds, but it rather plays out as just performative diversity. The only main characters of colour are a light-skinned bi-racial man & a snooty looking Asian queen. Obviously and unfortunately historically inaccurate to 1813 London whatsoever, this pursuit to be progressive was admirable, but rather stuck out like a sore thumb & did not blend naturally or seem at all organic. This is because it more so seemed that characters of colour were rather sprinkled in the background with no definitive lines or moments, making even the inclusion of them quite ironic, as it was not fully inclusive, for a show that may have claimed to be diverse. In saying this, of course, along with the blinding costumes and sometimes plastic-like set design, Rhimes’ had created a fantasy version of 1813 London, yet still was unable to do it justice. Colour and race were apart of Bridgerton, but only comfortably and what is suited to the media.

As stringed instrumentals playing Taylor Swift’s ‘Wildest Dreams’ or Billie Eilish’s ‘Bad Guy’, a make a modern take on classical music is made, this change much like the series itself. Whether or not Bridgerton was entirely convincing, it surely still was entertaining amongst all it’s inaccuracy or shallow writing. As to why it was renewed for three further seasons with Netflix, we are not sure. The colour and pompous nature of the series does grab our eye, but cannot hold it for too long, as we may see ourselves comparing it to any other period drama we previously loved. Shonda Rhimes’ ‘Bridgerton’ succeeded in becoming a household name on Netflix, thoroughly captivating and charming, it is a good teen-based and glossed over period piece. When it comes down to good filmmaking with Rhimes’ adaptation of the sprawling novels that Julia Quinn wrote, it really wasn’t all there.

Stars Out of Five: 2.5/5

visit at: dreamsofthescreen.com

#bridgerton #shonda rhimes #phoebe dynevor #costume design #netflix #writersoftumblr #writer #blogger #cinemaisnotdead

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hideawayintheimaginationworld · 4 years

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I am Machine: Chapter 2

Alec had opened his eyes, feeling heavy and groggy like he just woke up, wait.... Did he actually fall asleep without meaning to? He had tried so many times to fall asleep but he never succeed, he actually felt like he woke up and he didn’t remember hearing the animatronics wake up.

He pulled the blanket apart and he blinked then his face was hit by light.

No. No. No.

He was in a different room, someone moved him.

He was stupid, he didn't think he'd fall asleep, he didn't think anyone would find him.

He was in a bigger room, one he hadn’t seen before. He was in a sofa chair, he saw a desk with some various items, like a pile of paper, a cup with pencils, pens, markers, some books stacked in a neat pile, a stand was there and Alec noticed a piece of paper was on the stand, he narrowed his eyes when he saw black scribble on the paper, trying to make it out. Wait. Those were musical notes.

It was a piece of music, with the notes in a order, some unintelligible words below each written note, maybe they were lyrics?

Alec didn’t understand music, it didn’t really interest him, his sister on the other hand seem to have an interest in learning a musical instrument, but she couldn’t decide which one. Alec would rather listen to music then create it.

There was a black wardrobe that seemed strange, firstly, it had a padlock around the handles, Alec immediately tried to reason why the wardrobe would be locked, but he could only think of bad reasons.

He saw a bookshelf with three separate shelves, one had books, other had small items that seem to allude to whoever was in this room, they liked to create/play music. The items included reeds that would be used for instruments like clarinet, and saxophone, some guitar picks in a small clear container with a post it note attached that said: “STOP STEALING THESE UNLESS YOU WANT TO REPLACE THEM BONNIE, SIGNED L.A”. The bottom shelf had things like spare blankets, three pillows all stacked in a neat tower and a small black box with a pad lock on it.

Alec had seen on the opposite side of the room was a big bed, it had a messy pile of blankets and pillows all within a pink colour palette. Must be a woman, Alec thought, the note that was L.A was most likely the intitals of their name.

He had barely moved, he heard something, he looked and saw a door, the handle was turning, he immediately threw the blanket over his head and hid himself, he was unsure who or what it was.

He heard the door open and close, he slightly moved and peeked out enough to see a little, he saw a man, a strange man, with white and pink hair, he was wearing a white long sleeved shirt, he was slightly chubby, not in a very overweight way, more looking cuddly honestly. He had black pants and his shoes were clicking as he walked like he had metal on the soles of them.

He walked to the bookshelf, he kneeled down and picked up the small black box, he had pulled a key out from his pocket, and jammed it into the padlock, opening it, Alec was surprised to see he just pulled out a pair of what looked like silk white gloves. He put the box down and walked over to the locked wardrobe and also unlocked that, his white gloves in one hand, he reached in with his other and pulled out a black case.

He walked over to the bed and opened the case, Alec watched him pull on his gloves, then he reached into the case. Alec wondered what he'd pull out, a human skull? A weapon?

Nope. He lifted it up and Alec saw a violin.

God Alec had become so much more jumpy now. He hated it.

The man positioned the violin and gently lifted up the bow, he then slightly adjusted his position then began to play a soft, gentle tune, with the notes he played slow and in a small loop of what Alec heard was five notes all together, played equally and in a rhythm.

After a few minutes of the playing, Alec and the man heard a knock, Alec knew he heard it also because he stopped his playing.

He put his violin back in his case, walked to the door and opened it.

“Oh Lefty! Good you got my message! Come in... I wasn’t doing anything important, just playing violin....”

Lefty had stepped in, the man move at such an angle that Alec saw his face completely and recognised who he was.

His title was the Music Man, but he was certain that wasn't his real name. He was the only human performer, Alec had seen him in the pizzeria on the day of Hazel's birthday, he was just walking about entertaining kids, with a spring in his step, a smile and.... He was definitely carrying around a ukulele on the day. One of his big draw ins was the fact he would play a different instrument everyday.

In fact he was almost certain he saw him giving him a strange look at some point before Hazel decided to go into the Wind Tunnel. Like he knew what he did and was frowning disappointingly at him. He could be imagining it, he did know he had seen him wandering around, he probably made eye contact with Alec at one point and that was it, nothing strange about a man who worked at a pizzeria.

“I know you don’t like leaving the pizzeria but before I left I found something you may be interested in.”

“Music Man” walked closer to Alec, who covered the little gap that let him see and stayed still.

“It's a Lonely Freddy...” Alec felt like he was lifted off the ground.

Stay still, his mind said. So he did just that, when his blanket was pulled away he saw Lefty and the “Music Man” close up.

“I remember how you hated these, but this one doesn’t seem to work!” Alec saw Lefty's face turned to visible disgust, he bared his teeth which Alec swore looked like real sharp bear teeth.

“Now, now Lefty, don't look like that. Like I said... It doesn’t seem to work...” He turned Alec in his hands looking at him, he grabbed his hand and forcibly pulled back before releasing it, “I thought we got rid of all these but it seems like one had slipped through for quite some time! It's missing the hat... But other than that, it seems.... Okay? Maybe dusty, I did sneeze when I picked it up. Didn’t we get rid of all these things four months ago? Hey, Lefty what was wrong with them again? Making some weird noise screeching noise that disturbed people? And they kept being broken by kids rough housing?”

Lefty didn’t say anything, but he nodded.

“I swear the concept was silly, it was a cure for an “unwanted child” which should never be the case! Every child should feel happy! I wanted to ask Jeremy if we could bring in a Plushtrap animatronic to play games with the lonely kids, I know we have one in the backroom and it's just gathering dust... It's not doing anything! I figure we should use it!”

Lefty nodded then made a gesture that seemed to say “up to you”.

“Not in a talkative mood? Or are you worried Mini Freddy be listening in?” “Music Man” turned Alec back and he was face to face with them again.

Lefty rose up one hand and shook it side to side which was “kind of” gesture, he also was softly nodding.

“These things were creepy in my opinion.... Always bugging kids... A robot wanting to be your best friend? I mean, zero offense to you or any other animatronic but.. Something about the Lonely Freddy always made me scared to leave my three nephews under the age of 10 alone with it....” His face filled with dread for a second, “And you agreed with me unlike the other staff! I swear to god, I was born with strange hair and the other staff treat like a nuisance! I only am the Music Man part time... You know me Lefty! My passion is in music! I love Freddy's but I don’t want to keep working there when no one will even bother to address me as Lewis Anthony, heck, they could even call me Anthony and I'd be happy with that!! I don’t mind little kids calling me Music Man or even Maestro, but the staff can’t be bothered calling me by my real name, can you see why it's infuriating me?”

Lefty made some hand gestures, he seemed to communicate in sign language.

“That's why I'm telling you first I'm going to be turning in my one month notice tomorrow, so they'll have plenty of time to look for a replacement if they want. I can’t tolerant this blatant bullying, yes I understand, they don’t like me because I'm mixed, they don’t like me because they've figured I'm polysexual, they don’t like me because I speak different languages in public, they don’t like some music styles I play.... I've worked there for eight years, I shouldn’t be treated this way.... If he still alive, he wouldn’t let this slide...... Anyway back to this... What would you do about it?”

Lefty reached and grabbed Alec by his neck.

“Oh you’ll take it back? Good... I was worried if I left it in the recliner chair that Mr Hippo was going to sit on it.... Maybe it's an okay one? I know some weren’t making that strange sound.”

Lefty turned around and opened the door.

“Oh you're leaving. I lost track of time, you have to be back on stage before the night watch arrives. Have a good night,” Lewis smiled at him.

Here, have chapter 2, I'll eventually make a cover for this story and write some relevant info about it.

Previous Chapter (First Chapter) | Next Chapter

#five nights at freddy's #fazbear frights fetch #fazbear frights #FNAF Lefty #FNAF Alec #FNAF Music Man #Lewis Anthony- Human Music Man #I am Machine Story

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kinderes · 5 years

Text

fun little disasters

Summary: Virgil has his first sleepover with Roman and Remus. Not everything goes exactly to plan, but somehow he likes it better that way.

Word count: 2265

Author’s note: part 2 of the boys will be bugs au (that’s what I’m calling it now, based on the song by cavetown! (it doesn’t make sense yet but it will later c;))! it’s mostly fluff, and honestly I didn’t expect to write this much about the sleepover, nor did I expect most of this to be them just trying makeup for the first time but that’s just what the boys wanted to do!!

“What?!” Roman and Remus both cried at once.

“Uh…” Virgil wasn’t quite sure how to respond, given that all he’d said was the street he lived on.

“That’s only a few blocks away from us!” Roman said excitedly. “This is perfect! Now we can visit each other whenever we want! Go on epic quests together! Or we could-” He cut himself off with an excited gasp. “Or we could have a sleepover!”

Virgil blinked. “Yeah, I guess we could that. I’ve never had one before, so that’d be cool.”

Roman made an affronted noise, as if it was a personal offense that anyone had never experienced a sleepover before.

“Oh you poor thing, so cruelly deprived!” Remus cradled Virgil’s face, who snorted and pushed him off.

“Well now we have to do it! I suppose, seeing as you’ve never had a sleepover before it would be easier if we did this at our house. Okay!” Roman had a determined look in his eye. “You leave everything to us, Virgil. Well, me mostly. Remus has very… unique ideas about sleepovers.”

“We could sneak out at midnight and start a cult!” Remus suggested.

Roman groaned. “See? Remus, we’re not allowed to do that, remember? Not again. Anyway,” he looked back at Virgil, “just ask your parents if it’s okay and bring stuff for overnight!”

Virgil shrugged in agreement. “Yeah, sure.” He was secretly glad they didn’t suggest a sleepover at his house. Partly because he wasn’t really sure how they worked, and partly because his dad often worked late and probably wouldn’t want to leave his brother Remy in charge of three kids.

A few days and a couple of phone calls later, and Virgil was nervously knocking on the door of what he hoped was Roman and Remus’ house.

“Coming!” A woman’s voice called from inside. The sound of footsteps followed, and a tall, brown haired woman opened the door. She looked down at him and smiled, in a way that reminded Virgil of Roman. “Oh! You must be Virgil!”

Virgil swallowed, suddenly feeling very small. “Y-yeah. Uh… are Roman and Remus here?”

“They should be down in a minute.” The woman, who Virgil assumed was Mrs Duke, leaned her head back through the door. “Boys! Virgil’s here!” she called loudly, before turning back towards Virgil. “Did your dad drop you off?” She looked around, trying to see if Virgil’s dad was behind him.

Virgil shifted on his feet awkwardly and tugged at the straps of his backpack. “N-no, he’s working. I just walked. It’s not far to come.”

Mrs Duke frowned slightly and looked like she wanted to say something, but lucky for Virgil he didn’t have to have whatever conversation was about to follow as there was a thud that came from upstairs, followed by Remus thundering down the stairs. “Roman!” He yelled, grinning at Virgil. “Get your butt down here!”

Mrs Duke laughed, having apparently forgotten what she was going to say before Remus showed up, which Virgil was secretly grateful for. “They’ve been excited all afternoon.” She opened the door wider. “Come on in, Virgil.”

Virgil stepped inside just as Roman joined Remus at the bottom of the stairs. Roman pulled Virgil into a quick hug before grabbing him by the hand.

“You have to come see what I made!” Roman said, dragging him up the stairs with Remus following close behind them.

He led Virgil into the second room on the left, which was Roman and Remus’ bedroom. There was a bunk bed against the far wall - the top bunk was covered in a number of stuffed animals, the largest of which was a sizable stuffed purple dragon. There were also a couple of posters pinned to the wall, most of them Disney related. The bottom bunk, unlike the top bunk, was unmade, and there was only one stuffed animal on the bed, albeit a rather large one - a stuffed octopus that appeared to be missing an eye and only had seven tentacles. Instead of posters, there were scribbled drawings stuck to the wall with tape, most of which Virgil couldn’t make out to be anything in particular.

But that wasn’t what drew Virgil’s attention first. Sitting in the middle of the room, held up by a couple of repurposed chairs, was a massive blanket fort with three sleeping bags laid out inside of it.

Roman stood in front of it proudly. “Tada! It’s pretty spectacular, if I do say so myself! And it only fell down twice!”

“Only one of those was my fault!” Remus said, seemingly just as proud of that fact as Roman was of his blanket fort.

Roman glared at him. “You’d better not kick it down again in the middle of the night!”

“I would never! Not while Virgil’s still here!” Remus’ mischievous grin led Virgil to believe that Remus would most likely destroy it the moment Virgil went home.

Roman groaned, probably having deduced the same thing Virgil had, but didn’t comment on it and instead crawled inside the fort and took a seat on one of the sleeping bags. He looked up at Virgil and patted the sleeping bag next to him. “Come on, let me give you the grand tour!”

There were a few hours of daylight left, so after Roman had showed Virgil the inside of the fort they all headed into the backyard where Roman called dibs on Virgil being his sidekick for the day (a system which even Remus had to honour), and they spent the rest of the afternoon swinging sticks at each other as Roman and Virgil defended an imaginary castle from Remus. They stopped once the sun went down and Mrs Duke called them in for dinner. Afterwards, they all slipped into their pyjamas and settled into the blanket fort, where Roman had made plans for the evening.

“I couldn’t get much, but this should be enough!” Roman said, then lifted up one of the blankets to reveal a few small containers and some brushes.

Virgil peered at it curiously. “What is it?”

Remus’ eyes widened. “Stealing makeup from our own mother? I’m impressed! I’ve clearly taught you well!” He gave Roman a few pats on the head.

Roman swatted Remus’ hand away. “I didn’t steal it! I just, you know, I borrowed it! She won’t even notice it’s gone!”

“Are you sure it’s okay?” Virgil frowned and chewed at one of his nails. “I don’t want us to get in trouble.”

“You worry too much, it’ll be fine!” Roman replied, already opening an eyeshadow palette.

“Yeah!” Remus agreed. “And this is all Roman’s fault anyway, so if she asks we’ll just tell her he took it so only one of us gets in trouble!”

Roman huffed. “Well since you’re so eager to betray me, you can go first!” he declared, before dipping a brush into a purple shade of eyeshadow and leaning towards Remus. “Close your eyes!”

Remus grimaced, but obeyed and shut his eyes tightly. Roman did his best to apply the eyeshadow evenly, but every so often Remus would get impatient and start squirming, causing Roman to hiss “hold still!” before continuing. By the end, Remus had a fairly even layer of purple around his eyes, but Roman was so exhausted from trying to keep Remus from moving that he decided it was someone else’s turn.

Remus examined his face in the small compact mirror Roman had brought with him, and when he decided he was satisfied with what Roman had done he smiled and pulled the makeup brush out of Roman’s hand. “Now I get to do you!”

“Nope, no, you’re not coming anywhere near my face,” Roman shook his head, taking the brush back from Remus and handing it to Virgil. “Virgil’s doing mine!”

“Wait, what?” Virgil looked down at the brush in his hand nervously, then back up to Roman. “You sure you want me to do it?”

“Sure!” Roman gave him an encouraging smile. “Anything you can do would be better than trash boy over there!”

Remus stuck his tongue out at Roman and Roman returned the favour, before sliding the eyeshadow over towards Virgil. Virgil cautiously picked it up, still not sure if this was a good idea, but Roman had already closed his eyes and was waiting for him. He looked down at the palette in front of him, and decided Roman would probably like the shimmering gold colour best. He swiped the makeup brush on his hand a couple of times to try and get rid of any excess purple eyeshadow, before brushing it back and forth over the gold and tentatively began applying it onto Roman’s eyelids. He swept the brush too wide in a couple of places and in trying to correct it, he ended up covering much more of Roman’s eyes than he’d intended to.

Eventually he sighed and gave up. “Sorry if it sucks,” he mumbled, handing the compact mirror to Roman and bracing himself for whatever judgement followed.

Roman snapped the mirror open. “Oh I’m sure it’s not that bad- ooooh!” He gasped as he saw himself in the mirror. “It’s so bold and dramatic!”

“And shiny!” Remus chimed in.

“Yeah!” Roman examined his face in the mirror from multiple angles, watching as the eyeshadow glittered in the dim light. “I love it!”

“Really?” Virgil looked at Roman in surprise. “Oh… well, good.”

“My turn!” Remus snatched up as much makeup as he could before Roman could protest. “Since my dearest brother wouldn’t let me do his, I guess I’ll just have to do yours!” He grins at Virgil.

“You’d better not mess up his face, Remus!” Roman must have seen the worried look on Virgil’s face, because he grinned nervously at him. “Er, I mean don’t worry! If it’s really bad we can just wash it off!”

That definitely didn’t improve Virgil’s confidence, but Remus looked so eager that Virgil reluctantly agreed. “Yeah… yeah, okay.”

Remus almost broke the swatch as he pressed the brush into the blackest eyeshadow he could find. He leaned towards Virgil to begin, but Virgil instinctively flinched as soon as the brush got too close to his face.

Remus sighed and lowered the brush slightly. “Relax V, I’m not gonna hurt you!” He raised the brush towards Virgil’s left eye and Virgil screwed his eyes shut.

When the brush finally met the underneath of his eye, Virgil was surprised how gentle Remus was being. He felt the eyeshadow being put on it gentle circles, switching to his other eye after a while. Virgil thought that meant it was going well, until he felt the brush lift off his skin.

“Oh. Hmm.” Virgil heard Remus say. “Whoopsies.”

Virgil opened one of his eyes and caught a glimpse of Roman and Remus’ nervous faces.

“You ruined it,” Roman said flatly.

“Well I’m not finished yet!” Remus responded defensively. “I just need to- Virgil, close your eyes again! I can fix it!”

Virgil shut his eyes again. “Uh… fix what?”

“Hold on!” Remus didn’t answer his question, instead dotting the brush under his left eye. “...Oh wow,” Remus giggled. “That’s so much worse!”

Virgil heard the sound of the brush being dropped on the ground, then felt a finger press underneath his eye and smudge the eyeshadow outwards.

There was a moment of silence after Remus was finished before he said, “...welp! I ruined it! You can open your eyes now!”

Virgil was almost too afraid to now, but slowly he opened his eyes. Remus handed Virgil the mirror so he could examine the damage. He took a deep breath and opened it. His initial reaction was, yeah, it was pretty bad. Remus hadn’t put any eyeshadow on his upper eyelids at all, so it was all beneath his eyes. Beyond that, it was really dark and heavy, and it was clear that it had been smudged. But the more he looked at it, the more he didn’t mind it.

“It’s… not that bad?” Virgil said, continuing to examine it. “It’s actually kinda cool.”

“Oh? Oh!” Remus looked pleased with himself. “Why thank you!”

Roman scoffed. “‘Not that bad’? He made you look like an emo nightmare!”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “And? What’s wrong with that?”

Roman spluttered. “W-well, I mean… ‘not that bad’ doesn’t mean good! But…” He sighed in resignation. “I guess if you like it, then it’s fine. We’ll have to wash this stuff off before we sleep though, or else it’ll get all over our pillows!”

As it turned out, washing it off was a lot harder than any of them had anticipated. Remus and Virgil both ended up with dark streaks running down their faces, and no matter how hard Roman tried to wash it off the glitter just seemed to stay stuck to him.

“Well, this was a total disaster,” Roman huffed, traces of glitter still evident on his hands and face.

“It was a fun disaster though, which is the best kind!” Remus said. He’d given up wiping off the dark streaks of purple, but he didn’t seem to mind them.

“You’re a fun disaster,” Roman teased, nudging Remus.

Remus placed a hand to his heart and wiped a fake tear from his eye. “Aww Roman, that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me!”

Virgil couldn’t help but smile fondly. “We should, uh... do this again sometime.” He coughed, trying not to sound too sappy. “If you guys want to, that is.”

Roman returned his smile. “Yeah.” He looked down at his hands, still shimmering in the dark. “We really should.”

taglist: @jellopuffs @kai-the-person @fandoms-will-collide (let me know if you wanna be added or removed from the taglist!! c: I can’t promise I’ll keep it going, but I’ll try to for at least the first couple of chapters!)

#my fic #sanders sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #platonic anxietwins #boys will be bugs au #i should probably make a masterpost of stuff once i have a little more?#anyway i don't mind this being mostly fluff #it's nice for them to be happy for now c;

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lazywriter7 · 5 years

Text

shades of happiness

Summary: Part of the journey is the end.

Steve Rogers considers his many possible endings, and chooses one.

Warnings for major character death

It’s always been the shade that caught his eye the quickest.

In a set of pastels, blocky and chalky-soft and colour staining on his fingertips – always the pop of red towards the end that his gaze drifted to, where it lingered. The colour that could change the very way you looked at things – like when sunrise lit the tenements of Brooklyn in rose-gold-cinnabar, gleaming off bicycle pedals that used to look dusty and camouflaging the cracks in sour-cream building walls, clothes left over on the lines at night flapping gently in the wind – like filtering it all through this shade could alter reality itself.

(Reality, that makes one of six–)

Steve had a weakness for it, for red. Any time one of his paintings looked a touch too dull, like the colours had been leached of their potency, like everything was too drab, too still (too dead), his brush strayed towards the red tube of paint. A dab here and a highlight there, and it was like the painting became a new creature – vivid and kinetic, the richness of the hue enhancing the brighter shades of yellow and orange, adding depth into the darkness of browns and blacks. It was always on his palette, he couldn’t imagine picturing a world without…

“Steve.”

He shook with it, the startlement. He blinked his eyes. Peggy smiled at him from across the diner booth, chestnut-hair shining in the light and victory suit as perfectly pressed as when he’d first met her. “You were gone there, for a while.”

“I was.” Steve said, and there was something about that that wasn’t quite right. Spoken too lightly, frivolous and easy. Lacking the import that words like that deserved.

But Peggy seemed to pay that no note and only smiled wider. Steve was braced for the breathstopping, jawbreaking clench of longing the sight brought – the corners of her quirked lips, the dip of her lower lip where the skin always seemed to be chapped and flaking. The carmine slash of her lipstick.

Red.

“Nice place, isn’t it.” Peggy tilted her chin, dark eyes flitting over the light fixtures and checkered décor.

It’s very seventies, Steve wanted to say – the foreignness of the thought prickled at him. It was… it was out of place, in this picture-perfect scene, out of time, because he’d never have known to have the thought if not for pop-culture and watching movies about the seventies in the futu–

So something else escaped his tongue instead. “Sometimes, I’d think about if I was just imagining it too… too sunny. Too bright. What would’ve happened if I’d never gone down in the ice.”

A shining image, through rose-tinted glasses. There was something about that too, which rattled at the shadowy edges of his mind; tinted glasses, tinted glasses and dark eyes–

(Dark eyes, bare for the taking. “Liar.”)

“Was the end of war. Couldn’t have been all sunshine and roses.” And for all of his heartache, he’d gotten to skip that part, hadn’t he? Hadn’t had to live with the aftermath. Bombed out streets, diners that were looking a lot emptier, hollow smiles and haunted eyes, empty chairs at the kitchen table.

Except he did live with it, just not at that particular time. Steve cleared his throat, dry to the bone, something like ash lingering at the back of his tongue. “I had to… had to carry on, for five years after. At times, it was harder than the ice.”

But Peggy only smiled on, uncharacteristic, shine of white teeth like something lacquered over. “Have some water, dear, you sound parched.”

The light seeping through the windows caught in his eyes, near-blinding. Steve raised a hand to shield them – was the sun setting? “Must’ve been hard for you to go through that all alone, after the war. Don’t know how you managed it.”

When he’d blinked the spots out of his eyes, the diner seemed faded – though still bathed in coloured light. Peggy had stopped smiling, though her eyes were still kind. “I wasn’t alone.”

Of course. For all that it had gotten dimmer, the world also seemed clearer at the edges. Like a hazy picture beginning to resolve, showing all its grainy details, cracks in the wall. Steve breathed in the stillness, breathed in the dust. “How’re the husband and kids, Peg?”

Peggy blinked, dark lashes batting through the stillness. She wasn’t wearing a ring. “Steve, I don’t know what you’re–

No, the sun wasn’t setting. But the dimmed light had gone awfully red, casting shadows across Peggy’s cheekbones, creeping across the diner table that was somehow too solid and yet not enough under Steve’s numb fingers. “Peg.”

“They’re.” Peggy hitched a breath. Cast in unearthly scarlet or no, she still looked like Steve’s best dream. “It hasn’t happened yet, but… they’ll be. They’re.. doing really well.”

Behind her glossy locks, Steve could see the diner fracturing – jagged shards of light cleaving through the vinyl booths, checkered floor, white tiling on the counters. His breath was shaking along with it, sucked clean out of his chest like an asthma attack of old, fingers digging into the table– “I never stopped loving you.”

“Me neither, darling.” The words sounded thick in her throat, but Peggy wasn’t crying. She leaned forward, cupped her warm palms over his whitening fingers, “Always.”

Then why. Why did they have to, why couldn’t this be–

(“I needed you. You said ‘together’, and–”)

“You’ve worked so hard. Been… unmeasurably brave, done so much.” Peggy’s eyes glistened with the warmth of a thousand setting suns. “I couldn’t be prouder.”

“I could… I could do it again. Here.” Work at it, at belonging to this time again. It couldn’t hurt as much, couldn’t claw at his throat with the hollowness of it more than the first go around. “With you.”

“Oh, but sweetheart.” Peggy raised soft fingers, leaned enough to ghost them over the back of Steve’s neck, catching at the flyway strands of a haircut she’d never gotten to see. “You’ve already done your time someplace else.”

The light blazed, and the world winked out.

The air pumped through his chest, hard and heavy, throat dry with gasping. His hands were braced on his thighs, view obscured to the gap between them – sweat-slick fringe whipping in his eyes when he bent over and tried to regain his breath.

“Sloppy, sloppy.” A voice teased – Steve jerked his head upright and saw red.

Not the long, straightened sheet of locks he’d gotten used to during D.C.; not even the braid she’d started putting her hair in in the past five years when her roots started growing out. No, Natasha’s hair was scarlet, violently red – and done in the short bob he’d grown to know when they’d first met, and when they trained the Avengers at the compound together.

Which was where they were now, maybe – there were mats under their feet and the training equipment around them looked halfway familiar; somewhere in between what had been in the SHIELD barracks and the Avengers facility gym. On the wall behind, off to the corner of his vision: the edge of a logo set into the plaster gleamed metallic under the afternoon light.

(“That’s what we do, right? The A-vengers? We lost, we–”

“You giving up on the fight, Rogers?” Natasha stretched her hands above her head, jet black leather-and-Kevlar creaking with the motion; rolled the joints in her neck, hair clinging to sweaty skin. “Misery of existence getting you down?”

It was a sharp, sharp jab – Steve heaved a breath and laughed with it, laughed till his eyes were faintly blurring and his chest hurt. Straightened up, meeting twinkling green eyes that he’d thought once upon a time, were cold and unreadable. “You’re not getting off that easy, Romanov.”

“You sure?” Natasha mocked, and the affection of it was raw salt and soothing balm all at once. “You’ve been looking pretty bummed lately. Maybe you should go back to bed, rest those old, creaky joints.”

Steve’s feet were moving – he’d fallen into the dance, the pattern, unaware of even making the first step, the two of them circling each other around the ring. How many times had they done this? He should’ve… he should’ve kept count.

“It’s always the same with you millennials. Life is hard, it always is.” Steve’s gloves creaked as he flexed his fingers, boots gleaming cherry red just at the edge of his sight. The old uniform – now that was a different touch. “Don’t know about you, but I’ve got plenty in my life to get outta bed for.”

“Oh yeah, I’ve heard this one before.” Natasha didn’t roll her eyes, the gesture far too pedestrian for her – and Steve knew that, now and during the course of… ten? Ten years. “The future isn’t really that bad, the internet is such a useful resource, do you know how dangerous polio used to be–”

Oh, but it was far more nuanced than that. In moments, that yawned long and crushingly heavy, the future seemed nothing more than a wasteland. And yet, here was a friend grinning at him from across the ring, and his breath shivered in his chest with the realisation, a truth sitting in his chest too simple to ignore – “I’ve got more than that.”

(“You trust me, right?”)

Natasha stilled. Behind the shield of banter, the fond, biting grin – Steve could see now that her eyes were too bright. Gleaming with a layer of something liquid and unspilled, eyes reddening – streaks crawling in from the corners, overwhelming the whites. “Yeah?”

“Chatting with Mr. Patel at the bodega three miles away. Helping Wanda control her powers.” It was like feeling the dark give way, lightness stealing in – till his vision was wrecked with it, till keeping his eyes closed was no longer an option. “Morning runs with Sam. Sparring with you.”

Natasha’s smile settled into the crinkles of her eyes, a colourless drop leaking out the side and vanishing into the curve of her cheek. Her voice was ever-so-slightly hoarse, and in that moment more tempting than any Black Widow act she’d ever put on. “You can keep this, if you want. Keep all of this.”

The Avengers logo blazed on the wall behind her head, the corner of the A obscured by her curls. It felt, for a second, that his knees might give way after all.

Steve stayed standing. “You can’t.”

There was something trickling down from Natasha’s temple – a thin line of scarlet mingling with the trail of tears. He didn’t know how close to the truth it was. He’d never gotten to see the bod– he’d never gotten to see her go. His voice cracked with the thought, a cleaving strike right down the middle, “I can’t do this without you.”

“Steve.” There was a gentleness about her, a sense of care he’d never deserved. “I did what I had to so you could.”

“Is that…” No matter how many times he cleared his throat, the rawness wouldn’t subside. An open wound, every word flecked with the pain of it, “Is that why you…”

“You already know why.” Did he? The nose of the Valkyrie, heading straight for the Arctic shelf. Natasha’s mouth curled slightly, an affectionate smirk as if she could read his mind. “Serves you right for setting such a good example, hmm?”

“Besides, I had a job.” She said the words like she said so much else, point blank and matter-of-fact – because that was who she was. Not the masks, or the deception, or even the fights. She was duty, and a commitment to it unflinchingly made. “And a debt to repay.”

A debt to repay. The words struck something, grasped for something – past the skin of his chest and aching muscle, through the defences of his ribs and right down to his unenhanced, beating heart.

(Not red this time, no. Hearts were blue, blue and white like the hottest part of a flame; heat and weight slammed down into his palm, metal burning a circle into the skin.

“Liar.”

Burning regret, and a debt that couldn’t be cast away.)

Something slipped into his hand, warm fingers working their way into his own gaps. Steve squeezed against the pressure, breath escaping just a fraction more lightly. “Did it hurt when you went down?”

“No.” Natasha said simply, and the press of her hand against his was not a lie. Reddened as they were, her eyes still looked peaceful. “It was nice. Like a warmth in my chest, of… getting to throw aside all that my life had been used for, and choosing what it was going to mean.”

It means everything. A hero, when it counted the most for everyone. A friend, when it counted the most for me.

“It didn’t feel like that for me, the ice.” The world was hazing around them again, soft and crimson. His fingers curled in harder, held on tighter. “I knew what I was doing was right, but… it didn’t feel like that.”

“Well then.” Natasha tilted her head one last time, light gleaming off the devastating line of her jaw, eyes teasing like he’d remember her best. “What’re you waiting for?”

A breath, brushing past the stillness. Like conviction finally emerging again, settling into its long-worn shoes.

The world blazed bright. Steve let go.

When Steve came back to himself, the universe was in stasis.

It felt like he could see all of it, spanning wide, even though his eyes were only confined to this place, this instant. This battlefield, sprawling on the grounds of a compound he’d once called home.

It was all silent, all still. Ash caught in mid-air, immobile. Weapons thrown and not yet landed. Snarls on unmoving faces, bodies contorted into the fight, friends and enemies all stretching around about him. Frozen in time, and Steve a man out of it.

Something glimmered at the corner of his vision – an exhale fleeted from his lips, a solitary breath among thousands that had been paused midway. The Time Stone shone dully among the gaps of his fingers. But it was only a spark of green amidst a sea of red; the Reality Gem blazing next to it, eye-searing.

Steve could not move his fingers. They twitched a little, but stayed firmly wrapped around, entwined through the scratched-up, faded metal fingers of an Iron Man gauntlet.

Steve lifted his chin, and stared at Tony’s face, frozen inches away from his.

(It had been a split-second decision. Lying on his back, holding a broken shield, tasting the blood through his teeth; catching a glimpse of Tony’s face through the debris, as he looked at someone out of view – at Strange, maybe.

Catching a glimpse of that resolution stealing over his face, grim and ruinously beautiful. Watching the tussle between him and the Mad Titan, watching as Tony Stark outsmarted and outgritted a foe yet again.

“I…am…”

Steve’s fingers twitched. A magnetic pull, a phantom sensation of lifting something that had never felt this light before.

Mjolnir plowed through the air, smashing into gold and titanium-alloy. Tony’s face contorted in agony, breath stuttering – but it served the purpose, the weight of the hammer pulling him forward several, crucial inches. Steve could feel the dirt under his fingernails, the watery shake of his arms as he pulled himself up one last time – dragged his knees over the ground to close the gap. Reached out, and this time he wasn’t too far away. This time, he caught the hand and held it tight.

Please, he thought, fingers clammy against warm metal, Tony’s eyes wide and so close and ash dusty over those lashes, please, as his skin brushed against the warmth of the gems, scorching points of contact.

Please, as the world froze and blazed red, and reality splintered with possibilities in his mind.)

That had been a second ago.

“Thank you.” He whispered, sound barely escaping the ash, the hoarseness, the throttling gratitude. The Reality Gem shone on like a constant, Time a quiet counterpoint to the side.

He had the time now, so he took it. Several selfish seconds, of staring at the brown eyes so inescapably close to his, the ones that had spat contempt at him and offered a home to him and widened in betrayal at his actions. Steve memorised it all, like a painting he’d never be able to put to page – the blood-crusted mess of Tony’s hair, the silver in his eyebrows, the gaunt hollows of his cheeks, the resolute tilt of his chin. The brightness of him, the tenacity, the inability to walk away – like red still lingering in the sky long after the sun had gone down.

Steve’s breath felt thick in his throat, blood and air all congealed to one. With the hand not trapped in the gauntlet, burning over the Stones – he brushed his knuckles over the warm, hard gristle of Tony’s jaw. A stolen touch, the last thing Steve would ever take from him again.

(“I will miss you Tony.”)

“Please.” Reality flickered around them. The Gem glowed, nanites stirring under Steve’s palm, like the faintest tickle, a warm breath huffed over skin. They peeled out in layers, withdrawing from Tony’s ashy skin and flowing over Steve’s hand – welcoming streams that trailed static electricity till they encased him from wrist to fingertip.

The Stones followed, five throbbing points settling below his knuckles. They still felt lighter than the phantom weight of an arc reactor, chest-warm and leaden in his palm.

Steve’s was a life mired with regrets. But in this, insular instant – the only thing he regretted was having to let go of Tony’s bare hand.

One snap, and the world came back to life.

It was like feeling his atoms implode, the burn beginning from the tips of his fingers and scoring past muscle, sinew, nerve – the blood in his veins on fire, working up his arm and charring everything in its path. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, ground rushing up to hit his spine–

“What. What the fuck, no, no, fuck, no, Steve–”

Something gurgled at the back of his throat. Steve stared up at the sky, unseeing – until his vision was filled with something too familiar, hair and face and eyes looking down, so deeply embedded into his psyche that he couldn’t not recognise–

“T..Tony.” There was warmth at the back of his neck, warmth separate from the burn carving through the right side of his chest. Like someone was clasping his neck, bracing it – like Steve’s stolen touch did not matter, because Tony would always give everything freely away.

“I had it, I had him, why would, Steve, Steve–”

Parts of Steve could still feel the serum kicking away, fighting desperately in its last stretches – I can do this all… I can do this –

“Tony, I…I am so sorry.”

Tony’s face stared down, lips clamped down tight like his teeth were biting through the skin on the inside. There were streaks of shining moisture on his cheeks, clear tracks running down the grime. His voice rang like iron. “No. No. Not good enough, Rogers. I don’t accept this, I can’t–”

“What’s her name.” Steve whispered it on a rasping breath, and Tony’s voice broke off. “Your… daughter. Tell me her name.”

“Morgan.” More liquid, welling up at the edges of those eyes, where the laugh lines usually sat – Steve ached to reach up and brush them away.

“Thought.” The next words were unbearably hard to get out, the burn flickering at the hollow of his throat. Steve struggled through it, single-minded, like every asthma attack, every bully’s fist, every bullet and hit that had ever threatened to keep him down and never succeeded. “Thought tha… that was a… fella’s name.”

“We’re rich and eccentric, it works out.” The words flitted out heedlessly, like Tony’s lips were moving and he didn’t particularly care what came out.

We. Once upon a time, that might’ve rung hollow in Steve’s chest, a pang of longing. Now it nestled there, warm and soothing and protected from the burn.

“Steve.” Something hit Steve’s cracked lips, tingling there – if he flicked his tongue out, he might taste water and salt. “You can’t give up like this.”

But I’m not. This wasn’t like losing faith, like walking away in the middle of the journey. This was finally staggering to the summit, and seeing your destination over the horizon. This was adding that final fleck of paint, that dab of red, to make the picture all worth it.

The hold shifted from Steve’s neck to the back of shoulders that were almost insensate, another arm cupping around his waist – till Tony had hauled him right up, and pressed him close, dark hair brushing over the tip of Steve’s nose. His voice in Steve’s ear was barely above a whisper, barely a question. Maybe it wasn’t even meant for him. “Why.”

The reactor dug into Steve’s sternum, a circle of glowing warmth. It felt nice.

The world was falling away, breaths slowing and heart drifting to a stop, and it felt nothing like the ice.

“I was looking for a happy ending.”

#avengers endgame spoilers #endgame fic #stony #avengers endgame #steve rogers #tony stark #natasha romanov #not a fix-it but a right-it #canon divergence #pining #stevetony

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grigori77 · 5 years

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Movies of 2019 - My Pre-Summer Favourites (Part 2)

The Top Ten:

10. GLASS – back in 2000, I went from liking the work of The Sixth Sense’s writer-director M. Night Shyamalan to becoming a genuine FAN thanks to his sneakily revisionist deconstruction of superhero tropes, Unbreakable. It’s STILL my favourite film of his to date, and one of my Top Ten superhero movies EVER, not just a fascinating examination of the mechanics of the genre but also a very satisfying screen origin story – needless to say I’m one of MANY fans who’ve spent nearly two decades holding out hope for a sequel. Flash forward to 2016 and Shyamalan’s long-overdue return-to-form sleeper hit, Split, which not only finally put his career back on course but also dropped a particularly killer end twist by actually being that very sequel. Needless to say 2019 was the year we FINALLY got our PROPER reward for all our patience – Glass is the TRUE continuation of the Unbreakable universe and the closer of a long-intended trilogy. Turns out, though, that it’s also his most CONTROVERSIAL film for YEARS, dividing audiences and critics alike with its unapologetically polarizing plot and execution – I guess that, after a decade of MCU and a powerhouse trilogy of Batman movies from Chris Nolan, we were expecting an epic, explosive action-fest to close things out, but that means we forgot exactly what it is about Shyamalan we got to love so much, namely his unerring ability to subvert and deconstruct whatever genre he’s playing around in. And he really doesn’t DO spectacle, does he? That said, this film is still a surprisingly BIG, sprawling piece of work, even if it the action is, for the most part, MUCH more internalised than most superhero movies. Not wanting to drop any major spoilers on the few who still haven’t seen it, I won’t give away any major plot points, suffice to say that ALL the major players from both Unbreakable and Split have returned – former security guard David Dunn (Bruce Willis) has spent the past nineteen years exploring his super-strength and near-invulnerability while keeping Philadelphia marginally safer as hooded vigilante the Overseer, and the latest target of his crime-fighting crusade is Kevin Wendell Crumb (James McAvoy), the vessel of 24 split personalities collectively known as the Horde, who’s continuing his cannibalistic serial-murder spree through the streets. Both are being hunted by the police, as well as Dr. Ellie Staple (series newcomer Sarah Paulson), a clinical psychiatrist specialising in treating individuals who suffer the delusional belief that they’re superheroes, her project also encompassing David’s former mentor-turned-nemesis Elijah Price, the eponymous Mr. Glass, whose life-long suffering from a crippling bone disease that makes his body dangerously fragile has done nothing to blunt the genius-level intellect that’s made him a ruthlessly accomplished criminal mastermind. How these remarkable individuals are brought together makes for fascinating viewing, and while it may be a good deal slower and talkier than some might have preferred, this is still VERY MUCH the Shyamalan we first came to admire – fiendishly inventive, slow-burn suspenseful and absolutely DRIPPING with cool, earworm dialogue, his characteristically mischievous sense of humour still present and correct, and he’s still retained that unswerving ability to wrong-foot us at every turn, right up to one of his most surprising twist endings to date. The cast are, as ever, on fire, the returning hands all superb while those new to the universe easily measure up to the quality of talent on display – Willis and Jackson are, as you’d expect, PERFECT throughout, brilliantly building on the incredibly solid groundwork laid in Unbreakable, while it’s a huge pleasure to see Anya Taylor-Joy, Spencer Treat Clark (a fine actor we don’t see NEARLY enough of, in my opinion) and Charlayne Woodard get MUCH bigger, more prominent roles this time out, while Paulson delivers an understated but frequently mesmerising turn as the ultimate unshakable sceptic. As with Split, however, the film is once again comprehensively stolen by McAvoy, whose truly chameleonic performance actually manages to eclipse its predecessor in its levels of sheer genius. Altogether this is another sure-footed step in the right direction for a director who’s finally regained his singular auteur prowess – say what you will about that ending, but it certainly is a game-changer, as boldly revisionist as anything that’s preceded it and therefore, in my opinion, exactly how it SHOULD have gone. If nothing else, this is a film that should be applauded for its BALLS …

9. PET SEMATARY – first off, let me say that I never saw the 1989 feature adaptation of Stephen King’s story, so I have no comparative frame of reference there – I WILL say, however, that the original novel is, in my opinion, easily one of the strongest offerings from America’s undisputed master of literary horror, so any attempt made to bring it to the big screen had better be a good one. Thankfully, this version more than delivers in that capacity, proving to be one of the more impressive of his cinematic outings in recent years (not quite up to the standard of The Mist, perhaps, but about on a par with It: Chapter One or the criminally overlooked 1408), as well as one of this year’s best horror offerings by far (at least for now). This may be the feature debut of directing double-act Kevin Kölsch and Dennis Widmyer, but they both display a wealth of natural talent here, wrangling bone-chilling scares and a pervading atmosphere of oppressive dread to deliver a top-notch screen fright-fest that works its way under your skin and stays put for days after. Jason Clarke is a classic King everyman hero as Boston doctor Louis Creed, displaced to the small Maine town of Ludlow as he trades the ER for a quiet clinic practice so he can spent more time with his family – Amy Seimetz (Upstream Color, Stranger Things), excellent throughout as his haunted, emotionally fragile wife Rachel, toddler son Gage (twins Hugo and Lucas Lavole), and daughter Ellie (newcomer Jeté Laurence, BY FAR the film’s biggest revelation, delivering to the highest degree even when her role becomes particularly intense). Their new home seems idyllic, the only blots being the main road at the end of their drive which experiences heavy traffic from speeding trucks, and the children’s pet cemetery in the woods at the back of their garden, which has become something of a local landmark. But there’s something far darker in the deeper places beyond, an ancient place of terrible power Louis is introduced to by their well-meaning but ultimately fallible elderly neighbour Jud (one of the best performances I’ve ever seen from screen legend John Lithgow) when his daughter’s beloved cat Church is run over. The cat genuinely comes back, but he’s irrevocably changed, the once sweet and lovable furball now transformed into a menacingly mangy little four-legged psychopath, and his resurrection sets off a chain of horrific events destined to devour the entire family … this is supernatural horror at its most inherently unnerving, mercilessly twisting the screws throughout its slow-burn build to the inevitable third act bloodbath and reaching a bleak, soul-crushing climax that comes close to rivalling the still unparalleled sucker-punch of The Mist – the adaptation skews significantly from King’s original at the mid-point, but even purists will be hard-pressed to deny that this is still VERY MUCH in keeping with the spirit of the book right up to its harrowing closing shot. The King of Horror has been well served once again – it’s may well be ousted when It: Chapter 2 arrives in September, but fans can rest assured that his dark imagination continues to inspire some truly great cinematic scares …

8. PROSPECT – I love a good cinematic underdog, there’s always some dynamite indies and sleepers that just about slip through the cracks that I end up championing every year, and 2019’s current favourite was a minor sensation at 2018’s South By Southwest film festival, a singularly original ultra-low-budget sci-fi adventure that made a genuine virtue of its miniscule budget. Riffing on classic eco-minded space flicks like Silent Running, it introduces a father-and-daughter prospecting team who land a potentially DEEPLY lucrative contract mining for an incredibly rare element on a toxic jungle moon – widower Damon (Transparent’s Jay Duplass), who’s downtrodden and world-weary but still a dreamer, and teenager Cee (relative newcomer Sophie Thatcher), an introverted bookworm with hidden reserves of ingenuity and fortitude. The job starts well, Damon setting his sights on a rumoured “queen’s layer” that could make them rich beyond their wildest dreams, but when they meet smooth-talking scavenger Ezra (Narcos’ Pedro Pascal), things take a turn for the worse – Damon is killed and Cee is forced to team up with Ezra to have any hope of survival on this hostile, unforgiving moon. Thatcher is an understated joy throughout, her seemingly detached manner belying hidden depths of intense feeling, while Pascal, far from playing a straight villain, turns Ezra into something of a tragic, charismatic antihero we eventually start to sympathise with, and the complex relationship that develops between them is a powerful, mercurial thing, the constantly shifting dynamic providing a powerful driving force for the film. Debuting writer-directors Zeek Earl and Chris Caldwell have crafted a wonderfully introspective, multi-layered tone poem of aching beauty, using subtle visual effects and a steamy, glow-heavy colour palette to make the lush forest environs into something nonetheless eerie and inhospitable, while the various weird and colourful denizens of this deadly little world prove that Ezra may be the LEAST of the dangers Cee faces in her hunt for escape. Inventive, intriguing and a veritable feast for the eyes and intellect, this is top-notch indie sci-fi and a sign of great things to come from its creators, thoroughly deserving of some major cult recognition in the future.

7. DRAGGED ACROSS CONCRETE – S. Craig Zahler is a writer-director who’s become a major fixture on my ones-to-watch list in recent years, instantly winning me over with his dynamite debut feature Bone Tomahawk before cementing that status with awesome follow-up Brawl On Cell Block 99. His latest is another undeniable hit that starts deceptively simply before snowballing into a sprawling urban crime epic as it follows its main protagonists – disgraced Bulwark City cops Brett Ridgeman (Mel Gibson) and Tony Lurasetti (Cell Block 99’s Vince Vaughn), on unpaid suspension after their latest bust leads to a PR nightmare – on a descent into a hellish criminal underworld as they set out to “seek compensation” for their situation by ripping off the score from a bank robbery spearheaded by ruthlessly efficient professional thief Lorentz Vogelmann (Thomas Kretschmann). In lesser hands, this two-hour-forty-minute feature might have felt like a painfully padded effort that would have passed far better chopped down to a breezy 90-minutes, but Zahler is such a compellingly rich and resourceful writer that every scene is essential viewing, overflowing with exquisitely drawn characters spouting endlessly quotable, gold-plated dialogue, and the constantly shifting narrative focus brings such consistent freshness that the increasingly complex plot remains rewarding right to the end. The two leads are both typically excellent – Vaughn gets to let loose with a far more showy, garrulous turn here than his more reserved character in his first collaboration with Zahler, while this is EASILY the best performance I’ve seen Gibson deliver in YEARS, the grizzled veteran clearly having a fine old time getting his teeth into a particularly meaty role that very much plays to his strengths – and they’re brilliantly bolstered by an excellent supporting cast – Get Rich Or Die Tryin’s Tory Kittles easily matches them in his equally weighty scenes as Henry Johns, a newly-released ex-con also out to improve his family’s situation with a major score, while Kretschmann is at his most chilling as the brutal killer who executes his plans with cold-blooded precision, and there are wonderful scene-stealing offerings from Jennifer Carpenter, Udo Kier, Don Johnson (three more Zahler regulars, each having worked with Vaughn on Cell Block 99), Michael Jai White, Laurie Holden and newcomer Miles Truitt. This is a really meaty film, dark, intense, gritty and unflinching in its portrayal of honest, unglamorous violence and its messy aftermath, but fans of grown-up filmmaking will find PLENTY to enjoy here, Zahler crafting a crime epic comparable to the heady best of Scorsese and Tarantino. Another sure-fire winner from one of the best new filmmakers around.

6. SHAZAM! – there are actually THREE movies featuring Captain Marvel out this year, but this offering from the hit-and-miss DCEU cinematic franchise is a very different beast from his MCU-based namesake, and besides, THIS Cap long ago ditched said monicker for the far more catchy (albeit rather more oddball) title that graces Warner Bros’ latest step back on the right track for their superhero Universe following December’s equally enjoyable Aquaman and franchise high-point Wonder Woman. Although he’s never actually referred to in the film by this name, Shazam (Chuck’s Zachary Levy) is the magically-powered alternate persona bestowed upon wayward fifteen year-old foster kid Billy Batson (Andi Mack’s Asher Angel) by an ancient wizard (Djimon Hounsou) seeking one pure soul to battle Dr. Thaddeus Sivana (Mark Strong), a morally corrupt physicist who turns into a monstrous supervillain after becoming the vessel for the spiritual essences of the Seven Deadly Sins (yup, that thoroughly batshit setup is just the tip of the iceberg of bonkersness on offer in this movie). Yes, this IS set in the DC Extended Universe, Shazam sharing his world with Superman, Batman, the Flash et al, and there are numerous references (both overt and sly) to this fact throughout (especially in the cheeky animated closing title sequence), but it’s never laboured, and the film largely exists in its own comfortably enclosed narrative bubble, allowing us to focus on Billy, his alter ego and in particular his clunky (but oh so much fun) bonding experiences with his new foster family, headed by former foster kid couple Victor and Rosa Vazquez (The Walking Dead’s Cooper Andrews and Marta Milans) – the most enjoyably portions of the film, however, are when Billy explores the mechanics and limits of his newfound superpowers with his new foster brother Freddy Freeman (It: Chapter One’s Jack Dylan Glazer), a consistently hilarious riot of bad behaviour, wanton (often accidental) destruction and perfectly-observed character development, the blissful culmination of a gleefully anarchic sense of humour that, until recently, has been rather lacking in the DCEU but which is writ large in bright, wacky primary colours right through this film. Sure, there are darker moments, particularly when Sivana sets loose his fantastic icky brood of semi-incorporeal monsters, and these scenes are handled with seasoned skill by director David F. Sandberg, who cut his teeth on ingenious little horror gem Lights Out (following up with Annabelle: Creation, but we don’t have to dwell on that), but for the most part the film is played for laughs, thrills and pure, unadulterated FUN, almost never taking itself too seriously, essentially intended to do for the DCEU what Guardians of the Galaxy and Ant-Man did for the MCU, and a huge part of its resounding success must of course be attributed to the universally willing cast. Levy’s so ridiculously pumped-up he almost looks like a special effect all on his own, but he’s lost none of his razor-sharp comic ability, perfectly encapsulating a teenage boy in a grown man’s body, while his chemistry with genuine little comedic dynamo Glazer is simply exquisite, a flawless balance shared with Angel, who similarly excels at the humour but also delivers quality goods in some far more serious moments too, while the rest of Billy’s newfound family are all brilliant, particularly ridiculously adorable newcomer Faithe Herman as precocious little motor-mouth Darla; Djimon Hounsou, meanwhile, adds significant class and gravitas to what could have been a cartoonish Gandalf spoof, and Mark Strong, as usual, gives great bad guy as Sivana, providing just the right amount of malevolent swagger and self-important smirk to proceedings without ever losing sight of the deeper darkness within. All round, this is EXACTLY the kind of expertly crafted superhero package we’ve come to appreciate in the genre, another definite shot in the arm for the DCEU that holds great hope for the future of the franchise, and some of the biggest fun I’ve had at the cinema so far this year. Granted, it’s still not a patch on the MCU, but the quality gap does finally look to be closing …

5. ALITA: BATTLE ANGEL – y’know, there was a time when James Cameron was quite a prolific director, who could be counted upon to provide THE big event pic of the blockbuster season. These days, we’re lucky to hear from him once a decade, and now we don’t even seem to be getting that – the dream project Cameron’s been trying to make since the end of the 90s, a big live action adaptation of one of my favourite mangas of all time, Gunnm (or Battle Angel Alita to use its more well-known sobriquet) by Yukito Kishiro, has FINALLY arrived, but it isn’t the big man behind the camera here since he’s still messing around with his intended FIVE MOVIE Avatar arc. That said, he made a damn good choice of proxy to bring his vision to fruition – Robert Rodriguez is, of course a fellow master of action cinema, albeit one with a much more quirky style, and this adap is child’s play to him, the creator of the El Mariachi trilogy and co-director of Frank Miller’s Sin City effortlessly capturing the dark, edgy life-and-death danger and brutal wonder of Kishiro’s world in moving pictures. 300 years after the Earth was decimated in a massive war with URM (the United Republics of Mars) known as “the Fall”, only one bastion of civilization remains – Iron City, a sprawling, makeshift community of scavengers that lies in the shadow of the floating city of Zalem, home of Earth’s remaining aristocracy. Dr. Dyson Ido (Christoph Waltz) runs a clinic in Iron City customising and repairing the bodies of its cyborg citizens, from the mercenary “hunter killers” to the fast-living players of Motorball (a kind of supercharged mixture of Rollerball and Death Race), one day discovering the wrecked remains of a female ‘borg in the junkyard of scrap accumulated beneath Zalem. Finding her human brain is still alive, he gives her a new chassis and christens her Alita, raising her as best he can as she attempts to piece together her mysterious, missing past, only for them both to discover that the truth of her origins has the potential to tear their fragile little world apart forever. The Maze Runner trilogy’s Rosa Salazar is the heart and soul of the film as Alita (originally Gally in the comics), perfectly bringing her (literal) wide-eyed innocence and irrepressible spirit to life, as well as proving every inch the diminutive badass fans have been expecting – while her overly anime-styled look might have seemed a potentially jarring distraction in the trailers, Salazar’s mocap performance is SO strong you’ve forgotten all about it within the first five minutes, convinced she’s a real, flesh-and-metal character – and she’s well supported by an exceptional ensemble cast both new and well-established. Waltz is the most kind and sympathetic he’s been since Django Unchained, instilling Ido with a worldly warmth and gentility that makes him a perfect mentor/father-figure, while Spooksville star Keean Johnson makes a VERY impressive big screen breakthrough as Hugo, the streetwise young dreamer with a dark secret that Alita falls for in a big way, Jennifer Connelly is icily classy as Ido’s ex-wife Chiren, Mahershala Ali is enjoyably suave and mysterious as the film’s nominal villain, Vector, an influential but seriously shady local entrepreneur with a major hidden agenda, and a selection of actors shine through the CGI in various strong mocap performances, such as Deadpool’s Ed Skrein, Derek Mears, From Dusk Til Dawn’s Eiza Gonzalez and a thoroughly unrecognisable but typically awesome Jackie Earle Haley. As you’d expect from Rodriguez, the film delivers BIG TIME on the action front, unleashing a series of spectacular set-pieces that peak with Alita’s pulse-pounding Motorball debut, but there’s a pleasingly robust story under all the thrills and wow-factor, riffing on BIG THEMES and providing plenty of emotional power, especially in the heartbreaking character-driven climax – Cameron, meanwhile, has clearly maintained strict control over the project throughout, his eye and voice writ large across every scene as we’re thrust headfirst into a fully-immersive post-apocalyptic, rusty cyberpunk world as thoroughly fleshed-out as Avatar’s Pandora, but most importantly he’s still done exactly what he set out to do, paying the utmost respect to a cracking character as he brings her to vital, vivid life on the big screen. Don’t believe the detractors – this is a MAGNIFICENT piece of work that deserves all the recognition it can muster, perfectly set up for a sequel that I fear we may never get to see. Oh well, at least it’s renewed my flagging hopes for a return to Pandora …

4. HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON: THE HIDDEN WORLD – while I love Disney and Pixar as much as the next movie nut, since the Millennium my loyalty has been slowly but effectively usurped by the consistently impressive (but sometimes frustratingly underappreciated) output of Dreamworks Animation Studios, and in recent years in particular they really have come to rival the House of Mouse in both the astounding quality of their work and their increasing box office reliability. But none of their own franchises (not even Shrek or Kung Fu Panda) have come CLOSE to equalling the sheer, unbridled AWESOMENESS of How to Train Your Dragon, which started off as a fairly loose adaptation of Cressida Cowell’s popular series of children’s stories but quickly developed a very sharp mind of its own – the first two films were undisputable MASTERPIECES, and this third and definitively FINAL chapter in the trilogy matches them to perfection, as well as capping the story off with all the style, flair and raw emotional power we’ve come to expect. The time has come to say goodbye to diminutive Viking Hiccup (Jay Baruchel, as effortlessly endearing as ever) and his adorable Night Fury mount/best friend Toothless, fiancée Astrid (America Ferrera, still tough, sassy and WAY too good for him), mother Valka (Cate Blanchett, classy, wise and still sporting a pretty flawless Scottish accent) and all the other Dragon Riders of the tiny, inhospitable island kingdom of Berk – their home has become overpopulated with scaly, fire-breathing denizens, while a trapper fleet led by the fiendish Grimmel the Grisly (F. Murray Abraham delivering a wonderfully soft-spoken, subtly chilling master villain) is beginning to draw close, prompting Hiccup to take up his late father Stoick (Gerard Butler returning with a gentle turn that EASILY prompts tears and throat-lumps) the Vast’s dream of finding the fabled “Hidden World”, a mysterious safe haven for dragon-kind where they can be safe from those who seek to do them harm. But there’s a wrinkle – Grimmel has a new piece of bait, a female Night Fury (or rather, a “Light Fury”), a major distraction that gets Toothless all hot and bothered … returning witer-director Dean DeBlois has rounded things off beautifully with this closer, giving loyal fans everything they could ever want while also introducing fresh elements such as intriguing new environments, characters and species of dragons to further enrich what is already a powerful, intoxicating world for viewers young and old (I particularly love Craig Ferguson’s ever-reliable comic relief veteran Viking Gobber’s brilliant overreactions to a certain adorably grotesque little new arrival), and like its predecessors this film is just as full of wry, broad and sometimes slightly (or not so slightly) absurd humour and deep down gut-twisting FEELS as it is of stirring, pulse-quickening action sequences and sheer, jaw-dropping WONDER, so it’s as nourishing to our soul as it is to our senses. From the perfectly-pitched, cheekily irreverent opening to the truly devastating, heartbreaking close, this is EXACTLY the final chapter we’ve always dreamed of, even if it does hurt to see this most beloved of screen franchises go. It’s been a wild ride, and one that I think really does CEMENT Dreamworks’ status as one of the true giants of the genre …

3. US – back in 2017, Jordan Peele made the transition from racially-charged TV and stand-up comedy to astounding cinemagoers with stunning ease through his writer-director feature debut Get Out, a sharply observed jet black comedy horror with SERIOUS themes that was INSANELY well-received by audiences and horror fans alike. Peele instantly became ONE TO WATCH in the genre, so his follow-up feature had A LOT riding on it, but this equally biting, deeply satirical existential mind-bender is EASILY the equal of its predecessor, possibly even its better … giving away too much plot detail would do great disservice to the many intriguing, shocking twists on offer as middle class parents Adelaide and Gabe Wilson (Black Panther alumni Lupita Nyong’o and Winston Duke) take their children, Zora (Shahadi Wright Joseph) and Jason (Evan Alex), to Santa Cruz on vacation, only to step into a nightmare as a night-time visitation by a family of murderous doppelgangers signals the start of a terrifying supernatural revolution with potential nationwide consequences. The idea at the heart of this film is ASTOUNDINGLY original, quite an achievement in a genre where just about everything has been tried at least once, but it’s also DEEPLY subversive, as challenging and thought-provoking as the themes visited in Get Out, but also potentially even more wide-reaching. It’s also THOROUGHLY fascinating and absolutely TERRIFYING, a peerless exercise in slow-burn tension and acid-drip discomfort, liberally soaked in an oppressive atmosphere so thick you could choke on it if you’re not careful, such a perfect horror master-class it’s amazing that this is only Peele’s second FEATURE, never mind his sophomore offering IN THE GENRE. The incredibly game cast really help, too – the four leads are all EXCEPTIONAL, each delivering fascinatingly nuanced performances in startlingly oppositional dual roles as both the besieged family AND their monstrous doubles, a feat brilliantly mimicked by Mad Men and The Handmaid’s Tale star Elisabeth Moss, Tim Heidecker and teen twins Cali and Noelle Sheldon as the Wilsons’ friends, the Tylers, and their similarly psychotic mimics. The film is DOMINATED, however, by Oscar-troubler Nyong’o, effortlessly holding our attention throughout the film with yet another raw, intense, masterful turn that keeps up glued to the screen from start to finish, even as the twists get weirder and more full-on brain-mashy. Of course, while this really is scary as hell, it’s also often HILARIOUSLY funny, Peele again poking HUGE fun at both his target audience AND his allegorical targets, proving that scares often work best when twinned with humour. BY FAR the best thing in horror so far this year, Us shows just what a master of the genre Jordan Peele is – let’s hope he’s here to stay …

2. CAPTAIN MARVEL – before the first real main event of not only the year’s blockbusters but also, more importantly, 2019’s big screen MCU roster, Marvel Studios president Kevin Feige and co dropped a powerful opening salvo with what, it turns out, was the TRUE inception point of the Avengers Initiative and all its accompanying baggage (not Captain America: the First Avenger, as we were originally led to believe). For me, this is simply the MCU movie I have MOST been looking forward to essentially since the beginning – the onscreen introduction of my favourite Avenger, former US Air Force Captain Carol Danvers, the TRUE Captain Marvel (no matter what the DC purists might say), who was hinted at in the post credits sting of Avengers: Endgame but never actually seen. Not only is she the most powerful Avenger (sorry Thor, but it’s true), but for me she’s also the most badass – she’s an unstoppable force of (cosmically enhanced) nature, with near GODLIKE powers (she can even fly through space without needing a suit!), but the thing that REALLY makes her so full-on EPIC is her sheer, unbreakable WILL, the fact that no matter what’s thrown at her, no matter how often or how hard she gets knocked down, she KEEPS GETTING BACK UP. She is, without a doubt, the MOST AWESOME woman in the entire Marvel Universe, both on the comic page AND up on the big screen. Needless to say, such a special character needs an equally special actor to portray her, and we’re thoroughly blessed in the inspired casting choice of Brie Larson (Room, Kong: Skull Island), who might as well have been purpose-engineered exclusively for this very role – she’s Carol Danvers stepped right out of the primary-coloured panels, as steely cool, unswervingly determined and strikingly statuesque as she’s always been drawn and scripted, with just the right amount of twinkle-eyed, knowing smirk and sassy humour to complete the package. Needless to say she’s the heart and soul of the film, a pure joy to watch throughout, but there’s so much more to enjoy here that this is VERY NEARLY the most enjoyable cinematic experience I’ve had so far this year … writer-director double-act Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck may only be known for smart, humble indies like Half Nelson and Mississippi Grind, but they’ve taken to the big budget, all-action blockbuster game like ducks to water, co-scripting with Geneva Robertson-Dworet (writer of the Tomb Raider reboot movie and the incoming third Guy Ritchie Sherlock Holmes movie) to craft yet another pitch-perfect MCU origin story, playing a sneakily multilayered, misleading game of perception-versus-truth as we’re told how Carol got her powers and became the unstoppable badass supposedly destined to turn the tide in a certain Endgame … slyly rolling the clock back to the mid-90s, we’re presented with a skilfully realised “period” culture clash adventure as Carol, an super-powered warrior fighting for the Kree Empire against the encroaching threat of the shape-shifting Skrulls, crash-lands in California and winds up uncovering the hidden truth behind her origins, with the help of a particular SHIELD agent, before he wound up with an eye-patch and a more cynical point-of-view – yup, it’s a younger, fresher Nick Fury (the incomparable Samuel L. Jackson, digitally de-aged with such skill it’s really just a pure, flesh-and-blood performance). There’s action, thrills, spectacle and (as always with the MCU) pure, skilfully observed, wry humour by the bucket-load, but one of the biggest strengths of the film is the perfectly natural chemistry between the two leads, Larson and Jackson playing off each other BEAUTIFULLY, no hint of romantic tension, just a playfully prickly, banter-rich odd couple vibe that belies a deep, honest respect building between both the characters and, clearly, the actors themselves. There’s also sterling support from Jude Law as Kree warrior Yon-Rogg, Carol’s commander and mentor, Ben Mendelsohn, slick, sly and surprisingly seductive (despite a whole lot of make-up) as Skrull leader Talos, returning MCU-faces Clark Gregg and Lee Pace as rookie SHIELD agent Phil Coulson (another wildly successful de-aging job) and Kree Accuser Ronan, Annette Bening as a mysterious face from Carol’s past and, in particular, Lashana Lynch (Still Star-Crossed, soon to be seen in the next Bond) as Carol’s one-time best friend and fellow Air Force pilot Maria Rambeau, along with the impossible adorable Akira Akbar as her precocious daughter Monica … that said, the film is frequently stolen by a quartet of ginger tabbies who perfectly capture fan-favourite Goose the “cat” (better known to comics fans as Chewie). This is about as great as the MCU standalone films get – for me it’s up there with the Russo’s Captain America films and Black Panther, perfectly pitched and SO MUCH FUN, but with a multilayered, monofilament-sharp intelligence that makes it a more cerebrally satisfying ride than most blockbusters, throwing us a slew of skilfully choreographed twists and narrative curveballs we almost never see coming, and finishing it off with a bucket-load of swaggering style and pure, raw emotional power (the film kicks right off with an incredibly touching, heartfelt tear-jerking tribute to Marvel master Stan Lee). Forget Steve Rogers – THIS is the Captain us MCU fans need AND deserve, and I am SO CHUFFED they got my favourite Avenger so totally, perfectly RIGHT. I can die happy now, I guess …

1. AVENGERS: ENDGAME – the stars have aligned and everything is right with the world – the second half of the ridiculously vast, epic, nerve-shredding and gut-punching MCU saga that began with last year’s Avengers: Infinity War has FINALLY arrived and it’s JUST AS GOOD as its predecessor … maybe even a little bit better, simply by virtue of the fact that (just about) all the soul-crushing loss and upheaval of the first film is resolved here. Opening shortly after the universally cataclysmic repercussions of “the Snap”, the world at large and the surviving Avengers in particular are VERY MUCH on the back foot as they desperately search for a means to reverse the damage wrought by brutally single-minded cosmic megalomaniac Thanos and his Infinity Stone-powered gauntlet – revealing much more dumps so many spoilers it’s criminal to continue, so I’ll simply say that their immediate plan really DOESN’T work out, leaving them worse off than ever. Fast-forward five years and the universe is a very different place, mourning what it’s lost and torn apart by grief-fuelled outbursts, while our heroes in particular are in various, sometimes better, but often much worse places – Bruce Banner/the Hulk (Mark Ruffallo) has found a kind of peace that’s always eluded him before, but Thor (Chris Hemsworth) really is a MESS, while Clint Barton/Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner) has gone to a VERY dark place indeed. Then Ant-Man Scott Lang (Paul Rudd) finds a way back from his forced sojourn in the Quantum Realm, and brings with him a potential solution of a very temporal nature … star directors the Russo Brothers, along with returning screenwriters Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely, have once again crafted a stunning cinematic masterpiece, taking what could have been a bloated, overloaded and simply RIDICULOUS narrative mess and weaving it into a compelling, rich and thoroughly rewarding ride that, despite its THREE HOURS PLUS RUNNING TIME, stays fresh and interesting from start to finish, building on the solid foundations of Infinity War while also forging new ground (narratively speaking, at least) incorporating a wonderfully fresh take on time-travel that pokes gleeful fun at the decidedly clichéd tropes inherent in this particular little sub-genre. In fact this is frequently a simply HILARIOUS film in its own right, largely pulling away from the darker tone of its predecessor by injecting a very strong vein of chaotic humour into proceedings, perfectly tempering the more dramatic turns and epic feels that inevitably crop up, particularly as the stakes continue to rise. Needless to say the entire cast get to shine throughout, particularly those veterans whose own tours of duty in the franchise are coming to a close, and as with Infinity War even the minor characters get at least a few choice moments in the spotlight, especially in the vast, operatic climax where pretty much the ENTIRE MCU cast return for the inevitable final showdown. It’s a masterful affair, handled with skill and deep, earnest respect but also enough irreverence to keep it fun, although in the end it really comes down to those big, fat, heart-crushing emotional FEELS, as we say goodbye to some favourites and see others reach crossroads in their own arcs that send them off in new, interesting directions. Seriously guys, take a lot of tissues, you really will need them. If this were the very last MCU film ever, I’d say it’s a PERFECT piece to go out on – thankfully it’s not, and while it is the end of an era the franchise looks set to go on as strong as ever, safe in the knowledge that there’s plenty more cracking movies on the way so long as Kevin Feige and co continue to employ top-notch talent like this to make their films. Ten years and twenty-two films down, then – here’s to ten and twenty-two more, I say …

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