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malumxsubest · 10 months

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FIRST MEETINGS MEME

A meme for first meetings and introduction threads, aka a ‘What you will notice about my muse first’ cheat sheet. Repost, don’t reblog. Bold what applies. Fill in details. blank meme & credit: x

Sex: Masculine. Feminine. Non-Binary.

Notes: despite being a sexless entity, amelia ( void ) prefers a feminine physique and pronouns.

Species: cosmic primordial deity - void

Complexion: fair with neutral undertone.

Height: five foot. ( 5'0" ; 152.4 cm )

Body Type: Endomorph. Mesomorph. Ectomorph.

Other / More Details: she has a slight romantic body type despite being slender. has child-bearing hips even though she never birthed children before. perhaps her vessel makes a mockery of her... click here for an example.

Body Build: Small. Medium. Athletic. Muscular. Soft. Curvy. Voluptuous.

Other / More Details: she is petite. however she has long legs and a bit of a short torso.

Body Hair: None. Shaves/Waxes. Trims/Grooms. Untamed.

Color: the curtain certainly does not match the drapes. the hair down there is like a reddish-brown along with her eyebrows. however her eyelashes are black.

Notes: she does not have underarm hair or hair on her arms, legs and body. but she does have hair on the pubic area. cleanly shaven and/or waxed -- depending how she feels on the day. HOWEVER, she is not put off by body hair or pelvic hair. she considers them natural occurrences. for herself, though, she prefers to be well-maintained.

Head Hair: None. Buzzed. Short. Medium. Long. Very Long. Asymmetrical Cut.

Color: deep red wine colour; cabernet sovereign is the closest semblance.

Style: she typically has it down because she adores the length which reaches to her knees. since her hair is thick, she has it layered and curled to accentuate the curly-wavy hair she has.

Eye color: emerald

Details: her eye colour can differ depending how she's feeling. if she's relaxed, her eyes are typically a shade of dark emerald green with faint speckles of lighter shades of green and a HINT of red flakes. if she's irritated, they are eerily brighter to a jade shade. however, if she's looking at something that she's attracted to ( romantically & sexually ), they darkened into a forest green. additionally, when she's in a state of immense hunger and/or anger, the scleras are black and her irises are a deep red colour; pupils can disappear completely or are black. but when her body is on the brink of shutting down or in extreme stress as she uses her abilities extensively, they are completely black with black veins cracking around her eyes and along the temples and downward to her cheeks. furthermore, on rare occasions, she'll reveal her void eyes; cosmic burning embers and glowing white pupils.

Scars: See Other Information below ( FASHION ). she does have another scar ( two if i want to be technical ), right between her breasts where she had taken a stake straight through and it punctured all the way out her back where there's another scar. these are the scars she cannot get rid of.

FASHION

Fashion Style: Vintage. Traditional. Casual. Artsy. Vibrant. Geeky/Nerdy. Tomboy. Sporty. Trendy. Preppy. Girly. Bohemian. Elegant. Formal. Grunge. Punk. Rocker. Gothic.

Other: amelia finds herself leaning more to dark aesthetics and dark & elegant couture. she's deeply fond of the goth and metal community. from the romantic to edwardian goth then to over sized band shirts and leather jackets with unique black boots or heels; either custom made or high-quality made. although, she prefers to wear horror t-shirts and band shirts in the privacy in her own home after being stripped from her tight-fitted clothing. either way, she loves dark aesthetic no matter what. OH, let's not forget she also loves to wear pieces of latex in her wardrobe/outfits. whether it's dress, chokers, pants. latex is a wonderful piece to utilize in her wardrobes.

Color Palette: black is primarily the main colour for her wardrobe. but she loves deep reds & greens. even her undergarments are black and dark shades of reds.

Piercings: cute little vampire fangs piercings on her nipples. and she has several piercings on each ear. a couple ranging from 20 to 16 gauge.

Tattoos: some tattoos, but she has her sons’ names on the inside of her right wrist. runes symbols and spells scattered around her body. (i will make a psd/post about her tattoos and piercings at a later time. )

Other Information: has two scar lines across the bridge of her nose; one connecting from one apple of the cheek to the other whereas the second (2nd) one is a bit shorter (1/4" - 1/2" shorter in length); the scar fairly raised on the skin -- seemed self-inflicted.

EXPRESSION

General Facial Expression: typically a neutral expression; or a resting bitch face/deadpanned. but will also have TINY smirk on her face some of the time.

Default Body Language: closed off with arms closest to her whether at her sides or crossed over her chest. when she's sitting, she sits with regality to it. if she's bored, she will tilt her head to one side with a slight narrow eyes. it depends on how she feels, honestly. it changes. however, usually she is closed off.

General Movements: as she walks, she walks with purpose. as if she's prowling, hunting in the night and searching for her next prey. she exudes confidence and refined elegance.

NOTABLE FOR RP

Presence: it depends how she feels, honestly. though, in general, people would assume she's unimposing due to her short stature. but she is intimidating because of the way she carries herself with confidence and elegance. akin to someone of royal status. she's cold, indifferent with a stare that would pin one down if she notices someone. it can quite stifling in a way, with the way she carries herself. it's like she wants to devour anyone that comes in contact with her. her eyes are almost always half-lidded like she's has a look of pure disdain for someone despite being short. but if she tolerates someone or loves them, she lowers her guard a bit and becomes a bit more affectionate.

Appearance: she is well-kept, tidy. despite being in her dark, alternative attire that consists of metal accents like chains and spikes, her entire appearance is clearly well maintained. her makeup could be considered as work-place goth with minimal exaggerated contouring. just simple smokey black-red eyeshadow, black lined eyes, trimmed & shaped brows and with whatever lip colour she desired that particular day. however, when she's out and about and NOT at work, she dresses to the nines with whatever she's feeling that day. it could be an attire of latex with velvet or chains and buckles, spikes, etc. just overall, she's a tidy person.

Scent: amelia emanates a concoctions of a scent that lingers and captures the air she's in. it's an haunting amalgamation of a cosmic allure, drenched in iron with the amount of ichor she ingests. if you're near her, her mysterious scent devours your senses and self with the way it clings to someone. yet it seems forbidden, inhuman and otherworldly. it's too unique to pinpoint the smell exactly. it's like it's a whisper of an ancient era that long since passed from eons ago. it's suffocating yet has such an intoxicating allure. it's both enticing and unsettling just like her persona because she's not what she seems. it is similar to a pareidolia or the uncanny valley with the way she seems human and sounds human. of course, her scent would emphasize her character. it leaves a mark in the back of your mind, slowly consuming you just like the creature she is. she's sweet, yet tart like black cherries but with a hint of something floral like black parrot tulip.

Voice Description: she has an elegant, sophisticated tone that takes on a darker, seductive quality. she sounds playful. has that sensuality, alluring touch. it can be quite melodic as she speaks with different pitches and elongated vowels and tones. and it has a hint of smokiness around the edges of certain words. example, click here.

Accent: yes / no

More information: she didn't have an accent in the very beginning. she could only mimic the words from the tribesmen that "raised" her. she seemed detached from the world and the language around her. it's uncanny where it would raise the hairs on someone's skin. despite not having a human accent, amelia developed a combination of tsakonian/doric greek & received pronunciation english accents.

Speech Mannerisms: since she has a dual accent, sometimes her rp dialect is more pronounced in certain words such as long 'a' for day or short 'i' in sit or a soft 's' in measure. additionally, in rp, she aspirates the 'th's in words like think. whereas her tsakonian/doric accent, her 'o's are rounded more so as an 'oh'. for the letter gamma ( or 'y' ), it comes out more as a 'ch' in a guttural sort of way like 'ch' of the german word bach. her speech will flow in a melodic yet expressive way where it rises and falls in certain pitches and tones with her doric accent but her rp helps when it comes to enunciating and emphasizing in a clear, refined manner. for example, she will place some stress emphasis words for distinctive accentuation like detail pronounced as de-TAIL for rp. in taskonian/doric accent, she will add stresses on the next-to-last syllables like philosophy as phi-LOS-o-phy. and when she gets excited or angry, she speaks faster and hissing her words.

#and ι'll ғear no evιl вecaυѕe ι'м вlιnd тo ιт all [headcanon]

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colleenmurphy · 1 year

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"Colleen..."

"You don't ever get to call me that ever again."

An audible sigh as Dave Sullivan shifts from foot to foot nervously. He had broken her heart in front of virtually everyone they knew plus some summer people so he deserved everything she could throw at him and more, he rationalized with himself.

"Mary..Miss Murphy.."

"Mary'll do. Spill it because I've got shit to do today, Mr. Sullivan."

He noticed that the woman he remembered was gone. Her soft curves had melted away and in its place there before him stood a woman that was akin to every legend of a battle ready warrior he'd ever heard. Her body had toned and firmed and she was much more tan that he'd seen her in either of their lives. Her eyes even seemed to change from their luminous green to a light blue green that reminded him of tropical waters. Her long dark hair had lightened a little in the sun revealing its hidden red undertones to the naked eye. Even in the beat up t-shirt advertising Guinness beer to the cut offs and flip flops she wore he knew that he had to choose his words wisely. His jaw still ached from the last time he'd opened his mouth.

"Florida was good to you wasn't it?"

The rhythmic polishing she was doing to the bar top stopped and then started again, this time harder as if she was about to wear a hole into the top. Her jaw was set in a way he'd never seen. She brought her eyes up to his and pinned him to the spot.

"Out with it!"

Her words rang clear as a church bell in the empty tavern.

"I just wanted you to have the original paperwork for the bar. Lawyers got all the signatures he needs to make this official. I..I can't tell you how sorry I am. About everything."

She had gone back to putting clean glasses up on the over hang and she nodded.

"Y'know I'm sorry too..."

For a second Dave's heart leapt into his throat.

Would she take me back?

He wondered to himself as he watched her work. This time emptying ashtrays. The last of the ashes swept off the bar top she took out her own cigarette case from her shorts pocket. He noticed that she had painted her nails a very vibrant shade of red. Flicking the gold tone zippo with her initials engraved in script on it she took a deep inhale.

"I thought that we were going to grow old and grey together. Raise a family, run this place die here."

He now knew she wasn't smoking just any normal cigarette. The heady smoke enveloped him as her arms once did once upon a time. He felt himself being pulled closer.

What the hell..

Grabbing a bottle from the second shelf up he watched her pour herself two fingers of Bacardi 151. He had only seen her drink when her father had passed. She took another deep drag from her cigarette and a generous sip of her drink before she sat down on of the Naugahyde barstools.

"Now..I'm just sorry I ever met you."

If you must go I wish you luck You'll never walk alone Take care, my love Miss you, love

The sound system came blaring on overhead nearly making him jump out of his skin. She snorted as she finished her drink and held out her cigarette after taking one last puff.

"Jesus. Didn't think it was that loud last night. Think you may need this more than me. See you when I see you."

He watched as Mary got up and walked quietly into the back kitchen area. He was left with nothing to do but to stand there. His chest seized for a moment and he could have sworn he'd heard something shatter.

It was with that David Sullivan realized that he had lost the best woman to ever walk into his life. As she disappeared into the back he saw all the could haves that would have made their life here in the town they're grown up in. He now knew that he had lost his only chance at true contentment and happiness. He made the trek back out to his pick up, loaded down with everything he owned and set out southward. Flicking through the radio stations as he pulled away he thought he saw her one last time.

She wore faded jeans and soft black leather She had eyes so blue they looked like weather When she needed me I wasn't around That's the way it goes, it'll all work out

He was not the praying kind, he conversed with God regularly as he put it but he wasn't one for strict prayer. He pulled to the side of the highway in Annisquam.

"Please let C..Mary find true happiness. Let it all work out for her."

#drabbles #Dave Sullivan x Mary Colleen Murphy

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mickgaydolenz · 2 years

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I’m probably late to this whole top 5 thing but how about your top 5 colors (colors are really important to me)

dude what a cool ask!!! also it is never too late my friend 💖✌️😊

1. Pink -she is everything to me, which is hilarious because looking at my wardrobe or knowing me as a person you would never ever think she’s my girl, y’know??? but yes, pink is top tier best colour ever 💖💖💖. i love violently neon pink, soft pastel pinks, and everything in between. i’ve yet to meet a pink i don’t love

2. Black -okay like yeah i know boring, obvious, maybe not even a colour?? BUT it is such a versatile shade dude. want to look cool? put some black on. want to create some really dark art? use some black ink. she got me through art school and taught me just how important tonality is to art

3. Purple -when i say purple i specifically mean lavenders and magenta’s. essentially anything on the lighter spectrum of purple i like! it gives off such a calming auara, it’s soothing to look at 😌

4. Green -as opposed to purple, i specifically like the darker shades of green, such as emerald and forest. although that’s not to be confused with liking greens with heavy brown undertones because i am VERY much so not a fan 😒. those rich, vibrant greens always give me secret, deep wooded, fantasy vibes

5. Red/Orange -but I don’t mean as individual colours, i mean them specifically as the intertwined palette of autumn. crisp red leaves my beloved, bright orange pumpkins my darlings, spooky cozy vibes all around <333

#thanks for the ask!!! it was really cool to think about why i like specific colours so much :)#rhubarb asks

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inkedtae · 2 years

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Color themes in RAC (3)

“ Brows furrowed, you pout, “What’s wrong with how I dress?”

“White suits you so much better.”

Is that why all the dresses he bought you were some sort of shade of white? Confusion taking over your features, you look back at him over your shoulder and argue, “But you wear black too.”

“This isn’t about me.” “ (Geraldson Residence)

Taeddy tells her that she’s changed the way she dresses. He’s noticed it, he’s observed her, and he doesn’t like it. Despite being a bit confused by his reaction, Angel doesn’t think much of it.

However we know Taeddy loves white on Angel, or soft pastel colors. Pastel colors, like soft pink are girly, feminine and cute. It suits Angel. Black is tainted, dark and mysterious. It doesn’t suit her in the slightest. In D-D-D-Dim Sum, Angel wear a white silk dress chosen by Taeddy. Silk is a sensual, sexy material. White represents youth, purity etc… you get my point. He loves showing off her curves, while still maintaining that innocence that he loves so much about her. I live for it lmao. I previously mentioned that Taeddy loves the combination of soft, feminine colors with mature, suggestive materials. In Lunch break, Taeddy buys three different lingerie sets for Angel. One is white, one is blue and the last one is pink and made out of silk. Blue is a soft color that represents peace and tranquillity (LOL right after they argued). Pink is very feminine and she wears silk again here hehe !

Here is a brief analysis of the outfits of the characters of RAC that I haven’t previously talked about. Also it’s very much possible not everything has a meaning ! Again I was just bored and having fun^^.

Geraldon Residence Taeddy - brown cardigan: gonna be honest, I 100% didn’t know what brown represents in literature, I had to Google that one. So apparently it’s comfort and stability ? I’m not sure what to make of it in this chapter though.

Dim Sum Taeddy - BLACK car, that color again, with green undertones, idk if the green means anything though

Marco Polo Marco Lee - beige suit: perhaps symbolizes simplicity and calmness (source). So Marco’s a pretty simple man ? Idk we haven’t seen enough of him to tell (I don’t really want to see more of him though). Also I sometimes think of beige as a dirty white. A fake white, a tainted white. Still don’t really know what to make of those observations though.

Actually nvm “…His kind eyes…” you described his eyes as kind, so maybe he’s just a simple, nice man… at least at first glance ???

Marco Polo Taehyung - light blue suit: Calm, peace, tranquility, harmony, unity, trust (source). It’s so ironic to me that he wears blue on the day he shows obvious hostility and jealousy towards Marco LMAO.

“ “You trust me?” he asks, pretending to whine the way you do.” “ again there’s trust here ?

Buzz Off Angel - red lace: again passion, desire intensity. Perhaps the first time Angel initiates something sexual with Taeddy, I think it’s a fitting color for the given situation. She kept cus it was expensive, so maybe she doesn’t like the piece that much (cus it’s not truly her style??) but feels expensive and classy in it. Again Angel’s underlying insecurities resurface. She wants to surprise him by looking sexy in a way she thinks he might like (again looking at the women he’s slept with in the past, it’s unsurprising).

100% sure Taeddy finds Angel hot as fuck no matter what she wears, or what color she wears but he’s definitely got a soft spot for white and pastels.

Buzz Off Angel - bunny nightgown: Just wanted it to mention it cus it’s just so cute and so Angel.

Lunch Break - Bangtan Building: got too lazy to analyze it but I think there’s nothing to tell really. Primarily blue and grey, symbolizing technology and modernity. It’s fitting.

Lunch Break - Taeddy’s Office: again got too lazy. Just gonna say that the fact that his office is so high up obviously means that he’s powerful and ‘above’ others. “The tiny cars look like toys, and the people like frantic insects.” Toys and insects - wow. It’s very hot, an overwhelmingly powerful man. 😭😭

Lunch Break - Taeddy: long black coat, black sweater, black slacks, nothing more to say.

Road trip tae: grey hoodie and black slacks (and black boxer briefs LOL) so like grey can be for modernity I guess. I’m not sure if there’s an underlying meaning behind this one outfit tho?

Not me giggling to myself as I read this because wow have you been spot on with a lot of what is written here! You’re totally right about how Taehyung is observing her and about what he likes to see her in. I explain that quite a bit in the last two asks you sent.

Now for the rest of the outfits. I am gonna go through them like you had, and just reaffirm what is correct or what is simply on the right track!

⤜ Geraldson Residence ⤑ I did want to emulate a very comforting and stable presence! I wanted to give him a warmer hue, and thought brown would be the best shade to do so.

⤜ Dim Sum ⤑ So, I have been creating this character in Taehyung’s image and wanted to make a little nod at his ‘real’ self with the notions of green here. I imagine the same shade of green inside the car to be the same shade as his microphone. ⤑ The idea of a black car here is just to reaffirm his mature personality and character.

⤜ Marco Polo ⤑ Everything you said about Marco Lee is pretty much correct. I also think of beige as a dirty white and your thoughts on that are 10/10. Don’t second guess yourself on it. He does have kind eyes, but you find that he is not really such a stand up guy. Not like Taehyung, any way. ⤑ Everything about Taehyung here is correct. Blue was meant to be tranquil and trusting. Both beige and blue are standard polo game fashion for high society like this as well. ⤜ Buzz Off ⤑ All correct!!

⤜ Lunch Break ⤑ Again, all correct. Blue and grey was also a nod at their song ‘Blue and Grey’ which I think Taehyung had a really big hand in writing. His office is for sure meant to reflect his power as well!

⤜ Roadtrip ⤑ Taehyung just likes muted colours. The comfort of the hoodie is meant to juxtapose the structure of the slacks and show his transition from the city to the country life.

#letters #blipbloopiwannaeat #rotten angelcake kth #red string theories

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mandysxmuses · 5 days

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//OK SO. As promised. A part 2 with the Keeper color meanings

Vergessene should be a pretty obvious one. His color is a bold royal blue and it's basically following similar reasoning to Inside Out, blue = really sad

(This being said, depression is much more than just feeling sad despite the misconception, blue is just a good color to represent it imo)

While I don't want Vergessene to be the sort of character where depression is his entire personality and defines his character completely, I can't deny it is a huge aspect of it. Renee infantilizes his condition and makes it worse, he's almost always trying to end his own life, and he was quite literally created by the Void to give his life for other people

So I found that blue was the best color for him since it is the most straightforward symbolism for feeling oof

Since I already did Renee, next in line is Walter! And of course as Todd likes to never stop complaining about, his color is pink.

Part of this was because my entire idea was making a really polite, sweet vampire character that likes candy and desserts, and that is a color often associated with those things

But pink also isn't far off from the color red, which for Walter would obviously link to blood and his potential to be monstrous, since he does have intense reactions to anger. So yes, a very sweet but also ANGY boi

Then we have Knirschen! His color is black, and personally I associate that with hopelessness and a lack of control. These themes are pretty strong with Knirschen. He is basically the only "killer" character who has no agency whatsoever in his killings, to the point he will even eat Verheiler. He's literally chained and caged in his own area. Black is a color I wanted to emphasize that feeling, and it's present in the areas of other characters as well. Todlich's most dark and dreary area, Shade, is one which also embodies a feeling of a lack of control and despair.

With all that sadness out of the way it's time for VERHEILERRRRR oh my shamelessly self indulgently made Bunny Boy

Mint is a really cute pastel green color and I thought it would do well with a soft character. It's a color already well associated with life and health, so giving that and gold to Verheiler was basically something that didn't need much thought

You know from the second you meet that fluffy mint man you are in good hands, and those colors represent that. Verheiler is best boy I will die on that hill

Then we have the infamous, incredible, and good-looking Captain Schatz! (And Catnip) I chose cyan for his color because it is a really bright, popping color that immediately sticks out, and Schatz is a big bright goofball

But it's also worth noting that most of his clothes match more closely to Vergessene's blue, which, as I have already discussed, means depresso

Not exactly subtle symbolism but

Catnip, meanwhile, has ginger fur

This has no connection to Emma or Toddie, I just thought it would contrast with Schatz's color scheme (making something seem a bit more "off" about Catnip with Schatz) and the sight red undertone has the even less subtle symbolism of DEVILS, HELL, THE SPOOPY DEMONS

Lovely sh🐁 t right there. NEXT

Begleiter is primarily silver in coloration. I don't think I gave this color to him in hopes of symbolizing anything, more just to emphasize he's a robot trying to learn to be more human

I did think about giving him more color as that happened, but I like the idea of letting him keep the silver, like he doesn't need to lose that to be a full person

Kanonier is red, and I think some of the reasoning for this carries on from Renee. Both characters serve some form of "justice" in the Void, as flawed as that sense of justice may be, but also I just thought a red sparkly cowboy would be EPIC

Serpentin has a darker, deeper green than Verheiler's mint. I wanted him to sort of look like a snake you'd find in the jungle, and the coloration represents that. He's something people may want to avoid but he's just a good sweet pea who wants to make friends

THERE ARE TECHNICALLY OTHER CHARACTERS I COULD GET INTO BUT I HAVEN'T WRITTEN THEM ENOUGH ON THIS BLOG TO BE CONFIDENT WITH THEM (but will write about them if asked)

#M; The Keepers #ooc #//Man I just realized after all this I didn't get into Clarice (MC's) colors AH WELL #suicide mention tw

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undertheashtree · 9 months

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Mint Chocolate Chip, but Make It Grunge.

Hello there! I’m back with a new BYOP, and this one is pretty straightforward. Green and brown is such an underrated color combination in makeup. I love doing a brown eye with a green lip, or vice versa, or doing a neutral eye with a bright green eyeliner in my waterline. Hell, sometimes I’ll even bronze up my face (something I don’t do very often) and then swipe some green highlighter on the high points of my face.

So, having said that, sometimes I get the urge to build myself a green and brown eyeshadow palette to play with. I originally wanted to go more minty with the greens (as the title of this post suggests, I was originally planning more of a mint chocolate chip inspired palette), but as I was swatching and deciding what to put in the palette, I found myself more drawn to the grungier greens. Even still, I did want some brightness from the greens, so I did a mixture of brighter greens and grungier, brownish greens.

The pictures of the palette were taken in natural light, which washed out the colors a bit but I tried to edit them in such a way that you’d get a more accurate representation of the color story. This was also only supposed to be a 9-pan palette, but I got carried away.

I started off by picking my browns because I knew I wanted a really rich, dark, cool-toned brown, and I ended up choosing two finishes for this particular color, one matte and one metallic. I also wanted a matte taupe, and ended up picking a really foiled metallic taupe to accompany that, as well. As I sifted through my browns, Lithium was calling out to me, so I added it to my group. It’s a bit warmer than my other browns, but it has some green/blue glitter in the finish and thought it would make an interesting addition to the final palette.

The greens are where I got carried away. Green is one of my favorite colors, but especially in eyeshadow, and I have such a lovely, diverse collection of greens that I felt compelled to add a few different shades to the palette. As I wrote earlier, I intended to go in more of a minty green direction but decided to go with more plant-like greens to start with. I will also take any excuse to include Chantilly (bottom row, second shade) in a BYOP, so that was the first shadow I picked. It’s got a brownish/greyish base color with a foiled olive green finish, so it tends to play really well with browns.

This is when I decided not to go the mint route, although I added a touch of minty green with Hint (middle row, last shade). I added that particular shade after pulling in Untamed (middle row, fourth shade), which is the most cool-toned green in the palette. It works well with the warmer, more yellow greens in the palette, but I also wanted a way to blend it while maintaining its coolness.

I followed that up by picking a more leaf green matte, a chartreuse matte, and a green-undertone light brown. It was then that I decided to make this a 15-pan palette because I couldn’t bring myself to whittle the palette down. This left me with four spots to fill, so I opted for some metallics.

My first choice was the multichrome in the center of the palette, called June Bug from Chaos Makeup. It shifts from orange, gold, green, and a bit of teal. I’m not sure how well it will work with the entire palette but I couldn’t help myself and added it in. Marvel (top row, last shade) was also calling out to me, and I think it pairs really well with the entire palette, so I was happy to include it. Finally, I pulled my two favorite green duochromes. One is more of a tan base—although on me, it matches my skin tone pretty well—with a bright green shift and the other is a soft reddish brown base with more of a blue-green shift.

All in all, I really like how this one turned out! The greens feel a bit eclectic, but I think the browns really ground (no pun intended) the color story and bring a cohesiveness to it all. I’ll leave you with some swatches and a list of the shade names, as well as which brand and palette they’re from.

List of eyeshadows in the palette (left to right):

Top row: Ray - Beauty Bay Wilderness palette Figure - Blend Bunny The Dollhouse palette Twig - Anastasia Beverly Hills Sultry palette Trance - Tarte Make Believe in Yourself palette Marvel - Tarte Make Believe in Yourself palette

Middle row: Alive - Blend Bunny Surge palette Lithium - Urban Decay Moondust palette June Bug - Chaos Makeup multichrome Untamed - Anastasia Beverly Hills Subculture palette Hint - Blend Bunny Surge palette

Bottom row: Leaf - Beauty Bay Wilderness palette Chantilly - Blend Bunny The Dollhouse palette Coconut - Beauty Bay Sunset Horizons palette Madame - Blend Bunny The Dollhouse palette Crystal - Beauty Bay Book of Magic palette

Thanks for reading! If you’re interested, I also have a YouTube channel where I do lots of low-buy/no-buy content, BYOPs, and other makeup-related videos. Here’s the link, and thank you in advance, if you check it out!

My channel Under the Ash Tree:

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sukoshimikan · 1 year

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Character info sheet: Modified from original. Link to og will be in comments

Character Chart Character’s full name: Lily Fjola Anaphiel Reason or meaning of name: Pure, violet flower, chief seal bearer Character’s nickname: Little Owl Reason for nickname: Dainty and quiet Birth date: March 6th 1677

Physical appearance Age: 345 How old does he/she appear: Early to mid twenties Weight: 105 with wings tucked, 130 with wings out Height: 4'10 Body build: Lean with just noticeable muscle definition in abdomen Shape of face: heart Eye color: Lilac, shade changes depending on mood Glasses or contacts: Neither Skin tone: Alabaster with cool undertone Distinguishing marks: Large white wings with golden feather tips Predominant features: Broad cheekbones, full lips Hair color: Snowy white =, shows gold under light Type of hair: Soft and wavy, ankle length Hairstyle: Either down or in a simple braid studded with wild flowers Voice: Ethereal and soft Overall attractiveness: Almost frighteningly so Physical disabilities: None Usual fashion of dress: Bohemian or armor Favorite outfit: Long sage green maxi skirt with a crochet crop top Jewelry or accessories: Gold eternity style collar

Personality Good personality traits: Caring, fiercely protective, loyal, empathetic Bad personality traits: Quick to anger, jealous, mischievous, lustful Mood character is most often in: Calm Sense of humor: Twisted by human standards Character’s greatest joy in life: Defending her flock and/ or spending time with her soul mate Silva. Character’s greatest fear: Losing her flock Why? She was abandoned as a fledgling, her new flock is everything to her. What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil? Losing Silva would send her into a spiral of depression and madness. Character is most at ease when: There's peace and no skirmishes Most ill at ease when: Word reaches her that enemies have been spotted nearby. Enraged when: One of her flockmates has been hurt or another nephelim attempts to touch Silva Depressed or sad when: A flockmate is slain in battle or she's abandoned again Priorities: Family, protecting the ones she cares about Life philosophy: Love deeply, fight like there's no tomorrow If granted one wish, it would be: An end to the fighting and a new era of peace Why? She's tired of the bloodshed and loss Character’s soft spot: Silva, wolf cubs, fledglings, and bears that have bulked up winter. Is this soft spot obvious to others? Very much so Greatest strength: Her ability to come back from any wound, mental or physical and still keep fighting Greatest vulnerability or weakness: Falls quickly and loves far too deeply. Biggest regret: Not recognizing there was a traitor amongst the flock sooner Minor regret: Pledging herself as a member of the guard and forsaking her title as a royal Biggest accomplishment: Beating her commander Samuel Valarin in an archery contest Minor accomplishment: Accepted into Madame Plingette's School of Botany Past failures he/she would be embarrassed to have people know about: Her first time baking a pie resulted in the oven catching on fire. Samuel Valarin is the only other one that knows and vowed to never let her forget. Why? Pride Character’s darkest secret: There is enough blood on her hands to fill all the lakes of Niphime. Does anyone else know? Silva is the only one who knows about Lily's past.

Favorites Color: Pthalo green Least favorite color: Burnt sienna Music: Classical, jazz, folk Food: Fresh fruit, soft cheeses, roasted meat Literature: Poetry Form of entertainment: Playing the lute or hunting Expressions: Very expressive eyebrows, toothy grins, soft smiles Mode of transportation: Flying, canoe, or horseback Most prized possession: Sterling silver preening tool with amethyst inlay

Habits Hobbies: Hunting, gardening, paiting and dance Plays a musical instrument? Lute and piano Plays a sport? No, she does enjoy sparring though How he/she would spend a rainy day: Dancing in the rain or cuddling with Silva by a fire Spending habits: Spends too much on little treats Smokes: No Drinks: Loves wine and liquors from the fae realm Other drugs: occasionally mushrooms What does he/she do too much of? Reading in the stables and running off to forage What does he/she do too little of? According to Samuel, chores Extremely skilled at: Painting and plucking Samuel's nerves Extremely unskilled at: Knowing when to back down from a fight and baking Nervous tics: Twirling lock of hair around finger, shifting wings,jaw clenching Usual body posture:Hands clasped behind back, legs shoulder width apart

Traits Optimist or pessimist? Neither, more of a realist Introvert or extrovert? Very much extroverted Daredevil or cautious? Daredevil Logical or emotional? Emotional Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat? Mix of both, orderly chaos Prefers working or relaxing? Relaxing if possible Confident or unsure of himself/herself? Very much confident and self assured Animal lover? Has an affinity for wild animals

Relationships with others Opinion of other people in general: Selfish, crude, boring Does the character hide his/her true opinions and emotions from others? She's honest to a fault at times, if she doesn't like somebody they'll know it quickly Person character most hates: The demon king Solromak Best friend(s): Samuel Valarin Love interest(s): Silva, (more depending on au) Person character goes to for advice: Samuel Person character feels responsible for or takes care of: Herself Person character feels shy or awkward around: Solromak Person character openly admires: Silva Person character secretly admires: Samuel

#dr lily anaphiel

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reliefmmorg · 2 years

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Mac lipstick shades pink

Mac lipstick shades pink skin#

Mac lipstick shades pink free#

Mac lipstick shades pink mac#

Once you finish inserting the solution, use a hair dryer to dry it and come to shape. If you wish to recycle or reuse your old lipstick holders, all you need to do is clean them, mush a new lipstick and insert the mushed portion into the old lipstick holder. The process of refilling lipsticks is the same for most brands. Provides immediate and long-term moisture.

Mac lipstick shades pink mac#

There is no restriction in terms of the products/collections you can file a return request for. Explore the versatility and vibrancy of the colour pink in the MAC Re-Think Pink Lustreglass Lipstick collection - including soft corals, romantic raspberries and cant-miss mauves. If you buy a MAC product and don’t like it, you can return the unused portion for exchange or a refund. Most lipsticks or lip glosses expire within 1 year with regular use. Yeah, like any other makeup product, MAC lipsticks too have expiry dates. What is the best MAC lipstick for pale skin?įor those with a fair complexion, the best MAC lipsticks to go for include Ruby Woo, Relentlessly Red, Dance With Me (Retro Matte collection), and French Silk (satin collection).

Mac lipstick shades pink free#

You can get MAC lipsticks free by returning 6 primary packaging containers through mail or to a MAC store. Owing to its enormous popularity, Ruby Woo is considered to be the best selling lipstick of all time. I used with Plum lip pencil per keriblair for a less bright look (pictured) and Edge to Edge lip pencil for more pink. Can be swiped on alone for a quick brighten up or add liner to fine tune look. What is the best-selling lipstick of all time? Love this formula of lipstick and Do Not Disturb is a great pink shade. Yes, very much so! The ‘Back-to-MAC’ program allows customers to pick a lipstick (at times, other items too) for free, provided they return 6 primary packaging containers via mail or to a MAC store.

Mac lipstick shades pink skin#

The Ruby Woo shade by MAC comes with blue undertones and goes well with any skin complexion. The Retro Matte Lipstick collection by MAC lasts the longest up to 8 hours. What is the longest-lasting MAC lipstick? It’s famous across the globe and has even won awards for its classic red shade. The most-loved shade of MAC lipstick is none other than Ruby Woo. However, when you buy something through our retail links, we may earn an affiliate commission.Frequently Asked Questions What is the most popular shade of MAC lipstick? To simplify your search for that petal-soft shade, we've broken down the best nude pink lipsticks based on your skin tone below.Īll products featured on Allure are independently selected by our editors. "I choose a lip liner to complement the skin tone and then blend it into the lip before applying lipstick." This way I have an even canvas to work with," Lavone explains. "I will choose a concealer to neutralize any blue, yellow, green, or purple in the lips. With that perfect shade in hand, application should be a breeze. "When I look at depth and undertones for a soft-toned petal pink lipstick, I start by looking at the natural color of the lips," she explains to Allure. According to bi-coastal makeup artist Lavonne, the selection process thankfully doesn't have to be too difficult. With soft pinks especially, it's important to take your specific skin tone into account, otherwise, you might end with a lip that's way lighter or darker than you wanted. The kind of pink you wear when you want people to notice how put-together you look without thinking you spent a whole lot of effort or time. We're not talking about your bright fuchsias or orchids or Barbie pinks - we mean those soft, subtle pinks that are almost nude but not quite. Finding the perfect pink lipstick can be a balancing act.

#Mac lipstick shades pink

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cind3510 · 2 years

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Colour and Design pt 2

Because this rug will be quite heavy in pattern and motifs I think it would be best to keep the colour palette quite minimal. That being said, I personally dislike neutral colours, especially in centrepieces. As this rug is intended to be walked on and used, it would be best if the colours are darker or more muted tones to disguise the dirt and wear and tear of the rug as time goes on.

I know that it will entirely depend on the tones and undertones of the actual wool that I choose, but to save myself time in store and to branch out from predictable colour schemes, I’ve created these palettes using the Coolors websites from images across the internet.

Draped Bedroom

This was the first image I found that I thought would be useful for this project. I like the combination of bright midtones, dark warm tones and muted soft colours, which is a pattern that will be seen throughout these palettes. I think this palette would be useful due to its analogous scheme so all of the colours look good next to each other, without competing.

Pink Couch

This scheme is similar to the one above except more pink based rather than red. The contrasting green would be useful to create interest in the piece but would need thought as to its placement as it is so different to the other colours. I like the use of soft pinkish-beige as the lightest colour, rather than the cool toned grey above.

Pirate

I think with this scheme you can certainly see a theme develop. Again, muted pink, deep red and brown, a gold-ish colour and a light grey. As much as I like these colours, I think this is one of the weaker palettes in the collection as it is almost a copy of others without it’s own personality. I think it might be due to a lack of a bright middle colour to define it. It only has darks and lights and I think it is detrimental to the feeling of this colour scheme.

Cowboy on Fire

This palette is very different to the others that have come before. Its inclusion of bright yellow and blues gives a very different almost nautical theme, especially when compared with the others. I do like the blues, a lot of things in my house are blue so it would fit in well with what I already have, but I think the yellow is too bright and dominates the rest of the colours.

Anya

This colour scheme is almost monochromatic as it includes mostly browns and the muted mauve. Although it fits in with the dark warm tones, clear mid tones and muted light tones I do think it is almost too understated and some of the detail may be lost when used in the rug.

Hafen von Triest

I like that this scheme blends cool and warm tones throughout. I think the inclusion of lavender and blueberry colours is good to balance out the richness of the red and deepness of the black. However, I don’t know whether the lavender and black would look good next to each other as they may be too harsh when compared with the rest of the colours.

Castle Kilcoe

I really like this scheme. I think it has good balance between the light and dark, cool and warm. I think the light gold is a good blending shade and the bright light blue helps to provide emphasis. The red and brown are a little too similar but that is more due to the limitation of the image and can probably be figured out when the wool is bought.

I Had Some Time Alone

This scheme is similar to the Cowboy on Fire palette above, just a little warmer in tone. Of the two I think I prefer this one as I think the bright colours overall work better together than just the lemon yellow in the other palette. However I’m not overly drawn to either of them as I think I prefer the overtly warm colours in the other colour schemes I’ve shown.

After a Close Call

As much as I love the richness of the colours in this painting, when isolated they become too chaotic without form. The bright mid tones dominate this scheme and the black is too heavy against the taupe.

Cowboy in the Clouds

I think this is another favourite. The balance of the colours is just beautiful. No one colour overpowers the others nor do any fade into the background. It also has a nice balance of warm and cool tones, and the lavender from Hafen von Triest is back.

Maker Hotel

My final palette. This scheme, I think, is too dark and muted. There is no real brightness and although the colours are all quite different from each other they still seem to blend into one another. I think the same shades have been captured by the Kilcoe Castle scheme, or even the After a Close Call scheme, without the muddiness present here.

Final Thoughts

The schemes that spoke to me the most were those that had a good balance of light and dark, warmth and coolness whilst maintaining a good contrast. I’m including the palettes below without the pictures attached. I intend to go to the Morris and Sons wool store in Sydney next week to buy the wool that I’ll use in the rug and I intend to use these palettes to make my decision a bit easier. Overall I think this was a useful exercise as it introduced me to colour combinations I probably wouldn’t have chosen on my own but that do speak to me and will be useful for the end use of the project. Ultimately the final colours will depend on the wool and the colours that are available, however Morris and Sons have a very wide selection of both wool types and colours.

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pompadourpink · 2 years

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hi mom i follow u on ig and i really love the way you present yself but whenever i try to mimick someones style (fashion makeup etc) i look like crap lmao i was wondering if you had any advice im tired of not liking the way i look and i don't have anyone to help nor a lot of $$ :// thanks!

Hello dear,

You can't steal someone's style and hope that it will work for you because there are reasons why something will look good or bad on someone, such as their undertone, contrast, Kibbe body type, etc. (disclaimer: this will be highly summarised).

#1. Undertone: you can be cool (you have a lot of pink), warm (gold), neutral, or olive (green) and this has nothing to do with your skin colour. You can take a test online to figure yours by checking your veins, ability to tan or burn, putting your face next to coloured fabric and seeing how you look, etc. Certain shades (clothes, makeup, hair colour) will make your face look grey. A turmeric dress would look very flattering on Beyoncé but make Anne Hathaway appear sick and tired.

Good news: you can fake it if you don't like yours!

#2. Contrast: it can be low or high, depending on your skin, hair and eye colour - if they all look the same, it's low (Beyoncé), if there are strong differences, it's high (Anne). A low contrast will look better in more muted, similar colours (ex: cream and sage) for a softer look and a high contrast in deeper, unrelated shades (cream and emerald) for a more striking look. Your undertone and skin colour have to be taken into consideration here: I doubt Beyoncé would look great in sage.

#3. Kibbe is harder to understand and figure out but roughly your body can belong to one of twelve categories based on your height, fat distribution and the sharpness or softness of your features and this tells you what will look better on you. The spectrum goes from romantic (rounder, smaller, Elizabeth Taylor type) to dramatic (long, angular, Tilda Swinston vibe) - the perfect middle is classic (Grace Kelly).

And that explains why borrowing a piece of garment from a friend that's not shaped like you will backfire. If you don't have a waist and are handed a tube dress, no matter how pretty and fit you are, you will look like a little sausage.

So it's not like you look like trash, it's that you don't know what to go for. Remember to check out secondhand clothing websites, you don't need to break the bank: there are plenty of wonderful brand new items being sold online because the person realised it didn't look good on them! (There are other types of criteria available, like the season, saturation, etc. but you can cross that bridge when you get there).

Love,

Mum

#ask #malks

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wkemeup · 3 years

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Sunrise (6)

summary: After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you. (Modern AU) pairings: bucky x reader chapter word count: 6.7k warnings: PTSD, flashbacks/panic attack, a hint into our girl’s past, the sweetest fluff, another book rec 🧡 series masterlist / series playlist

“So, you really melted ice man's heart, huh?”

You pouted, throwing Sam a warning glare as you turned back to the stack of books on the cart.

It had only been a few days since the night on the park bench and you had seen Bucky nearly every evening since. Most of the time you’d find him waiting by the chairs at the entrance to the library for you to get off shift, hair tucked under a baseball cap and hand brushing down at the thigh of his jeans, like maybe he was nervous enough to find the evidence in his palms. He’d brighten up as you spotted him, a lightness coming over his features. You’d lead him down the residential side streets, through canopied trees and flowerbeds along the sidewalk, to spend a few hours at Luciana’s sipping decaf and nibbling through pastries.

The crowds didn’t bother him as much lately it seemed, or maybe he was getting used to the hustle of rush hour after spending so much time avoiding it. Part of you wondered whether your hand slipping into his and the constant pressure of a slight squeeze had anything to do with it. You wondered if it grounded him like an anchor when his body was eager to float off into space.

He was so impossibly sweet with you; hesitant, like Mrs. Jefferson had said the first day he wandered into the library, but still, there was a lingering charm in it. It sat in the way he looked at you, like he was trying to memorize the lines on your faces, in the way he listened to your long rambles on the latest book you were assigning him, how he had no interest in cutting you off, like maybe he could have listened to you talk for an eternity if you’d let him.

Bucky Barnes was a little rough on his edges, with some fraying seams and broken pieces, but he was still whole – still complete and wonderful and beautiful. He was soft in his undertones, glimpses of a subtle charm and confidence slipping through the cracks in the small moments when he let his guard down. You didn’t know the Bucky before the war that Sam and Steve spoke so fondly of, but you knew the man he was now and well, this Bucky was everything.

“He seems like he’s doing better,” Sam said, a little softer this time as he leaned his back to the book shelf. His arms folded over his chest, a smile resembling a sort of pride pushing up at his cheeks. “Took me months to convince him to leave the apartment long enough to check out the VA and you’ve got him down here visiting you almost every day. He’s walking through rush hour just to see you, Y/n. That’s huge for him! Hell, his face might break from how much he’s been smiling lately...”

You laughed, hushing Sam as an elderly woman shot a pointed stare in his direction. Sam held his arms up in defense.

“He seems happy, Y/n,” Sam finished as you set another book onto the shelf. “Do you get what I’m saying?”

“I get you’re implying that it’s my doing,” you said unconvinced, “but he’s stronger than you give him credit for, Sam. He would have come around on his own. He just needed time. All of you did when you got back. Clearly some more than others. But Bucky... he suffered an immeasurable loss over there. Imagine what that must be like for him to have to readjust to his own body. Of course, he needed time.”

Sam was still smiling at you, nodding along, like maybe you were only proving his point. You believed so strongly in Bucky that it didn’t even cross your mind that maybe it was because of you that he’d started to find himself again. You hadn’t known Bucky when he was holed up in his apartment, shielding himself from the light and drowning in his own anguish. It broke your heart to imagine him sitting alone in a dark, messy apartment, staring at the walls and wishing he were someone else.

You couldn’t imagine him like that because the man you knew was sweet beyond measure and he made your stomach twist into knots from a simple look across the room. It didn’t seem possible that the light could be drained from the blue of his eyes.

“I’m not trying to fix him, Sam,” you mumbled under your breath, keeping your eyes trained on the task at hand. “He doesn’t need fixing. I just... I like him and... I like spending time with him. If that means he’s doing better, if he’s starting to look more like the guy you knew, then... that’s good.”

Sam paused, pursing his lips as he studied your face for the subtle reflexes upon your features. You weren’t sure what he was looking for or maybe it was that he was debating whether to argue with you further on the subject, but eventually he resided to concede, letting out a heavy exhale.

“Just... thank you,” Sam said, relief etched into his voice. “It’s nice having my friend back.”

You looked up at him, a little stunned. “Sam, I haven’t done anything. We haven’t even...um... We aren’t...”

He smiled at you, something genuine, something softer than the cheesy grins you were used to from him. It was a glimpse into who Sam was behind the jokes and the comedic breaks in tension; a man who cared so deeply for the people in his life that he’d cross mountains to see them smile again. He’d come to your aid without so much as a second thought when you’d needed him most, when your world was thrown completely upside down, and here he was again, putting everything he had into making his friend feel whole again.

Sam put a hand on your shoulder and squeezed. “You’ve done more than you realize.”

You stared at him for a moment, a little lost for words. Could just a few extra days spent wandering around the library, sitting across a café table nursing coffee and scones, and curling up on a park bench have that kind of impact? If you let yourself stop to realize how much brighter your days felt when Bucky was in them, maybe you’d understand what Sam meant.

“Besides,” Sam shrugged as his smile drifted, “it’s nice to see you happy again, too. Moving on.”

You swallowed and it tasted of bile. The book nearly slipped from your hand.

Sam chewed on the edge of his lip, a hand swiping over the top of his head. “I know it’s been a few years since we lost—”

“Please— don’t,” you choked out.

Sam bowed his head, nodding, and you could already feel the swell in your throat. You exhaled a tense breath that struggled to push past your lungs and forced yourself to continue restocking the books, concentrating on the alphabetizing and weathered feel of the covers.

“It’s still hard for me to talk about him, too,” Sam admitted, leaning against the shelf. He shoved his hands into his pockets, a frown pushing on his lips that felt so incredibly unnatural to the man you knew. “But the pain of it doesn’t hurt as much when we have reasons to get up in the morning. Reasons to smile, still. Good things to look forward to.”

You nodded, willing yourself not to cry. It had been so long since you let yourself drift into the memory of the man you’d lost, the name behind the membership card of the loved ones left behind to war heavy in your pocket.

“All I’m saying is Bucky’s good for you too, kid,” Sam smiled softly nudging you in the shoulder and tickling your sides until a laugh escaped. You clamped a hand down over your mouth as the two of you earned another pointed stare from the elderly woman lurking in the romance section. Sam raised his hands in defense.

You wiped at your eyes, cheeks burning from grinning. “I could have told you that, you know.”

“Speak of the devil.” Sam nodded over to the top of the staircase where a man emerged, holding onto the banister; a mop of long brown hair swayed down into his face, a dark green army jacket hung over his shoulders with a sleeve draped down at his left side untouched.

Whatever remained of the lump burning in your throat dissipated, the weight in your pocket feeling a little lighter. A smile grew so wide on your checks you��d nearly forgotten the frown that had ached in the very same muscles just moments earlier.

“Bucky! What are you doing here?” you laughed as he approached, a little surprised to see him. You nearly wrapped your arms around him before you stopped yourself. You’d only gone as far to hold his hand and you weren’t even sure he’d be comfortable with it given Sam was standing directly on your left.

“Hey,” he replied nervously, pushing a hand through his hair. It looked noticeably softer, a bit of a shine to it, and you wondered if he’d started to care for it again. It was the first time you’d seen him without the baseball cap on. He exchanged a look with Sam before turning back to you. “You said that it got pretty slow on Thursdays and I just wanted to offer you some company but... seems like that’s already covered.”

“Sam can leave!”

Sam pouted dramatically at you as Bucky started to laugh under his breath. It wrinkled up into his eyes and you saw for a moment what Sam had meant; a brightness had returned to the shimmering shades of the open blue skies in his eyes in favor of the muted and darkened ocean waves you’d seen that first day in the VA.

“That hurts, you know,” Sam whined, hand clutching at the fabric on his chest as if he could reach inside and touch his own heart. “We were friends long before this one wandered on scene.”

“Bye Sam,” you sang, waving him off with a nudging on his back. Hands pressed into his shoulder blades, Sam dug his heels into the multicolored carpet under his feet to keep you from pushing him along. You started to laugh loud enough for the woman who scolded Sam earlier to turn in your direction with a scowl upon her face.

“Alright, alright,” Sam groaned. He stood up straight, brushing you off. “Have fun, kids. Buck, I’ll see you Thursday for the game, right?”

Bucky nodded; hand tucked into his pocket. “Steve’s on nacho duty and we both know he’ll bring enough for twenty people, so you better.”

Sam grinned, pumping his fist in the air. “Exactly what I want to hear.”

“Weren’t you leaving...?” you teased, arms folded over your chest. Sam stuck out his tongue at you and quickly disappeared down the steps. You could hear the rhythmic bounce of his footsteps all the way to the bottom floor. You turned back to Bucky. “So, Thursday night football, huh?”

“Steve started it,” Bucky chuckled, a nervous hand raking through his hair. “They’ve been trying to rope me into game nights since baseball season started. Never had the interest before, I guess.”

That was what Sam was talking about; the small changes in his friend, little pieces of hope embedded into each day, small allowances of motivation and joy. He was finding it again.

“And now?” you inquired and Bucky shrugged.

“Sounds like it could be nice. Haven’t watched a game with them like that since before—” He swallowed, eyes darting down. It took a minute, a short breath in and a tense exhale before he cleared his throat and pushed out a smile. “Anyway, how are you? I didn't mean to interrupt if you were hanging out with Wilson, honest.”

“Oh, don’t worry about Sam. He likes the attention too much.” You laughed, stepping a little closer.

Glancing down at his hand as he held it down by his side – not tucked into his pocket, not curled up in a fist – and you dared to reach for it. You felt the slight twinge of surprise as he jolted under the touch, but relaxed almost instantly as you intertwined your fingers.

“I’m better now that you’re here,” you said simply, running your free hand soothingly along his arm. It wasn’t unfamiliar contact but it was still new. You could tell it still felt like the first time for him any time you touched him, like he was trying to retrain his body on how to accept touch like this; something gentle and affectionate. You put as much compassion and warmth into each embrace as you could, hoping it might help alleviate some of that anxiety.

He smiled at you, squeezing your hand in return. “Was kinda hoping you’d say that.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded, a smile growing on his face as he watched your right hand slide along his arm, running over the bumps in his jacket and feeling for the muscle underneath. If it bothered him, he gave no indication. Instead, he squeezed your hand again, readjusting his fingers, rubbing his thumb sweetly along the back of your hand.

“Come on,” you nodded, gesturing to the book shelf behind you. “I’ve got more books to put away and I could use some of that company you promised.”

***

Three hours later and Bucky was sitting on one of the beanbags in the Children’s Corner, reading the latest book on a seemingly never-ending list you’d assigned for him: The Silver Linings Playbook by Mathew Quick – the story of a man determined to find the good in the bad as he navigates an evenly matched chaotic love interest, the approval of a strict, suburban Philadelphian family, and an undying loyalty to Eagles’ football.

After Bucky had helped place a few of the novels on the tallest shelves, you insisted you weren’t intent to put him to work and pushed him onto the beanbag chair. Most of the time he pretended to read while he watched you weave around the aisles. Always bright when patrons approached and sneaking a few lines of narrative from each book as you placed it on the shelf, as if you could capture a glimpse of each story and hold it for later.

You were never more than a few aisles away and he caught you peering over at him every so often, just checking to make sure he was still there. He winked at you as you caught his eye and a laugh would escape passed your lips despite your effort to hide it before you disappeared back to your task.

He was nearly halfway through the book, using the same clip you’d given him the first day of book club, when he heard the small voice of a child clear their throat.

A girl, no older than eight, stood behind you as you stocked one of the children’s shelves. She tapped on your spine and backed up a few paces, holding her hands tightly in front of her.

Bucky couldn’t quite make out what she was saying, but you knelt down to her level – the same as you’d done for the boy in the café – and nodded intently to what she was saying. Then, after scratching at your head, scrunching up your face in thought, you brought the girl over to a different aisle and pulled out a book for her.

She glanced over the cover for only a few seconds before she tugged the book tight to her chest and squealed. She thanked you quickly with an enthusiastic wave before she rushed off to a couple standing by the elevator. She wrapped her arms around her father’s legs, excitedly showing her mother the book you’d selected for her.

But Bucky couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from you. You stood from your place in the aisle as you watched the interaction between the girl and her parents; how the father patted her on the head and ruffled up her hair, much to the child’s infectious delight, how the mother picked up the book and raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

Your hands were crossed over your heart, a smile brimming bright on your face. Bucky couldn’t imagine how anyone had come to be as genuine and warm as you were; filled with an unending compassion for others beyond anything he’d ever seen before and a love in the simplicity of kindness. When you looked back over at him, he could hardly catch his breath.

“Hey,” you called sweetly, skipping up to him. The sleeves of a golden yellow sweater hung past your fingertips and you curled the excess fabric into your palms. “My shift’s over in a few minutes.”

Bucky blinked a few times, pulling himself from his stare before he glanced over at the clocking hanging high above the books. “Wow. That went fast.”

You nodded, swaying on your heels.

“Luciana’s?” you asked as you bit down on your lip, that nervous kind of look about you like you might actually believe he’d ever turn down more time with you.

Bucky exhaled a breath of relief, closing the book in his lap. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Come on,” you grinned, extending your hand to him.

You took the book first, placing it into the small bag draped over your shoulder, and slipped your hand into his. Bucky let you tug him up to his feet, though he didn’t need the help despite the sinking feeling of the bean bag chair numbing his legs. He liked the feeling of your hand wrapped tightly in his own and he liked it even more so when you didn’t let go.

“Heading out, dear?” Mrs. Jefferson called by the front desk as you passed by. She ran her eyes over Bucky, that signature smirk present upon her lips, though you didn’t seem to notice. She winked at him and he felt the tips of his ears burn red.

“Yes, ma’am! I’ll see you tomorrow,” you replied, waving her off as you pulled Bucky to the doors.

It was warmer outside than he was expecting, with children running down the sidewalk and tourists in matching t-shirts chasing on their heels. They carried pinwheels in their hands and bags of popcorn as if they’d been by a carnival – which seemed odd in the middle of Brooklyn. Another family across the street pushed a small child in a stroller with paint on her face in the shape of rainbows and a bag of cotton candy curled up tight in her hand.

Bucky narrowed his eyes, confused.

“I love this time of year,” you sighed, leaning your head to his shoulder as you walked. “Look at the sky. It’s beautiful.”

The sun was beginning its decent beyond the horizon, the dark cast of a night sky peering over the light blues as they faded into reds and oranges and a distant glimpse of purple. The stars had begun to peak through the clouds.

“Forgot how dark it can get,” Bucky said as you guided him back to the residential streets.

You shrugged. “Earlier sunset though. Makes for a nicer walk after my shift.”

Bucky smiled at that. You always managed to find the silver lings in every cloud, no matter how dark or grey or filled with rain – you found the good. He wondered for a moment, if you could manage to do the same in him, too.

“It was nice of you to come by today,” you said. You nudged his hip as you adjusted your hold on his hand with a gentle squeeze. When he looked down at you, you were smiling at him.

“Just like spending time with you.” Bucky shrugged, trying to play it off casually, though his heart was racing. You nodded slowly, the smile growing even wider on your face, though you didn’t say anything.

The sidewalks were empty on this part of the walk and while a silence had taken over between you, it was comfortable, like the wrap of a warm blanket. Your hand still tucked into his, a gentle squeeze now and then to remind him you were there, a soft humming under your breath. There was a sense of peace in it, a safety he hadn’t known in a very long time.

The quiet had been his enemy for so long. He’d done everything he could to avoid it; favoring instead the white noise of a broken satellite channel, the clanging of the radiator he’d never fixed, the static of an empty radio station. The quiet allowed too many memories to come through, memories he would have rather left behind when he boarded that plane for the last time. The quiet mocked him and pushed him so far inside himself, he was underwater.

But now—now there was a kindness in it. The quiet granted him the moments to listen for the gentle rise of your breaths and the hum in your voice. It allowed him a chance to focus on the click of your boots to the sidewalk and the way you said his name like he was something to behold. The silence gave him you.

And it was ripped away in an instant.

He felt the vibration of it, felt the rumble in his chest and the skip in his heart, before he ever heard the thunderous echo of the explosion.

No time to react, Bucky shoved you to the ground, throwing his body on top of yours, his arm casting up to shield your face. He couldn’t feel the heat of the fire, but he knew it must be close.

“Bucky!” you called, frantic, but your voice sounded too far away. His ears were ringing, his heart pounding so loudly he wondered if it could jump straight out from his chest, if it would spill broken and bloody onto your sweater below.

You called his name again, trying to grab his attention, but it was muffled, like you were calling to him from beneath an ocean.

He dared a glance back over his shoulder, searching for enemy soldiers, IEDs, tanks, trunks, anything, but he was only met with empty streets, autumn-colored leaves, and brick buildings when he was sure all he would find was dirt and desert.

Something was wrong.

“Bucky, you’re alright. You’re safe. Focus on my voice,” you called to him again and he felt the touch of something cold on his face. Your hands. Cupping at his cheeks, your thumbs brushing gently over the rush of heat on his skin. He stared down at you, breathing heavy, but you were steady, calm. “Bucky, breathe for me. Come on.”

You took in a deep breath, urging him to follow.

But no—he didn’t have time. He had to get you to safety. He had to get you out of the line of fire before—

Another explosion.

He flinched as it erupted, wrapping himself tighter around you, caging you down against the sidewalk in an effort to take the brunt of debris though he felt nothing on his back. You groaned underneath him, a slight pain in your voice.

“Bucky, honey.” Your voice was miles away. He could only hear the last remaining remnants of an echo at the end of a tunnel. Your hands pressed against his face again, urging him to look at you. Your eyes were wide as you searched his, full of concern and maybe even sadness, but no fear. Why was there no fear?

“Look up for me,” you told him gently, gesturing to the sky. “You’re safe, Bucky. It’s only fireworks. Look.”

Bucky kept his focus on you. His vision was blurry, a painful ringing piercing in his ears. When you looked up at the sky, tenderly tilting his head to follow, he saw the trail of illuminated sparks against the backdrop of the setting sun as it raced into the sky.

Then – the explosion.

He still recoiled at the sound as it erupted into his chest, but he kept his eyes focused on the stream of red and gold as it fluttered against the backdrop of deep navies and the peppered brush strokes of fading purples along the horizon, the smoke disappearing in ghosted shadows against the clouds. His lips parted in shock, his breaths coming in a little quicker.

“No, I... I thought... I was so sure it...” He couldn’t finish a sentence, his mind racing faster than he could speak. He shook his head, staring up at the outlines of the firework long after it faded, the wind carrying it away. It felt so real.

“Let’s get out of the street, okay?” you soothed, drawing your fingers down his cheeks, smiling encouragingly at him. He nodded, feeling a bit out of it, like maybe he was in some sort of trance.

But then, it happened again.

The firework exploded high into the air and Bucky pressed his face to the crook of your neck, drawing you in as close as he could manage. He was shaking as you ran your hand along his spine.

“It’s okay, honey. I’ve got you.” Your voice was the only thing keeping him from disappearing inside himself entirely. He focused on the imprint of your hand on his back, the feel of your fingertips as you traced the lines on his face. He concentrated on the heat in your breath as it touched his cheeks and the pressed of your body under his.

“I live close by,” you told him, gesturing to a street off the corner. “Let’s go now, alright? Before the next one goes off.”

Bucky nodded quickly, too lost within his own head to feel the rush of embarrassment seeping into his features. His felt nauseous, his arm shaking, his legs weak and numb as he slowly backed off of you.

As you began to stand, he noticed the tiny rocks embedded into your clothing when they fell down to the sidewalk, bouncing against the concrete by your feet. There were scrapes on your elbows and a tear in your sweater.

“Come on,” you called to him, extending your hand, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the patch of red on your skin.

But then he spotted another stream of light flying high into the sky and he reached for your hand, gripping it tight before the firework went off. Even prepared, it made him stumble on his feet as it echoed down into the empty streets.

“Focus on this, alright? Focus on what you can feel,” you said, squeezing his hand tight in your own. You picked up the pace as you guided him a few blocks away from Luciana’s, further into the residential streets.

If Bucky had been in his right state of mind, he would have thought it was rather pretty; the way the sunset cast a stunning illuminated glow onto the faded brick and the pots of flowers hanging from the windowsills. The fireworks lighting up the darkest parts of the sky in effervescent colors.

You were beautiful as you tugged him along – hair a little misplaced, leaves trapped in the fabric of your sweater, cautious looks back in his direction as you pulled him by his hand. So beautiful, it kept his focus as another firework went off and he felt the hardened pressure of your grip.

“Go on inside,” you instructed, and Bucky realized he was standing at the door to an apartment – your apartment. He didn’t even realize he’d walked up a flight of stairs and crossed inside a building.

You were staring at him when he looked at you again and it was only then he saw an ounce of fear in your eyes. You squeezed his hand. “Come on now, honey. Please?”

Bucky swallowed, nodding as he stepped inside. He tried to look around, wanted to know the sort of things you kept around your apartment; if it was littered in as many books as you carried in your bag or if it had the warm tones of the colors you wore in your clothing decorated around your living room. He wanted to look at old pictures on the wall and the stand of DVDs you held onto, even without a workable DVD player, as they piled by the television. He wanted to know so much more about you.

Even in the distance, through the walls and the locked windows, he heard the firework erupt into the sky, the flash of it echoing into your apartment and lighting up the living room, and his whole body winced.

“Couch,” you told him, quickly kicking your shoes to the mat and shrugging off your jacket. You grabbed a book from your bag and tossed it onto the coffee table. When Bucky didn’t so much as move, you took careful steps closer to him and stilled.

“Do you know where you are?” you asked cautiously, almost instinctively, like maybe you’d done that before.

Bucky swallowed, though it tasted of bile. He nodded.

You bent down to untie his boots. He stepped out when you asked him to, the slight chill of your fingertips against his ankles as you removed the shoes. Then, you grabbed his hand and led him to the couch.

You laid down with your back pressed against the arm rest, one leg draped down along the back cushions, the other hung over the side. You gestured for him to follow, patting at the space of the couch between your legs.

“I...” Bucky started, finding the words lost on his tongue. He knew it would help. The pressure, the feel of you to ground him back to reality, to keep his mind from the memories swarming back to the surface, but all he could feel was the emptiness on his left, the shame of a missing piece and he couldn’t stand for you to feel it, too.

“Bucky, please,” you urged. “Let me help you.”

The echo of another firework broke into the sky, the light illuminating your apartment, and despite Bucky’s best efforts, his body flinched.

He clenched his jaw, desperately trying to keep himself in the present moment, to focus on you and the distant scent of a pine candle on the coffee table, but all he could see was a rush of wind, sand in his eyes from the storm, the laughter of a kid far too young to be carrying a weapon of that size, the low hum of a jeep, a reflection over a hillside, someone screaming, his throat raw and burning and—and—and—

“Bucky? Are you—”

He crawled down onto the couch, sinking you into the cushions and resting the full of his body weight against you. He set his head against your chest; his ear pressed to your heartbeat so he could hear the steady thumping inside, the rise and fall of each breath. His right arm snaked up around your shoulder blades, tucking his hand against you like he was cradling a pillow.

You were incredibly still for a moment, stunned that he gave in, but then he felt you relax under him. A hum nestled in your chest as you slid a hand along his spine, drawing lines and circles to ease the tension in his muscles. The other swept against his hair, pushing it from his eyes, raking into his scalp.

You laid there with him like that for a moment, soothing your hands along the tension in his body and humming soft melodies under your breath to distract him from the fireworks as they lit up the night sky. He still flinched, but he recovered quicker, focusing on the steady beat of your heart under his ear and the movement of your hands on his spine.

He felt something warm touch other the crown of his head, a shaken breath brushing over his hair. Then, the book from the coffee table made its way into your right hand, the clip you’d given him on the first day of book club, affixed to the last page he’d read in the library that day. Resting the binding on his shoulder, you began to read.

“’When I read the actual story- how Gatsby loves Daisy so much but can't ever be with her no matter how hard he tries- I feel like ripping the book in half and calling up Fitzgerald and telling him his book is all wrong, even though I know Fitzgerald is probably deceased,’” you started, a soft smile evident in your voice. “’Especially when Gatsby is shot dead in his swimming pool the first time he goes for a swim all summer, Daisy doesn't even go to his funeral, Nick and Jordan part ways, and Daisy ends up sticking with racist Tom, whose need for sex basically murders an innocent woman, you can tell Fitzgerald never took the time to look up at clouds during sunset, because there's no silver lining at the end of that book, let me tell you.’”

Bucky sighed, sinking further into your embrace. He didn’t even notice as the final firework took its bow amongst the stars or the burst of applause in the distance, too focused on the gentle vibrations in your voice, the smell of an old book as you flipped through the pages, stealing glances up at your face as you smiled with every word.

When you finished the chapter, you closed the book and set it gently upon the table. Your hands returned to his hair, carding through it and drawing a hum from his lips.

“You alright?”

Bucky nodded, feeling a little dizzy. He certainly felt alright enough for the numbness to wash away and a steady stream of shame and humiliation to rush in and take its place. Slowly, he lifted himself from your embrace, crawling back against the couch and sitting on the edge of the cushions. You followed him, scooting up against his side.

“I’m sorry.”

Your shoulders sank. “Bucky, please, don’t apologize for—”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with this stuff, Y/n,” Bucky sighed, pinching at the bridge of his nose. Bile was etching its way up his throat. He’d never felt so helpless, so small, so vulnerable as if he were no more than a child. He was dead weight on your shoulders. He couldn’t put that on you, he couldn’t let you carry the burden he’d become.

“What if I want to?”

He dropped his hand, looking over at you to find you watching him with that same desperation he’d felt to keep you safe when he’d heard IEDs exploding in downtown Brooklyn just moments before. You reached out for his hand, putting it gently into your lap when you were met without resistance and began to trace over the lines in his palm.

“What if all I want to do is be with you? What if it’s all I can think about?” you continued, a low ache in your voice he didn’t expect. You lifted his hand to your lips, pressing a kiss to the knuckles and drawing a shuttering breath from his lungs. “I’d hold you for an eternity if that was what you needed.”

Bucky stared at you in stunned silence. He was a mess, barely stable and breaking apart at the seams and... and here you were, willing to stitch him together with needle and string. You saw a mosaic when all he could see were broken pieces. His lips parted to speak, but nothing came out.

Instead, your hand made its way to his cheek, cupping at the side of his face. Your eyes softened, flickering down to his lips, the touch of your fingertips grazing over his jawline and along his neck like maybe you could feel every pulse of his heartbeat.

Could you feel his fears, too? The ones that warned him that you wouldn’t like the broken, disfigured fragments he’d become? Could you tell that he was sitting on the edge of a waterfall with the rush of water under his legs, just waiting to be pushed off the ledge? Did you know it was your hand on his shoulder pulling him back to the shore?

He leaned in closer, testing his courage, until his nose brushed against yours. So impossibly close, the heat of your breath warm against his skin. You stayed there for a moment, waiting, foreheads pressed together, until Bucky dared to close the space between.

Chaste and honest. Slow and aching. He kissed you and the first touch left him breathless, shaken as he drew in an inhale. You pulled him closer, hands wrapped tenderly on the sides of his face and he could feel your lips curve up into a smile as he turned toward you, wrapping his arm around your waist to hold you closer.

God, he’d never wished more for his left arm to find its way back to his body than he did in that moment. He just wanted to feel you in every way he could, to wrap himself around you in his entirety, to hold you the way a woman should be held.

You pulled back suddenly, laughing under your breath, and he realized your phone was buzzing on the table. You didn’t move for a second, just staring at him, trying to contain your laughter, and he found himself smiling so wide, it reached his eyes. His cheeks ached a little, too.

He realized it the moment you reached out and wiped your thumb over his lips, how you handled him with such intricacy and care, how you touched him like he was made of worth, how you looked at him like he was something to adore – he was in love with you.

You lunged for your phone, still smiling as you brought it to your ear. “Hey Nat, I’m kinda busy right— Oh.” Your face fell. “Are you alright?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, his hand setting on your knee to give it a slight squeeze.

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” you said into the phone, pressing your lips into an apologetic line. “I’ll be right there.”

“Everything okay?” Bucky asked as you hung up the phone. You nodded, reaching back out for him and your hand found its way to the side of his face. You held it there, thumb brushing along his cheekbone fondly before you leaned in and pressed slow, brief kiss against his lips – something so casual, so intimate, as if you’d done it a thousand times before. He wished you’d do it a thousand more.

“I’m so sorry, but... I have to go,” you sighed, a frown pushing down at the corners of your mouth. “Please believe that I’d stay if it was anyone other than Natasha... Something happened at her job and I—”

“No apologies, right?” Bucky eased, resolving your guilt before you even had a chance to allow it to rise to full display. “You don’t have to explain yourself. It’s okay. I’m okay.”

“You’re sure?” You weren’t convinced, but he could tell from the hope in your eyes that you wanted it to be true.

“Yes,” Bucky replied sincerely. With the fireworks long faded into the night sky and the gentle chirp of crickets beyond your window, the only remaining cause of his racing heartbeat belonged to the woman sitting beside him, the casual touch of your hand against his face. He turned to kiss at the inside of your palm before he lowered your hand into your lap.

“You could stay here, if you want,” you offered nervously, glancing out to the window half wondering if a new set of fireworks would begin to light against the pitch black of the sky.

Bucky shook his head, though he smiled for you. “I should head home anyway. I’ve got a book to finish.”

He reached for The Silver Linings Playbook and held it up in his hand. He had a hard time letting his own smile fall with the way you were looking at him and he tucked the book against his chest as if it could feel his heartbeat. He wondered if you picked this particular book for him in hopes he might start seeing silver linings the way Pat did along the pages of the novel— how you seemed to, as well.

If anything, you might be his very own silver lining.

“Come on,” Bucky said, standing from the couch and extending a hand to you. “I’ll walk you there.”

You bit on the edge of your smile in an effort to contain it. It did no use and for that, Bucky was thankful.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n

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angstyantoinette · 3 years

Text

Yandere!Howl Jenkins Pendragon x Reader Headcanons

Warnings: Slight NSFW [mention], kidnapping, manipulation, toxic relationships.

We all know that Howl is very much a ladies man; he knows exactly how to pull women in, and captivate them so that they fall in love with him easily.

For Howl, it’s all a game. He catches the eye of a girl, no interest on his part of course. She just happens to be in his line of the game. He knows what to say, how to present himself to perfectly fluster and simultaneously intimidate every other person there. He doesn’t venture outside the castle often, and when he does, there’s an air of fear; there’s such awe left in his wake.

And he loves it. This drama queen feeds off it.

But we also know that Howl is a runner. He cannot commit to anything, hating the restricting nature of feeling tied down. I mean, he abandoned his apprenticeship. With this in mind, Howl makes the most unlikely yandere. But he actually is highly dangerous, although he doesn’t really look like it.

He’s afraid of himself in a way. He understands that he is quite powerful, and after practically going rogue, Howl gets his kicks with spontaneity, with the complete unexpected in life.

When he meets you, he expects you to give him all your attention, like everyone else. But you brushed past him, looking at his fancy clothes, his blonde hair, sapphire eyes, green jewels swinging from his ears, and the beautiful pendant around his neck. He was picturing it now in his mind, getting ready for the look of adoration, the tense of muscles, the scarlet blush upon your cheeks.

But you looked away. You gathered your belongings, perhaps stowing them away in your satchel, and you just looked away.

What?

Is that it?

You weren’t even interested in him. Howl was still so stunned he had nothing to say, no suave and seductive voice to tempt you into his charms. He was in awe of you; you looked at him with such indifference it made his head hurt. Not with heartache or pain or anything like that. But he could not deny that he wasn’t curious.

Well, of course, not only does this not sit too well with Howl, he is very much a delusional person in this kind of state. However, he is incredibly smart and calculating and he balances these two personalities scarily very well.

Like I said before, Howl is a very dangerous yandere, and he thrives on his blantant misinterpretation of a mere womanizer to scamper away, unsuspected, unscathed, and free to do what he likes.

Howl doesn’t really hold on to grudges that much, or anything; when he loses interest, he tosses things away. Not all though.

You, you, YOU.

Why won’t you leave his weary mind after days of being apart? Why is his conciousness telling him to look for you, and not relent until he’s succeeded in doing so? Despite all the signs, all of the telltale signs that shows he’s just a little too invested in you, he writes it off as his bad habits resurfacing to play another game.

And, of course, Howl Jenkins shall oblige!

Howl is a patient man, make no mistake. He finds it enjoyable to watch things go down for a while; no matter how trivial, poking fun in plain sight at innocent civilians never gets old.

When he finally gives in to trying to find you and play with you for a little while, Howl pushes aside all distractions to do so. That means traveling through counties and villages, towns and cities until he’s found you again.

Howl is desperate for love and affection that isn’t because of his looks. He really wants someone to love him, not the image he puts across, not just above the surface with his tantalizing blue eyes that pull you in and trap you.

You saw through that. You barely gave him a second glance and while it peaked his interest initially, it annoyed him for days on end. Usually being teasing and indifferent to Calcifer’s complaining, he found himself snapping and getting easily annoyed. Markl began to subtly keep his distance on bad days.

Now, though, he’s become delusional. In Howl’s mind, you are to blame for his interest, for his inability to keep his mind off of you. You are the sole reason for his burgeoning obsession that seems to be running the show. He tells himself that when he finds you, it’ll leave. This painful, utterly agonising sensation of having you in his grasp, playing his game will go far away. He’ll seduce you, definitely, take you to bed and have a good time and his obsession and all-consuming desire to play the game, just you and him will just...go. Poof.

Except when Howl does find you, he doesn’t feel like letting go of you.

Ever.

And while this does take him by surprise, it all starts to make sense for him.

Because looking at you now, bundled up in his arms, crying in anger and confusion, he sees in the stars that this was meant to be.

He waits until he’s sure you’re asleep [more like passed out from exhaustion-] to really, really get a good look at you. He notices for the first time your cheeks and how they’re squished against his pillows and wrapped up in his sheets so perfectly, it’s like you’ve been here many times before. He notes how relaxed your closed eyes seem to be, no furrowed brow or scrunched tight eyelids; just complete and utter serenity.

You’re just so perfect. Could you be a god, some kind of deity perhaps?

He’s in love for the first time in a long time. He may have let it slip by then, selfish and uncaring, but now?

Oh no, Darling, you don’t stand a chance. Howl will do anything to keep you hidden from those bastards’ eyes protect you, to love you and most of all, make you see that he’s the one for you.

Always.

You sat in the boiling water filling the bathtub, limp and tired, unresponsive as Howl bustled around you, his task completely focused on getting you ready for bed. Once upon a time, you would have refused to call him by name; instead you settled for ‘bastard’, ‘prick’, and ‘I hate you’.

You even tried to sleepily mutter these things under your breath, not caring now that you were being lifted out of the bath, and dressed in a white gown. You cared even less when feeling your mind slip away into a soft sleep, curling into your body with comfort, clinging onto Howl’s pillows.

However, in front of his ‘housemates’ [ you could only guess what a talking fireplace could have to do with his wacky moving castle ], you were frightened. Howl didn’t even have to say a word; he had you smiling and acting somewhat normally in front of ‘Calcifer’ and the little boy, Markl, you thought his name was.

But you could always feel the sliver of magic take a hold of your wrists from behind, a little voice telling you that staying here was for your best interest, what more could you want? It promised you eternal love, devotion and affection, coated with a sickly sweetness only Howl could pull off.

All in all, you stopped resisting after a while. Howl was annoyingly patient it seemed, and it frustrated you to feel as though you were a child all over again. He smothered you, insisting on doing the most trivial of things for you, never snapping back at you, never doing anything to remotely answer back at you in the same manner whenever you resisted his help.

It didn’t click until you had cursed at him mercilessly, screeching and crying, pulling at your combed hair, that by acting like this; he looked better than you. He looked above you. Compared to your tantrums, Howl looked calm and collected and completely willing to help you in any way possible.

But why was he doing all of this?

Why did you wake up in his bed, with his lanky arms draped all over you as if you were lovers? Why was he spoiling you, letting you wear his clothes, feeding you? What was he trying to convince you of?

“Darling, I have some new nightclothes for you. Do you want me to help you into them?” He was slower, more gentle tonight as he strolled around his room. He was delberate though, not forceful exactly, but it was more of an atmospherical warning. You could just tell; if little Y/N tried anything, something would happen.

Some kind of spell, or perhaps even a curse to teach you a lesson.

Ah, there it was. Another gift.

Did he think you’d simply tolerate him because of his lavish, his blatantly excessive gift-giving?

Why did he look at you with such sickening adoration on his flawless features?

At last, his bustling seemed to cease and he took a longing glace back at you. He probably only meant it to last a few seconds but the longer he gazed, it just became a cold and glassy stare.

You knew the feeling of ‘zoning out’ well, but his eyes became darker and darker. Some kind of shadow must have passed over him or something, because he snapped out of his eerie trance and threw himself onto the bed.

You yelped in surprise, pulling your hands to your sides, hastily spreading them out on the soft quilt like spiders, your legs pushing your body back ever so slightly, eyes wide.

Howl chuckled, but it was filled with a sinister undertone that you weren’t used to at all. He snapped his head to the right, his hands already unraveling a silk-encased package.

“I saw these while in the town today and couldn’t help myself.”

Pulling out the brand new nightclothes, you unwillingly let out a pleased gasp. It was a set of matching pyjamas. They were satin, smooth to the touch and a beautiful shade of emerald, not too bright at all, but not dark either.

Sometimes, you enjoyed this sort of treatment from Howl, albeit, very guiltily. He was always polite, courteous and kind, willing to help you with anything, but you also couldn’t help but feel a sense of horror, lingering long after you fell asleep. As if it were some kind of parasite. You just couldn’t for the life of you place your finger on it.

You had learned to never keep him waiting for anything; he was a busy man and as much as he liked to have free reign of his work, he liked to be organised too.

This time you had apparently spent too long admiring your gift rather than answering him.

“Isn’t it lovely, Y/N? I thought it would suit you divinely.”

“Y-yes, it’s beautiful, thanks so much H-Howl.”

Not wasting any more time, he sat up from his previous position on the bed, and somehow managed to gracefully snatch the nightclothes away from your trembling hands, and shooting you a look as if to say, well, take your clothes off. That was the less sinister version. Howl’s eyes took on a new darkness that growled, or I’ll do it myself.

Your hands flew to your neckline, undoing the small ribbon that held the soft cotton on you, and allowed Howl to thread his fingers through the material, travelling towards the bottom of the garment and pulling it over your head whilst you lifted your arms, feeling the comfort of the soft sleeves peel off your arms.

The blush on your face was unmistakeable. It was another embarassment being bathed by him, but this? Stripping you out of your clothes? It didn’t help that he was aware of your inner battle, and having an annoying, but otherwise barely noticeable smile on his face.

His hand reached over with the satin nightclothes, urging you to take them. You did, carefully so, slipping them on against your flushed body, his cerulean orbs watching intensely.

As if he didn’t want the image to go away.

When you had finished dressing yourself, you stood up and tentatively walked to the mirror, even slightly stumbling on your feet, and gasped in pleased surprise. You looked...beautiful in the nightclothes. The satin felt so smooth on your skin, and the emerald shade brought out your e/c eyes nicely.

A few moments later though, you gasped for a whole different reason. Howl slipped his hands around the front of your torso, letting them wander further and further down, reaching your thighs with a renewed urgency, pressing you back against his body.

“I didn’t hear a ‘thank you’, darling.” His tone was teasing, but you could detect a hint of anger, annoyance was it? As quickly as the shadows came they departed, leaving you at the mercy of the wizard Howl.

“No matter,” he rasped against the nape of your neck, placing soft, heated kisses against your skin,”You can say thank you, whilst begging on your knees.”

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sorry about that ending, it just needed to come to an end before i drove myself mad with the procrastination :)

but what did you think of it?? there really isn’t enough Howl’s Moving Castle fics, let alone yandere ones, but i like how it came out.

to the person who requested this, Howl, is 100000% the gentle dom we ALL NEED OKAY

#yandere Howl x reader #yandere studio ghibli #howl x reader #yandere howl pendragon x reader #headcanons #x reader #x you

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haik-choo · 4 years

Text

haikyuu boys through lovers’ eyes

atlernate title: how you see the haikyuu boys.

-tsukishima, oikawa, kageyama, yamaguchi, sugawara, iwaizumi, kenma, bokuto, akaashi, hinata

tsukishima’s hair is the color of ready-to-harvest wheat; it’s the color of a farmer’s pride after a season’s worth of maintenance and hard work. his eyes are similar, but they shine with a golden glint. they’re riddled with the fear of passion, the fear of giving your all and still falling, but they’re hopeful. long blonde eyelashes adorn his citrine eyes like a thick blanket -- thick enough to make you jealous. his teasing smirk when he pokes fun at your envy is filled with love; his words are harsh and unrelenting but they have a caring undertone that warms your heart. his skin is as smooth as marble and when you run your fingers across it you almost can’t stop. when your touch lingers for too long tsukishima’s face flushes peach, his eyebrows creasing in embarrassment. his slender fingers gently grab your hand and interlaces your fingers together, his hypnotizing gaze anywhere but you. just gazing at him fills your heart with a want, no -- a need for him. the more you look at your lover, the longer you love tsukishima, the more you want to prove to him that the passion he pours into you will never go to waste.

true beauty comes from the inside, oikawa proves. his flirty smile that he throws to others, his piercing gaze, his whole outside demeanor takes a backseat to the true oikawa. the sweat that drips off him after he hits his twenty-fifth jump serve in a row is beautiful. his bottom lip tucked between his teeth, pink from constant biting, is breathtaking. his honest hands that tell the truth no matter what (like when he yelled at you to leave, but was still gripping the sleeve of your shirt with shaky fingers or the time when he said he was mad at you but was still caressing your cheek), are graceful. oikawa’s umber hair that whisped upwards with the gentle pass of wind and deep dirt-colored eyes were undeniably attractive. his lips that curled with mischief were pretty, and his tall figure that protected you was, too. but the faint warm smell of a flower meadow after a sun shower that he emitted coupled with the loving words he whispered to you at night as he twirled your hair around his finger meant so much more. oikawa was beautiful, yes, but for all the reasons that others who weren’t you didn’t know, and never will. his true beauty is meant just for you.

akaashi’s steel-blue eyes are underlined by heavy purple eyebags, but they’re a testament to his hard-working and reliable nature, so you think they’re beautiful. his cool midnight hair curls randomly, messily framing his concentrated face. sharp inexpressive eyebrows sit atop his eyes, giving off indifference, but his mind wanders aimlessly most the time. he dresses quick-and-comfortably in hopes of high function, not hopes of looking good, yet he still manages to steal the show. he tucks his neck and chin in the warmth of his large white ribbed turtle-neck, only allowing his sharp eyes to be seen. they’re almost always looking at you. his soft, uncalloused hands drift over to your leg, and his thumb rubs your knee lovingly. despite being good with words, he rarely found the courage to say them aloud, but he always thought them. actions were his preferred way of proving his love: making coffee in the morning for you as soon as you woke up, stopping work at eleven pm no matter what to focus on you (it was still late but it’s the thought that counts), and kissing you every morning and every night. his rosy lips tell you the truth much more honestly than any group of words he could ever string together.

one-track-mindedness is a virtue in kageyama. there’s something so compelling about his utter confidence in himself and his talents. his confidence comes from the way the ball slides against his calloused hands, its the way his eyes find the best spot on the court to hit the ball, its how he constantly improves. sure, his hair was a cool midnight black (that was cut a little weirdly) and his denim eyes captured your attention with ease, not to mention that his rare once-in-a-lifetime smile caused butterflies to flutter their translucent wings in your stomach -- but he paid no mind to his physical features (seriously, have you seen his hair?). the physical things he took pride in were the bruises littering his legs, the olympic gold medals that hung on his wall, the way his lips molded with yours like plaster. he loves his muscles and how they shift around underneath his skin, pulling together and pushing apart as he reaches for something in the upper kitchen cabinet because they allow him to play volleyball to the best of his ability. he loves the sport, it’s his dream. he loves his body, because it supports his dream. and most of all, he loves you, because even as his body ages and his fingers tremble and struggle to pick up the ball with both hands when he once could pick it up with just one, loving you will never get harder.

never did you think yamaguchi’s forest green hair would cause your ears to burn and heart to beat faster than usual. but now, you wonder how you ever lived without him. though, it wasn’t just his soft hair; it was his timid but loyal demeanor, it was his loving eyes and how they took in every detail of you and valued you for everything you were, it was how his arms made you feel as they wrapped around your waist: safe, warm, secure. just as a forest with lush green leaves thrived, yamaguchi’s dark green irises were bursting with life. his smile was a little brighter than you remembered when he was younger, he was more sure of himself. his eyes didn’t waver when you met them or move away when you stared too long. his hands gestured in the air wildly when he was excited, no shame in his child-like passion. yamaguchi was no timid highschool boy who lived with regrets anymore. he lives everyday with new hope in his eyes, proud of himself now and who he was in the past. he even learns to love the freckles that splattered like stars against his softly tanned skin. he hated them at one time, but after you told him that he gets a new one every time you two kiss, he learns to love them.

the sun burns bright against a cool blue sky, but hinata’s smile manages to burn brighter, hotter than the faraway star (and so does his hair). he belongs in the sky, what with his dazzling smile that blinds unsuspecting patrons and his glass-like orbs of honeydew that hold giant hydrogen-burning supernovas within them. maybe that was a little much, describing him that way. but he seemed otherworldly, like someone you’ve met in a past life, a past universe. his white smile stretches across his face, his eyes narrowing into excited slits, cheeks red, giggle coming from his throat. there’s never been anything more perfect; a look of pure joy and ambition. even when he’s five sets into a game, sweat dripping down his golden skin like rain in spring, chest heaving up and down, begging for air; he’s so alive. there’s a fire in his eyes, lava in his veins. hinata burns so bright, feels so hot against your skin, that you can feel yourself melt when you touch him. he scalds anyone that steps foot into his life, leaving them with a scar, evidence of his passion. no one is the same after that. you’re not the same now, not with his head on your chest and his hand in yours -- but you don’t need to be. you don’t want to be. because then, you were a cold, lifeless planet, surface barren and plain. but his arrival, his scalding arrival, brought warmth, attracted water-filled asteroids -- gave you life. hinata was your sun, and you’d spend an eternity revolving around him.

sugawara has hazel-brown eyes that somehow captivate you. somehow, simple brown eyes surrounded by light gray eyelashes captivate you. you can see the world in their reflection, and it shocks you how beautiful his honey eyes make the world seem. his hair is the shade of a rainy cloud, yet it still somehow brings smiles. people surround him naturally, his demeanor accepting and friendly, and every person around him always has joy evident on their face. his extrovert-tendencies reduce down to nothing only when in your presence alone, though. at home he plops down next to you, the smooth skin of his face resting on your clothed shoulder, a heavy sigh leaving his peach lips as he mutters about just wanting to hold you. then the same captivating eyes flick upwards to you, and it happens again, time stops. you look so beautiful reflected in his eyes -- is this how he sees you? his hands cup your face to bring you down to his level, and his lips cover yours lovingly. sugawara is an enigma, and maybe you’ll never figure him out or know exactly what he’s thinking, but you think that maybe, just maybe, if he continues to look at you like you’re his whole world in his russet eyes, you don’t mind staying by his side forever.

despite the uneven blend of the blonde and black of kenma’s hair, there’s something about it that makes you want to run your fingers through the locks. the reason may lie in his golden eyes and how they compel you to do things you never thought you’d do. things like make your heart pound fast, things like spontaneously kissing the cat-like boy next to you in a fit of loving emotions. kenma’s hands are not like other setters; they’re soft and constantly cold, begging for your warmth. the pads of his fingers and his knuckles are a light pink, much like the apples of his cheeks when he’s near you. his hands aren’t very big, but when they envelop yours they somehow still make you feel safe. his face has never been very emotive, but his mouth gives you hints on his inner thoughts, the smallest quirk of his small lips giving leeway to whats on his mind. in a way, it makes him easy to read. but you’ve never needed those small hints for kenma puts his emotions on full display just for you. only for you. he really is like a cat; it takes time to warm up to you, but when he does, he willingly reveals the soft plush of his stomach to you; he willingly lets you through the closed doors of his guarded heart.

iwaizumi’s muscles shift beautifully underneath his tan skin as he stretches, his arms raising upwards, reaching for the sun. they relax as he settles down next to you on the couch and loosely throws an arm over your shoulder. as he mindlessly scrolls through his phone, you take the time to admire him in all his california-glory. he’s darker than in high school, the beaches in california gently toasting him to the perfect shade of golden brown. his skin brings out the green in his olive-green eyes, and silently you thank whatever gods exist for taking their time on him. his hair is slightly longer than before, though still cut unevenly, yet you want to curl your finger around his short strands of chocolate brown hair. looking closer to his face, you notice that even his face is less tense than when you were younger; he’s mellowed out. not that he’s any less competitive (ask oikawa), but he’s more gentle. small details pop out to you the more you stare, like the small barely-there freckles that litter his nose, or the sun-dyed lighter brown tips of his hair, or the slight sunburn that rests atop his nose from his recent trip out in the sun (you’ll remind him to wear more sunscreen later). But what you notice most of all is the soft smile on his dusty-rose lips. briefly, you wonder what’s got him smiling, but then you see his eyes are focused on your mouth, and the gentle angle in which he’s leaning, and you know exactly what he’s so happy about. you close your eyes, and meet him in the middle.

there’s a shocking softness to bokuto’s demeanor; despite his hard plays and hard muscular body, his face and personality radiate warmth. it must be the way his large, round ashen-brown eyes look at a person with excitement dancing in them. or maybe it’s the surprisingly tender way he reaches a large hand out to touch your shoulder, completely opposite to his enthused mood. but, honestly, you know why he seems to soft. it’s because his heart beats for you. it’s because when he sees you, he wants nothing more than to embrace you and let the air become serene, his scent filling your nose as yours fills his. as he pulls you into a kind hug, you can feel yourself melt into him, his chest like a bed of pillows, soft yet firm, his body giving off the perfect amount of heat, his hands rubbing your back soothingly. you can feel him grin against your scalp as he kisses your hair softly. when he pulls back to look at you deeply, his expressive grey eyebrows seem to lessen in their harsh angle, and they lay nearly flat. bokuto’s multi-colored hair almost curls with love, a deviation from it’s pin-straight nature. a few more seconds pass and he pulls you back into his chest: you stay still, inhaling his comforting scent, heart full from the love he’s feeding you.

a/n: oikawa’s ‘honest hands’ come from @cranbearly‘s iwaoi art !

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