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#same with his original character design photo!!

evilyodastwistedworldofevilness · 3 months

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Ermm...What the flip is a "Will Wood?"

Awhile ago I made a Will Wood LEGO set in the program Studio 2.0 based off his album "In Case I make it," and just never posted it anywhere. Contains a bunch of references to his songs, his albums, those tapeworms that he has, stuff he has worked on with other people, etc. Some of the character's are based off preexisting stuff while others is more original I guess. Still not the best with captions cuz I got nothing else lmao

More photos below!!!

Some dark lighting here. This is how it's supposed to look but when I showed this to my friend they said the images were too dark and like fair it is pretty dark so I made a bunch of more renders but with brighter lighting so you can see better

Ahh! so bright!! so so bright!!!

I'd probably make some changes to this like changing the designs of some of the figures and maybe add other designs but I don't got it in me to rerender everything so oh well it is what it is lol

Can you guess the references? First person to name all of them wins a photo of a scary monster!!!! ahhhh!!!! so scary!!!!!!!!!

Okay here's the answers lol

I feel like i complained a lot in the caption of this post but I actually do love how this came out and I really enjoyed doing all the fancy posing for all the figures and I really want to do more stuff like that

(and I already did get ready I got more of this stuff lmao)

For a lot of the character's I had trouble finding good parts that actually matched with the design so some of them are just real wonky looking. Part of me sorta wishes I made an original design for SELF-ISH but at the same time I think just having the actual art from the cover being placed on top of a LEGO dude is really funny.

like look at this shit lmao

I'm probably going to make a followup to this post showing off like the 800 wip renders I did of this anyways follow for 800 reblogs of random ass shit and NOTHING ELSE

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steppin-on-the-last-train · 4 months

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Happy Xmas (War Is Over)

Natasha Romanoff x Taskmaster!Reader

Summary: Settling down within S.H.I.E.L.D hasn't been easy, but Christmastime is here, and Clint Barton extends an invitation that seems too good to be true. You follow him to his farmhouse where you're met with a few surprises. With Natalia by your side, you try to accept your new life in America, and maybe find some holiday spirit along the way.

Foreword: Happy Holidays everyone! This is a beast of a fic (14.5k words) so strap in. It's also very much an original character just written in second person, but I hope you enjoy.

You sat slouched on a sofa in the common room of SHIELD headquarter’s residential wing. You weren’t sure why the designers had felt the need to include this room. Spies weren’t well known for their extroverted nature. But the holidays had left the area quiet, rather the entire building seemed to have wound down with the slowing nature of the cold and snow outside. You found the space to be useful when you became sick of staring at the same four blank walls of your standard issue apartment. Having recently defected from Russian ranks you and Natalia weren’t allowed to leave campus without an escort, which left you exactly three places to spend downtime. Your room, Natalia’s room–which looked exactly like yours save for a book Barton had given her–or the common area.

The two of you were working on the latest mission report. Well, you were supposed to be working on the write-up, but the end of year evaluations had been released and yours begged to be raked over. So Natalia worked on hers, fingers diligently tapping away at the keys. She was sitting sideways along the couch, legs lounged over your lap and back to the armrest. You didn’t know how she found the position comfortable. You narrowed your eyes at your computer screen and the unkind words it harbored. “Do you think I am uncooperative and have a tendency to disobey the orders of superiors?” You asked the redhead.

She looked up from her laptop, eyes searching your profile. “Where is this coming from?”

“The end of year assessments,” you frowned. “They are out.”

“I thought we were working on the reports for the Minsk mission.” She raised a reprimanding eyebrow.

“I was,” you said, dragging out the second word ever so slightly. “But they are just so tedious now. Why do they need to know the amount of bullets I used? I miss when all we had to do was take a photo of the dead guy for proof of accomplishment.” Natalia nudged your ribs with her foot. “Ow,” you complained.

“We do this because it’s the normal thing to do. Because what we do in the field is necessary, but the violence has to be justified so we can continue doing our jobs.” She tucked a strand of hair that had escaped from her braid behind her ear. “We’re with the good guys now,” she reminded gently. “The world may still be brutal, but we don’t have to be anymore.”

“So we count the bullets,” you concluded.

“So we count the bullets,” she stated. A moment of silence passed, only the sound of Natalia resuming her typing filling the air. That was something you were still getting used to. Silence always preceded something terrible, the inhale before you faced hell on earth. “You are uncooperative.”

“What?” You asked, turning to face her indifferent expression.

“Your question from earlier. I’m answering it.”

“You too?” You shook your head. “You are supposed to take my side, not Fury’s.”

“You are the person who let themselves get captured by the enemy after you heard they’d gotten to me. And,” she paused, “if you finished that report you’d get to the part where you chose not to listen to Agent Riley.”

“I had it handled,” you said, reaching for your coffee cup on the side table.”That man thinks he knows what is better just because he has fifteen years on me. I think he is too cautious. That is why the Americans are leagues behind us in intelligence. They do not have the guts to do what needs to be done.”

“We are Americans now,” she reminded. You wrinkled your nose. “I mean for all intents and purposes, you get that.” She put her laptop on the coffee table and sidled next to you. You could feel her warmth bleed into you where your bodies met. Her knees pressed into your legs, her shoulders turned into your chest. “You can do it, I know you can,” she whispered, taking your hand.

“Do what?” You asked dubiously.

“Beat them. Unlearn what they taught us. You just have to make an effort.” She put a hand on your cheek, fingertips caressing the side of your face. You almost swore she wanted you to kiss her. You swallowed down nothing but a bubble of air and desire. Not today.

You looked at her, gaze narrowing. “I am here, am I not?” Two large windows allowed the morning light to stream in behind Natasha and wash her in a fresh aura. The blue sky shined bright as fat snowflakes whirled down to meet the pavement of the U.S. capital. Far below, pedestrians hustled from building to building, jackets pulled tight against the cold. Your heart began to pound when you thought about calling this place home. Everything was just so wrong. “I think fighting the urge to run is about all I can manage right now. I believed in the cause, at least I think I did. Turning my back on the Red Room, on him any faster and I think I might break.”

“I know, and I see you. But you have to show them that,” she said, tapping the now black computer screen.

“Like you do? Do not tell me you actually trust anyone here.”

“I don’t,” she said carefully, as if there might exist an exception. “But you have to cooperate, to let someone else take the reins for now.”

“I do not know if I can.” You bit your lip and traced the room with your eyes. The clean, modern furniture and the off-white walls. You knew you shouldn’t but you missed the familiarity of the old wooden mansion. “I am not like you Talia. I cannot see the good in people.”

“And I’m not asking you to. Do you trust me?” She asked, eyes that reminded you of the dawn of spring boring into yours.

“Always,” you breathed, not missing a beat. “You are the only thing in this world that makes sense to me.”

“Then follow my lead. I’m worried about you. I don’t want you digging a hole you can’t climb out of.”

“Okay, I will try.” You were not sure you meant it. Humanity given too much freedom would eat itself alive. A familiar mantra marched across the back of your mind like the incessant buzz of an insect. Correct and control. Correct and control. Correct and control. Correct–

A noise from down the hall caught your attention. Quick footsteps heading your way echoed into the room. You looked at Natalia. The two of you had thought everyone else had left the building for the holidays.

A frazzled Clint Barton walked into the room, looking about to take off in a full sprint. He wore faded blue jeans and a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms. A duffel bag hung over his shoulder, storing a fair amount of his belongings if you had to guess. He glanced in your direction, but refused to slow his stride. You watched him go, when suddenly he dug his heel into the ground and spun around.

“What are you guys doing here?” He asked as if just now processing your presence.

“Working,” Natalia answered. You liked Barton well enough and there was no question that you owed him an unpayable debt for sparing Natalia’s life. He looked unassuming, quick to smile and kept a short crop of hair as blonde as a field of wheat. You weren’t quite on casual speaking terms though, not because he bothered you, no. It’s just you weren’t keen to talk to anyone except the girl still halfway sprawled across you.

He furrowed his brow and adjusted the strap across his shoulder. “It’s Christmas Eve,” he stated plainly, as if that in itself was explanation enough.

“It is,” Natalia agreed.

“Well you can’t sit in here all day.” He made a sweeping gesture about the room and all of its bareness and almost surgical detachment. His gaze lingered on you for a moment, silent surprise weaving its way across his face. Feeling off put, you fixed your posture, spine straightening and causing Natasha to slide away. You had yet to encounter him outside of a professional setting, but here you sat wedged into the couch and rather at ease. You wore sweats, albeit SHIELD issue, but still something you’d normally not be caught around in.

“And why is that?” Natalia asked, tone laced with faux confusion. She blinked at Barton, eyes doe-wide.

He shifted his stance and rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re really going to make me say it?” He waited, looking at Natalia indignantly. “It’s sad. You can’t stay at work during Christmas.”

“What would you suggest we do?” She asked, still playing her one-sided game. Bemusing to you, but not so much to the Hawkeye.

“I don’t know. Go home? That’s what I’m doing.” Home, you thought. If you ran back to the place you still called home, SHIELD would call for your head. Even still, the house beckoned out to you in your dreams; not warm, never safe, but structured and oh so familiar. Come home my child, a gruff voice compelled. Come and take your rightful place as my sword and shield.

Something behind Natasha’s eyes flickered for a moment before disappearing behind a wall of apathy. “There’s not exactly a home for me to go back to.”

“Oh. That’s right. Erm,” Barton stammered. “I’m sorry. Sometimes I forget.”

“Forget that I’m an outsider?”

“That’s one way to put it I suppose. I mean, you’re one of us now, right? We all come from different places so in a way we’re all outsiders. Most of us have pasts we’d rather forget. You don’t do the kind of thing we do because you grew up with two loving parents,” he said.

Natalia tilted her head, hair brushing against your neck. “And where did you come from?”

He smiled, one side of his mouth pulled slightly higher than the other. “Nice try Romanoff. Put a couple of beers in me first and you might have better luck.”

“Oh that’s right, I forgot. Fury found you wandering around the sewers,” she teased. You didn’t know who she did it. How she joked and spoke so freely. How she saw a friend and ally where you saw a threat and a future enemy.

“Ha ha,” he said dryly, lips still curled in a smile. “You’re actually not too far off.” He waited before saying more, eyes flicking to you as they often did when the three of you gathered together. Patiently offering a chance for you to join the conversation, but never calling you out. You were running out of excuses to mistrust the man. “Even still, you guys ought to get out of here. Drive to New York or something. They put up a giant tree in Times Square. I’ve never seen it in person, but,” he raised an arm for emphasis. “Huge.”

This time Natalia’s expression fell for long enough even Barton picked up on it. She turned away from him and stared down at her hands. “I’d love to see that,” she murmured. “We can’t leave though. Not yet. Not without an escort from an authorized superior.” Technically there was nothing stopping you from leaving the building. You’d picked up the nasty habit of prowling the streets in the dead hours of the morning after a nightmare left your hands shaky and your heart clawing its panicked way up your throat. Natalia however had not made one move even remotely close to toeing SHIELD’s strict line. A fact made clear when she’d caught you sneaking back in as the sun rose one morning. You’d promised not to do it again with an overwrought frown on your face. You went out again the very next night and left a mugger to bleed out in an alleyway.

“Oh, that’s right.” It was Barton’s turn to look away. “You know what?” He asked, lifting his chin and pulling out a cell phone. He let the duffle bag down from his shoulder and onto the ground, putting the phone to his ear. Natalia looked at you and you shrugged. She knew him better than you anyway.

“Hey honey,” he said, not bothering to turn away or lower his voice. You didn’t know he had a girlfriend. Between the way you had only ever seen him consume pizza and his obsession with trying to make the most difficult shots possible on missions you had assumed he was single. “I’ve got a pair of stragglers here at the office.” He paused, sucking on his teeth for a moment. “I know, I know I was just about to get on the road I promise. I’ll still be home by five. No, I’ll be careful, I won’t get a speeding ticket this time.” He adjusted the phone and flicked his gaze in your direction. “Yeah, Laura, it’s them. You know me. They don’t have anywhere to go and I thought.” He paused. Slowly, a dopey grin curled onto his face. “Yeah, I do. You know I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t.” A final pause. “Okay. I’ll see you later. Love you.” He stuffed the phone back in his pocket and looked up with new excitement sparkling in his eyes. “Have you guys ever been to Iowa?”

Natalia shook her head. “No. I’ve got a soft spot for the Midwest though.”

“Well, what are you waiting for? Go pack for a few days. Laura’s going to kill me if I’m another minute late,” he said, hoisting the bag over his shoulder.

Natalia’s eyes went wide and she opened her mouth, speechless. Even you were taken aback. Was Barton really inviting you to his home? Certainly he didn’t trust you yet. You hadn’t even been at SHIELD for a year, the first six months of which you spent firmly locked in a cell. Yet there he stood, hands in his pockets and waiting for you to move your ass and follow him out. “I didn’t,” Natalia started. “When I said we couldn’t leave I wasn’t asking for you–”

“Nope. Don’t do that. I want to. You guys are never going to be comfortable here if you’re not extended some freedom. Trust me, I know.” You watched the other man with suspicion, waiting for the trap to spring. The SHIELD agent who had spared Natalia’s life when he had explicit orders to put an arrow through her heart. The American who believed in the good in people and making the world a less gruesome place in the small way he could. The person who extended a hand to others in a time of crisis. “I used to spend Christmas alone and cold without a home. Then I got Laura and I couldn’t be happier. But it can get lonely just the two of us out there. If you really would rather stay here I won’t force you to come,” he said matter-of-factly. “But I would really appreciate the company, and I know Laura would love to meet the two of you.”

Natalia shifted, putting one foot on the floor. She looked at you and you knew she wanted to go, but wouldn’t if you said no. But oh, you would do anything for her. Subtly you nodded. You didn’t care how much you were struggling, you’d pull yourself together for the weekend. “We’re in.”

You pushed yourself off the couch and went back to your room to pack what little you had. All of your clothes were plain which you didn’t mind, but something about knowing they were SHIELD issue left you feeling claustrophobic. You gripped a black dress shirt in your hand a little tighter than you needed to. To you it screamed, you are not free. We own you now. You threw your toothbrush and toothpaste in alongside the clothes before stopping at the bedside table. Carefully you pulled open the drawer and snagged a little necklace from inside. Tucking it into a side pocket you jogged out to find Natalia and Barton waiting in the lobby.

Barton’s truck was nowhere near extravagant, but it held a sort of coziness that only came from years of ownership. Natasha sat in the passenger seat while you took the back, wincing when you found the lack of legroom. The interior smelled of old air freshener, dirt, and worn leather. “Strap in,” he said. “We’ve got a long ride ahead of us.”

Barton tuned the radio to play Christmas music and introduced you to his atrocious singing as he belted along to ‘Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town’. As you left the thick jungle of Washington D.C. and moved west across Virginia the city whipped away as the sun traveled across the sky. When you reached the interstate proper and were well away from the prying eyes of the urban center you finally allowed yourself to relax a little. Natalia began to hum along to a new song, a small smile on her face. Barton turned the volume up a notch and you leaned your head against the cool window pane, eyes tracking the snow covered countryside.

At a gas station in Ohio Natalia asked to switch seats with you. She curled up in the back using a sweatshirt as a pillow and closed her eyes, pretending to sleep. You checked the rearview every few minutes and eventually she had fallen asleep for real, lips parted slightly and breathing slowing down.

Barton had given up on his singing endeavor and had reduced himself to whistling and tapping the steering wheel to the beat of the radio. As you passed a sign welcoming you to Indiana he spoke up. “Okay, truth time,” he said, stealing a concerned glance at you before staring back at the two lane road before him. The truck's wheels ate up yards of the sun bleached asphalt. “Can I be honest with you?”

“Yes,” you said.

“Don’t take this the wrong way but you’re not gonna kill me in my sleep tonight, right?” He asked, trying his best to clear the nerves from his voice.

“No. I like you, Barton. And even if I did not I owe you a great debt,” you said.

A crease formed on his brow. “A debt?”

You looked back at the woman sleeping soundly in the back of the truck. Her feet were tucked up on the seat, head laying on a sweatshirt stuffed in between the window and the headrest. You thought it might have been the most at peace you’ve ever seen her. “Yeah,” you breathed. “For giving her a better life.” One that I never could, you thought.

“I didn’t do it looking for any favors. Not from her, and certainly not from you or Fury,” he insisted. “Fury was pissed of course. He knew who I was when he hired me, but I still think he underestimated my loyalty to my gut. And you,” he said, nodding in your direction. “You were a wildcard no one saw coming.”

“Good or bad?” You asked, already sure of the answer.

“To be honest, I’m not sure yet. I think that’s still up to you,” he said.

You held a groan back. Moral dilemmas made your head ache. You’d wanted a straight answer. Tell me how to be good. “What do you mean?”

He ran a hand through his hair, spiking it up in three different ways. “Well, you’re good out in the field. Like scary good, and I know you’ll watch my back. That’s the most important thing,” he said. “But then we get back and I see you pacing around the compound like you’re stuck in a cage. I guess I’m just not sure what’s going through your head.”

You clenched and unclenched your fist, overcome with the urge to tell the other man more than you’d told any of the SHIELD shrinks in a year. He felt safe and genuine, but you knew that was an impossibility; you knew people to be horrid pretenders. You opened your mouth anyway, Natalia’s urges for you to try ringing in your ears. “I can follow orders on a mission no problem. Shut off my brain and listen to authority. Protect your team, take the shot, retrieve the files. That is what I was built for,” you sighed, eyeing Barton warily. Waiting for him to snap at you. “But when the job is done, and I have time to sit and think on it…I feel like I have just ripped myself in half.”

“That’s, well, that’s some intense shit,” he said, tipping his head. “What I can tell you though, with absolute certainty, is that General Dreykov is a bad man. For me, for SHIELD, for her…” Clint said. You knew very well who he was referring to. “There’s no gray area there, man. We’re going to shut him down.”

“I know," you said, short and quick. You knew that's what they all said, but Dreykov had protected you for a long time. He had raised you. He had loved you as his own. You didn't want to see him in a cell, or worse, in a grave. “I cannot get it straight in my head. Everyone has been telling me that working for SHIELD is a step toward being better, to making something of myself. If that is true, then how come the longer I am here the more I feel like I am betraying everything that makes me me?” You knew why. Something inside you was broken and twisted beyond repair. It made you see the world backward. Everyone around you could smell the festering rot of the mangled heart inside your chest. They just needed an excuse to put you down for good.

“Well, you are just about the most Russian person I’ve ever met,” he said. You tried your very best not to glare at him when he looked over. “Before about five minutes ago the only sentences I’d ever heard you speak were two word acknowledgements in the field. And the accent. You’re playing it up, right?”

“Maybe a little.” You were more than capable of fixing it and putting on an American one, but you felt entitled to keep this little part of yourself. To remind yourself and everyone else where you came from. The pressure to conform was a constant torrent but you refused to let them win, for better or for worse.

“As for actual advice…I would say don’t look at it from a good versus bad perspective. In this field, none of us are really good. Not even at SHIELD. I don’t care what some of those righteous assholes think. Forget what anyone told you before and what anyone tells you now,” he said, drumming his fingers along the steering wheel. “Take a step back and compare the before and the now. How did it make you feel?” He asked, stressing the you. “What cause do you believe in? Tough thing is there’s not a right and a wrong answer. Took me a hell of a long time to figure out what I thought about it all. I used to operate strictly outside of the law and now I’m a fed,” he said, shrugging. “Just know I’m rooting for you.”

“And if I come to a conclusion you do not agree with?”

“I’ll make sure to give you a headstart,” he said, winking and throwing you a playful smirk.

“Ah, I am grateful Barton,” you said, cracking a smile. It felt good, like feeling the sun on your face after being inside for a long time. You reveled in the feeling while it lasted.

“No. No more of that Barton stuff. It’s Clint.” He said, shaking his head. “Unless we’re on a mission. Then it’s Hawkeye.”

“The infamous Hawkeye. Tell me, Clint. Where do you get a name like that?” You could tell he was fond of the alias.

“Would you believe me if I told you it’s from the circus?”

A million questions crowded your mind. You looked over, mouth hanging open. You didn’t know much about circuses. They had shown you all a cartoon once about an elephant that had giant ears and could fly. It led the other circus animals in a rebellion against the human handlers. In the end the ringmaster cut its ears off and strung them up as a lesson against exceptionalism. “You were in the circus?” You asked.

“Even better,” he answered. “I was raised up in one.”

“Did you have elephants?”

“No,” he scoffed, chuckling. “We were classier than that. All acrobats and good old fashioned theatrics. I used to sharpshoot. Struck apples off of people’s heads. That sort of thing. Although when I wasn’t on stage I was running through the audience, taking wallets out of pockets.”

You squinted your eyes at him. “Baby Barton raising hell. I can see it. And it would explain the mess in here.” You scuffed your shoe on the floor, stirring up bits of dirt and dried mud. Items crowded the backseat next to Natalia. A winter coat, a pair of sneakers, a hunting knife, handle worn from use. The cupholders were stuffed with old receipts and loose change, and something rattled in the glove box everytime the truck took a left turn.

“It’s messy in here?” He asked, glancing about the cabin. “I don’t think it’s too bad.”

“You are funny.”

“No, I'm being completely serious. Doesn’t everyone’s car kinda look like this?” His bewilderment would be slightly endearing if you weren’t such a neat freak.

“No, not really. I will help you clean over the holiday,” you said, leaving no room for protest. “I cannot stand the ride back like this.”

“If you insist. Just don’t throw anything out without running it by me. I promise everything in here is important.”

“Whatever you say,” you said, eyeing a stack of coffee cups wedged in the door.

“Can I ask something? I mean, I don’t want to overstep.” You were learning Clint did not do well with silence.

“Go ahead.”

“What’s the deal with you and Natasha? Are you dating? It’s been killing me trying to figure the two of you out.”

“No, uh, we are not,” you stuttered. “We are friends.” Even that label seemed to hold too much weight. You weren’t supposed to have friends. And to befriend one of the Widows no less. You were above them, primed to not only serve the Red Room, but to be the embodiment of its crusade. Dreykov’s right hand. The Taskmaster.

Clint had the nerve to scoff. “I’ve seen you just about butcher an entire compound of enemy combatants without batting an eye. And you can never ever tell Fury this but you intimidate the other agents more than he does.” He took one hand off the wheel and stretched it out, flexing his fingers. “And as far as I can tell the only person who can get you to listen to anyone but yourself…” He pointedly stared at the rearview mirror. “I didn’t even recognize you earlier back at SHIELD. You looked so, unagitated. Like you finally managed to dislodge that stick up your ass.”

“Ha, ha,” you laughed dryly. “You know, I am going to find something to shove up your ass.”

“You were letting her lay on you like a cat. You can’t tell me you guys haven’t slept together.”

You glared at his profile until he got the hint and faced you. “That is none of your business.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry I crossed a line,” he said. Your chest twisted with an unfamiliar sensation. One that made its way to your face in not quite a smile, but certainly an expression of gratitude. You bit down hard on the inside of your cheek. Apologies were new for you.

“It is alright,” you said, vehemence leaving your voice. “It is just complicated. We had,” you hesitated and took a deep breath. “We had more than we should have in, um…before. They tried to keep us apart, make me think she was as heartless as the rest of the world.” You stared out the windshield, not willing to risk eye contact with Barton. A bug came flying at the truck and splattered green guts right in your eyeline. “And for a while I believed them. I hated her. But I was wrong. It is actually the opposite. Natalia is just, she is good. She stupidly stuck by me and dragged my head up from the sand when I was intent on suffocating myself.”

“I’m no expert, just a guy with a wife and a couple of kids, but that sounds a damn lot like love to me,” he said.

A choir of sardonic voices roused to action in the forefront of your mind. What do you know of love? You bite the hand that needs you, do you understand? You bite it clean off. A bitter laugh lunged from your throat before you could stop it. “You are wrong. Love is a fantasy to hold over the heads of the masses.”

“Wow.” Clint blinked dramatically, twice. “I didn’t think it was possible, but you just got even more Russian.”

“Fuck off, Hawkeye,” you said, grinning freely.

“Seriously though, I’ll never understand what you guys went through. Not in any way that counts, but the fact you made it out together tells me how fucking strong the both of you are.” He flicked his gaze to you. “There’s something there for you to think about too, but you gotta find it on your own.”

But you would rather take a knife to the chest than admit to harboring any sort of four letter words for Natalia. “Wait, you have a kid?” You asked, turning the conversation back on Barton.

“Yeah,” he said, smile reaching up to crinkle the corners of his eyes. “I have two now, if you can believe it. My oldest is Cooper. He’s a little over three. Lila is the baby. They’re why I was a little nervous about bringing you out. My number one priority, before SHIELD, before the mission, before myself are those kids.”

“And you were driving me all this way worried that I would turn on you? That I might hurt your kids?”

“Well, you know. Don’t trust anyone, especially other spies. Especially Russian spies if you’re American. I was fairly sure, but there was a voice in the back of my head asking ‘what if,’ and I had to ask,” he admitted.

You wanted to tell him you’d never hurt a little kid. That he shouldn’t have worried. Except you had, so so many times before. “How do you feel now?” You asked instead.

“A lot better. Glad to know you’re not a robot.” Silence grew as the radio paused in between songs. You laid back against the seat and watched the plains rush by outside. The speakers came back to life and a new sickeningly cheery jingle began to play. “I love this one,” Clint said, turning the volume back up. He hummed with contentment and drummed his fingers on the wheel, looking over at you. “I am going to teach you all about the joy of Christmas music, just you wait.”

“Oh, great,” you remarked wryly. The small grin on your face however betrayed your stark tone. Maybe this place wasn’t so bad after all.

—

The old Chevy fought its way up the snow covered path toward the farmhouse in the middle of the field. White and red lights hung from the roof and wrapped the pillars of the porch in heartwarming hues. A little plastic snowman stood ambassador to the front door, waving a mittened hand and welcoming the incoming entourage. Clint parked a couple dozen yards from the house, grumbling about how he’d have to dig the truck out before he left again. Natalia hopped out, eyes wide as she took in the home. Your breath puffed out in visible clouds, but you hardly felt the cold. You were raised in the deathly Russian winters.

The front door cracked open, a woman standing silhouetted in the warm light behind her. “Clinton Francis Barton! You better get inside right now,” she said, a wide smile brightening her voice.

“Clinton?” Natalia asked, walking close behind Barton up to the porch.

“Yeah, yeah. Now you know my biggest secret.” He trudged up the stairs, snowflakes dusting his shoulders and hair. Laura met him in the doorway with a kiss. “Sorry we’re a little late,” he said.

“You’re excused this time, but only because you brought guests,” she said. Up close you could see she had big brown eyes and brown hair that fell to her shoulders. The inside of the house beckoned, the haze of meat and pine wafting outside. You dragged your feet along the stairs. You didn’t belong here. “Get inside now, you’re letting all the heat escape.” She patted Barton on the butt as he trod inside, fondness lacing her eyes as she looked after him. Natalia stood at the entryway, not yet stepping up into the house. “I mean you two as well,” Laura insisted, ushering you through the door.

“Daddy!” A little boy came barrelling around a corner, wrapping his arms around Clint’s leg and staring up at him with a toothy grin. The house immediately opened up into the living room, a worn brown couch facing a fireplace and an evergreen tree adorned with ornaments and twinkling lights. To your left a staircase spiraled upward and disappeared to a second floor. You stomped your shoes off on a welcome mat, watching the slush melt away.

A drumbeat of footsteps pattered your way and suddenly the child was wrapped around your leg, his fingers digging into your calf. Your muscles tensed and you began to lift your leg to shake him off, heart in your throat.

“Coop!” Laura scolded. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into him. He’s usually pretty shy around strangers.”

But Cooper didn’t listen and you didn’t kick him away. This kid was not a threat. He ogled up at you with wide eyes the same shade as his mother’s and hair somehow blonder than his father’s. “Hi. I’m Cooper,” he said with the grace of someone just learning to speak.

“Hi,” you said, heat rushing to your cheeks at being startled by a three year old.

“Who are you?” He asked.

“I am a friend of your father’s,” you said, also telling him your name.

“Looks like you’ve been replaced, Clint,” Laura teased. “Come on, buddy, let’s get up. Daddy’s got to show them upstairs.”

But he only sank down further, sitting firmly on your shoe and jutting his lip in a pout. “Walk with me.”

You looked at Natalia, a tender smile on her face. “It’s alright,” you told Laura. “I can take him upstairs.”

“Are you sure?” She asked. “I can make him get down.”

“Yeah.” You couldn’t explain the tight feeling in your chest whenever the boy smiled up at you. “Are you ready?” He nodded eagerly and you took a step, following Clint up the stairs. Cooper giggled the entire time, clinging on with little hands.

“I hope you guys are okay with sharing a room. We’ve got Coop and Lila in their own rooms right now. Lila keeps you up at night, doesn’t she buddy?”

He nodded against your knee. “Lila cries a lot.”

“This is great,” Natalia said. “Thank you.” You and her still slept in separate rooms, but at this point you would have been willing to sleep out in the barn if he told you to. You hadn’t realized how crazy you’d been in that SHIELD compound. The wind whipping against your face outside had been like finally breathing deeply after having your head held underwater.

“The door on the end is the master bedroom,” Clint said, pointing left down the hall. “That’s Coop’s room, then there’s the nursery, the bathroom, and finally,” he stopped, opening a door to the right. “Here’s the guest room. I’ll let you guys get settled. Take your time. I’m going to help Laura get the table set.” He knelt down, scooping Cooper up under his arms and lifting him high in the air. The toddler shrieked as Clint settled him on his shoulders and stomped downstairs.

You set your bag down as Natalia moved around the room, running her hand over the nicely made bed. You cleared your throat, nerves and a foreign feeling clashing in your mind. “I can sleep on the floor.”

She turned to you sharply. “You know I would never ask you to do that.”

“I know. But I am offering.” You walked over to the window, pushing the curtain open and peering outside. You couldn’t see much of anything, even with your enhanced eyesight. Even still, the countryside was a refreshing landscape after being firmly locked in the city. But the wilderness sheltered different threats. The red dot of a laser sight burned your retinas, and glowing yellow eyes stared blankly back at you.

Natalia pulled your hand into hers, lacing your fingers together. “We’re okay here,” she mumbled into your shoulder as if reading your mind.

“Do you really believe that?”

“I do,” she said, coming to stand in front of you. You wrapped your arms around her and rested your chin on top of her head, imagining you could shield her from all harm this way. “Listen.”

You strained your ears, searching for alarming sounds. The wind outside stirred quietly, enough to flurry the falling snow, but not so aggressive as to rap the window pane. Beyond that there was only quiet. No footsteps prowling around the back of the house. No click of a rifle’s safety being switched off. “I do not hear anything,” you said.

“You’re listening for the wrong things,” she said.

You frowned, glancing around the quiet room. Through the closed door the lazy tune of an American Christmas song made its way to your ears. You recognized the singer. Elvis Presley. The King of Rock and Roll. Laughter charged the music with a warm undercurrent. The infectious snicker that belonged to Barton mixed with the high-pitched giggle of his son to create a different kind of melody. You dropped your shoulders and let all of the air out of your lungs. Natalia pulled you closer until her spine pressed flush into your front. Her hands felt like ice, but you didn’t mind. You had always run hot.

“Barton asked me if we were a couple on the ride up,” you said.

“Oh yeah? And what did you say?” She asked, watching the snow swirl in arcs outside. The wind rushed down, only for the next gust to excite the flakes into the navy sky again.

“I told him it was complicated. And that we are friends.”

“And what if we made it less complicated?”

You pulled away to tug off your sweatshirt, feeling feverishly warm. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, what if we gave it a shot? We can call it what we want, we don’t have to call it anything at all. You could stay in my room some nights, or I could stay in yours. Maybe I’d let you kiss me,” she said, scrunching her nose and lifting one eyebrow.

You laid the shirt on the bed, folding it into a tight little rectangle. The offer dangled in the vanilla scented air, taunting you. There must be a candle burning downstairs. You wanted so badly to say yes. To give yourself over to Natalia completely. Somewhere in between your heart and your throat the words got caught. A dark entity snagged what you wanted to say in its rows of jagged teeth and ripped it to shreds. “I think our friendship works,” you said.

“Yeah, you’re right,” she sighed. “I was being selfish.”

“No, you were not. You could never be selfish. I am sorry,” you said, kneeling beside your bag and placing the sweatshirt inside. You would slit your own throat if Natalia Romonava asked you to. How cruel was it that you couldn’t tell her you cared?

She crossed the softly lit bedroom, coming to rest by the door where you hung your head in defeat. “There’s nothing you need to be sorry for,” she said. Her voice washed over you and carried away some of the pain in your chest like the sea’s cool tide. Her fingers combed through the short hairs at the base of your neck. You leaned into her, resting your forehead on her leg. She smelled of the air after a storm and the beginnings of a fresh wound. “Come on. Let’s get downstairs before they put out a search warrant.”

You pushed yourself from the ground, an all too familiar action, and followed her into the greater expanse of the house.

“There you are,” Clint greeted, pulling cups out of a cabinet. “Just in time.”

“Hi,” Laura smiled, crossing the kitchen and offering a hand. “I didn’t properly introduce myself before. I’m Laura.”

“Natasha,” Natalia said, shaking the woman’s hand.

“Cooper, come wash your hands!” Clint called. The boy ran in from the living room, making a beeline for the sink.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Barton,” you said, clasping her hand. Her palm held faded callouses.

“Oh, please. It’s Laura. You come to my house, you call me Laura. Gosh, Mrs. Barton makes me feel old,” she said, smiling good-naturedly. “You two make me feel old. How old are you?”

“Twenty one,” Natalia answered.

“Oh, wow,” she blinked widely. “Clint, you’ve got a run for your money. You might have to retire soon.”

“Tell me about it,” he said. “You should try sparring with Nat, hon. I’ve never been more sore in my life.” Clint scooped Cooper up and set him at the table. “Alright buddy hang tight, I’m gonna go grab your sister.”

“How are you guys doing at SHIELD? Fury not giving you too much grief I hope,” Laura said, grabbing a couple of plates and handing them over.

“You know Fury?” Natalia asked, recalculating the other woman.

“Oh, yeah. I knew Fury before he was such a hotshot. I knew him when he was still an ambitious agent gunning for the reins.” She scooped a bunch of mac and cheese into a bowl and carried it around to Cooper. “Feels like yesterday I was in the field though.”

“You were a SHIELD agent?” You asked, interest peaked.

“Yep. Had a fancy codename too. People used to call me the Mockingbird.” The three of you settled at the table, plates filled with turkey and potatoes and sauteed green beans. “Don’t tell Clint I told you this but when he joined he chased after me for months before I’d even look in his direction. Don’t let him ever fool you, he’s always been a big dork.”

“Don’t tell Clint what now?” He asked, walking in with a baby in his arms. She couldn’t have been more than six months old. Natalia’s eyes went wide, her mouth parted open. She looked as if she were about to spring from her chair. You knew she had a soft spot for kids, but didn’t know it ran this deep. You looked from her to the baby and back again, head tilting. She’d never looked that excited to see you.

“Just sharing your most embarrassing moments,” Laura said.

“Great.” He took a seat, cradling the baby in one hand and picking a fork up in the other. He pointed the utensil across the table at you and Natalia. “Just remember I’m still your superior,” he said.

“The food is great, Laura,” you said in between bites. You forced yourself to slow down. You guessed you hadn’t realized how hungry you were until you sat down. SHIELD cafeteria food was certainly less than subpar.

“Thank you. Clint, you better take notes from this one. The kid has better manners than you.”

“I’ll have you know that you chose to marry me,” he retorted.

“That I did,” she conceded, dipping her head. “And I’ve never had cause to regret it…so far.”

“So far? Clint asked. “How could you ever say no to this face?” He jutted his bottom lip out and pouted.

Laura shook her head and grinned, almond eyes sparkling. “You are a child. I’m raising three children.” She turned away from her husband. “Anyway, I was asking you two about SHIELD. Clint told me you’ve taken the place by storm.”

“It’s been good,” Natalia answered carefully. In the face of two senior agents, you had to choose your words carefully, even if one of them was retired from the organization. She donned a coy smile you recognized as one reserved for when she was chasing an objective and dipped her chin, peering up at the couple. “Everyone’s just been so great. We’ve been getting along perfectly, haven’t we?”

You took the signal and nodded in agreement. “I have found SHIELD to be an exceptional establishment.”

“I honestly think Fury would take that as an insult,” Clint said. “There’s no penalty for criticism. There’s a reason we’re spies and not soldiers.”

Natalia tilted her head, listening. You knew she gave the archer’s words considerable weight. “I think the director would agree that it’s considerably better than where we came from,” she said. “Which makes it near perfect in my eyes.”

Your leg bounced underneath the table, on the verge of taking off. To hear Natalia sing the song of American praise grated on your nerves. The worst thing was that she sounded genuine. She liked working under Fury. To you SHIELD was a pit stop on the way to a new life. For the woman who everyone underestimated and no one but you could decipher however, there was no escape plan, no next step. She’d convinced herself this was home.

“I’ll drink to that,” Clint said. “I’m where I am now because of SHIELD. And I wouldn’t trade this for the world.”

Laura practically beamed. “You sweet talker. I love you.” The feeling like you didn’t belong here roiled over you like a nauseating fever. You snapped to attention when you heard your name. “How are you adjusting?” Laura asked, eyes far too sympathetic.

“Fine,” you grimaced. You couldn’t help but think back on the lengths SHIELD had gone to glean information from you and remold you to a proper agent. In the end, they had been weaker than you. You were cast iron forged in the backwoods of Russia. You did not adjust. You did not yield.

“What does Fury have you working on?” She asked. “I know I can’t have the details anymore. I don’t think I’d want them anyhow, but...He’s getting you guys back out there all right?”

“Yeah. They call us Strike Team Alpha. We have been working with Agents Coulson and Hill to–,” you cut yourself off. You had been working to track down the Red Room and formulate a strategy to take out Dreykov. You complied enough to be deemed cooperative, but kept vital intelligence to yourself. Even still, time trickled away like sand in an hourglass. They’d have him before long, and you weren’t certain you could stick around to see it through. “We have been busy,” you pivoted. “We work with Clint a lot. Your husband is a good man.”

“That he is,” she agreed. “But don’t discount yourself either.”

“Do not worry,” you said. “I know exactly what kind of person I am.”

“We all think we know who we are,” Laura said. “But most of the time it’s not as simple as we think. Lives are multi-faceted and it’s impossible to understand every part of ourselves as we should.”

“She’s right, you know,” Clint added. “I never thought I’d work for the government, much less ever be a father. But here I am.” He looked down on the sleeping baby tucked in his arm, running a thumb over her chubby cheek.

Under the table Natalia tugged on your pinky finger, intertwining her finger with yours. She squeezed softly and the action sent a current all the way to your heart. She had a smile on her face when you looked over, cat-green eyes glimmering with hope. “See?” She asked. “We can be whoever we want to be now.”

You nodded, even if it was just to reassure the woman beside you. Without order, without someone’s heels to follow you didn’t know who you were. And the prospect of discovering you weren’t worthy of all you’d been given...well that scared you more than the thought of a bullet carving a neat hole through your brain.

Clint cleared his throat and stood, walking to the counter and grabbing more food. You stared at your now empty plate, stealing a glance back at the countertop with the dishes of food. You stamped down on the flare of desire in your stomach, sitting silently and stacking your hands in your lap. “You can have more,” Laura said gently.

You shook your head quickly. “I am alright.” You were to never take more than what was allotted.

“I’m serious, we’ll never eat all of this food. Please, take more,” she insisted.

You nodded, slowly getting up and slinking away from the wooden dining table. Natalia picked up the conversation. “So, you don’t work for SHIELD anymore then?”

“No,” Laura said. “I opted out of field work when I got pregnant with Cooper and when we decided to have Lila I took myself out of the game completely. Even being a deskbound spy has a way of taking over your life.” She picked up a napkin and wiped Cooper’s cheesy face off. “At that point I knew I had greater priorities than to SHIELD. Being a parent wouldn’t be everyone’s first choice but it was the right decision for me. We moved out here from the city a little over a year ago.”

“What do you do now?” Natalia asked.

“I’m a counselor for military personnel and veterans,” she said as you sat down again. Your foot caught on one of the legs and the table jumped a few inches.

“Sorry,” you cringed, gingerly pushing it back into place.

Cooper’s eyes went wide and he clapped his hands together with little coordination. “Again.”

“The table is pretty dense,” Laura explained. “We had trouble moving it in here and now Cooper’s made a game out of trying to push it around. Clint won’t touch it though, he’s worried he’ll hurt his back.”

“Ah,” you said, staring down at your lap. You didn’t like people knowing how strong you were. Nothing good had ever come from it. The serum was a fear tactic, a killer’s tool. The doctor’s at SHIELD had been practically drooling with questions when they found out, needles armed and ready behind their backs. “Must be lighter than you remember.”

“I’m done,” Cooper announced, slamming his spoon down.

“Cooper Barton!” Laura chastised. “What do we say when we’re done?”

The toddler grumbled, pushing his empty bowl away. “May I be excused?”

“Yes you may,” his mother answered.

He jumped from his chair and ran around the table back to the living room. Clint ruffled his thick brown hair as he sped past. “Attaboy,” he saluted.

Laura carried the dishes over to the sink, running the water and filling the basin. You stood abruptly, snapping to attention. “I can take care of it.” You’d been sitting around for too long and letting people work for you. You needed to do something with your hands. She waved you off, not sparing a glance. “Please,” you said, ants crawling beneath your skin.

She turned to you and something on your face must have given you away. “Okay. You’re not going to hear any argument from me.”

You gathered up the rest of the plates from the table and scraped the food scraps into the trash. Chore rotations had been part of the routine growing up and the repetitive nature of scrubbing plate after plate calmed you some.

“Let me help,” Clint offered, handing the baby off to Laura and joining you in the kitchen.

“Why don’t we go out to the den?” Laura offered to Natalia. “Let the boys clean up in here.” She whispered into the redhead’s ear as they left the room. You couldn’t make out the words.

You handed a clean plate to Clint for him to dry. “Thank you,” you said. The kitchen was cozy, all wooden floors and off-white countertops. The fridge stood across from the sink, decorated in crayon drawings and various magnets in the shape of dinosaurs.

“You’re welcome. Laura gets on me all the time for forgetting to clean up anyway. Figured I could earn some points while I’m home.”

“I meant for bringing us here,” you clarified. “It has been, nice.” Nice was a safe word. “You have a nice home. You were right. I think I was–hm, what is the term? Something crazy. Like when you are stuck inside for too long.”

“Stir crazy?”

“Ah yes. I was being stir crazy,” you said. “I am glad to be far away from the compound, from the job, all of it.”

“You were going stir crazy, not being stir crazy,” he said.

“Ah. I do not struggle with languages too much, but the figures of speech are always difficult to follow.”

“I’m glad you’re comfortable here. It’s nice to be able to share this with someone,” he admitted. “Fury is literally the only other person who knows about this part of my life. It’s kind of exhausting walking around pretending it doesn’t exist.”

LIttle footsteps came pounding around the corner and into the kitchen. Cooper crashed into Clint’s leg, tugging on his shirt to get his attention. “Mama said I have to help. Lila is sleeping,” he panted.

“Why don’t you dry this off for me, bud?” Clint handed him a rag and a plastic cup.

You watched the boy as he cleaned the cup, tongue poking out of the side of his mouth. “I will protect your secret, Clint. I know Nata-” You caught yourself before finishing the second half of her name. “Natasha will too.” The sound still felt awkward on your tongue.

“Thank you,” he said, laying a warm hand on your shoulder. The muscles in your back tensed, pinching your shoulder blades together. You inhaled and counted to five. You didn’t pull away. “I’ve made a lot of dumb decisions in my life, and I mean a lot. Taking a chance on the two of you though…that I don’t think I’ll ever regret.”

Part of you preened at the praise, no matter who’s lips it fell from. The other part reared at the fact you responded to someone other than your designated handlers. “You are welcome,” you said.

“Done!” Cooper announced, handing the dry cup back to his father. “Can I go play now?”

“Yeah, sure bud. We’ll be right out.”

You put the last plate away and drained the sink before joining Natalia and Laura in the living room. You froze when you rounded the corner and saw Natalia. She held Lila in her arms, the most tender smile on her face as she watched over the baby. Laura knelt by the fireplace, stoking the logs before shutting the grate. The mantle held little framed photographs of the Barton family and red and green stockings hung over the fire. A Christmas tree stood in the corner, yellow lights shining like halos. A star topped the tree, inches away from scraping the ceiling. Natalia sat on the couch cradling the baby as she played with one of her fingers.

Cooper slid onto the bench at an upright piano, mashing away at the keys. “Not right now, Coop,” Clint said. “You ought to be winding down for bed. We all have to be asleep for when Santa comes, remember?” You blinked at the instrument, starstruck. Longing filled your chest like air in a balloon.

“Fine,” he whined, but listened and scooted from the bench.

Natalia swiveled her head, careful not to shift and disturb Lila. “Does one of you play?”

“I used to when I was little,” Laura said. “The piano belonged to my grandparents originally. I don’t think I could play much of anything anymore.”

“I can play.” Clint piped up.

“Twinkle Twinkle Little Star does not count, babe.”

“You know who can play?” Natalia spoke up. You imagined the expression on her face, one eyebrow raised and mouth poised in a smirk.

“Who?” Cooper asked, rounding the couch and sitting on the coffee table.

“I’ll give you a hint,” she said. “They’re in the room with us right now.”

“Is it me?” He pointed to himself, little eyebrows furrowed as deep as he could make them go.

“Nope,” Natalia answered, voice sing-song sweet.

“Is it you?” He twisted his head to the side and pointed at Natalia. She shook her head and Cooper looked around the room, eyes catching on his mother and father before landing on you. “Your friend,” he said.

“Yep,” she said. You could hear the smile in her voice.

“I knew it. I knew it,” he insisted.

You tore your gaze away from the piano as attention fell onto you. “Oh.” You waved them off. “I would not say I could play. I posed as a pianist in a hotel lobby for a mission once a long time ago. Memorized some music that is all. I am not classically trained.” You crossed your arms to ward off the unease that accompanied so many eyes on you.

“Do you still know it?” Laura asked.

“Yeah, I do.” Your peculiar memory would never allow you to forget. And you’d never tell a soul, but sitting there at a piano all night long had made you feel alive in a way nothing had before. But that couldn’t be. Musicians were jesters, and you were no fool.

“We’d love to hear it,” Laura said, picking Cooper up and settling down with him on her lap. “If you’re comfortable. I hate the thought of the piano just turning into decor.”

“Okay,” you said. You were never one to shy away from a task. “I am afraid I do not know any Christmas songs.”

“That’s all right. I’m sure whatever you know will be beautiful,” Laura encouraged.

Clint stood in the corner, eyes upturned to the ceiling. He perked up, springing into action. “I’ll be right back,” he said, jogging upstairs.

You took a seat on the polished wooden bench, stroking the keys and marveling at the instrument. You warmed up, playing a couple scales and conjuring the music in your mind’s eye. The patterns were as fresh as the day you had played them. The notes from the aged piano were by no means comparable to that of the expensive grand you’d used before, but somehow the music sounded sweeter here. As you struck the opening bars of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata you craned your neck to find Natalia’s gaze. She smiled at you and you couldn’t help but mirror the expression. Your heart picked up its beating and your head buzzed with a strange feeling. You felt as if you might explode with it.

You took to the music like you took to fighting, or dancing. You didn’t struggle with movement like other people did. Ever since you could remember you could watch and replicate. Eventually you learned to mimic a fighter’s strategy so that you could predict their next moves. Flay their neck into a gushing fountain before they could touch you.

Your foot pumped the pedal in time with your left hand and when you closed your eyes you could see the notes weaving into the dark. You liked how the music elicited harmony instead of chaos. Music didn’t scrape the skin from your knuckles or leave you lying on the floor with the world spinning around you. You changed the song, easing into Chopin’s Nocturne in E Flat.

Clint came marching down the stairs, CD player in one hand and a disk in the other. He stayed quiet for a moment, busying himself with finding an outlet to plug the player into. Finding a natural way to end the song prematurely, you slowed your hands and lightened the force with which you struck the keys. Clint stood near the other end of the couch, doing his best to look patient.

“Barton?” You asked.

“I told you earlier that I was going to teach you the joy of Christmas music,” he said. “Well, here you go. Now you can play along and really appreciate the music.” He knelt down and pressed the play button.

An easy tune filled the living room, bathing all in attendance in a sense of peace. Time seemed to slow, and for a moment, you forgot about the world outside of the farmhouse. All that mattered was the family reaching out in embrace, two parents and a little boy. Their smiles shone brighter than the blazing fire in the hearth. You watched the woman settled on the couch, absorbed by the baby in her arms. She looked up at you as you traced the curve of her jaw with your eyes. Natalia’s pupils were wide when she met your gaze, and she caught her bottom lip between her teeth. You looked away first to stare at the piano instead, focusing on the music instead of the way your cheeks warmed in a way that had nothing to do with the temperature.

You caught onto the song as it began to repeat, taking a shallow breath before following along. Just like with anything else music obeyed a pattern. Once you unlocked the way the parts fit together, the rest of the song revealed itself to you. All you had to do was continue the line of code. The next track played, prompting Cooper to sing along. Imperfection had never sounded so flawless.

The CD turned out song after song and you let yourself get lost in the game. You didn’t recognize any of the pieces, but Christmas music had a distinctive charm to it. Some might call it magical. You sat back for the first thirty seconds of each song, picking out the tempo and key. The notes charged your hands with energy which you poured out into the latter half of the song. Each one was unique, a victorious smile forming on your face when you pulled together the entire arrangement in your head.

When the tracklist ended you took a breath, feeling lighter than you had in a long time. Laura took Lila from Natalia, holding her tight against her shoulder. Her hand, a mother’s hand, rested on the sleeping baby’s back. “I’m going to put her down,” she said, just loud enough to be heard.

“Hey bud.” Clint gently shook Cooper awake from where he’d fallen asleep on the couch against his leg. “It’s time to brush our teeth and go to bed.”

The boy only turned further into Clint’s body, refusing to be stirred.

Clint stood and picked him up. “I’ll be right back,” he said.

Only after his footsteps had receded upstairs did either one of you move. Natalia pushed herself from the couch and stretched. Her arms extended toward the ceiling with a dancer’s grace. She took a seat next to you on the bench and laid her head on your shoulder. “That was amazing,” she said. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“That is all you,” you said. “I did not know you were so good with babies.”

“Me neither,” she admitted. “When Laura asked me to hold her I was so nervous at first. I thought I might drop her or pinch her or that I’d make her cry.” She lifted her head, her gaze soft as a lamb’s. You wanted to preserve it so that no one may ever taint it, including from yourself. “But she was okay.”

“That is because you are a good person. They say babies have a sixth sense for that sort of thing. Like dogs.”

“But, I’ve hurt so many people,” she said, voice fragile like a twig in a storm. “I’m afraid…I'm afraid I’ll never be able to redeem myself.”

“No. Do not say that, Natalia. You are the best person I know. The fact you care so much means you are already there.” You huffed a quick exhale. “I think you are the only person who cannot see how big your heart is.”

“They say the holidays are for spending time with the people you love the most,” she whispered, tracing the lines on your palm with her finger.

You stayed quiet.

“I’m glad that I’m here with you,” she said.

Another window, another chance to dive off the deep end. I think I’m in love with you, you thought. The laws of society had been drilled into your head by the Madames and reinforced by what little exposure of the world you’d received. Natalia stood in defiance to all of them. She was a sapling in a field of ash, and refused to be uprooted. She turned to grace like you turned to anger. She was infecting you, and you couldn’t push her away.

Footsteps sounded down the stairs and you shut your previously parted mouth. The words scattered into the recesses of your throat. “Hey guys,” Clint said. “The kids are down and Laura and I still have a lot of Santa’s work to do. You’re more than welcome to stay down here and watch TV or whatever. We’ll be around. Just holler if you need anything.”

“Okay,” Natalia said. “Thank you.” He turned to go. “And Clint. Merry Christmas.” She smiled.

“Merry Christmas,” he said, giving a sharp nod.

You yawned. Between the food and the warmth and the music, tiredness had snuck up on you. “Let’s go upstairs,” Natalia said.

“Okay.” You left the piano behind and made your way upstairs. You brushed your teeth and splashed water on your face in the hall bathroom. The shower curtain was adorned with colorful flaming monster trucks and a little blue step stool gave height before the sink. Cooper must have primary use of this one.

Natalia sat on the edge of the mattress in the bedroom, untangling her braid with deft fingers. You stole a pillow and dropped it on the floor on the other side near the door. “What are you doing?” She asked.

“I am going to sleep.” You didn’t meet her eyes.

“Why are you being weird? We’ve slept in the same bed before,” she said.

“That was different,” you insisted.

“How so?” She asked, infuriatingly patient.

You crossed your arms over your chest and rolled your shoulders back, shadows of old handlers and teachers flickering behind your eyes. “Because…because there were lines before. Ones we did not cross.” Emotional ones. “It was survival. You were a warm body.”

A smudge of hurt clouded over Natalia’s bright eyes. She blinked and it disappeared. “You don’t mean that.”

You paced the length of the room, wishing you could run farther. You meant it and you also didn’t. “Of course not. I am sorry,” you breathed.

“Then come here. All we’re doing is sleeping. I’m not letting you stay on the floor like a dog.” She combed through her hair, waves of red cascading down past her shoulders.

Except it wasn’t just sleeping. If you indulged in this vice once you’d never want to quit it. You’d paw desperately at her door every night. You shook your head and backed away like a spooked horse. “I have slept in worse places.”

“Is it me?” She asked, shoulders slumping with the words. “Do you not trust me?”

“No. No, it is not you.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

You shook your head as if to fling the question away. The problem was that you weren’t cut out for relationships of any kind. Didn’t she know how dangerous you were? Shouldn’t she know that you bit? “There is no problem.”

“I know you well enough to know when you’re not telling me something.” You started to get the feeling this wasn’t really about where you slept anymore.

“Can we talk about this in the morning?” You tried, rubbing furiously at the back of your head.

“No. I hate feeling like you’re not comfortable around me,” she said. “Is there something wrong with me?”

“No. I trust you with my life. You know that.” Your voice cracked at the end. It was never her fault, and you hated yourself for not being able to be what she needed. To reassure and support her. To be normal.

“Then please, tell me what’s going on.”

“I–”

“What are you so afraid of?” She asked the question at barely more than a whisper, but the words lit a spark in you like a gunshot.

“Leave it Natalia,” you commanded in Russian, spinning on your heel. You fixed her with a cold stare, no longer seeing her as you should be. Perched on the bed sat the Black Widow, and she had broken rank.

“No,” she scolded, rising to meet the challenge. “You don’t get to talk to me like that. We are not in the Red Room. Do you understand?” Anyone else and you would have seized them and smacked them clean across the cheek. Anyone else and they’d have a dozen fresh bruises to remind them of their place. But this was Natalia. And you’d never hurt Natalia. You clenched your jaw and drew your lips back, fighting the urge to pound the wall in.

“I hate you.” You felt as if you’d just barely outran an onslaught of attackers, and they were still watching.

“No you don’t,” she said, face still as marble and expressive as a wall of stone.

“Why are you here? Why will you not leave? You are the reason I am like this,” you said, voice cracking as a growing child's did. If it wasn’t for her you’d be perfect, you knew it. Instead she tempted you down a path of distraction, convinced you to embrace weakness.

“I’m here because I will always stand beside you. Always,” she said as if it was all too simple.

“But you left. You were going to die and leave me alone.” Defecting to SHIELD had not been her original plan. Letting them kill her was. Lucky it had been Clint Barton behind the trigger that night. “And now I am stuck here because of you and I hate it.”

“You feel stuck?” For a second the wall slipped and a flash of hurt escaped Natalia’s gaze.

“Yes,” you said. “I do. You ruined my life.” Red hot anger ignited itself within you. And it was all aimed at the woman before you.

“I didn’t make you do anything. I never have,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re here because you know deep down that the Red Room is an awful place. A place that takes little children and beats them into weapons.”

“It made us strong.”

“It broke us.”

You grimaced and kicked aimlessly at the ground. “I still cannot stand it here.” The wrath began to dissipate. Shame swelled to take its place.

“We are safer now than we ever have been.”

“I cannot trust you. You are a Widow. You–You are lying to me. You always have been.” Paranoia twisted smiles into smirks, kind words into carefully crafted scalpels. She’d learn all of your weaknesses and leave you gutted on top of her rotting pile of victims.

“I am not a Widow. Not anymore. Do you understand?”

You grunted an acknowledgement.

“Markov.” She called your surname. “Yes or no.”

“Yes,” you ground out. “I understand.” Regret pooled in your belly like bile. She had asked what you were so afraid of and you’d gone and shown her. The closer Natalia became the less control you felt you had. Emotions twisted together in a whirlwind inside your head, mutating into a throbbing mass of anger. Natalia handled her emotions, always choosing the correct words and wearing the face she wanted people to see. Dreykov had taught you that pretty words were for the Widows and the women. Unchecked, the rage festered until your hands shook with it. “I do not want to hurt you,” you said, switching back to English with an accent hanging heavy over the words.

“I know,” she sighed. “But you do, you know. When you lash out at me it hurts.”

A dozen excuses ran through your head. None of them even came close to making it up. You were just a bad person. “This is why you have to let me sleep on the floor.” You felt as though you’d finally been allowed to regain control of your body after some raging force had overtaken you. It left you dizzy with the shame of your words.

Natalia didn’t say anything. Her green gaze bore straight through you. Vulnerability raked at your spine as if she held your bleeding heart in her fist.

“Please,” you added. You did not beg.

“You can sleep on the floor,” she relented. The cool release of relief soothed your aching mind. “But you have to promise me something.”

“Okay.”

“Promise me that when we get back you’ll work on talking through whatever’s going on in your mind. If not with me that’s fine. But you have to talk to someone.”

The offer was steep. The urge to shut it all in was more than an instinct. Being guarded was the key to your survival. “Fine.” If tearing yourself apart meant Natalia could find peace, you would rip the flesh away yourself. “I can do that.”

She blinked as if she hadn’t expected you to agree. “Here.” She held out a blanket that had been folded at the end of the bed.

“Thank you.” You shut off the light and laid on the floor. For a moment before your eyes adjusted you couldn’t see a thing besides pitch black. Your heart thundered in your chest as shapes began to fall back into focus. The rectangle dresser, the thick bed frame, the moonlight filtering in through the blinds on the window. Covered in the rather large blanket and supported by the carpeted floor you fell asleep.

You dreamt most nights. Vivid atrocities doused in blood and the screams of pigs to the slaughter. The tip of a sword, plunged through the hearts of the guilty and innocent alike. A metal fist, knocking you sideways and ramming you in the face until your eyes swelled shut. Never stopping until its master called it off. Faceless bodies behind surgical masks, watching as you writhed under a spotlight like a bug under a magnifying glass. A burn beneath your skin so violent your jaw locked with the pain and you felt as if you couldn’t even draw the tiniest of breaths.

None of them held a candle to the nightmare that cursed you tonight. It had visited since you were small, and it came often. Not just the feeling, but the memory of being suspended in limbo.

Your limbs froze, even your neck refused to lift your head as you stared at a single spot on the popcorn ceiling. The walls, the fear-soaked smell of your own sweat, the buzz of a lamp to your right all closed in on you. You couldn’t cry, you couldn’t speak, it took everything you had just to breathe.

Time stretched on and all you could do was lay there and stare at the ceiling. You tried to focus on the drone of the lamp instead of the heavy panting a foot away from you. But you never could completely. Your chest constricted with every breath but never reached the point of constriction. Your stomach crackled with repulsion, but bile never rose into your throat. You forever hung teetering on the edge, violation wrapped around your frail body.

I’m trapped. I’m trapped. I’m trapped. I’m–

Your eyes flew open and you sat up, knocking skulls with someone else. A strangled noise leapt from your mouth into the silent air. No buzzing lamp. No heavy breathing besides your own. Your limbs had become tangled in a blanket and you thrashed to free yourself.

Your head snapped up at the sound of your name. The word lassoed your mind and hauled you to the present. Concerned green eyes peered at you in the dark. You knew those eyes. For a second you imagined they belonged to a child no older than thirteen. She wasn’t supposed to be in your room. She wasn’t supposed to see you like this. “What are you doing in here?” You thrust your hand out to keep her away. “Get out.”

“Hey,” Natalia said, voice as gentle as the evening breeze. Her kindness would get her killed. She spoke your name again and the illusion dissolved some more. “You’re safe. You were dreaming. We’re at Clint Barton’s house in Iowa.”

You got to your feet on shaky legs, looking through the woman in front of you. The room around you was not the one in the lingering dream and not the one you grew up sleeping in.

A cool hand found your cheek and tilted your gaze down. “Come back,” Natalia said.

The shadows fled, no match for her. Not truly gone, but subdued for now. “I am sorry I woke you,” you said.

“Don’t apologize.” She drew a breath. “I was awake anyways.”

“I guess sleep is not especially kind to either of us.”

“No. I guess not.”

She pulled away, stepping into the splash of moonlight on the wall. You thought she looked like an angel, or maybe a ghost. Either way she looked ethereal, as if she might turn to smoke if you reached out to touch her.

“I thought you said you’d grown out of them,” she whispered, facing the light, and away from where you hunkered out of its reach.

Your jaw twitched. “I lied.”

She nodded to herself. Disappointed but not surprised. You thought she might berate you for it, present a list of the consequences until they were seared into your brain. Instead she just extended a hand and said, “Come here.”

You fell into her and let her pull you onto the edge of the bed. You sat there, feet planted on the floor. “I hope I did not wake anyone else,” you said.

“You didn’t,” she said, settling down beside you. “You were so quiet. I almost didn’t notice something was wrong.”

“What happened?”

“I just…had the feeling something was wrong. That I needed to check on you.” She turned your forearm up and traced her thumb over the pulse point on your wrist. “Your forehead was all sweaty and you were breathing super fast. You seemed so scared.”

“I am okay,” you said.

“It’s okay to not be sometimes. I think I’m starting to learn that.”

“I really am.” You wanted to say more. You chewed on your lip, staring at the door as if it could tell you what to do. Natalia, so small yet stronger than you in a million ways. She deserved to know how much she meant to you. “I am always more than okay when you are with me. You make me feel safe.”

“Do you mean it?” Her eyes met yours, pupils blown amidst the fern green iris. You wondered if it was because of you or the dark.

“Yes,” you said. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I think…I would go through all of it again just to keep you.”

“I don’t know if I’m worth that much.” You wished she could see herself through your eyes so that she understood.

“Natalia Romanova, you are worth the entire world.” Hesitantly you leaned over and kissed her temple, lips just grazing the soft skin. You pulled away, scanning her face for any sign of reproach. “Was that okay?”

“It was more than okay,” she said. She leaned her weight against you, shoulders pressing into each other.

You sat like that for a while, listening to the sound of her gentle breathing and basking in the peaceful moment. Maybe if you could remember how you felt now you could summon the strength to serve SHIELD. You allowed your mind to wander to places you normally didn’t entertain. Someday you and Natalia would have your own place like this. A bubble no one else could touch where you could sit just like this every night. You would never have it though, only the filmy mirage of pretense.

Natalia moved to the other side of the bed, laying down on her side. “Come lay down with me,” she said.

You didn’t want to return to the floor, but you weren’t sure you could stay on the bed either.

“Please.” Behind you the best dipped and a pair of arms slid around you. One of her hands came to rest right above your heart. She tucked her chin into the space between your neck and shoulder and involuntarily, you dropped your head against hers. “It is Christmas after all.”

Natalia tugged you down and you let her, lowering yourself until your back was flush against the mattress and your head lay in her lap. You refused to move your legs, leaving them draped over the side. “I am so sorry for the things I said earlier. I did not mean it.” Shame stabbed at your lungs and behind your eyes. Your jaw ached with it, and your tongue was sour with traces of your own bitterness.

“It’s okay. I understand,” she said. You didn’t deserve her tenderness.

“You should not have to, Natalia. It is not fair for you to deal with.”

“Remember when we promised each other we’d never leave the other one alone?”

You huffed a dry laugh. “We could not have been more than fourteen years old.”

“So more than old enough to know what we were saying,” she countered.

“It will happen again,” you said, tone darkening.

“And I’ll be there when it does.”

“I cannot control it. Sometimes things happen and I feel everyone is out to get me.” You flicked your gaze away from her face. “Then the shouting and the hateful words and the rage comes. I do things I cannot take back.”

“That’s why you need people who know that that isn’t really you. Who know you’re kind and loyal to the bone. Who will help you heal.”

“I am not sick,” you insisted.

“I know. But we need to understand whatever this is,” she said. “Before it gets you into trouble with the wrong people.”

You took a deep breath, ribs shuddering like the bars of a rusted cage. “I am scared,” you whispered.

Natalia ran a calloused hand across your cheek. “I know,” she said. “Just know you’re not alone. We’ll figure this out together.”

You nodded your head, afraid that speaking might reveal the lump in your throat.

“Come on, let’s get some rest,” she said, tugging on the collar of your shirt.

“You are unbelievable,” you mumbled.

“What happened to me being the best person ever?”

“You can be both.”

She peered down at you, eyes alight with mischief. “I haven’t heard a ‘no’.”

Exhaustion had broken down your resolve, and you’d have a better chance of sleeping through the rest of the night in the bed. “Okay.” Your agreement had nothing to do with the way Natalia blinked slowly at you, nor the way she had taken to sifting her fingers through your hair.

“Finally,” she said, lips quirking up in a victorious smile. “You’re almost as stubborn as me. Not quite though.”

“Yeah, whatever,” you said, pushing yourself fully onto the bed. “Do not make me change my mind.”

You laid down and Natalia settled her head on your chest. “You’re so warm,” she said.

“Is that why you wanted me up here? Cause you were cold?”

“No,” she said as she pressed her cheek further into your collarbone. “Go to sleep.”

“Goodnight Natalia.”

“Goodnight.”

You woke in the morning not to the terror of memory infiltrating your mind but to sunlight illuminating the space before your eyelids. You blinked rapidly, clearing away the morning bleariness. You couldn't recall the last time you had started your day after sunup.

“Hey there, sleepyhead,” Natalia said, still buried into your side. Under the sheet her legs tangled up in yours.

You yawned, stretching your arms above your head. “Have you been awake long?”

“No,” she said. “Just a few minutes maybe. I think we should get up though. I imagine Cooper will be awake soon. It would be cruel to keep him waiting. I remember how exciting Christmas morning was.” She said, sounding far away. “It wasn’t real, but…there is something really magical about this time of year.”

You rubbed gentle circles on her upper back in between her shoulder blades where you knew she held tension. “It is real now, no? For the Bartons and for us, Christmas means something?”

“Yeah,” she breathed, crinkles around her eyes when she looked at you. “This is real.” You had a feeling she wasn’t referring to the holidays anymore.

“Before we go downstairs I have something for you,” you said. You palmed the thin silver necklace that had been stored in your bag. “Turn around and close your eyes.”

“Should I be nervous?” She asked as she faced away from you.

“No, no.” You clasped the chain around her neck. “Okay you can look now.”

Natalia examined the charm, cupping it in her hand. “I um—I didn’t get you anything.”

“And you do not need to,” you said. “You are all I could ever want.”

“Where’d you get it?”

“Clint took me out. I was saving it for the right time. Now seemed perfect.” You looked at the little silver sword strung hilt to blade tip along the necklace. Your signature weapon. “Do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful. Thank you,” she said, smiling up at you in a way that made your head go empty and quiet. You felt as if everything might be okay when she smiled at you.

“It is, uh…It is to remind you that I am always on your side. That I am always with you even when it may seem like I am not.” Your heart pounded with fear she may reject the gift. She would cast it aside, and you with it.

“It’s perfect,” she said instead. “You’re perfect.”

“Merry Christmas Natalia.”

“Merry Christmas.”

A/N: The drive from D.C. to Iowa is definitely NOT doable in the time they make it in the story.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov x reader

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beastwistenworld · 12 days

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CREEPY POCKET

Welcome to “Creepy Pocket”! Today I have selected for you 6 Creepypasta characters who interested me in the first place.

Slenderman: Almost everyone knows this character. Already in 2009, in one online forum “Something Awful”, the author @Victor-Surge posted him for a competition, while giving him his start as a Creepypasta character. I tried not to change anything in his design, the only thing I thought for a long time was what color of tie to give him. The choice was between black and red. In the end, I decided to combine two colors together.

Nathan The Nobody: A Creepypasta character created by IvyDarkRose on DeviantArt, who interested me not only for his design, but also for his creepy and at the same time sad story.

Zero: I was thinking for a long time about which female character I should add and suddenly “Calalini” by Crusher-P started playing in my playlist. Then I immediately realized that this was a sign and immediately thought about Zero. Of course, I changed her scarf a little to make it unique and different from Kagekao's scarf. The author of this character is @ZombiePunkRat.

Puppeteer: This is a charismatic and interesting character in terms of concept. His yellow eyes and smile can really give a creepy feeling especially at night, so he's in my top six. The author of the Puppeteer is @BleedingHeartWorks.

Jeff the Killer: Considered to be the face of most of Creepypasta, as his image appeared long before the advent of Slenderman, or at least that's what people think. In 2007, the author under the nickname Sessuer posted this photo, which later began the era of Jeff the Killer, although there is a theory that this photo has been around since 2005 as a Japanese meme, but this doesn’t seem to be proven. In his biography, at first there was a canonical story about Jeffrey Hodek, then in 2011 a well-known fan or “headcanon” story with a dose of realism appeared about Jeffrey Woods, from which many began to be inspired for their artworks and are remembered by the phrase “Go To Sleep”. After much thought, I decided to return to the original source, namely this picture from 2007, and draw Jeff the Killer based only on this. From my artistic perspective, I decided to add a black turtleneck sweater to him, highlighting his creepy “beautiful” face and black gloves, as a sign that he is a cunning, merciless serial killer. I'll also add a little of my idea for this character. What if this image of a killer is just our imagination? When we start seeing him before we go to sleep, we wake up becoming completely different people, eager only to carve a smile like Jeff’s and start doing terrible things. I don't know about you, but this sounds crazy.

Eyeless Jack: His original photo was taken long before the Creepypasta itself was written by the author of Cachet, who couldn’t have imagined that in the future Azelf5000 would borrow his image and create Eyeless Jack in 2012, thus beginning the record of his era as one of the creepiest characters. Since in the fandom they mostly draw him a hoodie, and in the original he is simply dressed in all black, I decided to keep his original design, but add a long hoodie without zippers so that he can easily take it off during the hunt.

To sum up, I want to tell you something else, my dear reader. I have been and will always be in the Creepypasta Fandom, no matter what anyone says, I know that as long as we believe in something, it will not disappear.

#digital art #artwork #drawing #creepypasta family #creepypasta #creepy art #creepypasta fanart #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta art #jeff the killer #slenderman #the puppeteer #zero creepypasta #eyeless jack #nathan the nobody #beastwisten

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morallyinept · 4 months

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I've created ID Badges & Cards for some of the Forces & Agent Pedro Boys, and some business cards for other characters too.

My original ID Badge post is here. However, I've now created more, and wanted to group them all together on a new post for ease of access. If, and when, I make anymore for future characters, I'll add them to this post.

I've referred to the actual badges the Pedro Boys wear, where available, in scenes from the shows/films, and referred to real life ID's for accuracy. Others are made with my own creative liberty and inspiration.

Let me know your faves, and if you have any requests, I'm always happy to hear them.

Enjoy! 🖤

Please note: I have not created these to sell, or for you to sell. I made these purely for creative use in your stories/edits, or if you want to simply print them out for a keepsake for yourself. A little fun gift from me to you. If you share or repost these elsewhere, please ensure you credit back to me, that's all I ask. Thank you 🖤

☝️All badge numbers and phone numbers are fake, however if they happen to be real phone numbers, it's purely a coincidence.

Javier Peña - DEA Contact Card & Name Badge

ℹ️ Javi's contact card is a direct copy from S3 EP5 Narcos, which he has in his ID wallet, and he also places down the card on the table in front of Fredy Moya in S3 EP10. Photo name badge is originally created by me, based on inspiration from real life DEA badges.

Marcus Pike & Juan Badillo - FBI Badges

ℹ️ Marcus Pike (The Mentalist) & Juan Badillo (Graceland) both work for the FBI. Juan is a control officer, whilst Marcus is a special agent. I kept the badges the same, but changed the roles & photos. Based off the design from Marcus' badge glimpsed in The Mentalist.

Dave York - DIA Badge (FBI Badge Non Canon)

ℹ️ Dave works in the DIA (Defense Intelligence Agency). Originally, I created an FBI badge for him, which is still relevant, as some people write him as being in the FBI in non canon etc... The DIA badge is based off of Dave's real badge in the film The Equalizer 2, which is only shown very briefly, and very blurry, so this is inspired by real life DIA badges, and the layout I saw on Dave's badge.

Agent Greer - AFT Badge

ℹ️ Agent Greer, in Law & Order, works for the BAFTE (Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms & Explosives) and is known as an AFT Agent. His badge is glimpsed clearly and doesn't have a photo on it, so I kept the same design as his original badge on the show.

Frankie Morales - Delta Force Enlistment Document, Delta Force ID Card & Private Pilot's License.

ℹ️ Frankie doesn't have any ID physically shown in Triple Frontier, so these are all created by myself, drawing inspiration from real life Delta Force documents and pilot licenses. Frankie would have been younger when he joined Delta Force, hence choosing a younger looking photo for him. Frankie's private pilot license is designed on what a real, current license looks like. His Delta Force ID Card and Document are direct replicas of older style Delta Force ID's.

Detective Tim Rockford - LAPD ID Badge

ℹ️ Tim has a metal badge seen in the Merge Mansion adverts/stills, but I wanted to create a photo ID card for him. His badge number appears to be 2316 from what I can see on the images of it (could also be 2516), so I have used this as his badge number. Design based on a real life LAPD photo badge.

Special Agent Ortega - Photo ID Card

ℹ️ I created this based on the real life Pinkerton Detective Agency that was established back in 1850, and which most law enforcement was governed by back in the days of the Wild West, as is Special Agent Ortega. I tried to make it look old and worn. Ortega has a metal badge too, but not a star as he wasn't a sheriff. The Pinkerton logo is the actual logo used from back then too.

Zach Wellison - Royal Marine Corps ID

ℹ️ I created Zach's Marine Corps ID Badge based off of what a real, current badge looks like. I created his rank based on research and how many tours he mentioned he had done in the episode of Brothers & Sisters that he was in, so I put him as a Lance Corporal; a rank that sees front line action, but is not the lowest rank of front line Marines - it is third up from the bottom. I made his service status complete, as it doesn't mention in the episode why or how he left. But I personally imagine he had an honorable discharge due to PTSD/anger issues.

Agent Whiskey - Statesman ID Card

ℹ️ I kept the info brief on this card deliberately, seeing as Whiskey is a secret agent for a secret organisation. Therefore, I didn't include his real name. As there are no actual ID cards shown in the movie, this was all creative liberty from myself.

Detective Edward (Ed) Indelicato - LAPD ID Badge

ℹ️ Ed Indelicato is from the unaired pilot of the Wonder Woman TV series from 2011. He is a detective in LA who assists Wonder Woman, and I wanted to create a badge for him. I kept it similar to Tim's, but an earlier version with a slightly different layout and lighter blue tone. Based on a real life LAPD badge.

Kyle Hartley - EMT Card

ℹ️ Kyle is in an episode of CSI and he is a character who is an EMT/Paramedic. So I created a card for him based on his location in the show, and the photo image on his file from the episode.

Din Djarin - Bounty Hunter Guild Card

ℹ️ There are so many amazing cards out there already for Din, that are canon realistic. However, I created a basic ID token with his name and bounty ID number, all written in Mandalorian. The circular logo used here is from the Bounty Hunter's Guild formed by Bossk, Boba Fett and Din.

Joel Miller - Contractor Business Card

ℹ️ I created my own take on Joel & Tommy's contracting business card before the Outbreak. I wanted a clean, simple design that was reminiscent of business cards back in the early 2000's.

Jay Castillo - Tattoo Business Card

ℹ️ Jay is described as a tattoo artist in Red Widow, therefore I created a business card for his tattoo business. It's not confirmed if he has his own business or not in the show to my knowledge, so I made this based on my own assumption. I imagined this card being embossed and glossy when printed.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #joel miller #javier pena #frankie morales #dave york #marcus pike #agent whiskey #juan badillo #special agent ortega #zach wellison #jay castillo #din djarin #detective tim rockford #agent greer #pedro pascal id badges #jett's designs

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sleepykyupid · 28 days

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original callout post is by @menheratic !! if you want more info, please ask them. i am merely reuploading the original callout post of ezaki. please do check out the link of the jp community calling him out in 2019 ^^ https://togetter.com/li/1327770

! The following post talks about the various bad things that Menhera-chan's creator, Ezaki Bisuko, has done.

Here a japanese summary of all the shit he did so far, including but not limited to:

• registering Yamikawaii as trademark

• sending his fans after gyaru YouTuber Usatani to harass her into a suicide attempt over unknowingly buying a shirt with stolen PPG fanart he drew

• himself buying products with stolen art, even promoting their sales, because it’s totally ok when he does it

• the reason why Usatan’s original design was changed aka it was a ripoff of Cult Party’s iconic rabbit mascot that was designed by their artist Maromika-chan

• wrote a whole guide on how to legally get away with sex work as child

• proof of him tracing art for the more detailed MCH artworks

• how he attended the Menhera Exhibit only to smear misogynist bullshit with blood on maxipads

• complaining about how anime for little girls are evil feminist agenda TM because ain’t nobody need men to be saved anymore

• boasting about being a fashion designer only selecting the finest fabrics for his merch when it’s actually made by the japanese equivalent of Redbubble

• “parody” works featuring child characters like Chibi Maruko-chan prostituting themself, the message being all women are whores regardless of age for the right amount of money

• the small “terms and conditions” shield he has at his con booths where you agree that you need to buy anything you touch

• how he setup an earthquake victim fundraiser only to keep the money

• telling his english fans they are not allowed to use any of his art for private use, like as icon, unless they pay him

• how he wants to move to the US when he turns 30 because of all the evil haters TM in Japan

• copyright claiming everyone left and right

• japanese Menhera speaking out about he keeps hurting the community

In regards of the maxi pads:

TW, CW // nooses, misogynistic text in red on maxipads

Our favorite being the second row second one, “Abortion is murder”.

Some more recent event: When he started harassing and hating on disabled people after Tokyo Fashion translated a Tweet of his because being disabled is discriminating yourself.

It’s like a trainwreck that refuses to end, now with 100% more crypto on NFT while shitting on those who warn about the dangers.

His NFT sales can be found here: https://foundation.app/@bisuko_ezaki

For some reason, after 7 years, he also decided to re-release the infamous wrist-cut bracelet to sell at events. The leader of the Neo-Decora group bought one for example:

TW // Bracelet that imitates sh, includes blood

Also keeps doing collabs with “Tokyo Uragawa” under Yamiko so Seigi (Mental illness is justice), which focuses on self-harming girls as fetish objects.

TW, CW // drawn sh

Recently, he also wrote a long-article on his definition of Yamikawaii:

https://harajuku-pop.com/67775/

Still not sure where overseas people got “this is about mental health awareness” from, might be based on mistranslations because the word for mental health and illness is one in the same, and his definition is about glorifying mental illness. In fact, this is why he was banned from Tumblr because he kept posting other people’s self-harm photos to his aesthetic blog Menherabusu.

Next up: Made suicide baiting posts over his following decreasing in the hopes of getting attention, fans sent him photos of cute animals to cheer him up, and he decided to post about destroying the pictures.

Tbh, this list could go on forever as he does this kind of bs on an almost daily basis now, but apparently people don’t care enough to stop throwing money at him.

Meanwhile the Japanese community made a whole Wiki for tracking all of his drama considering how much it is by now.

https://ezabisumatome.wiki.fc2.com/

TW // mention of shotacon

Decided to nickname himself Shotabi, the name being a combination of Shotacon and Bisuko, while using nsfw anime edits of male child characters in sexual situations as decor for his selfies.

𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝:

Is it ok to still like Menhera-chan?

𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐫:

Sure, the problem is really only Ezaki himself and his increasing problematic remarks fueled by his ego, the manga is a lot older than him being like that.

Fun fact: Ezaki actually hates Menhera-chan because it's the only thing he ever gets approached for by the media, he constantly rants about this on Twitter. If you have noticed, he barely makes new MCH content anymore (unless he gets paid for it) and mainly reposts old artworks and fanart (without permission) instead because it's the only way he can still get attention as his other works, like the misogynist Manapisu, which is just him hating on women as "dumb wh*res" as a manga, flopped badly.

Just try to not fund his bs by buying new goods.

#menhera #menhera chan #bisuko ezaki #archived #yamikawaii

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weirdmarioenemies · 4 months

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Name: Mr. Chicken

Debut: Rhythm Heaven Megamix

The year is unknown. The world as we know it is unrecognizable. Ocean now covers nearly all of the planet's surface, and the remaining landmasses jut sharply upward, connected only by brittle stone bridges, if anything. And yet, despite all this...

This chicken bought himself an electric car, and he's ready to take it for a ride!

Mr. Chicken is the star of Charging Chicken, which is a game of chicken! You know, like, trying to get as close as possible to something without going over? I don't actually know why that's called chicken. Hold on, I have to look something up.

Ah! It is called that because the original game of chicken involved two drivers driving right toward each other, where one or both must swerve away, or risk crashing. If only one swerves, that driver is the Chicken, in the "coward" sense of the word. I would not call avoiding a car crash cowardly, but I cannot speak for people who would intentionally drive toward each other in cars! This does not help the reputation of the humble chicken.

Thankfully, Mr. Chicken is not driving into head-on traffic. Unfortunately, he is driving toward a landmass only a few feet wide, with a drop straight down into the ocean on the other side. Why is he doing this? Is he stupid? Yeah, I think so.

I don't know if Mr. Chicken is a terrible driver, his car is terribly designed, or both! The moment it finishes charging, it immediately zooms straight at full speed, so either it drives recklessly on its own until it runs out of fuel, or this chicken has the gas pedal slammed down to the floor at ALL times. I would not put it past him.

All this is bad enough, and that's without even mentioning that chickens barely have any depth perception! That's why they (and other prey birds) bob their heads while they walk- the things that they see will appear to move at different speeds depending on how far from the eyes they are! Delightfully, Mr. Chicken DOES indeed bob his head rapidly while driving, so at least he's trying, I guess. But if there is anything you take from this post, I hope it is that a chicken would not be good at driving a car.

Nevertheless, THIS chicken has his driver's license, somehow. And we get to hear his own thoughts about it!

"I've been driving for almost three years now. I get pulled over all the time, and I keep expecting a police officer to comment on my license picture--I look so good!"

I am happy he is proud of his photo. I'm sure it looks great, I always love looking at a photo of a chicken. I even included one in this post! They are so fun to look at. But getting pulled over all the time? I am disappointed in him! I don't feel comfortable with such a reckless driver on the road! If only he would change his ways, but that is surely too much to expect...

"When my safe driving record got me the gold driver's license, I asked if I could keep my same picture. It's such a cute picture of me!"

Wow! He changed his ways, despite me not having faith in him! It turns out even a digital chicken has the capacity to change. I am proud of him! This is now a chicken who all drivers should aspire to be like, in terms of both safety and self-love!

The non-Japanese versions of the game feature this, quite frankly, sick mural of Mr. Chicken and his car at the end of Machine Remix! I don't think this is his own garage, since there is a whole Car Guy character that this stage is hosted by, so maybe he's a beloved customer, and became a sort of mascot. He probably crashes enough cars to keep a repair shop in business!

There is even more to Mr. Chicken but I don't feel like writing anymore! Check out this official comic if you want to see some rooster heterosexuality.

#mr. chicken #mr chicken #charging chicken #rhythm heaven #rhythm heaven megamix #not mario #mod chikako #funky friday

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horseshoegirl · 7 months

Text

Damn Those Dog Tags: Part 20 - Separate Ways (Worlds Apart)

📜 Everyone wants Jake's reaction to Liz's risky photo. 👀😂Well, you got it... and something else... Let me put it this way: I have to take my chance where I can....

❗+18, sexual themes, strong language, godmother reader/original female character, Mentions of an original child character, deployments, letters, verbal fights, hurricanes, near-death experiences, angst, Don't read if you have Thalassophobia/Aquaphobia cause Jake and Bradley... well, you'll find out, intense moments of peril/disaster.

#7.4k words

Part 19 | Masterlist | Part 21

Hangman could hear his breath, the mechanical exhale and hiss, through his oxygen mask as he finally set his eyes on the carrier alone out at sea.

The tension in his shoulders released, and the weight that had been pressing him down since he and Rooster launched this morning lifted slightly.

"Rooster, where are you?"

"Right behind you, Hangman," came his crackled tense reply.

The attack on the facility had been gruesome and extremely time-sensitive. They only had a few seconds to spare in reaching their destination should there have been any reason for a delay. It was one of the few things he had worried about when they were being briefed, worried if the same ghost that had haunted Rooster on the uranium mission would resurface yet again.

Thankfully, it didn't, and the pair of them managed to get to the target well on time, just to take down two enemy fighter jets before they had even managed to get above the hard deck line.

It might have helped the attack happened right around dawn when nobody was least expecting it—three weeks at sea for an hour in the sky. And the worst of what they thought would happen and what they had prepared for didn't.

You and Sadie had been with him the entire time, your polaroids pinned in his cockpit near the control panel. They were the same ones he had before, the one Sadie took of you and the other of Sadie standing in front of the F-18.

He was looking at them now, between you, Sadie and his navigational beacon, knowing that the second his wheels hit the upper deck, he'd be that much closer to going home.

Hangman was cleared to land, his radio buzzing with the familiar voice of the control tower as he approached the tiny runway. He adjusted the F-18's flaps, feeling the jet respond instantly beneath him, knowing it wasn't over yet, not until both he and Rooster were safely on board.

He took a steadying breath, the sound echoing in his mask as he said to himself in his head, 'Make it perfect. For them."

The back wheels touched down flawlessly, catching the arresting wire with a strong tug. Jake felt himself being pulled forward out of his seat, the straps of his harness tight on his chest. But the second his back hit the chair, he finally felt like he could breathe. The weight on his chest dissipated, and Jake couldn't help the smug grin.

He was finally in the clear.

"Nice landing," he heard the landing officer say through the radio. Jake, taxing himself to the elevator on deck, watched as the officer gave him a thumbs up from the runaway below.

"What can I say? When you're good, you're good," his cheeks hurt from the edges of his mask, grin wide as he cockily gave a two-fingered salute.

If Jake heard the following tense groan coming out of his radio, he didn't let on.

Parking the jet on the elevator strip, Jake watched as he was lowered down into the ship's hanger bay, looking for his designated mechanic as he turned off the flight system. The second he reached the ground, he guided the machine into its designated spot, turning it off completely.

He popped the canopy open before going for his helmet, unstrapping the buckles with haist. He went for one of the pockets on his harness, reaching into the tight space to grab at the zip-locked bag, placing it on top of his helmet before reaching for the polaroids of you and Sadie. Holding both between his thumb, he brought them to his lips, kissing the images simultaneously before placing them safely inside the bag where they belonged.

As Jake stepped down the ladder, a mechanic greeted him, readying a list of questions as Jake started up his post-flight checks.

"It's a good thing you guys finished when you did. Radar points to a tropical storm coming in tonight."

Jake raked his fingers through his hair, trying to combat the sweat. "So we got confirmation we are moving out?"

The mechanic nodded, not bothering to lift his head as he dug for his notepad. "The second you guys were called back. We're already on route to base."

The news only added to his high spirits. Today was a good day.

He was going home.

As Jake answered all the mechanic's questions while checking the jet, out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Bradley's jet ascended down the elevator and rolled into its resting spot. Bradley popped his canopy, climbing out, sliding down the ladder and high-fiving his mechanic, smiling.

He had no idea where the urge, or dare he say courage, came from when he finished walking over to Bradley as he was finalizing his post-flight routine.

Jake waited till Bradley said his last word before approaching him. Jake held out his hand, his voice clear over the commotion, as he said, "Good job flying out there, Bradshaw."

Bradley glanced at Jake's outstretched hand, then to his face, his expression inscrutable. There was a palpable pause, a pregnant beat of tension, before Bradley deliberately rested his hand on the side of his jet, ignoring Jake's overstretched hand completely.

"Don't think one mission changes everything," Bradley replied tersely, eyes sharp and focused.

His reply didn't deter Jake. In fact, he only smirked, lowering his hand. "Didn't think it would. I just wanted to see if you had the balls to acknowledge a job well done. By the way, I went to Liz and apologized. Something you probably never imagined I'd do."

Bradley scoffed, a short, derisive laugh escaping him. "You think an apology is your ticket to redemption? You must have been more rattled up there than I thought. She'd never forgive you after a stunt like that."

Jake bit his lip, contemplating what you or Sadie might say to Rooster at this moment.

So, in a rare second of honesty, in front of his rival, Jake answered Bradley.

"I never expected her to accept my apology, Bradshaw. But I had to try. For her. For Sadie." Jake paused, looking solemn before continuing on. "You know what it's like, leaving on a deployment, not sure when or if you're going to come back. I had to try, and believe it or not, I want to try to get along with you for both their sakes. It's what they would want."

Jake lifted his hand once again, hoping Rooster would take it. But Bradley didn't, nor did he reply. Instead, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Jake to bow his head and drop his hand once again, not knowing if he should sigh or roll his eyes. At this point, it was frugal to think Bradley would ever change his ways.

Least of all for him.

...

"Seresin! Bradshaw! You have mail!"

Jake looked up from his plate just in time to see the communications officer slam a white envelope down to the empty space in front of him. The officer continued her journey down to the other end of the table to Rooster, tossing a nearly identical envelope into his outstretched hands.

Bradley hadn't spoken a word to him since the hanger earlier, not that Jake expected him to. The mess hall wasn't necessarily the friendliest place, and while Jake couldn't have cared less about whether or not he was making friends, he and Bradley tended to stick together silently. They didn't really speak to each other, though. Even when they had to bunk together.

It's funny how deployments did that.

Jake slid his tray over to the side, reaching out to grab the thick piece of paper between his hands and inspecting the front.

White was probably the wrong word to use. The envelope looked like it had a rough time getting to him. There were dirt marks and scuffed-up edges, several post stamps thrown uncaringly on the front. Even a few water marks, which made sense, considering a gust front was currently pounding the upper deck.

What stood out to Jake, though, was your handwriting still perfectly intact. He'd recognize it anywhere.

Lt. Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Jake flipped it over, not expecting to see the words written across the back.

This is everything I didn't say

Jake pulled himself back in his seat, only to realize he had a pair of eyes on him. He looked over to Bradley, noticing how the chicken was staring at the object in Jake's hands. He had already opened his, two pieces of lined paper on the table in front of him.

"From Liz?" Jake finally asked, tilting his head towards Bradley's letter. Rooster looked back down at his, staring at the front. "Sadie, actually."

As if that didn't sting a little bit, Jake thought. Bradley looked back up, eyes fixed on the one in Jake's hands. "Liz?" he asked. It was almost sombre.

Jake tore his eyes away from Bradley to trace your cursive writing with his fingers. "Yeah."

There was something to be said about receiving letters or packages from family and loved ones while in service. Regardless of whether or not Jake and Bradley were on the outs, no one ever dared to mock this particular part of their job. Hearing word from the other side, the outside world, was something sacred, and Bradley knew better than to hold it against Jake- even if he did break your heart.

You had chosen to write him that letter. There was nothing he could really do about it - like he even had a choice. Bradley had to pick and choose his moments where he could.

Jake finally broke the seal, immediately going for the folded-up pieces of paper inside. He let the envelope drop, the sound heavy as it hit the table, and Jake knew you had probably stuffed polaroids inside.

He unfolded your pages and began to read.

Jake,

Everything became still the moment my sister passed away. I keep remembering, picturing it like hands on a clock, having counted the seconds away before finally coming to a stop. The days didn't matter. My next thought, my only thought, was Sadie. Then you came into my picture, our picture, and cheesily enough, that seconds hand on that metaphorical clock started to tick.

I can’t lie; I knew you'd break through my walls the first time I saw you. Not in the Hard Deck that day, but when you were playing football on the beach, me watching you from Penny’s chair. I knew who you were instantly.

Because you had a rep, and everyone had warned me about you - Womanizer.

But I knew the second you spoke to me, the second I had turned around after fixing that damn keg, seeing that mona lisa smile of yours (Yes - I have been calling it that and no, your ego does not need to grow two more sizes because of it), my heart was screaming, Hello, I love you.

(Those are in reference to a song; they don't count just yet).

I have a confession to make, which is partly why I wanted to write you this particular letter.

I put up a wall between you and myself then and there. I think that's the only secret I've ever kept from you. Because as much as I knew something was probably going to happen between the two of us, whatever it would have been, I knew you had the power to devastate my heart completely.

I didn’t get your name that day. Not until you showed up on my doorstep with my favourite flowers, asking me to forgive you, and you sat out in my backyard with everyone singing along to Southern Nights.

The first crack in the wall started when you followed me inside, helping me with the dishes. You were honest with me that night, not the person I thought you to be, and I realized you were putting on a show for others to see. And when I showed up in that long cool black dress at the hard deck that day, and you taught my klutzy ass how to throw a dart, the wall cracked further.

(I can hear you as I write, Jake Seresin. Saying I love your ass, don't diss my ass. Stop making everything sexual, you horny beast.)

Sadie knew it, too... that my walls were cracking. She sees everything. It's why she invited you on that damn hike. And there is also a part of me wondering if Ridley sent that damn sake from wherever she is now, hoping to get the two of us together - it would be something she'd do if she had the power…if she was able to rule the world to make it happen.

Then, all of you guys were deployed. And everything that could have gone wrong went wrong.

I don't know if three little birds told me things were going to be alright back then, but I somehow knew, deep down, they would be - even if you fly like you have nothing to lose and everything to prove. You don't, not to me. And oh, what a night it was when you came home.

I wanted you to kiss me that night. But I'm glad you didn't. Because the night I drifted away in your arms, you might as well have shot a missile from your F-18 and made my walls crumble almost completely.

Almost. Because what truly did it was when you let Sadie hang on to you during that thunderstorm. How you cared for her and told her it was going to be okay. How good you were with her and how you might be with your own. I will never stop saying how much that meant to me- what it still means to me.

Then you rammed me up against my hallway, and I had to really hang on for dear life.

(I just realized we never talked about our futures on our first date. We were too busy screaming Let's dance to figure out if Marriage/Kids, etc., were on the table - if they are something you want. Cause I'm all in Jake, whether we do or not. All I know is that I want to be with you - you and Sadie are enough.)

Then someone made himself known, and hell would have to freeze over before I mentioned his name in a letter to you - Dream on asshole. But you loved, yes loved, me through my worst moments, Sadie's worst moments. When I sang as a Blue healer for my feelings deep blue, when sons and daughters of people long gone raged, and I had to hide in my bathtub, waiting till it was all over.

When you showed me it was okay to live and experience life through the bad moments, that it was okay to remember my sister, even in the rays of a sunset from the sky. And when you made me want to scream sex on fire, cause damn Jake, we definitely weren't taking things slow.

I won't mention the 'incident' with George or how much rain I saw when Bradley drove me home. I know; I've always known how much generational trauma you've carried in your blood throughout your entire life. I will say, though, out of all the songs that had to play on the jukebox the night things for Sadie and I finally came to an end, it had to be Come a little bit closer. (That pissed me off, you have no idea, Jake.... stop laughing, you asshole).

And although it’s been weeks for me since you left me standing at the end of my driveway, after you apologized and I felt like a Sapling, searching for an Oak, watching you drive off to go our separate ways for a small length of time, being worlds apart, I’m counting down the minutes, the hours, the seconds till I can tell you what you need to hear.

Because My sister had a box. A just-in-case box. Filled with letters, objects, and memories. I finally opened it, with Sadie, of course, on an evening I will never soon forget. I don't want a repeat of that. Of me finally visiting Ridley and reading her letter, her last words to me on her grave.

I don't want that to be us.

So Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, after breaking down my walls not once but twice, I will not write those three words down in this letter. I'd rather tell you in person. So I can see your face when I do. I’m a fair lady - if you wanted me to wait to tell you until you are home, I’m waiting till you come home.

So much of our relationship started backwards. A first kiss before the first date, an extended sleepover before the first touch. We made a promise to each other, not already realizing we had already broken it.

So, sir, if you think the second I see your face, I'm not going to try to jump you, drag you home and lock Sadie out of my bedroom, you can kiss this idea of going slow out the window. Life's too short to go slow when... well, you'll find out soon enough.

And I know you think Sadie doesn’t want to see you again. That's she's still mad at you and will be forever mad for what happened. But I know for a fact the second she sees you, she will jump into your arms. You’re her uncle - you count more than you’ll ever know.

And while sleep deprivation is my remaining side effect from dealing with the grief I’ve shouldered, I know part of it involves counting down the days for when I can fall asleep with you next to me.

And maybe even doing something else ;)

Your darlin' Elizabeth

P.S. Sadie wanted to send some Polaroids - I promise you, she doesn't hate you, but I know you're still going to think otherwise until you come home. We went on a hike, so there are probably some bug-themed ones in there... I'm sorry for what you see... so if you have anyone lurking over your shoulder, you might want to be careful. They aren't for everyone.

You were right about one thing: he was still so sure Sadie had it out for him. The day she had cornered him at the beach haunted his thoughts. The look and level of disappointment she had on her face would forever remain imprinted in his head.

Yet, he still wiped at his eyes and raked his fingers through his hair, his heart feeling like it was going to beat out of his chest. He reached into the envelope and grabbed at the small stack.

The first few were from the hike you mentioned; Sadie chose one of you, sitting on the same rock she had done last year. He still had the photo he took on his phone. There were some ones with bugs, no question about it. But they weren't random ones, either.

There was one of Sadie surrounded by what looked like to be monarchs. Jake had never seen her look so happy, her smile wide and beautiful, and he couldn't help the grin on his face looking down at the image.

But when Jake went to slide the image of Sadie behind the others, he did a double take, quickly hiding the following polaroid from view.

You wouldn't have, he thought. There was no way.

Jake glanced around the hall, turning the collection of pictures down to face the table in his hands, wondering if anyone had seen what he had seen. But next to Bradley, who was too engrossed in his own letter even to lift his head, the hall had cleared itself out, leaving the two of them practically alone.

Hesitantly lifting his hands, Jake slid Sadie's photo over, carefully peering down at the image of you.

You. On your bed. Half naked.

You seemed carefree, leaning back on your bed, damp tendrils of your hair half clinging to your face, half covering the sharp lines of your neck. Oh, how many times he had kissed that neck, and now, seeing it on display, only for him - Jake had to draw in a sharp breath.

And his dog tags hanging between your half-bare breasts, framed by the silk of your robe, glinting in the soft, warm sunlight from your bedroom window. And written along the bottom... Come home and take them back ;)

You cheeky... Jake could feel the heat rush to his face: surprise, desire, and pure pride. He was thousands of miles away, and you found yet another way to remind him of what awaited him when he got home.

The Mona Lisa smile, as you had so deemed, spread wide across his face as he whispered to himself in one ragged breath, "Damn, Liz."

He felt himself getting hard just looking at you.

He'd send you a message when they were closer to American soil, hoping you and Sadie would be there to greet him. But more importantly, if you'd make plans for Penny to take Sadie that night. Cause fuck the lock on your bedroom door. He wanted to find out all the ways he could make you scream for him, all the sounds you had yet to make for him.

Until then, Jake climbed into his bunk that night, reading your letter over and over, staring at the photo you had gifted him, wondering and coming up with all the ways the two of you would celebrate his homecoming. Because lying on that narrow bunk, he couldn't stop his rampant thoughts.

He could almost feel the silk of your robe against his fingertips, the wet strands of your hair brushing against his palms, and the warmth of your skin. And those fucking dog tags he gave you, nestled between the soft curves of your breasts - everything made a fierce heat coil in the lower half of his stomach.

Jake shifted uncomfortably, the rough sheets tangling around his legs, the damp are doing little to soothe his fevered skin. He rolled over into his pillow, trying to summon any other thought but that photo - anything to take his mind off the overwhelming feeling of pure want that consumed him.

You were there, in every corner he turned to, beckoning him with both those innocent and mischievous glint in your eyes, making him crave the day he finally came home. He took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to find some semblance of calm against the lust you had ignited within him.

But falling asleep, his dreams were only filled with you. And all the ways he'd finally have you cumming on his cock.

...

Jake jolted awake to the sound of a high-pitched beeping in his ears, almost hitting the bunk above his. His stomach felt uneasy, like it had been flipped upside down, and every sense was screaming at him something was wrong. He was off balance, unable to ground himself to a solid point.

He hated not being in control.

Rooster shouted from the bunk above, and Jake pressed himself against the tiny wall as he felt himself tilted hard to the side, masked by a shutter that shook their entire room.

Bradley wasn't as lucky, rolling straight out of his bed and landing hard on the ground with a massive thunk. Jake wanted to laugh, but even he couldn't stop the grimace as he heard the sound.

Bradley groaned a long, pitful sound, lifting himself to rest on his hands. "What the hell is going on?!"

"What do you think, Bradshaw? You've never been stuck in a storm on a deployment before?"

He knew he shouldn't be so snarky with Bradley, but this morning had left him in a sour mood. Not to mention, the storm was but another obstacle in his path stopping him from getting home sooner.

It was going to be a long night.

Bradley sat up, about to reply with a remark just as snarky, when the PA system blared above their heads.

All currently available personnel report to the lower decks for assistance. I repeat all currently available personnel report to the lower decks for assistance.

Jake tore out of bed, and Bradley stood sharply, both reaching for their fight suits, putting them on in a rush. As Bradley laced his boots, Jake reached for your letter and picture on his bed, quickly shoving them inside the packet he had in his chest pocket with the other Polaroids.

He didn't know if and when he'd be back here.

As the pair emerged from their room, they had to dodge multiple people flying past in a mass panic, trying to get to their respective stations. The added struggle of not knowing what the carrier was going to throw at them next also didn't help. All Jake and Bradley knew was that, given a storm, let alone even in a hurricane, they needed to be down at the lower docks, reinforcing the restraints on the Jets.

The ship groaned, then shook, the floor vibrating beneath their feet.

"What the hell was that?" Bradley shouted, his voice strained with concern. Jake struggled to steady himself, gripping a nearby railing. His Texian accent was strong as he shouted his reply, "It doesn't matter. Let's just get to the hanger bay!"

It was pure chaos the second they arrived. Bright flashing red emergency lights, crew members scrambling in every direction. Next to the high-pitched alarm going off every other second, the ship continued to creak and groan, rocking enough that Jake and Bradley had to steady themselves.

"Get the damn secondary restraints on the F-18s!" A senior official shouted as they passed. Jake and Bradley's 'Yes, sir' only seemed to fall on deaf ears.

The pair raced towards the first jet, stopping momentarily to assist what they needed to do. Jake's voice was barely audible above the chaos. "We need to get the secondary straps down and make sure the wheel jacks are in place!"

Bradley shot him a disdainful look. "Thanks for stating the obvious. I was about to suggest a picnic."

Jake gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to snap back. "Not now, Bradshaw."

Bradley only rolled his eyes. "Let's just get this over with."

As they began to secure the planes, the ground started to tilt enough to throw them off balance if they weren't careful. Jake and Bradley tried to brace themselves as one adjusted the straps while the other secured the wheel jacks.

A cry for help managed to break through the alarms and shouts, and both turned towards the sound. Bradley was closest, shouting out, "I got it!" before running off, not bothering to hear Jake's reply.

The sound of a wire recoiling, snapping hard like a whip through the air, startled Jake, making him turn sharply. A wooden crate, the height of his chest, had broken loose from its net, sliding directly towards him.

Bracing himself, Jake charged forward, holding out his hands to stop it from crashing into the jet behind him. He grunted hard as the wood slammed into his palms. Jake used as much strength as he could gather, baring his teeth and straining his muscles, to push the crate back towards where it came from.

Jake's mechanic from before suddenly appeared next to him, helping him push the crate back into the relative safety of the net.

"What the hell is going on?!" Jake shouted over the alarm system. The mechanic continued to work as he replied, "Everything! The whole ship is going to hell! We've got engine failure. Some of the airlock doors won't seal properly on the lowest deck, and to fucking top it off, one of the ballast tanks is compromised! In a fucking hurricane!"

That would explain the rocking, Jake thought, as the ship titled back, allowing for the create to easily slide back into its original spot with no more effort. The mechanic knotted the net through a few metal loops on the ground while Jake rested his hands on his knees, bent over and panting hard.

The second he finished, the mechanic left Jake standing there as he was called off towards another task.

Jake straightened, looking around to see where he was needed next, his eyes instantly landing on Rooster, who was dealing with his own crate. He ran towards him, using his weight to help Bradley push the crate back and away into its designated spot.

The two managed to secure it, and struggling to catch his breath, Bradley glared at Jake. "Didn't need your help."

"Of course, you didn't," Jake retorted, frustration evident.

"I had it handled."

"Right," Jake panted.

"Always gotta be the hero, don't you, Hangman?" Rooster grumbled.

Whatever had encouraged him to reach an olive branch earlier was long gone. Whether it was Rooster's words or the situation, Jake simply had enough.

He hit Bradley square in his chest with both hands, sending him backwards a few steps. "Okay, what's your damn problem with me, Bradshaw?!"

"Now?!" Bradley shouted, ready to fight it out. "You want to do this now?"

"Good as time as any!" Jake remarked, throwing his hands to the side in open invitation. He was tired of Rooster's animosity, of the constant back and forth, but damn if he wasn't ready for the confrontation.

"What is it? My call-sign? What I did to earn it!?" Jake cocked his head, stepping to the side, causing the two pilots to circle each other. "Or is it what I said about your old man two years ago?! You didn't even let me finish, so I couldn't have said anything that truly pissed you off. And you know what, not that it matters, but I'm sorry if it hurt your feelings."

The floor shook beneath their feet, but neither man seemed phased. Bradley only fisted his hands tighter with each remark that passed Jake's lips.

"Or is it Liz? Sadie? The fact they welcomed me in with open arms, loved me, and there wasn't a hell of a thing you could have to stop it?"

The surrounding chaos only seemed to amplify Bradley's longstanding irritation with Jake. Bradley stalked forward, slamming his hands to Jake's chest and returning the favour.

"It's everything! Everything you stand for!" he shouted, his nostrils flaring hard. "Don't you dare say Sadie's name, not when I know you are going to leave that little girl out to dry. I won't have it, Hangman!

Recognition flashed in Jake's eyes, and he knew, he understood right then, amongst all the chaos and panic, the lengths any one of the Daggers would go to make sure their bug was loved and protected above all else.

It had never been about you. It had always, always been about Sadie.

"Sadie?!" he shouted. "That's the reason?"

Jake clenched his fists, struggling to find the words. "You think I would ever abandon Sadie? Or Liz? You've seen me, day in and day out, fighting for them, fighting fucking Tyler, fighting to get back to them. I would die before they were hurt. Before any one of you were hurt."

"But you did! The second your brother asked you to." Bradley's voice hardened. "Answer me this: in the heat of the moment, when you're faced with a choice, can you honestly tell me you'd put them first?"

Tyler and everything he had wrought flashed in Bradlely's mind, but he pressed on.

"Not your pride, not your ego, but them? Or any of us. Unasked or not on the job! Cause I know you wouldn't!"

Jake reeled back, Bradley's words hitting him hard. But Bradley didn't falter. His face was still lit up with all the pent-up anger and frustration he held for Jake since the day he got his call sign.

"I see the man behind the show, the guy who thinks he's invincible. But you're not." Bradley pointed his finger. "Until you prove otherwise, I won't trust you with them. Not with Sadie. Not with Liz. Not with any of us."

Jake opened his mouth to reply, but a shout from the officer who gave them orders before interrupted him.

"You two, Top Gun! Quit standing around and go to the communications office and see where we are at with our navigation systems!"

Bradley stomped past Jake without another word, leaving him to silently fume for a few seconds before following him out of the hanger.

In the dimly lit, claustrophobic corridors of the carrier, the metallic walls groaned, strained by the might of the storm. Water or steam, they weren't sure which, was starting to pool in patches along the floor. With each wave and rock the ship encountered, the intermittent jolts sent the two pilots grasping for whatever was nearest to stay upright as they tried to make it to the communications office.

Following Bradley, Jake felt a spike of irritation. 'Why's he got to make everything so damn personal?' Jake thought bitterly. Bradley, meanwhile, was a simmering pot of anger.

"Why do you always have to be right in the middle of everything, Hangman?" Bradley shot over his shoulder, clearly irritated. "Can't you just once follow orders without making it about you?"

Jake gritted his teeth, trying to hold back a retort. "Look, can we just get to the comms and figure this out? We can bicker like an old married couple later."

Bradley's face twisted in a smirk, his pace never faltering. "Don't flatter yourself. I have standards."

A loud klaxon sounded, the eerie wail echoing through the narrow halls of the carrier. Jake and Bradley covered their ears, falling into the walls.

The second they managed to pull themselves up onto their feet, the PA system blared out another warning.

Begin bail-out and evacuation procedures. I repeat, Begin bail-out and evacuation procedures. All personnel should be on the upper decks in five minutes.

Jake turned to Bradley, his face filled with urgency. "We need to go! Now!"

Bradley snarled. He had no idea whether it was out of frustration with the current situation or Jake barking orders at him. But Jake was having none of it, grabbing Bradley hard by the collar of his suit and tugging him hard.

Jake's eyes were hard and furious as he remarked, "I'm not dying today, and neither should you."

Something flashed in Bradley's eyes that Jake could not name. But it was enough to give Bradley pause, water droplets running down his face as the anger and tension decided to leave him from earlier.

"We need to get home! For the girls," Jake roughed out. "For Liz and Sadie! Whatever hate you have towards me, we need to get out for them. Now!"

Another name came to Bradley's mind, but he couldn't bring himself to say it out loud, even now. Instead, Bradley could only sallow and nod. He couldn't deny Jake was right.

It was damn near impossible to sink an aircraft carrier. Jake and Bradley knew this. The things were built to withstand the roughest seas, hurricanes included. They were the most balanced and sturdiest things that ever graced any body of water on this planet. They had to be if aviators were literally landing planes on them.

But as water continued to breach the carrier, and as the pair raced through the ship to get to a proper stairwell that would get them to the relief point on the upper decks, they both wondered about the series of unfortunate events that led them to this point. The mechanics in the hangar bay had said everything was going wrong.

Bradley was on the verge of saying sabotage, wondering if they had a spy amongst their ranks. The mission had gone so much better than they had thought. But in their line of work, if something suspicious didn't happen, then their job wasn't over.

Jake just wanted to get both of them out of there.

They finally reached one of the escape hatches, a stairwell that led directly to the upper deck. Bradley was the one to turn the wheel on the door first, Jake joining in shortly after once he realized the sheer force Rooster was putting into opening the door.

A pressure vale released, and the second the two managed to open the door, Jake surged forward, followed by Bradley, who made their way into the narrow stairwell, hoping all had not been lost.

Jake paused on the small landing, looking up at the flights guided by the emergency light. There were a few fires scattering the walls, but it was climbable, and if both of them hurried, they wouldn't have any issues.

Bradley's hand on his shoulder made him pause.

"Dude, we have to book it."

Jake turned his head, ready with a cocky reply of something resembling a 'you don't think I know that' until he took in Bradley's panicked face, staring at the stairs below. Following Bradley's eyes, Jake reeled, noticing the rising water levels.

Grabbing Rooster by the back of his suit, Jake pulled Bradley in front of him, pushing him up the stairs, urging him forward and shouting, Go!

The two tried not to look up as they climbed, picturing their destination in their minds. Ignoring the sound of the alarm and the rushing water, Jake and Bradley counted their steps as they tried to reach the top. And they were close. Even as the rest of the ship creaked and groaned, they still fought to reach the top, unaware if help was waiting for them on the other side.

Then something blew up on one of the upper levels, the sound, the vibration, causing Jake and Bradley to slam themselves into the wall, trying to make themselves as small as possible. The lights flickered once, twice, then completely out, before a rotating red emergency light dimly lit the narrow stairwell. Metal crunched above their heads, snapping like twigs, and Jake didn't dare look up for fear of what might happen to either of them.

They felt it before they saw it, thin metal snapping out from underneath their feet. Feeling himself lurching forward, Jake immediately reached out for anything to hold on to. His fingers met a railing untouched by damage, and he latched on, suddenly opening his eyes to pull himself up and towards the relative safety of the remnants of the broken landing.

Bradley hadn't been so lucky.

Because the falling debris favoured his side of the stairs, the section he'd been crouching against completely crumpled under the impact, leaving only an empty space where thick, rushing water roiled menacingly below. There was nothing Bradley could have clung to, nothing that would have saved him from falling towards those black depths or allowed him to reach the warped edges of that landing.

Till his hand slapped onto a piece of a broken railing, Bradley struggled to find a grip tight enough to counteract the sweat on his palms. A panicked noise escaped his mouth as he slid down the newly indented piece of metal, finally stopping just before the end, muscles taunt and ridged as he forced breath into his body.

Jake had managed to pull himself up onto the landing as Bradley had fallen, instantly rolling himself up onto his chest to look down for the pilot.

He was within reach, and Jake extended his hand, on the verge of falling off the flimsy piece of metal. Bradley was hanging on, barely, looking between Jake's hand and the beam, the metal becoming looser and looser by the second.

And yet, Bradley still wouldn't take his hand.

"For godsakes, Bradshaw, just take my fucking hand!"

Jake purposely tried to jolt his arm forward in emphasis, hoping Bradley would finally take the leap and let go. But Bradley bowed his head, trying to force air into his lungs through his mouth as he looked down. With each pulse of red light, the water appeared to be getting higher and higher with each second.

He let out a panicked noise, trying to adjust his slipping grip. The movement caused the metal beam to drop slightly further, accompanied by a jarring clang. Bradley cried out, trying to reach for the broken edge of the landing.

Jake could feel himself slipping, sliding forward until he caught his boot on the railing, locking his body tight as he hung over the edge. Sharp, broken pieces of metal bit into his stomach as he swayed, trying to reach once again.

"Bradley! Just take my hand!" he shouted over the alarms, not any less urgent than before. "Please!"

Jake had never begged a day in his life, let alone to someone like Rooster. But there was no way he wasn't going home without him. You would never forgive him, and Sadie would never recover. He knew that for a fact.

Metal snapped, and Bradley dropped another inch, thinking this was it. That the railing was no longer attached to whatever had been holding it in place, baring his entire weight. Bradley threw his arm up towards Jake's in a desperate move.

Jake grabbed his wrist at the last possible second, a pained shout escaping his lips as he completely absorbed his weight, metal grating bending underneath him. But the grip he had on the railing with his foot held, and Jake bowed his head in relief, taking a few seconds with Bradley hanging dangerously off his arm to ground himself, trying not to think about what might have happened had he not caught him.

Jake grunted hard as he pulled Rooster up, his other hand finding a grip on the fabric of his flight suit along his back, hoping the railing from where he grounded himself would hold long enough to support them both. Bradley did the same with Jake's, using it as leverage to hoist himself up over the edge, only to roll onto his back, breathing hard.

Jake twisted his body away from the edge, laying on his back next to Rooster, staring up at what remained of the remaining flights of stairs. With the water still rushing below them and red lights spinning above them, the two dagger pilots took a few seconds to recuperate in the middle of the danger.

"You had to wait till the last second, didn't you?" Jake roughed out, panting hard. Bradley took three deep breaths before managing to gasp out, "I had to keep it interesting, right?"

Jake slammed his eyes shut, rocking his head to the side in slight annoyance. Bringing himself to a stand, Jake held out his hand again to help Bradley up. This time, Rooster didn't refuse it, instantly throwing his arm out to grasp the back of Jake's elbow, hoisting himself up.

Jake went to let go the minute he was up, but Bradley's grip remained firm.

"This is the second time you've saved me," he said, trying to make out Jake's face in the red light and dropping water. "You could have left me this time, for everything I've done, said..."

"What would be the point?" Jake interrupted him. "If I'd left you, I'd be no better than the person you thought I was. Besides," Jake added, smirking, "who else would I have to constantly prove wrong if you weren't around?"

Bradley scoffed, a tint of a smile tugging at his lips. "Asshole."

Jake shrugged. "It's in my nature. Now, can we please get the hell out of here?"

Bradley nodded, releasing Jake's elbow. In a dramatic fashion, he gestured for Jake to lead the way, looking up towards the rest of their journey to escape. But Bradley's eyes widened in horror as he saw the chunk of ceiling, metal, and wiring breaking loose directly above Jake.

"Jake, move!" Bradley bellowed, his voice echoing with urgency as he dropped to the ground, trying to drag Jake with him.

But in the chaos of falling water, blinking lights and cacophony of alarms, Jake was a split second too late to comprehend the warning fully. Just as he turned to see the descending danger, the heavy debris crashed down, the force of the impact throwing him off balance, rocking whatever remained of the grating they were standing on.

A metallic clang resonated sharply, followed by the splash of water as Jake was sent reeling backwards. The last thing Bradley saw, huddled against the wall, was the look of shock and realization in Jake's eyes, his silhouette disappearing beneath the surging tide of murky water, quickly consuming any trace of him.

Bradley, mouth agape, crawled over to the edge, Jake's call-sign a cry masked by the high-pitched alarms.

"Hangman!"

Bradley couldn't see him anywhere. Water continued to rush into the space, and Bradley, kneeling against the metal grating, tried to spot any area where Jake could manage to resurface. But with the power out and the pulsing red emergency lights, he couldn't see beyond the water's black surface.

Last call, I repeat, last call for evacuation and bail-out procedures.

Rooster pulled himself to stand, weighing his options.

He could jump and look for Jake. Despite the precarious situation they found themselves in, the water was still slow to fill the narrow stairwell. Bradley estimated he had minutes before the water became too much for him to handle.

Or he could leave, save himself. Say he did everything he could. That Jake was lost, the situation was too dire.

That Jake died a hero, trying to save him once again.

But it wasn't even a choice; the decision had already been made. It had been made the second your face appeared in front of his, and how it changed into a faded memory of his mom, collapsing to the ground at the news of his father's death. And Bradley, watching it all from behind the corner of a wall, forever feeling small.

But then it wasn't him as a child, but Sadie, the same look on her face the day the two of you walked up the driveway of your sister's place. The same look he found on her face the day she ran into your backyard, pulling at grass.

Jake would be another person for the both of you to mourn. He couldn't let that happen.

Bradley crossed his arms over his chest and jumped, diving under the water.

All he could see was black.

I had to cliffhanger you guys one last time with this one 😂 Please forgive me....

Tag list:

@blue-aconite @tinytotontheoversizedpony @djs8891 @caitsymichelle13 @startrekfangirl2233

@mayhemmanaged @ereardon @dempy @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @daggerspare-standingby

@phantomxoxo @formulapierre @eli2447 @fulla02 @blckgrl-sunflower @mizzzpink @ohgodnotagainn

@bubblegumbeautyqueen @sarahsmi13s @desert-fern @lynnestra44 @memoriesat30 @penwieldingdreamer @mxlanciia

@bradleybeachbabe @bobby-r2d2-floyd @lavenderbradshaw @roosters-girl @lovinglyeternal @kmc1989 @gigisimsonmars @dakotakazansky

@keyrani @craftytrashprincess @hisredheadedgoddess28 @abzidabzy @memeorydotcom @vicsnook @taestrwbrry

Part 21 - My Fair Lady Coming Soon 👀

-Wickett ;)

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koikishu · 26 days

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Hi! First of all I wanted to say that I only just found your account recently and it's very interesting, I love learning about other cultures and clothing has always been a big reason for that so I really appreciate the amount of research you put into your work!

Anyways, I'm also a big fan of Journey To The West and I found this photo depicting Princess Iron Fan that came from a 2010 Chinese opera performance "Monkey King: Flaming Mountain". Her outfit is very very pretty but I couldn't find any info on it no matter how hard I tried, the one thing I managed to find that was similar was called a feitian dress (I think, sorry if that's wrong), but they don't look quite the same as the one in this performance. I was wondering if you knew what it was called and if it has any historical accuracies behind the design of her outfit as well, thanks in advance! :)

Thank you so much for your kind words! I'm glad you're enjoying my blog.

So, I think you're on the right track with "feitian" dress. Another culture/ historical fashion blog, @ziseviolet, wrote an excellent post about feitian dress, its origins, and its modern versions that you should read here: https://www.tumblr.com/ziseviolet/672232299973296128/what-exactly-does-dunhuang-style-mean?source=share

Another thing to note is that it's a Chinese Opera performance, meaning that the costumes will blend the well-known character traits & signifiers from the original tale mixed with traditional Chinese Opera costumes/ accessories. As far as I could tell, Princess Iron Fan is some kind of demoness in the original story, and many gods/bodhisattvas/apsaras (i.e. feitian)/ demons were depicted wearing "feitian" style clothing to indicate their non-humanness to audiences.

We know that feitian style clothing isn't historically accurate and that many aspects of Chinese Opera costumes are also not historical, so there's not much else to find regarding this version of Princess Iron Fan's costume. I do agree that it's very pretty, but I don't think it has any special name or style other than "feitian." I hope you find this answer helpful! If not, see if @ziseviolet may have a better answer for you!

Regards,

Koikishu

#asks #huafuasks #chineseasks

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twogoldenflowers · 6 months

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Hunter's Room (Fan Design)

It is about time I finally did this, now I can make so many drawing ideas come true with a room for Hunter designed. Also, for those who read my "Timeskip Watching and Dreaming AU" series of fanfics on A03, this is what Hunter's room looks like. This room is a room in Darius' house, so yippie Dadrius.

Alright, I know the doors can be confusing to let me break this down.

The door on the south wall with the small cuckoo clock like doors is the door to exit the room. I put cuckoo doors on the door because it's for Waffles.

The door that's on the wall that's jetting out is the door to the walk-in closet

And the the door on the west wall is the door to Hunter's private bathroom.

I originally wanted to do the entire Deamonne household at once, but, no way that would take forever. Maybe I'll do parts of it in the future but for right now, NO. If I did, I'd probably do Darius' room next and the living room after that.

This took such a long time to design, and it was my first time ever designing a background completely on my own. I needed to take off the training wheels and design my own background for once, and for my first attempt, I think I did a decent job.

The only thing that I couldn't add is a ceiling fan, but that was only because of the angles I had. I'm sure I could've if I had a different angle. Im going to have to design that separately.

This took since October 20th to finish, I probably could've got it done faster, but uni kept me busy and such. Either way, now that I've finished this, I can't wait to make drawings with this room. Yay!

Alright so: Tumblr exclusive content from here on out since insta has a stupid character limit, and their cropping system sucks

I'm gonna go on an infodump to why I decided to put almost everything here in Hunter's room.

North Wall:

Bed: I decided to make the headboard and footboard a cherry colored wood because Hunter would definitely like cherry wood because it's reddish. Referencing Willow's headboard that has a flower, I changed that into a bird for Hunter. I gave him a blue blanket in reference to Waffles. I headcannon that Hunter LOVES plushies, so I gave him some plushies I'd think he'd like. He'd definitely like squishmallows, so I gave him a blue-jay, cardinal, and wolf squishmellow. I also gave him a small wolf plush, as well as a small parrot plush and a peacock plush. The Sprig plushie is special, as it's not the same one as he had in the castle. It's a life-sized one Willow won him at a carnvial. (Reference to one of my fics).

Nightable: Nothing much to say here outside of the fact that I felt like Hunter would need one. I gave him a crystal ball because I felt like he'd like one.

Desk: This is where Hunter does work, from designing clothes to sew to studying for school. He has a log of regluar wood to practice carving on. (This room is set when Hunter is still a kid early during the WAD timeskip) He also has a punch a pencils, a desk lamp, and some books on there.

Corkboard: Hunter keeps notes for his school studies, and personal projects here. Sometimes he doodles things and puts them up there, such as the wolf and birds doodles.

Wall: Hunter would 100% be that person to have a trillion posters. I gave him a Flyer Derby poster, and a hummingbird poster. The Ruler's Reach poster is actually signed by King himself. Here's also a wolf calender, since I'd figured he'd like that, and a cuckoo clock that I headcannon Hunter and Dell carved together.

Bookshelf: On the bottom shelf, Hunter keeps a bunch of random books he likes.

On the second shelf, he has a photo of Flapjack, textbooks for his abominations and potions classes, and a photo of Willow

On the third shelf, he has textbooks for his illusions, construction, wild magic, plants, beastkeeping, and runes classes.

On the forth shelf, he has a photo of Darius, textbooks for his bard, oracle, and healing classes, and a photo of Waffles.

On the top shelf, he has his two favorite books of all time, Cosmic Frontier and Ruler's Reach, specially displayed with them propped up.

Jesus, that was by far the longest description we'll have.

East Wall:

Window: Hunter has a basic window with blue curtains. I originally wanted to make the curtains space themed for Cosmic Frontier, but then realized that would be a pain to draw over and over again, so I kept it blue. Maybe I can make Hunter's shower curtain space themed instead.

Other then that, there is nothing new on this wall that I'd like to cover. (I'd rather cover things that appear on other walls in their sections)

South Wall:

Wall: Hunter has two more posters on this wall. A Cosmic Frontier Poster. This is a reference in itself, where in Star Trek, the equivalent of O'Bailey has an asian wife that is a Bontonist, and that is sorta a parrel to Huntlow. So I decided to make a headcannon design for both O'Bailey, and the Bontonist I decided to rename to Aiko. So boom. Huntlow reference. The other poster is simply a wolf poster.

Box: This is pretty self explanatory. Its a box with sewing supplies.

Mannequin: Since Hunter sews, I'd imagine he'd like to have a mannequin to help make the clothing design process easier.

Table: This is the same sewing Machine from Thanks to Them, as Camila gave it to Hunter as a gift.

West Wall:

Outside of the door of the bathroom, there is nothing new on the west wall that I haven't already covered.

Bonus:

Here is the original blueprint for the entire Deamonne household. I could go from here and design every last aspect of the house, but that would take ages. I'd definitely like to, but its just so much work. Like I said, the next two rooms I'd design are Darius' room and the living room. Plus, Hunter's room was by definition going to he the hardest, since he has the most stuff and therefore detail in his room.

For when I wanted to focus solely on Hunter's room, I referenced the upstairs blueprint snd made a more detailed blueprint just for his room. As you can see, A LOT ended up changing from this to the final version.

#the owl house #the owl house fanart #the owl house hunter #hunter the owl house #hunter toh #toh hunter #hunter deamonne #hunter park #hunter noceda #dadrius #darius deamonne #Deamonne Household #Darius toh #toh darius #the owl house darius #darius the owl house #toh fanart

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factual-fantasy · 1 year

Text

I has 30 asks! :}}

@chickenmilk120

@cherrycreamfairy

The only thing that mattered to me in that trailer was Mario saying “I’m not afraid, I’ll do anything for my brother.” Their brotherhood is the only thing giving me hope for this movie-

That, and the blue shelled koopa troopa’s are interesting..

@sqirtle

The idea I had in mind is that they were magically transported to the Mario universe some how, where they ended up in the middle of a forest. They kind’a wandered for a while before finding the Mushroom kingdom. This was right after Peach was captured.

I was thinking that the toad people let them in to help them and later witnessed Mario using a fire flower. That’s when they knew these two were the hero's of legend and their quest began :0

Yes! They don’t have enough food to go around so they try to avoid waking anyone else up. That, and the fact that that Spy and Pyro don’t carry anything particularly useful to them. Nothing worth risking being seen by the camera at least.

In my AU at least, there is no Glamrock Ballora. Its just the main Glamrocks we’ve already seen. The original Ballora did exist though. :0

As for the tiger guy and mermaid gal? They are not in my AU either..

JSOKDFSLDFKMTHANK YOUUU

Not only would he not care and do it again, but he would attack Mario because he is in pain. He would take advantage of his vulnerability.

@bungerpogger

The plans I had for Luigi is that he dies to a Goomba. BUT WAIT HANG ON- THAT’S NOT FUNNY- The Goomba’s in my AU are real monsters. Luigi gets bitten by one and his entire leg gets shredded. Then the venom from the Goomba slowly makes Luigi rot from the inside out.

He rapidly begins to deteriorate over the span of a few days. Eventually he looses all his strength and is just laying on his death bed.

Mario is holding his hand and keeps telling him he’s going to be fine. Everything's gonna be okay, Luigi’s going to get better everything will be fine-

Luigi’s hand goes limp.

...

And then he gets revived by the 1-UP he had absorbed a couple of days ago. All better! :D

@genericstudios

Thank youuu!!! :DDD

I don’t take commissions or straight up “Hey draw this thing for me” stuff. Buuut, the other stuff sounds like it could be fun :}

@network-warrior-01

I think if a little kid came in and didn’t mess with anything and was just scared and crying. I feel like King Boo would show mercy and have his Boos kind’a guide them back out of the forest.

If its some bratty little kid well... I cant say he’d be patient with them.

@burgycreeper405-blog

I’m on desktop. If you click this little doo-dad here?

And then this one?

You can put literally as many pictures as you want. Its never stopped me and said there was too many images. Same thing with the orange photo option. When I fill up the 10 slots I just click the little grey camera and keep adding more drawings-

Yeah I remember trolls. Never saw world tour but I always intended to- here’s to hoping trolls 3 turns out good!

@ajthekingtheking

JSADNCTHANK YOUUUUAAAAAAA

I have! Such a bizarre game concept has no right to have such good animation and interesting (to me) character design-

XD My body is basically just grey and black goop. I can have as many arms as I want! I’ve just found having a 3rd arm to be rather convenient recently.

@crazy-scary-crazy

Thank you for understanding <:} It means a lot that even if some people don’t get it, they can still see my perspective and respect my boundaries.

@dongpuncher-666

The 1-UP has to be consumed before dying. So it wouldn’t work if you just shoved it down their throats after they died-

Also it works instantaneously. It could be literally 5 seconds before they’re about to bleed out, as soon as the mushroom makes contact with them, their body absorbs it and its energy is fully prepared to be consumed.

Also thank you! I’m glad to hear you like my content! :DDD

I’m not familiar with that character, so I didn’t write him into the AU.. <:/

@caronaro-flipaclip

OH MY GOSH I LOVE SPONGEBOB LITERALLY MY FAVORITE CHILDHOOD SHOW--

Bowser wants Peach’s land. Because it is healthy and fruitful. But he has never be able to take it because Daisy and Peach’s kingdoms stand together. Its 2 kingdoms against 1.

But somehow he managed to kidnap Peach. Not sure how he did it but this meant he had the upper hand. He threatened to harm or even kill Peach if they didn’t surrender their land to Bowser.

Its right after this all starts that the Mario brothers show up and end up rescuing her.

Thank you! I’m glad you like my work! :DD But so far nah... I mostly just came back to goof around with the Octo-dads for a bit. Not much work being done on my Octonauts AUs...

When Foxy was reactivated he only went out of the basement for that first night. And Freddy guided him through blind spots in the cameras.

After that first night Foxy never left the basement. Neither did Bonnie. So Vanessa never saw Foxy and doesn’t know they’ve both been reactivated.

@multifandom-traveler

XD You can like what ever you want man! You’re never too old to enjoy your old comfort shows.

Also thank you! I’m glad you like it! :DD

aaaa thank you!!

Also its okay. Internets gonna internet. There’s always gonna be people who disrespect you for no reason. 🤷‍♂️

@livinwa

snffle.... t-tnk u

Awe you’re too kind, Thank you!

I have not :0 I’ve heard good things about it though!

@dumbfishiesparadise

Wow really? :0 That’s nuts!

@scrumpitouscollectorpuppy

Man, that’s an unfortunate way to find me. But its cool that you did! Also AAAA thank you!!! I’m glad you like my artwork!! :DD

#my response #super mario bros #fnaf security breach #bibi and jangles

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delphinus-dancer · 5 months

Text

Why Mihaly’s [spoiler] form is different, and what it could mean

Sorry for the clickbait-esque title, but I’m not sure on the state of the Jd 2024 storymode spoilers with the fandom, so spoilers for the storymode ahead (including images)!

It’s also a bit long because I’m back on my bs of overanalyzing Mihaly

I’ve already made a post about Mihaly in the 2024 story mode with elements of their journey and uniqueness of their interactions with Night Swan- which grants them a lot of depth, in terms of their dances and character. With Night Swan’s corruption at the end of 2024 altering the costumes of Wanderlust, Brezziana, and Sara as well, the refs posted via the YouTube short allow for several details to become clear. (Shoutout to the costume department- they’re gorgeous!!) As pointed out in another post by @phoenixriaartemis , Mihaly’s headphones become the belt in their Dark form, and without the earbuds, Mihaly would be unable to connect with their headspace. I initially thought this was the case as well, since Mihaly’s maps both begin by placing them in their ears to enter their space of contemplation, practice, and growth. (More on that in a moment.)

As I noticed when I did the other post, Mihaly is the only one of the corrupted dancers to maintain elements of their original outfit. I initially thought it was only the leggings and wraps, but after comparing the concept art, those parts have changed too- the pants are shorter with rips cutting up, and the wraps come up further. While part of it could be chalked up to a different dancer portraying Mihaly in their dark form and requiring an alternative costume even for similar pieces, I think those elements are more deliberate. Looking at the headphones, pants, and wraps, they can be viewed as something Mihaly retains, but is twisted by a vision of perfection- just to a lesser extent than the others, who don’t retain any aspects like that.

It wasn’t until a Rather Be rewatch that I noticed something that I completely overlooked: the details of Master Panda’s design.

Although Mihaly’s design mimics his closely, there are some notable elements where they are different. There are two small ones of note: the piercings on his left ear, and the headphones. When Mihaly assumes the panda form in Never Be Like You, they gain almost all elements of his costume, barring some colors. Their hair color is retained in his hairstyle, and while their pants lighten to dark blue, they become looser to match his. However, there are two elements unique to the panda that they do not gain: the headphone belt and the two piercings. (Sorry for the image quality below.)

Instead, in its place are two over the ear headphones, which seemingly combine those elements into one- the headphone component and the piercings/ear adornments. As a result, the headphone belt and piercings are absent, even in the form where Mihaly seemingly achieves mastery of a milestone in their training. While this could be chalked up to Mihaly’s individual understanding of the Flow, its commonality seems more significant.

Let’s consider the Panda’s costume to represent mastery of the Flow. Since the headphones are used as a belt rather than their practical purpose, this indicates that instead of needing the headphones and the music they provide to connect with the Flow and be transported to that higher plane, it can be done by mastering the Flow within oneself. After all, the Master Panda appears in both maps independent of Mihaly’s music, and appears/disappears on his own time. Even when Mihaly gains the Panda form, they still keep the over ear headphones, binding them to the music, even in their supposed ascension.

Going off of that, let’s look Mihaly’s Dark Form again. (Sorry for the same photo again!)

It’s easier to see in the art than the photo, but since the headphones have become a belt, Mihaly has also gained the earrings in their left ear. Between this and the dark feather elements being the least prominent out of all the corrupted dancers, including Jack in Treasure, Night Swan’s vision of perfection is not very present.

Instead, Mihaly’s Dark form is ‘tainted’ by Night Swan’s influence with the creeping feathers on their robe and the alternations to their leggings and wraps, but the overall costume is Mihaly’s own idea of perfect: a master of the Flow. With the headphones as the belt, this represents their goal of connection beyond the confines of music, and piercings of the Panda could possibly symbolize mastery of the spiritual and physical realms they inhabit in their maps.

By gaining both of these elements that they have yet to achieve and lacking as much of Night Swan’s influence, it seems to imply that Mihaly has retained a degree of control over their identity that the others lack. In the other post, I speculated this could be because of how they were initially corrupted. Rather than passively falling to the smoke Sara brings in, the smoke comes from offscreen (presumably from Night Swan herself), and they send out the message to Jack while actively losing their color. They also have a degree of control and agency throughout their part of Swan Lake that Wanderlust and Brezziana lack, since Sara does not actively defeat Mihaly or control any smoke during their part. Night Swan also may not have subdued them as much, with the short interval between losing their color and the Dark forms appearing, causing the perfection imposed on Mihaly to have more elements of their own than Night Swan intended.

Going off of that, as I said in the last post, Mihaly could be the easiest coach to return to normal, as they have presumably retained the most of their former self. While they could be reached through the usual method of dance fights/battles, they may also be brought back by the true, pure Flow they aspire to practice. If they are returned to normal before the other coaches, maybe they could achieve the true mastery they’ve sought after by freeing them.

Whatever the story mode holds for Mihaly and the other coaches, I have a feeling the true mastery of the Flow they’ve sought after is somewhere in cards for their future appearances, both literal and physical.

If you’ve read this far, then thank you for listening to my rambling! Hope you have a great day/night and feel free to fire back with any ideas or questions!

#just dance #just dance 2024 #jd spoilers #jd mihaly #jd panda #just dance spoilers #just dance mihaly #mihaly #jd 2024

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unknownanomoly · 3 months

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Every single Rainworld artist, new or old, please read!

So while this is on my mind, I just thought I would say something at the moment. I have seen so many, so many, artists copy or very closely copy a design from another persons since they really like their style and hope that if their style looks like this famous artists then they will get the same attention. This is slightly annoying to me, now drawing other peoples art or practicing design by using someone else's design then somehow in anyway making it super original is perfectly fine by me, it's really good to do that! But when you copy someone's design so closely that is looks like your trying to rip off their designs, that's not ok. another problem i see is people hating their designs cause they are not "detailed" or "pretty" or "different" enough from others. Now this post is gonna be about how you can make your own character with existing characters WITHOUT using someone else's design and not making the character "look boring" to you and others. Now no character is boring, everyone's different styles are amazing, this is not suppose to be a bad thing, this is just suppose to help other artists think better with making canon characters look original. Im gonna use Hunter as an example since I was drawing him when i thought of this. So hunter, let's take this step by step: Step 1: Do NOT look at a canon photo unless it's necessary for like a certain iconic scar or eye color or color or anything else like that, but completely IGNORE that canon design. Step 2: Break up what the canon character looks like into words. EX: Hunter is a slugcat with his color being on the red scale. He is being infected with the rot and is NSH's messenger. Now with this description a thousand different ideas can be made, I mean on the red scale could be red, pink, or all the way to a brown even! Then infected by rot? He could be fully infected by rot or he could be partly or be halfway, maybe he was cured from rot. And NSG's messenger? He could have a weird marking resembling that, or always have a green neuron with him, or have green eyes or green clothing or green markings, really anything! Now wasn't that easy ^w^ Step 3: Sketch/Doodle Do NOT instantly make a design choice unless you have one in mind right away, start doodling first, either digital or on paper and see how you like the design first, and if you like it then there you go! Now you ofc can change your design later on but it's better to have a main idea instead of posting something right away then regretting it since you don't like it. EX: For my Rivulet I first had him being a little more like the true rivulet design since the lore for my AU was different then, but when I was finally drawing him I didn't like his design and so I started messing around with it and finally I came up with my water bat design for him. Step 4: Finally, you have made it this far into the steps, you may now draw it completely, make a ref sheet or don't, join in on character group drawings and yada yada, you have your own design and you like it and that's all that matters! Step 5: Have fun, you are not limited by the canon design. Design however you like, give them any lore that probably isn't canon if you want to, make them aroace or gay or lesbian, change their gender, mess around, make them siblings with random people that shouldn't be their siblings, mess around with families and personalities, do what YOU want, no what others want or like ^w^ Hope this helped anyone who needed it!

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stefisdoingthings · 26 days

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I NEED to rant about the trigun stampede designs in comparison with trigun 1998 because like… they had so much potential and the show threw it out the window or something.

(Edit: i haven’t read the manga so the mole thing doesn’t stand much but, again, this is only compared to ‘98 so plss dont attack me guys i swear i liked stampede)

rant, spoilers (?) + photo evidence under the cut

Tbh Knives/Vash bother me most, esp during their childhood. In tri98, they look almost identical at first, with only difference their hair color (Vash’s is more of a saturated blonde while Knives’ is closer bleach-blonde), and the mole under Vash’s left eye. Later on Vash get his hair cut and styled in spikes by Rem, while Knives takes liberty and cuts his own hair military-style. That’s about when they start to have individuality. This individuality reflects on their actions, with Vash trying to free a butterfly from a spiderweb, and Knives just killing the spider, thinking it's the most rational solution.

In tristamp, they lack any kind of individuality, with the twins having mirrored haircuts and Knives a mole under his right eye, which really really doesn’t make sense to me; I thought the mole was supposed to represent the flawed, more human nature of Vash (just like his scars), and the absence of it on Knives’ face to be a reminder that he is, for that reason, better, almost perfect and, most definitely, not human. (Edit: guys I’ve been informed it exists in the manga but I’d still like it if it didn’t)

With that they lose every kind of individuality, and it doesn't make sense for them to look so different while they're adults however having similar hairstyles despite not seeing each other for years.

(not even going to mention the fact that they made him dead pale in stampede and instead of increasing his melanin and making his hair lighter they lightened both skin and hair color but it's not relevant to this kind of analysis and just a stylistic choice i guess)

As adults in tri98 they keep their hairstyles and Knives keeps a more military-looking outfit, which looks a whole lot like the SEEDS outfit they wore when abandoning the ship, while Vash has this super over-the-top outfit with the red coat and all. Tristamp keeps the idea of Knives wearing a similar outfit and Vash going crazy with his fit, but by doing so they made both of them look insanely different and inhuman, Vash looking too clean, with technical, expensive-looking, new clothing, and Knives just straight up looking strange. Nothing about his outfit even suggests human.

For Knives I don't think the point is to look human, so it doesn't matter, but Vash is too odd-looking to be considered one of the humans, while his goal is just this; to look super cool but still human enough. In tri98 this communicates well, but not in tristamp.

(i couldn't find a pic of knives as a kid w the uniform but its the same as vash's)

Also, they're built so differently... Vash looks like a 17 year old kid and Knives looks over 25, their bodies should look the same (they're Plants after all) but with Knives being stronger in terms of power and skill, not having abs.

Basically the main problem is that the designs rely a lot on the aesthetics but not the practicality/lore-accuracy of them. I know tristamp is not meant to follow the original plot line, it just makes me a little insane how little the relationships between the characters were incorporated into these designs.

#sorry for this i just had to get it out my system #my friends suffered this rant incoherently so i had the obligation to write an actual thing and post it on tumblr #rant #i need someone to talk abt this to #i dont know if it makes sense i sort of gave up during the end #trigun #trigun 1998 #trigun stampede #vash the stampede #knives millions #millions knives

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writerblue275 · 2 months

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My favorite LoL skin (with photos) for each Heartsteel member (excluding their Heartsteel/Prestige Heartsteel and Base skins)

So I absolutely adore the Heartsteel skin line, and for Aphelios, Kayn, and Yone, their Heartsteel skins are arguably my favorite skins of theirs (especially Yone’s Prestige Heartsteel skin). HOWEVER. I want to talk about some other amazing skins too. Three of the ones I’ll mention come from the same skin line, but listen, it’s a beautiful line. Also note: These are based on the splash art. I know some of the aesthetics change when translated to a player model. Ok let’s GOOOOO!

Aphelios: Spirit Blossom Aphelios

I love the COLORS of this skin. I love Spirit Blossom Aphelios’ hair design (like damn Phel go off with the man bun/small pony I see you), outfit/accessories, the markings on his face, and how his horns are opposite to Alune’s. (Also can we discuss how Alune also looks so pretty here like omg. I’m so glad they made sure she fit into this as well.) But Aphelios just looks softer than some of his other skins and it’s an interesting vibe from him. I dig it!

Ezreal: Faerie Court Ezreal & Prestige Heavenscale Ezreal.

(Listen I genuinely can’t fucking pick between them so he gets two.)

THE OUTFIT (with all its wing motifs). THE WINGS. THE PINK HAIR. HIS expression!! I love the redesign of his gauntlet as well. Another thing that I really enjoy is how they managed to keep his face markings and make them unique. His face markings are a trademark element of Ezreal’s base skin so I’m glad they kept those here. AHHHHH HE JUST LOOKS SO GOOD. This is just such a fun reimagine for his character.

This might be one of his two newest skins but holy fuck it’s already one of my favs. His HAIR. MY GOD IT’S SO GOOD?? His pose and expression exude so much power and confidence. His gauntlet with the draconic claw and his horns is just so fun. Also that OUTFIT? His outfit genuinely looks amazing. The color combo of light blue, maroon, and gold is just EXCELLENT. Again, they also kept face markings of some kind, even if they moved from his cheeks to his forehead.

Kayn: Snow Moon Kayn

Kayn’s skins are always fun because you really get 3-in-1 with Kayn, his shadow assassin form, and Rhaast. I love a good black and red (with gold accents) theme and the Loki-esque horns, as well as the addition of the furs on his basic Kayn form are really cool. And the shaddow assassin’s hair. My goodness I do love a man with long white hair 😂 (this will appear again later). I love the color contrast between the shadow assassin and Rhaast designs as well. Also Rhaast looks badass. Terrifying, but still badass.

K’Sante: Prestige Empyrean K’Sante

This skin is so fucking cool. We get to see his face here unlike the original Empyrean K’Sante skin. I love the color scheme with the purple, gold, white, and pink as well as the designs on the clothes/his weapons. The little pink on his face also adds a really small but eye-catching detail that I very much enjoy. Also Lil Nas X helped design this skin and I think that’s so fucking cool.

Sett: Spirit Blossom Sett

Ok listen yes a bit of the reasoning for all these is that the characters themselves look fine as fuck. But holy shit look at Sett here. LOVE his long white hair (hehe what did I say it’s a pattern) with his ears here. That outfit and the accessories are stunning. And again the color palette for the spirit blossom line is just so pretty. Sett just looks so in charge and powerful here. He really is the boss. (Also shoutout to the [I believe] first instance of canon SettPhel which happened in the lore/voice interactions for this line.)

Yone: Spirit Blossom Yone

Look at him. LOOK AT YONE. There is something about Yone with longer white hair that is just so…right, even if it’s tied back or braided. All the beautiful shades of purple in his outfit too! I love. I also like how, besides the horns and his hands/arms, he seems almost human and he’s not stuck to his mask like in his base skin (though I do love his base skin). He also just gives off really pleasant vibes in this. I cannot explain it lmao.

These are my thoughts! These are just my opinions, and frankly so many of these champions have so many amazing skins. I’d love to hear your favorites if you have opinions!

#writerblue275 gremlin hours #aphelios #aphelios and alune #ezreal #kayn #shieda kayn #k’sante #sett #settrigh #yone #league of legends #league of legends opinions

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stariisoda · 4 months

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Arcana Themed Kandi Bracelets (PART 1)

The Main Six! (Left: Asra, Julian and Nadia/Right: Muriel, Portia and Lucio

Guess who got into Kandi making? Me. Wanted to make some Arcana inspired singles (cause that's all I can make lol)

So I went with the most obvious characters:the ones you can date in game.... Duhhh....

(I'm gonna make more, maybe the courtiers next???)

(Read for more photos and explanation)

Asra: I chose a heart charm that has a smaller heart inside of it for... Obvious plot reasons. Then the teal and purple because I think teal is their favorite color? I think? And purple because that's what I see when I think about him. Star beads because magic. Also, the little white tri-beads kinda look like bones from the side, so take that as you will.

Nadia: I picked an owl charm for her because it could either represent Chandra or The High Priestess. Her colors are mainly her color palette, and most of the beads are pearlesent.

Julian: There wasn't a raven, but this bird that kinda looks like a hummingbird? Whoops, I just couldn't find anything else that reminded me of him. So the bird is supposed to represent either Malak, The Hanged Man or a plague doctor mask (the beak is long lol) This one is pretty plain, having black beads in the back and two ab finish black beads in the front. And the red.

Muriel: You can't really see it in this angle, but I picked a house charm, because it reminds me of his little hut in the woods. Also Muriel's a home body. Used the tri-beads again for the same purpose as Asra. Chose big blocky letters because it better suits his vibe. And then more earthy tones, with the black ab beads for his cloak.

Portia: A cat charm to represent either Pepi or The Star. Star beads because The Star. Then the rest of it is just her color palette. (Don't know a whole lot about her, sorry)

Lucio: I picked a crown charm because... Because he's the count. Also it's so ugly, I honestly dislike his bracelet, despite him being my favorite character. I chose those awful gold beads because, let's be honest, Lucio would love that. Picked them because they were kinda over the top. (Originally was going to use the same letter beads as Asra and Nadia.) Uses small red beads and two faceted yellow beads at the front (looks like gems). The rest is his color palette, although it's mainly ab, pearl and glitter colors other than the red, which is solid. I made his bracelet ugly on purpose because he would probably have something like that. (Oh, he has his necklace haha)