#sunwaxed

[sxrgeantbarnes]

@sunwaxed​ (Yelena) || Starter call ft. Alpine

“Oh.” He didn’t notice her at first, too busy looking down as he dug in his pocket for his keys. He completely missed that there was someone standing in front of his door until Alpine meowed loudly in his arms and jumped down to greet their…guest? He watched his cat nudge her head onto the girl's legs, demanding attention. “Um. Did you want to pet her?”

[ascendgravity-moved]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐓 𝐀 smile form on his lips. He was used to going up against Nazi’s. Not solo treasure hunters. At least, that’s what Indy assumed she was. Still, he flashed her a bright grin, exuding his classic charms. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t find Risa alluring and attractive to boot. “Don’t suppose you’re in the market for a partner?” he teased before grabbing his whisky cup and taking a sip. Indy was the type to go at things alone. But maybe it was time to hang up his solo career and have someone join him.

@sunwaxed (Risa) gets a shippy starter !

[chauvesourisnoire]

❛  whatever  you’ve  got  planned ,  i’m  game .  ❜ / from dinah ? @sunwaxed​

They’re strolling out of the banquet hall and into the Gotham night air when Dinah speaks. He hums lightly with consideration as her arm links with his, and the valet goes to fetch his car as they wait on the sidewalk. “I didn’t have any plans---outside of dinner.” That much was a given. It’s been a long enough evening, putting on appearances for this fundraiser. He glances over at her, gaze soft with a certain fondness. Dinah is, somehow, even more a vision than usual, glimmering in the gold dress he had gifted her for the occasion. 

“I could get us a table at Dorsia,” he volunteers. They’re dressed for that kind of fine dining, but the portions are ridiculously small and it’s full of pretentious men and their equally haughty spouses. It’s not exactly the kind of atmosphere he wants to go into after enduring the same kind of energy for the past three hours---even if it is exclusive enough for them to get a private table. “Or...” he begins as a counter offer, “there’s a really good iHop on that corner.”  

[bastxrdsisgone]

"Something you want to say?"

The night had been relatively quiet other than tracking down yet another fight club that seemed to crop up each time he took them down. Each night he felt like he was getting closer and closer, and once he found it? He wouldn't waste any time bringing it down once and for all. Or at least that had been his plan until he stumbled upon — he didn't know what the hell he'd stumbled upon. Not even Khonshu was willing to pipe up and say something. And that was extremely unusual given how many times Marc had dealt with the god giving his commentary. But neither of them knew what to say looking at the other. He'd seen plenty of heroes given is work in the city and outside of it. None of them, though, came off like this one. And he had to wonder if this was real or something worse. "Maybe explain who the hell you are and what you're doing here."

@sunwaxed​ (leo from theshitman)

[shadowselved]

@sunwaxed​ |  ♡

“Is that what we’re doing today?” He looked up from the sword he was sharpening, amusement in his gaze. “We’re fighting?”

[hexsrealityarchived2]

@sunwaxed​ inquired: ❛ i’m just glad you’re okay. ❜ / from vis or stephen ?

&. 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.⤷ Accepting!!

“I’m okay, I swear.” Wanda said, in between heavy gasps for air, as though she were being choked. In a metaphorical sense, she was being choked, each day was a battle for control of her body between her and the fragment of Chthon that was inside her. She moved her hand from her face, gliding it upwards to rake her curls backwards from her face. Wanda was a bit embarrassed that Stephen had caught her in mid-possession, and he was the one to subdue the god.  

[overclocksaaa]

@sunwaxed​ / oksana: “Sexting? Nah, I’m into spexting. Spooky texting. Ever seen a ghost? Hit me up.” tumblr text posts / accepting

“Ghosts aren’t real.”  All due respect to Bats, the goodest boy ghost to ever exist, who is an outlier and should not be counted in this round of data collection.  Wanna know how many ghosts outside of one overweight basset hound with a lack of filter about everyone’s business he’s seen?  That’s right.  The answer, in reality, is zero.  None.  Nada.  Zilch.  Zippo.  Ghosts, like anything at all in the spiritual realm - and he says this wholly as a guy who’s literally fist fought his own father in Hell and been to Asgard and caught a ride in a cart pulled by two magical goats (and this is why he hates magic) belonging to a literal, actual god - are all wishful thinking and being unable to let go of grief.  He’s said what he’s said and he’s not taking it back.

Cryptids, on the other hand-

“Focus up.  You haven’t reached the level of friendship where we swap recipes and three am thoughts over comm banter yet.”

[ascendgravity-moved]

@sunwaxed​ sent in: ❝  i remember little more than scattered images from my life then.  ❞ / risa to lincoln ?

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐃 turned heavy. Far more heavy than his normal type of interaction. The woman who had strolled into the bar, looking like she held a purpose, had unloaded on the professor. He marveled at her circumstances. Her life. A real live treasure hunter. A female Indiana Jones. Or a Lara Croft. If he didn’t have control of himself, Lincoln was sure he’d be wearing a stupid grin on his lips.

“I take it things are better now though, right? You get to explore the world and uncover history.” A wistful smile touched his lips. “I think it’d be fun to be a historical consultant. Too bad I went into genetics,” he teased.