#I need to do more on Nova honestly

[voros-kiralyno]

Rare starter call from the Alpha

Hit the like and we can plot- if youre a witch character PLEASE read the PSA in my pinned.

if you'd like to you can specify Nova, or one of my guest muses- Celeste, Astrid, or Anna.

#starter call #I need to do more on Nova honestly #I love her to pieces #she deserves more attention besides that simp Damon #ooc

[nova-amor]

𝑰𝑵𝑫𝑼𝑳𝑮𝑬 𝑴𝑬

𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒆𝒑𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒅𝒆 | 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | 𝒏𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝒆𝒑𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒅𝒆

𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒎𝒆𝒓: 𝒕𝒐𝒋𝒊 𝒇𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒐

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 2.8𝒌

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔: 𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒕 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚, 𝒃𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒌, 𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒌 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒂𝒕 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐, 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒆, 𝒄𝒖𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒔, 𝒅𝒆𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝒉𝒖𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒅 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚, 𝒑-𝒊𝒏-𝒗 𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 [ 𝒔𝒍𝒖𝒕 & 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒆 ], 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒑𝒆𝒕 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 [ 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍, 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚, 𝒆𝒕𝒄. ]

with the flat of your hands, you smoothed out any lingering wrinkles along the skirt of your dress, mindlessly picking out any pet hairs that had embedded themselves into the fabric. after snoozing through your alarm one too many times that morning, you had forgotten to grab a lint roll on the way to the shoot that morning.

"helloo! welcome to nova's blind dating, you guys can talk now!" the director introduced, beaming at the two of you with a brilliant smile. "thank you so much for letting us here at nova productions set you up with somebody else in the industry."

you readjusted the headset on your head, the foam pads squeezing at your ear lobes; you couldn't wait for the moment to be able to take them off. they were basically squeezing any thoughts out of your head, you'd need an advil or two after this.

"so guys, have you ever been set up on a blind date?" the director questioned. the crew worked diligently behind them, carrying in more of the much-needed stage and ring lights. 

you leaned forward into the microphone, gripping the sides of the stool you were sitting on to keep your balance.

"yes, it was through a mutual friend, someone else in the industry," you answered honestly, thinking back fondly on the memory of your first and last blind date. "i won't be saying any names, but i'm sure they'll see this video later, and the guy was cool. the date went really well, and we kept dating afterward, but it just didn't work out."

"how about you?" one of the cameras shifted towards the other participant, their identity obscured by the placement of a large curtain between you. you had a sneaking suspicion of who it could be, but you couldn't quite put a solid guess on their identity if asked.

"a couple of times actually," the man revealed, their voice altered to sounding more high-pitched. another step to prevent either of you from figuring out who the other person was. "only one really stuck out; we went out on a few more dates, but our careers kept getting in the way, so we had to call it quits."

the director shook their head, offering the two of you a pitiful smile. "such a shame. well the team thanks you again for letting us match you guys together," the director commented, setting the cue cards facedown on their lap. "but enough with the sadness, we're all here to have a good time! so, share with us what you'd like to experience sexually today— what mood are you in? what do you like?"

without a moment of hesitation, you brought the microphone closer to you, the idea of what you wanted from today's experience already cemented into your mind. "rough, i want really rough sex today," you glimpsed over to the curtain. "like choking, spanking, all of it— i want all of it."

"i'm down for anything, as long as i can get my dick sucked," your partner responded. you felt a bit shameless acting so lewd in front of the crew. yet, you knew what either of you said was neither the filthiest thing they've heard or seen. "i got no plans after this so i'm hoping for the most soul-sucking head ever, the type of shit that makes you feel like you've died and gone to heaven."

you shifted in your seat, pressing your thighs together. you could feel your panties begin to grow damp, pussy lips tingling in anticipation for the big reveal.

"are either of you prepared for that? is that okay with ya'll before we start rolling?" the director inquired as the both of you turned your heads to face the curtain. not in an attempt to get a peek at one another, but because of the undiminished tension brewing between you two. you then both answered at the same time, almost as if there was a psychic connection formed between you.

"yes." 

"hell yes."

"okay, perfect. so, let's take off our headsets; just hook them onto the microphone thingy. remember, no talking!" the director began to instruct. you wanted to ask one more thing, the question dying in your throat as you hopped off your stool. you could ask after the shoot. "just slowly step forward and meet your blind date!"

by just catching a glimpse of the shaggy black hair, you already knew who your partner was. your body moved on instinct, arms shooting out to wrap around his neck and tug him into a tight embrace. he reciprocated quickly, his hands grabbing at your waist— bodies flushed tightly against one another. 

your gut had been right— you had been matched with fushiguro toji.

"i already knew it was you," you giggled, burying your face into the crook of toji's neck. you shamelessly inhaled his scent, the bold and erotic aroma of his signature cologne brought a certain level of peace to you. you had always loved how the combination of mango, lemon, and sandalwood paired so well with toji's natural body scent. 

"i knew that you knew it was me," toji pulled away from the embrace a little to get a proper look at you, cock already starting to stir beneath the confinement of his pants. "the same way you knew it was me. a gut feeling, right, baby?"

your smile grew bigger, and your cheeks began to heat up. you and toji had always had some form of a mental connection, maintained throughout the years you had worked together in the industry. 

it was well-known amongst the other actors and actresses, that there was nothing quite like your relationship. the cameras that recorded your time together didn't do enough justice to truly capture the depths of your emotions held for one another; whenever you did work together, all the cameras, crews, and lights faded away— it was as if you had entered your own little world, one that no one else would be able to experience.

without another word from the director, toji guided you over to the king-sized bed at the center of the room, a knowing smile already painted across his face. your fingers were interlaced with his, the warmth of his palm already making your heartache.

"come here, baby," toji twirled you around so that the back of your legs were against the edge of the bed, his hand trailing up your arm to find a place on the back of your neck. he craned his neck to look down at you, his forehead lightly pressed to yours. "let's give 'em a good show."

it wasn't long before the two of you were fully undressed, clothing articles scattered along the wooden floor. your legs were laced around toji's head, thighs muffling his ears as he flickered his tongue against your clit. he was three fingers deep into your pussy, wrist curled and forearm tight from how hard he was fucking his fingers into you.

your moans were loud, his name leaving your lips like a song with the tone of a soprano. you almost wanted to cry; after years of acting together on screen and some private moments off-screen, toji had become an expert in your anatomy. he was well-rehearsed in what you liked— how you liked it when he curled his fingers into you rather than twisting, how you liked your clit to be licked rather than sucked on, how when he angled his mouth and fingers just right you'd instantly squirt.

"fuck yes! make a fuckin' mess— give it to me, baby—" toji moaned, his head shaking left and right between your thighs as your release sprayed like a hose all over his face. he opened his mouth a bit more, eagerly swallowing your load. whatever his mouth couldn't catch fell to the floor, pitter-pattering down like raindrops. 

"look at that cockdrunk face," he peered up at you, the pace of his fingers beginning to slow down. your thighs quivered around his head, your chest rising and falling rapidly from your heavy pants. "think ya can handle returning the favor, baby? or did i fuck you too good that you can't?"

toji then pulled his head out from between your thighs, a whine leaving your lips as soon as he retracted his fingers from inside you. he stood up, his skin glistening under the warm lights of the bedroom, dampened with sweat. you'd never get tired of such a sight.

"n-no, please, toji," you whimpered, pussy lips glistening under the glow of the lights. you spread your legs out wider, offering your cunt up on a shiny platter to toji and the cameras. "fuck my mouth, baby, wanna taste your cock. missed ya so much, need it."

"mmm, now that's my good girl. lay your head over the edge for me, baby girl," he directed you, his large hand stroking the length of his cock. his thumb ran over the slit of his head, smearing pre-cum along his tip with each graze.

you dutifully followed his instructions, flipping around to dangle your head over the bed's edge, laid sprawled out before him. he tapped his cock's head against your lips, running the tip along the outline of your greedy lips. 

"stick out that pretty tongue, baby," and you obediently did so, sticking the wet muscle out as far as possible. toji slapped the flat of your tongue with his cock's head, your delightful hums filling the air as the weight of his cock smacked you.

your hands pawed at the back of his thighs, urging him closer to your awaiting mouth. toji then slowly edged his cock into you, his head tilting back as a series of groans and words of praise left his lips.

"missed this fuckin' mouth," toji breathed out, his hips rutting into your mouth. your throat had already been trained to handle his massive size, yet you couldn't suppress the few gags that slipped out when his cock pushed past your uvula. 

"fuck, fuck, fuck, yesss— that's it, baby— bein' such a good girl, let me use you like the good little slut you are—" toji began to slam deep into you, his scrotum smacking against your eyes and nose with each vigorous thrust. "relax your fuckin' throat, baby— that's it— that's it— fucckkk,"

tears welled in your eyes, your jaw growing more sore from the damage he was bringing to your mouth. you couldn't bring yourself to stop him, eyes rolling into the back of your head. it felt too good to stop now. but, just as his balls began to tighten, evidence that he was close to his release, toji stopped.

"tojiii, nooo," you whined, hands reaching out to feebly paw at his cock. toji was too quick for you though, taking a large step back, just barely out of your reach. "tojii, c'meree— thought ya wanted me t' suck the soul out of ya, baby."

toji shook his head, biting his lip. he ran his fingers through his hair, combing the fringe back as he smirked down at you. 

"and ya fuckin' did, baby girl, almost made me pass out from how good you were takin' me," toji answered, moving back towards you. you scrambled onto your hands and knees, looking up at him with big, round eyes. the desperation for him to rail you evident on your pretty little face. "just need t' be inside your little cunny right now. don't you want me to stuff you full, baby?"

you stretched your arms out, curving your back deeper and deeper until your ass was high in the air. toji let out a whistle, his eyes zeroing in on your ass like a predator hunting down prey. he climbed into the bed next to you, shuffling to get behind you.

he landed a harsh smack to your ass cheeks, the impact of the slap ricocheting off the fat of your ass like waves. you wiggled your ass for him, silently begging for him to do it again.

"you like that, huh? shakin' that ass for me like the dirty slut you are," another brutal slap landed on your ass, a smile tugging on your lips. it felt like you had died and gone to heaven, your clit throbbing and twitching for attention with each blow. "c'mon, baby, tell me you want this cock— i know you do, pussy's drooling all over the sheets."

another slap sent your mind into a frenzy, your tongue moving on its own accord. "yesyesyes— fuck, toji, give it to me," you rambled, tongue-tied. you couldn't think straight, not with the way he was massaging your cunt with one hand and spanking you with the other. "want you to use me."

toji chuckled, "oh really? fuckin' bet." 

your eyes crossed as soon as toji slid his cock into you, your walls fluttering around his girth. your pussy was practically frothing at the base of his cock, a thick white ring beginning to form, thin strings of bodily juices connecting you with each thrust. his hips rutted into your ass, his balls swinging hard to smack against your clit.

one of his hands was pressed to the small of your back while the other gripped your side, forcing you to stay in place as he pounded into you. your back arched deeper, tits swinging and drooling seeping out of the side of your mouth with accompanying loud moans.

"this is what you wanted, right? wanted t' be my fuck toy? my pretty little doll t' use whenever i want?" toji hissed through gritted teeth, the edges of his nails digging into your skin. each thrust shook the bed, shifting it along the floor from the momentum. "fucked too dumb to speak, huh? better t' keep that mouth shut anyway, not like ya have anythin' important to say."

you were stunned into silence, your brain officially having been reduced to a puddle of pink mush. toji then grabbed at the back of your head, gripping your scalp to yank you up. the back of your head rested against his shoulder, his hand snaking around to grip the front of your throat.

his hips rutted into you, plowing into your g-spot relentlessly with the new angle. the expression you were wearing must've been a pathetic one, your eyes brimming with tears and bottom lip quivering. toji basked in the sight— mesmerized by how beautiful you always looked when he was buried deep inside you.

"kiss me," toji whispers to you, his tone a million times softer than his thrusts. regardless of how rough the sex was, toji always found a way to make it seem tender and romantic. "kiss me, baby, missed those pretty lips."

you hooked one of your hands onto the back of toji's head, pulling him in for the kiss he so desperately wanted. his lips were just as soft as you had remembered, the musky flavor of your release still lingering on his mouth.

your lips moved in a passionate dance— tongues meddling together, swirling around one another, a heated battle to assert dominance. his mouth devoured yours, saliva pooling out the corners of your mouth and staining your chin. 

the knot at the pit of your stomach tightened, your abs tightening with how close you were to reaching your peak. sensing the change, toji's other hand snaked down to your clit, rolling the sensitive nub between his fingers. the stimulation proving to be just what you needed to send you over the edge.

"toji," you whimpered against his lips as he continued to fuck you through your climax. he had his own goal to reach. "cum in me, toji, need it. need it need it need it."

he peppered kisses down the side of your face, his lips latching to the underside of your jaw as you tilted your head further to the side to allow him more access. his teeth sunk into the column, leaving a series of bite marks and hickeys. you weren't his girl, at least not officially, yet he still wanted to stake some form of claim over you.

"m-mine, t-that'ss what youu are," toji stuttered, thick white ropes of his seed painting your insides. he kept rutting his hips into you, drowning your walls with his large load. "mine, mine, mine. my girl. my best girl."

"yeah, baby," you could barely breathe anymore. too far gone, body gone completely limp in his arms. you could careless about the crew or the cameras anymore. this was the little world you shared with toji, the closest thing you knew that love felt like. "i'm all yours, always will be."

#❄️.smut #angelshubnetwork #toji fushiguro x fem!reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #toji fushiguro smut #fushiguro toji smut #toji fushiguro x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #toji smut #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji zenin #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #toji x you #jjk toji #jujutsu toji #toji x y/n #jjk x fem!reader #jjk fanfic #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #toji fushiguro x you #x female reader

[brittle-doughie]

I think this is purposeful but I don’t want to assume anything, but I’m slowly realizing that the higher tier/more stronger a cookie is, the more possessive they are for Y/N Cookie. Like sure, they’re are definitely some outliers I can think of (Ex: Lilac Cookie and Kumiho Cookie are only Epic), but things go from 0 to 10000 real fast once you dip into the Legendaries and more. The Ancients, the Five Beasts, the Dragons, the Mercookies (hell honestly just Black/White Pearl alone is 😰), and legendaries like Sea Fairy or even Xylitol Nova get scary.

[TLDR: I kindly request a scenario or headcanons of the Legendaries, Ancients, Dragons, and Beasts making their respective cases as to why they deserve Y/N Cookie with them arguing and interrupting each other’s cases.]

The Originals

They’ve been around the longest, so they’d be very familiar with you at this point and would know what your interests and needs are like, so allow them to-

HOLD IT!

The Breakers/Kingdoms

Time and experience is an advantage, but tastes and interest do change from time to time, so that advantage can be rendered moot if they don’t catch up on what you like. The Ovenbreak/Kingdom legendaries are more up to date on what your preferences are, so they should be the ones to-

OBJECTION!

The Ancients

But do the legendaries overall have the strength to defend you? The Ancient Cookies think not! Since they’re placed above the legendary rarity, they’re obviously proven that they are much more capable of using the power of their soul jams to protect you from any and all threats! Who could possibly do what they can’t-

TAKE THAT!

The Dragons

The Dragons laugh (minus Longan) at the sheer jokes these cookies were flinging around. You needed more then some pathetic cookies in your presence to tend to all your needs and provide protection. Longan simply considered cookies to be beneath them and they should be to you. Don’t even bother with these-

HOLD IT! AGAIN!

The Beasts

How could these overgrown lizards be calling cookies pathetic when the Beast Cookies have been around since the beginning! They know EVERYTHING on how things worked from long ago to right now! Clearly, every single one of these clowns in this room don’t even know what they’re saying, the Beasts are more then capable of taking you under their care. If not, Eternal Sugar Cookie isn’t afraid to go ballistic!

The Epic rarity Cookies? Ha! They can go sit in the lame table! The powerful cookies are talking here!

It was purposeful. :)

#brittle answers #cookie run x you #cookie run x reader #cr x reader #cookie run #crk x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #cookie run kingdom #cr kingdom #cookie run ovenbreak #crob x you #crob x reader #cookie run ovenbreak x reader

[starrysharks]

OK heres zeno coloring tutorial 2.0 !!!! i'm gonna do it kind of in chapters i guess?

chapter 1: choosing base colors

when i'm choosing base colors i always pick everything based on a specific off-white! my 'default' off-white is this kind of very light cyan color but i change it regularly based on character designs/environment/lighting whatever,, examples here!

for callie in this piece, i based everything off of this pinkish color! her skin tone, tentacles, outfit etc are all chosen to harmonise/contrast with the pink color

and with this piece, i used a slightly darker blueish color as they're in space but there's still a lot of light... and the lighter colors in the background (the explosion) make a sense of depth i guess? i used that blue color and chose similar cool colors to harmonise with it!

so i more or less base the tone of the colors in the piece off the off-white! warm off-white = warmer colors (like the nova valentine's day art) and cold off white = cooler colors (like the explosion nova and paro art). but i switch up this formula often !!

chapter 2: coloring specific things

here i'll go over some specific textures and stuff like skin and hair ... skin first !!

for skin, i like to use a variety of tones! there are different ways to draw cooler and warmer skintones that other people have gone over way better than i have but basically for skin i use this part of the color wheel and pick the darker tones of oranges/reds/pinks etc. (for darker skintones, i go to the middle of the color square thingy, and for lighter tones, i usually slide down the upper-right side)

when it comes to shading skintones, it's pretty straightforward, just a darkish-purple and a pinkish color on 100% multiply, and i always add a little shadow on the nose and blush becuz i think it's cute

(also i like to add reflective spots on darker skin tones sometimes because 1. darker skin tones reflect in real life and 2. it's fun)

next up is hair... this is very specific to my artstyle but i like to add 3-6 long oval line thingies to the hair to mimic reflection ! it looks cool, it's a good way to show off different colors in the design and i like to switch it up sometimes based on a character's personality!! (like how the frye pic above has a lighting bolt shaped hair thing, or how my teto design has a wing shaped hair thing to mimic her wings in her chimera form!) (note: it doesn't always need to be lighter than the actually hair color and it usually isn't)

for other materials like metal, screens, etc etc... i just add random X marks lol... and reflections!!!

(also, just a general thing, but adding little saturated lines to shading really adds depth and color imo!!)

i would put more tips with refs but tumbles only allows 10 images per post ;w; so i will simply close off by saying don't be afraid to add overlays and filters to your art!! overlays can really help harmonise colors and filters like brightness and contrast can help colors pop... try not to completely rely on them for color choice tho!!

and that's basically it !!! this is not a definitive 'how to draw/color' post... i am not a color theorist... i just wanted to show people how i choose colors cuz a lot of people say they like my color choices! honestly i don't know much myself but i hope that this and the philosophy of 'do what looks good' will help you all o_ob thank you and goodbye

#long post #ah its so freeing to have zero character limit on this site #i did want to add more pics tho 😭 #i would make a part two but i dont have much else to say #hope this helps people maybe #also idk how to add a cut/'continue reading' thingy on mobile so if someone could tell me how id appreciate it 😭😭😭

[satellite-evans]

Chris Evans loving on his pregnant wife for 20 minutes straight

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Summary: a fan made a video about your husband not being able to keep himself from talking about you and your unborn child at all times.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Fluff. Like y’all know you can’t expect anything else from me at this point

A/N: I would like to say before y'all come to me and say 'my omg you copied @astranva how could you' I didn't. Nova herself is cool with it and I'm just sick of you guys always putting us against each other. We are both fluff writers for the same white dude. Similarities are going to happen. So please, don't attack me, and don't full nova's inbox with bullshit. Thank you. <3

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

Chris Evans is a well-known name in Hollywood. Not only for his looks, his iconic role as Captain America, and his famous left boob grab, but the way he kept talking about you in all his interviews.

There was no denying that he was obsessed with you and even more since you carried his child. This obsession was even noticed by fans that they couldn't help but make a video about their favorite Marvel star.

Chris Evans loving on his pregnant wife for 20 minutes straight.

The trending internet video started with a clip of Chris in his famous white suit standing in front of the cameras at the knives out the premiere.

While everyone was screaming at him and trying to get his attention, his eyes were only locked on you, mesmerized by your beauty and making sure you were okay, that the baby was fine.

"Hey Chris, how are you? Good to see you." The voice of the extratv journalist was heard while she was shaking his hand.

"What was it like to be a part of it and work with the cast?" Her first question came immediately after the introduction and made Chris think for a few seconds.

" Uh, I-It was uh, very humbling, y'know a-a lot very talented people who've had uh very long career in this industry so, a lot to learn."

Just when the interviewer was going to shoot him with another question, Chris showed he was clearly not done with his answer.

"Also, also I would like to say that it meant a lot to my wife, Y/N, too." He pointed towards you, where you were standing next to his publicist, trying not to take his thunder away tonight with your very pregnant belly.

"Oh yeah, Y/N is also here tonight! Let's let her join in this interview too!"

Chris then waved the woman off "No, that's okay. She doesn't like this type of thing and I want to respect that. But yeah, she is the reason I accepted this-the job. She is, y'know- my wife is very into detective work and solving crimes so when the opportunity came I just-I had to take it to make her happy."

The next clip showed Chris yet with another interviewer, but this time he was sitting in front of her with Ana de Armas next to him.

"So first, I wanted to say congratulations to Chris. You and your wife are expecting a baby."

In an instant, a smile grew on his face, and he got excited since the conversation was his favorite topic.

"That's right, yeah." He said, with a smirk on his face and his pink in his mouth.

"So how does that feel, becoming a dad after waiting all those years?"

He answered the question with such ease, " It is exciting, but also intimidating, in a way." He started, "Just like you said the need- I wanted to have a family for so long, you think I would've mentally prepared myself, but it is nothing like that. You're scared, you're nervous, you-you constantly thinking if you're going to be a great dad, y'know? All these questions come up and make you more anxious than you already are but, thankfully I have Y/N, she-"

"Omg, she is amazing," Ana interrupted him.

Chris nodded immediately, agreeing with her statement.

"So amazing. I mean, honestly, without her, I think I would be lost. She is the best wife, the best friend, and I know she is going to be the best mother for our child. I-I don't know what I would do without her."

"That's so cute. I'm so happy for you, Chris."

The next clip was him in Massachusetts, on a set of Defending Jacob posing in front of the cameras with a bunch of fans.

"Man, when are you growing your hair back, we loved it in infinity war!" A man said while recording the encounters between Chris and his fans. He smiled and looked towards the guy who said: " I'm sorry but, the wife doesn't like it, so it's not gonna happen. Whatever she wants."

With that, he waved at the fans for the last time before going back to his trailer. He almost missed the guy's response:

"Never thought Captain America was gonna be pussy-whipped!"

Without turning back, Chris shouted back to him : "Why are you saying like it's a bad thing!"

Another video was added of him at the tonight show starring Jimmy Fallon.

"Did you-where you sad when you had to do the end-last scene?" Jimmy asked him after they started talking about the success of Avengers Endgame.

"Yeah, it was very emotional. I mean, it's emotional. These movies are a huge part of your life. And so, when they come to an end, it really it has an impact. But thankfully, I had my wife by my side who supported me throughout everything and, y'know, was there when I needed that extra emotional support."

"Speaking of your wife, Y/N, congratulations buddy she is pregnant!"

The whole crowd started cheering and clapping, Including Jimmy himself, and Chris could only smile and nod, showing how proud he was.

"Yeah, she is. We're expecting a child together, which sounds so odd when I say it because my dream I had for years finally became a reality."

The whole audience was awed, making Chris swoon.

"I am so happy for you pal, I truly am. So how far along is she?"

He looked in the air, thinking and making sure he was giving the right answers.

"She is- tomorrow she will be 7 months pregnant, yeah. Again, I couldn't be more excited about the whole thing. She is incredible. I mean literally, words don't even describe how much she means to me. I love her so much and can't wait to meet our baby."

"That's incredible news, buddy."

The final clip of the video was a self-recorded video Chris made to wish one of his fans a happy birthday.

"Hey Josh, it's me, Chris Evans. So your friends told me you turned 21, and I just wanted to say, have a happy birthday buddy. You're finally at the age that you can drink, at least legally, so go out and have a drink and enjoy it with your friends as much as you can. I would've joined you guys, but y'know, the missus is pregnant and we don't want her to scream at us like a street cat, do we?"

The video also caught you screaming from behind.

"Hey, I heard that!"

"I was just joking honey, all good here!" Chris screamed back. " She just proved my point," he whispered "anyway, happy birthday buddy, thank you for all the love, and enjoy your day. I've gotta show some love to my wife. Don't want her to get too mad at me. See you later, pal."

The video was so loved that it got 10 million in just one day and received many comments from fans:

user1: plsss the way he looks at her, he's down BAD

user2: when is someone going to talk about me the way Chris is talking about his pregnant wife?? WHEN???

user3: I love how he randomly brings up y/n during any conversation lmao

user4: NOT THE STREET CAT LMAOOO

The video got so much love that it even caught the attention of the man himself, Chris Evans.

#cevans #chris evans #chris evans fic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans fic rec #chris evans fluff #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x fem!reader #dad!chris evans #fluff #chris evans x you #evansedit #chris evans x wife!reader #chris evans x female reader

[vodika-vibes]

I had a thought! You'd said you liked to write for Bacara but he was sorta niche... what if reader needed to learn Bacara - as *he* wants to be known. Let's say that Reader catches his attention (do we want to do medic!Reader?) and whether it's Bacara coming in with a brother or himself as the patient, he develops Feelings for Reader. He wants Reader to know what makes him unique from his brothers, his best qualities... allllllll that stuff, but I'm also trying to utilize this as an intro to Bacara because I don't know a thing about him! *the truth comes out* So like Bacara's Best Sides, According To Him or something? If this isn't hitting, feel free to ignore! Thank you 🌑

Best Of Me

Summary: You're a Doctor attached to the Nova Corps, and Commander Bacara is a mystery wrapped in an enigma. Luckily, he wants to be more open with you.

Pairing: Commander Bacara x F!Reader

Word Count: 1821

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: I couldn't quite make your request work as written based on Bacara's personality, but I hope that this is okay too!

“How are you holding up?” You look up from where you’re checking your kit, and it takes you a moment to recognize Commander Bacara under all of the muck covering his armor.

“Oh, Commander,” You straighten, “I’m okay. This isn’t really what I was expecting when I was sent to the Nova Corps, though.”

You watch as he removes his helmet and sets it on a chair, and you frown when you see a bruise over his eye, not to mention the dark circles under his eyes. 

You fight the urge to force him to sit down to give him a full exam. Commander Bacara only allows his brothers to give him medical attention. You know this.

“You’re not doing terribly,” Bacara says, high praise coming from him honestly, “I half expected you to complain about being forced to leave the ship.”

You frown at him, slightly hurt, “I wasn’t aware that you had such a low opinion of me, Commander.”

He blinks at you, seemingly surprised by your words, “I…no. That’s not what I meant.”

You squint at him. Commander Bacara is a loner, the other men in the Nova Corps were all very careful about making sure that you knew that. They warned you that he, likely, wasn’t going to talk to you much, and when he did, he was going to insult you.

And, in the year that you’ve been assigned to this battalion, you’ve come to recognize that he is something of a loner. And a perfectionist. But never rude, and in fact, this is the closest he’s ever come to insulting you at all.

“Are you alright, Commander?” You ask, “Did you take a hit to the head?”

He frowns at you, “I don’t have a concussion.”

“I think you should let me be the judge of that, don’t you?” You ask gently, though you don’t move closer to him. If he doesn’t want you to treat him, then you won’t. But if he leaves, then you will shoot a message to Syringe, the CMO of the Nova Corps.

Bacara doesn’t say anything for a moment, and then he sighs, “Fine, but make it quick. I need to get back to General Mundi.”

You smile at him warmly, “Of course, Commander.”

He sinks into one of the chairs, and you walk over to give him a quick exam. You keep your touch gentle, not wanting to give him any reason to now want to come back to you for medical attention, “This is really unnecessary,” he grumbles.

“Better safe than sorry, right Commander?” You ask with a bright smile as you tilt his head back slightly, “Any nausea?”

“None.”

“Headache? Dizziness?”

“No, and no.”

You move your fingers to his jaw to tilt his head a little bit, but his hands come up and wrap around your wrists. Firmly, but not roughly, “I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Worrying is what I do, Commander. It’s part of my job. But you seem fine, so I’ll let you get back to work.”

“I appreciate it.” He releases your wrists and gets to his feet.

Bacara towers over you, but you’ve never been intimidated by him. Instead you smile at him, warm and soft, and then you step away to go back to your project.

Bacara grabs his helmet and he hesitates for a moment, “Hey, Doc-?”

“Hm? Is something wrong, Commander?”

He absently passes his helmet from one hand to the other, “No. Not wrong.” Bacara finally says, before he flashes the smallest smile in your direction, “I’d like to get to know you better, when we have the time.” He admits, “I know what my brothers told you about me…and I’d like you to meet the real me.”

You blink at him, and then you flash a bright smile, “I look forward to it, Commander.”

His small smile widens a little bit, and then he pulls his helmet on and he’s gone. Back to the fighting. Back to the war.

You turn back to your work, a small grin on your lips. 

You’re not unused to the men in the Nova Corps flirting with you. For some of them it comes as easily as breathing. But Bacara has always been a little different.

Honestly, you’re not even sure if he was flirting with you. But hey, a girl can dream, right?

Bacara sighs as he walks through the darkened halls of the ship. It’s late enough that he should be in bed, just like the majority of his brothers, but he can’t seem to settle his mind enough to actually get some rest.

The Nova Corps has been fighting on this planet for four months now, and he’s long since moved past tired and onto full on exhausted.

But, since he can’t sleep, he might as well get some work done…or maybe just work out some of the energy on the training mats.

He pauses as he passes the medbay. The light is still on, which is strange, since he knows that there’s no patients at the moment. Lightly he raps on the door, and then slides the door open.

And the moment he sees her, his breath catches.

To be completely frank, his crush on the pretty doctor is humiliating. Especially since he knows he’s one of over a dozen men who are crushing on her. One of over a dozen identical men, many of whom are more approachable than he is.

She lifts her gaze from her datapad, and her pretty eyes zero in on him, before a brilliant smile crosses her lips.

Bacara feels his heart skip a beat, she really is unfairly pretty. And that smile of hers should be classified as a weapon with how much it affects him. 

“Commander!” Even her voice is unfairly pretty.

He’s so kriffed.

“You’re up late,” Bacara notes as he glances around the room, and sees that all of the beds are empty, “Shouldn’t you be taking a break?”

She laughs, “I laid down and ended up just tossing and turning, so I thought I’d just bore myself to sleep.”

He pauses, “Want some company?”

“I would love some company.” 

He steps into the room and allows the door to slide shut behind him as he crosses the room and sinks into the chair across from her with a sigh. 

She’s still smiling at him, all warm and pretty, “So, why are you awake?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Bacara admits as he tilts his head back, “I’m so kriffing tired, but I can’t sleep.”

Her smile is sympathetic, “I have something I can give you to help you sleep, if you like.”

“That’s nice of you, but no thanks.” He glances at you, “So, what are you working on?”

“Just making my notes in the files of the men who saw me today,” She rests her chin on the palm of her hand, her gaze locked on his face, “It’s a shame that we’re always jumping from one battle to another. I have some ideas that I wanted to try to work on-” 

“Yeah?”

She shrugs, “I’m a medical doctor, yeah, but I started off as a medical researcher.”

“Researching what?”

“Viruses, bacteria, cancers,” She shrugs one shoulder, “Honestly, I find your enhanced aging fascinating, and with enough time I’m sure I could reverse it.”

Bacara stares at her, “Why would you do that?”

“Because you all deserve a chance at a regular life when the war is over,” And then she laughs softly, “I haven’t actually started doing any research yet though.”

“Why not?”

“I wasn’t sure anyone would agree. And I didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up.”

“You should. I’ll let you take blood or whatever from me,” Bacara offers.

“I might just take you up on that offer,” She replies with a small smile, “You know, I think this is the longest conversation we’ve ever had.”

“Yeah, well…” He shrugs, “I know my brothers told stories about me.”

“They did.” Her voice is soft, “I haven’t found any of the stories to be true, though. I think you’re very likable.”

Bacara’s heart flips again, “...how likable?” He can’t stop himself from asking.

She laughs, though there’s nothing cruel about it, “Very likable.”

“Oh, good.”

She pauses and twirls her pen between her fingers, “Actually, Bacara,” She says slowly, and he jolts as she says his name rather than his rank, “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Go ahead.”

“Are you…that is, do you have any interest in dating?” She asks as she doesn’t meet his gaze.

“I suppose,” Bacara says slowly, his mouth slightly dry, “That depends on who the other person is.”

“If it was, say, me?”

“I’d be very interested.” He replies immediately.

A small smile lifts her lips, “In that case, would you like to go on a date with me? There’s not a lot we can do on the ship, but we can still have a movie night or something.”

“Yes!” Bacara blurts, and then his face heats, “Ah…I mean, yes. I would like that.”

She giggles and Bacara’s even more smitten, “Then it’s a plan.” She pauses for a moment and sets her pen on the table, before she gets to her feet and walks over to him.

Slowly she ducks her head and presses her lips against his temple.

Her lips are warm and soft and it takes every ounce of his will power to stop from wrapping his arms around her and pulling her onto his lap and kissing her like how he’s been dreaming of for months.

“Was that okay?” She asks softly.

“Yes.” He replies hoarsely, “It’s more than okay.”

Some of the worry fades from her face, and she smiles at him warmly. And then she gently takes his hand and pulls him to his feet. “Why don’t you lay down on one of the beds here?” She offers.

Bacara frowns, “I’m not sick-”

“No, but you are tired. Maybe you’ll sleep better with me in the room with you?”

The offer is a kind one, and, really, there’s no harm in trying. So he settles on one of the beds. She dims the lights and then returns to his side, and lightly trails her fingers through his hair, “Goodnight, Bacara.”

“Hm…night.” He replies as he drifts off to sleep.

And an hour later, he stirs when he feels a gentle weight on the bed. He blinks, blearily, trying to get his bearings. And then a small smile crosses his face when he sees the Doc with her head resting on her arms, fast asleep while sitting in a chair.

Slowly, he eases her into the bed next to him, and he wraps an arm around her as she tucks her head under his chin, already mostly asleep.

Sure, he’ll have to deal with his brothers’ teasing in the morning, but it’s worth it to have her in his arms.

#star wars #tcw #commander bacara x reader #bacara x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

[areyougonnabe]

for the polar history recap posts, i’m dying to know more about lillie…deeply tragic and i’ve also heard something about the nickname ‘ooze’ and i desperately need to know more about that

LILLIE 😭😭😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

denis (also spelled dennis) gascoigne lillie was born in 1884, making him 26 when the terra nova set off for antarctica. he was trained in natural sciences at cambridge (although he didn't do too well on his exams) and was appointed as the ship's biologist—meaning he did not form part of the shore party in the hut in at cape evans, but remained on board the ship during the winter, studying antarctic marine biology including whales, plankton, and deep-sea creatures like sponges (like the one pictured above). his nickname "ooze" comes from his job as biologist—ooze refers to a specific kind of biological marine sediment that got pulled up in seabed dredges which lillie would then examine.

in silas's diary on the voyage south, he describes lillie:

Lilley—"Hercules'" or "Sequins" is rather a dreamer and asserts he can remember his former existences in this world. Much fun can be got from him if handled properly.

lillie was noted by other members of the expedition to be a bit of a crackpot, asserting that he was a persian and a roman in his past lives. and more than that, possibly:

Lillie had decided that he was not the marrying type, claiming that he had evolved beyond it. In later years Scott’s young Norwegian skiing expert Tryggve Gran recounted that as they crossed the Equator on the Terra Nova Lillie had revealed that he was a woman trapped in a man’s body. ‘When I see a naked man I blush,’ he allegedly said as the others sprawled shirtless on the deck in tropical sunshine, ‘I am split and I can’t help it. Luckily I understand myself and have the control to avoid doing anything wrong.’ Gran was a notoriously unreliable source, and it is hard to imagine anyone having the courage to say that under those circumstances; but perhaps Lillie did.

(from sara wheeler's cherry)

usually i would not recommend anyone trust anything that comes out of gran's mouth, but honestly i do buy this, because, well... vibes.

anyway, on the terra nova, lillie was notable for his talent at caricature, and several of his rather hilariously cruel drawings appeared (copied by wilson) in the south polar times, including this one of birdie:

while the shore party was in antarctica, lillie spent two winters in new zealand studying whales, fossils, and anthropology:

Lillie has been fossilizing & is off next month for 5 months whaling with the Norwegians. He is looking very well & very happy and is ‘a dear little chap’ to use Scott’s expression.

—pennell's diary, may 18 1911

after returning to england, taking the long way round on board the terra nova to continue his marine research, lillie took up residence at cambridge again, alongside deb, silas, priestley, and griff, to work up the scientific results from the expedition.

lillie also spent a lot of time with atch and pennell in 1913, frequently accompanying them to dine and see theater in london. he also drew (probably on board the ship) the caricature of them as the "antarctic lovebirds":

during the war, he was a conscientious objector—a "conchie," refusing to go to the front. it was an incredibly difficult position to maintain in the face of widespread societal opposition. he found solace in a continued and deepening relationship with cherry (who was also not at the front, though in his case for health reasons) as sara wheeler describes in her biography of cherry:

Currently working as a bacteriologist for the military, Lillie had been one of the few visitors at Lamer during the bad months in the middle of 1916. They became unusually intimate (‘I should love to see your chubby cheeks again’), and after one weekend Lillie scrawled with typical irreverence in his note of thanks that, ‘It was only my body which left you, for my ultimate Reality still walks behind your Bath chair and meditates about the many paths of your lovely garden. With love.’

and god i just need to copy these entire sections from the wheeler in here because they make me want to sob:

In September 1916 he had been transferred to the pathology lab of a military hospital in Bournemouth, which he loathed (‘no nice cliffs or sea birds, only sand banks and orange peel’), and was appalled to learn the next year that Cherry was poised to become engaged to Christine Davis (‘being unconventional and as near to nature as I can get, it seems all wrong to me that you should have to tie yourself up for the sake of Society’), but he strove, generally, to be optimistic, whereas Cherry was permanently resigned to his destiny. In August 1917 Lillie returned to Lamer for a week. Writing in advance with details of his train to Hatfield, he concluded that, ‘if a motor does not turn up the wings of joy will waft me those four-and-a-half miles bag included. So don’t worry.’ They had a wonderful time together. ‘I do hope,’ Lillie wrote when he was back in horrible Bournemouth, ‘your throat and the rest of you continues to get well and worthy of the sunny spirit which I see under the label ACG.'

though things seemed to be going as well as they could for lillie, shortly before the end of the war in early 1918, he suffered a nervous breakdown and landed in the notorious bethlem mental institution, known as bedlam. he was there for three years, and cherry was barred from visiting him.

he emerged for a short period of time in 1921, seemingly recovered, and took up lecturing in biology again at cambridge, but by the end of that year had relapsed and was institutionalized again.

frank debenham, writing to expedition agent j.j. kinsey in 1927 to solicit funding for SPRI, gave him an update:

Poor old Lillie is in less happy circumstances, the last I heard of him was that he was never likely to get out of Bedlam, a rather ghastly end up for poor old "Ooze's" brilliant promise.

lillie spent the rest of his life in institutions, and lived until the age of 78, dying in 1963. that was four years after the death of his friend cherry—who, despite constant attempts, was never allowed to visit him.

per UK law, lillie's medical records will be sealed until 2063, 100 years after his death, but a post on bethlem's official blog about lillie briefly notes that he was "depressed, delusional and suicidal."

the post also notes, importantly, that his breakdown had nothing whatsoever to do with his antarctic experiences:

The content of his medical notes suggests that the state of mind that brought him to hospital was entirely unrelated to his experiences of 1910-1913. Indeed, they report that “on the whole he felt better during this time”. 

OK, let's end on a nice note. here's a picture of him having a nice time at silas's wedding (i think) with his best friends. RIP lillie, i hope your next life is going well somewhere out there right now 🥲💓

(also another good writeup on lillie with some lovely art can be found on @worstjourney's patreon here!)

#denis lillie #terra nova #polar exploration #this marine biologist is TRANSGENDER !!!

[a-dinosaur-a-day]

Did you Know

Mammal bias isn't the only one when it comes to researching nature and deep time?

There are more!

There is also time bias! As I have discussed with @quark-nova, Essentially, because the more recent something is the easier it is to learn about - more remains of things, more details from the rocks, etc. - we also have ridiculous amounts of bias towards more recent times. This is clearest when it comes to the traditional geologic time scale - the further back you go, the longer time periods are, and nothing is divided particularly evenly. I would even say the "anthropocene" is the biggest offender in this - if we zoomed out from today to a hundred million years ago, all of the extinctions and chaos of the past 2.5 million years would get lumped together into one big mass extinction, not separated out into nitty gritty and frankly narcissistic time slices.

Then there is geographical bias! You'd think people studying the whole biosphere wouldn't have this, but we do! Thanks to *colonialism!* The geologies of North America and Europe are significantly better studied than the rest of the world, which is fighting hard to catch up. This even extends to our knowledge of modern life, with many new species still being discovered in "the global south" (I personally prefer the term Gondwana, but what can you do). And we have no one to blame for that but ourselves.

And another one is land bias! Because we are land organisms, we tend to think about land ecosystems more than oceanic ones - in fact, the ocean only really gets enough time on it in the early stages of life, everything before the Silurian, because there isn't a land ecosystem to focus on more! But the oceans are just as influential in our past - honestly, moreso - than land ecosystems, even today - think about how much El Niño affects us all! But how many people know about the end cretaceous extinction, and not the mesozoic marine revolution? How many people know that reefs at the end Cretaceous were just, made by bivalves for some reason? The list goes on.

Then there's the one most people know about already - megafaunal and charismatic bias! This often goes hand in hand with mammal bias, but essentially, because we ourselves are megafauna - I know we specifically define megafauna to exclude humans, but how the hell is that logical - we operate on a big scale, at any rate - we tend to favor megafauna in our knowledge of the past and our understanding of life. And, if its not megafauna, it at least has to be charismatic - cute, extra weird maybe, or familiar. This affects modern research so much, especially conservation and research funding - not just paleo, but also neontological work. Charismatic Megafauna get everything, and everyone else gets scraps.

This is just the tip of the iceberg! All scientists bring in bias - that's why we need as many scientists as possible, so we have as many perspectives as possible to come up with the most parsimonious and universal view of nature - but some biases are fairly universal for humans and need to be murdered in our heads by all of us. Why did Wingspan and Holotype both start with North America when the best birds are in South America and the best fossil dinosaurs are in Asia? The list is infinite.

The biases we have because of the way history has played out, the way preservation works, and because of what kind of organisms we are as humans, are ones we all have to work to disassemble and deconstruct in our brains. The more we do so, the more we can look at the big picture, understand our entire biosphere, and work together to protect it.

Plus, imagine how much cool stuff we'll learn about when we finally take the time to do so.

We have nothing to lose but our chains.

#mammal bias #time bias #land bias #charismatic megafauna #geographical bias #palaeoblr #paleoblr

[they-stare-i-ship]

I finished reading the atlas paradox

and now you're subjected to my SPOILERY thoughts.

Parisa Kamali: I love Parisa, I have loved her since the first book. I LIKE HER SO MUCH she's funny she's mean she's cool she's kind. She's incredibly powerful. She's so interesting and I really enjoyed how she slowly became "her royal softness". Whenever we have her pov it's so fun. I love how she's not scared of Atlas and how she challenged him. I can't wait to see what she does in the next book. I'm actually excited to see how Dalton has changed and how she reacts to them in the next book. Her relationship with Nico makes me so feel so nice. I also need her to be kiss Reina sometime in the next book.

Nico de Varona: he's been my annoying lil baby since the first book. I loved how he became more fleshed out in this book. I loved how lonely he got, his relationship with Reina and Tristan really intrigues me. HE'S SUCH A CHILD sometimes and I love him for it. Obviously I have spent the two books insane bc I knew he was in love with Gideon, I just knew it and they're just *chef's kiss* also speaking of his relationship with people, I think him and Libby will be stunning as besties, I truly cannot perceive them as romantic. They act so sibling like or even just asshole bestie like.

Reina Mori: when we started with this series I actually had more hopes from her. I feel like she didn't do much (especially in book 2) and my girl really doesn't understand communication. If she just talked to people sigh. But honestly her God thing, I am down. Go off, I'm excited to see her go off the rails bc people didn't talk to her the way she could have understood. I am low-key in love with how funny the duo of Reina and Callum is, tbh. I also get major ace vibes from her.

Libby Rhodes: honestly she was my second least favourite amount the six when we started. She desperately needed the corruption arc we got in the later half of the book. I think I will like her a lot more now. Her crush on belen was stunning to read. I can't wait for Libby to fuck shit up, literally fuck everyone up. And I genuinely truly deeply want her relationship with Nico to just be friendship. Friendships are equally as important and the fact that the universe made them parallel to eachother is my favourite thing.

Callum Nova: honestly I didn't really like him much during the first book, he was fine but we had more interesting characters. BUT DAMN CALLUM NOVA POST HEARTBREAK?? ~~ exquisite ~~ he's so fucking funny and hopeless and sad and pathetic. he is so desperate for love and so upset that he was denied it. He's my pathetic lil meow meow. Also I would LOVE to see him use his powers more in the future. As we keep learning about it, I keep loving him. Also I need Tristan to beg Callum to take him back.

Tristan Caine: actually I didn't enjoy his povs at all in the first book, I couldn't wait for them to be over. He is still my least favourite among the six but in the second book he was more interesting and fun. I'm a lil anxious of how Atlas is gonna use him and his powers. I don't care much of him but I want him to beg Callum or regret it for the rest of his existence. Also I hate LibbyTristan as a romantic permanent thing, they can fuck around and have fun but pls end at that.

Gideon Drake: I have loved him since day 1. He was the softer kinder balance to Nico's aggressive and abrasiveness. He is so interesting, his origin and his powers. I spent both the book wishing we had more of him. Now that we are out of the library maybe he'll get to play a more active role in the book. I am obsessed with Gideon (bc Nico is obsessed with Gideon) I love the tidbits we learn about Gideon like how Libby always liked him more or how max travelled with him for the rescue of the "prince". I want Gideon to have everything he wants, that's all.

Atlas Blakeley: I have been think of Giancarlo Esposito as Atlas the entire time. There's no explanation it's just vibes

Ezra: I'm glad he's dead 💖

#Reina mori #nico de varona #libby rhodes #tristan caine #callum nova #parisa kamali #the atlas six #the atlas paradox #the atlas complex #the atlas trilogy #the atlas series #olivie blake #lgbt books #atlas blakely #gideon drake #nicogideon #novacaine

[mayhemthemamp]

TNG Bridge Crew and how I imagine hugging them would be like

Picard: gives out one hug a year, it is a brief embrace with a clap on the back and then you are never allowed to speak of it again.

— Riker is usually the recipient of Picard’s annual hug, but only because he will push past people or make sure that nobody else remembers that it’s hug day to get it. Except for the one year after the Nova incident at Starfleet Academy, when he lets Wesley have the hug. The Boy needed it.

Riker: This. Man. Is. A. Hugger. It doesn’t matter if you’ve known him for ten minutes or ten years, the man is like Oprah with his hugs. “EVERYBODY GETS A HUUUUUUUG!” But honestly, with how much he cares about his crew, he is more than willing to give a hug to anyone who needs it (Deanna helps him determine which crew members both need a hug and would be receptive to them). And he gives the kind of hugs that squish your soul back into your body, and depending on the severity of the need for a hug he may add in anywhere from a gentle rocking from side to side or a kiss to the top of the head—with consent of course.

Data: fascinated by the concept of hugs and the physical and mental health benefits that they can provide. Has to be careful though. He once experimented by hugging Geordie and ended up bruising a couple of his ribs.

Deanna: is open to all forms of consensual physical affection. Thanks to her empathic abilities, she always knows who’s in need of a hug and how much they need it. And when she comes up to you and gives you that hug you so desperately need that you end up sobbing on her shoulder, she gently coaxes you to her office, and that’s how she gets you into therapy. Mental health matters y’all! Go to therapy.

Geordie: a hugger, but only with the people he knows really well. Definitely suffers from “nice guy” syndrome, but it’s not because he’s creepy, just autistic. What do you mean my offer of friendship was came across as a come on? How is watching ancient cartoons on the holodeck romantic? The people who do get to be on the receiving end of Geordie’s hugs say that they’re very nice, similar soul-squishing experience as Riker’s, just shorter and less frequent.

Beverly: similar to Geordie, she only hugs people she knows very well, because she strives to maintain an air or professionalism, since literally any crew member could wind up being a patient. Gives the typical mom hugs that usually accompany warm chocolate chip cookies straight out of the replicator.

Wesley: Wants Hugs. Needs Hugs. Deserves Hugs. Only gets hugs from his mom and maybe Riker. And Geordie one time. And of course, his singular Picard hug. But seriously, someone give Wesley hugs!

Worf: absolutely not a hugger. Worf values his personal space and will remind you of it if he even thinks you’re getting too close. But if he were a hugger, he would give the kind of hugs that lift you off your feet and crack your back.

Tasha: Given her upbringing, she is not a hugger and relatively touch-averse. But if she wants to show you affection, she will give your shoulders a gentle squeeze, accompanied with a nod of her head. Similar to a cat’s slow blink, you wouldn’t know it’s affection unless you know her, but if she does show it to you, consider yourselves lucky to be in her favor.

#star trek next gen #star trek #next Gen bridge crew #jean luc picard #william riker #data soong #deanna troi #geordie la forge #beverly crusher #wesley crusher #worf rozhenko #dear god someone give Wesley a hug!

[itsstrange]

Bounded

Fandom: MW2

Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

A/N: Finished playing the campaign a couple days ago and my love for this man has awaken once again. I remember I used to have a crush on him as a kid and those feelings have arisen once again! So, for all you Ghost sluts, this one is for you!

Summary: After a mission gone wrong, both (Y/n) and Ghost are forced to hideout in an abandoned apartment complex, where things soon get interesting.

Word Count: 6.5K

Warnings: (Yes) Injury, Blood, Mentions of Death, Cursing, Smut, Kissing, Confessions, Fingering, Slight Rough Sex, Just Pure Smut. (+18)

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Enjoy! 🔥

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Things went to shit rather quickly. It was supposed to be a simple mission, or at least that’s what Lasswell told them. Breach. Kill. Search for any intel and Get Out. Simple right? No. Not fucking simple at all. They were misgiven information, supposedly there would be a skeleton crew of 10 hostiles guarding the broken down building, not 40, and now (Y/n) is sporting a good bullet to the torso while being carried out by none than other Simon “Ghost” Riley. In other words, the Lieutenant, and the one man that can easily clashed throats with her. Fucking great.

They walked in with six men, now only them two were making their way down the flooded streets of Mexico. Rain poured down on them as they quickly looked for a place to lay low, but every building they’d pass through was either lit on fire, completely destroyed or too exposed. Which gave them the only option to keep walking until they found something much more inviting and secured. However, they were quickly running out of time considering (Y/n) was barely able to stand on her own feet. The bullet on her side was sending white hot pain throughout her body with each step she took, it didn’t look like it because of the rain pouring on them but she really was losing a lot of blood. She was actually surprised she had survived walking two miles without collapsing, then again it was the adrenaline that gave her the strength.

Which quickly began fading off the longer she stood on her feet. Her energy was decreasing now with the adrenaline gone and it didn’t help when unbearable pain shot through her side with each step she took. Eventually, it became too much that she honestly just needed a break. Just five seconds, or ten wouldn’t kill anyone.

“Wait wait,” (Y/n) harshly whispers as she leans her hand against a ruined car, breath coming out in harsh puffs, “Just— Just gimme a minute,”

“Negative. Can’t do that soldier. We gotta keep movin,” Ghost says, voice firm and stiff, with a small hint of worry, which of course she didn’t catch,

(Y/n) let’s out an exhausted sigh through her mouth as she hangs her head. Even that was becoming difficult to keep upright. He should just leave her, save himself, she was only slowing them down and risking both—his life.

“C’mon Nova,” Ghost calls her by her call sign as he carefully pulls her off the car, “We need to find shelter so I can patch ya up,”

“Move it,” He orders as he begins walking, forcing her to do the same, causing a pained groan to leave her lips as the sudden movement causes pain to shoot from her wound,

Placing a bloodied hand on said wound, she slowly walks alongside the brute man, who kept his eyes peeled for any danger and shelter that look safe enough. Even though her heart was thundering in her ears, she would often catch his harsh breaths or grunts as he carried mostly all her weight or would reposition her around his shoulders whenever he’d feel her slipping away. Most of the time she’d do it on purpose to get him to leave her on the ground and save himself from the dead weight, but he wasn’t having it, he’d only tighten his grip on her and would continue walking through the flooded streets.

“Where do you take someone who’s had a peek-a-boo accident?” Ghost suddenly says as he scans the buildings, faint grunts leaving his mouth every once and a while,

“No,” She flatly responds, she’s honestly not in the mood for his ridiculous dad jokes,

“To the I.C.U,” Ignoring her he goes ahead and finishes his joke, which only receives him a breathless scoff along with a small shake of a head,

Dark humor just like his soul.

“You honestly have no filter Riley,” (Y/n) says through gritted teeth when he accidentally applied a little too much pressure on her wound, causing the Brit to apologize as he continues down the street,

Silence settles between them, only the sound of rain hitting the ground, fire cracking in certain buildings, their ragged breaths mixed with grunts and pained groans are heard. (Y/n) felt like they’ve had been walking for years, when in reality it had only been 30 minutes, however, if they didn’t find a place soon she knew her legs would give out sooner rather than later.

About another mile of walking through the flooded streets, hiding from shadows every so often, and tripping over her own feet more than once, they eventually found shelter. It wasn’t the best, but it was certainly better than the other buildings they’ve been passing through. It was good enough to allow them catch their breaths for an hour or so before they had to keep moving, which (Y/n) honestly didn’t care, just as long as she was able to rest for a few minutes.

The moment Ghost kicks open the door, makes sure it’s secured and begins walking through the door it was as if her body knew it was okay to relax now because she suddenly slips away from Ghosts grip, causing her to land hard on the floor with a loud exhausted groan.

“Fuckin’ hell (Y/n),” Ghost curses underneath his breath as he quickly helps her off the floor,

With quick movements he leads her towards a beaten down couch he spots in one corner and gently lays her down. Earning him pained groans as he watches her clutch to her side with eyes tightly shut. Her breathing was coming out in quick short puffs, as she laid on the couch while the lieutenant moved around the small beaten apartment looking for supplies. A minute later he comes back with a kitchen knife, a piece of cloth, and a bottle of what seemed to be tequila but she wasn’t given the chance to observe it properly considering her vision began failing her due to the amount of blood she had lost.

“Soldier, keep your eyes open,” Ghost demands as he hurriedly preps his improvised kit,

“Nova!” He shouts when he catches her drifting, but it was no use, exhaustion was quickly winning over her body,

The last thing she’s able to hear was her real name falling from his lips once again before darkness over takes her, sending her into a peaceful, quiet, dreamless sleep.

******

The sound of thunder roaring and rattling against the walls jolts (Y/n) from her sleep. Brows knitting together in confusion when her eyes stare upwards towards a dark ceiling, and even more so when she notices she’s covered with something. Slightly angling her head she realizes it’s a hoodie, not just any hoodie though, she recognizes it almost immediately. It was Ghosts navy hoodie that he was wearing under his vest, and now it’s draped over her, nearly covering her body from how big it was.

As she slowly peeled the hoodie off her frame, which smelled like cigarettes mixed with gun oil and cologne, the scent of Ghost, she noticed how her side had been bandaged up. Pain still lingered, sending jolts of it with every small movement she made, but at least she wasn’t bleeding out or better yet, dead. Glancing up from her covered wound, she immediately lands them on a figure standing in the shadows next to a window, the light from the moon giving her a clear view of his skull mask and noticing, he was staring right back at her.

They lock eyes in silence for ten seconds, until he averts his eyes outside the window for a second and then slowly making his way towards her. His rifle gripped in both hands, and noticing then, he was only in a dark long sleeved shirt.

“How you feelin?” His deep and hoarse voice matched the look in his blue eyes as he hovered over her, eyes scanning her frame head to toe,

(Y/n) thanked god for the darkness, heat crept up on her cheeks from the way he stared at her. She was even more thankful when words easily slipped from her mouth.

“Hurting. But nothing I can’t handle,” She grunts as she slowly starts sitting upright on the couch,

Right away Ghost was by her side, giving her a hand by gripping onto her shoulder and carefully helping her up.

“Didn’t want me havin’ all the fun I see,” He heartfelt jokes as he goes ahead and walks towards the window once again,

A scoff leaves her lips with a roll of her eyes. She thought quite the opposite.

“How long have I been out?”

Ghost looks down at his watch and then back out towards the window, “Two hours,”

Jesus. She thought to herself. She’s been passed out for two hours, risking both their lives and their location. “We should start moving then, we need to get the fuck outta here,”

“Negative. It’s bucketing down out there and you need rest,”

“I’m fine, Ghost. We need to move,” She argues back, hand clutching to her side while her (E/c) eyes watch him,

He doesn’t say anything, just stares at her and remains his ground by the window. (Y/n) would’ve thought he’s giving it a thought, but she thought wrong because he only turns back around with a firm ‘no’ making a scoff leave her lips as she slowly maneuvers her legs onto the ground and leans back against the couch. Eyes scanning her surroundings and thinking, how the fuck weren’t they caught yet? The building looked as if it was hanging on for dear life, maybe that’s why they’ve been in the clear, they wouldn’t dare walk into this death trap. Lucky for them right?

Averting her eyes back to the man, she observes him from her spot. The moonlight illuminating his iconic skull mask, and the small peak of those dangerous, dark, eyes of his. As she stared at his frame she began wondering how she ever got this far with the man without having to ever see his face, not that she’s been wondering what he looked like under the mask, but a speck of it would satisfy her enough. Then it got her thinking of all the times they were constantly at each other’s throats, both on mission and while resting at the base, which honestly brought a small devilish smile to her lips when deep down she enjoyed their back and forth banter of pure ridiculous things. As much as either one hated each other’s presence, they both knew deep down they enjoyed every single argument. Not that they would ever admit to it of course.

Their arguments only grew when Price would purposely team them up for missions, causing their voice to be heard in the earpiece going at it about the most smallest things. Which eventually causes Soap to mute them in annoyance every so often, he was honestly tired of their bitching but he’s only one voice, they wouldn’t listen to him.

Her mind then wonders to how either one reacts when one gets hurt. She doesn’t know if it’s just her but whenever he gets hurt on a mission, it feels as if her whole blood drains from her body whenever she sees him injured. She’s usually the first to patch him up whenever they’re clear, even if it’s just a graze on the arm, she’s there. But when she’s the one with a bullet, she’s noticed how he becomes very… protective? Firm? Quiet? She didn’t know how to explain it other than serious, more than he already is anyways. Like now, he’s quiet than usual, he’s always humming to himself as he thinks of a way out, or always throwing stupid jokes very once and a while, but now, he’s just leaning against the window in silence, blue eyes scanning for any threats.

And honestly. She’s had enough… of him standing. She knows for a fact that he’s been standing in the same spot like a goddamn reaper, and it’s honestly exhausting her.

“Ghost,” She calls out to him, no answer, so she tries again, this time by his rank, “Lieutenant,”

That got him to look over his shoulder. Eyes firm and dark as they meet hers. Definitely not sending an odd feeling down her spine from the way he glanced at her.

“I think we’re in the clear. You can sit down for now,” She tries, leaning her back to rest against the edge of the couch and closes her eyes,

Even with eyes closed, she can still feel his eyes on her. Watching her in dead silence, feeling the way his stare only burns her skin from how intense it felt. Eventually, about a minute or so, she begins hearing his heavy boots walking around the ruined floor. She didn’t want to open her eyes to see what he was doing, so she kept them shut and focused on the sound of his boots growing louder until she feels the couch dip next to her, along with a heavy exhausted sigh.

He had sat next to her.

I mean where else would he sit down? The floor?

Once again, silence surrounds them. Just the sound of rain, thunder, the low creaking of the building, and the slow steady breathing of (Y/n) can be heard. She eventually begins drifting away once again, her mind relaxing and sending her into a dreamless sleep until..

“Knock knock,” His deep baritone voice startles her, causing her eyes to snap open,

Without answering back, all she does is turn her head towards him with an annoyed look in her eyes. Ghost was fiddling with his gun, then turns towards her when he doesn’t receive a reply, the look he gives her with his piercing blues forces her to go along with his terrible, non appropriate dad jokes.

But that’s what makes him Ghost.

Rolling her eyes she replies back, “Who’s there?”

“I.O,”

“I.O who?”

“Me. When are you paying me back?” The small scoff that slipped from her lips was accompanied with a wide smile, he always found a way to crack her,

As much as she loathed it, she couldn’t stop the small chuckle that slips from her. Slightly coughing she clutches her covered wound when pain shoots towards her side.

“Get shot and I will,” She responds with a shake of her head, wide smile still plastered on her face,

A deep, amused, slightly muffled chuckle slips from the man’s mouth. Ringing beautifully in her ears, she can’t remember the last time she’s ever heard him laugh or even crack a smile, obviously, so the little gesture for sure brought a warm feeling across her chest.

Another wave of silence settles in between them for a few seconds, until he’s speaking once again. Bright blue eyes staring straight into her own (E/c) orbs.

“How you holdin up, really?” (Y/n) remains holding his gaze, feeling hypnotized by his eyes that she suddenly shares the truth about how she really felt,

Not the whole truth, but some of it.

“You should’ve left me,” She softly says, watching the way he slightly squints his eyes at her before looking away with a heavy sigh, then adds, “You should leave,”

“Don’t be daft,” Is all he says, eyes watching the window to his left, “I’m not leavin,”

(Y/n) rolls her eyes at his stubbornness. Why can’t he understand that all she wants is to save his life? Why does he have to be so fucking hard headed?

“I’m only slowing you down,” She pushes again, not noticing the way he shuts his eyes from annoyance and frustration,

“Sergeant,”

“If you leave now you’ll be able to call Soap, let him know your location and get help,”

“Nova,” He warns,

“Save yourself!”

“For fuck sakes (Y/n)! I’m not leaving you!” He finally averts his dark eyes towards her that were laced with rage, annoyance and firmness,

That familiar tension begins rising between them as they glare at one another. Neither one of them wanting to back down.

“You can nag all you want. You’re fuckin stuck with me,” He firmly points out, eyes never leaving hers,

She didn’t know what it was, but the feeling that was building in her chest was becoming too strong to push aside. It was an urge. An urge to launch at him, to grab ahold of him, shake him, slap some sense into him, to just.. touch him. She honestly didn’t know how to explain it nor she didn’t know how to understand it, but what she did understand was how much she craved this man right about now. It was the same urge she’s felt with every argument she’s had with him, she wouldn’t think much of it, until now. It was just too strong to ignore it.

Which is also the reason why her next words shock the shit out of her and causes her blood to grow cold from the sudden question that slips from her mouth after a minute of silence.

“Can I kiss you?” It was a shocking surprise for both of them, causing both their eyes to grow wide at the question,

(Y/n) because of shock and horror. Ghost because of pure utter shock, he was definitely not expecting that to come out of her mouth. He doesn’t respond, just feels the way his breath hitches in his throat the same time his body goes rigid. Hard like stone.

When she knows he won’t stand up and walk away, she slowly and hesitantly reaches a hand towards his mask. Dark eyes watch her slim fingers with caution, as if her fingers were sharpened knives itching to cut his flesh, then let’s out a shuttered sigh through his nose when he feels her small, but skillful, fingers tugging slowly at the hem of his balaclava. His eyes were on her the whole time she slowly rises the mask, then catching the small little exhale slipping out her mouth when she finally gets a view of his plumped pink lips, light scruff covering the sides of his jaw as she continues to rise the mask.

Knowing her boundaries, she leaves the mask just under his nose.

Her (E/c) eyes avert from inviting lips towards his own piercing blue orbs, silently questioning him if this was okay, if it was crossing a line, if it was okay to continue or if he wanted to stop. Little did she know he was burning on the inside for her touch. So many questions were written in her eyes, but before she can actually ask him anything, Ghost licks his lips before smoothly making the first move. Making her breath hitch when she suddenly feels his lips on her own, getting a strong taste of salted lips, dirt, and oil, although, she reacts back rather quickly to the kiss. One of her hands gently cup the side of his face while the other rests heavily against his thigh, even through his jeans, her touch burned his skin. She just had that effect on him.

After the second or third kiss, Ghost slightly pulls away to stare into her eyes, his own orbs searching for any regrets, discomfort, when he doesn’t find any he dives back towards her lips more fiercely. With much more passion, a little rough, but gentle and caring at the same time. Causing the kiss to quickly get heated the moment he slips his warm tongue into her mouth, earning a small whimper from her at the affection. Definitely igniting his arousal even more.

Next thing she knows, she’s gently being pushed down against the cushions with Ghost hovering over her, lips not once parting from each other.

A small groan that sounded more like a whimper shutters in between their lips when Ghost accidentally knocks his hips against hers, already feeling the outline of his harden member rub against her core through his jeans. He continues with his brutal teasing, thrusts becoming more firmer each time he rubs against her clothed core until she’s eventually a panting mess and begging him for more. She felt as if her body was on fire, her skin heating up like a goddamn sauna, even though it was nearly fifty degrees outside with rain pouring down on the roof, she felt too suffocated.

Not wasting another minute he lets his hands travel down her body until they land on her belt. Once unbuckled, he quickly slides her cargo jeans down her legs, lips still not leaving hers, even when a deep, choked groan slips from her bruised lips when he pushes her panties aside and slowly presses his rough fingers against her clit, gathering her wetness before diving two long, thick fingers inside of her. She’s not even sure when he removed his gloves, but she could careless at this point.

“Oh.. ffuck,” She harshly whispers, hot breath fanning over his mouth as he immediately finds his target, twisting and curling his fingers he brushes against that one spot,

A static feeling buzzes through her core all the way up to her stomach before dissolving into a cold shiver towards her shoulders as he continues to torture her g-spot. The sound of her wetness can be heard throughout the ruined apartment as he picks up his speed, her breath coming out in quick puffs with each thrust of his thick fingers. A hand was gripping onto the back of his neck, nails leaving imprints of small moon shapes against his skin as his speed only seems to increase while her other hand held onto his wide shoulder. Fingers curling onto his shirt.

“G-Ghost,” She moans his name as her peak was quickly rising, quickly tilting towards the edge,

But just before she can feel that euphoric feeling, she feels him withdrawing his fingers, earning a desperate sigh from her. Her eyes immediately snap open, confusion settling in her eyes from the sudden action, but before she can even ask she sees him shrugging off his vest before finally unbuckling his belt, awhile still being in between her legs. She then feels the way her mouth goes completely dry, as if a sudden sandstorm invaded her mouth, when she watches him shove his jeans down with one hand while the other reaches inside, pulling out his leaking member.

The head an angry shade of red, precum drooling from the tip with each slow stroke he makes. With the help of the moon light shining through the window, she can tell he was thick, feeling the way nervousness settles at the bottom of her stomach the longer she watches his hand slowly stroke his aching member, but boy did that also heightened her arousal. Quickly settling back in between her legs, Ghost hovers over her, the tip of his dick slightly rubbing against her covered mound as he makes himself comfortable, considering he left her jeans pooled at her ankles and had to maneuver himself in between her legs by lifting and crouching underneath. Taking off her boots and jeans completely seemed like a hassle, a risk he wasn’t willing to take, them doing this was already a risk, anything and anyone can ambush them at anytime, but if they were both being completely honest, that was the least of their worries. For now.

“You sure?” He asks for the first time since everything began, hot breath fanning against her lips as he achingly waits for confirmation,

Which he gets by her quickly nodding her head and reaches a hand to wrap around his member, earning a choked grunt from the man above when she strokes once, twice, before finally guiding him where she yearned him the most. With half lidded eyes he does his best to watch her reaction as he slowly sinks his girth into her heat. Letting her feel inch by inch. Her eyes tightly shut, mouth slightly open while small grunts, moans and whimpers breathlessly fall out, but with the feeling over powering him and the way she curses underneath her breath, he isn’t able to hold his gaze for long.

“F-Fucking hell,” Ghost breathlessly groans against her lips as her tight walls clamp around him,

The one hand he had holding her hips with a careful grip, suddenly lands heavily besides her head as he can no longer support his weight from the way her tightness kept sucking him inside. The air that was once in his lungs had been punched from him as the tightness only made it harder for him to hold back. They breathlessly pant against one another’s lips as he continues to push his hips, until a small yelp rips from her throat when Ghost fully sheaths himself in her heat with one full thrust. Pushing the rest of his member inside of her aching walls.

(Y/n’s) eyes were closed shut as she focused on subsiding the little pain and the feeling of being completely full after what seemed like months. Just because she’s the only woman on the crew doesn’t mean she goes around looking for any man, even if she were the type to just mess around with any guy that paid her any mind just to lose some steam, she never had the time to do so. It was always work with her, if she wasn’t working she was in a meeting, if it wasn’t a meeting, she was getting ready for the next mission, if not she was working out or at the shooting range or simply just tuning her guns. So of course it had been a while since she’s been sexually active.

After what seemed like a minute or so in getting accustomed to his length and focusing on her breathing, she slowly opens her eyes, only for them to catch the moment when Ghost pulls off the remaining of his mask, revealing his flushed, scruff face to her. Dirty blonde locks rested on top of his head, beautifully light skin with a couple small scars claiming their spots on his face, and those eyes. Those eyes that have always seemed dark underneath that mask are now written with a different emotion. Despite the black paint covering those eyes, it wasn’t the cold, brutal Ghost staring down at her, no, it was only Simon Riley staring down at her with those bright blue orbs of his. It was also the look of, uncertainty, hesitation in his eyes that brought out Simon, he was observing her reaction now that she’s seen his face, he was anxiously waiting for her to say anything, but what made another breathless shutter slip from his mouth was the feeling of her small hand cradling the side of his jaw. Her warm, slim fingers rested against his cheek as a small welcoming smile spreads on her face, causing the corner of his lips to tug into a small smirk the same time her fingers slowly make their way at the back of his neck and threading them with his short locks at the base of his neck before slowly bringing his face down until their lips are once again molding with each other.

While lavishing each other’s lips, Ghost—Simon slowly withdraws his hips before thrusting back into her heat with a rough snap, bringing a gasp from her lips. Hot breath fanning against his mouth as he continues with his slow but rough pace. Feeling the way her walls constrict around him only ignites the burning flame in his stomach, causing his pace to quicken, his thrusts becoming much more firmer. Earning breathless moans and grunts to slip from their throats with each snap of his hips.

Despite the lingering pain she felt on her side from the rough movements, she could honestly careless about it, the feeling that quickly starts to build and form into a tight knot in her core helps her push aside the aching on her side. Especially when he repositions his hips a certain angle, hitting that spot in a delicious way that has her seeing stars, and also from the way he breathlessly groans against her ear with each thrust he sends her.

“Simon,” She breathlessly moans his name, eyes tightly shut, one hand gripping onto his wide shoulders while the other held tightly on to the hairs at the base of his neck,

The way she sings his name, his real name, every so often and tugs firmly at his now damped locks, only quickens his pace. Hips thrusting faster and deeper, causing her body to move with each snap, along with the beaten couch. Knowing she’s close to the edge by her constantly moaning his name and feeling her walls clench, Ghost slips a hand underneath her right leg and let’s it slightly dangle from his arm, which not only allows him a little more space to move but also grants him to drive deeper into her womb. Earning another beautiful sound to slip from her parted lips as he doesn’t halt his movements from the new position, instead he only moves his hips with much more force.

“Oh sh-shit!” She cries out loud at the rougher pace, moving the hand that rested heavily on his shoulder to the side of his sweaty neck,

After what seemed like the tenth snap of his hips she couldn’t help the way her nails rake against his skin, leaving painful red marks on his neck, earning a deep groan from the man above who only inflicts the same small pain on her by sinking his teeth on the side of her neck.

“Si-..Sim-… oh ffuck,” Her words immediately falter as a blissful wave of electricity rushes through her, causing her eyes to shut tightly and only dig her nails deeper into his skin as her orgasm slams through her like an anchor reaching the bottom of the ocean,

Mouth agape, eyes tightly shut, fingers gripping onto his hair at the base of his neck, she rides out her orgasm. Wave after wave crashes through her. The feeling was like no other, stronger than anything she’s felt, definitely strong enough to cause her body to start shaking from the intense orgasm that rushes through her, making her feel slightly light headed and making everything around her to sound muffled in her ears. As if that wasn’t enough, he continues to thrust into her, fucking her through her orgasm, fucking her into oblivion, fucking her till she became overstimulated, yet even then, he still doesn’t stop. Only quickens his pace, slamming his hips into her, hands leaving marks on her skin from how hard he gripped her as his own peak starts to rise.

Which didn’t take long. From the way her fingers gripped tightly on his hair, nails raking against his skin, moans, whimpers leaving her lips, and her walls tightening against him had him tilting towards the edge. A couple thrusts later, his hips begin stuttering, his pace slowing down as he was nearing the end. With one final thrust he quickly pulls out just as his seed begins spurting out of him, painting the outside of her folds.

“Fuck!” He groans deeply against her neck as his own orgasm over powers him, leaving his body stiff as a rock as he rides it out,

A soft moan rumbles in her throat as she feels his warmth hitting her core, feeling the way it slides down her folds and most likely onto the beaten couch. Seconds passed as he continued to hover over her, large hands keeping him upright as he gathers his breathing, face buried on the side of her neck while warm breaths fan her sweaty skin. Once the high begins subsiding, he gently places feathery kisses against her neck, definitely feeling the way she shivers from this and only continues in moving his lips upwards; underneath her jaw, her cheek, the corner of her lips before hovering just above them. Noses rubbing together he looks into her eyes, no words, just stares into her (E/c) orbs and hopes whatever he wanted to tell her was readable through his own half-lidded eyes.

She must’ve because just as he closes the little gap between them, he catches the way the corner of her lips tilt upwards, indicating that she knew exactly what he meant through his eyes. The softly mold their lips together, pouring every emotion into it, tongues gently tangling with one another, tracing the outline of each other’s mouths. It was just untold emotions that were being expressed by their mouths, and they cherished every ounce of it.

“Have I paid you back yet?” She questions after breaking the kiss, feeling the way her lips shift upwards against his own,

Blue yes scan her face. Observing her features, the small scar on her upper left eyebrow from a mission, her (E/c) eyes that he has grown to love, another scar on her bottom lip from where an old piercing had been looped around back in her teenage days and finally her smile. Oh how he had fell for her smile, it was the one thing that let him know that she was good, happy, excited, herself. He lived for her smile, loved the way it brought warmth to his chest, loved the way it made his stomach flutter, and it was also at that moment that he knew he had fallen in love with you. Did it scare him? Absolutely. Would he admit it to you? Yes, just not right away. He was never good at confessions, but he did know how to express them towards the right people, and she was definitely one of them.

A small smirk tugs on the soldiers lips, blue eyes softening the longer her stares at her, “Believe you still have a debt to pay once we’re outta here,”

A cheeky smile spreads on her face at his words, obviously liking that idea. After a second or two, his smirk fades away as he slowly bends down to connect their lips once again. She hums into the kiss and only lets her fingers cradle the back of his neck, gently massaging the muscle as they continue to pour their love into the kiss. Eventually, about another 5 or possibly 10 minutes of lazily kissing one another, they part away. Once making sure her wound hadn’t been damaged even more, they silently fix their clothes to get ready for their extraction. Once their vests are safely clipped on their torso, gun safely tucked its holster, they stand by the window as Simon reaches for the button on his radio. Mask still off and gripped with the other hand.

“All stations this is Ghost in the blind how copy?” He gruffly says into his mic, waiting patiently for a response,

Just as (Y/n) places her earpiece in place she hears the most beautiful Scottish accent ringing in her ear, bringing a wide smile on her face, “Lt? Nice to hear you’re voice again,”

“Can’t say the same,” A small smirk tugs on his lips as he glances at (Y/n), causing a soft chuckle to escape from her as she lightly punches his shoulder,

“(Y/n) with you?” The sergeant asks, making her chest warm up from his concern,

“Affirmative,” Simon response firmly, definitely ignoring the way jealousy rises in his chest from the way Soap calls her by her first name and not by her callsign,

A relieved sigh is heard through their comms along with, “Glad to know you’re still kickin’ and breathin’ Nova,”

Still smiling she clicks the button by her shoulder, “Can’t get rid of me that easy big guy who else will keep you out of trouble?”

A deep chuckle vibrates in her ear, “Definitely would miss my partner in crime,”

“I’ve send you our location Soap, give us an estimate on your status,” Simon interrupts their conversation with a crabby tone,

Silence is heard on their line for a couple minutes before Soap is filling their ears once again, “About 15 minutes Lt,”

“Copy,”

A relieved sigh leaves (Y/n’s) mouth, she couldn’t wait to head back to base, see medical, get some grub, shower and fall face first on her bed. What would make it even better if another body accompanied her in said bed, but she knew she wouldn’t have to ask, he’d follow her without question.

“Let’s go home,” She tells him with a warm smile,

Simon looks down at her, chest fluttering and lips slightly shifting upwards as he scans her smile. Switching his mask to his left hand, he lets his right hand softly cradle the side of her cheek before closing the little distance and gently latching their lips together. He pecks her lips once, twice, thrice before moving his lips towards her forehead and letting it linger there for a good five seconds before parting away to glance into her eyes.

“Stay close,”

Her hand softly wraps around his wrist, smile tugging on her lips, “Always,”

Simons lips slightly lift, wishing he can enjoy this moment longer but they both had to get going, dropping his hand from her face he quietly slips on his mask and tucks it in his jacket. Once they were set he grabs ahold of the knob and turns towards her, he sends her a nod which she returns.

“Let’s go,” He states, opening the door and checking his surroundings with his rifle in the air,

Once cleared he motions for her to follow, which she does, right on his heels, never falling behind. Even after Soap had found them and they both safely climbed on board, they never parted away, well at least Simon didn’t. He could have sat across from her, stood next to Soap to fill him in about how fucked up the mission went, but instead, he sat right next to her. A gloved skeleton hand fitting itself with her own, fingers tangling with each other and remaining that way throughout the whole ride back to base. Neither of them caring about who can see, but definitely not being able to hide the way a smile creeps on their face— well Simon was a able to— but not (Y/n) when Soap sends them a childlike smirk when he catches their hands at some point.

They didn’t know it, but he was smirking for two reasons. 1.) He was glad they had finally worked their shit out and finally come to their goddamn senses. And 2.) He had just won 60 bucks fair and square from both Gaz and Alejandro.

Of course neither of them needed to know about the bet that was placed on them, but like always, Simon found out. After witnessing Gaz and Alejandro slide some cash towards a smirking Johnny, he waited for the child to turn around, causing him to collide with his stiff of a body before smacking him upside down on the head, causing a burst of laughter to erupt from both Gaz and Alejandro as the Lieutenant walks away, leaving a pouting Johnny as he massages the back of his head. What neither of them saw, because of the mask, neither of them saw the way a huge grin was plastered on Simons face as he walked away, obviously satisfied and for once extremely happy. The happiness in his chest only grew once his eyes landed on (Y/n) coming out of medical, who was smiling back at him.

He really was home.

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-Hopefully y’all enjoyed this rather long Fic! I’ve actually spent way too much time on this when I should be spending the same amount of time on my Research Paper that’s due this week 🥲

-Anyways, Thank You Guys for your Constant Support! Love Y’all!!

-Also, I’ve already collaborated with an amazing artist for my next Ghost Fic!! So stay tuned for that!! Make Sure to Turn On Post Notifications!! 🔔 For the Updates!!

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#modern warfare 2 #MW2 #call of duty mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #Smut

[rebelwrites]

Three: He Was Checking You Out

Charles Leclerc x Nova Teller (OC)

Till The Wheels Fall Off Masterlist

Small town meets the fast lane. What happens when two souls meet? Will it end in happiness or will they both crash and burn?

As always reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated ❤️ if you want tagging in future parts let me know ❤️

“Auntie Nova,” Elenor shouted over the sound of the shower.

“What’s up princess?” I smiled, poking my head around the shower curtain, making sure my body was covered.

“Poppy, called me your name today,” she whispered with an air of sadness in her voice. She was too young to fully understand Pops’ health concerns, but she knew something was wrong with him, there was no way we could hide that from anyone.

Retreating behind the shower curtain I ran my hands over my face. How the fuck was I meant to explain to her that her Poppy’s memory was getting worse? I took a deep breath before speaking. “Poppy just got confused, baby, he was watching the race and when I was your age, I used to sit on his knee watching with him.”

“Okay,” she hummed, slowly nodding her head as she chewed the inside of her mouth. I could tell by her reaction it was not the response she was seeking but I let out a small sigh of relief when she asked no more questions on the subject. For now, I had dodged a bullet, but I needed to warn Jax that at some point we needed to try to find a way to explain everything to Elenor that wouldn’t scare her. She loved her Poppy to bits and the last thing we wanted to do was cause her to worry.

“Have you thought about what you want to wear tonight?” I asked, quickly changing the subject as I shut the water off. Reaching my arm out of the shower I fumbled until I found the towel.

“My Ferrari hoodie,” she giggled, making me smile. I had definitely taught her well when it came to which team to support.

“Good choice, baby,” I grinned to myself as I wrapped the towel around my body. I was so grateful that we made sure the bar had an apartment upstairs and that we all kept a spare change of clothes here. “Has Uncle Bobby made you anything to eat?”

“He made my favorite.” She beamed as I pulled back the shower curtain, stepping out over the edge of the bath. I didn’t need to ask her what she had, her go to was always chicken nuggets and curly fries. It was honestly quite scary how alike Elenor was to not only Jax but to myself as well, especially since I had no blood relation to either of them.

Once we were both back in the small bedroom I quickly dried myself and got dressed. The outfit I had was simple: a ribbed light gray cropped vest top, black high waisted skinny jeans, my oversized long gray cardigan and finishing the outfit off with my black boots. It was the perfect outfit for relieving Chibs for the rest of the night whilst maintaining that edgy look I preferred whilst working at the bar.

Staring at my reflection I let out a small breath, my whole life I had been battling with the demons. It had been a long road, but I was slowly loving the body I was in but some days the voices grew louder making them hard to ignore. Taking one final glance at my appearance I made sure I was satisfied, I had done my makeup in record time but decided to leave my hair as it was because drying it was more effort than I wanted to spare right now. Feeling Elenor take my hand, I tore my gaze from the mirror smiling down at my niece. “Come on then, trouble.” I hummed. “Let’s go find your Dad.”

The two of us ran down the stairs, quickly reaching the small hallway that ran through the entire building, at the end was the main bar area, on the right side was mine and Jax’s shared office which was off limits to everyone and then the kitchen and storage area were towards the back.

Elenor instantly made her way over to Jax who was sitting with some guys from the MC, whilst I dipped in the kitchen to check on Bobby.

“There's my favorite cook,” I hummed, entering the kitchen. “How’s it been tonight?” I asked, leaning against the stainless steel countertop, picking at the batch of curly fries that had just come out of the oven.

“Not too bad, it’s been pretty steady, to be honest,” Bobby nodded, “it’s nice that it’s just the usuals. Lord help me when the summer tourists finally hit. Might have to drag a prospect or two in to help.”

“Whatever you need, you know you’ve got it. All you need to do is say the words,” I smiled, as he passed me a bowl of chicken nuggets, cocking my brow at him he just smirked.

“You won’t eat otherwise, and picking at the fries doesn’t count either,” he said, giving me a knowing look. Leaning over I pressed a kiss against his cheek before pushing myself off the counter to go relieve Chibs from behind the bar.

As I entered the main room, chicken nuggets in hand, I took a moment to scan the area; it was still pretty early in the evening so the place was somewhat quiet, however I knew things would change once the lads finished work piling in the bar. But it was something I loved, this bar was the heart of the town.

As soon as I was behind the counter I abandoned my chicken nuggets on the side before placing a clean mug under the spout of the coffee machine, pressing the green button on the front of the appliance to make Pops a fresh brew. He rarely drank alcohol now, so we always made sure we had a good stock of fresh coffee grounds and soft drinks, not only for him but for Elenor, too.

Looking up from the machine, my heart melted as I watched Jax with his daughter. Elenor brought out a completely different side to him. When he was with her he became softer, watched his language and didn’t drink too much. Initially it was weird seeing Jax completely change, but it always made me smile. She definitely made him a better man.

My mind was spinning with what Elenor had revealed to me upstairs, my worries were getting worse when it came to Pops’ health. Now he was calling Elenor by my name. I had a strong feeling things were only going to get worse. I needed to speak to him; I needed to understand what was going on with him right now even if he wasn’t going to make any sense. Looking over to the booth that Pops was sitting in I saw a bright smile on his face, one I hadn’t seen for a couple of days, it always warmed my heart. But the main thing I noticed was he wasn’t sitting alone, there were two people sitting with him, both with their backs to the bar.

Taking a deep breath, I left them to it not wanting to disrupt the conversation that was causing Pops to be this ecstatic.

“He looks happy,” Chibs whispered, placing his hand on my shoulder.

“Yeah, he does. So anything I should know?” I asked, changing the subject, glancing at Chibs over my shoulder.

“Nope, you are all good to take over, lass,” Chibs winked, leaning against the bar, pulling the beer bottle to his lips. He was hiding something from me, the smirk on his face gave that away, in fact I knew when all the club members were keeping things from me, one of the numerous benefits of being brought up around the MC. Raising my brow at him, he just shook his head quickly changing the conversation. “Tig isn’t joining us tonight, so it's gonna be a quiet one.”

“Tiggy isn’t gracing us with his presence, has hell frozen over?” I chuckled, as I finished the coffee. “I swear he props the bar up most nights.”

“I think one of his kids is in town for a couple of days,” Chibs shrugged.

“Which one?”

“The crazy one.”

“Again which one?” I chuckled, cocking my brow at my favorite Scotsman.

When it came to Tig and his girls we all knew it was best not to interfere, letting him do what he needed to do because the last time one of us got involved it got messy.

It didn’t take long for the coffee to be ready but before I had a chance to take it over to Pops, Chibs had already picked the mug up from the counter. “Oh and lass, you never know who might be in the bar tonight,” he smirked, throwing me a wink as he exited the bar making his way through the room to join Pops and whoever was sharing the booth with him.

Shaking off his words I quickly found myself busy tending the bar along with serving food, even though Tig wasn’t gracing us with his presence tonight the place still had a buzz about it. Scanning the room I was greeted with the familiar faces of people I grew up with, most nights it was filled with members of the MC. This was practically our home, if you couldn’t find one of the guys around town, you knew they would be here.

More of the locals joined us when we hosted themed nights, quiz and karaoke evenings were definitely the most popular. I loved it when this place was packed, the sounds of everyone talking, laughing and having a good time with their friends and family.

It also made the hours pass quickly.

However, no matter what I did I couldn’t shake the feeling of worry, I needed to speak to Jax about Pops. We needed to sit down and work out what we were going to tell Elenor but we needed to figure it out sooner rather than later.

Eventually things quietened down, the mad rush of everyone finishing work had passed, giving me a chance to catch my breath, looking over to where Pops was sitting, noticing that his guests had left. Quickly I grabbed the two mugs of fresh coffee before making my way over the booth, sliding into the cherry red leather, automatically resting my head on his shoulder.

“How was your evening?” I asked, letting the familiar smell of coffee and aftershave wash over me.

“Pretty amazing, my sweet Nova,” Pops beamed. Pulling away from him I looked up noticing how wide his smile was, he had that sparkle back in his eyes. “I spent the whole evening talking to Charles Leclerc and Pierre Gasly.”

I had just taken a large sip of coffee as he spoke, his words caught me off guard causing me to choke on the caffeinated liquid.

The realization finally hit me like a ton of bricks, he had completely lost his mind.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to ignore the feeling of my stomach twisting into a tight knot. I knew there was no way he had spent the evening talking to two drivers that he had spent two hours watching on the TV.

“Of course you did Pops,” I mumbled, trying to mask my worry with a strangled laugh. “Let me go find Jax, he is your ride home tonight.”

Pushing myself to my feet I scurried back behind the bar, bouncing on the balls of my feet whilst I waited for Jax to finish conversation with Chibs. I found myself holding back tears as I tried to calm myself down. I was normally pretty good at holding it together and not showing any emotion to the outside world but right now I was failing.

Suddenly Jax was now standing in front of me, wrapping his arms around me providing a sense of comfort. Yes, me and Jax fought like biological siblings but when it came down to it I knew I could count on him when I felt weak and needed someone to be strong for me for once.

“Where’s your head at Squirt?” Jax hummed, guiding me from behind the bar and out onto the patio terrace.

“Can you take Pops home please?” I sniffled, pulling away from him, leaning against the wall. Automatically I ran my hands over my face before speaking again, Jax extended his hand holding out a smoke which I gratefully took. “I’m worried, Pops is getting worse. Tonight he told me he spent the evening talking to Leclerc and Gasly.”

“As in Charles Leclerc and Pierre Gasly?” Jax mocked, cocking his brow at me. There was something about the look on his face, I couldn't quite place. Normally I was pretty good at reading my brother but right now I was struggling.

“Yuup,” I hummed, popping the ‘p’, ignoring his playful tone. Right now wasn’t the time for him to be joking. “My head is spinning right now, he is getting worse. I don’t know if I have time to focus on Pops, the bar, and the cafe. I feel like I am drowning. I think we need to look at getting outside help.”

The moment the words left my lips I felt the bile rise in my throat. I hated myself for even saying them. Teller’s never quit on family, but saying those words made me feel like I was giving up on him, when in reality I was just struggling to keep my head above water. The look on Jax’s face changed, this look was something I knew all too well, it was a look that told me he felt guilty.

“Nova,” Jax breathed, draping his arm around my shoulder, pressing a kiss against my temple. “You deserve a break more than any of us. I know the last couple of weeks, hell even the past year with the custody hearings, I haven’t been around much and I am so fucking sorry,” his voice was quiet as he spoke. “I will take Pops home, don’t worry about anything else but the bar tonight. Tomorrow we will sit down and work out what we need to do to help him.”

Taking a deep breath, I silently nodded at Jax. “I just hope tomorrow is a better day,” I whispered.

“It will be, Squirt,” Jax hummed, “think positive. We are in this together, till the wheels fall off, remember.”

Hours had passed, the work was steady which I was grateful for however I desperately needed sleep. Over the last month I had been opening up the cafe followed by a closing shift at the bar. Both businesses were short staffed due to people taking vacation time and illness, meaning I had to spread myself thin to make sure both establishments kept bringing in income for the club. I could have asked for help getting some of the prospects in to take some of the pressure off but the truth was I didn’t trust them. They hadn’t been patched yet and a lot of them still had to prove their loyalty to the club.

The moment I had put the lock on the main doors of the bar I let out a huge sigh of relief that was until I looked around the bar seeing the glasses scattered across the tables. The prospects that had been chosen to help around the bar really hadn’t pulled their weight this evening, confirming my decision not to ask for any help. I was definitely going to be having words with Jax about it.

Glancing at the time I groaned knowing that by the time I had finished the clean up it would be well past 2am, so once I had gotten to bed I would only end up having a couple of hours sleep before I had to be up to get the cafe ready for opening.

It made me wonder if it was even worth going to sleep tonight.

“Nova, go home,” Bobby said, appearing from the direction of the kitchen. He already had the large black plastic tub that we used for collecting the glasses tucked under his arms. “I’ve got this, you go get yourself in bed, sweetheart. The last thing we need is you collapsing from exhaustion.”

“You sure?” I asked, trying to hide the yarn that escaped from my lips.

“Absolutely,” he said, flashing me a soft smile.

Right now I was so grateful, I hated abandoning ship but I knew I could never win this fight with Bobby. He was someone that once he had set his mind on something you couldn’t do anything about it.

It didn’t take me long to round my things up, not when it comprised my phone, smokes, car keys and lighter. Slipping everything into my pockets I strolled over to Bobby giving him a hug.

As I was making my way out of the bar Bobby started speaking again. “I’m proud of you sweetheart, you acted better than we all expected tonight.”

“What are you on about?” I laughed, cocking my eyebrow at him in confusion.

“We were graced with the presence of your favorite Formula One driver tonight,” he said with a large smirk firmly planted on his face.

Great first Pops and now Bobby, was everyone losing their mind in this town?

I had two options: play along with it or call him out on him going crazy. After weighing up my options I decided to go along with this crazy story.

“I know right! I can’t believe they chose our small town, let alone our bar,” I squealed over dramatically whilst rolling my eyes. “Maybe they will come back tomorrow, we will fall madly in love before running off into the sunset together!”

“Kiddo with how the boy was checking you out, it wouldn’t surprise me if he became a regular,” Bobby replied, with a large smirk on his face.

“You’ve been reading Elenor too many stories, old man,” I scoffed, once again rolling my eyes at him. There was no way on this earth that two talented formula one drivers were in the bar let alone checking me out. “Maybe I need to send you with Pops to the memory clinic.”

“Sweetheart, he definitely was, I swear Jax was moments away from ripping his throat out with the way Leclerc was running his eyes over your body,” he chuckled, a large smirk gracing his face as he continued to collect glasses.

“Goodnight, you crazy old man, I will text you the details of Pops’ next appointment,” I hollered over my shoulder, making my way to the back exit.

For what felt like the millionth time this evening my mind was spinning.

Was it fuck with Nova day or something?

Clambering in the driver's seat of my old truck I rested my forehead against the steering wheel, I desperately needed sleep. I knew I would be fine in the morning and this would just be a bad dream.

The drive home went by in a blur, a small smile appeared on my face as I noticed Jax had left the porch light on for me. No matter how many times he did this it always warmed my heart.

All I wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep, but there was something playing on my mind. I needed to know if Pops and Bobby were telling the truth because if they were I had made a complete fool of myself from the moment me and Jax got back from dirt biking. I just prayed that if he was in the bar, he wasn’t there when I was reciting Crofty’s commentary from Monza. Because if he was then I could never show my face in the bar again.

@withmyteeth @chibsytelford @stillbreathin @danzer8705 @keyweegirlie @celestialams @dragon-of-winterfell @ohthemisssery @a-distantdreamer @sgkophie @angywritesstuff @enchantedbytomandhenry @scribbuluswrites @dangerouspursepeachbear @buendiabebeta @ferrarifwendvale @theplobnrgone @charlesleclercje @queenslife @panicforspec @inesramoss30 @justme2042 @liv67 @derpinathebrave @clcspeonies @pleasantducktimetravel @raaaaabzzz @mehrmonga @sbgal @fangirl-lb @pitconfirmbutton @oslokij @tall-tanned-tattoo @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @pumpkin-spice-hate @talicat713 @band--psycho @little-diable @i-love-scott-mccall @fourthwallhateclub @theysayitscrazy @rosieposie0624 @choochoo284 @meteora-fc @beeroses @darklydeliciousdesires @the-jer-bear @extraneousred @youflickedtooharddamnit @babypink224221

#charles leclerc #Charles Leclerc x oc #Charles Leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #sons of anarchy #jax teller #jax teller x reader #jax teller imagine #Jax teller x sister reader

[charliemwrites]

WHOOO!!! All the anons thirsting over capt daddy made me go back and reread specgru!reader (again) bc I needed QUENCHED! and I'm back on my hating 141 hrs. They deserve to feel shitty for how they treated reader, and they deserve to know she's getting d n p on the regular, just how she deserves!!!! Honestly I think ppl have been underselling just how much of a betrayal reader experienced!! Like, holy shit, 141 was supposed to be her team. She was supposed to be able to trust them and know they had her back even in a fuck up, bc she would do the same for them. Ppl are human, and make mistakes. Sometimes they're costly AF, and that's life. But she fucks up ONCE and gets abandoned in a hospital (for an indeterminate amount of time??????? With no company or care???) And then gets told to fuck off by her CAPTAIN?? And ppl want redemption for any of the 141 boys? No, they threw her out. They dumped her like last week's trash. They do not get to act like she deserves better now, because she deserved better when she nearly died. Fuck out of here. I can't wait until there's a genuine confrontation, where reader voices this (if that's the direction it's going, but reader also does not have to explain her pain to the ppl that hurt her. She does not owe them that.) Or where they realize the extent of their f up. We saw a little of how bad they fucked her over, and then realizing it, w the DNR order, but I really don't think they understand. I want them to hurt so bad (evil). Anyway, I'm down bad for captain daddy and I hope there are many more instances of nova and reader being the cutest in the whole entire world because they DESERVE IT

Hi!!!! Thank you so much!!! I think it wouldn’t have been so bad if they’d yelled at reader or she was in some kind of disciplinary trouble. But the fact that they just…. Started treating her like a stranger. That was what hurt the most, I think. All that work and effort she put into them, all the relationships she built with them - it was like they disappeared in all the ways that mattered.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

North To The Future [Chapter 7: King Of Wishful Thinking]

The year is 1999. You are just beginning your veterinary practice in Juneau, Alaska. Aegon is a mysterious, troubled newcomer to town. You kind of hate him. You are also kind of obsessed with him. Falling for him might legitimately ruin your life…but can you help it? Oh, and there’s a serial killer on the loose known only as the Ice Fisher.

Chapter warnings: Language, alcoholism, addiction, murder, discussions of sex, outdoor excursions, Trent being the Hulk, Sunfyre sightings, emotional outbursts, a late-night phone call, a wild traumatic backstory appears! Also I have bronchitis and wrote this while very heavily medicated, in my Aegon Era you could say.

Word count: 6.7k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: ​​​@elsolario​ @meadowofsinfulthoughts​ @ladylannisterxo​ @doingfondue​ @tclegane​ @quartzs-posts​ @liathelioness​ @aemcndtargaryen​ @thelittleswanao3​ @burningcoffeetimetravel​ @b1gb3anz​ @hinata7346​ @poohxlove​ @borikenlove​ @myspotofcraziness​ @travelingmypassion​ @graykageyama​ @skythighs​ @lauraneedstochill​ @darlingimafangirl​ @charenlie​ @thewew​ @eddies-bat-tattoos​ @minttea07​ @joliettes​ @trifoliumviridi​ @bornbetter​ @flowerpotmage​ @thewitch-lives​ 

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When you return from helping to deliver a calf on Mr. Campbell’s reindeer farm, you find Aegon in the vet clinic lobby. He is squaring up with Jennifer; the heap of twenty-dollar bills he stacks on the counter are crisp and uncrumpled, very much unlike his usual currency. He counts until he gets to $300 and then tucks his thin, tattered wallet into the back pocket of his jeans. He’s wearing half of his hair in a man bun again, along with his long-sleeve shirt that’s striped with black and white: night and stars, ink and snow. He startles when he turns to leave and sees you.

“How did you get that?”

“I told you,” Aegon says. “I sold a kidney. The slicing part was unpleasant, but I feel so much lighter now.”

“No, really.”

He shrugs nonchalantly. He seems mostly sober. “I pawned something.”

“Pawned what?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does.”

“It honestly doesn’t.”

“What do you own that’s worth that much…?” You glance through the window. His green Nova is straddling two spaces in the parking lot, illuminated by dim melancholy streetlights. If it wasn’t the car, what was it? What the hell was it?

Aegon holds his hands open, empty. “You wanted me to pay you back. Now you’re mad that I paid you back. I don’t know how to win with you, Appletini.”

The words themselves are irritated, he should sound irritated; but he just sounds sad. A heavy quilt of silence settles over the lobby. Your gaze is tangled up in his: blue, oceanic, mottled like a bruise. Jen watches from behind the front desk with huge, zooming eyes. She clears her throat to get your attention. Bear mace! she mouths, pointing at your purse.

You shake off your paralysis. “I’m sorry,” you tell Aegon. “Thanks for the money.”

He rubs the back of his neck anxiously. “Do you want to get a drink or something? Maybe talk…about…things…?”

“No. I’m covered in reindeer placenta.”

“Fine.” He blows by you, yanks open the front door, and is gone before you can take it back.

What’s there to talk about? you think, trying to convince yourself that you made the right decision. He’s still with Kimmie, I’m still with Trent, his time in Juneau is still ticking down towards zero. And yet, as his Nova swerves out of the parking lot, you feel an ache in your bones like a fracture.

“You okay?” Jen asks.

“Yeah. Can I get that $300?”

Confused but ever-compliant, Jen hands you the $300 in twenties.

“Do I have any more appointments this afternoon?”

“No, Ms. Flynn just called to reschedule Hyacinth’s yearly checkup.”

Oh yes, Hyacinth the semi-tamed opossum. Not your favorite client. “Perfect. Let’s close up a little early. I need to go home and scrub the blood out of my hair.”

In the midst of the steam and the pounding rainfall of the shower, you turn it over and over again in your mind: What did he pawn? What did he risk losing to pay me back? Reindeer blood, viscous and lifegiving, turns the soap bubbles dark pink as they are sucked down the drain. It’s not until you step out onto the bathmat and catch a glimpse of your reflection in the fogged mirror—of the foamy white flecks of soap still dappling your throat like pearls—that you remember the gold chain necklace Aegon wore to Thanksgiving dinner.

$300? you think doubtfully. A pawn shop will only loan someone a portion of the value of the item they hold as collateral, rarely more than half. Usually much less. Is that chain worth $600, $800, $1,000? Maybe. If it’s real gold. You don’t want to imagine how Aegon ended up with something like that. There’s no honorable answer. You throw on jeans and a chunky royal blue sweater and head out to your Jeep Cherokee.

There is only one pawn shop in Juneau, which makes things easy. You arrive ten minutes before closing time. Sure enough, store owner Mark Morehouse confirms your hypothesis: a peculiar white-haired out-of-towner showed up earlier today, offered a gold chain, received cash in return.

“But I didn’t give him $300,” Mark says. “I gave him $500.”

“$500?!” you exclaim. “You really think that necklace is worth a grand?”

“A couple grand, more likely. Haven’t gotten a proper appraisal yet.”

“Well…” You count every last cent of cash you have in your purse. The cannister of bear mace clatters as you dig through gum wrappers, pens, tissues, strawberry Creme Savers, crinkled receipts. “I can give you $410 now and a solemn vow to settle the balance later. Plus interest, of course.”

Indisputably, it is a breach of pawn shop ethics to let one customer walk out with another’s collateral before they’ve had adequate opportunity to pay back the loan. But Mark grew up with your parents, just like Dale did, and Heather’s parents, and Joyce’s parents, and half of your vet clinic clients, on and on until Juneau feels less like a city than an inescapably embroiled web. Everybody knows everybody…though not well enough to recognize the face of a killer. You explain to Mark that the white-haired out-of-towner is in fact a friend, and one that you are trying to do a favor for. He gives you the gold chain necklace in exchange for your cash and your word. It’s worth a lot around here. Vince and Debbie are good, honest people; surely their daughter must be too.

“Be careful,” Mark calls after you as you depart. “Until they catch that murderer, you shouldn’t be running around town alone after dark. And you definitely shouldn’t be getting too cozy with strangers.”

“Aegon’s not a stranger,” you say, smiling a little as you linger in the doorway. “Not anymore.”

Once you’re back in your Jeep, you turn on the heat and the interior light and inspect the chain more closely. It definitely feels expensive: heavy, flawless, golden links that are smooth like butter when you thread them between your fingers. On the long rectangular clasp, you find this engraved in artful cursive letters:

Happy birthday, dearest Aegon!

You flip the clasp over. There are three more words on the back, accompanied by—however bizarrely—a tiny praying mantis.

Much love, Helaena

“Helaena?” you say to no one as your Jeep idles outside the pawn shop. “Who the fuck is Helaena?!”

You have no right to be jealous, and yet you can feel the dark green poison of it growing into you like ivy: needling through joints, cracking bones, drinking up rust-scarlet marrow. You hate how much you want him. You hate that so many people on this planet carry pieces of him that you will never know. You shift your Jeep into drive and glide through the night towards his apartment building.

You shouldn’t go up there, you tell yourself as you park under a streetlight. He might be busy. He might not be alone. He might be with Kimmie.

But maybe that’s what part of you is hoping for. Maybe you’re looking for a chance to interrupt them, to stop them, to work up the courage to tell Kimmie the truth. She would listen if you told her, you believe that wholeheartedly; Kimmie has never been malicious, only self-involved, only shallow in a way that can be frustrating but also somehow pure. You always know exactly what Kimmie’s intentions are. She is as clear as still water, as glass.

As it turns out, Aegon is alone in his apartment. When you turn the spare key he gave you in the lock and open the front door, you find him sprawled on the couch and three rum and Cokes deep. He’s watching reruns of the X-Files. He yelps in surprise, flails, rolls onto the floor with a loud thud.

“Hi,” you say. Sunfyre frolics over to greet you, barking gleefully. You stroke his silky amber fur and scratch his ears, admiring the neat faint line of the scar on his muzzle. It was excellent suturing, you have to admit to yourself. It was a job well done.

“Jesus Christ, I thought you might be…” Aegon shakes his head as he lurches to his feet. “Never mind.”

“Kimmie?”

“No. Kimmie wouldn’t break and enter. And she doesn’t have a key.”

You stare at each other across the sparce room, silent except for the X-Files, the clacking of Sunfyre’s nails on the hardwood floor, the swishing of his tail. Then you toss Aegon the necklace. He grabs it out of the air, the shock blatant on his face. “You lied again.”

“About what?” he says, puzzled.

“You are married.”

Aegon remembers the engraving and then chuckles in relief. “Helaena’s not my wife. She’s my sister.”

“Oh.” This is interesting. This is a rare divulgence; you don’t intend to waste it. “Older or younger?”

“Younger.”

“Is Helaena your only sibling?”

“Too many questions.” He holds up the necklace. “Why did you pay to get this back?”

“I decided I didn’t want your money. You don’t seem to have an abundance of it, and I wouldn’t want to deprive you and Sunfyre of anything. Food. Rent. Condoms. Rum and Cokes.”

“That’s very thoughtful. My nonexistent illegitimate children send their regards.” He considers you. “I can’t give you the rest of the $500 yet. I don’t have it on me anymore.”

“Forget about the money. You need it far more than I do.”

He seems to find this amusing, though you aren’t sure why. “That’s fair, I guess.”

“Why do you hate Microsoft so much?”

Aegon is taken aback; he wasn’t expecting that. He finds his footing. “With computers and the internet, there are no more secrets, no more mysteries. I think the world is a more interesting place when you still have room to wonder. You shouldn’t be able to get all the answers to life’s thorniest predicaments from a cold white screen. You should have to go out and find them yourself. You should have to pay sweat and blood for them.”

“How contrarian. Self-righteous, even.”

He smiles. “That’s the Aquarius in me.”

You smile back, unable to help it. “Are you coming tomorrow?” Tomorrow is Saturday, December 11th. Heather has planned a hiking excursion in the Tongass National Forest; it’s forecasted to be unseasonably warm, 40 degrees by noon, practically balmy by Alaskan standards. You’ll have a few hours of daylight to enjoy before sunset around 3 p.m. And since the Juneau Police Department is adamant that no one traverses the trails alone until the Ice Fisher is apprehended…a group outing is both a welcome excuse to socialize and the only sensible option.

“I don’t know.” Aegon is avoidant; he stuffs the chain necklace into his jeans pocket and reties his man bun. “Do you want me to go?”

“No.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“I mean, I don’t not want you to go, but I also don’t want you to go. I don’t care, that’s what I mean. I have no preference.”

“Okay…?”

“I want you to do whatever you want to do.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to intrude, so I don’t want to go if you don’t want me there.”

“I’m not saying I don’t want you to go hiking, I’m just saying I also don’t not want you to go hiking.”

He sighs dramatically. “You are being remarkably unhelpful.”

“I’m sure Kimmie would like you to attend,” you jibe.

He throws up his hands, exasperated. “She probably would!”

“She hasn’t mentioned it?”

“Kimmie and I don’t do much…um…talking.”

You frown sullenly at the scuffed, dusty floor. “Awesome.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure you and Trent have lots of profound conversations when you hang out,” Aegon snaps. “You talk about science and animals and Ricky Martin and travelling the world and he talks about…what? Commercial fishing? Godzilla?”

“Steak tacos, mostly.”

That’s supposed to be a joke, but no one laughs. You actually wince at it. Aegon swallows noisily. He starts to say something, stops, starts again, gives up. He comes to you and points to your left hand. “Do you mind?”

You offer it freely. He massages your hand until it is supple and relaxed, gently bends and flexes your fingers, and then runs his calloused fingerprints down the lines of your palm as he studies them. You feel it everywhere: a cool tingling that shoots up your forearm, a jolt down your spine, the quickening of your heartbeat, a fresh wave of longing that crashes into you like the ocean against rocks. Why do I still want this? Why can’t I, after everything that’s happened, just learn how to hate him?

Aegon smirks crookedly. “It says you want me to go hiking tomorrow.”

“Who am I to disagree with an illustrious Taco Bell medium?”

Aegon drops your hand. “Is Trent going?”

“Yeah, that’s the plan.”

He nods. “I’ll be there.”

“Okay. Fine.”

“Fine.”

You give Sunfyre a parting kiss on the top of his head and turn to go…but your eyes catch on the magnets that clutter Aegon’s refrigerator, the vestiges of cities and experiences and women that he’s collected like seashells from the types of beaches you’ve never been to.

San Diego, you think vaguely, wistfully, looking at the splashing dolphin magnet. That’s where he said his favorite beach is.

“…You alright?” Aegon asks tentatively, following your eyeline.

Not really. Not anymore. You leave without answering him.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Truth or dare?” Kimmie asks, grinning from across the flames.

You’re gathered around a crackling campfire, sitting on stumps and felled logs; Trent rolled over an impressively massive one for you and him to share. Aegon is next to Kimmie, Joyce is next to Rob, and Heather is once again lamenting her awkward singleness. There’s snow on the ground, though it’s squishy and melting under the short-lived midday sun. There are hotdogs and marshmallows being roasted on sticks; bags of hotdog buns, graham crackers, and Hershey’s chocolate are passed around in a never-ending rotation. As far as drinks, mostly everyone is sticking to Surge and Snapple. Trent has had a few Heinekens. Aegon is pouring spiced rum from a Captain Morgan bottle into his half-drank cans of Coke. Heather’s battery-powered yellow Sony boombox is playing a Go West cassette tape. Their biggest hit, King Of Wishful Thinking, thrums through the forest of towering pine trees. Sunfyre—wearing a jacket and dog boots so snow doesn’t get impacted between his footpads—romps blissfully around the woods, eating fallen bits of hotdogs and graham crackers whenever the opportunity presents itself.

“Seriously?” Heather says. “Are we twelve years old? We’re not playing truth or dare.”

“Come on, please?” Kimmie presses her palms together as if in prayer, like she’s the patron saint of indecent party games. “It’ll be fun. It’ll be so fun.”

“I’m game,” Trent says.

“Me too!” Rob adds, gnawing on his fourth hotdog.

Joyce bites into a s’more, gooey chocolate-stained marshmallow oozing out from between the graham crackers. “I decline to participate.”

“You can’t decline,” Kimmie pouts. She peers around for inspiration, then spots the creek babbling a few yards away. She announces triumphantly: “You can only surrender!”

Joyce blinks at her. “Explain.”

“If anyone refuses to play, they have to dunk their face in the water for five seconds.”

“But it’s freezing cold!”

“You are a menace to civilized society,” Heather tells Kimmie. “You should be on the FBI’s Most Wanted list. Right next to Osama bin Laden.”

“Who?” Trent asks.

“He’s behind bombings of U.S. embassies in East Africa,” you explain. “Killed hundreds of people.”

Trent smiles at you proudly, drapes a heavy arm across your shoulders, pulls you in close and kisses your temple. “You’re too fucking smart, you know that?” You giggle dutifully but lean away from him, mortified. Aegon mixes more rum into his Coke can. “She’s so fly. I’m always learning new stuff from her.”

“Oh yeah? Getting some quality anatomy lessons?” Rob teases.

Trent brays out laughter and flips his hair. “Man, I wish. No anatomy lessons yet. But, you know…Christmas is right around the corner…it’s a very romantic time of year…maybe I’ll find her wrapped in a bow under a Christmas tree.”

“Please shut up immediately,” Heather says, disgusted. “You’re my brother. I don’t want to know about your sex life. I barely want to know about your non-sex-related life.” Aegon casts her a rare glance of approval, of gratitude. You can relate; you’re feeling pretty grateful too.

“So we’re playing truth or dare?” Kimmie prompts.

“I’m willing if everyone else is,” you say. Kimmie, ecstatic, leaps out of her seat and sprints around the campfire to hug you before returning to her log.

Aegon slurps on his unorthodox rum and Coke. “Same.”

Joyce groans. “Fine, I guess I’ll play.”

“Okay,” Heather relents. “If it will make you happy, Kimmie, then I’ll mentally transport myself back to the dark days of middle school and play this asinine game with you.”

“Yay!” Kimmie cheers. “Okay, I’ll start.” Her mischievous gaze travels around the circle. You try to appear inconspicuous by focusing your attention on your s’more. “Rob, truth or dare?”

“Dare,” he says, sitting up straighter and grinning enthusiastically.

“Go lick a tree.”

You burst out laughing; this really is so middle school.

“A tree?” Rob says, already scoping out the selection.

“Yup. A tree. Any tree.”

Rob stands, plods through the snow to a monstrous pine tree, and takes a long, slow lick of the bark. Everyone applauds his commitment. He returns to sit beside Joyce, who gives him a smile so swift it’s almost imperceivable. Joyce likes to pretend she’s above silliness—and maybe she is most of the time—but she’s still human.

“So you choose the next victim,” Kimmie instructs Rob.

“Okay, let’s see…” He makes a great show of scrutinizing everyone else before coming back to Joyce. “Darling Joyce, truth or dare?”

“If you try to make me lick something, I’ll stab you with your own hotdog stick.”

Rob smiles placidly. “Does that mean you’re choosing dare?”

“Yeah, I’ll choose dare. Only because Heather thinks I wouldn’t.”

“I am shocked,” Heather says, deadpan. “My heart just stopped. Someone resuscitate me.”

Rob thinks, tapping his bearded chin. “Hmm. Okay, Joyce, I dare you to stand on this log and serenade us with the entire Friends theme song.”

“No,” Joyce gasps, horrified.

“She can’t,” Heather says. “She’s allergic to fun and spontaneity.”

“I’ll do it,” Joyce huffs. She balances on top of the log and sings—even managing a few reluctant dance moves—while the rest of you clap at the appropriate moments: “So no one told you life was going to be this way…your job’s a joke, you’re broke, you’re love life’s DOA…”

“Who do you choose, Joyce?” Kimmie asks when the song has ended.

“Heather, obviously.” She is delighted, anticipating revenge. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Heather says primly, winking as she sips her can of Surge.

“You bitch! Who’s allergic to fun now?!”

“So ask me a fun question.”

Joyce sighs in defeat. “What are the five best books you’ve ever read?”

“You’re pathetic.”

“I need new reading material…!”

Next, Heather dares Kimmie to get a Sharpie tattoo drawn on her face—producing a black marker from her hiking backpack—though she gives Kimmie the generous courtesy of choosing the artist herself. Kimmie asks Aegon to do it. He sketches a cartoonish little dragon on her right cheek. He’s wearing all black again: black parka, black turtleneck, black jeans, black combat boots. You pet Sunfyre while Aegon draws on Kimmie’s cheek with his right hand, holding her face still with his left. You hate seeing him touch her. The blood burns in your own face, in your throat, in your lungs, all over.

“It’s getting warm by the fire,” you say casually, and start taking off your parka; you still have a turquoise sweater and white thermal T-shirt on underneath.

“Here, let me help you…” Trent reaches over and tugs at your parka, his large hands forceful and intrusive somehow.

“I got it.”

“Just let me—”

“Trent, I got it!” you insist. He lifts his hands away in capitulation. Aegon has stopped drawing Kimmie’s dragon and is watching Trent, who fortunately doesn’t seem very offended. You finish taking off your parka and fold it up neatly, setting it beside you on the log. Sunfyre whimpers until you resume petting him. There is an uncomfortable lull; Joyce assembles another s’more, Heather pretends to inspect her chipping nail polish, the hotdog Rob is roasting catches on fire and he flings it into a snowbank. Aegon looks back to Kimmie and finishes her dragon, tucking the Sharpie absentmindedly into his jeans pocket once he’s done.

“Trent,” Kimmie says. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare, totally!”

“Hmm…” She wordlessly deliberates. “Oh, I know! I dare you to make out with the most beautiful girl here.” She beams, sweetly, innocuously. She thinks she’s giving you a compliment. Aegon’s jaw falls open and he glares at her, furious. Before Kimmie can notice, he clears his face and takes a swig of rum straight from the bottle.

Trent chuckles. “Easiest dare I’ve ever agreed to.” And then he turns towards you.

“Wait, right now?” you say nervously. “In front of everybody?”

“Or Trent can always dunk his face in the creek,” Heather suggests. Joyce nods along.

“Not necessary at all,” Trent replies cheerfully. “Right, babe?”

What can you say?

No, you think abruptly, jarringly. I don’t want him to touch me. I could say no.

But there’s something that stops you from refusing…or, more accurately, several things. Firstly, you can’t really refuse without making it evident to everyone that you are less than smitten with Trent. Secondly, if you’re going to be forced to watch Aegon have his hands all over Kimmie, the least you can do in return is stop pushing Trent’s away. And lastly…

I don’t want to make Trent angry. I don’t know what he’s capable of when he’s angry.

You can’t bring yourself to believe that Trent is a serial killer, his size 12 L.L.Bean boots notwithstanding; in your estimation, he lacks the brutality, the cunningness, the strategic thinking. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t capable of hurting someone. That doesn’t mean you have no reasons to fear him.

“Okay,” you tell Trent, conjuring up a timid smile. “But, like, thirty seconds tops. PG-13, not R.”

“You got it.” He flips his hair off his forehead, grips your face rather roughly, and kisses you. His lips are soft and warm, but ravenously hungry; his tongue pushes into your mouth and explores you like a conqueror. He doesn’t try to feel you up—thank God—but one hand drops down to slink around your waist. You try to act like you’re enjoying this; but when Trent finally pulls away, your expression is palpably ashamed. You chug half a can of Surge to wash him out of you.

“Aww, no, she’s embarrassed!” Kimmie cries. She rushes over and squeezes in beside you on the edge of the log, constricting you in a familiar and theatrical embrace, stroking your hair. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You can’t help but feel better. Kimmie has no boundaries, that’s true, but it’s not universally a bad thing. Aegon takes another swallow of his rum. He looks shellshocked; he looks despondent.

“My turn to pick someone now, right?” Trent says.

“Right,” Kimmie concurs.

“Babe,” he says to you. “Truth or dare?”

“Oh, definitely truth.” Everyone laughs…well, everyone except Aegon. He’s watching you now, chewing the corner of his bottom lip. His eyes are intense, dark, seeking. His wayward lock of white-blond hair rests on his cheek.

Trent asks you: “What is your ultimate fantasy?”

“Stop!” Heather begs her brother. “Stop being so…so…so slutty!”

“He didn’t say sexual fantasy,” Joyce counters. “She could tell us that her ultimate fantasy is moving to Los Angeles and becoming a vet to celebrities. She could work on those tiny purse dogs all day. Maybe she could even meet Ricky Martin.”

“Yeah,” Trent agrees, though perhaps halfheartedly. “Whatever kind of fantasy.”

You ponder this for a while before you speak. “I want to lie on the beach in San Diego, California. I want to hear the waves crashing and feel the sun beating down on me. And I want to throw fish to the sea lions and watch them waddle around, barking like dogs. That’s my fantasy. Oh, and I want to eat like a million tacos. Not Taco Bell tacos, real tacos.”

“Okay, but Ricky Martin would be there too, right?” Rob jokes, eliciting laughter from everyone except Aegon.

“Naked,” Joyce adds.

“Sure.” You smile a little pensively, a little mournfully. “Why not? Ricky Martin can be there too. It’s just a fantasy, after all. It’s not real.”

“Why haven’t you gone there yet, babe?” Trent asks sympathetically, scoring himself several good boyfriend points.

“Well, you know…there’s the vet clinic…and my family…the timing has just never been right.”

“You’ll go to San Diego one day,” Heather promises.

Kimmie nuzzles against you, resting her head on your shoulder. “She hasn’t gone yet because she’s a mature, responsible person, truly the best of us.”

“Because she’s a coward,” Aegon mutters.

Everyone goes quiet and stares at him. Aegon looks stunned, like he hadn’t intended to say that out loud. Sunfyre snorts and canters off into the woods.

“What?” you say.

Aegon shakes his head. “Nothing.”

“No, really. What did you just say?”

Rob tries to broker a peace. “It doesn’t matter—”

“It does matter.” Your voice is dark like night, cutting like glass. “You think it’s cowardly to have responsibilities? You think it’s cowardly to care about other people?”

Aegon gulps down more rum and glares at you through the campfire flames. “I think it’s cowardly to blame other people for your lack of a spine, yeah.”

“Aegon!” Kimmie scolds harshly, incredulously.

Trent begins: “Hey, man, not cool—”

“You know what’s really cowardly?” you level at Aegon like the barrel of a gun. “Spending your entire life running away from things—things that are worthwhile, things that you want, things that you are desperate for—because you’re too fucking weak to cope with the possibility of losing them.”

And then you stand, tearing away from Kimmie and Trent when they try to stop you. You flee into the trees, scalding tears brimming in your eyes. Branches rip at you; one carves a shallow gash across your cheek just below your left eye. Snow collapses under your boots.

Faintly, you can hear Aegon saying to the others: “I’ll go, I’ll go, I’ll apologize.” And a few moments later, rapidly approaching: “Hey! Stop! Hey!”

“Leave me alone!” you scream over your shoulder. You run until you trip over a gnarled tree root and fall to the ground, sobbing, wet, cold, miserable.

Aegon catches up to you and bends over, gasping for air, his hands on his knees. Even from several feet away, you can smell the rum sweating out of him. “Are you psychotic?! You can’t just run off into the woods by yourself, there’s a killer on the loose!”

“Like you’d care if I got murdered!” you shout up at him. “It’d be the best day of your life, then you’d be free to fuck whoever you want and drink yourself to death without the inconvenience of having to be around me, boring, uptight, accountable, revoltingly cowardly me—!”

“God, you’re so fucking stupid—”

“Why are you even still here?! You could be jetting off to some other city, some other new adventure, you could leave anytime you wanted, so why if you hate me so much are you still here?!”

“Because I’m stuck here now!” he roars.

That doesn’t make any sense. That’s incompatible with absolutely everything about him. “Why?!”

He stands up straight and rubs his face with both hands. He’s calmer now; he’s trying to compose himself. His eyes are glistening, you realize. His cheeks are flushed. “Because of the Ice Fisher.”

“What are you talking about?”

He struggles to get it out. “I can’t leave…you…here…alone…until they catch whoever the killer is.”

You gaze up at him, not understanding. “Why do you care about what happens to me?”

“I think the answer to that is really obvious.”

“No, it’s not, because you don’t like me, you don’t respect me, you don’t want me—”

“I want you all the time,” Aegon says, and the feverish words in your throat vanish. “All the time. I pass out at night wanting you, I wake up hungover wanting you, I want you all the fucking time. I want you in the vet clinic, I want you in the bar, I want you in my apartment, I want you in the middle of the woods, I never for a single solitary goddamn second stop wanting you, and it’s hell, in case you’re wondering. But that’s not good enough for you. So now I’m the idiot. I’m never the one who gets left. I’m the one who leaves people, I’m the one who packs my bags in the middle of the night and catches a flight to the next city, I’m the one who runs away. It’s always me. But I showed you who I am and you couldn’t leave fast enough.”

Oh god, you realize. I can’t stop forgiving him. I can’t stop wanting him. I love him, I love him, I love him. “I wasn’t leaving you, Aegon. I was trying to fix you.”

“I’m not fixable!”

“But why?”

“I’m just not, I never have been, I’m never going to be. I can’t magically transform myself into the person you wish I was. Believe me, I would if I could, but I can’t. And I can’t stay here forever. I’m on a clock, I’m always on a goddamn clock. I’m just hoping they arrest the Ice Fisher before…before…” He trails off, staring vacantly into the wilderness.

“Before what?”

He says nothing. You haul yourself out of the snow and go to him. “Your face…” he whispers, touching the cut just beneath your eye.

“Before what, Aegon?” you ask, you plead. “I want to help you. I want to understand. What are you so afraid of? What is it? What the hell is it?”

He takes several steps away from you, looks down at his boots, stays that way for what feels like forever. “Okay,” he begins at last, his voice shaking.

Oh my god, he’s finally going to tell me. He really is. You brace yourself for the inevitable: he’s married, he’s a father, he’s being pursued by drug lords he’s indebted to, he’s a criminal, he’s a con artist, he’s a killer.

“My dad was the first investor in Microsoft.”

Your mind goes blank like a chalkboard wiped clean. “Microsoft…the…the company that’s worth $600 billion…?”

“Yeah. That one.” He gestures randomly. “My dad is a venture capitalist. So he owns equity stakes in a bunch of different businesses. When Bill Gates was just starting out, he and his partners needed money, so my dad invested and they gave him equity in return. A healthy slice of equity, because they weren’t worth anything yet. And so…as the company grew…”

“Wait, you’re a…?” You gawk at him. “You’re a…billionaire?!”

“Not me,” Aegon says. “Them! They’re the billionaires. Not me. I’m just a guy.”

“You are them, Aegon, because you’re the same people, you’re…you’re…”

“No, I’m not, because I left. I left when I was nineteen and I’ve never been back since. That was six years ago. Almost exactly six years ago.”

“You grew up in Miami,” you say, your voice sounding very far away.

“Yeah. Gorgeous mansion on the ocean, boarding schools, yachts, golfing, parties with lobster and prime rib, all of it.”

“And you left…because…?”

“Because I was the oldest son and the heir to the empire, and I didn’t want any of it. I didn’t want to live in a suit, I didn’t want to stare at a screen all day, I didn’t want to spend my life scheming, counting, networking, grasping. And I was no good at anything. I was an abject failure by any possible metric, and everyone knew it. All I ever wanted to do was work outside where I could see the sun and the stars, drink, get high, play guitar and sing punk rock songs. All I wanted to do was live. So I left. There’s more to it than that—a lot more to it—but now you know where I came from. I’ve never told anybody that. Not once in the last six years.”

“You don’t talk to anyone from Miami? Ever? No letters, postcards, phone calls, nothing?”

“Nothing.”

“You don’t ever miss your family?”

He smiles grimly. “I’m glad that you’ve lived the kind of life that makes it next to impossible for you to comprehend why someone would want to run away from home and never look back. Really, I’m genuinely happy for you. But that’s just not my reality.”

The revelation hits you like a fist. “They’re still searching for you.”

Aegon nods. “One of them in particular.”

“Helaena?”

“No.”

“Then who?”

“I don’t want to tell you that.” He glances at your cut again and shudders. “I don’t know how he’s finding me. But he is. I’ve seen him twice.”

“Twice? Since you left home…?”

“He didn’t see me, but I saw him. From a distance both times. Once in Phoenix, once in San Francisco. Both around the six month mark. If I stay too long in one place, he finds me. And if he ever gets ahold of me, I won’t be able to stop him from dragging me back home. Nothing on earth can stop him when he wants something.”

“How can you be so sure it was him?” you say. “If it was from far away, maybe you were just imagining it…maybe you saw someone who looked kind of like him, and because you’re so afraid of being found you thought it was him, but it wasn’t really—”

“He’s very distinct looking. Very, very distinct looking. There’s no mistaking him.” Aegon picks up a handful of clean snow, takes a small clump of it between his fingers, wipes the length of your cut with it gently, carefully. It soothes the stinging. It cools the roaring blood in your face. “Every year there are less and less people without internet. If someone Googles my last name, my family is the first result that pops up. Articles about my father’s success, my mother’s grace and beauty and philanthropy, the socialite daughter, the degenerate eldest son. One day there will be nowhere left to hide.”

“You never tried to change your name?”

“To legally change my name, I’d have to publish a public announcement so creditors—or anyone else—can come forward and object to it if they have a reason. The media would pick it up. There would be headlines, news commentators, maybe even court hearings. My family would find out, and they would come get me.”

“They’re that determined? They’re that capable?”

“One of them, yes.”

“You can’t stay in Juneau,” you say, your voice splintering like thin ice.

“No, I can’t. Not forever. But hopefully long enough make sure you’ll be safe once I’m gone.”

You look at him. “Do you have any idea who the Ice Fisher could be?”

He shrugs, like if he ignores the possibility he can make it disappear. “Not really. I guess…I guess have one person I’m concerned about. I don’t really think it’s him, I can’t bring myself to believe that, I never thought he was capable of violence before, but now…now…something about him worries me. It keeps me awake at night.” He pauses. “It scares the hell out of me, because he’s so close to you.”

Trent. He means Trent. And I can’t disagree. “I don’t know what to do about him.”

“Don’t make him angry,” Aegon says urgently. “I’m not saying you have to do anything with him that you don’t want to, no, he doesn’t own you, he shouldn’t bully you into anything. I’m just saying to avoid confrontations. And try not to be alone with him.”

“I understand. I won’t make him angry.”

Aegon takes the Sharpie out of his pocket. “Here. Give me your arm.” You do so without any hesitation. He considers your left palm, then decides against it: too noticeable, too easy to get smudged. He pushes your sleeve up to your elbow and writes a phone number across the soft skin of your forearm in black ink. “This is for if he ever tries to do anything that you’re not cool with. Or if you just need to talk. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agree quietly.

He puts the cap on the Sharpie and tucks it away again. Out of the trees appears Sunfyre, panting and jubilant to see you both. He accepts pats and scratches and then heads back towards the campfire. You and Aegon follow him, walking close enough to touch each other but not daring to.

“You’re alive!” Heather rejoices when she sees you. And then she glowers at Aegon. “Get over here. I’m going to gut you like a deer, Greek boy.”

“It’s fine,” you say. “We talked, we’re friends again, everything’s good.”

“Really?” Kimmie asks hopefully.

“Yup,” Aegon says, standing beside her but making no eye contact.

“You better be.” Trent grins, hugs you—lifting you clear off the ground—and then notices where the branch gashed your cheek. “What happened to your face, babe?”

“Just a tree. I ran into it, it’s my fault. I can clean it up when I get home.”

“That’s the great thing about being a doctor,” Trent says brightly. “Even an animal doctor. You can fix almost anything yourself.”

You glance at Aegon, heavy with a steely grey fog like grief. “Yes. Almost anything.”

You ride home the same way you arrived to the hiking expedition, with Trent and Heather; Aegon and Sunfyre leave in Kimmie’s pink Land Cruiser. When you get inside, the first thing you do is write down Aegon’s phone number on a Post-it note and stick it inside the top drawer of your nightstand. You shower, tend to your shallow cut—“not too bad, ladybug,” your dad offers supportively, “not too bad at all”—and help your mom make dinner: reindeer sausage from Mr. Campbell’s farm, mashed potatoes, glazed carrots, broccolini, homemade chocolate bread for dessert. Not quite prime rib and lobster, you think dazedly, your mind swimming.

Hours later, as you lay in bed gazing up at your ceiling, you can’t stop hearing what Aegon said, his voice deep and raw and achingly beautiful. I want you all the time. I never for a single solitary goddamn second stop wanting you.

You get out the Post-it note, pick up the phone on top of your nightstand, dial the number for Aegon’s shabby little apartment on the other side of Juneau. He answers almost immediately. He’s very tipsy, but alert.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” you say softly, and only silence follows. You wring the phone’s blue spiral cord between restless fingers. “It’s—”

“I know who it is.” Now you can hear that he’s smiling. “What can I do for you, Appletini?”

“Tell me about San Diego.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything,” you say. And then again: “Everything.”

And that’s exactly what he does: he paints a vision with his words, he tells you about driving through the Mars-red canyons and peaks of the Laguna Mountains until you crest the top and see the Pacific Ocean, endless and sapphire blue and glittering under sunlight that bakes the shadows from your bones. He tells you about the surfers, the dolphins, the cliffsides, the sea lions, the sailboats, the hot air balloons and kites and parasailers, the historic district of the city that still remembers its origins as a Spanish fort and mission. You can almost see it; you can almost reach out and touch it.

You listen to Aegon until you fall asleep, the phone tumbling out of your grasp and onto the pillow beside you; and even then, your dreams are filled with him.

#aegon x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #aegon ii #aegon x y/n #aegon x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon ii x reader #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen ii x reader #aegon targaryen ii

[sicklyseraphnsuch]

Writer's Notes

Okay, so one of the show's central issues was the way Betty and Simon's relationship is clearly not perfect and Simon has to stop idealizing it

Like coming from a writer's perspective, making a couple's talk where two individuals hash out where in the relationship things went bad - that's hard to make visually interesting. Since Fionna and Cake is primarily a visual experience, we can't have the entirety of episode 9 be Betty just saying that Simon wasn't thoughtful but also... It wouldn't pay off if Simon didn't figure it out himself.

So this problem? Needed to have more hints to its resolution from the get go. Like the other worlds hammered in Simon's worth and impact as a person, but it didn't do nearly a good job of pointing out how he could help himself.

Winter King was actually primed to point out. It could have been as simple as saying "Well why would I remember her? She's just another obsessed fangirl." And we go from there.

Honestly, we didn't need "Casper and Nova", we needed "Winter King" as a two parter. Simon has to face the flaws in himself that he doesn't acknowledge. The way Simon blithely downplays "Winter King" as a Simon that's simply messed up instead of his own self centered perspective ramped up to 100 is... a waste.

So we put a bug in Simon's ear that maybe his pity party is just a little self indulgent. Maybe we put Simon and Fionna in the bassinet because Simon can have a self reflection moment with Fionna.

Like it could've been as easy as:

"I never realized I could be that self centered."

"But that wasn't you right?"

"... I could've been."

And then, we move through the vampire world as in the show. But in the Lich world, Simon *has* to start putting two and two together. He begins to expand his perspective to the ways his Crown plan isn't considerate of the way it effects others - the way he wasn't that considerate of Betty.

We can have those flashbacks about Betty and Simon's relationship but when Fionna makes her comments, Simon takes her input seriously. And when we reach the part where Simon is about to put on the Crown, Simon doesn't say goodbye, he could say something like "I'm sorry".

And we move into the Betty reunion with Simon fully in a new perspective in their relationship. We don't need "Casper and Nova" to spell it out if he was already there. And we don't need to see the future. We can dedicate episode 9 on Simon's reflection of his past, his present, and his future. We can keep it visually interesting by showing smash cuts to Fionna's problem with Scarab.

Then that leaves episode 10 entirely as an epilogue.

#adventure time #fionna and cake #simon petrikov #betty grof

[gingerylangylang1979]

How Colorism fuels BW/WM swirls in media

I guess this is maybe a counterpoint/companion post to this one and the dialogue started with @theonlyamazingtazmin in the comments.

That post was an ask that black women set personal boundaries around how the ship and media about the ship is effecting our well being. But an equally important conversation is why do we so often have to look to interracial couples for a well written romance for dark skinned black women. While I'm cautious about the level in investment in these pairings, I cannot deny the appeal and why it's almost a default because of how much romance for dark skinned black woman is gate kept.

My initial remedy to this frustration of how we attach ourselves to this pairing was, we need to watch and support black romance and and black tv shows and movies. But a lot of the problem is in doing just that. I watched mostly black shows in my youth and the pattern was already established of me always seeing the dark skin woman alone or butch while the lighter girls had their pick.

My favorite show as a teen was A Different World. And as ground breaking as that show was in many respects I do have to call out the paradigm it reinforced. Dwayne was obsessed with Whitley, the whitest looking woman shown on campus, and he was the darkest man shown on campus. Ron liked her best friend, Millie, a light skin girl, after that wasn't a thing it was like so crazy that he ended up with Jaleesa. His mom (the fab Patti LaBelle) kept telling him to get with the dark skinned girl with the pretty teeth, but it was like he resisted vehemently beforehand. He does, but then ends up with biracial Freddy and Jaleesa ends up with an old man and becomes a stepmom as her best option.

Back when I had HBO (I only pay for one subscription at a time and my current roommates decided to do the Disney+ package, but I only end up watching Hulu) I watched Insecure but didn't finish. I'm curious to see what happened romantically with the characters. Did they follow the same playbook? I don't want to be spoiled because I hope to continue that show one day, so please don't tell me. But I remember in the precursor to this show, Awkward Black Girl, Issa's love interest was a like pretty average, kinda lame white guy. Her black crush never panned out. I kind of rooted for her and white boy but like not that enthusiastically. I just wanted her to be loved, so tried to be into it, but honestly was like, is this her best option? I didn't finish because it frustrated me that he was her best option. Personal note: I need to finish an Issa Rae show.

Fast forward to literally as of yesterday. I started watching Queen Sugar (Hulu tries to represent black shows and movies but the selections aren't the best, if anyoen has recs, please share) because I said I want to watch more black entertainment like I did in my youth. The most recent try before this was Atlanta and I just wasn't impressed. Come to find out how douchey Donald Glover is about black women and got turned off. Anyways, I did get invested in QS after a few episodes and even cried. So what turned me off a bit and I hope doesn't put me off the show? Spoiler alert: The darkest woman, Nova, is a white cop's mistress. This isn't revealed right away. It opens with them having a sensual morning after but for some reason despite him being hot, I felt ick. Like, I predicted there was something ick coming, and sure enough she's the long term side piece. Her fine af dark skinned brother's ex is a light skinned woman and there seems to be a mild flirtation with his son's Latina teacher. The light skinned sister is married to a man about her skin tone. The aunt who is medium skin tone has a husband darker than her. So it kind of reinforced the colorism and that Nova's only option out of everyone else has to be a white man, and a white man that can't fully commit to her at that.

Now, let me jump back to why I got so invested in Richonne. I know some people probably like does this girl only hardcore ship traumatized curly haired blue eyed white men with dark skinned black women? Not intentionally, haha! But that was the most epic love story I've seen with a black woman who looks anything like me. I wasn't even expecting to ship anything on that bleak ass show. Not my fault. Maybe I'm not looking hard enough? But yeah, when I reached my adult years I kind of got tired of looking for the romance I wanted to see, that represented me, in black media and being disappointed. Because the dark skinned girls didn't get the same love as the lighter ones (or they are lesbians but that's a whole other post). I'm not saying white media isn't guilty. It's just white media when they tend to give a dark skinned black woman a romance it's with a white man if she isn't alone or a lesbian, just like black shows, but the romance tends to be deeper if it's main plot point, or at least that's what I see in Richonne and Carmy x Sydney.

I think there is a good and bad side to this. On one hand yes, give it to me. On the other is it only palatable for a dark skinned black woman to get love in a show with a mixed cast with a white man because there is still and aversion to black love for these women? It's so complex. This is why when I wrote my Syd and Carmy fic I intentionally made her ex a dark skinned black man. Carmy is mad jealous of him. It's not a real love triangle, he just frames it as one because he's insecure of her highly successful, young Idris Elba looking almost fiance, who her dad loves and is a family friend. So, of course Carmy is in his feelings. Although Syd dated white guys I didn't want the strongest competition to be another white guy. And I have Syd speak to the lameness of these other white men on purpose, on multiple occasions. She was always kind of chasing a Carmy replica but not because they were white, it's because he imprinted on her. But she chased trying to be with her ex just as hard, but for different reasons and in a different way.

Anyways, I don't even know what to expect from media at this point because often what we see onscreen does reflect reality. I'll describe myself. I'm a petite, slim curvy girl, cocoa complexion, kinky curly who often gets that "so pretty for a black girl" type compliment in the black community and from racist white people. My dating history has been mixed and mostly white (two Asians also in the mix) in my latter years by default. When I was in high school the few black boys (I went to a mostly white school) chased the white, Latina, or light skinned girls. And the few that were interested were not desirable trouble makers. One was so bad he verbally abused me in front of people consistently and then I found out he had a crush one me. No thanks, red flags galore. The first somewhat decent boy that was interested and actually knew me was my white boy best friend who tried to make a move one day. I wasn't interested, didn't see it coming, but it started a pattern. I just wanted to be his bestie because we were both film geeks, had family trauma, were loners, smoked weed, and were in theater together. It's so funny because he was a dead ringer for Leonardo Dicaprio and all the white girls swooned for him and I was like eh (never thought Leo was all that). So, no, I didn't view him as a prize romantically. But this same type thing continued with white guy friends secretly having a crush and me like not being that excited. But one day I did like one, gave it a try, and was like, ok cool, I can try this. And since then I get way more interest from white men than black men.

*Caveat, I'm currently single and don't think race has any influence on quality of men. My long term Asian ex was the worst boyfriend of my life and I'm still traumatized. Long story.

So should I be this surprised that media reflects my same experience? I don't know what the solution is going forward. Like, will media change and influence society or does society need to change to influence media?

#carmy x sydney #chefs kiss #syd x carmen #sydcarmy #interracial relationship #swirl #black women on tv #black romance #misogynoir