#novasforce

[andfangs]

Adrian Chase + Autistic Traits

[jaqobis]

monty montague for the character bingo

MONTY!!! i can’t believe i got bingo at last and it was for monty...i’m only about halfway through gentleman’s guide to vice and virtue but i love him your honor!! if anything bad happens to him i’ll kill everyone in this room and also myself !!!! obligatory they work better as part of a dynamic because he’s best with percy!!! they are EVERYTHING to me as you can see i’m feeling very normal about this book sdlfjslk 

[sgtjamesrogers]

ok i gotta know, what's going on with lord of the flies but tomgreg ghfdjsk

AHAHA thank you caitlin it is... somehow That, at some point after i finished season three i thought to myself 'wow i love their fucked up dynamic and off putting vibes... what if they got stranded on a deserted island after a plane crash <3' which will have it all: two men that should have more wilderness knowledge than they actually have, fear of death and mortal injury, an illness that would have been easily curable with antibiotics, and tomgreg finally fighting like chickens

It’s funny, how Tom has always known objectively, logically, that Greg is a quote-unquote, ‘lengthy man’, and yet this feels like the first moment he’s been truly aware of it. Of course he, and truthfully every single Roy sibling has found a way to badger him over it, but watching him drag their life raft ashore somehow hammers the point home in a way Tom hadn’t conceptualized before.

With another half-successful yank of the corded nylon rope wrapped around the raft, the bedraggled pop-up tent above it collapses inward, encasing Tom in the salty embrace of lightweight polyester. He doesn’t move; he simply lifts one hand up to raise the tent from his face to continue watching Greg flounder in the damp sand like a two-legged ferret. 

“You know, this, this would be—” Greg gives the raft another hard yank, “—you could, you know, get out and this wouldn’t take so long.” His voice is hoarse, and he gives a wheezy little cough as he pauses with his hands on his knees. 

Smoke inhalation, Tom thinks absently. Then he giggles, and feels his eyes attempt to well up as the sound rasps out of him. Somehow, he doesn’t seem to have enough moisture in his body for that. He thinks maybe, maybe he might be losing it. But that’s also a thought he’s had before. Tom decides briefly that he should climb out, but before he can move Greg bends down into the raft; not unlike a particularly long-necked goat in search of extra feed pellets at the petting zoo. 

He tears a damp canvas bag from the corner with a harsh velcro rip, tossing it out behind him before he cups the side of Tom’s head like he’s checking a melon at the grocery store. Tom grimaces away from his damp, sandy palm. 

“Hey, stop, stop, you uh…” Greg lowers his voice, as if there’s anyfuckingbody else that can possibly hear him right now. Then Tom imagines that they washed up on a crowded beach on O’ahu, and he’s having a nervous breakdown surrounded by sunbathers covered in Coppertone. A nervous breakdown within five hundred feet of a goddamned Sandals Resort. “You seemed like you were, that you might have gotten somewhat concussed when we—”

Tom cuts him off simply by way of grabbing Greg by the shoulders to hoist himself up; grunting with annoyance as his vision swims for a minute. Maybe he was concussed. Swimming in wet fabric, it feels uncomfortably yonic as he climbs out, eyes squeezing shut against the harshly bright sun overhead. The heat is so much worse out here; Tom can almost imagine it drifting up from the sand in waves. 

His eyelashes, his eyelids themselves already feel crusty with salt as he rubs at them punishingly with the heels of his hands. Fuck, did his eyes hurt. Come to think of it (which was difficult; the thinking part, at present) his whole head hurt. Shielding his eyes with the flat of one hand he peers up at Greg first, who is worrying his chapped bottom lip with his teeth as he watches. 

That familiar friend of Tom’s, the irrational anger that wells up inside of him like a restless old lion at a shitty roadside tourist trap, rattles feebly against the cage where Tom keeps it. Sometimes with greater success than on other occasions. He opens his mouth to snarl at Greg for looking at him with that wounded expression, like his cat just had kittens and Tom was the runt who just wasn’t going to make it. As his eyes adjust properly, the noise temporarily dies in his throat, a flame blown out by an ominously building wind. 

To either side of the raft, as far as Tom can see to his left or his right is simply sand; bare right up to the rocky treeline that seems to be slowly growing consumed by the long hungry roots of the shockingly tall trees looming there. As he looks, a flock of some pacific birds breaks out of the tree line and wheel overhead for the briefest moment before turning back inland; the aviary version of a Lincoln Navigator doing a three-point turn. No beachgoers, no Sandals resort. 

“Fuuuuuuuck,” Tom breathes out, hoarse and reeling. Greg nods clumsily; a marionette whose puppeteer is very exhausted by all of this. 

“That’s- that’s exactly it,” he says, bleak resignation in his tone, in the sloping line of his shoulders. “Yeah, Tom, it’s…it’s fuck alright.”

[bisamwilson]

ok i have to know about "yo danny phantom he was just 14"

thanks for the ask, caitlin!!

this is my sambucky ghost au (bucky as a ghost, sam as a disgruntled home owner) i started writing in like the summer time that i actually had a really good plot line for but never properly outlined so it’s still sitting in drafts. i want to finish this one some day bc i really do love it, it’s just the commitment of a story that long, yk?

snip:

“How do you feel about cats?” Sam asks to the open space one evening, sure Bucky would let him know eventually. 

To his surprise, a pen immediately starts floating. Bucky usually waits till he’s out of the house to do any obvious moving about, and it strikes Sam that this means Bucky probably tends to stick pretty close to him when he’s home. 

I love cats, comes the careful cursive with which Sam has become incredibly familiar. Please, please, please tell me we’re getting a cat. 

“I’m planning on getting a cat,” Sam says pointedly. “There’s a sweet little two year old cat at the shelter one of my coworkers volunteers at, and I’ve seen enough pictures and videos now to kind of fall in love with him. His name’s Figaro.”

Cats love ghosts, Bucky writes. They’ve got a good sixth sense. We intrigue them.

“Alright, so you’re pro-cat. That’s good to know, thanks,” Sam replies. He’d probably still have gotten Figaro if Bucky had been entirely neutral about cats, but he would’ve hesitated if he’d been anti-cat. Their truce is too careful now to upset that too badly. 

Sam assumes the conversation is over, but the pen starts moving again. One of the families a long time ago had a cat. Her name was Alpine. She was a beauty. 

The pen pauses but stays in the air, so Sam waits patiently for whatever Bucky’s going to write next. 

Most of the other families had dogs. Dogs don’t like ghosts much. 

Sam’s not sure exactly what “don’t like” entails, but the pen floats back to the table which means Bucky doesn’t want to talk about it. He shrugs. 

“Cats are more suited to my lifestyle anyway. Don’t have time for a dog right now,” he says, and the air shifts in a way that puts Sam a bit more at ease. He wonders if that’s just what it feels like when Bucky relaxes. 

It’s a good feeling. He needs to figure out how to do that more often.

send me an ask with a title from this wip list and i’ll tell you about it/give you a snip!

[mari--lace]

matt murdock for the character meme

1: sexuality headcanon: bisexual (also I kinda hc TV Matt as demi sometimes)

2: otp: too many! I love him with Claire, Natasha, Jennifer, Frank, KIRSTEN MCDUFFIE

3: brotp: Foggy 🥹 I love their friendship so much. Also Karen and Jessica.

4: notp: Foggy, I can't really see them as anything different than best friends.

5: first headcanon that pops into my head: He wasn't Blipped. This isn't good news. *angst*

6: favorite line from this character: "You don't get to destroy who I am!"

7: one way in which I relate to this character: (for TV Matt) his faith. I'm not Catholic, but Matt's struggles with his faith resonated with me.

8: thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character: his inability to lie, like when he says to Karen with a straight face: "You know I'm blind" to try and justify his injuries. She's not stupid, Matt! But I also love this about him so.

9: cinnamon roll or problematic fave? Cinnamon roll. He's never done anything wrong in his life. Jokes aside, he's a deeply flawed character, but he tries really hard to be good and do the right thing.

[agentjackdaniels]

babysitters for the WIP meme! 👀

I should get back to this, but Jack and Sugar have all my creativity lately, apparently. Basically, it’s a scene from my RebelCaptain Romance Collection. Kes Dameron asks Jyn to watch Poe for a bit; thirteen year old Poe thinks he’s too old to be babysat. So Jyn convinces him he’s actually going to be helping her watch Rue and Karis (Scott) instead.

Jyn scrunched up her nose. It was hard enough keeping an eye on Rue and Karis with Cassian off in meetings all day—could she really handle adding a teenage boy to the mix? She looked at the kid, who reminded her of Cassian a bit in looks but of herself in the rebellious nature behind his eyes, and she smiled softly. “Yeah. Actually, Poe, with Cassian not here I’m the one who needs a babysitter, or at least a little help with the twins. What do you think about that?”

Poe’s brow furrowed. “I don’t know how to take care of kids,” he said cautiously.

“That’s okay,” Jyn smiled conspiratorially. “Me, either.”

[sapphicsrogues]

this love came back to me for starmora because i'm a giant cliche

i feel so bad bc this has been sitting in my ask box for months but here's a snippet of what i've been working on since the premise fits this lyric almost too well:

“Restore your–– what? Gamora, what are you saying?”

“When I– she died, her soul was traded for the stone. According to Adam when I was…relocated to this timeline it caused part of my soul to die as well. He believes he can somehow merge our two souls to revitalize my own.” Peter’s too focused on trying to process what she’s saying to notice her slip-up.

“What does that mean?”

“I’m not quite sure,” Gamora sighs, finally giving in and sitting on the edge of the couch. “But I’ve been…struggling this past year. If this could stop the inner turmoil I’ve been suffering I’m willing to risk it, even if–– even if it kills me.”

“Gamora…” He wants to tell her no, that he can’t lose her again, but he knows what she’ll say, that he hasn't lost her –– this her –– before, so he doesn’t go on.

“I have to at least try,” Tears well in her eyes, and his heart cracks at the sight.

“Okay,” He nods, his throat tight. “Okay. I get it.” She purses her lips as a lone tear begins to trail down her cheek. He tries not to think about the last time they were in this position –– Gamora ready to face death, Peter helpless to do anything but wipe her tears. Only now he can’t even do a task as simple as that because Gamora’s practically a million miles away, sitting on his couch hastily wiping them herself.

the whole thing should be up within the next few weeks, i want to get it out before vol 3 since it's a speculation fic and it's already the longest one shot i've written.

[batmurdock]

avengers and stan lee for the marvel asks!

avengers: how dare u ask me marvel or dc. marvel but they’re on thin ice at all times!!!! dc is close second in my heart tho and they often trade off back and forth stan lee: go look in the nearest reflective surface for me, wouldja pal honestly I’m beyond humbled and grateful to get to create with you, raptor, and other folks so...there’s at least 2+ there. Mary Oliver is a big influence lately, as is Al Ewing, Maggie Stiefvater, Christopher Nolan [again, as he’s consistently been, so sue me], Guy Ritchie, John Mulaney, Ilisa Schlesinger, and many others. It’s impossible to name them all, the world is full of wonderful people who bring countless joys, ideas, and thoughts to reality. but I maintain above anyone else, it is the people I get to create with every day who fulfill me and ignite my spirit most. .v.