#I love Uriah so freaking much

[psi-scribe]

Ok, finally getting back into the swing of things between working on asks (I’m so sorry they’ve taken a hot moment, life do be wild at times), painting, writing and such. With that being said, book talk continues!

On my quest to read a ton of Dark Angel content, I started at the very beginning with the 30k era (Let me tell you, the list given to me just for 30k Dark Angel stuff is quite long). So after Descent of Angels I moved onto Tales of Heresy, which is a collection of stories from different factions.

Short version? Most of them were really good, a few even had some real gut-punching lines, one was nothing but a single strong punch to KO someone.

Longer notes (Rambling really) under the read-more, to various degrees of spoilers.

So the first story was Blood Games, which I had roughly known about beforehand. It’s such a interesting concept, the Custodes purposefully trying to break into the Imperial Palace to find any weak points or flaws. And considering what I know about how Blood Games began, I couldn’t help but chuckle a few times. Very fun to get a custodes pov too, especially from the 30k era and action packed without bordering onto being too much.

Wolf At The Door was next and damn.. It was well written and the story it tells is extremely effective. Once again showing that the Imperium is a brutal machine that grinds all in it’s wake during the Great Crusade. The last line is: Outside, the people of Antimon were still cheering their deliverance when the first bombs began to fall.

Damn.

Scions of The Storm was the next story and no less as brutal. Especially when there’s the line “Less than twenty-four hours later more than a hundred and ninety million people were dead – over ninety-eight per cent of the doomed world’s population.“ Poor Sor Talgron he seems like another decent Word Bearer and he’s going to die horribly later on, I just know it.

The Voice is perhaps the ‘weakest’ of the stories. Not because it was bad, far from it, in fact it was very interesting since it’s solely a Sister of Silence only story and they are so under loved no matter the setting. It’s also very unsettling given that it takes place on a Black Ship and well, you know how the Imperium is with psykers. There’s rivalry, there’s murder and there’s an SoS breaking her vow of silence. Delightful really.

Ah Call Of The Lion, the story that made me crack open this book in the first place. I admit that I only know of Astelan as a Fallen in 40k so reading about him before that was fun! He actually sounds like a pretty cool guy too. But damn did I hate Belath so freaking much. What a lil prick and telling Astelan, “I’m telling the Lion on you!!” Ugh, UGH.

The Last Church is one of those stories I first heard about when I was first getting into Warhammer. Suffice to say I can see why it was mentioned a lot. Uriah was so interesting and damn shout-out to his patience for dealing with Big E.

After Desh’ea is that story I mentioned that was like one long gut punch. This is the story where Kharn survives a beatdown from a freshly ‘returned’ Angron who is rightfully pissed off about everything and mourning the precious people he did have. It hurt to read this between Angron, Kharn and knowing what happens.

[strangeclouddream]

ISSUES WITH WAYSAS CHARACTER

already posted this on my AO3 but here goes

Discovering the series

Note! This is more personal to me, and why I feel this was about the issues that will be presented, but you can always skip if you want :)

I first found this book series when I was had just moved to New York. I was a wannabe-writer ten year old, who was obsessed with scary stories, gothic mansions, and the south, which me and my family had left behind. For context, I was born in the deep south- which didn't sit well with the fact that I am Asian American and also fruity. My childhood was spent mainly indoors to escape the heat, the bugs, and the humidity. My mom would give me books with diversive casts of characters, mainly the PJO series/ HoO series, while my dad tried to keep be connected to my roots. I had friends, most of the kids were nice, but it wasn't perfect. I had the 'Chinese, Japanese, Americanise' thing done to me (Side note, my dumbass thought that was hilarious and I showed it to my mom later that day. You can guess what happened), I had a very distinct memory of my own 'lunchbox moment', anything mentioning my fathers country of origin was noticed by my classmates, who would immediately point it out to me like I had some connection to it. Like, thanks Sally!, I totally remember bombing Pearl Harbor! 

Books were my solace, my peace and quiet. One of my best friends, who I had left behind, knew that. So that autumn, they sent me a care package. 

Coincidentally, that is the same friend who I share this account with :-). Anyway, the package had the usual stuff, pens, a diary so we could write back and forth like penpals, merchandise from a cartoon show we both enjoyed, Gravity Falls.

And- Books! I had kind of pushed them to the side at first, but as time went on, and I made the bitter discovery that our public library had been nothing like the ones back in Texas, I started to notice them more.

The first book of theirs I read was the thief lord. I spent the rest of the day day-dreaming about Venice, and abandoned movie theaters. 

Before I knew it, I had read through the entire stack, until I noticed one book that had been pushed under the bed. 

It had a picture of girl on it, the letters spelling out: Serafina and The black cloak

I was hooked. It wasn't as scary as ten year old me thought it was going to be, but I enjoyed it anyways. I went onto the next book, and the next-

I loved it so much, I drew fanart, wrote fanfiction (Which will NEVER, I repeat, NEVER, reach the light of day.), even contemplated sending a letter to the author himself. 

One thing always lurked in the back of my mind though. The entire cast of characters, save for one, were Lily white. 

And even then, the issue of racism and classism, which were VERY prevalent at the time, especially at a place like Biltmore, were never mentioned. 

So that's why Im sitting here, about to force you to listen to me go on a rant about this series.

WAYSAS CHARACTER AND HIS ENTIRE BACKGROUND.

One thing to clarify, I don't want to sound like one of those people. I'm not trying to make myself sound oppressed or whatever by this book. I am not calling Mr. Beatty a racist, I am just pointing some things that should have been more focused on. One thing is, Waysa. Don't get me wrong, I love him so much, he's my little scrunkly. But good lord, his character could've flew but instead it just limply sailed for a moment then stopped. My theory is that he was put in as a diversity check. He has almost no background, other than his family was killed for plot (Although we don't really know why Uriah had a vendetta against his family), he helped the white main character 'find herself' and that, uhh, he loves peace and not fighting. And he's weirdly wise, like an all-knowing figure head. We don't even know his freaking last name, or his sisters name. Why was he so close with his sister? Where did he live? Not a cave, if Mr. Beatty even bothered to go pick up a history book he would know that the Cherokee didn't just live in caves/huts and that before the Indian removal act of 1830, they actually lived on farms, in houses. In Book 3, Rowena mentions that Waysa's family had refused to go with the rest of their tribe during the trail of tears. That would most likely mean they must have had a house, a small house, but still a  house. Unless it somehow got repossessed, then I see no way how his family could end up in the woods. 

ERMMMM AKTUALLY IT WAS PROBABLY BC THEY WERE CATA-

Im going to stop you right there buddy. I know they are catamounts, but I believe that it would be easier to raise four kids (Waysas brothers, his sister, and him) in a place where it is easy to access education and clean water, and not have to chase down their prey. Besides, they would be closer to people of their tribe who decided to stay, closer to medical care etc. 

Maybe they only went into the woods to hide from Uriah? Well, Mr. Beatty never mentions that so IDK.

If I am being frank, I feel that the only reason that Waysa was even included in the series is for a diversity quota. For example, in the third book they bring up the trail of of tears. For an entire sentence, they don't even bring up why the trail of tears happened, and the negative impact it had on the tribes involved. 

A direct quote from the book states that: "Long ago, many members of your tribe were driven by force from their homes to the barren lands in the west, but few stayed behind in these mountains, unwilling to leave their homeland..."

There are so many things wrong with this sentence that I cannot even. Firstly, he never mentions who (The combined effort of settlers, President Andrew Jackson, and the superiority complex  many, not all, but white folk had against POC at the time) caused the trail of tears, which lands they were forced too, and what happened to the ones who had stayed behind. I imagine it was not very pleasant. Another issue I have, besides side stepping around what caused it, is the fact they never mention what fucking tribe he's a part of.

Girlie, you cant just gloss over that part, that's like a huge part of his ethnic background. A quick Google search will tell you that although many groups has sought recognition from the government, only three tribes are recognized. This is a direct quote from the Cherokee nation website, and it states that:

 "There are three federally recognized Cherokee tribes, with Cherokee Nation being the largest. The other tribes include the United Keetoowah Band of Cherokee Indians in Oklahoma and the Eastern Band of Cherokee Indians in North Carolina."

I CANNOT EVEN. Going back on what I said about his ethnic background, in the first book it is almost never mentioned, and in the third book it is only there when it is necessary to the plot, ie when he says Cherokee words that have like little to know addition to the plot only so the author can make him seem 'wise' (Don't get me wrong I love learning new languages, especially those that aren't as talked about, but in the book...ergh), as part of his character description (Fandom states that he has tribal tattoos on his arms, but MR BEATTY OVER HERE never mentions what they look like. Smh...)

Oh and by the way, I actually searched it up, here's a link to read a conversation between Mike Crowe on cherokee tattoos: https://visitcherokeenc.com/blog/tattoos-a-language-beyond-communal-bounds/ 

I believe this is a picture of a traditional Cherokee tattoo, but as always, please let me know if I am wrong 

And then there is the topic of racism and classism, which were very prevalent at the time, especially at places such as biltmore. Does Mr. Beatty ever mentions this?

<3 NOPE

Only at one point when Essie notices Waysa and is intrigued by him. That's it :3! I was honestly hoping for some sort of talk that they would have, because you cannot tell me someone like Waysa could just walk into a place that has historically been teeming with rich whites, and not have some sort of negative expirence. 

I cannot believe how Waysa and Braeden just clicked, considering their VERY different backgrounds. There must be some sort of tension between the two...right?

(Bruh I say that after writing M/M fanfiction about them...CANON IS DEAD LONG LIVE THE AU)

NOPE. Their differences are never mentioned, and it never has an effect on each other. I was actually really sad when he did this, because this could have been a great moment when he reflected on the issues of the time, yet people were still able to push past that and become friends. 

Mr. Beatty seems to paint Waysa as the all knowing wise guide for the white girl in the second book. No twelve year old boy would talk the way Waysa talks.

If he talked like an actual twelve year old boy talked then there would be a lot more cock jokes in that book, instead of 'finding your true self'

I would not like to jump to conclusions, but there is a commonly used trope about Native Americans being the ones with spiritual knowledge, and helping the main character through whatever they are going through.

Mr Beatty almost never mentions any outside sources for Waysa

In the second book, when I looked at the authors note/where he thanks those who have helped them, it makes no mention of any sort of Native American outside help in his depiction of Waysa. He doesn't even aknowledge the Cherokee tribe.

I truly hope he did some sort of research, however I doubt it. in the book trailer, a person depicting Waysa is never seen. All of the other white charecters are shown, but Waysa...its like he's invisble. In all of the book trailers, we never see any sort of depiction of him. There is almost no official or fanart of Waysa, which I take from people not wanting to be accidentally being offensive. I've looked through Mr. Beattys socials, and I have found no video or post of him explaining who or what inspired him to create waysa, making me believe that he was just put in to fill a quota. in the third book, he dose mention some outside help, stating:

"I would like to thank the Eastern Band of the Cherokee Indian (EBCI), the museum of the Cherokee Indian, western north Carolina university, and the members of the Cherokee tribe for their assistance with the depiction of Waysa, the Cherokee people, and the kituhwa dialect of the Cherokee language that is spoken here is mountains of Western North Caroline."

I would like to note that I am not blaming the members who had helped on the depiction of Waysa, I do not think of myself better in any way to depict him, I am just saying the way Waysas character could have interacted on the world a lot better, and could have opened up the discussion on how we have changed in terms of race as a society between young people reading this book. 

[crash-hawk]

It’s still Real Passerine Brainrot Hours around here, if for no other reason than I’m still in the middle of writing fic for it, but I cannot stop thinking about that brief moment in time where 5/5 Pass!Feral Boys must have been a thing.

Just...these two oddball mortals encounter these three old gods wandering about the countryside one day and decide, for whatever reason to attach themselves like barnacles, which is met with no small amount of confusion and suspicion at first, but they make the three gods laugh and before they know it everyone is capital-A Attached.

Which of course hits Dream right in the Panic button.

And then Sapnap makes the mistake of falling in love, and Dream--control-freak, reality warper Dream, whose greatest fear is losing his hold on the world and the people he sees as his, sees it happen.  Leading to this line, a line I feel like we as Passerine enjoyers do not talk about enough:

“Mortal hearts can only take so much hurt.” He gave a casual shrug of his shoulders. “Then again, immortal hearts aren’t much different, especially if they’ve been foolishly given to the wrong people. Take the war god, for example. The Angel of Death merely drove a sword through a heart already broken.” A flicker of a darker emotion—nameless, fleeting—crossed the Green God’s face, before his unnerving smile took center stage once more.

This line absolutely fucked me up the first time I read it, because the implications are crystal clear: Dream engineered Karl and Quackity’s deaths on purpose, in a classic Uriah Gambit, out of jealousy and the fear that he was losing one of his only true friends...and in doing so creates a self-fulfilling prophecy.  Instead of getting Sapnap back, he destroys him.

And George, poor George, gets to watch it all go down live.  Gets to watch Sapnap try to freeze himself in time holding the bodies of his dead lovers and then die trying to avenge them, projecting his hate onto someone who’s just as much a pawn in Dream’s games as he is because he can’t bring himself to touch the real perpetrator.  He gets to watch Dream’s people-puppet games become more and more unhinged as time goes on.  And in the end, he’s left alone next to Sapnap’s grave with Dream hauled off into the howling Void for eternity, wondering if loving anything is worth it when this is what it does to you.

Fuck.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Rumor Has It {Epilogue}

Chris Evans x Famous Reader Uriah “Riah” Tyler

Warning: Cursing, Plot, Fluff, 

Words: 2.2k

Summary: You and Chris have been married for four years after a whirlwind romance. You are both happy and trying to navigate marriage in the public eye while balancing your successful careers. In the entertainment industry, not everything is as it seems, the flash of a camera lens impairs vision. As scandal and flashing lights put a strain on your once fairytale marriage is it possible your Hollywood marriage can stand the test of the rumor mill?

**Inspired by a video seen of Chris and his co-star Ana De Armas on their press tour for Knives Out at TIFF where she kept touching his chest and face standing about five inches apart.

NOTE: DO NOT COME FOR ME. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION.

**Loosely Edited/Proofread**

Thank you guys for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊❤️❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If the public ripped Chris a new asshole when the odds seemed ever not in his favor, they massacred Ana once the facts were revealed. When it came out just how low Ana had gone in her efforts to get your husband, the world turned into a colder place. The tabloids ran endless pieces on what a horrible person she was. They were relentless when it came to nitpicking not just her behavior and actions, but they even went in on her acting. You could have said you felt bad for her, but you didn’t. Not one bit.

 The support that came out for you and Chris was heartwarming. Everyone seemed to want to wrap the two of you in a cocoon of support and love. You received well-wishes from fans and supporters, and even celebs sent floral arrangements, all expressing their support for you. The narrative that was spun was the diabolical plot of Ana and jilted ex Christiano who concocted a plot that was to end with Ana getting Chris and Christiano kidnapping you. Most of the details were released to the press, though you and Chris had both tried to keep as much of it under wraps as possible. Neither one of you wanted to continue dealing with it. You just wanted to move forward and focus on better things—happier things.

 Because Christiano had broken into your home and attempted to cause harm to its residents, Chris’s actions were seen as self-defense, and Chrisnao’s death ruled an accidental result of self-defense. Though the White family were distraught once they were faced with the severity of Christiano’s actions and continued plans, they didn’t have the heart to put you through any further trauma. You’d suspected it was Christina’s doing, and a floral arrangement from her a few weeks after the incident proved your suspicions.

 You’d been friends with her first, and it was a friendship that survived the end of your relationship with Christiano. This was her way of letting it be known that her brother did wrong. A month after the incident, her statement shed light on Christiano’s mental health and revealed he’d been struggling for several years since the break-up. She made no apologies for his actions and didn’t try to make him seem like a victim. She was adamant about letting the full truth be seen. She did offer an apology to you, Chris, your families, and your children.

 For her part in the plot, her actions of physically trying to kill you, not knowing you pregnant at the time, was what sealed Ana’s fate. She was sentenced to jail, and it wasn’t entirely the sentence of a privileged woman. It was one of a criminal who showed no remorse for their actions. She was given nine years behind bars, and because she was living and working in the US on a visa rather than citizenship, after the completion of her sentence, she would be deported to Spain. 

Even film studios were distancing themselves from her at record speed. All the roles she had been considered for quickly changed their views and voiced wanting you to have the roles. It was sort of poetic to you. She hated you because you were black, and you didn’t deserve all you had, including your career and husband. In the end, she was the absolute furthest from your husband, and now everything that was hers would be yours.

 You and Chris were on a flight to Massachusetts two days after the incident. Neither of you were suspects; there was no reason for you to remain in LA, so you quietly packed up what you wanted and made arrangements to pack up the house for the foreseeable future, then went where both of you felt like you belonged. You left any details about your career plans to your manager to close. Everyone seemed to understand the want you had to step back from work and Hollywood, especially when the news was out that you were going to be parents.

 That was the only thing Chris seemed to care about. He was on a mission to keep you comfortable, happy, and taken care of. From the minute he carried you over the threshold of the home he’d built for you, it felt like a fresh start, a new beginning meant just for the five of you.

 He was there beside you every morning, patting your back as you vomited because of your morning sickness until you were four and a half months along. He was there for every single appointment. He read every book you did to prepare for the remainder of your pregnancy and life with twins. He was there preparing you lunch every afternoon, there massaging your feet and back at the end of every night. He was there to lather on the cocoa and shea butter to your growing belly. He was there to compliment every stretch mark you received because of your quickly stretching skin. He was there to kiss each of them while telling you how much he loved each and every tiger stripe, as he called them. He was even there for you when none of your clothes fit you, and he offered you all his cable-knit sweaters, hoodies, sweatpants, and button-downs.

 When your belly became so big you couldn’t see your feet; he put your shoes on for you. When you couldn’t get up without looking like a beached whale, Chris was there to carry you wherever you wanted to go. There rarely went an hour that went by where he didn’t strip you to worship your body as if you were his scripture, and he worshiped you and you alone. Not a day passed where you didn’t feel loved, desired, and protected.

 Through it all, you decided that therapy was beneficial and a powerful enough tool to bring you back together that you wanted to continue. Dr. Danquah was thrilled having the two of you as clients again and, because of your progress, saw no need for you to see her more than twice a month to keep the lines of communication and the roots of love and passion ever strong. The love you felt for Chris and the connection you felt to each other only deepened throughout your pregnancy.

 Just when you thought you couldn’t love him anymore, he did something to prove you wrong. Every day you found something more to love. If it wasn’t his fun-loving nature that was on display every time he played with Dodger, it was his outdoorsy adventurism with the way he bounded from the bed once the sun rose to drag you on another of his nature walks so he could photograph the trees or the hills. If it wasn’t his romantic side with how he prepared candlelit baths every night that posed as a prequel to dinner by candlelight and the most passionate session of lovemaking, it was his undercover, not so undercover freak antics with him wanting to christen every single room in the house and a few spots outdoors with your lovemaking. At nights when he thought you were sleeping, you heard him talking to the babies as he caressed your stomach. That was what you loved most. His sheer love, devotion, and adoration for his children and the strong protector that resided in him. he was the only one for you.

 “Push Riah.”

 “Don’t fucking tell me to push. You push!”

 Chris snorted, and you wanted to kill him. His hands rubbed your belly before he kissed your jaw from his position behind you in the tub in your bathroom.

 “I can push with you, but you have the babies in you. You have to show them the way.”

 You groaned, and it echoed in the hallowed bathroom.

 “You can do this, Uriah,” Lisa encouraged, giving your shoulder a firm squeeze.

 You looked across to your mother, who nodded, hoping to steel your nerve. Chris kissed your ear.

“Come on, dragonfly. You got this. Bring our babies into the world so we can spoil them.”

 And you can change all the poop diapers?”

 Chris snorted again. “I don’t recall making any such promise.”

 You squeezed his hand with everything you had. He groaned and hissed from the pain.

 “Ah, ah, wow. Okay, I see my error. Yes, all poop diapers that you don’t want.” You released his hand, letting him relax somewhat.

 “Use that, baby. I know it’s hard. I know it hurts, and I’m sorry.”

 “This is your fault,” you pointedly accused.

 “Yes. My fault. I take full blame. I’m sorry.”

 “You owe me so big for this, Evans.”

 He nodded, agreeing with you. that was when the pain intensified at levels that made you regret choosing a natural birth at home.

 “Oh fuckity, fuck. So big, Evans!”

 “You’re crowning. Do you want to come over here and catch your baby, dad?”

 Chris moved from behind you and got into position between your legs. His eyes widened, clearly seeing the baby’s head. The excitement around you was palpable, and it gave you a burst of energy to get the baby out. You grabbed your knees, hunkered down, and pushed because whether you were supposed to or not. Your scream was loud, and the screams of those around you picked up. They shouted to you, encouraging you to keep going and not to stop. The look on Chris's face suddenly changed, and you saw the tears in his eyes.

 “Oh my god, Riah, I can—I can see—oh baby, I can see a face. come on, Dragonfly, one more push.”

 You screeched out and fought through the intense burning you felt, and in seconds the crying of a baby echoed in the bathroom.

 “Aah, oh my god, Riah, it’s a girl. She’s here,” Chris elated as tears rolled down his cheeks.

 You smiled widely as Chris held your daughter and cut her umbilical cord before he placed her on your chest.

 “Oh my god!”

 She was perfect, with a full head of hair that was the color of Chris’s and cheeks so plump you were tempted to pinch them. You only had a moment to place a kiss on her forehead before you felt another stab of pain that made you shout again. The second midwife took the baby from you so you could focus on pushing out her sister.

 “She’s right there, Uriah. You’re doing incredible, baby,” your mother informed.

 “I’m thinking three good pushes, Uriah.  When you feel the urge, push.

 You instantly felt the urge to push and returned to your previous position and pushed as hard as you could. This push was just as painful as the first one, but you felt this push accomplished more.

 “Good push, her head is out. One more, and she’ll be out,” your first midwife said.

 The look on everyone's face was one of anxiety and excitement. The sounds of your first daughter’s cries had died down, and the only thing that could be heard in the room was your panting, screeching, and grunting.

 “Fuuuuuck!”

 You managed to push your daughter out, and her cries filled the bathroom. Soon, it was not one baby crying but both of them.

 “You did it!”

 Lisa and your mother both kissed your cheeks and forehead, happily congratulating you and telling you how well you’d done while the midwives cleaned the babies to bring them to you. When Chris came up beside you, your mothers backed away, giving you a few moments together. Chris kissed your forehead.

 “You’re incredible. You did so good, dragonfly. I’m so proud of you.” He kissed you once, then twice, and nuzzled his nose against yours.

 “I love you so much.”

 “Did someone order two perfect babies?”

 The midwives placed your daughters in your arms.

 “This is baby A; she was born first and her sister.”

 Your tears flowed freely as so much emotion filled you. Love in it’s purest form washed over you.

 “Chris. They’re beautiful.”

 “Of course they are. They look just like you,” Chris said, kissing your temple.

 A comfortable silence fell between you as you admired your newborn daughters.

 “Any decision on names?”

 You smiled and ran your thumb across the baby’s brow in your arm.

 “Yeah. How do you feel about Nova and Rae?”

 Chris’s face lit up as his smile spread so wide that you wondered if his face would split in two.

 “I love them. Nova and Rae Evans,” he uttered. You nodded and couldn’t help but choke up, seeing the emotion on his face.

 “Chasing dragonflies,” he whispered the meanings of the names you’d discussed weeks ago before his lips met yours for a tender kiss.

 With his forehead pressed to yours, he whispered again. “Rumor has it you’re going to be an amazing mom.”

 You smiled and looked at him before pressing your lips to his for a quick kiss. “Rumor has it you’re a DILF.”

 Chris laughed so loud it startled your babies, making them stir and cry. You joined in laughing with him, unable to keep your sublime happiness under wraps any longer.

 “Rumor has it you two will have siblings in record time,” Lisa said slightly above a whisper.

 Everyone in the room laughed, not knowing how true those were most likely were. You and Chris gazed at each other with longing and love in your eyes. When Chris kissed you again, this time taking his time to do it properly, completely and heartily, you knew his mother’s words would be the truest spoken.  

                                             The End!!!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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@unknownmystery22 @thatcrazymarvelfan @mizcaptainwidow @angrybirdcr @cherrystainedlipsbaby @marvelfansworld @fanfictionaffair @kemkem101 @blowmymbackout @almostpurelysmut @blackgurlkillinit @simply-heaven @impossiblegiantrebelbasketball @renfrewscorner @choices97 @phreshouttherunwaaayy @heladoom @alyxkbrl @evemej @queensevansackles @rosey1981 @laketaj24 @munteanhore @minton131 @trillistb @night-of-the-living-shred @chrisevansfanfic @scoop93535 @miss-jackson500 @purplehairgawdess @ollieveracity @maddeningmayhem @what-is-your-plan-today @tantricevans @evermcfearless @richonne4life @dumbchick @toni9 @briellableu @amennariee @rynabarnesrogers-reading @chrissbabybunny @brwnsugababe @queenshikongo3 @sadishdelray @what-is-your-plan-today @islanddgal @reignandrain @liquorlaughslove @thefuckingluxury @surmya1907 @maeleeme @queenoftheworldisdead @coolbakeryprunetoad @naturalthrone22 @wonderlandfandomkingdom @starlite-starbrite @offrostandstarlight @zeedaye @partypoison00 @thejeneralvicinity  @littlepreciousangel @doublesidedscoobysnacks

@imthatbitchsworld @soul–notforsale @toni9 @someone-really-bored @venustrap04 @chrisevansdaddycap @kittykatlow @live-laugh-love-ki @asiaaisa77 @melanicia @fistmetonystark @livinglifeformemyselfandi @crowngold @allnamesicouldthinkofweretaken @lost- ssoull @give-me-a-million-dollars-pls​ @shar74nett @cltex84 @badbitchhtown @petty-bitch-akira​ @unknownmystery22​ @raveviolet @madixii @almosttherebutnot @rainbowkisses31​​ @smediumsmeatbae @bernie-k @nina1800 @nervousninjatheorist @lo-cheu @creole-mami @acciolove724 @shipatheart @captainchrisstan @ramp-it-up @bforbbgirl @brownskinafro @jhayes6984 @badbo1-evans @msblkfire84 @jovanaprime @poshgirl2 @marvelatthis30 @littlepreciousangel @youremysuperstar @alookintohersoul @cleopatra-knowles​ @xsweetdellzx @cxmfort​ @i-just-like-fanfics @storiestoldbyjazz @jennmurawski13 @imthewarmpenguininthemiddle @ak329​

@koko-michelle @sophiasotherdaughter @maeleeme  @mauvecherie​ @jbrizzywrites​

***There are a few that are bold that I tried to tag but your @ wasn’t coming up. I’m not sure why. Please check that you are taggable. I’m sorry.***

[cityoftheangelllls]

My Personal Tier Chart Ranking of Some Classic Rock Bands

Here are the bands listed, in order of their ranking:

ABSOLUTE LEGENDS THAT WILL NEVER BE TOPPED EVER (my absolute favorite groups):

Queen

Electric Light Orchestra

ABBA

Styx

Jefferson Starship

The Beatles

Toto

Heart

(Paul McCartney and) Wings

Fleetwood Mac

The Doors

Hall and Oates

Genesis

Yeah!! Really Good!

The Cars

Foreigner

The Eagles

Duran Duran

The Scorpions

Led Zeppelin

Uriah Heep

Van Halen

The Doobie Brothers

Bad Company

Huey Lewis and the News

Crosby, Stills, Nash (and Young)

The Raspberries (I've always been partial to them since Jim Bonfanti, the drummer, is my great uncle)

Manfred Mann's Earth Band

The Jimi Hendrix Experience

America

The Police

Creedence Clearwater Revival

REO Speedwagon

The Alan Parsons Project

Supertramp

Cream

The Guess Who

Yes

The Moody Blues

The Little River Band

Ehhhhhhhh They're Okay:

The Rolling Stones (never really got myself into them but I do like a few of their songs, including Miss You, Jumping Jack Flash, and Paint it Black)

Rush (still trying to get a little more into this band since I've discovered some stuff of theirs that I really like, also the late Neil Peart is a fantastic drummer and although Geddy Lee's voice takes some getting used to, he doesn't sound as bad as many people make him out to be)

Kansas

Aerosmith (I honestly find them overrated and overplayed, especially freaking Dream On and I Don't Want to Miss a Thing, although I do really like Same Old Song and Dance, Back in the Saddle, and Angel)

Pink Floyd (I now like them a little more than I used to, when I thought they were incredibly bland, and I think the album The Wall is a masterpiece)

The Who

Deep Purple

Grand Funk Railroad

Steve Miller Band (I hear their hits WAY TOO MUCH on the radio, especially The Joker, which I positively fucking hate, but they honestly aren't too bad, and their stuff from the late 60s, like Space Cowboy, is definitely overlooked)

Thin Lizzy (The Boys Are Back in Town is my favorite of theirs atm, I haven't really found anything of theirs that lives up to that but I still enjoy listening to it)

Steely Dan

Jethro Tull (a lot of their songs are pretty decent, and if there was ever a hard rock band that could masterfully blend in the flute, then this was it. Locomotive Breath still slaps)

The Yardbirds

U2 (again, never really got into them, although I love Bono's voice)

Journey (ISTFG if I hear Don't Stop Believing one more goddamn time I'm going to rip the whole radio out of my car and toss it out the window. But seriously, I would have genuinely enjoyed that song if they didn't overplay it to the point where it's grating on my ears. I never was a huge fan of Journey in general, although I do like Stone in Love, Who's Crying Now, Girl Can't Help It, and City of the Angels (my blog's namesake!))

Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers (Tom Petty (RIP)'s voice has never been one that I've absolutely loved, but he still did put out some great songs, like Breakdown, You Got Lucky, Mary Jane's Last Dance, and Refugee)

Don't Really Like But Will Listen To (and by that, I mean I only like one or two of their songs, or if I'm stuck in a waiting room or something and genuinely don't have a choice)

AC/DC (never really liked their sound, only song of theirs I genuinely like is Highway to Hell, although I think Angus Young is a fantastic guitarist and Bon Scott was one of the greatest rock band frontmen, it's a shame we lost him so soon)

KISS (all their songs except for Beth pretty much sound the same and it's pretty irritating, although I still find them listenable. I do like I Was Made for Loving You, but that's pretty much it)

The B-52s (Love Shack is one of the cheesiest and most obnoxious songs I have ever heard and I immediately change the station when it comes on. A lot of their other stuff isn't really enjoyable for me either, but I do like Roam)

Bon Jovi (Livin on a Prayer is right up there with Don't Stop Believing as one of the most overplayed and annoying 80s anthems ever. Along with that, I just never really liked their overall sound or Jon Bon Jovi's voice, although I do like Runaway)

Lynyrd Skynyrd (Simple Man and What's Your Name are okay but I just never really cared for this band. I also can't take Sweet Home Alabama seriously anymore because of how it became meme material)

ZZ Top (I never really enjoyed their sound that much, I also can't take them seriously anymore because of how my mother once said they looked like a group of child m*lesters)

The Beach Boys (their musical catalogue is almost purely 60s surfer corniness and that's not really my cup of tea, and I don't really like that many of their songs to be considered a fan. I do love Good Vibrations and Little Saint Nick though)

The Monkees (I just never really got into this group to the point where I genuinely enjoy their music, sorry)

The Kinks (Catch Me Now I'm Falling may be the only song I enjoy by them, really. Also, I think Lola is incredibly obnoxious)

DO NOT LIKE, PERIOD:

Guns and Roses (sorry, but I just cannot get past Axl Rose's whiny, screechy vocals, and I want to rip out my eardrums whenever I hear anything by them, especially their cover of Live and Let Die and the two songs they always play on the radio, Welcome to the Jungle and Sweet Child O' Mine)

Dire Straits (I just do not like the sound of this group at all, I'd much rather be listening to music from Sesame Street)

Talking Heads (they're just awful IMO, and Burning Down the House is one of my least favorite songs from the 80s)

Red Hot Chili Peppers (again, awful and really tacky)

The Ramones (I never liked their sound, and from what I've heard, all their songs are repetitive and bland and they sound really unenergetic, but maybe that's just me)

**Please keep in mind that this is solely based on my opinion, and I don't expect any of you to agree with me 100%. Please don't be rude when replying or reblogging, thank you!**

[willreadforbooze]

Hello fellow boozie readers!

Sam’s Update:

I just had The Best time at the beach with my friends celebrating Parker and I’s 30th birthdays. THE BEST. But I also didn’t read much, was busy drinking my face off. I want to give a HUGE shout out to our Chief Instagram Officer (CIO) and Master Beach Week Planner Extraordinaire. She planned the best trip and I couldn’t have done it without her. It’s also Medieval-a-thon!!! Check my TBR here.

What Sam finished this week:

Medieval-a-thon Sword: The Heartwood Crown by Matt Mikalatos: THIS BOOK WAS DELIGHTFUL. Stand by for my drunk review. I loved book one, here’s my review of The Crescent Stone.

What Sam’s reading now:

Medieval-a-thon Cape: Kingdom of the Blazing Phoenix by Julie C. Dao: This is the follow up to Forest of a Thousand Lanterns. I suppose I’m almost done but /shrug emoji/ don’t care so don’t know.

Medieval-a-thon Crown: The Dragon Republic by R.F. Kuang: You guys I cannot even tell you how happy I was when I was approved for this on Netgalley. I’d forgotten how much I like the writing style. But I’m only 15% through or so.

Ginny’s Update:

Happy Belated Fourth Of July! We all went to the beach this weekend and now I need like three full days to sleep. Surprisingly not as much reading at the beach as I was expecting. Still, I managed to finish a couple of things.

Currently Reading

A Gentleman Never Keeps Score by Cat Sebastian: I really enjoy Cat Sebastians books. This one is good so far. Hartley Sedgewick worked his way into society and then was ostracized when his relationship with his godfather came to light. Sam is a ex-fighter current bar-owner and a free black man in Europe. They both try so hard to help people and (insert cheesy voice here) end up helping each other

Finished

Becoming by Michelle Obama: Man, Michelle Obama is so freaking great. And boy did this book make me super nostalgic. I’m not going to argue that Obama’s time in office was perfect, but man I miss having a group in charge where the biggest public scandal was the President wearing a tan suit. Even outside the presidency, Michelle Obama sounds like a force to be reckoned with. Her work in Chicago with various non-profits and the way she cares about the people around her were great. 5/5

The Unlikely Escape of Uriah Heep by H.G. Parry: Welp, I wrote a review of this so give it enough time and eventually you’ll get to see it. Preview, I enjoyed this but boy did I feel like I was missing some literature history.

The Luminous Dead by Caitlin Starling: This book was incredibly interesting. Gyre lives on a planet thats good for mining and nothing else. She takes a desperate case that leads her deep under the planets surface only to find out she’s basically on a suicide mission with only one team member on the surface to help keep her alive. Also the cave does really weird things to people. I’m pretty sure I”m going to write a review once I’ve had more time to think.

Crazy Cupid Love  by Amanda Heger: Man, I picked this up cause it ended up on some list somewhere but it wasn’t super my jam. First off, there’s a lot of cupids which means there’s definitely some consent issues in this book. I did like the mystery but the foreshadowing was a little bit much. and dear god, the epilogue. I get it, thanks for not needing a sequel but literally every character in teh book ends up perfectly partnered up. It was weird. 3/5

Minda’s Update:

Did not end up getting much reading done, but had so much fun celebrating Sam’s 30th!

What Minda is reading now:

Tiger Queen by Annie Sullivan – About half way in thanks to some poolside/beachside reading! Liking so far though some weird decisions from our heroine.

Gravemaidens by Kelly Coon – No further on this 🤷🏻‍♀️

Linz’s Update:

Editor’s Note: Linz was also at the beach. Linz planned the whole trip. Linz is queen. No wrap-up for her.

Until next time, we remain forever drunkenly yours,

Sam, Melinda, Linz, and Ginny

Weekly Wrap-Up: July 1-8, 2019 Hello fellow boozie readers! Sam's Update: I just had The Best time at the beach with my friends celebrating Parker and I's 30th birthdays.

[victoriagloverstuff]

40 of the Best Villains in Literature

Villains are the best. We may not love them in our lives, but they’re often the best part of our literature—on account of their clear power, their refusal of social norms, and most importantly, their ability to make stories happen. After all, if everyone was always nice and good and honest all the time, literature probably wouldn’t even exist.

To that end, below are a few of my favorites from the wide world of literary villainy. But what exactly does “best” mean when it comes to bad guys (and gals)? Well, it might mean any number of things here: most actually terrifying, or most compelling, or most well-written, or most secretly beloved by readers who know they are supposed to be rooting for the white hats but just can’t help it. It simply depends on the villain. Think of these as noteworthy villains, if it clarifies things.

This is not an exhaustive list, of course, and you are more than invited to nominate your own favorite evildoers in the comments section. By the way, for those of you who think that great books can be spoiled—some of them might be below. After all, the most villainous often take quite a few pages to fully reveal themselves.

Mitsuko, Quicksand, Junichiro Tanizaki

The brilliance of Mitsuko (and the brilliance of this novel) is such that, even by the end, you’re not sure how much to despise her. She is such an expert manipulator, such a re-threader of the truth, that she is able to seduce everyone in her path (read: not only Sonoko but Sonoko’s husband) and get them to like it. Including the reader, of course. In the end, Sonoko is still so devoted to her that the grand tragedy of her life is the fact that Mitsu did not allow her to die alongside her.

Mr. Hyde, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Robert Louis Stevenson

Because the very worst villain is . . . get this . . . actually inside you. Also, you just fell asleep one time and when you woke up it was your evil id and not you? We’ve heard that one before. (So has Buffy.)

Infertility, The Children of Men, P. D. James

Sure, Xan is also a villain in this novel. But the real, big-picture villain, the thing that causes everything to dissolve, and people to start christening their kittens and pushing them around in prams, has to be the global disease that left all the men on earth infertile.

The shark, Jaws, Peter Benchley

A villain so villainous that (with the help of Steven Spielberg) it spawned a wave of shark paranoia among beach-goers. In fact, Benchley, who also wrote the screenplay for the film, was so horrified at the cultural response to his work that he became a shark conservationist later in life.

The kid, The Giving Tree, Shel Silverstein

Take, take, take. This kid is the actual worst.

Professor Moriarty, “The Final Problem,” Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

A criminal mastermind— “the Napoleon of Crime,” as Holmes puts it—and the only person to ever give the good consulting detective any real trouble (other than himself). Though after countless adaptations, we now think of Moriarty as Holmes’s main enemy, Doyle really only invented him as a means to kill his hero, and he isn’t otherwise prominent in the series. Moriarty has become bigger than Moriarty.

Mrs. Danvers, Rebecca, Daphne du Maurier

The housekeeper so devoted to her dead ex-mistress that she’s determined to keep her memory alive—by goading her boss’s new wife to jump out of the window to her death. That’s one way to do it, I suppose.

Vanity, The Picture of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde

You could argue that it’s Harry who corrupts Dorian, and James who stalks and tries to murder him, but the real source of all this young hedonist’s problems is his own self-obsession. Sometimes I like to think about what this novel would be like if someone wrote it today, with Dorian as a social media star. . .

Uriah Heep, David Copperfield, Charles Dickens

Few villains are quite so aggressively ugly as Uriah Heep (even the name! Dickens did not go in much for subtlety). When we first meet him, he is described as a “cadaverous” man, “who had hardly any eyebrows, and no eyelashes, and eyes of a red-brown, so unsheltered and unshaded, that I remember wondering how he went to sleep. He was high-shouldered and bony; dressed in decent black, with a white wisp of a neckcloth; buttoned up to the throat; and had a long, lank, skeleton hand.” Some Dickens scholars apparently think that Heep was based on Hans Christian Andersen, in which case, mega burn—unless Andersen was into heavy metal.

The Grand Witch, The Witches, Roald Dahl

As “the most evil woman in creation,” she is on a mission to torture and kill as many children as possible, and often uses murder as a focusing device in meetings. She’s also kind of brilliant—I mean, murdering children by turning them into animals their parents want to exterminate? I have to say, that’s smart.

Cathy Ames, East of Eden, John Steinbeck

Cathy Ames is cold as ice—a sociopath who had to learn as a child how to mimic feelings to get by—but soon also learns how easy it is to manipulate, destroy lives, and murder people to amuse herself. Apparently all this is available to her because of her remarkable beauty. In the end, she has a single feeling of remorse and promptly kills herself.

Mr. Rochester, Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë

That’s right, I said it. Mired in self-pity! Sullen and annoying! Dresses up as a gypsy to mess with Jane’s mind! Keeps his first wife locked in the attic! Thinks he can marry a nice girl like Jane anyway! Gaslights her constantly! Whatever.

Zenia, The Robber Bride, Margaret Atwood

In Atwood’s retelling of the Grimm fairy tale “The Robber Bridegroom,” an evil temptress named Zenia steals the partners of three women (among many, one presumes). Roz, Charis, and Tony, however, use their mutual hurt and hatred to form a friendship—and unpack the many lies and revisions of herself Zenia has offered to each of them. But I can’t really put it better than Lorrie Moore did in a 1993 review of the novel:

Oddly, for all her inscrutable evil, Zenia is what drives this book: she is impossibly, fantastically bad. She is pure theater, pure plot. She is Richard III with breast implants. She is Iago in a miniskirt. She manipulates and exploits all the vanities and childhood scars of her friends (wounds left by neglectful mothers, an abusive uncle, absent dads); she grabs at intimacies and worms her way into their comfortable lives, then starts swinging a pickax. She mobilizes all the wily and beguiling art of seduction and ingratiation, which she has been able to use on men, and she directs it at women as well. She is an autoimmune disorder. She is viral, self-mutating, opportunistic (the narrative discusses her in conjunction with AIDS, salmonella and warts). She is a “man-eater” run amok. Roz thinks: “Women don’t want all the men eaten up by man-eaters; they want a few left over so they can eat some themselves.”

Becky Sharp, Vanity Fair, William Makepeace Thackeray

A cynical, manipulative, intelligent beauty with many artistic talents and a premium can-do attitude at her disposal. You’ve never met a more dedicated hustler. By the end, the novel seems to judge her pretty harshly—but I’ve always loved her.

Henry, The Secret History, Donna Tartt

Oh, Henry—brooding, brilliant, bone-tired Henry. Some in the Lit Hub office argued that it was Julian who was the real villain in Donna Tartt’s classic novel of murder and declension, but I give Henry more credit than that. His villainy is in his carefulness, his coldness, his self-preservation at all costs. He is terrifying because we all know him—or someone who could oh-so-easily slide into his long overcoat, one winter’s night.

Hubris, almost all of literature but let’s go with Jurassic Park, Michael Crichton

Isn’t it awesome? We can just make dinosaurs! There is no foreseeable problem with this. We can totally handle it.

Arturo, Geek Love, Katherine Dunn

Here’s another novel with multiple candidates for Supreme Villain—should it be the Binewski parents, who purposefully poison themselves and their children in order to populate their freak show? Or should it be Mary Lick, a sort of modern millionaire version of Snow White’s Evil Queen, who pays pretty women to disfigure themselves? I think we have to go with Arturo the Aqua Boy, the beflippered narcissist who grows into a cult leader, encouraging his followers to slowly pare away their body parts in a search for “purity.” (But for the record, it’s all of the above.)

Dr. Frankenstein, Frankenstein, Mary Shelley

It’s true that the monster is the murderer in Shelley’s classic novel—and also, you know, a monster—but it’s Dr. Frankenstein who decided he had to play God and build a creature in his own image without thought to the possible ramifications! Shelley treats him as a tragic figure, but that only makes him a much more interesting villain.

Hannibal Lecter, Red Dragon, The Silence of the Lambs, etc., Thomas Harris

Made iconic by Anthony Hopkins, of course, but made brilliant and terrifying—a serial killing psychiatrist cannibal, come on—by Thomas Harris. “They don’t have a name for what he is.” Also, he has six fingers—though they’re on his left hand, so it couldn’t have been him who killed Mr. Montoya. Still, it puts him in rare company.

Captain Ahab, Moby-Dick, Herman Melville

Did you think the villain was the whale? The villain is not the whale—it’s the megalomaniac at the helm.

Lady Macbeth, Macbeth, William Shakespeare

The villainess of choice for every man who has ever claimed his wife made him do it. But I’ve always found Lady Macbeth more interesting than Macbeth himself—she’s the brains behind the operation, not to mention the ambition. Her sleepwalking scene is one of the best and most famous of all of Shakespeare’s plays. Even this makes me shiver:

Out, damned spot! out, I say!—One: two: why, then, ’tis time to do’t.—Hell is murky!—Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier, and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account?—Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him.

Sand, The Woman in the Dunes, Kobo Abe

It may be the devious villagers who trick the poor etymologist into the sand pit, but it is the sand itself that is the main antagonist in this slim and wonderful novel. The sand that keeps coming, and must be shoveled back. The sand that constantly threatens to swallow everything: first the man, then the woman, then the village—though one assumes the villagers would replace him before that happened. Sand.

Suburban Ennui, Revolutionary Road, Richard Yates

In everyone’s favorite horror novel about America in the ’50s, onetime bohemians Frank and April Wheeler move to the ‘burbs, and find it. . . extremely stifling. But it’s not the suburbs exactly but the Wheelers’ inability to understand one another, their fear, their creeping, cumulative despair, that are the forces of destruction here.

“The book was widely read as an antisuburban novel, and that disappointed me,” Yates said in a 1972 interview.

The Wheelers may have thought the suburbs were to blame for all their problems, but I meant it to be implicit in the text that that was their delusion, their problem, not mine. . . I meant it more as an indictment of American life in the 1950s. Because during the fifties there was a general lust for conformity all over this country, by no means only in the suburbs—a kind of blind, desperate clinging to safety and security at any price, as exemplified politically in the Eisenhower administration and the Joe McCarthy witch-hunts. Anyway, a great many Americans were deeply disturbed by all that—felt it to be an outright betrayal of our best and bravest revolutionary spirit—and that was the spirit I tried to embody in the character of April Wheeler. I meant the title to suggest that the revolutionary road of 1776 had come to something very much like a dead end in the fifties.

David Melrose, Never Mind, Edward St. Aubyn

Fathers don’t get much worse than David Melrose: cruel, brutal, and snobbish, a man who enjoyed humiliating his wife, who raped his young son, and who seemed to doom all those close to him to a life of pain. You could also argue that the British Aristocracy is the villain in the Patrick Melrose books, but . . . David is definitely worse (if slightly less all-encompassing).

Tom Ripley, The Talented Mr. Ripley, Patricia Highsmith

Here’s a villain you can’t help but root for—I mean, sort of. You feel his pain as he tries to insinuate himself into the life of the man he so admires (and perhaps loves), and as he is first welcomed and then pushed away. Less so when he murders his beloved and assumes his identity—but somehow, as you read, you find yourself holding your breath around every corner, hoping he will escape yet again.

Rufus Weylin, Kindred, Octavia Butler

As slaveowners go, Rufus isn’t the worst (his father might rank) but he isn’t the best, either. He’s selfish and ignorant, and (like most men of the time) a brutal racist and misogynist, who doesn’t mind raping women as long as they act like they like it. Actually, the fact that he thinks he’s better than his father actually makes him worse. That said, the real antagonist in this novel might actually be the unknown and unexplained force that keeps transporting Dana from her good life in 1976 California to a Maryland slave plantation in 1815. What’s that about?

Nurse Ratched, One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest, Ken Kesey

Big Nurse rules the patients of the asylum ward with an iron fist. She is addicted to order and power, and can be quite cruel in commanding it. In comes McMurphy, our hero, who wants to undercut her. He does undercut her, in fact, a number of times—but when he goes too far, she has him lobotomized. The end! I know Ratched is meant to be evil, and it’s supposed to be depressing that she wins, but I can’t help but sort of like the fact that after a man chokes her half to death and rips off her shirt in an attempt to humiliate her (because no one with breasts can have power, you see!), she simply has him put down.

The Prison-industrial complex, The Mars Room, Rachel Kushner

Who is really the villain in Rachel Kushner’s most recent novel? It can’t be Romy; serving a life sentence for killing a man who was stalking her. It can’t be the man himself, who didn’t quite understand what he was doing. It can’t be any of the prisoners, nor any of the guards in particular. Nor is this a book with no villain, because the pulsing sense of injustice is too great. It is the whole thing, every aspect, of the American prison system—meant to catch you and bleed you and keep you and bring you back—that is the true villain in this novel (and often, in real life).

Big Brother, 1984, George Orwell

Of course it’s O’Brien who does most of the dirty work—but it’s Big Brother (be he actual person or nebulous invented concept) that really, um, oversees the evil here.

Patrick Bateman, American Psycho, Bret Easton Ellis

He’s a shallow, narcissistic, greedy investment banker, and also a racist, a misogynist, an anti-Semite and a homophobe, and also a sadist and a murderer and a cannibal and Huey Lewis devotee. He’s also weirdly pathetic. Can’t really get any worse than that as a person—but as a character, he’s endlessly entertaining.

The General, The Autumn of the Patriarch, Gabriel García Márquez

It’s José Ignacio Saenz de la Barra who is the most bloodthirsty, but the unnamed General (of the Universe) who is the most compelling villain in this novel: an impossibly long-lived tyrant who has borderline-magical control over the populace, and even the landscape, whose roses open early because, tired of darkness, he has declared the time changed; who sells away the sea to the Americans. He is desperately unhappy; he considers himself a god. Luckily, we get to spend almost the entire novel within his twisting brain.

Humbert Humbert, Lolita, Vladimir Nabokov

The genius of old Hum is how compelling he is—that is, despite the horrible thing he spends the entire novel doing (kidnapping a young girl whose mother he has murdered, driving her around the country and coaxing her into sexual acts, self-flagellating and self-congratulating in equal measure), you are charmed by him, half-convinced, even, by his grand old speeches about Eros and the power of language. In the end, of course, no amount of fancy prose style is enough to make you forget that he’s a murderer and worse, but for this reader, it’s pure pleasure getting there.

Ridgeway, The Underground Railroad, Colson Whitehead

The slave-hunting Ridgeway, Whitehead writes, “was six and a half feet tall, with the square face and thick neck of a hammer. He maintained a serene comportment at all times but generated a threatening atmosphere, like a thunderhead that seems far away but then is suddenly overhead with a loud violence.” He’s a little more interesting and intelligent than a simple brute—in part due to that sidekick of his—which only makes him more frightening as a character. Tom Hardy is a shoo-in for the adaptation.

Annie Wilkes, Misery, Stephen King

Listen: Annie Wilkes is a fan. She’s a big fan. She loves Paul Sheldon’s novels about Misery Chastain, and she is devastated to discover—after rescuing Sheldon from a car wreck—that he has killed off her beloved character. Things do not then go well for Paul, because as it turns out, Annie is already a seasoned serial killer who is very handy (read: murderous) with household objects.

The Republic of Gilead, The Handmaid’s Tale, Margaret Atwood

The government that has taken control of America in the world of Atwood’s classic dystopia is a fundamentalist theocracy whose leaders have eliminated the boundary between church and state—and worse, have twisted religious principles and political power in an attempt to utterly subjugate all women, erasing their identities and allowing them to exist only so far as they may be of use to the state. It is super fucked up and exactly what I worry about in a country where fundamentalists have any among of political power.

The Earth, The Broken Earth series, N. K. Jemisin

It’s pretty hard to fight back when the thing you’re fighting is the earth itself, which punishes those who walk upon it with extreme, years-long “seasons” of dramatic and deadly climate change. Ah, Evil Earth!

Iago, Othello, William Shakespeare

The worst villain is the one who knows you best—the one you might even love. The scariest motive is the lack of one—what Coleridge called Iago’s “motiveless malignity.” The most interesting villain is the one who has even more lines than the titular hero. He is a fantastic villain, a dangerous trickster, whose character has stumped (and intrigued) critics for centuries.

Judge Holden, Blood Meridian, Cormac McCarthy

Possibly the most terrifying character in modern literature (or any literature?), Glanton’s deputy is over six feet tall and completely hairless. More importantly, despite the fact that he might be a genius, he inflicts senseless and remorseless violence wherever he goes. The man murders (and, it is suggested, rapes) children and throws puppies to their doom. He might actually be the devil—or simply evil itself. He never sleeps, the judge. He is dancing, dancing. He says that he will never die.

Slavery, Beloved, Toni Morrison

This entire novel is based on a single idea: that a loving mother might murder her baby daughter to save her from life as a slave. Sure, the slavers are bad (and the schoolteacher is particularly chilling). Sure, you could make an argument that the vengeful spirit Beloved’s presence is destructive, splintering further an already fractured family. But these are only symptoms, in this the Great American Novel, of the Great American Sin.

Satan, The Divine Comedy, Dante Alighieri

Good read found on the Lithub

[revjasonjnelson]

Covered in Mud

I don’t like getting dirty!  I never have.  Now don’t get me wrong-it’s not like I freak out whenever I get a little mud on my shoes or some fish slime and blood on my hands.   And I don’t mind working out in the yard (pulling weeds, mowing the lawn, or trimming trees) even if it means getting a little dirt under my finger nails and stains on my jeans.  I’ll do those sorts of things cause I have to (or in the case of fishing… because I love it)- but the truth, is I just don’t like getting dirty.  And that’s probably one of the reasons why I played quarterback between the ages of 6 and 22.  

See, we quarterbacks have one major goal in mind when it comes to playing football—stay off the ground; we want to walk off the field wearing a clean jersey.  Now, this was a pretty easy goal to meet during the week because every practice, as quarterback, I got to wear the red jersey.  Wearing the red jersey meant that no one was allowed to tackle me, or even hit me, which meant that I stayed off the ground, which meant that I never got dirty… but that was during practice.  On game days, it was a whole different story.  Quarterbacks don’t get to wear a red jersey on game days.

There was one game I played in back in November of 1998 that my college teammates still refer to as The Mud Bowl.  It was a Saturday afternoon; we were playing in Chicago and the temperature was like 39 degrees.  On top of that, it was pouring down rain.   Awful conditions… my jersey-did not stay clean.  By the end of the first quarter, I was completely drenched and so was the field.  It became so badly torn up and was transformed into one big mud pit.   On the very first play of the second quarter, I took the snap and rolled to the right to pass.  Now I’d like to tell you that I made some perfect, super star, prime time pass through the wind and the rain that was caught by my teammate for a touchdown.  I’d like to tell you that’s what happened, but that’s not what happened.  Just as I threw the ball, some linebacker hit me… hard!  So the ball flew about five yards over the receiver’s head and I went flying through the air.  I hit the ground hard and then went slip n’ sliding face down through the mud for about 8 yards.  

When I got up I was completely covered in mud, from head to toe.  I had mud in my helmet, mud in my hair, in my eyes, in my mouth, up my nose and down my pants.  And that wasn’t the only time that happened; and I wasn’t alone.  By halftime, every player on the field was soaking wet and caked in mud.  You should have seen the locker room at half time!  What a mess! There was mud everywhere.  My teammates were desperately trying to wipe themselves off with towels and rags and cloths (and whatever else they could find), which really didn’t help much and actually created more of a mess; some of them changed socks and put on fresh t-shirts; but even after that, they were all still shivering from the cold and still really, really dirty.  So at this point I looked around the locker room and thought to myself, “This is stupid!  If I’m going to be wet than I might as well be warm… and clean.”  

So I put my helmet back on, walked over and then into the locker room showers, and turned on the hot water.  For 15 minutes, with all my pads and equipment still on, I stood in the shower and let the free-flowing hot water from the shower warm my body and wash away all the mud that was on me the first half.  And as I watched the dirty water funnel to and then down the drain, I felt renewed and reinvigorated and ready to get back on the field.

On much greater scale, and in a deep spiritual sense, I can imagine this is how King David felt after God’s unfailing love and free-flowing mercy showered down upon him, washed away his iniquity and cleansed him from his sin.  See, David had also found himself covered in mud—the mud of his sin.  He had sinned against God, and in so many ways.  2 Samuel 11:27 says that David had “greatly displeased the Lord.” Uh… yeah!  You think?  That’s the understatement of the millennium!  David had immersed himself in sin.  He abused his royal powers and violated God’s commandments!  He lusted after Uriah’s wife, Bathsheba.  He coveted her; and then, he acted upon that sin and committed adultery with her.  When David found out she was pregnant with his child, he killed Uriah by sending him to the front lines of battle where “the fighting was the fiercest.”  Next, David covered all this up by making Bathsheba his wife; and then… he looked at the prophet Nathan and lied to Nathan’s face about all that he had done.  Wow!  This was one big pile of sin David stepped in!  How did it get so bad so fast?  Here’s how.  

David experienced the strong, natural progression of sin that first begins after it penetrates an unguarded, unprotected mind.  See, instead of setting his mind on God and the things of God, David carelessly allowed his mind to wander aimlessly and recklessly.  This is dangerous!  It’s dangerous because when the human mind is unguarded, unprotected, when it’s allowed to wander aimlessly and recklessly, when it’s not completely surrendered to God on a daily basis, then the unthinkable will become the thinkable, the thinkable will become the talkable and the talkable will become the doable.  This is what David experienced.  He got caught up in this movement, this progression of sin!  He rode the waves of this tsunami of sin; he fell face first into the mud pits of life.  Fortunately for David, God used Nathan to help David see the errors of his actions and his thoughts; and once David’s eyes were opened to the reality of his wickedness, he realized that he was covered in the ashes of his sin, coated with the dust and dirt of his transgressions, and caked in the mud and muck of his guilt and shame.  And in this state of filth, David became fully aware that no number of towels, or rags, or cloths could wipe him off and make him clean.  No amount of water (hot or cold) could wash away his sin!  So David did what all sinners must do when they come face to face with their sin… he cried out to God!

Psalm 51 is David’s cry; it is David’s sincere and beautiful prayer of repentance.  And if we boil it down, we can see that David’s prayer is simple but powerful: “God, cleanse me, restore me, and use me!”  That’s his prayer in a nutshell.  Can you picture David face down on the ground screaming out to God in desperation?  Can you hear him yelling out to God? “O God, cleanse me! Wash me, scrub me, erase the stains of my sin, blot out my iniquities, wipe away my transgressions, rinse away filthiness in my mind and bathe my body in your holiness!”  Can you hear David crying out to God?  “O God, restore me!  Renew me, revive me, reinvigorate me with your love, replenish me with your sense of justice, reinstate me as your humble servant and renovate the innermost places of my heart and my mind.”  Can you hear David screaming out to God?  “O God, use me!”  Send me to teach others about your mercy, strengthen me so I can speak of your goodness, employ me as a servant of righteousness, empower me to sing of your love, and move me to declare your praise!”  Cleanse me. Restore me. Use me.  This is David’s prayer.  This is the cry of a king whose heart has been broken and shattered from the weight of his sin.  This is the plea of a penitent man who hungers for holiness and thirsts for righteousness!  This is the request of a man completely covered in the filth of his sin, guilt and shame.

I don’t like getting dirty… and I know you don’t either, which is why you’re still reading this.  None of us like getting dirty!  None of us like being covered in the ashes of our sin, coated with the dust and dirt of our transgressions, or caked in the mud and muck of our guilt and shame.  And even though we strive every day, through the power of the Holy Spirit, to keep our minds clean, avoid sin, do what is right, and live clean, holy lives… there are times, unfortunately, when we fall flat on our face in the mud pits of life and still sin.  But (and here’s the good news) when we do find ourselves entangled in sin, we can embrace the truth of these words found in 1 John 1:9, “If we confess our sins, God who is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.”  When we do fall face first into an unholy mess, we can rise from the ashes and stand beneath the free- flowing, cleansing fountain of forgiveness that showers down upon us from the cross of Christ.  When we do find ourselves caked in sin, we can go to God, repent, and be made clean, for as 1 John 1:7 says, “The blood of Jesus, God’s Son, cleanses us from all sin!” In other words, through the precious blood of Jesus, we can put on the red jersey and stay clean!

God, cleanse me, restore me, and use me… by the blood of the Lamb and through the power of the Holy Spirit!  Let this be our Lenten prayer!  Let this be our lifelong prayer!

[anotherfuckingmomblog-blog]

25.

On October 15th I turned 25. So many thoughts, joys, fears, and questions about my life. What am I doing? what have I done? what will I be doing? I step into this new age of 25 boldly, with confidence. I am healthy, I have been a no cheat vegan for a little over a month now. I have lost all my pregnancy weight. I have a beautiful, healthy, and happy baby boy. (Logan) I survived 4 years of being married. I have a healthy, hard working, loving husband. (Uriah) I have one cat and one dog. Motherhood is my life right now. That’s where I am at. This is the present. this is the moment I am in. I am not going to go into detail and bore you with all the things leading up to 25. 

When my husband asked me what my dream birthday would be I said to go to San Francisco, be in nature, and thrift shop. stepping into these cold days with a new baby can be stressful. WHY WON’T HE FIT INTO HIS 6-9 MONTH WINTER CLOTHING? you are only 3 months old kid! So I get this image in my head of him being bundled up in knitted old man sweaters. I can’t stop thinking about how cute he would be in a oversized sweater. I look online but everything is over 40 bucks for a growing child? no thank you. I decide to give God the control of finding these sweaters for Logan. I pray and ask God to show up. Guys GOD CARES ABOUT THE LITTLE THINGS. Logan and I drop Uriah off at work and decide to swing by this cute shop that we have a gift card for. I walk in and find this knitted sweater and matching hat with a fox on it. I do a little happy dance to find out that the two things together are the exact amount on my gift card. PRAISE JESUS. Then we stop at my favorite store in town, Shop Cuffs. where we find another knitted old man sweater its 14 bucks and I just so happen to only have 13 dollar bills and 4 quarters. Logan has worn these sweaters in the early cold mornings. IM TELLING YOU GOD CARES ABOUT THE LITTLE THINGS. I didn’t have to spend hours thrifting and waste a day searching for something i may never have found.

Saturday morning we wake up to check out a garage sale. everything is over priced. on the way home we stop by another one and check out a collection of records. The lady says you can each take 6 for free. again THANK YOU JESUS. we have been talking about making our record collection larger. We end up walking home with at least 15 records all 40′s style. What a Joy and Delight for the day.

Sunday morning it’s my birthday. I rent a car because I am 25. I get there all excited to do something that I have never done before. I show them the age on my drivers license like I did when I turned 21. They look at me and say oh yeah we changed the age requirement to 21. The fun part was it ended up being cheaper since I was 25.... so thats cool.... We rented a dodge charger. This is the dream car. The car I always pick when playing video games. Driving this car was so fun. I let Uriah drive most of the time because he has self control when it comes to the speed limit. I just wanted to drive as fast as I could. We drove into the city. We looked every where for a parking spot but everything was miles away or 10 bucks an hour. we ended up on the other side of the freeway in a random place where we found the best parking spot ever. We are headed to the Japanese tea garden. On the way we walk through a giant rose garden that smells like heaven on our right and the redwoods on our left. It’s so peaceful. 

Japanese tea garden experience. This garden was so magical. You walk in and instantly feel peace. I could feel the presence of God just by being still and admiring the beauty of nature. It was a much needed breath of fresh air. In the garden they have beautiful bridges, temples, giant fish, waterfalls, a tea house, and a zen garden. The zen garden was exactly where I needed to be. I was able to sit there in peace and quiet. Be still. Be free. Know God. I suddenly felt REFRESHED, RENEWED, and RECHARGED. We sat here for at least an hour but it felt like endless time in the presence of God. I was healed from any anxiety, fear, pain, or things I just could not let go of. I just kept repeating LORD I GIVE YOU CONTROL. LORD I GIVE YOU ALL MY FEARS AND ANXIETY. LORD HEAL ME AND MAKE ME WHOLE. The lord showed up and made me new. I felt alive. I felt free. logan was sleeping and uriah was just looking at the zen garden. Uriah loves the little desk versions of zen gardens so he was enjoying it as well. I just kept thinking this zen garden is perfect. Every little detail and placement is just perfect. Nothing will mess it up. I just want to look at it and feel that joy that comes from a finished project. I have a problem with trying to create the perfect moment or keeping everything in the perfect place. I don’t enjoy cooking because I am busy cleaning up while I am cooking, I don’t enjoy eating at home because as soon as I am done with my last bite, my last sip, I go a clean it up. I am always running around cleaning something so It doesn’t pile up and become a big unfinished project. It’s so bad that somethings I would rather just not use my perfectly folded blanket. That way it never has to be folded again. I know it’s sick. I am a freak. Anyway this Zen garden gave me that peace I am always trying to create by making everything perfect around me. I don’t know how to explain it. This is just getting to be too long. Long story cut short we then left the garden and headed to another garden where we had a picnic and logan got his wiggles out. it was beautiful. We came across wild animals, giant succulents, and beautiful flowers. Our last stop before we head back was veganburg. It’s the in and out for vegans. Seriously the best vegan burger ever. Uriah wanted to keep driving the fun car so we drove out of the way to a Walmart. I picked out some new plant babies and soil. It was the best birthday ever. all I wanted was to be in nature with my family. Thank you babe for giving me this special day to remember forever. I will most likely forget by next year. That is why I have decided to write it out here. The baby wants his momma now. Until next time. 

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Bet You Can’t {4}

Chris Evans x Uriah & Chris Hemsworth x Summer

Crossover-Collab Five-Part Miniseries

 Warning: Cursing, Fun & Games, Mild Raunchy Talk, Tiny Bit Of Angst

 Words: 2.7K

Summary: Uriah and Chris are happily married. A night of relaxing with your best friends Chris and Summer Hemsworth brings up “No Nut November.” Once you hear it, you know where it’s leading. It was all jokes until somehow it turned serious. The Chris’ strike a full-on bet while dragging their better halves into the madness. The rules are simple, for the entire month of November none of you will have sex, none of you will get that nut in any way. Whichever couple makes it get bragging rights, and the 10k pool bet money. Whichever couple doesn’t make it has to change their social media name to “Failed NNN” for a week and post/tweet as normal and go on IG live to announce their failure. The bet is rigged though when Uriah and Summer decide to sabotage their husbands and make a side bet on who could make their husband fail quicker. All’s fair in love and war, and this is war.

 Note: Got this idea from a group conversation with my friends, where a debate broke out about women being stronger and more able to survive NNN than men. It got me thinking, hmmm we know Chris has a dirty mind, dirty mind has to equal freak and always wanting to fool around.

It was too much fun working with @oceanscorazon a while back for her part one to out first collab titled Rumors & Waves. Look out for part two coming soon.  I had to do it again. Thank you to the beautiful and phenomenal Amber @oceanscorazon for agreeing to this!!!

This will be a five-part story to be posted one chapter a week to show what November is like for Chris and Uriah. @oceanscorazon will also write four parts to show that November is like for Chris and Summer.

***So for Chris and Uriah’s timeline, this is before the events of Rumor Has It. 

***Images do not belong to me***

***Loosley Edited/Proofread***

🍁 🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

-Week Three-

Every marriage has times of ups and downs, times where the passion is searing and intense, times where you can’t keep your hands off each other, as well as times where you both need space, and things fizzle out. That is a normal part of every marriage, or so he’d heard from several of his married friends. One thing that he was learning was what goes on in his friends’ marriages was not what went on in his.

 Since the day he’d met you there was never a time that the two of you needed space from each other. Both of you loved spending every waking moment with each other and if you couldn’t physically be with the other you were always on facetime, always texting. The passion hadn’t died down at all, nothing had fizzled. In fact, as time passed everything in your marriage just intensified. 

That was probably one of the reasons why this No Nut November challenge was so hard. You’d never had to keep your hands off each other, never had to restrain yourselves from how you expressed your love, devotion, and desire for the other. It wasn’t that your marriage was based on sex; that was far from the truth. Sex was just another of the fun and thrilling ways the two of you could express how you felt about each other.

 If you were angry with each other, the sex was always intense and rough. If one or both of you needed emotional reassurance the sex was tender and sweet. If there was alcohol involved it was fun and spontaneous. It was an expression for both of you.

 Three weeks. Three weeks in. He had one more week to go after this one and he was going crazy. He’d thought he could handle this when he and Hemsworth came up with the idea. Back then it seemed easy peasy. It seemed like such an easy thing and was sure you’d be on board. Now after sleeping in the guest bedroom for the last five days, he’d come to see the error in his ways. The deep error.

Laying in the king-sized bed and staring up at the ceiling it was yet another night sleeping away from you. another night of him tossing and turning trying to find a comfortable spot knowing damn well he’d never find one unless he was beside you. The last week’s sleep was the worst he’d ever had, and it showed in everything he did. He was short with everyone he spoke to, his energy was low, his focus and concentration dwindled, and everything was twenty times harder.

 You, on the other hand, looked to be doing just fine. You didn’t look tired, you looked like you were getting good sleep. Your voice was always preppy, you gave no indication you were anything but happy. The only sign he saw was when you dealt with him. Your words were shorter, your body language was strained as if you were holding yourself back. You barely looked at him and barely got next to him. You didn’t let him touch you either, not even something small as a touch of your hand. He was definitely feeling the freeze out and it was giving him frostbite among other things.

 Groaning he sat up in the moonlit room and threw one of his pillows across the room. The frustration he was feeling was just about at his limit. His phone went off and he leaped for it thinking it was Uriah.

 MSG Hemsworth: How are the rabbits holding up?

He rolled his eyes and had the urge to throw the whole phone away.

 MSG Hemsworth: I know you’re up and that you read the message, mate. I can see the read notification. Come on.

MSG: What do you want Hemsworth?

MSG Hemsworth: You sound salty.

MSG: You sound like your wife. I thought you were your own man.

MSG Hemsworth: Oh yeah, you’re real salty. Someone feeling the effects of three weeks of being shut out?

 He wanted to kick his ass for getting him into this.

 MSG: So you know I have not been shut out.

MSG Hemsworth: Oh really? Are you admitting you’ve lost and given in?

MSG: I haven’t lost. Thanks to you my wife kicked me out of my bed and my room. I am now in the guest room.

MSG Hemsworth: Yeah I was kicked out to the guest room two days ago. The kids now sneak in at night and use me as their pillows.

 A snort escaped him. he was pleased to hear that he was not the only one who was suffering. If he knew Summer and he knew Summer, she was giving him hell.

 MSG: Serves you right for dragging me into this.

MSG Hemsworth: One more week Evans, you can handle that. Then you can go to town.

 This time he had to laugh. Just picturing his Aussie accent saying those words was too much.

 MSG: Riah is pissed. I think I took this too far. I haven’t seen her this pissed in a while.

MSG Hemsworth: If this is seriously affecting your relationship then we should end it.

 He thought about it for a few moments and he knew the smartest route to take was ending the bet, but he also knew he’d never hear the end of this. Groaning again he hit his head on the beadboard. “Damn it!” He knew his competitive nature would get his ass in real trouble.

 MSG: One more week. That’s enough time for you to lose.

MSG Hemsworth: Shit, I just might. Summer just came in wearing very little. Jesus Christ, this woman is going to be the death of me.

MSG: Go die happy then.

MSG Hemsworth: I’m not nearly as easy as she thinks I am.

 He laughed again and shook his head; he knew his friend was full of shit.

 MSG: Whatever. We know who wears the pants man.

MSG Hemsworth: I am the only one wearing pants right now. My god.

MSG: Ew. I don’t want to hear that. Go away. Goodbye.

 He tossed his phone back onto the nightstand and got out of the bed. As he paced the room he decided to go to you and test the waters. The halls were quiet and with every step, his nerves increased. He felt like he was either marching to his death or the very first night he took her out. When he got to the bedroom door he stood there and took several breaths hoping to calm his nerves. As he touched the doorknob he paused. He knew he needed a good reason. Quickly he thought up an excuse and knocked on the door.

 There was no response for almost thirty seconds, then he knocked again. still, you didn’t answer.

 “Can I come in, Riah? I need something.” He pressed his ear to the door trying to listen for what you may be doing on the other side.

 “Come.” Your voice was faint.

 Slowly he turned the knob and cautiously walked inside his own bedroom like a visitor. You were lying in the bed with your back turned to the door. He could see the glow from the tv on your skin and knew you were naked. For more evidence the way the duvet just carelessly covered the swell of your ass told him all he needed to know. He tried not to stare but he couldn’t help it. You were strewn across the bed across your side and his. Your head perched on a stack of pillows and your hair tied up in your head tie. He knew underneath your hair was wrapped perfectly. He’d spend many nights just watching you do that very thing always mesmerized by how effortless you made it look.

 He didn’t realize he’d been standing there for a minute too long until you shifted on the bed to a different position. A position that had the duvet falling lower and giving him a glimpse of the flesh on your ass. He stifled a groan and looked away in an effort to contain himself.

 “Riah.” It was a little louder than a whisper. He wasn’t sure you heard it. when you didn’t answer right away he was sure you hadn’t. “Dragonfly.”

 Instantly he felt the tension in the room decrease. It was enough to give him some courage.

Slowly, he approached the bed and your bare back. You were close enough for him to touch. All he had to do was just reach out to you. He wondered if you’d pull away, or tell him to get out. when the back of his hand grazed the soft, supple skin of your back you took a sharp breath in, but you didn’t pull away. He trailed the back of his fingers along your spine upward to your shoulder blade. When he made it to the back of your neck he traced the pattern of a heart there. It was your code. 

Whenever either of you traced that pattern at this spot no matter where you were, it was always code for the other person to know just how in love the other was, how much their very existence depended on the other, how much they really desired them. He’d use it every chance he got when you were out together around people, every chance he got he was swirling a heart on your neck and every time he did your reaction was instantaneous. He knew that you remembered.

 “God darlin’, I love you so much. I miss you.” He didn’t care if he sounded needy or weak. He was speaking the truth, a truth he knew she needed to hear. He needed to hear the words too—he needed to hear your words.

 After waiting for several moments, he sighed when he realized you weren’t going to even acknowledge him there. It hurt; he wasn’t going to lie. It hurt a hell of a lot. Accepting the defeat, he dropped his hand and stepped back from you ready to retreat. When he turned to walk out your voice stopped him.

 “Wait.” Your voice was low, timid and almost clouded. When he turned back to you, your back was still to him. He waited, waited for any sign from you. This was your show. You moved more onto the bed leaving enough space for him. wasting not even a second he slid into the bed behind you and wrapped his arms around you. Once his skin touched yours he audibly sighed feeling an actual decrease in tension his body held. It felt like coming home after a long trip.

 Neither of you moved. He stayed where he was nuzzling his nose in the crook of your neck just enjoying your smell. God, he’d missed you. A moan escaped him and that started a chain reaction. He pressed his body closer to yours trying to get as close as possible. From there, his hands moved of their own accord. From your waist, they went to your hip then down your thigh and back up to your hip. Your skin was so damn soft.

 Without even knowing it he kissed your neck, then your shoulder and down your arm and back to your neck. By the time he couldn’t stop, he didn’t want to. A peck quickly turned more passionate and soon he was moving under the duvet you were under. To his delight and dismay, he found you were naked. His head said stop, move and leave but his heart easily eclipsed it. his heart was the one who made the decision to urge you to turn to him with his hand on your hip. When you turned to him and your eyes met he could see you.

For the last week, you’d been so detached, so cold, so angry that your exterior easily mirrored those emotions. Everything he’d tried you shot down, he thought it would be weeks before you even began to let him next to you, but here you were. You looked vulnerable and unsure of yourself. That was new, he thought. He was used to you being this confidant woman who embodied sexy. You knew you were gorgeous and knew that he was under your spell every minute of every day. He couldn’t wait any longer.

 Pressing his lips to yours he kissed you softly. It was an exploratory kiss, one that was meant to feel you out, test the waters—see where he stood. You didn’t kiss him back, so he deepened the kiss and coiled his tongue around yours. Your moan vibrated against his lips sending tiny shockwaves of desire through him. Just as he was going to take lead again you pulled back.

“Don’t do this if I’m not what you want,” you whispered with your forehead pressed to his.

 “You’re kidding right, Riah. You’re always what I want. I need you.” You searched his eyes for the truth, but he’d already given it. “I love you so much, Uriah—so fucking much.”

 You crashed your lips to his and in the same breath rolled on top of him. your nakedness pressed on him was the last straw in his control. The two of you moaned and writhed atop the bed kissing each other each of you fighting for control over the other. He loved this. Early on in your relationship, he realized you had more than one side to you. You weren’t only submissive to him, but you also liked to play dominant. He always thought a submissive woman was what he needed but in truth, he craved both, but only with you. He rolled on top of you and pinned your hands to the bed. The action produced a growl from you that didn’t help his arousal.

 Flicking off the duvet you were revealed to his eyes and he slowly drank you in. “God you are the most beautiful woman I have ever met in my life.” You didn’t speak immediately instead you stared into his eyes then cupped his jaw.

 “Let’s make a baby.”

 His groan was instant. Jesus Christ, he thought. His weakness. The one thing you knew he wouldn’t be able to resist. You knew he wanted a baby—a baby with you. you knew since coming to an agreement in Sydney it was high on your combined priority list. You both wanted to start a family and were actively trying.

 “Put a baby in me,” you whispered again before he felt your feet at his hips where the waistband of his shorts were putting your torturous flexibility on display. He then felt you push them lower all the while never breaking eye contact with him. You were pulling out your reserve card. He wondered if you’d play it and had gone three weeks wondering. He didn’t need to wonder anymore.

 “I’m ovulating. Tonight is your window.” He groaned again and dropped his head to the crook of your neck when he felt his length flop from inside his shorts and nudge against your spread flesh.

 “God, you’re not being fair.”

“You said you want a baby. Let’s make one. Let me make you a daddy.” Your words were the best dirty talk he’d ever heard in his life. He didn’t need to hear “fuck me” or “come inside of me so hard I feel like I’m splitting in two.” No, he didn’t need to hear any of that anymore, not since Sydney. All he needed to hear was “put a baby in me” and “I’m ovulating.” He would have laughed but this was no laughing matter. His wife was trying to seduce him with the prospect of impregnating her.

 “Is that what you want, kitten? You want me to give you a baby?”

 “No, I want you to fuck me so hard and so good that I see stars and scream your name until I can’t scream anymore and you come so deep in me that my body has no other option than to give us a baby.” His cock spasmed with the need to be inside of you. You were going to kill him, and he was bout ready to die. This was it. Check fucking mate.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

***If you want to be tagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TagList:

@chrisgalore @chaneajoyyy @rynabarnesrogers @disneysdarlingdiva @bellaamor88 @ab-baybay @sonjashuterbugjohnson @caramara3 @patzammit @yourwonderbelle @motivation-idontknowher @lo-cheu @momobaby227 @thatrandomhetaliachick @missdeerstalker15 @queenbetter @jesseswartzwelder @briellableu @titty-teetee  @zaddysqueen7  @melaninhawtie  @simplyyamberr @airis-paris14 @ashanti-notthesinger @afraiddreamingandloving @ajspencer1892 @wakanda-inspired @chillavesss @drsunshine97 @cleothegoldfish @builtalongthewayside @theunsweetenedtruth @geeksareunique @aykanna @hanasamara @profilia @ollieveracity @autumn242 @missyperle @sup3rn0va13 @forbeautyandlife @kreolemami @designerwriterchic

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Bet You Can’t {1}

Chris Evans x Uriah & Chris Hemsworth x Summer

Crossover-Collab Four-Part Miniseries

 Warning: Cursing, Plot, Fun, and Games, Mild Raunchy Talk

 Words: 2.2K

 Summary: Uriah and Chris are happily married. A night of relaxing with your best friends Chris and Summer Hemsworth brings up “No Nut November.” Once you hear it, you know where it’s leading. IT was all jokes until somehow it turned serious. The Chris’ strike a full-on bet while dragging their better halves into the madness. The rules are simple, for the entire month of November none of you will have sex, none of you will get that nut in any way. Whichever couple makes it get bragging rights, and the 10k pool bet money. Whichever couple doesn’t make it has to change their social media name to “Failed NNN” for a week and post/tweet as normal and go on IG live to announce their failure. The bet is rigged though when Uriah and Summer decide to sabotage their husbands and make a side bet on who could make their husband fail quicker. All’s fair in love and war, and this is war.

 Note: Got this idea from a group conversation with my friends, where a debate broke out about women being stronger and more able to survive NNN than men. It got me thinking, hmmm we know Chris has a dirty mind, dirty mind has to equal freak and always wanting to fool around.

It was too much fun working with @oceanscorazon​ a while back for her part one to out first collab titled Rumors & Waves. Look out for part two coming soon.  I had to do it again. Thank you to the beautiful and phenomenal Amber @oceanscorazon​ for agreeing to this!!!

This will be a four part story to be posted one chapter a week to show what November is like for Chris and Uriah. @oceanscorazon​ will also write four parts to show that November is like for Chris and Summer.

***So for Chris and Uriah’s timeline, this is before the events of Rumor Has It.

🍁 🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

“Oh my god, you guys are so dumb. I cannot even deal right now!”

  You couldn’t contain your laughter. Perhaps it was you being at your utmost comfort level, or the fact you were genuinely having a great time or the insane amount of alcohol you’d consumed. Whatever it was, your ugly dork laugh had come out of hiding.

  “Oh my god, the dork laugh has returned,” Chris teased, pointing at you from across the huge firepit. Everyone laughed louder as you narrowed your eyes at your husband.

  “Oh shut up, you know you love my dork laugh.”

  “I do, you’re right. I kinda have to though right, we’re married.”

“What are you saying?”

  “Nothing, sweetheart, just it’s very suspect this laugh of yours didn’t emerge until we’d been married for a week.”

You all laughed harder, fully getting the meaning of his words.

  “Oh, mate, are you really implying that you’d have had second thoughts marrying her if you’d heard the laugh before?”

  Chris shrugged his shoulders with a smirk on his face before he finished his drink. Summer and Hemsworth roared out with “ohs.” You rolled your eyes at him.

  “I’m kidding. I’m kidding. I don’t think anything could have stopped me from marrying her. It was inevitable,” Chris clarified, shooting an enamored smile your way.

  “It was inevitable. From the night you got between these thighs, your fate was sealed,” you gibed. Again, you all laughed heartily.

  “I agree with Riah; everyone saw how captivated you were once you met. We all placed bets on how long it would be until you married her,” Summer announced.

  “Yeah, it was record-breaking time too,” Hemsworth slipped in.

  You smiled at Chris, making your way around the firepit to sit on his lap. Chris wrapped his muscular arms around you and placed a kiss on your jawline. “When you know you know,” he finished.

  “Aww, baby.”

  Your lips met his in a sweet kiss, then turned passionate. Chris pulled you closer, and before anything could turn dirty you pulled back. You heard the low grunt that caught in his throat as he gave you a look that spoke of desire. You knew what was in store for you when you got home.

  “You guys are so stinking cute. Five years and still acting like newlyweds,” Summer broke in as Hemsworth leaned over to kiss her temple as the words left her mouth. She smiled and turned to her husband and kissed him softly.

  “Look who’s talking,” Chris quipped.

  “Oh, can’t believe it’s the last of October already,” Hemsworth lamented with a groan.

  You all knew what the end of October meant. It meant that you all were now just two months away from getting back to work from your vacations from filming. Hemsworth and Summer were set to get back into superhero mode with Marvel. You’d been signed to two new roles that were set to shoot back to back while you worked on your debut album in between all of it. Chris, on the other hand, was exploring and filming a few new roles since his departure from Captain America. The silence stretched as the threat of work hung in the air between the four of you.

  “I saw something funny on Twitter the other day. There are a bunch of people posting about starting and participating in something called “No Nut November,” Chris began.

  You and Summer groaned in unison as your eyes met. You knew what your best friend was thinking without a word.

  Hemsworth cleared his throat in true Chris Hemsworth exaggerated jokester fashion then began. “Ah, I know this one. It’s when in November, people commit to not having sex.”

  “It’s stupid. I never understood why anyone would do that?” Eyes went to you as you finished your bottle of beer. When you realized it you looked at the three of them “What? Sex is a natural, healthy and fun part of being human. Why would anyone want to get rid of it?”

  Summer and Hemsworth laughed again.

  “Guess we know what goes on behind closed doors now, huh Mrs. Evans,” Summer joked as her husband snickered with her.

  “Hey, we’re adults, and we won’t be shamed,” Chris said coming to your defense.

  “No shame at all, boo,” Summer piped up.

  “I don’t’ see the big deal. I’d be able to handle it easy,” Summer’s husband added as she nodded right beside him.

  You felt Chris’ grip tighten around your waist while his other hand dropped to squeeze the flesh where your upper thigh and ass met. His giant hand was blazing hot. Chris only got this hot when he’d gotten some drinks in him, and his body was turning the alcohol into fuel—but fuel for something else entirely. Your eyes locked onto his to see his teeth sink into his bottom lip. You smiled and mouthed, “behave.” He smiled and buried his face into your neck and teased the sensitive flesh there.

  “Eh-em!” You turned to find Summer and co looking at you.

  “Hm?”

  “Guess we got our answer, you and Evans definitely wouldn’t make it. You’re both too weak,” Summer teased.

  “Woah, woah, are we forgetting who was the one playing Captain America, the first strongest avenger?”

Everyone rolled their eyes. “Bro, you’re like an old quarterback who just won’t let go of his glory days. We get it sport, you were the best or one of them, but let’s not forget about who the actual god of thunder is,” Hemsworth gloated while flexing his muscle. You noticed Summer’s broad smile as she stared at her husband’s arm.

  “I just don’t appreciate being called weak. My wife and I would more than be able to make it because we’re physically and mentally strong,” Chris professed, sitting up in his Adirondack chair. Your eyes dropped to him, trying to give him the signal to abort what he was saying because you saw where this was heading.

  “Oh, so you think you’d be able to win this thing?” Hemsworth added.

  The two of them always loved to goad each other. One time, Chris had goaded Hemsworth into a beer drinking match while you and Summer were left as the innocent bystanders watching your husbands act like children, then you had to be the ones to take care of them after they’d both surpassed their limits. It ended in vomit, and neither of you were happy, which finished with both of them being in the doghouse for several weeks. Another time Hemsworth goaded Chris into a surfing challenge knowing full well Chris was not a surfer. He grew up in Boston. That resulted in Chris getting stung by a jellyfish and Hemsworth having to pee on him. You and summer laughed your asses off but never heard the end of it from either of your husbands.

  Then there was that time they both tricked each other into some whacky challenge to drive for an hour completely naked. That ended up with both of them getting pulled over by the cops who found it amusing and let them go, but they were then spotted by TMZ and ended up being on the show with the headline “Fast and Furious Streaking Chris’.” It was hilarious, but neither of them lived it down for several months. You and Summer knew this was about to get out of hand.

  “Guys,” you began, but neither of them batted an eye to your but in into the conversation. They simply continued debating the issue of who had the mental strength to do it.

  “Hello! We the wives have something to say,” Summer attempted. Her husband briefly looked to her then back to Chris.

  “Hold on, baby, the men--husbands are in the middle of something.”

  Summer’s jaw dropped, and you couldn’t help but laugh. You knew when they got like this, neither you or Summer would get a word in. You stood from Chris’ lap and walked over to the cooler where the drinks were with Summer following behind you. They didn’t even seem to notice.

  The two of you stood there and watched your husbands, and loves of your lives continue on as if you weren’t even there. “This won’t end well,” Summer began.

  “Oh, girl, I know.”

  “Why must they always try to do this one up game?”

  You shrugged because you honestly didn’t know what it was. It wasn’t a male thing because sometimes women got into it as well, but with men, it was on a whole different level.

  “Remember when Chris dared Evans to hold that rattlesnake saying he’d held them hundreds of times?”

  You and Summer snickered at the memory. Hemsworth hadn’t touched it but lied his ass off, and Chris fell for it and held it with no problem only when it was Hemsworth’s turn he chickened out, then Chris chased him around with it.

  “For a man who lives in Australia, you’d think him, and the rattlers would be best buds,” Summer joked.

  “Remember the time they got into a literal race on Sunset?”

  Summer rolled her eyes. The four of you were going to dinner together. After leaving your house, Chris and Hemsworth got into a pissing match over who could run the fastest. It went on and on for the whole eight-mile car drive. When you’d gotten to Sunset both of them got out the car and raced down to the restaurant, leaving you and Summer to drive the vehicles there. When you arrived, it was decided that they’d tied, which led to talks of a rematch.

  It was exhausting having them together, but it sure was great comedy. Suddenly both of them stood.

  “It’s settled then,” Hemsworth said.

  “Damn right it is,” Chris repeated. Both of them looked to you with huge smiles on their faces.

  “We’ve decided that we’re participating in this No Nut November, and we’re going to win,” Hemsworth began.

  You and Summer quickly spat out your mouthfuls of beer and gaped at your husbands. When neither of their smiles faltered, and neither spoke you and Summer looked to each other clearly thinking the same thing.

  “What the fuck!?” It came out at the same time, and the confusion and shock you both felt clearly and precisely came across.

“No Nut November, for the entire month of November,” Chris began before you cut him off.

  “I know what the hell No Nut November is Christopher. I’m not an idiot! What the hell do you mean we’re participating? Who decided that?”

  “We did,” he informed, motioning between him and Chris.

  “Oh, so you two are fucking each other?”

  “Really, Summer?”

  “That is the only way you two could come up and decide something that involves your wives as well,” Summer continued.

  “Babe, we’ve got this. We’ve been married longer and have way more self-control than these two noobs,” Hemsworth slid in as he approached her.

  “Hey! We have self-control!” Your outburst was not to defend this stupid idea; it was to defend you and Chris as a couple.

  “Sure you do,” Hemsworth added with a snort. “Summer, it’ll be easy, like taking candy from a baby.”

  “Whatever, you two are the ones who couldn’t keep your hands off each other during filming. Our godchildren were conceived because you couldn’t practice professionalism and control,” Chris dropped in. Your eyes bugged as did Summers.

  “Wow, you went there, Evans? Really?” Chris shrugged his shoulders so matter of factly that you had no choice but to laugh.

  “Really, Riah!”

  “I’m sorry, I really am. You have to admit though, that was the perfect slide in. He read you both.” You did your best to stop smiling, but it was difficult.

  “I say we take this bet and show them what winners look like,” Hemsworth added.

  “Not a good idea,” Summer finished.

  “We already have a bet Summer. The Evans’ will bring this home!”

  “Whatever mate, the Hemsworths are going to claim this victory.”

  “Rules are simple. For the entire month of November, neither of us will have sex. None of us will get any nut,” Chris explained as his eyes went from Summer to Hemsworth and then to you.

  You and Summer were just stunned as to how this happened, especially with them completely ignoring what the two of you had to say about it.

  “Whichever couple makes it gets bragging rights, and the pool bet money. I’m putting down five grand Summer, and I have this.”

  “Well, I’m putting down five grand Riah, and I more than have this,” Chris countered.

  You rolled your eyes and looked to Summer. She was still frozen, just watching her husband speak.

  “Whichever couple doesn’t make it has to change their social media name to “Failed NNN” for a week and post/tweet as normal.”

  “Easy. I’m gonna raise that bet, on top of changing your name you have to go on IG live and announce that you failed and lost to us,” Chris raised.

  “Oh ho, deal!” Hemsworth and Chris shook hands and looked to the two of you. Again, neither you or Summer spoke. Your husbands walked off together, throwing themselves back into conversation as if they hadn’t just committed to a month of torture without consulting either of you.

  “What just happened?”

  “Girl, we just got fitted for and shackled with our chastity belts for November,” you informed.

  “Ain’t that a--.” Summer started, as the two of you just stood there looking at the men you loved who’d just started yet another war with each other, which had the two of you dealing with the fallout.

  “Bitch,” you finished.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

***If you want to be tagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TagList:

@chrisgalore​ @chaneajoyyy​ @rynabarnesrogers​ @disneysdarlingdiva​ @bellaamor88​ @ab-baybay​ @sonjashuterbugjohnson​ @caramara3​ @patzammit​

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: I Bet You Can’t {2}

Chris Evans x Uriah & Chris Hemsworth x Summer

Crossover-Collab Four-Part Miniseries

Warning: Cursing, Plot, Fun, and Games, Raunchy Talk, Trigger Warning Mention of Trump🙃

Words: 2.9K

Summary: Uriah and Chris are happily married. A night of relaxing with your best friends Chris and Summer Hemsworth brings up “No Nut November.” Once you hear it, you know where it’s leading. IT was all jokes until somehow it turned serious. The Chris’ strike a full-on bet while dragging their better halves into the madness. The rules are simple, for the entire month of November none of you will have sex, none of you will get that nut in any way. Whichever couple makes it get bragging rights, and the 10k pool bet money. Whichever couple doesn’t make it has to change their social media name to “Failed NNN” for a week and post/tweet as normal and go on IG live to announce their failure. The bet is rigged though when Uriah and Summer decide to sabotage their husbands and make a side bet on who could make their husband fail quicker. All’s fair in love and war, and this is war.

Note: Got this idea from a group conversation with my friends, where a debate broke out about women being stronger and more able to survive NNN than men. It got me thinking, hmmm we know Chris has a dirty mind, dirty mind has to equal freak and always wanting to fool around.

It was too much fun working with @oceanscorazon​ a while back for her part one to out first collab titled Rumors & Waves. Look out for part two coming soon.  I had to do it again. Thank you to the beautiful and phenomenal Amber @oceanscorazon​ for agreeing to this!!!

This will be a four part story to be posted one chapter a week to show what November is like for Chris and Uriah. @oceanscorazon​ will also write four parts to show that November is like for Chris and Summer.

***So for Chris and Uriah’s timeline, this is before the events of Rumor Has It.

🍁 🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

-Week One-

  Four days. Four damn days. You rolled your eyes and stared at your reflection. Fresh out a shower that you thought would help the tension in your shoulders; you realized it hadn’t done anything at all. You rolled your shoulders and groaned. It had been four days. Not one and done or two and done, it had been four damn days since this stupid bet began. Four days where Chris maintained this gung ho attitude that he’d be victorious in No Nut November.

  The first day was easy for him because he was busy working the whole day. When it was time for bed, you expected him to see the error of his ways. As you were lying in the bed channel surfing, he came in kissed your forehead, and stretched back as if he had not one care in the world. He even tried to have a nonchalant conversation. When you slid closer to him and rested your head on his chest you were sure after a few minutes of feeling your body heat he would abandon the no nut ship but nope. He was perfectly content, even had the nerve to stroke mesmerizing and soothing circles onto your arm.

  The second night was much like the first; the only difference was when he climbed into bed he went to you to assume the big spoon position. He stayed there for a few seconds, but when you moaned and wiggled deeper in his embrace he groaned and abruptly moved away to his side of the bed to roll onto his side. When you asked him what that was, he said he wanted to be the little spoon. You found it strange because he never wanted to be the little spoon. He liked being big spoon so he could overpower your body with his long spider-like legs and arms. When you wrapped your arms around him and pressed your body to his back it felt ridiculous because of how much more muscular he was. You moaned and pressed closer, and it was then he moved away claiming he was hot and really needed some sleep.

Night three, he was in bed before you, and he was fast asleep. That irked your nerve; he was creating space between you, not physical space either. He knew you loved to cuddle, but cuddling had all but disappeared as were any kisses that weren’t for your cheek, or forehead. He’d only allowed lip kisses that were under two seconds. The last time you had a two-second kiss was when you were fifteen playing kissing games with other kids your age. You thought when you were married two-second kisses would be a thing of the past.

  After giving your hair a last once over, you gave yourself a determined look in the mirror. You planned on kicking it up a notch. It was couples workout day, and you had a plan. You walked out the bathroom and grabbed your workout towel, and made your way up to your in-home gym where Chris was waiting. You went over the plan in your head again.

  “Tease, tease, ask for training, tease, then seduce, and finally find a release.”

  You nodded, getting into the right mind frame as you climbed the steps to the top floor of yours and Chris’ Boston Brownstone. When you got to the top, the doors to the exercise studio were open, and you saw a tank clad Chris doing pull-ups. Getting lost you stood there and just watched him pump them out like they were nothing. When you’d counted to fifty he dropped down and groaned while stretching out his arms.

  “Fifty, impressive.” He turned around and looked your body over. The look on his face was a masked one.

  “Ready to show me what you go?” You approached him while fastening the gloves around your wrist.

  “Don’t expect fifty.”

  “Come on; I’ll spot you.”

  You stretched your arms, then stood in front of the pull-up bar and looked at Chris through the mirror. He lifted you effortlessly, and you gripped the bar and began your pull-ups. He walked around you as he counted. You tried to keep your eyes focused on yourself in the mirror but every circle he made, you found yourself getting slightly distracted.

  “Fifteen, good. Remember to keep your core tight,” Chris reminded.

  You nearly laughed; he had no idea how tight your core was thanks to this stupid bet. Your arms began to shake, and you knew you only had a few left in you. Chris sensed it too and stood in front of you with his hands out ready to brace your drop.

  “Thirty.” You let the bar go but barely dropped before Chris’s arms caught you, and placed you onto the floor.

  “Felt good, right?”

  “You and I, my friend have very different ideas of what feels good. Lucky for you I know just what will feel good.” You took a step to him. A smile spread across his face then he bit his bottom lip.

  “I’m all ears, Mrs. Evans.”

  “Just ears? I can think of better body parts to have all in.” You pressed your body to his and placed your hand over his crotch. Chris groaned and dropped a kiss to the tip of your nose.

  “Did you come up here to work out or talk?” He moved away to the treadmill and set it up. He was resisting. Great, you thought.

  You spent thirty minutes on the treadmill, then fifteen on the elliptical, then separated for Chris to focus on his back while you concentrated on your legs. After another twenty minutes you’d worked up quite a sweat. When you wiped your forehead you saw Chris doing curls. You walked over to the kettlebells and decided to kick it up. Taking a spot in front of the mirror in clear sight of Chris, you began your kettlebell squats. When you dipped down, you made sure to poke your ass out a bit more than usual.Thanks to the micro shorts you wore, you knew the view was sublime.

  After ten, you began to feel the burn, and you could feel his eyes glued to you. You decided to let your grunts and moans out on the next dip. When you did, you heard him suck in a hiss of air, but you didn’t stop. You were glad you chose this outfit, it showed just the right parts of you, the parts you knew he loved. After another ten you dropped the kettlebell in front of you and bent over to catch your breath. Placing your palms flat on the floor with not even the slightest bend of your knees you waited.

  After a small grunt, he spoke. “You okay, babe?”

  “Yeah, I’m gonna feel those tomorrow,” you responded. He smiled and nodded then walked to the bench press machine.

  “You wanna go first? I’ll spot you.”

  After you put the kettlebell back, you walked to him and lied back. Chris put twenty pounds on and lifted it like it was nothing to make sure it wasn’t too much. “Think you can handle twenty?”

  “Most I’ve ever taken is about ten and a half, but I can handle twenty.” He fully got your meaning and adjusted his stance as he cleared his throat. You lifted your arms, gripped the bar then began. Chris counted them out.

  You were doing fine until you realized how wide his stance was and just how close your head was to the ten and a half you were speaking of. Suddenly your concentration faltered, and your only thought was having him settle into your mouth. His eyes locked with yours, and you wondered if he could tell what you were thinking about. You bit your bottom lip and just imagined him slapping your face with it. Chris was a gentle guy but when he wanted he could get real nasty. You remembered the first time he slapped your cheek with his dick. It was a shock because he was this vanilla guy and you didn’t expect it, but you liked it. All you wanted right now was for him to slap you with it again.

  “Forty, take a break.” He took the bar and put it back in place as you panted and tried to get a grip.

  Why was this harder for you than his freaky ass? You sat up, stood, and motioned for him to go ahead. Before he did, he added another eighty pounds to the bar making it an even hundred. He knew you couldn’t spot that. When he laid down he nudged his head to the side.

  “I got this, babe.”

  Without wasting another second, he began pumping out lift after lift without so much as a tremble. You’d watched him do hundreds of these over the years, and you knew he wasn’t anywhere near tired. Your eyes slowly feasted on every inch of his body until they landed just below his waist. Without thinking you walked to him and swung your leg over him and sat right on his dick. Chris groaned and stopped with the bar in the air. He looked to you with a question in his eyes.

  “Uriah, really? I could have dropped this.”

  “You wouldn’t.” You fixed yourself on him, and he groaned again.

  “What’re you doing?” he continued lifting the bar, only this time, his movements were slower.

  “Nothing, just sitting.”

  “I’m not a seat.”

  “This is the second best seat in the house.”

  “What’s the first?”

  “Your face.” You saw his arm wobble, and your heart skipped a beat, worried he’d drop the bar on his throat. Chris lifted it with a loud grunt and flung it back. The barbell dropped to the floor with a loud clatter before Chris sat up, wrapped one arm around your waist and flipped you so your back was pressed to the bench with him between your legs.

  “Fuck!” the look on his face was an intense mischievous one.

  “What’re you doing, Uriah?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Since the minute we started working out, you’ve been saying all sorts of slick shit and doing everything you possibly could to have my eyes on you. Now, what—are—you—doing?”

  His face was so close, and you could feel him getting hard.

  “I want you.” The fire flickered on behind his deep cornflower blue eyes.

  “It’s been four days, and I want you, baby.”

  “We can’t; you know that.”

  “Chris, of course, we can. I won’t tell anyone. Summer and Chris will keep thinking that we haven’t. It’ll be our little secret.”

  You dropped your hand between your bodies and slipped it into his shorts and gripped his meat. Chris groaned and closed his eyes to enjoy the feel of your hand.

  “Don’t you want me too, baby?”

  “God Riah, you know I want you. You know I always want you.”

  “Okay then. Take these off and let me do all the work.”

  Just when you thought he would give in, he grabbed your hand and stopped its movements.

  “I’m not going to fail this baby. It’s one month, four weeks, thirty days, it is barely a drop in the bucket of our marriage. We can handle this. Our relationship is much more than sex.”

  Your jaw dropped.

  “Who are you?” Chris got off of you and walked over to his towel.

  “Chris, come on. This is stupid. We’re adults. Children make these kinds of bets.”

  “It’ll make us stronger.” You rolled your eyes. He was making you feel like a dick crazed thirsty thot. You sat up on the bench and glared at him.

  “Christopher Robert Evans, if you do not give me the dick I want I promise you I’ll get it elsewhere.”

  Chris rose his eyebrows, but he was amused. He didn’t take a thing you said as serious.

  “Really? Where?”

  “Right under your nose! Don’t test me, boy. It may be November, but I’m still a hot girl!”

  With that, you walked out of the room and stormed downstairs. Hopefully you’d scared the shit out of him, and he’d screw his head on right.

You were disappointed that night when you were met with an actual barrier between you and him in the bed. He’d made a makeshift wall. Your jaw dropped at his audacity. When you saw it you saw red.

  “Chris, you’re fucking kidding me, right?!”

  “What? I thought this would help you out. It’s a wall. You stay on your side, and I’ll stay on mine,” Chris explained.

  “A wall? So you Trump now? Building walls and shit? What’s next?”

  “Don’t play with me like that. Don’t mention that name in my house!”

  He was dead serious. You rolled your eyes. “Well, stop acting like him, unless you plan on grabbing this pussy.”

  He couldn’t keep a straight face to that one, and he busted out laughing. His laughter prompted yours, and some of the tension melted away.

  “I love you more than life Riah, but you’re not getting none of this dick.”

  Again your jaw dropped. You couldn’t believe this. You stormed away and went into your closet hell-bent on finding your stash of toys. You went into the drawer in the back, expecting to find them in the box you’d put them, but the box was empty.

  “Oh hell no he didn’t.”

  You stormed back out to the bedroom and saw Chris sitting there with a smug smirk on his face. “You’re not getting any plastic dick either. For better or worse means we’re in this together.”

  This shit would not do at all. It wasn’t even the end of the week yet, and you were bout tired of this shit. Tomorrow it was time to reassess.

  ~~~~~~~

 “Girl, you too!”

  You’d just finished telling Summer all about Chris’ ass and the shit he’d put you through. You even told her how he confiscated your toys, so self pleasure was out of the question too.

  “Summer, why are we always the ones paying the price for their stupidity?”

  “I don’t know, but Chris had the nerve to get a body pillow to separate us in bed. A body pillow Riah!”

  “They must be long lost brothers or something. Chris pulled that shit too, except he actually made a fucking wall Summer, a wall of pool noodles. Pool noodles!��

  Summer snickered and nearly fell out of her chair. You laughed too, but deep down, you were salty as fuck.

  “He is serious about this, Riah. I didn’t think he’d make it two days, but the week ends tomorrow, and he still won’t let me sit on it,” Summer whined. You felt her pain.

  “At least he didn’t take your toys.”

  Summer looked from side to side as she thought about it. “Hold on.”

  You watched as she walked through her mansion to the master bedroom. She perched the camera up and searched her belongings. You busied yourself looking through the folders that had been messengered over for the impending album. Suddenly you heard a loud squeal.

  “This mother--.”

  “Watch your mouth, Summer!”

  “Christopher Hemsworth, what did you do? Where is my bag of trix?”

  Chris came into the frame with a wide smile. “I have no idea what you’re referring to.”

  “Chris, I’m not being funny. Where is it?”

  “It’s safe. I found it a new home for the month.” Summer’s mouth dropped.

  “You had no right; it’s mine Christopher.”

  “What’s mine is yours, and yours is mine.”

  “If that were true, you’d give me that dick already!” She shrieked again, but Chris didn’t look threatened. He simply laughed then looked to the camera.

  “Riah, how are you, darling? How is this first week of November treating you and Evans?”

  You tried hard not to scowl, but the salty look on your face was a permanent fixation at this point.

  “Ah, I see, as well as Summer’s week. Cheerio, just three more to go. Eye on the prize. Tell Evans I’ll call him later. I’m off to get a workout.”

  “Yeah, yeah, no one cares. You have the best workout equipment here, and you’re just letting it grow cobwebs,” Summer spat.

  “Cobwebs? I think they have products for that babe.”

  Summer shrieked again before she launched a pillow at him. Chris shouted bye as he ran.

  “I have had it with him, Riah. All I want is some sex, is that too much to ask for?!”

  “I know. I thought Chris would be over it by now, but he isn’t. They’re serious,” you finished.

  The two of you sat there with pained, salty expressions. After almost a minute, the two of you gasped simultaneously. Your eyes met, and she looked like she had an idea.

  “I’ve got it,” the two of you said together.

  “What?” Again your voices overlapped.

  “You first,” a final time you said together. The two of you giggled before Summer spoke.

  “Sabotage!”

  You smiled widely and nodded. “I was thinking the same thing. We kick it up ten notches.”

  “You know what Cevans likes and is weak for, and I know what’ll make my Australian blonde go nuts. We use it,” Summer added.

  “Exploit the shit out of it. The gloves have to come off Summer. We turn this all the way up.”

  “Jamaica Hedonism style, anything goes,” she added as she nodded in agreement.

  “Our goal is to make them lose this bet. The question is who will lose first,” you finished. Summer’s face lit up, and your smile followed.

  “Oh girl, this is good. Payback is a bitch!”

  “May the husbands fail,” you both said together. The two of you looked determined. Your eye was on the prize, and the prize was your nut.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

***If you want to be tagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TagList:

@chrisgalore​ @chaneajoyyy​ @rynabarnesrogers​ @disneysdarlingdiva​ @bellaamor88​ @ab-baybay​ @sonjashuterbugjohnson​ @caramara3​ @patzammit​ @melodyofmbaku @kelbabyblue

[royallyprincesslilly]

Me @ Cevans after catching up on Rumor Has It: “step outside sis, I just wanna talk!!” Lol I am so frustrated with that man because he could of avoided allllllll of this if he just TALKED TO HIS WIFE!! About EVERYTHING! He really doesn’t think but now he has the nerves to be all like, “oh my wife! I love my wife! I’ll never hurt my wife!!” UM TO FREAKING LATE!! I have *some* sympathy for him but it’s very very thin but all my sympathy goes to Uriah because unlike Chris, she was actually trying to save her marriage and he’s now got her out here looking dumb because of some talentless bitch he wouldn’t put in her place about HIS marriage. I feel for Uriah and hate that she’s going to have to relive that pain again once her memory returns. No ones deserves Uriah, I hope she flourish without a man fucking up her lively hood and make her look like a joke!! This is how I know you’re a great writer because I’m fuming but can’t wait to see what happens lol😂

I know I am with you. On one hand Chris deserves to feel the pain of the consequences of his actions but on the other jeez our man is suffering.😭

Yeah, Uriah is in for a world of hurt when she remembers and everything that happened. I definitely feel bad for her.

Thank you so much for reading it and for your sweet compliment, 🥰🥰.

I am glas you're enjoying it despite the heart ache.

[willreadforbooze]

Hello fellow boozie readers!

Sam’s Update:

What a week. Work was shit but I had so much social fun time and I feel invigorated. This extrovert needed her people time. It’s also Medieval-a-thon!!! Check my TBR here.

What Sam finished this week:

The Simoquin Prophecies by Samit Basu: Good LORD this book took me entirely too long and I’m not happy about it. It’s not that bad I just wasn’t in the mood and then the potential wasted was disappointing.

What Sam’s reading now:

  Medieval-a-thon Cape: Kingdom of the Blazing Phoenix by Julie C. Dao: This is the follow up to Forest of a Thousand Lanterns. Linz reviewed this second book here. I’m enjoying this far more. I didn’t like FoaTL because the MC was so so very unlikeable and not in the good way. Following Jade is far more interesting. Though, I feel like we’re going to get the repetitive gotta-catch-em-all trope but we’ll see. –

Medieval-a-thon Sword: The Heartwood Crown by Matt Mikalatos: I am about halfway through this book and I’d forgotten what an ABSOLUTE DELIGHT this world is. I loved book one, here’s my review of The Crescent Stone.

Ginny’s Update:

Hi everyone. I’m super tired because it was a good weekend and I got a lot done but this week might hurt a little bit. Luckily a bunch of good things have happened so at least it’s happy rambling.

Currently Reading:

  Becoming by Michelle Obama: I put this book on hold like six months ago. I am fucking pumped! Michelle Obama has this beautiful lyrical way of writing and I can’t wait to read more.

The Unlikely Escape of Uriah Heep by H.G. Parry: This is a book that Sam picked up and let me read before her (hahaha) because we have been flooded with books which is really the best problem in the world to have. Charley can read fictional characters into the world. Rob, his older brother, feels responsible for helping him put them back. But it turns out there are a bunch of fictional characters living out in the world and there’s a mysterious evil force too. I’m enjoying this so far. I’m pretty sure I know what the twist is gonna be, but I’m looking forward to getting there.

Finished: (Editor’s Note: Good lord Virginia…. )

  The Brazen and the Beast by Sarah MacLean: I’m not going to bother with a summary here. I like the way the heroine goes about getting her independence and really enjoyed her as a character. I felt the Whit was a perfectly fine hero unless he was talking about his creepy brother. That as a plotline didn’t super interest me. I liked the (relatively) diverse representation in this book and enjoyed the world building. 3.5/5 

After the Crown by K.B. Wagers:  The first half of this book was a little bit rough, but the second half took off like a shot. I’ve written a review of this one. Keep an eye out for it!

All Systems Red by Martha Wells: This is one of the murderbot books and I know both Sam and Parker have read them and loved them so it should come as no surprise that I loved it too! This book is all from the point of view of a cyborg that has been leased out to an exploratory group as security. They realize partway through that ‘murderbot’ is partially human and might freak out. Meanwhile there are some weird things going on and boy way this fun. Still might write a review but this was definitely a 5/5

Magic For Liars by Sarah Gailey: Imagine Harry Potter if the teenagers were more realistic dicks and everyone was pretty damn hormonal. As a murder mystery this functioned really nicely, I liked the blend of traditional ‘noir’ tropes with magic and the fantasty tropes that tend to show up there. Planning on writing a review so keeping this short.

The Governess Affair by Courtney Milan: This was a novella and was super short, but it added a little bit of background to one of her existing series. It was fun to watch the way the propriety of the past could be used as a weapon in both directions. Very fun, and the way consent was handled was ridiculously great. 4/5

The Bride Test by Helen Hoang: Gotta admit, I’m still not super sure how I feel about this one. I really enjoyed the Kiss Quotient (Linz reviewed this!) and was really looking forward to this. It’s mostly, I’m not sure I really truly believed the love story between ‘Esme’ and Khai. I enjoyed their individual story lines (the fact that Khai getting better about recognizing his own emotions being tied back to family really got me) but I felt there was a lot of telling rather than showing in the deeper emotional moments. Still, it was a perfectly fine read. 3.5/5

DNF

The Mars Room by Rachel Kushner: I don’t even remember when this book went onto my TBR. Honestly, the beginning of this book reminded me of the Goldfinch which won a ton of goddamn awards and was a fucking slog to get through. I’m not the biggest fan of misery for miseries sake. And that’s probably a harsh description of this book. All I know is that the back and forth through time storytelling aspect didn’t work for me when multiple vignettes include characters who were mind-numbingly frustrating. Between Bookcon and ALA I have so many books I desperately want to read and not nearly enough time. I didn’t feel the need to push my way through this one.

Minda’s Update:

Work trip this week then the lovely Sam’s birthday trip, so this may or may not be a big reading week, but here’s what’s on the agenda!

What Minda finished:

Wilder Girls by Rory Power – This book is pretty gruesome and descriptive, but in a good way. Just make sure you are in the mood to have your skin crawl! Release date is July 9—so be on the lookout. 

What Minda is reading now:

  Tiger Queen by Annie Sullivan – A retelling (I know, another one but I’m really into them rn) of the famous short story, “The Lady, or the Tiger.” Honestly haven’t read it, but I saw her panel on YA females in power at ALA and added it to the list!

Gravemaidens by Kelly Coon – Received the ARC on Netgalley dropping in Oct. It’s a duology featuring three women, one of whom is determined to save her sister from death. Looking forward to starting.

Linz’s Update:

Whyyyyy the fuck did I host two book clubs this weekend?

What Linz read:

  Swipe Right for Murder by Derek Milman – I’ve been seeing this pop up a LOT on social media, probably because ARCs abounded at BookCon. I’ll be reviewing, so I don’t want to say a lot, but  It’s kind of like The Fugitive, featuring The Gay Agenda.

Brazen and the Beast by Sarah MacLean – I did NOT care for Wicked and the Wallflower, but Ginny is a fan of her books and told me to give MacLean’s latest book a shot. I didn’t care that much for this one either tbh. MacLean’s writing isn’t bad by any means, but I think her style of romance novels just isn’t for me.

The Beholder by Anna Bright – Boy will I ever be reviewing this alt-history debut novel about a girl who needs to find a husband to become the next leader of her people.

What Linz is currently reading:

  The Heartwood Crown by Matt Mikalatos – awwwwwwww this book. Loving this sequel to The Crescent Stone

We Regret to Inform You by Ariel Kaplan – an overachieving high school student gets rejected from every single college she applied to, and she’s left struggling to figure out her next step. I already hate this book in the best way – it takes place in DC, and the mother and daughter share a car to school/work, and my PTSD is kicking in from the memories of learning how to drive on the Beltway with my mom.

Until next time, we remain forever drunkenly yours,

Sam, Melinda, Linz, and Ginny

Weekly Wrap-Up: June 24-30, 2019 Hello fellow boozie readers! Sam's Update: What a week. Work was shit but I had so much social fun time and I feel invigorated.