#and have ideas for Nor and Swe
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im cringe but im free
#i couldnt decide which i liked best#hetalia#hws iceland#aph iceland#emil steilsson#ponytalia#is this an existing tag?#hetalia fanart#hws#aph#hetalia iceland#i have a design for Dan too but i dont like the sketch#and have ideas for Nor and Swe#so maybe ill do the rest#idk though#emil.art#tumblr wouldnt let me post from mobile so i hope this works
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@honeydreamhearts
Geta didn’t remember the last time he was on the receiving end of affection and love as unconditional and unprovoked as yours. Even if he did it was merely a faded memory with blurred out faces and voices that he could no longer recall of whom they once belonged to.
The moment he ascended to the throne tender touches of love and affection were the last thing he wanted nor needed when ruling an empire with his twin brother, whom took just as much out of him as being emperor did, as the weight on his shoulders from his duties made him become more temperamental and prone to snapping more quicker then others; along with the perpetual tiredness he often experienced with everything that he had to handle alone.
And that is not even mentioning the senate that schemed to see him and Caracalla overthrown for a better suited candidate.
So whenever you held his face within your hands, caressing his cheeks and looking upon him like he could do no wrong. Geta wanted to move away from you as the touch and feelings your brought forth within him were foreign, or at the very least long forgotten, and suppressed under the pressures of being a man with so much power but yet feeling so out of control and out of his element when things happen spontaneously without pre warnings.
Yet other then slightly jerking his head away from your grasp, Geta remained where he was as his dark eyes watched your every movement, almost as though he was waiting for you to do something that would justify his weariness and his need to prove that nobody could be trusted. He waits and he waits, and he waits for the moment where your betrayal would arise but it doesn’t, instead your fingers brush against his aching temples, breeze past the dark bags under his exhausted eyes all the while you looked at him as though he was nothing short of perfect.
It worried him greatly at just how such displays of affection had him acting like a cornered animal within his own home, Geta didn’t understand it, nor the way his body seemed to soon find comfort in your affectionate displays and yearn for more as he finds himself leaning into your palms. Finding more comfort in your hands then he ever did in the arms and words of anyone else past or present.
He was too tired to fight and his voice was hoarse from all his yelling, he was too tired from holding Caracalla back as he went through his episodes where his illness took over, everything ached within him that begged for rest. It was moments like these where he is reminded that he is very much human but the moment the golden laurels touched his head, the idea of power and greed made him feel like he was one closer to the deities he called upon for judgment and guidance, it’s easy to forget your origins when you have the power to rewrite how you come across in history yet to come.
The kisses were another thing that he had to grow accustomed to also before later becoming addicted to as you’d scatter them across his face and just where he needed them the most. Geta knew he wasn’t affectionate in the slightest, possessive? Yes but he was greedy when it came to you and your spontaneous bouts of love that he couldn’t get enough of.
He once hated spontaneity as it never brought him anything good, but when it brought him an abundance of your touches on his arms, hands, jaw, cheek and or hair, then he’s more then willing to be subjected to your seemingly never ending need to shower him with all the love that he could’ve ever hoped to have in his entire lifetime.
Sure there maybe times where he couldn’t give you all of him, being an emperor meant being anywhere but your side, however when he was he was more or less expectant of you to be all over him as you kissed his lips until they were bruised and deliciously puffed up. He loved to be lavished and with you he would always find himself being in no shortage of being loved, of being wanted and desired without having it thinly veiling something sinister.
It was pure, sweet, warm and Geta didn’t know how much he needed you showering him in kisses, running your hands through his hair or even brushing aside loose eyelashes that you find upon his cheeks, using it as an excuse to kiss the apples of his cheeks before giving his Cupid’s bow some much needed attention. Geta had no need for concubines as much as he used to, not when now that he had someone who would wholeheartedly give him their heart on a golden platter without question, you didn’t needed to be provoked to love him because you did truly love him without his influence to persuade you into doing so.
You love him enough to go out of your way to hold him close, keeping him pressed against your heart, and all Geta could find himself able to do was burry himself into your chest and cling only your waist desperately and firmly. He needed this and he knew it but didn’t want to admit it to himself as it meant admitting to being human, however the moment he felt you touch his hands or kiss his lips, he felt himself crumbling under your touch and yearning for more but feeling unable to do so due to his position of power.
After all it was unbecoming of an emperor to ask for anything that he didn’t have and especially form someone who wasn’t similar to him in upbringing and status. So when he finally finds his voice and makes his move to let it be known that he’s weak under your touch, it’s only in moments of severe vulnerability where Geta thinks nothing else could get worse as he looks at you with those big brown eyes wet with tears, looking pathetic but beautiful at the same time as you kiss away his tears while he whimpers underneath you. (I need to stop)
However feeling as helpless and powerless as he did under your touch was the best feeling Geta could have ever felt in his life, for your affection held more power then he lets on and it would be travesty to have that come to an end.
#emperor geta imagines#emperor geta x reader#geta x reader#geta x you#emperor geta x you#emperor geta x y/n#Geta imagine#Geta imagines#emperor geta imagine
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love the idea of ice being more sensitive than the others❤️ but I bet if it got really bad, norway would comfort him🥺😔❤️
do you have more headcanons?💛
i have SO many headcanons bro the nordics have been my faves for getting on like 10yrs and i love the whale bros especially due to their emotional fuckwittery.
- while swe and den will tease ice in more normal ways which he can deal with, nor specialises in a kind of blunt, monotone, repetitive teasing which really pushes ice's buttons. like when i was 10 my older brother would use "cool" as a withering put down and you couldn't complain about it because out of context it didn't make sense why that was so annoying. as anyone with siblings will know, sometimes it's all in the tone and attitude.
- ice is more sensitive due to his age/comparative youth compared to the others/the whole volcano thing (easily riled up) so he does get tag teamed a lot but equally if den or nor are giving him a hard time one of the others is likely to join the fight on his side.
- swe doesn't tend to start shit but he can handle himself well if he gets pulled into it.
- den starts shit all the time, has no idea how to de-escalate or when to knock his shit off, and often cannot take what he dishes out.
- nor starts shit all the time as well although is better at making it look like someone else did and is fairly unflappable himself.
- ice starts shit without meaning to and then regrets it.
- fin doesn't start shit but is very good at finishing it. he gets ripped on a lot and is secure enough to take it, in the knowledge that he could beat any of their asses if he chose.
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Smol Nordics ÒwÓ
Please feel free to take a moment to imagine the toddler Nordics and baby Iceland.
Picture Sweden as the youngest of the Nordics except for Iceland, but being treated as the oldest by humans and being told he "should know better" simply because he grew up tall, so fast. Simply because humans thought he LOOKED oldest. 😢
Imagine Iceland doing incoherent babbling and toddler Sweden answering back as if Iceland just gave the best idea/advice in history. 💖 xD
Norway and Denmark thinking Sweden sounds like an old man doing it. 😂 xD
Finland suspecting Sweden actually understood Iceland's baby-talk. 😂 xD
Imagine toddler Sweden's shy ass hiding behind a big rock, only his head sticking out, while glaring at humans passing by in an attempt to see what kind of people they are... and accidentally scaring the living daylights out of the humans when they suddenly see the glaring eyes stick out over the rock. 😂 xD
Then picture Norway having toddler moments where it looked like he was floating/flying around while "sitting", when in reality he just got special treatment and was carried around by his troll friend. 😂
Also, Nor's troll absolutely helped out with carrying Iceland at times before Nor/Den/Swe/Fin were big enough to carry Iceland themselves. 💖w💖
Once they were big enough to carry Iceland themselves, the most common fight between Norway and Denmark was who would get to carry Iceland - while Finland tried to act as the peacemaker. While they were busy fighting, Sweden usually just picked up Iceland and started walking away, knowing the rest would eventually realize they had been left behind and hurry after to catch up. 😂 xD
Iceland's own favorite people to be carried by were Sweden and Finland. Sweden because he was the tallest, and Finland because he was both the strongest and softest. 💝
Norway is the best fisher of the Nordics, Finland the best hunter and berry finder, Denmark the best camp-guard. Part of how Sweden eventually became the best builder is because he usually ended up staying behind to prepare their camp for the evening and baby-sit Iceland.
The Nordic Iceland turned to usually depended on what he needed that moment. He would always turn to Norway for food and good stories, Denmark when he had nightmares, Sweden for scraped knees and sweets, and Finland for general comfort and moments of less over-protectiveness.
As destined "baby brother" of the family Iceland got camp-duty with Sweden once he became a little older (to keep him out of danger), where Iceland mainly helped helping Sweden with things like feeding the fire/keeping an eye on the cooking or laying out their bedrolls for the night.
Norway always slept between Denmark and Sweden to avoid petty fights between the two. 😂 Finland usually climbed a tree and slept in it, feeling safer from wild animals in the oak- and fir trees.
.
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Can I hear more about your OC's? Doesn't matter who, it can be any
YES YES YOU CAN I LOVE YOU SO MUCH
okokokokok so this is going to be SO disorginized but i'm gonna talk about my hre oc bc the only canon character i truly hate is hre i want to punt the child
her human name is Adelheid Dietrich but she regularly just goes by Heidi. Her first name means Nobility, and her last name means Ruler of the people; very fitting name for how much power she held in Europe for so long.
Her parents are Gaul and Germania, she very notably was never very close with her mother, and very close with her father until the the last few years of his life. (The Saxon wars, and Heimeric's own refusal to convert contributed to the deterioration in their relationship but that deserves it's own post) I don't have her exact year of birth pinned down yet, but sibling wise she is between Austria and Switzerland. Roderich being a few years older, and Aldrich being a few years younger. Heidi is only 1 of 2 girls in the family and was fiercely protective of Belgium, even as adults, if anything happened to Bel she would regularly blame herself for 'letting' it happen. She had decently rocky relationships with most of her siblings, but would get in screaming matches with Denmark over the most insignificant things. Reasonably bitter because she did end up substitute mom for about half her younger siblings, specifically Netherlands, Belgium & England. And she should not have had to do that. Eldest Daughter Syndrome(TM) personified. Would get into an argument with Dan, Nor, and Swe not long after their father died that would consist of "Everything i've done to keep our family together and this is how you thank me? 'No'? Just because you don't want to? Do you know all i've given up? I didn't get a childhood. But it's fine. Do what you want." v much a The things she said weren't right, but the emotions she was having were definitely there.
She was terrified of death. Just from the moment she gained consciousness she couldn't think of anything worse then running out of time. And tbh that's probably what drew her to Christianity, and kept her there, the idea that death wouldn't be the end, and it would be a happy after. John 3:16 "For God so loved the world that He gave His only son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but have eternal life" She's sold before the missionary can say anything else. That didn't stop her from being independent to a fault, which is where Lutheranism came into play; she was tired of being under Vatican's thumb (for lack of better term) so the moment the Reformation came around she was on board with that too. But all of that isn't to say she didn't have a complicated relationship with religion especially after a relationship--that i'll get to in a minute--constantly held it over her head as the whole reasoning for why she shouldn't do certain things; and it always worked because nothing scared her more than the idea that doing something would send her to Hell.
Anyway on romantic relationships; she was super queer. Would probably identify as bisexual in the year of our Lord 2023. She only ever had 2 notably relationships with other personifications; the first was with Czechia. It was very secretive, they were young, and dumb, and swore they would love no one but each other. (I actually wrote a little thing about them here). It somewhat obviously did not work out, because Heidi was scared of someone finding out about them, and after almost a century of being together she thought someone was getting to close to figuring it out; Adéla tried to insist it would be fine. Heidi panicked came up with a plan, and got Adéla to agree to it without telling her what it was. Within a couple months not a single person thought Adéla and Heidi were together... no they were too busy talking about how Clemens (Vatican) had supposedly broken his chastity vow and 'you'll never believe who for.' That was the end of her relationship with Czechia; it wasn't supposed to be. But it was.
Her second one was also a 'secret' but everyone knew about it. (so side note on my Vatican oc; remember he was born to represent West Rome and his land claim diminished as his children came along. Until eventually he picked up the title of the papal states then Vatican/Holy See). They met long before their 'romantic' relationship started, when Germania brought his at the time only daughter along to Rome and Vatican decided he just had to have her, and the sons of Rome usually get what they want. When they were very young they had a psuedo-relationship that really just happened because it was the first time they thought someone was cute and the other person thought the same. When she slept with him to cover her and Adéla's tracks, it was calculated. She had to have proof, and she had to have one or two people who she knew would talk have an inkling that it happened so rumors would start. What she didn't count on was him still having some of those feelings from hundreds of years earlier, she assumed he'd moved on completely. His children had to have come from somewhere. But now that Czechia didn't want anything to do with her she thought 'fuck it' and went along with a relationship that she didn't really want, but by now wasn't going to refuse either. And they would just stay that way, off and on, usually just sleeping with each other not much actual substance, but not so little that either would leave. They were just Stuck.
Jumping forward a bit to her death, she and Germany had a little less than a month overlap. He was born July 12th, 1806; and she died August 6th, 1806. She was already very sick when he was born, but asked to see him every day without fail. Austria told her eventually that he was sending Germany to live with Prussia, deemed he would be safer anywhere but Vienna. She argued with him over that, for a long time; insisted she wouldn't trust Brandenburg or Prussia to rear a child if they were some of the last people on earth. Austria got fed up, told her Germany was his son and he would do whatever he wanted with him. She argued back Germany was her heir, and she believed her heir should be raised in Vienna, not Königsburg, not Berlin, not Potsdam, Vienna. The argument stood until her death two weeks later, Austria to this day wishes he hadn't told her.
Everyone in the house knew about Heidi's fear, there wasn't a single person in Europe that didn't know about it. They all waited for something to register, for it to kick in that she more than likely wouldn't be making it another month, much less another year. But it never did, August 1st she got better, and for a solid two days she was even out of bed; it was during this Austria and Prussia caught her giving Germany a little speech.
"Now, you'll be taking over my job. I'm not promising it's an easy one because it isn't. The ones under you are insane, every last one, constantly fighting and they're changing all the time; every time you turn around someone new will have shown up, or someone else will have disappeared. I hope not too many disappear on you, but eventually you get used to it, and not in a sad way, in a "maybe they're off living their own life without the responsibility of thousands of peoples lives now". Unfortunately the annoying ones stick around the longest, your father is one, your uncle Gilbert is another. Saxony, Bavaria, Hesse, Brandenburg etc.. you'll have to get used to them, I don't think they're going anywhere. I know your parents are worried for you right now, but I'm sure it's completely unfounded and they're just dramatic. You'll be just fine... I wish I could stay to watch you grow up, i'm sure you'll be in charge of this whole continent eventually. You have to promise you'll make your family talk about me, don't let them be too sad about it, I want to be known as the interesting aunt not the one who died when you were a baby. Can you promise me that Ludwig?"
after those two days she got bad again though, worse than she was initially, and three days later she passed away. The moment they were waiting for never came, she didn't seem scared about the end; she put in her will someone has to make sure whoever killed her knew that she wasn't scared.
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FINDUS!!! Okay, so you know how we've discussed how Norwegians have surnames more based on where they are from rather than "[name]'s son" like Sweden (& Denmark) used to have? Anyway, I suddenly got ENLIGHTENED with an idea recently about that: Nordbror. What if that's what (accidentally) ended up as Nor/Den/Swe's (and Ice's) surname? It highlights both the fact that they're from the North, but also their relationship with each other (brother) - a mix from all of them. OwO . Bonus: Inside joke about "söte/søte bror". xD . - What do you think? OwO . Idk why, but my brain is really starting to gets stuck on that name now. xD
okay I love that as a play on "søta bror" actually 🥺🥺
Unsure about how it would work as a surname though? It's the "bror" that's throwing me off I think 🤔
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Do you have any Nyo Sufin Hc's of Nyo Nordic polycule hc's ?
That's such a good question actually, I don't think about the nyos a lot in general but somehow I really enjoy the idea of a nyo nordic polycule so thanks for stimulating my brain I guess :D
I think sweden is the only nordic with a canon design (tall, glasses, long straight blond hair, no as 'scary' looking as her male counterpart) so that's the look I imagine for her. I hc nyo finland as short and chubby, somewhat round and soft with shoulder-long blond hair and rosy cheeks, very cottage core if that makes sense.
They are opposites in many ways, but they both share their love for the simple things in live. Homemade food (especially pastries!), long evenings with each other and their girlfriends, a little house of their own with a garden to grow vegetables and fruit and flowers. I feel like this sounds very cliché but that's definitely what I hc for them <3
Since you sent this to my nsfw blog I guess I should also talk about how else they spend their evenings and that being said I think the girls are a lot softer but in no way less creative than the boys. Naturally they own a couple of toys (and the collection qudruples when they move in together with nyo den and nyo nor) and one of nyo fin's favourite evening activities is teasing nyo sweden by having her kneel in front of her and rubbing a wand all over her pussy and lips and clit just to pull it away when she's getting too close. Nyo sweden makes the prettiest noises, so who is nyo fin to blame. Also this position is perfect for her to grind against her partner and to play with nyo sweden's sensitive nipples. Usually nyo fin is the more dominant part in their relationship, but sometimes she also likes to slacken the reins and let nyo swe worship every last nook and cranny of her body until nyo swe's lips linger between her legs, licking and sucking and maybe even using a finger or two to fuck nyo fin until she cums with nothing but praise for her girlfriend on her lips <333
It's either that or nyo fin pegging nyo swe into absolute oblivion.
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Game Night
Pairing: Dean x reader
Prompts: Dean Winchester (Monday), Best Friends to Lovers (Tuesday), Game Night (Friday) & There’s only one bed (Saturday) - this was written for @negans-lucille-tblr ‘s 7k Writing Challenge
Word Count: 1.3k
Warning: fluff, talk about some injuries (nothing graphic)
Summary: The reader and Deans game night takes place in a different setting and reveals some secrets.
A/n: This fic isn’t betaed, all mistakes are my own. I’d be very happy about any kind of feedback, I’m still new to writing and most of the time I don’t have an idea what I’m doing if I’m honest.
Baby was parked safely in the only open parking spot of the slightly run-down motel. Normally you and the boys would drive back to the bunker after each hunt, the comfort of having a home and sleeping in your beds is a million times better than sleeping in all the motels.
But not this time, a simple salt and burn hunt turned out to be more complicated than originally thought. The ghost was mad, beyond mad and he wasn’t alone, bringing his friends to the party in the dark cemetery wasn’t the plan.
You and Dean still managed to burn the bones of the old mass grave and get out of there alive. Alive, but injured. Your shoulder was still throbbing, your arms littered with bruises and little scratches from the rose bushes and trees. The cut on your hip stopped bleeding during the short ride in Baby.
“They only had one room left,” said Dean when he joined you in the driving lot, “I wasn’t in the mood to argue with the receptionist, not after this hunt.” His voice sounded defeated, the hunt took a damper on his happy mood.
“That’s okay, let’s just go to sleep and forget about today,” you replied, trying to take one of the bags you’ve stored in the truck of Baby for emergency overnight stays like now.
“Let me take this, sweetheart,” Dean said before grabbing the duffel bag and closing the truck of his beloved car again, “you’re still hurt.”
Normally you would’ve argued with the older Winchester brother, you weren’t the only one who’s injured, at least not this time.
Dean had his fair share of bruises and bumps from this hunt, one of the ghosts thought it'd be a good idea to throw the hunter around, he clearly didn’t know that this would just anger him even more.
It wasn’t that much of a surprise to you nor Dean when you opened the motel room to only see one bed. It wouldn’t be the first time you’re forced to share a bed with Dean.
You slowly opened up the buttons of your plaid shirt, being careful when you came close to the area of the deeper cut. You could faintly make out a patch of dried blood on the navy-colored shirt you had underneath.
Trying to peel off the shirt was more painful than you thought I’d be, your muscles hurting and screaming in pain to stop moving, the area around the cut was sticky with blood and clinging painfully to the shirt.
Dean turned around when he heard your grunts of pain, his eyes immediately falling just above your hip where the cut was.
“Do you need help? The cut doesn’t look that good,” he said, “I think it will be better if I help you.”
You just nodded, not trusting your voice at this moment. Dean slowly began to move the shirt over your head, carefully not to hurt you in any way.
He carefully puts his hands on your waist, avoiding all the bruises and the cut.
“Do you want me to help to bandage you up? You can take the shower after that,” Dean said, already moving away to get the small first aid kit.
He carefully cleaned the cut, stopping when you quietly hissed at the sharp pain. His movements are light, trying to avoid any spots that might hurt you even more.
“There you go.”
“Go take a shower,” you said to Dean, “you’re dirtier than I am and I can wait a few minutes,” you said, knowing that if you’ll take the shower first Dean would need to wait a bit longer this time.
“I promise you, I won’t die till then,” you said, trying to joke around a bit.
“Thank you for patching me up, De.”
“No problem, sweetheart,” he said softly, “I promise I won’t take too long in the shower or use all the hot water.”
Dean kept his promise, he didn’t take long to shower and get ready for the night.
“The shower’s all yours, y/n,” Dean said when he left the bathroom.
You went into the bathroom, taking your time to let the last bits of warm water wash over your dirty skin and to clean the smaller cuts. When you came out, changed into a way to big shirt and some shorts, you spotted Dean sitting in the bed, leaning against the headboard and mixing some cards.
“You know what day today is?” Deans asked, watching you moving around in the small motel room. “It’s Friday, that means game night unless you’re too tired for it,” Dean said.
“Sure, why not,” you replied, your voice sounding tired from the long and exhausting day. “Not sure how long I’ll be able to stay awake.”
Dean smiled softly at you, not expecting you to stay up way too late, after all, it was already after 10 pm and both of you were tired as hell.
The game night, however, has been a tradition between you and Dean since you joined them permanently a few months ago and moved into the bunker. Normally it’s just you and Dean who’s playing, it doesn’t matter if it’s in a motel room like now or the safety of one of your rooms in the bunker. On occasion, Sam would join the both of you for some rounds of cards or a round of The Game of Life.
“Where did you get the cards from?” You asked, not recognizing the cover, it wasn’t one from the bunker.
“It was in the nightstand, you remember the game we played in Arizona a few months ago? The one we brought in the store since we forgot to pack one?” He asked you, “it’s the same one, just an older version by the looks of it.” The color of the cards he showed you already faint, to just make it even harder to see the difference between blue and green.
“Alright,” you said, clapping with your hands, “lets the games begin!” You chuckled.
You and Dean played a few rounds, joking around while playing, trying to forget about the past few hours.
“Let’s go to sleep,” you said, yawning shortly after.
It didn’t take long to pack the few cards away, storing the old game of UNO back into the nightstand.
“You okay with me cuddling you,” asked Dean. It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to cuddle together, either when you shared motel beds or while sharing the couch during a movie in the Dean cave.
He probably asked because of your hip, not wanting to hurt you even more.
“Yes Dean, you can cuddle me. In fact, I wouldn’t mind a good cuddle session with my best friend to round up this wonderful evening after this terrible day,” you replied, already laying down on one side of the bed.
His arms moving around you, avoid the part of your hip where the cut and bandage is. His huge and warm hand resting comfortably on your stomach, his thump drawing small circles. His warm breaths fanning over the back of your neck.
“Good night Dean,” you said, voice already tired. “Good night sweetheart.”
It’s been a few minutes since you said good night to Dean, you were close to falling asleep when you felt him move behind you. He pulled you close to his body, his head resting in the crook of your neck when you felt his lips placed a soft kiss on your neck.
“You can never know this sweetheart, but I love you. I love you so damn much. But I know, I know that you won’t feel the same and that I’ll ruin this, ruin our friendship if I say a thing about it or let it show. Did you know that I love moments like these? When we cuddle together and you’re asleep. I can talk as much as I want, not worrying about you hearing me.”
Part 2
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Dean/Jensen: @akshi8278
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This is going to be my first post and a Tumblr exclusive. At lease for now 😭. I plan on uploading it to WattPad once I’m done.
⚠️Warning⚠️: This will be a gay erotic short story primarily about sniffing, manly scents and underwear fetish. This is NSFW. If sniffing/scents/gas is not in your lane this is not the story for you.
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Ca$h Pig
By: ᥴꪮꪀᦓρ꠸᥅ꪖᦓꫀꫀ
Ca$h Pig • Also known as financial domination, a pay pig is a submissive person who gets sexual gratification from being financially exploited.
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I quickly grabbed my phone out to snap a pic of this niggas ass. I had seen him all the time but had no idea what his name was. I assumed he was from around here because he knew a number of people I was familiar with. I don’t remember him from school, church (not that I go to church 😭), social media, nothing. Who was this stranger?
Ima keep it a bean (keep it real) with you I’m not attracted to dudes, nor have I ever wanted to smash one. Pussy was constantly being throw at me so I didn’t have time to focus on niggas too. Despite not physically being attracted to dudes there was one aspect that I couldn’t escape. It constantly waived its finger at me, calling me when no one was around.
*Daydream Segue*
Me: ......
Booty:
*Back to the Present*
So I know I said I didn’t like dudes which I definitely don’t... But a mans ass is another story. Is it possible to only be attracted to a booty? An ass was an ass to me whether on a man or a woman. However it was something about a mans ass.
As I approached him I felt my dick trying to slowly unzip my pants. It wanted so badly to break free and just bust all over his back while he taunted me with his unwashed hole. Not that I assumed it was dirty but I was hoping it wasn’t fresh out the shower.
“I would pay anything to put my face in it.”
I found myself saying in a low tone. But wtf did I mean by that? Pay a nigga to sniff his ass? What I look like? I get offers from niggas all the time. Why would I need to pay one to sniff his ass? Sad thing is I really would pay just to sniff it. I just want to smell the gap where his butt meets his jeans sooooo bad 😩. Dam I’m a nasty ass mf!!!
I don’t know what I needed to do to get it but I needed to smell this niggas ass. It needed to happen today. The next time I nutted I wanted it to be with a face full of his ass. I won’t have it any other way. I didn’t know shit about this man but I knew I needed to know one thing. I needed to know what his ass smelled like once his cheeks were opened 👃🏽.
Before I got a chance to figure out a game plan my lips betrayed me.
“Excuse me?” Wtf was I doing and wtf was I about to say? I could hear myself screaming at my inner voice!!!
Stranger: “What’s good?” *turns around*
Now again I’d just like to repeat I am not attracted to dudes AT ALL!!! But goooooood daaaaaaaaaaaamm!! When this nigga turned around he was finer than a mf. Like fine fine. I had to calm myself down for a second so I could take in all his features. I paused to take a moment to acknowledge how gay that just sounded and how I didn’t like it honestly. I’ll have more time to think about that later though.
I guess since I be minding my own business all the time I never really checked dude out. When he turned around he was about 6’4, 220lbs of solid ass muscle, hazel eyes, pretty pink lips and gorgeous white teeth. The man was almost perfect. I say almost because it just had to be something wrong with him. He had to be unemployed, living with his mama, got 12,000 kids or something 😭. Literally no one should be that perfect. Shit weird lol.
____________________________________________
“😳..... Oh I feel you. My bad.”
There has to be a word that goes beyond embarrassed because I was experiencing it right now times infinity. My face began to get hot, my mouth started drying up. My hands started sweating. “Oh god oh god oh god... what have I done?” I knew this shit was a bad idea. Do I just walk away orrrrrr?????? Yea ima just do that. I nodded my head and began to walk away and all of a sudden I hear him bust out laughing
Stranger: “😂🤣🤣🤣... I’m just fucking wit you! You better not be smoking on no Reggie (low quality weed). Where we scrolling up (rolling up) at?”
“🥴”
I let out a loud internal sigh of relief. My heart slowly began transcending back into my chest and I was now able to breath again. To keep it real that response had me second guessing myself. If that’s how I felt over that little situation imagine what hearing no to my real question would feel like. I would literally never come here again which sucked because it was my favorite gas station in the city. They had the cheapest gas, it was central to everything and I’ve been coming here since I was a kid. Should I really be doing this? Maybe I’ll just leave it at smoking and just sniff that picture of his ass I took earlier and bust a nut 🥴. Nothing about that plan sounded appealing. I wanted some ass on my face. End of discussion. I was doing this!
Like I said I’ve been coming here since I was a kid so I know everything about this place. I’ve smoked in this parking lot numerous times so I was aware this was a safe place. Hell he was standing outside smoking and no one was bothering him.
“We can go smoke in my whip it’s right over there.”
I pointed to my car which was around the corner in a discreet spot.
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I call it my spot because I’m the only person I ever see park in it. I’ve been smoking in this spot well before I was even able to buy a wrap to roll the weed in. It seemed like the perfect place to do what I was trying to do I thought devilishly to myself.
We walked over to my car and I could see him admiring my BMW. He didn’t say it out loud but it was written all over the expression on his face. Almost saw a light turn on in his head. Not really sure what that light meant but we gone look further into it.
We both hopped in the car, I turned it on so I could turn on the radio. I put on EST Gee, MoneyBagg Yo- Special Remix.
I reached for the glove compartment because that’s where my weed was stashed. My elbow was now slightly between his legs causing it to graze his knee almost resting there. Oddly enough he didn’t move nor did his facial expression change. Was I pushing his limits or trying my luck? Probably a little of both 😈.
We both reclined our chairs a little and started bopping our heads to the music. I stared at him out the corner of my eye and noticed he already had a blunt rolled up in his ear. “Oh this nigga came prepared.” I thought to myself. The universe must have known of my devious plan before I did.
“I’ve seen you around before. What’s your name? I probably should’ve asked that’s before we got to this point 😅.”
Stranger: “Probably huh? Yea you was too busy trying to take pictures of my ass to worry about my name.”
I blinked a few times to take in the scenery because I was suddenly unaware of my surroundings. I looked up and it all I could see was a hard dirty black surface. I ran my fingers across it to confirm my suspicions. I was now underneath my car. My body had fused through the seat, then the floor and I was now on the ground. “Did he really see that?” I started biting my nails nervously in my head.
He finished rolling up and hit the Blunt. He hit is a few times and then passed it to me looking me directly in my eyes setting my whole body on fire. I had to look away before grabbing the blunt. His eyes were indescribable. He had the kind of eyes you could only look into for a few seconds before blushing. What I look like blushing? Especially over some nigga.
Rock: “And to answer your questions my name is Rock.”
“ROCK 😳......” Uhhhhhhhh I’m really hoping he doesn’t mean ROCK as in ROCK from 5th and Landry. ROCK who shoots first and asks questions later. ROCK who only had to snap his finger and you’d disappear. Wtf did I just do? I fucked up real bad. I’m way closer to him than I feel comfortable being. Did he get in the car so no one would hear me screaming. Everything in my body was telling me to run. How do I get out of this? I have to get him out my car. I was about to do the dumbest shit ever. I could have just got my life ended.
“Rock from 5th?”
Rock: “You’ve heard of me.” He asked with this sexy ass grin on knowing dam well I heard of him. Shit who hasn’t?
“Uhhhhh.... yes I have. I think just about everyone around here has 😅”
I took a few more pulls then passed it back to him. He did the same as music blared on in the background and the air filled with good gas.
Rock: “Word... so then you know what I’ll do to you.”
All of a sudden the air was cut with a serious tone. His tone of voice cut a perfect line of view so I could now see his face through all the smoke. I felt my body getting heavy again. “Dam I knew this was going to happen. This nigga was going to kill me and probably take my whip 🤣.” It wasn’t funny but it was a funny way to die I laughed to myself. Shit if I’m going to die may as well try and smell this nigga booty. I’ve gotten this far. I’m dead either either way. I don’t have anything to loose at this point.
“.......... Yes I am well aware but you gone have to fuck me up because this ain’t gone be no easy win!” I say jokingly trying to cut the tension that was sitting on my dashboard staring at my with its legs crossed. When I looked up trying to read his face again it was evident he was not enthused.
Rock: “I must look like joke to you.” He says plainly as he passed me back the blunt.
Somehow I got the feeling I was treading on thin Ice. I don’t know how we got here though. Was it because I didn’t address that comment he made earlier? Wtf was I supposed to say?
“My bad did I do something?” I asked really wanting to know what caused the sudden mood change as he lit the second blunt.
Rock: “Yea why were you taking pictures of my ass? & what question did you want to ask me?”
“😰”
____________________________________________
“I..... uhhhhh.... because...”
Rock: “I uhh... Spit it out nigga!”
“......”
Rock: “Let’s take this one question at a time and this going to be the last time I ask.”
I see him reach down into his sock and pull out a 380 and placed it on his lap.
Rock: “Maybe this will give you a little motivation. Now why were you taking pics of my ass?”
The truth shall set you free was all I could think to myself. I tried to think of any lie that was better than the truth but I couldn’t think of anything so here goes nothing.
“I’m not gay but if I can say this without getting shot....It was out...I couldn’t help myself.”
Rock: “So you just going around stealing pictures of people?” He asked while shifting the gun in his lap leaving his hand on the trigger.
“Rock my bad frfr if you saw it from the WHOLE worlds POV you’d understand. That ass is enough to make any straight man look twice.”
Although I meant every word I didn’t mean to be so frank I was just trying to insinuate.
Rock: “.........”
“😵.” I think I’ve died at least 3 times during this conversation. This time making 4.
Rock: “And your question?”
“Well......I was wondering.....If.”
I could hear the gun shifting around again causing the words to get stuck in my throat again.
Rock: “You know how I feel about that stuttering shit.”
*Takes a deep ass breath sucking up all the oxygen the wasn’t being used in the car*
“I really wanted to smoke. You seemed cool. I’ve seen you before and I really don’t like rolling those leaves. I know how to roll them but I don’t like to.”
Rock: *Puts gun to my head* “Quit fuckin playing with me before you don’t make it back home tonight.”
“🤐”
Rock: “Now what was your real question?” He asked moving the gun so it was now touching my head.
“Ok Rock I’m sorry....You’re right... my real question was.......was.......”
Oh no I found myself stuttering as Rock pushed the gun further into my head. I wasn’t ready to die so I did what anyone would have done... I blurted out the truth.
“I WOULD PAY ANYTHING TO PUT MY FACE IN YOUR ASS. I WANT NOTHING MORE THAN TO KNOW WHAT IT SMELLS LIKE RIGHT THIS SECOND!”
Without saying another word with the blunt still in his hand smoking it he took another pull not breaking his gaze once. He takes another pull and it was so quiet I could hear the sound of is breath going in and out.”
Rock: “Get out the car.”
Good this is my perfect chance to ru-
Rock: “And don’t even think about running nowhere unless you want to find yourself shot in the back of the knee.”
My heart was back in my throat. I wish he would just shoot me. If he didn’t I was going to die from asphyxiation. I opened my door and stood outside the car awaiting further instruction from my killer. “I couldn’t leave well enough alone could I?” I thought to myself.
He got out the car and told me to open my door. I did as he told me to while he walked around the car standing right in front of me.
Rock: “You know I’ve made niggas disappear for way less than this right? What’s stopping me from clapping (killing) you right now?”
“Don’t you at least want my money first?” I cowardly asked in attempts to add a few minutes to my life.
Rock: “I was going to get that anyway. That’s all you got?” He asked seriously wondering if that’s all I had to barter for my life.
“Rock I-“
Rock: “Hush all the noise. You not saying shit.” He says with distain while pointing the gun back to my head. “Gimme your wallet.”
I reached on the door grabbing my wallet and handing it over to him without any questions. He rummaged through it leaving behind the cards and only taking the cash. It was about $120 in 20’s then threw it at me causing it to hit the ground.
Rock: “Pick that shit up”
As I reached down to retrieve my wallet I hear the gun right next to my ear.
Rock: “Get down on your knees you butt sniffing weirdo.”
I kneeled down and made sure not to make any eye contact. The last thing I wanted to do was upset the man with a gun pointed at my face.
Rock: “Take out your phone and open up your cash app.”
No use in telling him I didn’t have cash app because who tf didn’t have cash app? I was afraid to lie anyway. I needed all the time I could get left on this earth.
Rock: “Type in $Rockdagodd.” As you’ve already guessed I did exactly what I was told. “Send $40 and you say yes sir after I tell you to do something.”
“YES SIR!”
Rock turned his back to me and stood there for a few moments. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying the view. If I’m going to be shot at least I had this opportunity. I was going to die a happy man 😭.
Rock: “You also gone have to buy my silence pussy. Send another $40.”
Like clockwork I sent another $40.
Rock: “I should drain your bank account right now. Instead of playing this little game.”
Little did he know this game had my dick at full attention. I don’t know if it was the gun, the way he was talking to me, the fact that I was this close to his ass or how he is taking all my money 🤤. I couldn’t get my thoughts straight enough to figure out which one it was. What was even more puzzling is why him stealing my money with a gun to my head was turning me tf on. I was inches away from that gap in his jeans that so desperately wanted my nose to be in.
Rock: “Give me your phone.”
I heard his cash app go off again. He just sent himself more money. Dam was he going to really clean me out?
Before I could gather my thoughts I was being suffocated. Everything went black, I couldn’t move my head and any attempts to scream were being muffled. As I started to come to I realized I couldn’t breath because Rocks ass was on my face.
Rock: “Catch your breath nigga. That’s gone be $20.” I hear his cash app go off again. “Get out my way soft ass nigga.” Then he mushes me in the head causing me to fall into the door. “You not done yet.” He says before handing me back my phone while making his way to my driver seat.
He then pulls his pants down a little more fully exposing those perfect cakes. I was so confused by him sitting on my face the first time I didn’t really get a chance take in the scent. I was too busy fighting for my life. I could only do one thing at a time but this time I was going to take it all in.
Rock: “Send me my $20.”
*Ding* His cash app went off again
Rock: “Now come smell this ass nigga.”
I dove in head first like an Olympic diver with perfect form. My nose hit its target and I inhaled as deeply as my lungs would allow taking in Rocks scent. Right when all my senses were connecting and I had his ass smell in the tip of my nose he pushed me back with extreme force.
Rock: “Have you had enough you nasty mf?”
“NO SIR”
Rock: “Send me my money then.”
*Ding*
He snatched my head forcing my face back into his hole.
“👃🏽👃🏽👃🏽👃🏽👃🏽👃🏽👃🏽🥴👃🏽👃🏽😋🤤”
He slung my head back out of his ass again.
Rock: “What does my hole smell like? And before you answer send me $10.”
*DING*
I couldn’t wait to answer him.
“It smells like ass sir. It actually doesn’t stink at all. It smells like dove with a little ass at the end of it.”
Rock: “And you like that don’t you you butt sniffing ass nigga?”
“YES SIR!”
Rock: “I got shit to do so we gone have to hurry this shit up.”
“Can I beat my dick so I can cum please sir?”
Rock: “Hell no... but you can pull your pants down. No touching yourself. Gay ass nigga.”
As instructed I took my pants down and fought the urge to empty my sack all over my car. I don’t even know if I needed to touch myself. I felt like I could bust at any moment.
Rock: “Send me $100.”
$100???? Was this nigga serious? Of course I sent it but I didn’t want to but how do you tell someone with a gun no? Once he heard his phone ding he pulled his underwear down and grabbed my head again only this time with the other hand he held one of his cheeks open. I didn’t even have a chance to get excited because I was too busy releasing a tornado of sniffs.
“👃🏽👃🏽👃🏽👃🏽👃🏽..👃🏽👃🏽👃🏽👃🏽....👃🏽👃🏽”
I rubbed my nose from the top of the crack to the bottom. I went from the left cheek to the right cheek. I sniffed his goochie (the space between his hole and balls), his nutsack & his dick. Shit I just paid $100 I was going to smell all of him. If I could get my nose inside his hole I would.
It was like he could feel my sniffs getting more aggressive so he did the unthinkable. He pulled my face in deeper into his hole so my lips were now face to face with his hole bumping skin. Then he pushed his hole out giving me momentary access to the inside of his hole. I looked up over his shoulders and saw him watching me and gives me a quick nod. Was that like a “go ahead” to the question I wouldn’t dare ask. I wasn’t going to waste time trying to figure it out. I just went for it.
I stuck my tongue in his hole as deep as I could go. Although I knew my tongues had reached the deepest depths it could go it didn’t stop me from trying to stick my tonight on further.
Rock: *Lets out soft moan* “Yea eat up I knew your nasty ass was hungry.” With that he turned around standing up exposing a hard dick. “Stick your tongue out you ass chewing mf.”
With that he jerked his dick a few times and shot 1,2,3,4,5,6 flows or nut all over my face narrowly avoiding my left eye. I looked down to see I had nutted as well without touching myself like Sir Rock told me to.
Rock: “Send me $20.”
Although I had come down off my sexual high I sent him one last $20. He Wrapped his hands around my throat standing me up and getting really close to my ear.
Rock: “You ever lick my ass again without permission you’ll be staring down the barrel of my gun mf.”
He then gets within inches of my lips as if we were about to kiss. I saw stars, I heard a marching band and my dick started standing up again since he didn’t allow me to pull my pants up. I don’t know why I wanted nothing more than to kiss him right now.
He mushed me in my face leaving me sitting in both of our cum looking stupid regretting the fact that I didn’t get that kiss 🙄. He walked away pulling his pants back up right under his ass cheeks. He’s probably going back to the front to stop more people dead in their tracks so he can take all their money. I wonder how many times he’s done this?
____________________________________________
So this story took a violent twist 😅. I had no idea Rock had such a violent streak.
As previously mentioned this is a tumble exclusive I hope you guys enjoyed.
I’m so annoyed when I started this story I used a different video, typed up 2 chapters and the shot never saved 🙄. This story is the outcome but honestly I’m really pleased!
If you have any story suggestions or people you would like me to write about pls feel free to contact me!
Follow me on Social Media 📲
📖WattPad: Conspirasee
🐦Twitter: Conspirasee_
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After the End
Day 7 of LonelyEyes Week 2021
prompt: Afterlife
This is not what Jonah was expecting death to be like. Read on AO3 here
Jonah clutched at the rapidly spreading bloodstain on his shirt. His vision grew dark as his Archivist clutched at his own partner. Frustration bubbled up in him, almost reaching the same level as his all-consuming fear, he had almost had it, almost managed to live forever, as magnificent as the past few (months?) undeterminable amount of time had been.
The fear flickered and faded as everything finally went black.
.
“J- … -ias?”
.
.
“I swe- … -ver this quie- … -ke up!”
.
.
.
“Jonah!”
He woke up with a start.
He wasn’t in his beloved Panopticon. Nor was he in the pits of hell as he had been told many times would be his fate upon death. Nor was he in an endless expanse of darkness that the End would promise.
He was laid out on a sofa, soft and worn, familiar but not recently so. He’d been here before.
It must have been their third marriage, a small estate somewhere up north where they had spent their honeymoon in semi-isolation, one of their more affectionate marriages.
A dead man loomed over him, his usual placid smile replaced by one of soft honesty. Not that Jonah could judge, he was pretty sure he was a dead man too.
“Hello Jonah, its been too long hasn’t it?”
“Peter?”
“Yup.”
“But you were dead. I watched you die there on that forsaken beach. What are doing here? What the hell am I doing here?!” Jonah became frantic, checking over a body that hadn’t belonged to him in so very long.
“Well… yes you are dead and yes so am I, thanks for not stopping your Archivist or anything, though after Gertrude I really should have guessed on that one. I will admit, I didn’t recognise you at first, but there's a painting of you in the study at Moorland House, only the eyes had been painted over long before I ever saw it. Not how you expected death to be like?”
“... No. This is… nicer than I was expecting.”
Peter laughed, a deep sound that Jonah had missed.
“Glad to know you enjoy my presence, I wasn’t sure how you would respond after the past few years of our relationship.”
Jonah let Peter pull him up and into his arms, perhaps their first actual embrace.
He had pushed away so many for so long. He had missed the simple affection of friendship and love without the constraints of his patron, of his plans and schemes.
Peter was warm like this, warmer than he ever had been in life and Jonah was beginning to feel overwhelmed. Usually he was the one calming Peter down, he had no idea what to do on the other side. Peter pressed a kiss to his forehead.
“In life I wished for nothing more than to be alone, but death gives you a new perspective as I am sure you have noticed. Stay here with me. Maybe we will finally have a chance to see what love is really like.”
Jonah sat, quietly enjoying his husband’s presence. This would be something wholly new and he hadn’t had anything this new in so very long. It wouldn’t hurt, surely.
Maybe, just maybe, they could make this work.
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Alt-talia Compilation: A Collection Of Shorts
For @aphrarepairweek2020
Okay... so I’m cheating again. So this is yet another post where I repost prompt fills from my fanfiction.net profile. But I really wanted to get stuff out for one of these pairs but couldn’t come up with anything.
This is yet another one for Free Prompt; none of the prompts matched.
I swear I wanted to get something for Music... maybe next time. I do want to release a set of new Hetalia Emblem supports before the event is truly over though!
Most of these are platonic except for LitBel and Phil -> Kor. Though one of these pairs, one of my BrOTPs in fact, Turkey and South Korea, literally has zero content. I really like the idea of them as friends, and while the prompt here may not be entirely historically accurate right now, it does have basis in historical and modern fact. I like to dub this duo KimchiKebab; it’s a catchy name if you ask me. Also, for once, I’m using non-canon countries! Here we have Serbia and Montenegro of Yugotalia fame and Brazil and Argentina of Latin Hetalia, though I’m not sure if I’m using those exact designs.
But Augh I would have liked to post more actual ships... (I’ve been planning on writing Rome x Ancient Greece for a long time now but that has never materialized, i would have liked writing more fluffy LitBel, maybe show Poland and Ukraine’s marriage before it went up in flames, written this Den -> Fem!Nor <- Swe fic I’ve had the idea for a while now, actually finish BBDR, some Fem!EngPort...) but alas, University happens.
I really hope I can get those supports done soon...
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1KB9uLm9NSAvTosnAl_HcAa6jdMajdaL4uCyj1ZCfuWg
#aphrarepairweek2020#lietbel#litbel#philkor#korphil#aph oc#aph korea x oc#Platonic KimchiKebab#Platonic Brazil and Argentina (APH)#Platonic SerbMont#Platonic RusSerb#Yugotalia#latin hetalia#tw war
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Hell yeah, what an ask game! >:D Okay: Pr/UK, Swe/Nor, Spa/Bel, US/Liet, Scotlad/Belarus.
Alright, lemme see - Pr/UK: England almost killed Prussia with his cooking and then vowed he would make him appreciate his cooking skills? Like? Hello? Also, you don’t invite someone to lunch when you already know for centuries you are a danger at the stoves. Then do you really want to put together probably the most military-focused nation with Mr “I-created-the-larger-empire-ever”? Swe/Nor: Norway was basically used as bargaining chip in the disputes concerning Russia, Denmark and Finland. Next Spa/Bel: Belgium was a maid for a period under Spain rules, which reinforces the stereotypical and male-fantasy idea of the woman who must be an obedient servant to her man US/Liet: Setting aside a noticeable age difference, America used Lithuania mostly as a servant and errand boy, with a clear power imbalance Scotland/Belarus: He must have a penchant for drinking and having a hair-trigger temper, while she isn’t exactly a calm person and carries a knife constantly. Their relationship would degenerate into violence
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The Haunting of Peter Parker
@agib-2002 You gave me an idea and I ran with it ;)
It was an odd night, just based on the simple fact that Tony had managed to go to bed at a reasonable hour. Sure, Pepper practically dragged his ass into the bedroom and threatened to strap him down so he could sleep but that was neither here nor there.
The hours consisting of wasting time down in the lab, busying himself with upgrades for the team and drowning himself in coffee made it relatively easy to knock right out as soon as his head hit the pillow. That was until right at 3 a.m. his phone had him shooting out of bed.
Tony groaned, fumbling around in the dark as he reached for his phone on the nightstand. He was prepared to chew the ear off of the person on the other end of the line for attempting to ruin the one good night’s sleep that he’s had in the while until he came face to face with Peter’s contact photo. Taken by Pepper several weeks ago when the boy needed help baking cookies for the Academic Decathlon team’s annual bake sale. Peter’s curls were colored white, courtesy of the flour that Tony had poured all over him. Peter had gasped, reaching over for the other bag of flour, clearly to enact his revenge when Tony had wrapped his arms around the kid from behind, pinning him down and that’s when Pepper snapped a photo of the two, grinning like idiots.
With that memory in mind, his heart sped at the reasons why his young protege would be calling at this hour of the night.
“Friday pull up Peter’s vitals.” Tony ordered before pressing the phone to his ear.
“Hey, kid. You have any idea what time it is?” Tony glanced over at the readings that Friday was displaying in front of him. Heart rate was a little fast, otherwise, his vitals looked normal.
“Mister Stark!” Peter sounded frantic on the other end of the line, however, his voice was barely above a whisper.
Tony immediately climbed out of the bed, reaching for his pajama pants somewhere on the floor. He placed the phone on the bed, directing Friday to go to the speaker.
“Kiddo, what is it? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
“Mister Stark, there’s - there’s - “ Peter’s panic emphasized through his words and heavy breathing. Tony had pulled on his pants and socks by this point and was ready to deploy the suit.
“What, kiddo? What’s there?”
“A ghost! There’s a ghost in the apartment, Mister Stark!”
Tony immediately stopped just a millisecond away from deploying his suit, his arms dropping to his side.
“What?!” Tony groaned, falling back down on the bed. All the adrenaline that had built up on his body as he prepared to go rescue his kid was now quickly draining from his body and what left was a mild annoyance.
“Mister Stark, I swe-“
Tony cut him off. “Kid, have you been watching scary movies again? You know you’re not allowed to be because of how you get it.” Tony remembered the clear warning that Aunt May had given him the first night that Peter was going to be over for movie night. Absolutely no horror movies of any kind.
“No, Mister Stark, I swear I haven’t watched any scary movies. This is real, I swear. This place’s haunted!”
Tony sighed. Either way, he couldn’t fall asleep so he might as well humor the kid.
“Alright, bud. If you say so. What’s your evidence?”
“Okay, first off, there’s the sound of scratches coming from the walls. The walls, Mister Stark! Like, how does that even happen? Then the banging started and I swear just a few minutes ago I heard someone say my name.”
“Maybe that was May, buddy.”
“No, she’s at work. I texted her to make sure. She’s been working all-nighters this entire week.”
“Okay, kiddo. Okay. The scratches are a little weird, but you might have just been hearing the branches outside. And the bangs could be coming from the pipes, buddy. It’s probably just your imagination that someone said your name. You tend to imagine those stuff when you get freaked out, kiddo.”
There’s was silence on the other end of the line and Tony was about to speak again when the kid’s timid voice returned.
“I’m so stupid. I can’t believe I called you in the middle of the night thinking there was a ghost in the apartment.”
Tony sighed. “No, buddy. You can always call me for anything, I swear to you.”
“Please don’t tell me you were sleeping, Mister Stark? Oh man, you probably were. God, I’m the worst. I’m just gonna hang up now. I’m so sorry.”
Tony sat up a little bit, hastily responding, “No, kiddo. Wa-“
Tony was cut off by the sound of a loud slam coming from the other side of the line and for the second time that night he shot out of bed.
“Peter!? What happened?”
“Mister Stark…the door just shut…” Peter’s voice had returned to the low whisper and Tony could hear the fear evident in his voice. One glance at Friday’s display of Peter’s vitals, and the kid’s heart rate was beating rapidly and respirations had increased as well. He was terrified. And so was Tony. Ghost or not, there very well could be something in that apartment and he wasn’t going to wait to find out what it was.
“I know, kiddo. I know. I heard. You stay hidden in your room, okay? I’m heading over there now. Stay on the phone with me, okay?”
“Okay.” Peter’s frightened voice had Tony wishing he was already there to wrap his arms around the kid.
Five minutes later, Tony all but crashed his suit into Peter’s bedroom, quickly locating the kid that was curled underneath the blankets on his bed. He saw a chair secured underneath the doorknob, a weak defense against intruders, paranormal or not.
“Peter, buddy. It’s okay. I’m here now.” Tony dropped out of his suit, running to the bed and quickly enveloped the kid in his arms, blankets and all. Skinny arms quickly reached out of the blanket to wrap around his neck and Tony sighed, squeezing the kid gently.
After a few minutes of holding and rocking the kid, Tony spoke. “I’m gonna go see what’s going on, bud.”
“No! We have no idea what it is! Your repulser can’t fight a ghost, it’ll go right through it!” Peter argued and Tony couldn’t help but chuckle.
“You still thinking it’s a ghost, kiddo?”
“Well…yeah! Obviously, if it was an intruder, they would have found me a long time ago.” Tony’s throat closed up at that idea, of anyone or anything getting a hold of his kid and he quickly shook his thoughts away. But did store away the idea of increasing the security in this place, immediately following May’s approval.
“Well, I’m gonna go check it out anyways, otherwise I came here for no reason. If it happens to be a ghost, then I think I’ve got something stored away in my tool belt that I can use.” He offered the kid a cheeky grin and wink and although Peter looking unconvinced, he still slid out of Tony’s arms.
Peter watched as Tony moved the chair out of the way before opening the door a few inches and slid out, closing it behind him. Peter took a deep breath, sitting up in his bed and grabbing a pillow to squeeze as he kept his eyes trained on the door and ears open for any sounds.
Not even two minutes later there was the sound of Tony yelling and Peter nearly jumped out of his skin.
“Help! Peter, help!” Tony shouted and Peter scrambled out of bed.
“Oh my God. Oh my God.” Peter whispered as he frantically grabbed his web shooters before running out of the room, heading straight towards where he could hear Tony still shouting for help.
He ran, stumbling once or twice against his own feet before skidding to a halt once he got to the living room, raising his web shooter and aiming it towards…
A cat. A small tabby cat that was licking his mentor’s face as he was sprawled on the floor.
Tony turned around, catching the dumb stricken look on his kid’s face and grinned. “Hey, bud. Say ‘hi’ to your ferocious invader.” Tony gently stroked the cat right in the sweet spot underneath its neck and the animal purred, curling up on his chest.
“I - what?!” Peter’s web shooters dropped to the ground and he stumbled back, hitting the wall, not quite believe the sight before him.
“She got in through the living room window. You know the same window that has the fire escape stairs. It was wide open and I’m positive that May tells you to make sure all the windows are closed before you head to bed.” Tony gave the kid a pointed look and the teen sheepishly scratched at his head.
“So, this little one saw the perfect opportunity. She had a grand ole’ time ransacking this place and scaring - now, how do I put this kindly - ah, ha! - the shit out of you.” Tony said through muffled laughter until he was straight up laughing, the cat still curled up on his arms.
The tip of Peter’s ears turned red and he fumbled over his words, trying to think of anything that would preserve his dignity.
Before he could get a word in, Tony piped up once more, wiping away fake tears on his cheeks. “I’ve got the perfect name for her too, kid.”
Peter gritted his teeth, crossing his arms in front of him. He knew where this was going. “Do not.”
Tony grinned, sitting up and holding the cat up to his chest where it curled up with its’ head on Tony’s shoulder, letting out a soft meow, one of it’s paws coming up to gently pat at Tony’s face. “Say ‘hello’ to Ghost, spider-baby!”
“I hate you both.”
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No Distance Far Enough
Have a suitless Vader and Imperial Prince Luke one shot! I’ve been working on this off and on for months, and it’s finally done!
Luke glowered at the assembled members of the Rebellion’s High Command on the other side of the blaster-proof transparisteel viewing window. It wasn’t the entirety of High Command; they weren’t stupid enough to gather all in one place, even considering that they had finally managed to capture the Emperor’s son. Or maybe especially because they had.
His expression was less intimidating than he’d like, if his pale reflection in the window was any indication. The large bruise on his left cheek certainly didn’t help, nor did the rather fancier than he’d like dress clothes he was wearing. He was mildly impressed with their gall, kidnapping him from his own birthday gala in front of all of Imperial Center’s gathered elite, but they were oh so very foolish to have done so.
Luke worried his wrists in the Force-suppressing binders at his back and met the former Senator Mothma’s eyes levelly.
He leaned forward in his chair slightly, as far as his bonds would allow. “How long do you think you will be able to hold me?” he asked.
“As long as we need to,” she replied, her voice slightly muffled by the transparisteel between them. “Despite his best efforts, your father still hasn’t managed to find our base.”
Luke grinned. “He has now. By bringing me here, you’ve led him straight to you.”
“You’re bluffing,” said one of the men standing near Mothma. Rieekan, if Luke remembered his briefings correctly. But both he and Mothma looked shaken.
Luke shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out. If you have any questions for me, you’d better ask them quickly. I’d say you’re already running out of time. And maybe evacuate your people. I can guarantee that my father will not be happy when he gets here.” He gave them another hour, max, before Vader arrived with a contingent of the 501st to storm the base.
“You’re not here for an interrogation, Skywalker. We know you would never betray your father, willingly or not, and we would never stoop to the levels your side has to acquire information.”
Luke tilted his head. “I would say that’s a smart decision, but you still kidnapped me. I think that proves you incapable of making intelligent decisions.”
None of them responded to the barb, and Luke relaxed back into the chair, trying for an air of ease and calm. He was calm, assured that the Rebellion wouldn’t harm him and that his father wasn’t far away, but the ease was harder. The chair he was chained to was all hard edges and cold metal, and he was still mildly sore from the stun blast they’d knocked him out with earlier. The worst, though, was his current isolation from the Force.
He’d been kidnapped more than his fair share of times, an occupational hazard of being the Crown Prince of all the known Galaxy, and several of the more prepared kidnappers had thought to use some form of Force suppression on him. But previous experience never made it any easier. A fundamental part of him was missing, and he always felt a little lost, floundering in his own mind without it.
“So if I’m not here for an interrogation, why am I here?” Luke asked, keeping his voice as casual as he could. They wouldn’t get anything out of him, but perhaps he could learn something of their motives. It wouldn’t change the outcome of this situation, his father would never negotiate with kidnappers, but having some idea of what they wanted could prove useful.
“Ransom,” Mothma said plainly. “The Empire is holding several political prisoners we want released.”
Luke scoffed. “Or what? You would never kill me. Besides, you have to know that my father has never entertained the demands of my kidnappers. Everyone who has tried to hold me hostage has died.” Often publicly, usually painfully. His father had tried his best to dissuade future attempts by displaying the severity of the punishment, yet somehow, every subsequent kidnapper seemed to think they would succeed where all their predecessors had failed. It had been a while since someone had tried, most likely due to Luke’s increasing ability to defend himself and the fact that he had personally killed the last two groups during their attempts.
“We will not kill you, Skywalker, no. Not in cold blood, but be warned that if you attempt an escape, we will not hesitate to stop you with deadly force, if necessary.”
Luke bit back his first instinctual response of “I’d like to see you try.” His father had chided him concerning his reckless mouth on more than one occasion. But they were avoiding the question.
“You have no leverage. You won’t kill me. You know this, I know this, my father knows this. And even if I’m bluffing, it will still not be long before my father finds me. You cannot hold me hostage and barter my return. I never thought the Rebellion was smart, but I didn’t think you were this stupid.”
Mothma opened her mouth to respond but never got the chance. She was interrupted by the shrill blaring of the base’s alarms. Luke smirked. He had overestimated the time it would take his father to reach him. Of course, he had no way of knowing how long he’d been unconscious.
“You’re out of time,” he told a very pale Mothma. Rieekan was already barking orders into a comlink. Luke caught fragments of an evacuation order and commands for a standard computer systems wipe.
Luke sat back on the chair and watched the Rebellion’s High Command scramble. He had to admit that despite the chaos of the evacuation, at least the contained version he was witnessing from his holding cell, they moved with surprising efficiency. The product of experience from dozens of prior sudden evacuations, most likely. Most of the personnel aside from Mothma and a few Luke didn’t recognize had scattered within moments, dispatched to whatever jobs they were in charge of for these situations.
Sooner even than Luke had expected, the door to the waiting area outside his cell burst open. Vader stalked in, hood pulled low over his face and lightsaber lit but held down at his side, and the Rebels turned to flee. Vader flung his other arm out, hand outstretched, and they all froze. Luke was still quietly in awe of his father’s ability to hold so many people in place at once. He could do it, but it took concentration. Vader made it look effortless.
Stormtroopers filed into the room behind Vader as he turned his lightsaber off.
“Stun them all except Mothma.”
The static hum of stun shots sent a slight shiver through Luke, a phantom crackle of remembered electricity. He shook it off as his father turned his head to look at him through the transparisteel. His hard eyes softened slightly as he met Luke’s gaze.
Leaving the new prisoners to his troops, Vader released the lock on the cell door with a negligent wave of his hand. Luke smiled at him as he approached.
“You took your time, Father,” he teased.
“Next time you decide to allow yourself to be kidnapped, do me the courtesy of warning me,” he growled, but there was no anger in it.
“It was a last second decision. I thought it might be a good opportunity to help you find a Rebel base, once I realized who they were.” Luke shrugged. “I knew you’d find me.”
Vader just looked at him for a long moment, then shook his head and sighed. He walked around Luke and crouched behind him to release the binders. He fiddled with them for a few seconds before his hands stilled.
“I am not invincible, Luke. No matter what you may think.” There was heavy sadness in his father’s voice, and Luke craned his neck, trying to catch a glimpse of his father’s face, but his head was down. “You know that I cannot bear to lose you.”
Vader’s fingers brushed against Luke’s, and Luke closed his hand around them.
“You won’t,” Luke said.
“You cannot promise me that.” Vader pulled his hand out of Luke’s grip and resumed working on the binders. Luke frowned but knew his father was technically correct.
It didn’t take Vader long to release the binders. The moment they snapped open, Luke leaned forward in the chair. He groaned as the Force flooded back in with an almost painful intensity, and his father caught him by the shoulders, steadying him.
“Thank you, Father,” Luke said, once the Galaxy settled to rightness around him and he could think beyond the dizzying press of the Force against his mind.
Vader held his hand out to Luke and helped him stand. Luke stumbled into him, his legs still shaky from not being able to move after waking from the stun shot. Vader caught him, wrapping an arm around his waist and holding him close for a brief moment.
“Did they hurt you?” Vader asked after he released Luke. He swiped his thumb gently across the bruise on his cheek, not hard enough to hurt. Luke could feel his father’s presence coiling around him, searching for more serious injuries. It was comforting, and he leaned against their bond. Losing the normally constant contact with his father was perhaps the worst part of being cut off from the Force.
Luke shook his head. “They didn’t dare to. They planned on holding me to ransom.”
Vader growled, and Luke made a calming gesture. “I’m fine, Father. And this got you a Rebel base and Senator Mothma. Not bad, right?” Luke grinned.
Vader glared at him. “None of this would be worth even a drop of your blood,” he snarled.
“I haven’t lost any.” Luke held his hands up. “There aren’t even restraint marks.”
“Your self-sacrificing antics will be your undoing someday.”
Luke huffed, not wanting to rehash the old argument. “Don’t you have new prisoners to interrogate instead of me?”
His father sighed, the look in his eyes telling Luke that the conversation was far from over. “I thought I would wait until they are secure on Coruscant. For now I will see if they missed anything in their system wipe. Watch Mothma and see if you can make her slip anything while she’s still surprised.” Vader turned to leave the holding cell, then paused and faced Luke again. He brushed a gentle hand against Luke’s face, sweeping his bangs away from his eyes. Luke was startled. It was rare for his father to show that much affection with an audience.
Especially an enemy audience, Luke thought as he caught Mothma staring at them through the transparisteel. This must have truly scared his father, and Luke felt a stirring of guilt for his rash decision, even though it had ended well for them.
“I’m sorry, Father,” he said. “I should have stopped them at the gala rather than let them take me.”
Vader smiled softly at him, and Luke knew he was forgiven. “It was reckless. I was angry. But it is something I would have done at your age, so I cannot judge you too harshly, though I do not condone it.” He rested his hand against Luke’s cheek for a moment longer before turning away again.
Luke trailed after him, glad to leave the confines of the holding cell, even if the small observation room beyond wasn’t much more spacious. Most of the stormtroopers had already left with their stunned prisoners, and the few that remained stood at attention at the perimeter of the room. He watched his father stalk over to one of the computer terminals before turning his attention on Mothma, stun cuffs on her wrists and guarded by two stormtroopers. Luke waved them away as he approached her.
“I told you you would not be able to hold me for long.”
The Rebel leader eyed him carefully. She was doing a good job of hiding the fear on her face and in her eyes but not in the Force. She knew this was a significant blow against the Rebellion, perhaps one of the final hits they could take before crumbling. Luke could not bring himself to feel sorry for her. The Rebellion had done nothing but continue to destabilize the Galaxy and tie up Imperial resources, preventing them from being used to actually implement the changes his father was trying to bring about. They still had a long way to go to undo all the damage done by Palpatine’s Empire, short-lived though it had been.
“You were obviously not bluffing,” Mothma said drily.
“No.” Luke held up the binders, swinging them gently in Mothma’s face. “These do a wonderful job of blocking my access to the Force, which is very disorienting, I might add. But they certainly don’t prevent anyone else from sensing my signature and following it.” He contemplated her wide eyes for a moment, then added, “I also have a tracker in my belt that you failed to find.”
“We scanned you!” she protested.
“And found one, the one you were meant to find,” Luke agreed.
“Vader has you chipped like a pet tooka,” Mothma said, something like pity in her face.
Luke’s eyes hardened. “Never suggest that again.” He glanced over at his father, busy stripping the nearby computer console of all its data, glad that he hadn’t been close enough to hear that. “No matter how desperate he is to protect me, he would never go so far as to use an implant.” He suppressed a shiver, remembering the feel of his father’s scar under his fingers, where Vader had dug the transmitter out of himself as a newly-freed child. The Jedi had refused to remove it, claiming the surgery would be more invasive than it was worth. The transmitter was inert, deactivated, no longer a threat, so the fact that it was still buried in his father’s side should not have mattered. Perhaps they had paid for that, dying at the hands of their own men, controlled by chips in their heads meant to make them obedient. A morbid piece of irony, and Luke did not feel sorry for the Jedi either.
His father had had the chips removed from any surviving clones after he had killed Palpatine. Luke had had the opportunity to study the insidious coding imbedding into them, and the thought of having a chip in him, even if it was nothing more than a locator and not a mind-controlling device or a bomb, made his skin crawl.
“My father is not my master. I am not a slave.”
“Yet you do what he tells you blindly,” Mothma challenged.
Luke growled. “He tells me everything. I know why he does everything he does. We are trying to make a better Galaxy. If you would stop fighting us and let us fix things, you would see that.” Luke sighed. “You and your Republic broke the Galaxy. You were so mired in bureaucracy and corruption that you couldn’t even see the Sith in your midst. You couldn’t see the clone army for what it was, couldn’t realize you were orchestrating your own downfall.”
Luke took a step back, opening his arms to gesture at the observation room. “As you did here. So caught up in your own hubris that you didn’t stop to think whether capturing me as easily as you did was a trap. You refused to listen to me when I told you I was being tracked.
“You have never given my father a chance to prove that he’s different from Palpatine. You just look at his title and think he’s the same. The Empire is not inherently bad. What we’re trying to create? It’s better than the corruption and useless dithering of your Republic. For all you held up the value of freedom, you did nothing to help the slaves in the Outer Rim. In fact, you bargained with the Hutts. You condoned the slavery of the clones and supported the creation of more, letting them fight and die in a war to prevent the more disenfranchised worlds from leaving your rule, commanded in part by Jedi children. Children stolen from their families and indoctrinated without the option to leave, told that wanting family was a weakness that needed to be purged.”
Mothma’s eyes widened as Luke spoke, and for a moment he thought he had her convinced. Then she shook her head.
“You weren’t there. You’ve only heard your father’s twisted side of the story -”
“I don’t need to hear more,” Luke snarled. He advanced on her, and she took a startled step back. “The Republic failed the Galaxy. It failed my father when it left him in slavery for the first nine years of his life, when it allowed the Jedi to take him from his mother, when it allowed a Sith to rise to power at the center of it and never noticed how he was manipulating -”
Luke jumped at the touch of his father’s mind against his, beckoning Luke back to him. He turned and nodded at Vader, standing across the room watching him, before looking back at Mothma.
“Think about it. And then maybe you’ll reconsider those peace talks we’ve tried to initiate.”
Luke turned his back to her before he could see her reaction to his last parting jab and crossed the room to his father.
#my fanfiction#my writing#luke skywalker#this precious child#darth vader#the ashes call my name#you're my dark star
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Do you call Nor, Swe, Ice or Finny when you find a spider?? For exempel in the shower.
“HAH! Why would I be scared of spiders, I have no idea where you’ve gotten that rumour from dude! Jost look at this-
“-I have a fricking spider on my SHIRT!
“Me scared of spiders?
“They fear ME!”
((Thanks for the ask, anon, he’s lying about the spiders: he fear them. A lot.))
#yeah man he does#no hesitation#hetalia#aph denmark#askthedanishdork#Anonymous Ask#Axis Powers Hetalia#hetalia axis powers#hetalia cosplay#hetalia denmark#cosplay#APH cosplay#aph denmark cosplay#APH
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( lisa teige, 22, female ) by chance have you met NOVA WIKSTRÖM yet? i hear SHE has lived in PIONEER SQUARE for THREE WEEKS and works as a SPORTS & FREELANCE PHOTOGRAPHER. i’m surprised you haven’t met them yet but for when you do, i hear they can be quite SCATTERBRAINED but also OBSERVANT. for whatever reason they remind me of CEASELESS MOVEMENT OF HAIR & FEET & HANDS, SILVER RINGS ON DELICATE FINGERS, DOING ANYTHING TO GET THE PERFECT SHOT. ( lias, 20, they/them, est )
THE STORY
--- nova and her older brother aksel ( 24 ) are both swedish ( technically a mix but a too complicated mix of norwegian and swedish to really pick out the percentages -- not that it really matters ). she was born in trondheim, NOR and her brother in örnsköldsvik, SWE, but they were both raised in the north america : minnesota in their earliest years, then london ON, and washington dc as their father jumped from coaching gig to coaching gig for various different teams. they spent and still spend their summers/long breaks in a lakehouse in sweden just outside of örnsköldsvik ( that was always nova’s favorite time of year ).
--- the money in their family comes from the men playing hockey. their father rasmus wikström had a lengthy 15 year career in the nhl as a third/fourth line winger ; not one of the superstars, no, but respectable as a player, wore an A more often than not, and made a few million every season in the process, as you do. but the true superstar in the family is aksel, drafted 9th overall in the 2013 draft by the canucks, who then had an unpredicated breakout season in the first half of the season in the ahl, got called up to the nhl and never went back. teams are still kicking themselves for passing him up. he’s three years into a six year, seven million dollar contract — and he’s proving that he should have asked for even more.
— nova was nothing like her brother. her brother was one-track, laser focused on one dream his entire life… meanwhile nova had no clue what she’s doing. she’s good at plenty of things ( drawing, writing, lacrosse, math, yes– even hockey ) but she never pursued any of them hard enough to become EXCELLENT at any of them. jack of all trades, master of none, right?? she’s never been able to focus on one thing in her entire life, probably because she gets bored easily.
— this in particular led to her outcast in her own family. their mom especially started pushing nova to find “her passion” freshman year of high school, because she believed that everyone should have a life plan. but nova had no interest in trying to figure it out and it only led to more arguments and tension in the household, which turned to long silences with curt comments undermining nova’s character. her father was mostly absent, too busy coaching or something else, too busy to really care about his non-hockey playing child. aksel was the only one in the family she really got along with because he never pushed her, put up with her sometimes meaningless rambles, and seemed to be the only one who understood her and with her brother now gone to the other side of the country, nova felt like she had no one to talk or turn to.
--- nova graduated high school quietly and still had no idea what she wanted to do with her life ( save for get out of her parents’ house ) ; no college plan, no nothing. luckily, aksel provided an easy out for her : allowing her to stay with him at his apartment in vancouver. it was in that first year after graduating that she bought her first camera.
--- she had taken a couple photography classes in high school and had enjoyed it well enough, but had never felt the need to pursue it. however now, with her camera in hand and aksel cheekily telling her to get some good shots of him on the ice, nova accidentally fell in deep love with the art. she excelled at it --- sports photography, hockey in particular since she knew the sport so well. so much of it is predicting and HOPING for the perfect shot.
--- nova had no want for connections, the path for her to get a media passes and access for behind the scenes business was easily afforded to her given her relation to her brother. and the season after that, she found herself part of the canucks photography team and only getting better. in the off-seasons, she honed her talent on other things --- freelance work and other things, though nothing thrilled her as much as sports photography and the unpredictability of it all. it kept her on her toes like nothing else and for that she enjoyed it.
--- she was quite content with her position ; she and aksel continued to share an apartment --- her practically rent free, since aksel needed rather little help to pay for it ( though of course, it left her vulnerable to dumb favors he asked of her, that she did begrudgingly with a roll of her eyes ). summers were spent back home in sweden by the lake -- the whole family together somewhat peacefully, their differences seemingly less severe with so much time spent apart...
--- until this summer. she hadn’t been planning on taking a position with the seahawks ; but the opportunity arose and when she made the final cut, she accepted. it was better maybe than her typical freelance summer work, and she was starting to desire a bit of CHANGE. she put a security deposit down on an apartment not far from the stadium and drove down in the car aksel at bought her for her 21st birthday. she doesn’t know where this will take her ( and it’ll be a little odd living alone again ) but she’s ready to see where it does.
MISC
— nova and her brother are fluent in swedish and conversational in norwegian. she has a slight accent when she returns in the fall from sweden ( mostly from speaking swedish all summer ), but it fades out pretty quickly.
— she drives an orange subaru crosstrek like the sporty legend she is ( jk not a legend, but she does drive a crosstrek ). the car was a birthday present from aksel last summer. she’ll drive up to vancouver occasionally still to check on aksel’s apartment and bc she misses the city a little.
--- nova runs a blog where she’s been documenting her time living with aksel ( with his permission ). it’s typically more candid photos with funny memoir-type short pieces she writes when inspired. she’s not sure what will come of the blog now.
--- her freelance ‘company’ is called WIKshots.
--- she almost always carries around a small unlined notebook with her that she writes or draws in. she’s forgetful even at the best of times and find if she thinks of something genius, she better jot it down quickly.
--- she’s almost always moving : tapping feet, jittery fingers, shifty eyes --- the only time she’s truly still is when she’s taking photos, but even that’s it’s only for the briefest moment. nova will also do anything to get the perfect shot, no matter how crazy she might look ( climbing onto things, laying on the ground in a busy street, truly anything ).
--- she almost always wearing four ( technically five ) rings, all silver : left middle: 2 delicate blue topaz w/ a thin band left thumb: braided spinner ring right index: thin chevron right ring: TBA but her brother gave it to her on her 18th bday
WANTED CONNECTIONS
--- i’m not sure how it turns out, but their first impression of nova is her doing something ridiculous to get That Shot.
--- gimme all the people in pioneer square that she keeps running into
--- someone who kinda grounds her : she’s so flighty and hard to keep track of sometimes -- with her brother out of the picture in seattle, it’s only going to be worse. give me someone who understands that but also works to keep her grounded when times. someone to be that rock...
--- long shot, but i’d love for her to interact with ppl who know who her brother is ( like... the aksel wikström, one of the young stars of the vancouver canucks ).
--- i love slow burn romo plots but i also have to gauge chem between our muses first
--- anything at all !!
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