#and obviously simon is ecstatic and supportive

[tacticoal]

「V.I.P. for me ?!」: ̗̀➛ part 2 to biker!racer!simon

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ sfw, gn reader, unedited, suggestive content if you squint, mdni !!

wanted to throw in a big big thank you for all the recent support loves, you have no idea how welcomed you've all made me feel. please enjoy.

you. are. beaming.

ecstatic, delighted, overjoyed, hysterical, your mind lists all the words that could only ever possibly describe how you're feeling as you grasp your phone with nearly enough force to crack the screen.

simon riley, the #1 motorcycle racer in britain, upholding a 5-year champion streak, the man you've known and adored for years, is doing a meet-and-greet in your town.

and you're staring down at the VIP ticket on your phone.

your friends messaged you in the group chat, explaining that they all chipped in for your special invitation, buying the standard, cheaper tickets for themselves to come with you. the VIP admission gives you access to a shorter line that simon gets to first, as well as a photo with him and his bike. oh, that work of beauty, you think, already smelling the gasoline it burns off.

you spammed them with several thank you's and holy shit's, before calling a nearby restaurant to reserve a table (the poor lady on the other end could barely make out your warbled and giddy speech). just imagining next week makes you squeal and giggle into your pillow all night.

next week. the event is next week. exactly 6 days, 10 hours, 54 minutes and 4 seconds from now. 6 days to go out, get a fresh set of clothes, hair trimmed, and figure out any other essentials. surely that's more than enough time, right?

well, with no more than an hour left until you have to be out the door, you're pacing around your bed, 5 different outfits splayed over it. your friends -- who knew you'd be in this situation and arrived about an hour earlier already dressed up -- sit around your room, either watching you or on their phones listening as you ramble about how this outfit would catch his eye, but this one looks more comfy--

they knew not to interrupt you, providing the most company they can while you grumble, beginning to get impatient with yourself. eventually, you settle on something loose and airy, but revealing enough to gather the right kind of attention.

"what if he thinks i'm ugly.." you mutter, brushing down a stray hair in front of the mirror with a shaky hand.

"then y'know he's knocked his head into the concrete one too many times," your closest friend giggles.

huffing out a laugh, you nod and go to arrange a tote bag, throwing everything you want simon to sign. an official t-shirt promoting his name, two framed photographs of him, and a notepad. obviously the bag is getting signed too -- you'd throw in your arm and forehead in there if they weren't attached to your body. sigh, modern day problems.

finally, finally the time comes where you're waiting in line. holy shit, this is really happening. you can see a glimpse of his tracksuit from here, your body trembling with nerves. you've separated from your friends a bit ago, jaw dropped as you passed by the crowds of people lined up for this event. music blasts through your earbuds, in an attempt to tune out the bass blasting throughout the streets and boisterous screams 'n chatter. keeping your friends updated on where you are, you stay hunched over your phone as you slowly inch up the line.

"'nd what's your name?-"

simon's gaze tilts up from the checkerboard table to you, his breath immediately caught in his throat. you were still looking down, thumbs tapping on the screen in your hands. your glance flickered up for a split second, before your head completely snapped up to him, eyes widening as they get caught in the riptide of his deep, darker ones. with your mouth agape, you both stare at each other in silence. a beat or two passes before you rip your earbuds away, shoving them into your bag, alongside your phone.

"oh my god, i'm so sorry, i wasn't paying attention to the line, i was texting my friends and got distracted with them-"

it's you, he thinks. the one from the pub those few weeks back. he clears his throat and nods, watching you hastily pull out the things for him to sign, his heart clenching the same way it did when he first laid eyes on you. you giddily point at where you want his signature, and he's quick to oblige, the permanent marker squeaking against glass.

"i'm a really big fan," you admit bashfully, unable to hide the excited grin that stretches across your face, "since freshman year of college, 'm pretty sure."

now, simon's heard that from basically every fan he's encountered, but he's never truly believed them until now. he looks up to you, sliding the framed pictures to the side to make room for your notepad. your eyes glitter with a childlike glee as you stare back at him, and he wonders what your pretty head's thinking.

"that so, love?" he muses, tilting his head.

"yeah," you beam at the nickname, "i don't know how you do it -- everything you do is so cool."

he breathes out a laugh, ignoring how he's holding up the line behind you.

"i'd be glad to show y'round it sometime."

"really?"

you watch him with gleaming eyes, jaw dropped, as he writes a string of numbers below his name.

"text me anytime, love," he teases, handing it back to you before flicking his hand, "now shoo off, before security gets on ya."

"what about the photo?" you pout at him in disappointment, and he can't help but grin wolfishly in return.

"i promise you much more than a photo if you keep in touch."

@ tacticoal do not repost !!

[frudoo]

Full Hands Pt. 5 (1/2)

I split this chapter into two parts because it would have been a little too long for my liking!

Warnings: Suggestive, explicit imagery towards the end, but no true smut in this part. Alcohol consumption. I don’t know anything about his background so I just made it up for funsies 🤷‍♀️John is a fool for you.

Full Hands Masterlist

You can tell by her wide eyes and clenched fists that she’s on a mission, little legs striding over to you as quick as they can.

She hastily tugs on the skirt of your textured white gown, head tilted all the way back to look up at you—you’re just so much taller in your heels. You kneel down to her level, cupping her round, rosy cheeks in your hands. She’s obviously up past her bedtime but she absolutely must speak to you before her parents drag her off.

“Nana,” she whispers, fearful eyes darting around the crowded room full of chattering guests and dancing friends.

“What is it, darling?” You ask softly, moving one hand to play with the ringlets in her hair.

“Are y-you…” she trails off, leaning closer to whisper into your ear, “are you a pwincess?”

You have to bite your lip to stifle a giggle. So that’s what’s of the utmost importance to her. You lean back on your heels and hold one of her tiny hands in yours, covering your mouth with an index finger and making a shushing sound.

“Don’t tell anyone!” You wink, and finally allow yourself a laugh when she hugs you excitedly.

“I won’t! Swear!” She nods ecstatically, a wide gap-toothed smile still on her face as she sprints away to find her mother, likely to beg for another cake pop you made sure to cater.

With a grin of your own, you stand back on your feet and smooth out the wrinkles in your dress. A chirping voice calls your name and you look towards the source, smiling when your eyes land upon John’s mother. You stride over and give her a hug, pulling back to hold her hands in yours as she beams at you.

“You look stunnin’, my dear,” her bright blue eyes twinkle in the fairy lights adorning the patio, her voice raised a bit so that you can hear her over the band playing music.

It had only been a few months since you met her, but that’s all it took to know where John got all of his charm and mannerisms from—that, and those captivating eyes. You only wish that you could’ve met his father before he passed, though you feel like you already knew him with how fondly John and his mother always talk about him.

“As do you!” You smile widely, squeezing her hands gently. “Thank you so much for helping us set up this wedding. I’m not sure John would have even agreed to one if you weren’t there to help plan it.”

“Please, no need to thank me, sweetheart. You’re family,” she hums, tapping your knuckles with her thumbs before releasing her hold on you. “I think someone’s waiting for you over there.”

You follow her gaze over to the bar, where John and his mates from work are all chatting. He’s always spoken highly of them, and although their vastly different personalities were overwhelming when you first met them, you quickly began to understand why John truly loves them. They’re his family, his brothers—they’ve been through hell and back together, and although it’s an experience you’ll never understand, you’re glad that he has such a solid support system.

His eyes keep flickering over to you over the rim of his scotch glass, and you suddenly crave his touch, his undivided attention. With a soft kiss to the top of your mother-in-law’s cheekbone, you part ways with her to meet John at the bar. His eyes twinkle when they finally land on you and stay there, one sturdy arm immediately wrapping around your waist and pulling you close. Kyle, Simon, and Johnny all give you acknowledging nods and some form of a smile.

“There she is,” John grins contentedly, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “Finished makin’ your rounds?”

“I think so,” you laugh softly, tilting your head up to plant a proper kiss against his liquor-covered lips.

“Atta girl,” he turns his body to face you fully, and after Kyle hands him his phone, the other three men take the hint to wander off to give you and your husband some privacy.

It’s the first time the two of you have had a chance to talk since the ceremony, aside from the cake-cutting and first dance, the both of you having countless people to greet and chat with. John raises your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles before bumping his forehead against yours.

“‘Bout time for us to go,” he whispers, warm gaze flickering between your lovestruck eyes.

“It’s our wedding,” you raise an eyebrow, intertwining your fingers with his and gently rocking his arms. “We can’t leave until everyone else has.”

“Ah, it’s just the reception,” John shrugs, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “We’ve taken our pictures and greeted our guests. The afterparty’s more for them, anyway.”

You hum thoughtfully, biting your bottom lip before ultimately nodding in agreement. John chuckles excitedly, cupping your cheeks in his hands and kissing you deeply. When you pull away, he, without warning, lifts you bridal-style and swiftly carries you away from the pavilion where the chattering guests remain unaware of your impending absence. It almost feels scandalous, and your heart races as he rushes off towards the parking lot. Once the two of you are far from prying eyes, he sets you back down on your feet only to gently press your back against the door of his truck.

“Finally got my beautiful bride all to myself,” John mutters, bulky arms caging you between the cool steel and his warm stature, face mere centimeters from yours. “My fuckin’ wife.”

You giggle softly as he bumps his nose against yours before trapping your lips between his own. Your fingertips squeeze his fleshy biceps beneath the sleeves of his button-down, suit jacket and tie long forgotten. His large, calloused hands caress your sides, rough cracks catching in the material of your gown. It makes a sound akin to parting velcro when he removes them, and hot breath mingles together in warm laughter.

“You should call an Uber,” you pant against his lips, exhaling shakily when he traps your bottom lip between his sharp teeth. “You taste like scotch.”

“Garrick already did ‘fore we ran off. Said it’d be here at 9:55,” John explains, eagerly covering your mouth with his again.

“John-” You laugh, trying to pull away from your borderline ravenous husband to no avail.

You’ve never seen him like this before, needy and insatiable, unable to get enough of you in his hungry palms. With his hands occupied, you take the opportunity to slip one of your own into his back pocket to grab his phone and check the time: it’s already 9:53. You grunt and tug the hair at the nape of his neck gently, finally prying your kiss-swollen lips from his relentless mouth. His stormy sapphire eyes bore deep into yours as he pants, grounded like a naughty dog with a fist in his scruff.

“I think you’re a little drunk,” you release the back of his neck to cup his rosy cheeks instead, pressing a short kiss to the tip of his nose.

“Far from it,” he murmurs, pulling you into his chest and resting his cheek atop your head. “Just happy, darlin’. Finally put a pretty ring on my pretty girl.”

John’s phone dings with the notification that the Uber is nearby, and sure enough, a vehicle with the lit-up signal parks nearby. John grabs your hand and guides you over, pulling out his phone once more to verify that it is in fact the person that’s supposed to be driving. Once satisfied, he allows you in first before climbing in beside you, insisting on keeping your hand in his at all times. It’s like he’s a completely different person than the excited puppy he was a minute ago—his guard was immediately up, trained eyes keeping watch on the driver and the path he’s taking back to the resort.

You squeeze his hand gently, wordlessly letting him know that it’s okay to relax. John takes the hint and allows his shoulders to untense, strong jaw going slack. He squeezes back, an appreciative smile pulled from the corners of his mouth. The two of you are silent for the entirety of the ride, until the driver drops you off at the hotel you’ve been staying at. John pays the fee then helps you out of the car, arm wrapped protectively around your waist as he guides you through the sliding doors and down the hall to the elevator. He presses the button for the fourth floor and you rest your head on his shoulder, exhausted from the day’s worth of wedding activities.

“Tired, love?” He questions with a whisper, resting his head on top of yours.

When you nod your confirmation, the elevator doors part and he lifts you into his arms once again, trudging down the hallway and bending to allow you to place the keycard in the lock. You pull it out and the click sounds, John nudging the door open with his foot to carry you inside. He sets you down but keeps you close, tilting your jaw up to press a short kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Let’s get you outta that dress, then I’ll make you some tea, hm?” He suggests, already turning you around and unbuttoning the top part of your gown.

With each button he undoes, John kisses every part of soft skin it exposes, making you shiver until your back is completely bare. He holds the waist of the dress steady while you step out, and his breath catches in his throat at the sight of you. The nude bra and panty set is lackluster, put on simply to keep you comfortable throughout the special day. You can feel his eyes on your back and a wave of insecurity washes over you, a sheepish grin on your face as you turn to look at him.

“I-I know you were probably expecting, like, lingerie or something pretty, and this is… not that, but I promise I’ll look better when we go-”

John steps forward and silences your rambles with a heady kiss, making you melt against him.

“You look gorgeous, darlin’. Absolutely perfect,” he hums, fingertips trailing down the top of your spine until he reaches the clasp of your bra. “May I?”

You shudder and nod quickly, holding onto his biceps for dear life as he unhooks your bra with ease. The sides of his hands brush the straps from your shoulders, and he hooks his pinkies beneath the fabric to guide it down your arms, his unoccupied fingers feather-light against your clammy skin. John carefully removes your bra all the way, letting it slip from his hands and plop onto the floor. His breathing is irregular—you can tell by the way his chest is heaving, the way his Adam’s apple bobs offbeat.

The air is suffocatingly thick with tension, the two of you staring at each other, both unsure of who should move first. Finally, you reach out to grab John’s wrist, positioning his hand over one of your breasts and gently pressing it in. That’s all the encouragement he needs before his other hand is squeezing as well, gently kneading and caressing and rubbing your supple tits curiously, cautiously. You suck in a deep breath, heavy eyelids fluttering shut as his thumbs graze over your pert nipples.

“Perfect,” John mutters under his breath, but you’re not entirely sure whose ears the word was intended for.

Your hands tremble and flail by your sides fitfully, unsure of what to do or where to rest as John leans in to press a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck. He pinches your nipples between his fingertips, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make you gasp at the dull pleasure. Your hands fly to the back of his head and pull him in closer, whining softly when he scrapes his teeth along your jawline and playfully nips at your chin.

“John, I…” you trail off, a gentle pout adorning your features while you struggle to find the words.

“Gotta tell me what you want, sweet girl. You want more?” He murmurs, cupping your cheeks in his palms when you fail to respond to him. “Hmm?”

You nod, gasping against his mouth as he leans down to kiss you long and deep, your resolve crumbling with every wet click of connected lips.

“I want you,” you breathe, bumping your nose with his softly.

“Then go get on the bed, Mrs. Price.”

Next ->

[fxshrxfmxn]

Hiya! Can you please make a headcanon about how Thaddeus, Philip, Big James, Andrew, Simon Z, and John would react to you being pregnant and then going into labor, and everything that goes with that?

Okay listen….. 👀 I did research for this. Men being present during childbirth back then wasn’t really a thing, they’d be removed from the room(not that they really had a problem with that) and absolutely not allowed to touch anything. If they did they’d be considered ritually unclean according to Jewish law.

(Joseph(the ultimate stepdad) was a real one when Mary went into labor because it was just the two of them and it was an emergency. The article I found with all of this information disagrees, but they literally stayed with the animals and laid the baby in a manger……so you believe what you want I guess.)

So normally, midwife would do the delivery, all the women folk were present if they could be to help out. We’re talking birthing chairs, as many clean cloths as possible, warm water, clean olive oil. I’ll post the link to where I got the info if someone wants it.

Also, new life is always a happy thing, so every one of these men would be happy and excited. However, I’m going to focus on the other accompanying emotions. So don’t get it twisted, they’re all happy, even if I don’t mention it.😉

I also ask you to graciously ignore inconsistencies that I have for sure made. It was such a different time back then, I don’t know which terms they had and which they didn’t.

That being said, 😤 let’s do this.

Andrew:

Anxiety city. He would literally fret over every little thing.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“Do you need me to go get water? I’ll do it.”

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

“You shouldn’t be on your feet so much.”

And that’s just the entirety of your pregnancy, you going into labor??? Dial that up x1000

Dude would be silently panicking, but asking you every single question he can think of.

Shaking hands, jittery and nervous and worried for you.

He’d get you to the midwife as quick as possible.

Most men are just content to stay out of the birthing part,,,, Andrew would have a heart attack.

He’d pace the entire time. Simon Peter would try to get his mind off of it(seeing as Eden would absolutely be involved with you, he’d be around anyways.)

As soon as the door opens, he’s by your side.

Holding baby would wreck him. He’d cry. He’d just be sobbing and kissing the crown of the head.

You both would cry. Him crying would cause you to cry and you’d both be a mess(obviously you’d also be exhausted, so that has a hand in it as well.) Hormones man, they do a number on ya.

Simon Peter would have to pull him away physically in order for them to do anything. He would never want to leave baby even weeks after.

Thaddeus:

He is so sweet all the time. That’s just the general vibe he gives off.

Foot rub? Fo sho. More water? You got it.

The last few days of your pregnancy, he would be right there with you. You’d both be able to tell when it was close. And he’d be stuck to your side.

When you do actually go into labor, he’d be ecstatic. So excited.

Very supportive, getting you safely to the midwives, getting you who or whatever is needed.

Then of course he’d be pushed from the room, while the women worked.

He would seem content on the outside, but he’d be a bit worried on the inside. Not pacing, but he’d for sure be bobbing his leg.

They tell him that he can see you and the baby and Nathaniel kicks him to knock him out of whatever trance he’s in.

So gentle when holding baby, he’d freeze. He’d be afraid of moving.

As soon as he could, he’d hand baby back. Not because he doesn’t want to hold baby, he’s just afraid of making a mistake.

Definitely doesn’t want to hurt baby.

You help him though, teaching him how to support the head and how not to be so stiff.

Over all, he’d be so cautious and loving.

Big James:

Hot take: James is a teddy bear. Super softy, but incredibly protective.

I feel like he’d talk to your belly when it’s just the two of you. Softy to the max.

I feel like he’d find out you were in labor from someone else tho and then like sprint to be there as soon as he could.

He wouldn’t pace, but you know that stance he takes when “protecting” Jesus? Arms crossed, feet wide, chin tilted. He’d stand like that right outside the door. He wouldn’t move, regardless of how long labor takes.

After everything is ready for the father to come see baby:

He’s so tall that when he holds baby for the first time, it’s almost funny how small baby is compared to him.

Idk how his singing voice is, but I feel like he’d try to sing baby to sleep. You’d help too. Whisper singing baby to sleep.

He’d tell baby stories. 100% he just would. He’d talk to them as much as possible.

Simon Z:

Calm and collected. A silent protector.

While training to be a zealot, he didn’t have plans to be married. Let alone raise a child.

He’d be so afraid that this wonderful thing, that is you and the family you two are starting, could be taken away at any time.

His prayer life would be healthy, I’ll tell you that much.

Beyond that: caring for you during your pregnancy and when it gets close to the end; it would be effortless for him.

You wouldn’t have to ask for anything. He’d always be watching you when he was able, so in tune to anything you might need.

He’d know when you were sore.

When you were thirsty.

(You know in cloudy with a chance of meat balls: Earl with his chest hair that tells him when stuff is happening?) yeah. I’m not saying it’s his chest hair, but yknow. 🤷🏻‍♀️

He’d know right when you go into labor without even being in the room.

Because of how he was trained, whenever labor starts, he’d be quick to get you to the midwife and then he’d keep watch.

I’m not talking about standing at the door. Way more than that.

He’d case the building. On the roof. He’d change sides.

He would know the face of every person in there with you AND who passes by.

After you’ve been cleaned and can stay awake long enough, they come to get Simon.

He is basically a sponge while the midwives are talking to him about how to hold baby and what to do while he’s holding baby.

He’s listening, but is always looking at baby.

You thought the way he protected Jesus and you were overkill,,,, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

it’s so much worse.

“Who’s holding baby?”

“They’ve had enough time holding baby.”

“Please sit down while you’re holding baby.”

“Do not touch baby until your hands are clean.”

“Baby is sleeping, be quiet.”

Any of the guys makes so much as a rustle, they are forcibly removed from the room by either the ear or the upper arm, whichever one is the easier grab at that moment.

Philip:

That episode in season 3 when they’re going 2 by 2 and he’s sitting with the kiddos. 🙃🙂🫠 y’all I melted.

He wants kids. Dude wants kids.

Ecstatic at the idea of you being pregnant and getting to raise little ones with you.

He’d do his own form of research, he’d talk to people he trusts who have kids and ask about it.

He’d ask for advice, but would weigh every bit of advice he gets.

Ultimately trusting Adonai for everything beyond his control.

Very calm when you go into labor, knows exactly what to do and where to bring you for the midwife. Will step out begrudgingly.

He doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, or angry. Also the law….

The first time he holds that baby, he doesn’t want to let go.

Obviously he has to at some point, but his heart changes when he holds your little one.

He loved kids before, but it’s so much more than that now.

He would do anything for that little one and you can tell that the baby already has him wrapped around that tiny finger.

John:

Is so attentive. Would def talk Salome’s ear off about how to be there for you and she would absolutely drill that into him.

Be there. Be present until you can’t be and then be present afterwards.

He gets this excited puppy expression when you tell him you think you’re in labor. You know the one. Pure unbridled glee.

Anxious excited, not so much anxious worried.

Of course he’s concerned. Especially when the midwife kicks him out.

But more excited.

Pacing, bobbing on the balls of his feet while he waits outside.

Listen, Christ is first in all of their lives, but the second he holds that baby for the first time, his world stops.

He’s so infatuated with that little bundle of cloth and softness that he literally can’t hear anyone for a good thirty seconds.

There’s ample teasing from Big James when he meets the little one and sees that John is holding the baby instead of you.

He also won’t let anyone else hold the baby for a good chunk of time.

Slight overkill, but he’s a first time father can you blame him?

One more because I just have to:

Being a part of the ministry while being pregnant and going into labor. This one is more story based and less generic.

Everyone would be at your house because of course they would be when they’re in town, you’d love being a home-base for them.

You loved listening to Jesus talk. He could ramble about agriculture in the background and you’d find comfort in it.

This particular day when the group showed up, Jesus gave you a softer greeting compared to the others who buzzed their way in and made themselves at home.

It took you off guard for a half second before you returned it.

“How are you feeling, y/n?” He would ask. “Ready to be an eema?”

“I feel heavy. And if it means I won’t be pregnant anymore, absolutely.” You would chuckle.

“Oh yes, it’s close isn’t it?” Mary M. smiled warmly at you. “Is there anything I can do for you?” You returned the smile.

“Oh I don’t think so, everything is ready, my own eema is here to help as well. Thank you though, you’re very kind.”

Everyone would sit down and you’d make sure everyone has food and drink. When you finally sit down, someone asks for something and you go to stand up, but Mary M. Tells you to stay where you are and she gets it instead.

In the midst of Jesus talking, you have a particularly uncomfortable cramp. No, that’s an understatement, it hurts, a lot.

You grunt and everyone turns their heads to you.

“Everything all right?” Jesus asks, but when you look up he’s grinning.

“Y/n, I think your water just broke.” Mary says setting down whatever she was doing.

You look down and sure enough, it looks like you’ve wet yourself.

“Well, that’s embarrassing.” You give a half laugh before another contraction makes you double over. Then it’s go time.

Everyone is moving at once to make sure you get to where you need to be.

Mary and Ramah go with you and your eema and just before they get you out the door, a warm hand plants gently on the crown of your head. What you didn’t see was your husband hurriedly speaking to his Rabbi as chaos had begun.

He had asked for a blessing.

Labor was long and by the end, you were completely exhausted.

You slept the rest of the day.

But the next day, once you got to go home with baby, everyone was waiting. It was truly a sight to see.

The whole group is so excited to have another member of the ministry.

The most interesting part about it is the fact that when Jesus holds baby, baby instantly calms.

No matter what was wrong, as soon as he’s cradling the little one, their cries cease. Baby just lays there staring up at the messiah.

(Oh to be a tiny child looking up at your lord and savior)(I cry)

@multifandomsofficial I know this ask was you, lol I hope you enjoyed it.

[duusheen]

I'm sorry to Miss Rowena (she's my favourite) but I'm ecstatic! It's so sweet that Leif is creating a bigger family than the one he grew up in. With just as much love and devotion from both parents but giving his children something that he didn't have - siblings 😊

I think Leif needed people he cared about, on a platonic but unconditional way, to invest energy into. Art and parents are great but siblings might've prevented his villainous behaviour for that short time in adolescence.

he honestly always wanted more siblings, but he grew up with a workaholic and alcoholic father, so deep down he was always glad he didn't have more siblings going through the same thing as him.

I always say that Journey wasn't a bad father, but he also didn't hide his drinking addiction from Leif, so he grew up seeing all of that. obviously Simon improved things and at some point, he became that support that Leif wanted so much. I think that's why Simon is his best friend and why Leif has never called him "dad" even though Simon practically helped raise him from an early age.

Either way, becoming a dad helped Leif get over that little grudge he had with Journey and the two are closer now. He sees things from another perspective and his girls have made him understand his own father better, especially since he can't imagine himself losing Daphne at this point, because she is honestly his other half 🥺💖

[khaleesiofalicante]

what was the reaction of the entire family to malec getting back together :) all the kids and alec's siblings and the immortal squad <3 and how did they tell them?

They told them one by one. In-person. Obviously.

Jace and Izzy were ecstatic about it. Simply because they knew this is what Alec wanted and they are number 01 Alec stans.

Maryse was super emotional. She was just happy for Magnus and Alec - and the boys. (Kadir already told her - the staff saw them on the balcony kedjkans)

Clary and Simon were happy. But they also made sure Alec and Magnus felt supported going into this again. They also checked in with Jace and Izzy to see how they were feeling about this.

The kids were super happy. It was all "malec lives" and alec going "malec never died" and then the kids just screaming incoherently. David baked a cake. There was lots of moaning.

Catarina was happy too. She figured out Magnus didn't want to move on and was only playing himself. She is just glad he has found the strength to build back what he lost. Ragnor was all "narrowed eyes and tired sighs". He is worried about the future. But Magnus seems to be happy in the present. So, he let it be. He doesn't like to meddle. Raphael was just like "i hope you're not having another wedding because i need at least 2 years to design something". Magnus texted shinyun and she responded with a thumbs up emoji :)

[boylovesleathers91]

Simon and Luke part 5: Holiday in the Alps

Please enjoy this fictional erotic leather story about a very submissive Simon!

Simon and Luke enjoyed their open motorcycle relationship a lot. But life in the city was stressful and often, they hardly found any time for mutual rides - and sex. When summertime started, Simon mentioned the idea of going on Holiday together – of course with their bikes. Luke was in favor of this great idea, and Simon believed that Luke would get a surprise for him. Luke has always had the hottest sex ideas.

Finally, they came to a decision. They wanted to explore the Eastern Alps in Central Europe that weren’t far away from their home so they could go there using their sports bikes – as you may remember, Simon was riding a KTM 690 Duke and wearing his Dainese and Alpinestars gear, Luke’s bike was a black ninja. They really enjoyed the mountains, riding up and down impressive mountain passes several times. When they stopped, everyone was friendly – maybe the guys were impressed by their sports bikes and their shiny leather gear and the girls were ecstatic because of their masculine looks?

Once, they stopped for an overnight stay in a small village. “I met some horny guys from the local motocross club”, Luke told Simon. “They’d want to taste your sweet ass with their dicks. But they said it was important that nobody in this place can find out. They’re all in heterosexual relationships, you know. Therefore, they’d pay me so much money we could use for our holiday. I want you to do that.” Simon hesitated. He was used to take Luke’s orders as he played the submissive part in their relationship. But Luke had never asked Simon before to get fucked by other men. Somehow, Simon felt aroused by the thought of getting pounded by those athletic motocross dudes. At the end of the day, Simon agreed. The next afternoon, Luke guided Simon to the club house. Three young guys were already there, all wearing their full motocross gear. The youngest of the guys seemed to be barely above the legal age. The boy’s Alpinestars gear was full of mud and sweat, apparently, he had just had a hard training session. The guys didn’t introduce themselves, except the young guy whose name seemed to be Leo. “I’ve got a girlfriend, but I’m still questioning my sexuality”, he told Luke. The others also had their motocross helmets on so they wouldn’t be recognized.

Luke commanded Simon to lay down on a small bench that was situated on a platform, so that Simon was on all fours, with his ass in a comfortable higher position. Simon felt his bike leathers’ special backside zipper being opened, leaving his asshole free to the public. Wearing his racing gloves and racing boots, he was bound to the bench so he couldn’t really move. Some of the motocross dudes began to rub their dicks through their motocross pants. Simon couldn’t see them, as he was forced to look in the opposite direction. A well-trained guy of about 30 years who obviously was the club’s leader slowly approached Simon’s ass. “Stop”, shouted Luke. “As this hole has not been lubed yet, you will need to do some prework. Leo, come here and help your bike friend.” Leo was shy but finally did what he was told to. His older buddy unpacked his hard cock and showed Leo to suck it: “Make it as wet as possible, I’ll take care of that dirty hole”. While Leo was getting his master’s cock shoved down his throat, the older athlete started to lick Simon’s completely shaved asshole. Simon moaned enjoying the treatment. Soon, the older guy decided to start the next level. He kicked Leo away and positioned his cock’s tip right at the entrance to Simon’s well-prepared anus. Leo sat down; he knew he was last because he was the youngest of them. With a single thrust, the athlete shoved it completely into Simon’s ass. Simon took the older guy’s cock easily, since it was only of average size compared to Luke’s penis. The older guy didn’t have much endurance and shot his man cream into Simon’s ass. The dude was satisfied and left the place to go showering. The second guy, who observed the scene rubbing his stiff cock through his motocross pants, was next. His cock was also of average size, but it had a huge tip. When he fucked Simon’s ass gently, Luke also got a boner and rubbed it through his tight leather suit. Simon noticed that and showed him to come closer. Luke opened his leather pants and unpacked his cock, so Simon could suck it. Stuffed from two sides and getting his prostate massaged by the huge cock end, Simon’s own penis was soaking his tight leather suit with precum. At the same time, Luke and the other guy enjoyed their climaxes a few minutes later and shot their loads into Simon’s body. The other anonymous guy also left for the showers.

Now, it was Leo’s turn and he was right at Simon’s hole. Luke was surprised when the young dude unzipped his motocross pants, as his cock was even bigger than his own– about 24 cm long - and coated with strong veins. At the tip, a drop of precum could be seen. As he had learned from his colleagues, Leo positioned his giant cock at Simon’s lust hole and shoved it in with a single thrust. Simon screamed once as he wasn’t used to cocks of this size, but it was no big problem as his hole was well lubed with two guys’ cum. Simon soon began to enjoy Leo fucking him with slow but intense thrusts. Simon tried to position himself differently despite being bound quite tightly, so with every thrust, his wet penis was pressed against his tight leather pants. Leo really was well-trained and had a lot of endurance, he fucked Simon for at least forty minutes, both continuously moaning. Beneath his protective gear, Leo’s sweat was running down his motocross trained body into his muddy Alpinestars Tech boots. Simon smelled the young athlete’s scent and it made him even hornier. Accompanied by three loud screams, Leo pumped various loads of his boy milk into Simon’s asshole. Simon came as well and shot his load into his tight black orange Dainese leathers. They stayed in that comfortable position and enjoyed the moment. Slowly, Leo pulled out his still jerking massive dick out of Simon’s gaping lust cave. He kissed Simon’s leathered butt cheeks and closed the backside zipper. Together with Luke, they uncaged Simon who wasn’t far away from losing consciousness. “Awesome”, was the only word that came out of his mouth.

“Simon, your lust hole was way better than my odd girlfriend’s pussy”, Leo explained. “And you know, the other gays are just idiots, they only wanted to fuck your ass. But they wouldn’t ever tell anyone about this because they are stupid cowards. I really enjoyed this opportunity, and there is also an emotion in my heart I’ve never had before. Is it love? I don’t know! But I will break up with my girlfriend, I don’t believe that I’m loving her. However, being queer can be hard in the village! What do you think?”. Simon, who felt four boys’ cum including his own running down his thighs into his racing boots, answered “We will definitely support you. It’s important to be true to yourself and others. You’re old enough, so you can always leave this town. Maybe you would like to come with us? You seem to be a good biker!” At the end of the day, Simon and Leo exchanged their helmets, so they could inhale the other boy’s masculine scent every time they wanted to.

To be continued?

Did you like the story? Reblog it! 😊 What adventures would you want Simon and Luke to get into?

Please note that this story is fictional. Any resemblance to living persons is unintentional. Please also note that in real life, you should always be aware of informed consent and avoiding sexually transmitted diseases when you hook up with someone. Please also respect your local Covid-19 restrictions.

[snow-pitch-grimm]

Unconditional Love

Summary: Baz is put under a sleeping curse.

'Unconditional Love is The Price'

This is based on Once Upon a Time.

SIMON

It happened so fast. One minute we were talking, discussing Baz's family and the spells I could finally learn, and then the next Baz was on the ground with a nymph standing over him.

"Unconditional Love is the price," she said before disappearing back into the trees.

I tried to call his name, to shake him awake.

Nothing worked.

xxx

After the humdrum was defeated, the magic returned slowly, including my own. Except it was normal this time. I could cast the spells I had been trying for the last eight years of my life.

Of course, it wasn't perfect. My classmates had a much better grasp on magic then I did. But it was something and I was making good progress. Even Penny's mum seemed impressed with me, usually an impossible task.

Baz and I have had planned on having a quiet term. We were going to go on dates, snog in our room and spend time making up for the last several years of stupidity.

The plan did not include my boyfriend being in a magical coma.

"You didn't try anything magical?" asks Dr. Wellblove

"No," I say, "I didn't want to mess anything up,"

Penny and her mum choose that moment to walk through the door.

Penny quickly makes her way toward me, putting a supportive arm around me.

"Physically he's fine," says Dr. Wellblove, "This is all magical. I'll put in a line to give him proper nutrition but the spell needs to break for him to wake up,"

"I called his family," says Headmistress Bunce, "Malcolm and Fiona will be here soon,"

Penny squeezes my hand and gives me a reassuring look.

It doesn't help.

Dr. Wellblove nods.

"There isn't much I can do here. The nurse will be able to take care of the few physical needs he will have. I think I should probably take my leave. I'll come back to check on him tomorrow or the day after,"

"I'll walk you out, Welby," says Headmistress Bunce

He nods and turns toward me, "Take care, Simon,"

I mumble a quick thanks without looking at him.

As soon as they leave I take a seat next to Baz and take his hand in mine. Penny mutters a few words and waves her hand, making a small table with a stack of books to appear in front of her.

She smiles at my questioning look.

"I figured we could do our research in here," she says, "Since you probably want to stay with Baz,"

Times like these make me extra glad for a friend like Penny. I don't know what I'd do without her.

"You mentioned that the nymph said something about unconditional love, right?"

"Yeah, Unconditional Love is the Price," I tell her

"Okay," she says, "We focus on sleeping spells that involve the aspect of love. And let's try to start with Non-Mage ones. I don't think nymphs like to use the same magic as us,"

I resultantly let go of Baz's and come to sit beside Penny. It's a tedious process. There's not a lot to go on. It's not as if someone sat down with a nymph and wrote down their magical process. All we have to go on are previous incidences. Each one is different with its own scenario and it's really hard to connect the dots. Or even find them.

I'm two books in when the door opens and the headmistress comes in with Fiona and Malcolm.

Fiona is instantly at me, rapidly asking questions that I can't keep up with. I'm just about to snap at her when Malcolm puts an arm on her back, effectively shutting her up.

He murmurs something and Fiona takes a deep breath. As they talk, I take a moment to look at them. They both look ruffled like they dropped everything to come here, which they most likely did. Malcolm's wearing one of his 'business' suits, probably left a meeting. Fiona obviously left a date or an early night out. She looks angry with a touch of panicked. Malcolm, on the other hand, looks calm and unbothered as if his son isn't lying in a coma.

It makes anger twist in my gut.

How can he so...so unfeeling about this?

"Simon," whispers Penny, "Stop it. Stop the face,"

"But-"

"Simon!" she hisses

"Okay," I mutter

Once they're done, Fiona goes to sit by Baz while Malcolm comes toward us.

"Tell me," he says, "From the beginning,"

I comply and start from the beginning. From out topics of conversation to the nymph's words and Dr. Wellblove's assessment. Penny's mum chimes in here and there.

In the end, Malcolm nods, "You're doing good with the research but let's make it more focused,"

With his and headmistress Bunce's help, we narrow the search down more to scenarios of nymphs 'helping' Mages or make trades. I'm not sure why those things are important but Penny's making 'this makes sense face' to so I go along with it. Some time in, Fiona joins us too. Headmistress Bunce has to leave to attend to her other duties.

We keep looking for hours.

Eventually, Penny pulls up one solution.

"True Love's Kiss," scoffs Fiona, "What is this? A fairy tale?"

"The way it goes, the Mage needed to be awoken by the person who loved him best with their most common confession. And well, kissing someone is a pretty big confession so it worked,"

Everyone turns to looks at me.

"You-you really think- I mean we've only been together for-"

"It doesn't hurt to try, Snow," says Fiona and this time her eyes are a little more gentle.

I take a deep breath.

"Okay,"

Slowly I walk toward Baz's bed. I take his hand and bend down to gently place a kiss on his lips.

It didn't work. So I tried again. This time I let my lips linger there a little longer.

Nothing. My heart sinks.

"Simon," I hear Penny call my name softly

I turned back toward the others in the room. Penny is looking tired and sorry. Fiona looks disappointed. Malcolm looks disappointed too and...a little relieved.

I can't take it anymore.

So I run out before I say something I'll regret later.

I don't know where I'm going. As long as it's far away from the heart-wrenching sight of my sleeping boyfriend.

xxx

Penny finds me later, sitting close to Ebb's old place.

"Hey," she says, coming to sit by me

"Hey," I answer

She takes my hand and squeezes it gently, silent in her support. I rest my head on her shoulder and let my tears fall. Once I've cried as much as I could, she helps me up and takes me to my room. In there I have another crying fit and I collapse on Baz's bed, sobbing my heart out. She just sits beside me and rubs my back.

Eventually, the tears stop and I let sleep overtake me.

xxx

Refreshed from my nap and feeling a lot more centred, I headed for Baz's room. Penny was still asleep. I figured I should leave her there.

When I got close to the room, I hear people taking in hushed voices.

It sounded like Malcolm and Fiona

Despite my better judgement, I quietly moved until I'm standing in right outside the door.

"It's not fair," I hear Malcolm say with a little hitch in his voice, "Why do these things always happen to him. He doesn't deserve this,"

"I know Malcolm,"

"He's a good boy. Does his best. Smart. Intelligent. Wonderful. It's not fair,"

I hear Fiona sigh, "I know Mal,"

There's a sound that suspiciously sounds like a sob and my stomach churns with guilt.

I shouldn't have thought Malcolm was indifferent to Baz. I definitely shouldn't be standing out here.

I don't want to just walk away either so I straighten my back and lightly knock on the door frame.

Fiona looks up at me while Malcolm discreetly rubs under his eyes, probably trying to wipe away any tears.

"Oh, hi," I say, "I can come back later if-"

Fiona shakes her head, "No Simon, it's okay. Malcolm and I should be getting something to eat anyway. We skipped dinner,"

I nod and she genty tugs her brother-in-law out of there. Malcolm gives me a small nod as he leaves.

His eyes are so empty, they make me involuntarily shudder.

Once they're gone, I sit down and take Baz's hand in mine.

If I didn't know better, I would think he was just sleeping. His expression is peaceful and his breathing is steady. It reminds me of the first time we had fallen asleep in the same bed. How I had fallen asleep the sound of his breathing.

"Hey, Baz," I say, "It's me. Simon. But you probably know that and if you were here you would call me an idiot for rambling,"

I take a deep breathe, "I love you. I do. But apparently it's not enough to wake you up and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry,"

I ramble on for a little longer, glad that there's no one else in the room to hear me. Once I run out of words, I just sit there, gently stroking his hand and watching his beautiful face.

A knock startles me and I turn to see Malcolm standing at the entrance.

"Do you mind if I come in?" he asks

"Um-yeah-sure, come in,"

He walks toward us and sits on Baz's other side, taking his hand.

"I can leave if-" I start

He shakes his head, "Don't worry. It's fine,"

"Can I ask you something," I say eventually

"Go ahead,"

"When I kissed Baz and he didn't wake up, I don't know- I might be imagining it, but you looked a little, I guess, relieved? Why?"

Malcolm nods, "Look, if that had woken him up, I would have been happy. Ecstatic. But I also would have been concerned,"

He takes pause and then continues.

"When we were in our seventh year, Natasha and I did a project on that spell. Those two Mage's that first used True Love's kiss, they had also used a few very dangerous spells on themselves previously. They had done a mind-melding spell, gave each other the power to summon the other whenever they wanted. There were also so many others. By the end, they were basically one person. That's not true love or love of any kind, really. That's not even healthy and as you can imagine that's not what I want for my son,"

"What do you want for him?"

"Someone that makes him happy," he says with a smile, "Someone that puts him first, someone who will stand by him through thick and thin,"

He smiles at me.

"You get the picture,"

"Yeah," I say nodding. I wonder what he thinks of me being with his son.

"You know," he says, "I trust my son's judgement. I'm sure you and he will have many years together,"

I nod, trying to keep down the wave of emotion that's bubbling up inside of me. This is not the direction I had expected this conversation to go.

xxx

In the morning, I walk back to the infirmary from my room. I had wanted to stay with Baz but the adults had put their metaphorical foot down. I had made them promise to get me if anything happened.

I had only gotten a few hours of sleep but still felt refreshed. The breakfast of scones had helped too.

Now I was ready to dive in another stack of books to find a spell to wake Baz up.

Everyone is already in the room, including Dr. Wellblove and Headmistress Bunce. Malcolm and Fiona are sitting beside Baz, neither of them looks like they got wink of sleep last night.

Penny waves me over to the table and I slide into the chair beside her.

"He's fine," says Dr. Wellblove, "Just as he was yesterday. His physical health isn't being impacted by this curse,"

"He's just asleep," says Fiona

"I guess we just have to keep looking," says the headmistress

"We already tried true love's kiss though,"

"But apparently it wasn't true enough," I mutter

Penny squeezes my hand, "Don't feel bad, Simon. The nymph said unconditional love, right? You love Baz, but it has conditions,"

I'm about to protest when she shakes her head.

"You wouldn't love him if was an axe murderer or if he hurt me or someone else you cared about,"

I take a moment to think about it and realize she's right. I love Baz for his core values and personality and while some differences wouldn't change a thing, if he started murdering people tomorrow, would I love him? Probably not.

"But then that's all love. What do we do with that? It just sounds hopeless," I say

The room goes silent at that. No one says anything or looks at each other.

Headmistress Bunce is the one to break the silence.

"Okay, those of us who are rested will continue the research and those of us who are tires will get some sleep. I'm looking at you, Malcolm,"

"I'm not-"

"Don't make me call you wife, Grimm,"

Malcolm looks her exasperated, she just raises her eyebrows at him.

He sighs, "Fine,"

To my surprise, he doesn't get up instantly but leans down to press a kiss to Baz's forehead.

The reaction is instant.

A wave of magic moves through the room.

Baz's eyes open up.

For a moment everyone freezes but then Fiona and Malcolm are pulling a confused looking Baz into their arms.

"Wha- Father, Fiona, what's going on,"

Neither one of them answer juts hug him tighter.

"Well, they do say a parent's love is unconditional," murmurs Dr. Wellblove

"Can't believe I didn't think of it," says Penny

"I'm going to go let Niall and Devin, know," says the headmistress

On the bed, Fiona moves away and gestures for me to come over.

As I get closer, Malcolm removes one arm to give me room.

"I didn't think you would wake up," I say, burying my head in his shoulder.

"I am still so confused," says Baz

Everyone chuckles.

"Later, boyo," says Fiona, "We're just glad you're back,"

Baz obviously figures the easier way is to go along with. He just nods and sinks into our hug again.

BAZ

I'm in the infirmary and my father and Simon are hugging me at the same time. Fiona's also there looking a few moments away from tears herself.

I'm confused. I have two crying people on my shoulders and I have no idea why. I don't even know how I got here.

But the hugs are nice though.

[bringbackwendellvaughn]

How would you relaunch Quasar

Okay, i’ll finally answer one of these ones.

I think Quasar is a character who doesn’t really need his own series. 

But if he does I think there’s a few things that need to be taken into consideration.

Firstly, more than anyone else, we have Quasar and he is very much a character defined by one creator - Mark Gruenwald. To do a Quasar series and not in some way have it reverential to Gruenwald would be absolutely the wrong idea. There should always be at least some element of a love letter to Gruenwald in the book, be it continuity, his characters, running with his ideas or so on. It shouldn’t be weighed down with that stuff, that shouldn’t be it’s be all, but just the book should maintain elements people recognise as being in-line with Gruenwald. I think i’d want a Quasar series that i could see Mark Gruenwald picking up and being happy with - and that obviously doesn’t mean just copying him or rehashing - just something where he could go “it’s nice to see these creators appreciated my run so much and are continuing Wendell’s adventures”.

Secondly, this is all my ideas and yes i’d kinda love to write a Quasar book (or rather co-write/co-plot one with someone talented)… but a lot of the points i think should be applied to a Quasar book in general.

The start off with, I think Quasar needs to be re-introduced… we’ve already got him de-powered and stuff… i’d be slightly tempted to do an upbeat take on Dark Knight Returns (Quantum Knight Returns?) but that seems like it will have been done, not quite work or just be uninspired. The first issue is probably the hardest, because it’d have to get Quasar back as Quasar but in a manner that can grab new readers and tell a story. I think maybe something with the Quantum Bands being at Project PEGASUS and Wendell being the only one who can use them or a bad guy stealing them and Quasar taking them back before they burn themselves out. But both these seem too reminscent of past stories. I don’t want to just have Epoch show up and say “be Quasar again” coz that is lazy

But once we get passed that, I do think there is a very good unique model for a Quasar series. Quasar was a book always concerned with continuity or using continuity to tell new stories. Gruenwald’s series obviously dipped into this with stuff like the Ultimate Nullifier, the M-Bodies or just resolving loose ends like the Questprobe series or Iron Man’s Secret War armor. In my mind, a Quasar book could be the book that tells the story or stories about the MU. Think “Untold Tales of the Marvel Universe” meets … well, Quasar. It can be a bit like a illustrated Handbook but with a relevant narrative and stories spining out of it. For example, Quasar can learn about how the Celestials came to be or how the Uranians depicted in Quasar #2 and Untold Tales of the Marvel Unvierse work in conjunction with the Uranians depicts in Agents of Atlas or even resolve old loose ends from other books. Quasar is the perfect P.O.V. character for these sorts of things as he has a personality that would process these things the same way the reader would. It of course though is a Quasar series and these sort of continuity porn stories are small ideas or themes that could give the series a more unique approach - one of exploration and slightly different Cosmic adventure. There’s still plenty of other things a Quasar series needs…

There’d be much of the same sort of expected stuff - Quasar going into Space, Quasar fighting one of his rogues gallery, Quasar having down-time moments with his supporting cast, Quasar getting involved in crossover events, huge sprawling arcs and sub-plots, some stand-alone issues.

Plenty of stuff to focus on in Quasar.

For example; baddies.

I’ve got a “rule” that i think is better than anyone gives it credit. I think any property that doesn’t have 12 unique villains will eventually fail as a book. The idea is that they have 12 villains who are unique to them (or would/could be considered “a Quasar villain” above “a Fantastic Four villain”) so that feasibly there is straight off the bat at least a year’s worth of stories to tell. I don’t mean that it should just be a cycle of those 12, ever, but that if - say - the book ran into trouble, there’s at least a year’s worth of potential safe stories to fall back on.

Quasar is rare in that, I do think he easily has 12 unique villains. I was gonna name them all but it became long. Suffice to say, Maelstrom, Ereshkigal, Deathurge, Quagmire, Presence, Marvel Boy/Crusader/Blue Marvel/Thelius, Soul-Eater, Chief Examiner and Overmind are the “big ones”. There is honestly loads more and I think Quasar, combined with the above purvey of incorporating continuity, has potential for a really robust list of cool underrated Cosmic villains and obscure villains who can be redefined.

I think there’d be no contest to the decision to go with Maelstrom as the arch-enemy (with Oblivion as the obvious big big bad). Though i think Ereshkigal and Presence are both worthy arch-enemies if Maelstrom was unfortunately unavailable (though if I wasn’t allowed Maelstrom, I’d begin doubting whether or not a Quasar book would be as open to me as it should be - if you’re told you can’t use the book’s obvious arch-nemesis, what chance do you have of ever getting to do something with, say, The Stranger?).

Supporting cast is a lot more clear to me but i do have a few things i would …. i don’t want to say “improve” upon…..

I think Lisa and Gayle Vaughn should be mainstays (Quasar’s mother and sister). I think nothing exemplifies Quasar’s character and personality more than his still being close to his family. They should definitely form a backbone to who Wendell Vaughn is i feel.

Epoch is another obvious one, although maybe keep at a distance. Quasar shouldn’t be too dependent on Epoch for help but Epoch should definitely be available to provide both narrative and exposition when necessary. Epoch also allows to explore Quasar’s “daddy issues” through the means of him being a father figure to Epoch.

Kayla, unfortunately, i would keep away. Leave her in the New Universe. It’s a shame as she certainly belongs in a Quasar book but Mark Gruenwald wrote her out and they’ve been apart so long, it feels more like rehashing for the sake of it.. we were left to think she and Metallurgist would get together. Having them never meet again adds some more angst to Quasar, so i think it kind of makes more sense narratively to not get them back together. I’m sure Gail Simone would scream that i’m using a female character to benefit a male character’s story but she’s a hypocritical idiot.

Ken Tanaka would definitely keep around.. i actually do have an idea, that’s in my fanon too, that would explain what became of Vaughn Security Systems…

Makkari, Kismet and Moondragon i’d definitely have show up every now and then. Less so than they did in the original series, but, particularly Makkari and Kismet would make as many guest appearances as they could. I do however feel having any of them as a main fixture of the book is a bad move. It’s a Quasar book not Quasar Corps or Quasar and His Amazing Friends. If there’s a story to tell with Makkari or Kismet, it’d get told, but I probably wouldn’t have them go on almost every adventure with Quasar. Moondragon is slightly different, i anticipate - much like Gruenwald - having the character unavailable. If i was offered Quasar with Moondragon as part of the package, i’d be ecstatic, i would absolutely love to write Moondragon but, much like Kismet and Makkari, i wouldn’t want to detract from Quasar. If Phyla is alive or dead, i wouldn’t mind doing some stuff with her if i was able to.

Blue Shield and Jack of Hearts i’d probably drop in on once or twice. Wundarr too. I’d also like to have Tom Foster show up at least once. Project PEGASUS i’d like to have show up regularly, similar to how it did in DnA’s Nova, and I have more than a few ideas for which character i’d want working there. Speaking of Nova, same as Moondragon really, i’d be at the whims of what I’m allowed to do but I would love if i could include Nova. 

Love interests is probably the hardest and most conflicting for me. You all know I 200% would love to pursue Wendell and Moondragon but I 300% know that that ship has sailed. I would never want to pursue that in an actual comic because I know it is grossly unprofessional and would enrage a huge fanbase - a huge fanbase that i would like to have on board, especially if i was allowed to write Moondragon, so i absolutely wouldn’t break-up Moondragon and Phyla for my Moondragon and Wendell (of whom, i still think i am the only shipper). But at the same time, i definitely would not make no reference to that, maybe have a bit of flirting or a stray thought here or there, but never commit to that.

Kayla is already off the board as i said and Kismet is part of another problem i have… it’s linked to the same thing as Makkari and co. - i think a solo star having a love interest who is featured prominently and is equally as powerful or more powerful than them creates story-telling problems. And no this isn’t me being sexist or misogynist screaming “boys should be stronger”, if I was writing Carol Danvers i’d never have her in a relationship with Silver Surfer.

With that said, i did really like how Brian Reed told Ms. Marvel and Spider-Man’s brief relationship in Ms. Marvel, so that has opened my eyes more to the possibility that Quasar can have a “super-girlfriend” and not have it intrude too much on his own book. Kismet is the obvious contender but I also quite like the idea of Quasar and Monica Rambeau or Quasar or maybe a female Nova Corps member. Jennifer Kale might be worth pursuing something with but i don’t see it as a long-term thing.

But my heart lies in making it a “civilian” love interest. I absolutely don’t want it to be a new character, it seems such a trope and part of my feelings (less so with absolute civilians but with say SHIELD agents or Daily Bugle reporters) is that the MU is too populated. My first thoughts for a civilian love interest were: Evelyn Necker (depending on her current status) from Project PEGASUS or Talia Kruma from Starcore as they both can be implemented into the stories well as well as providing a chance for Quasar to do stuff during down-time. But my problem with them is one doesn’t quite match with Quasar and the other is a real non-entity… so then I thought of two very good ideas and one mediocre one. The SHIELD agent girlfriend is another annoying trope imo but i thought Gail Runciter would be a good choice. There’s some backstory there with them having both gone to SHIELD academy together, so bringing them back together isn’t absurd and having them have some affection isn’t entirely out of the blue. The other would be Cap’s ex Bernie Rosenthal. I think they would absolutely get along and have a nice chemistry and shared belief systems and Bernie’s not been around much at all since Gruenwald. Both of these ones being characters I link to Gruenwald also feels right. Joy Mercado would be the 3rd choice, a non-starter of a Spider-Mna love interest, she is about as random as they come but she hasn’t been in a comic since 1994 and i thought she was quite cool (plus Daily Bugle reporter is the other trope). While i’m at it, for all 2 people interested, i would definitely fill in the backstory with Jeannine o’Connell…

Artwise, i think art is very important for a Quasar book. This is probably not the priority most people would lead with but I’d want an artist who could draw a monthly book. When it comes to style, i think something a bit classic-y or old school would work or maybe something that combines those elements with a slight anime/manga feel (i.e. something like Greg Capullo…). So my idea for artists range greatly. One of my recent thoughts was Gang Hyuk Lim from Darkhawk as he definitely captures something I can see working but i don’t really know his capabilities. Juan Jose Ryp is another top candidate. There’s loads of great artists like Aaron Lopresti, Sean Chen, Andrea Divito, Tom Grummett… I’d happily have on board but not entirely convinced if they would strike quite what i envision or if they can all meet that monthly schedule. Maybe some veterans still in the industry like Ron Lim or Keith Pollard or, this would be great, Walt Simonson. But to be honest, i think the best choice would be to get a 90s artist who mostly works commissions now… most of them have improved fantastically. MC Wyman, Michael Bair or even past Quasar artist Andy Smith I would be happy to have - they’ve all become fantastic artists since their 90s heyday and would strike the right look. My random outsider choice would be CP Smith from New Invaders, in fact, he’d probably be quite up there on my list, maybe even first choice (if he could meet a monthly deadline). If Greg Capullo could do covers, that’d be amazing…

i would love to write a Quasar series but as i said i don’t think Quasar needs a series. i think it’s a prospect that should only be pursued if there is direction and a real drive and commitment to Quasar and his stories. if there’s absolute confidence in what is going on in it. I don’t think Quasar can ever be anything above a niche book but it could play the strengths of being a niche book. on the flipside, i would hate if they did a Quasar series that completely took the character in a bad direction or really revamped him badly (like someone like Warren Ellis would do) with having him be a chain-smoking cynic or having him become a “Cosmic shaman”. I think my idea for a Quasar book would be cool and some people would love it but i don’t think the audience for it is necessarily still around and even if they were that it’d be sufficient enough to justify a series.

[hellolisagreen]

On grief comas, music and waking up.

This is a reflection of grief, time and waking up. And of how much I love Go Farther in Lightness, an album I love so much I can’t talk about it without sounding unhinged (I don’t care).

There are moments in my life in which music has played such a strong role that I can vividly recall them like a soundtracked movie scene: driving across the Simpson Desert with my dad, listening to Born to Run and falling in love with Springsteen and stories of underdogs; being 17, lying in my room in the dark, listening to XO by Elliott Smith and trying to drain the deep well of my depression by just crying alone for hours; hearing Otis Redding for the first time while watching Dirty Dancing and having simultaneous musical (Redding) and sexual (Swayze... and Redding) awakenings; watching Rage at 2am and seeing Jeff Tweedy perform Sunken Treasure live, hearing in him a yearning I felt in my own little melancholy heart.

These are the records that I have loved fiercely and forever. Songs that are so etched in my personal history that I can’t listen to them too much or too often - they always make me feel the same way they did when I was 13, 17 or 20.

Except that for the last couple of years, they didn’t make me feel much of anything. Which, for someone who loves having feelings, was not a great time.

My dad died from pancreatic cancer a year ago; before that he was sick for a long time, during which my mum also had cancer (she is now cancer-free), David Bowie died and, soon after, so did the last IVF embryo I was brave enough to entrust to my apparently-deeply-untrustworthy uterus. Cancer and miscarriages are, as it turns out, massive bummers.

Dad and I had an extremely close but deeply difficult relationship - which is definitely material for a different post, and many therapy sessions -  and his death left me untethered and disoriented, trying to reconcile what it meant to have this central, foundational force in my life just... disappear. It prompted questions and feelings I wasn’t ready to deal with, and a grief I wasn’t prepared for.

For the next 10 months, I really struggled to work my way out of a grief that settled on me like a fog. I wasn’t sad all the time - in fact, the strange thing was that for someone with a volume of emotions like mine, my grief was very quiet. Instead of adding sadness, grief just put the best parts of me to sleep. It was the absence of spirit. An abdication of drive and optimism. A deep loss of intellectual curiosity and want to explore and question the world around me. I just kind of retreated into a very safe, interior life and felt disconnected from my soul, even as I was actively working through my reaction to the losses of my dad and my dream of a family.

I did all the ‘right’ things a grieving person should do: I went to counselling and unpacked a lot of emotional baggage; I worked in a job I loved that kept me motivated on days I otherwise wouldn’t have got out of bed; I surrounded myself with supportive friends who met me for lunch and told me I looked nice when I had unbrushed hair and was wearing a stained hoodie; and I had the most supportive husband who loved and nurtured me as I dealt with my dead dad and disengaged spirit.

But honestly, after a year of working and waiting for my fog to dissipate, I was just really tired. Feeling dead inside for a year or so really takes it out of a lady. I was tired, restless and ready to just move the fuck on already.

So I will perceive it as no less than a gift from the universe that soon after my spiritual pins and needles started kicking in, Simon told me about a new song he liked. It was called Let Me Down Easy by a Sydney band, Gang of Youths.

I Spotified (is that verb yet?) them a few weeks later, and put on a track called The Heart is a Muscle. And by maybe 2 minutes in, I had lost my ever-loving shit. I was inconsolable, barely even hearing the music over my own crying. But it wasn’t 'my dad is dead and I’ll never have a baby and life is garbage’ crying - which, up to this point, was the only crying I’d known for a couple of years. This was, ‘Oh shit, here come all of my feelings’ crying. A crying that comes from just connecting to someone’s art. A crying I used to love and indulge in on the reg as a means of controlling my personal overflow of emotions. A crying I missed so much.

As I listened to the rest of the album, I was in full snotty-nose-red-face-puffy-eyes cry face and I couldn’t have been happier. This album about love and grief and sadness and hope and connection and literature and philosophy and exploration... this album, man - it woke me the fuck up. It was like a defibrillator to my spirit.

Go Farther in Lightness helped unlock something in me that literally years of therapy never did, and something it was beginning to feel like time never would: my want. My want for change, for more, to explore and be challenged, to live a life of purpose again. It made me reflect on how lucky I am to have a partner who I love, like and trust to the marrow of my bones. It prompted me to go to the library and get out books on philosophy and politics, which I haven’t done in at least a year. It makes me want to dance on the damn station platform as I wait for my morning train. It makes me want to be more myself.

Every record I have ever truly loved has been there for me at a time when I was finding myself - but none has ever led me back to myself. In a beautiful confluence of events, Go Farther in Lightness came to me at the right time to do exactly that. For that, I am just filled with gratitude for these guys and their phenomenal talent. Particularly to Dave Le’aupepe for just laying all of his shit out there for us to feel with.

This is not a review of the album, because to review something I think you need to have some semblance of objectivity and obviously I have none. BUT, let’s be clear: beyond my weird over-identification with its content, Go Farther in Lightness is a majestic fucking banger. I could talk all day about its glorious pacing, bonkers-good guitaring, the gorgeous orchestral tracks, how it beautifully balances being vociferous, bold and anthemic with being intimate, comforting and deeply vulnerable.

And I will get to experience all of this IRL in February, when Simon and I see GoY headline at Let Go Fest. If you’re there, find me! I’ll be easy to spot: I’ll be the one alternating between ecstatic dancing and lying in the foetal position trying to deal with my emotions.

Just, you know, being thankful that I have them all back.

[jkl-fff]

Anon Asked: 28, 37, 52, 57, 71, 90.

28, What type of music do I like? Generally, I prefer fusions of classical and contemporary (like The Piano Guys or Lindsey Stirling), folk music (Mumford and Sons, Simon and Garfunkel, or Gordon Lightfoot), or softer and easier listening pop (Eric Hutchinson is a prime example, and so is Christine and the Queens or Stromae). But I’m also quite the fan of lounge or caf��-cabaret music (Pink Martini or Edith Piaf and other French café singers). To say nothing of everything I have tagged as “music” on my blog— I enjoy all of those immensely. Which, naturally, is why I reblogged them.

But if it’s for a long car ride, I prefer audiobooks. Especially mysteries, whether suspenseful or comedic.

But if it’s for while I’m at home alone … I actually prefer silence (with the white noise of, like, a fan blowing). That allows me to hear my own thoughts and concentrate on whatever I’m writing or reading.

37, My favorite swear word? Either alliterative and over-the-top exclamations, such as: “By Prometheus’ pot-making palms!” or “Fructivore’s face follicles!” … Or the word “damnation”, but with my own particular inflection, which rings thusly: “DAMmmmNAY-SHUN!” … Or a bluestreak of French obscenities, preferably around people who don’t speak a word of French. Heh heh!

Unless it’s to insult someone, in which case it’s “You (adjective) bastard!” (Something like: “You smug bastard!” or “You Benedict-Cumberbatch- cheeked bastard!” or “You unreasonably-attractive bastard!”)

52, My favorite food(s)? In no particular order: Fresh fruit salad (with mangos, peaches, and strawberries). A spinach salad with a green onion based, balsamic-bacon dressing that my Mom makes every easter. Duck a l’orange and ratatouille de Provence. Huckleberry ice cream with angelfood cake. Australian Black licorice. Saltines with brie or sharp cheddar.

57, How long does it take for me to get ready? Obviously, it will depend on what I’m preparing for, but I can generally be ready to roll out the door for class or work in under 15 minutes (since I usually bathe in advance, and as a separate activity— something done while reading or writing to relax). I mean, I’m a guy, so I don’t *have* to put on makeup in order to look presentable; and I have a beard, so if I don’t shave, no one notices; and my hairstyle is a simple ponytail, so I only have to brush my long, luxurious, but manageably straight mane of hair … and I’m ready to go. Really, the stuff that takes the longest is picking out an outfit (I have to make sure it’s not the thing I wore the day before, so that people won’t think I’m a gross hobo), putting on my gay bracelets (two of them are really tricky to tie … but it’s all worth it knowing no one will ever mistake me for straight again, or at least will look quite dense if they do), and brushing my teeth (I do it thoroughly, because—DAMmmmNAY-SHUN!—my teeth have had a lot of money invested in them, so I’m going to make them last).

71, What makes me nervous? … Conversations where I have to rock the boat, as it were. Make complications for others, or even disappoint them. For example, in the past two weeks, I’ve had to tell my professors that I’m going to be withdrawing from an academic program I’m in … And, of course, as I knew they would be, they were all understanding of my reasons, and supportive, and saddened at the prospect of me leaving (nobody was angry, or anything like that, and it wouldn’t have mattered). As I knew that would be … As I was intellectually *certain* they would be … And yet, for the five minutes that happened after each meeting, I had to ground myself by running my hands over things with uneven textures (bricks, tree bark, wrought iron) and mantraing “It’s okay … Breathe … It’s okay … Breathe … Everything’s okay … Breathe …”

Isn’t that silly? Huzzah for life with anxiety …

90, What makes me angry? Few things anger me more, actually, than the rise of what we might call “cringe culture” (and other similar acts of casual cruelty), almost invariably perpetrated by faux-“intellectual” fuckboys (the kind of people who riot for a chicken nugget sauce) because they have no other way to feel good about their own useless and miserable lives than to bully others.

Like, life can suck so much already just on its own, y’know? So it makes me absolutely ecstatic when people find something that brings them pleasure or even happiness— something that so impassions them that they willing invest their time and energy in immersing themselves in whatever that thing is, that they get giddily excited just when they get the occasion to talk about it with someone else … to share it … To say nothing of when I see fanart and fanfic, even for fandoms I’m not in … That restores some of my faith in humanity, quite frankly, because it proves that there are people out there still alive enough to create something, to produce things, to *MAKE ART*.

Wonderful people who aren’t so beaten down by the latent misery of the world that they’ve become cripplingly jaded or cynical … People who are nerds, geeks, and dorks … And then to know that there are toxic trolls who would try to ruin that just for their own kicks? To crush the spirit—the very *joie-de-vivre*— of someone else simply because they’re too weak and spiteful to create something of their own? To take away one of someone else’s precious few sources of pleasure and even happiness because they’re just … just a hateful waste of a human being?

Gods above and below and three steps to the side, that makes my blood boil!

[tipsoctopus]

'Unbelievable' - Loads of Wolves fans react as they banish unwanted record

Wolves have been a joy to watch in their first season back in the Premier League and they only emphasised that with a phenomenal 3-1 win over Arsenal last Wednesday night.

And it was a landmark win for the club as they beat the Gunners for the first time in 40 years, ending a run of 20 games without a victory against the north London side.

Supporters of Nuno Santo’s team were obviously delighted with the win but they are also ecstatic at finally ending their run of games without defeating their opposition on the night.

One fan claimed it was revenge for ‘that’ cup semi-final, making reference to when Arsenal beat them in the 1997/98 season in the FA Cup by a goal to nil.

Two supporters said they were just a year old the last time Wolves beat the Gunners whilst another recalled watching it with their dad.

Amazingly, the club’s elder fans have had to wait since 1979 for a win over Arsenal when on the 29th September, Wolves triumphed 3-2 in the old Division One.

A Wolves fan shares his most gutting moment of the last 10 years supporting the club in the video below…

Their win this time came courtesy of goals from Ruben Neves, Matt Doherty and Diogo Jota who were all phenomenal as the club reaffirmed their top seven hopes.

Here’s the best of the reaction.

That’s for that cup semi.

— Mike K (@mhk2171) April 24, 2019

I was 1year old back then lol

— gamer (@anthony94520648) April 25, 2019

I was 1 at that last match. Helluva wait.

— Simon Jones (@SimonJo66852173) April 24, 2019

Wow ?

— alex morrison (@mozzymozbourne) April 24, 2019

Don’t I know it!

— Woof The Wolf (@Woof_the_wolf) April 24, 2019

The year I left school #Unbelievable

— Simon Cotterill (@simoncotters) April 24, 2019

I was there

— He’s Spatacus (@davekbates) April 24, 2019

I remember watching that with my dad! ?????

— ?JWwolf? (@AndyT3rry) April 24, 2019

Its been a long long time coming for us oldies!! ?

— Epic_Wolf (@Epic_Wolf) April 24, 2019

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