#bio: chris beck

[grimmusings]

♢ Chris Beck (25+) ⭒ The Martian ⭒ Sebastian Stan ♢

Dr. Christopher Beck is a canon character from The Martian. His portrayal is primarily pulled from headcanons and a mix of book and film influences. He’s a Yale University graduate, a licensed medical doctor, astronaut, flight surgeon, biologist, and EVA specialist. Unless writing with a Beth Johanssen muse, that relationship was purely platonic. All details vary based on verse, and I’m happy to write him into crossovers or AUs.

♢ verses: ⭒ canon (+/-): Any events that take place in The Martian universe, either during or after Mark Watney’s rescue. ⭒ college!verse: Beck is attending Yale University for a doctorate in biomedical science and hoping to someday go into space. ⭒ mcu: A crossover AU with the Marvel Cinematic Universe, where NASA has help from Stark Industries in Mark Watney’s rescue. ⭒ alien!verse: Beck is the medical doctor aboard the Nostromo when it goes to investigate a distress signal and discovers the Xenomorphs.

[man-on-mars]

Used to use Upcheive to get tutoring. One of them was named Chris and I favorited him and he hard carried me through AP bio

Now I'm wondering, is there a chance that was Chris Beck?

Cause I was talking to my daughter about my own experiences using that and I remembered he 100% told me he wanted to go to space after he graduated

Honestly? Solid chance it could be. I remember he mentioned tutoring when he was in school on the way here (mars) so. There's a possibility. I'll ask him if the Get Off Of Mars plan goes well

[ofmagicallonging]

This is the short list of muses. Links to bios to be added

Witches

Robin Turner - Toby Regbo -28 - florist - Seer - Male - Pansexual - Submissive

Zachariah Turner - Derek Theler - 35 - Vet - Charms Witch - Male - Bisexual - Submissive

Felix Turner - Andrew lee potts - 40 - Writer - Potion Witch - Male - Homosexual- Switch

Theodore Turner - Chris Pine - 45 - Lawyer - Charms Witch - Male - Bisexual - Switch

Xaiver Turner - Kit Harrington - 37 - Teacher - Potion Witch - Male - Pansexual- Switch

Blaise Shocken - Andy Biersack - 320 - freelance magic specialist - Necromancer - Male - Homosexual- Submissive

Heaven and Hell

Salem Darcy - Ncuti Gatwa - 345 - Dancer - Bartender - Non Binary - Bisexual - Switch

Hazel Spencer - Emma Myers - 99 - Waitress - Sucubus - Female - Pansexual - Submissive

Nakoa Kalani - Winston Duke - 40 - Personal Trainer - Demon - Male - Pansexual- Switch

Cecil Newton - Henry Cavil - 510 - Business owner - Demon - Male - Bisexual - Switch

Faith Conley - Jacob Anderson - 401 - Cam Boy - Angel - male - homosexual- submissive

Shifters

Violet Lindsay - Jessical Sula - 30 - Radio Host - Raccoon Shifter - Female - pansexual - submissive

Lucky Dellingham - Tanner Buchanan - 230 - Town Councilor- Dalmatian Shifter - male - homosexual - submissive

Aofie Carlson - Anson Lo - 29 - Personal Assistant - Red Panda Shifter - male - pansexual - switch

Sawyer Khan - Idris Elba - 52 - Doctor - Tiger Shifter - male - homosexual - Switch

Otto Garrison - Rami Malek - 43 - Bar Owner - Armadillo Shifter - Trans male - pansexual - Switch

Wolf Pack

Billy Woods - Michael b jordan - 37 - Card Dealer - Wolf - Male - pansexual - Switch

Ruben Crossby - Dacre Montgomery - 456 - Owner of an Art Gallery - Wolf - Male - bisexual - Switch

Ajay Bishop - Archie Renaux - 22 - mechanic - Human raised by wolves - male - pansexual - Submissive

Barnaby Hanson - Pedro Pascal - 143 - bookshop owner - wolf - Male - homosexual - submissive

Dragons

Gethin Beck - Tom Hardy - 231 - Bodyguard - Dragon - male - Homosexual - Switch

Frankie Graves - Eddie Redmanye - 43 - Illustrator- Dragon - trans male - Homosexual - Submissive

Leo Woods - Reece King - 115 - playboy - Dragon - non binary - Pansexual - Switch

Vampires

Corian Greybelle - Jayden Revri- 25 - Baristia - Vampire - male - pansexual - Switch

Cymbeline Stone - Gemma Chan - 120 - museum curator - Vampire - Female -  Bisexual - Switch

Fae

Pearl Manning - Mason Alexander park - 100 - circus performer - ice fae -  non binary - pansexual - switch

Courtney Arnold - James Sweeney - 30 - Prostitute - Changeling - male -  homosexual - submissive

Kenneth Proctor - Hugh Jackman - 357 - Therapist - high court fae - male - bisexual - switch

Tilly Belle - Dove Cameron - 320 - Bartender - Fairy - female - bisexual - Submissive

[beck-hartman]

MERROCK TASK #9: THE INSPIRATION BEHIND…Benedict "Beck" Hartman:

I want to be free as the winds that blow past me Clear as the air that I breathe To be young as the morning and old as the sea

Playlist:

Home by Passenger Fool's Gold by Passenger Young as the Morning Old as the Sea by Passenger Half a Man by Dean Lewis Just Not Each Other by William Fitzsimmons (Backstory for ex-love, see wc) Aw Naw by Chris Young

Summary:

He is inspired mainly by the concept of wanderlust and songs by Passenger. I drew a lot of inspiration from him being a brother too, since I knew I was filling the wanted connection. The root of him really is that. He's sort of a brother first.

I really wanted a character who was just fun, sort of chaotic and a bit comedic relief, kinda like Rudy's OBX character, JJ, in that way only. The JJ inspiration is in the comedy elements and fashion to an extent. I feel like they dress the same. Other than that, I wanted to keep them separate.

Wanderlust was its own theme. Just a word that popped into my head when I was thinking about who I wanted him to be, and I just sort of leaned into that. The personification of that idea. I put on some Passenger songs (see playlist above) and wrote up his bio over a couple days.

Beck's mild Peter Pan complex comes from an old RP character I wrote years ago. I pulled in some elements from that character's musing and playlist tags.

[georgiapeach30513]

Hi Jen! Can I send a what-if request? What if Aster and Beck met during her partying days and he was Ellie’s bio dad?

Here's the thing...Ellie is a product of Aster and Mickey. So we wouldn't be getting an Ellie, but an Elio. However, life for Aster would be vastly different. Aster and Beck are meant to be. So even if she was involved Mickey, things would change quickly with the meeting of Beck. Those two LOVE each other fully. Beck brings out the best parts of Aster. After meeting him, we see her walls fall down. And not only that but how she is at home. Who would have thought that Aster would have allowed a cat in her house. And that's not the only pets they get...

🖤🖤🖤🖤

Azzie Got a Moon Man

Summary: what if Aster met Beck when she was partying?

Pairings: Aster X Beck

Rating: mild

Warnings: implied jumping on the bed, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 1.6K

Desperate Lives AU Masterlist

What If...? Masterlist

Aster dances around, giving the DJ a long look. The two of them continuing to eye one another throughout the night. She knows he’s nothing but trouble, but she hates ending the night alone. Can’t stand the thought of going back to her family home, trying to drag herself in and pretend to not be drunk.

She knows her dad knows. He always does. Always waits up for her, with her mom passed out on him, while a movie plays. “You know you can always call us,” he sees every time.

“Uber is a wonderful thing.”

“Azzie,” she turns her nearly identical eyes to her father, while he pets on his wife’s arm. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”

She never responds. Just goes up to her room. But here in this club, she has a moment of freedom. Just her and the music, and the hot DJ, who does not care where he fucks her.

Needing a quick refreshment she walks to the bar asking for a whiskey sour. Her body still bouncing to the music when a stranger catches her eye. “Put it on my tab,” he answers.

“It takes more than that to get a girl like me,” she gives the stranger with kind eyes a smile.

“That’s what I was hoping.”

That was all it took for her eyes to abandon Mickey. The strange man that couldn’t quit smiling at her in such a sweet way. The one that kept getting his chair closer, until he’s pulling her out of that club to go to his house. Her lips always wanting to attach to his, but he holds her steady. All up until the point she passes out.

With a smirk at her lifeless body he carries her to the bed. Tucking her in, he goes to walk away for the night. Placing a bucket beside her bed, in case she gets sick before going to sleep on his couch.

Aster wakes the following morning confused as to where she is and even worse how she got there. With a look around the room she begins to get up only to sit back down with a groan. “I was wondering when you were going to wake up, sleeping beauty.”

“Who are you?” Aster asks looking around. “Did we uh, I mean…oh god.”

“I’m Chris Beck, but everyone calls me Beck. And no, nothing happened. I slept on the couch because you couldn’t even walk into my house. How’re feeling?”

“Death. I feel like death. What the shit?”

Beck gives a little giggle looking over the woman.

“How did you get to the club?”

“Friends. Glad you’re not a serial killer. I have such wonderful friends,” she rolls her eyes, but gasps. “Oh no no no,” grabbing up her phone she goes through the hundreds of texts and calls from Owin. A few demanding that her tight ass tells him she’s alive immediately. “Sorry, I need to make a phone call. The one good friend.”

Before she can call, they hear a loud booming knock on the door, “Aster Sapphire Drysdale, you open this door right now. I swear if you’ve hurt her, I am a big man. And uh, that’s my girlfriend.”

“You’re not my boyfriend,” Aster responds opening the door. Owin leans under the doorframe and takes a look around before spotting Beck. “And you full named me Owin Apollo.”

“Hi, I’m Owin, this is my girlfriend and I’m taking her home.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“I am. I’m glad you had your fun. Now I’m taking my girlfriend and you stay away from her.”

Aster cocks her hip to the side, arms crossed over her chest as she glares at him, “I’ll carry you out of here.”

“Beck this is Owin, my friend. Owin this is Beck. The man that brought me from the club and let me sleep on his bed, while he slept on the couch.”

“You slept on the couch?” Beck gives a nod looking up at the giant. “You didn’t touch my girl?”

“I’m confused,” Beck looks between the two friends. “I don’t want to come in between you two.”

“She’s not really my girlfriend. She’s my bestie. I’m not a fighter, but I would be for her. So nothing happened?” Beck shakes his head no. “Well, exchange numbers and you can do this in the daylight, not inebriated. Take her on a date. Get to know her. Keep her out of the club and away from that DJ, that would be great. It’s nice to meet you Beck. But I have a Mrs. D who told me I have to get this beautiful woman with the great legs home in one piece so I appreciate you for not cutting her up.”

_______________________________________

Aster looks down at her exposed chest in Beck’s mirror. Giving them a little squeeze before turning to the side. “Do I look like I’ve gained weight to you?”

“Nope,” Beck responds getting out of the shower. “I’m not an idiot, I’m not answering that. You look gorgeous.”

“First off, Christopher, I asked if I gained weight, not if I was pretty. Secondly,” she turns to the side, her hand rubs over her belly slowly, before she gets a panicked look in her eyes. “Oh shit.”

“What, Starlight.”

Grabbing up her phone she goes to her period app, “Nononono, the doctor said it was highly unlikely.”

“What?”

“I’m four weeks late.”

“Your phone tell you that?”

“Yes. Oh no. This is bad. This is…”

“Why is it bad?” his arms snake around her waist, lips kissing along her shoulders. “The bigger question is why do you always stare at yourself wearing nothing but panties?”

“Didn’t want a big ordeal for when you got out of the shower. I contemplate every time just staying naked. But I’m four weeks late.”

“Then we get a test.”

“We just met, oh gee, eight weeks ago.”

“I guess it’s time for me to meet the mysterious Drysdale’s that live down the creepy ass road that you can’t go down unless you have access,” Aster gives him a pout. “What?”

“We’ve been drinking.”

“You didn’t know pregnancy was an option.”

“This wasn’t supposed to happen. We’re just good sex.”

“Is that all? There’s times we don’t even go out? Times we stay in, and I see how long I can make you cum on my mouth before you’re pushing me away. We never make it through a movie.”

“But a baby…that’s different. We barely know each other. We can’t do this,” Aster presses her forehead up against his chest and he wraps his arms around her tight.

“We can if you want to. You said you wanted kids but were told you couldn’t have any, so you accepted it. Why don’t we start with a test.”

“I don’t even know what you do.”

“I’m an astronaut.”

“Oh bull shit. That’s what guys say at a bar to impress a girl. What do you do?” he guides her into his office. Pictures of him working at NASA and even him on the moon. “So you’re an astronaut.”

“And we’re going to get a test.”

________________________________________

Beck stares at the woman he barely knew, and now can’t get enough of, in her arms a peacefully sleeping son, that she still hasn’t let him hold. Her eyes almost always on that little baby boy. Slow tears constantly flowing out of her eyes. “Thank you.”

“Why, Starlight?”

“You gave me something I never knew I wanted. I’m not a baby person, but he’s perfect. I want you to hold him, but I can’t let him go yet.”

He leans over planting a lingering kiss to her temple. “Elio Oliver Beck, you tell your mama that she can hold you as long as she needs. It can’t be easy to have had you inside of her for nine months, and now she thinks I have the right to steal you.”

“He’s yours, too.”

“You look beautiful holding him though. And eventually you’ll fall asleep. I’m gonna grab some coffee.”

“Ooh, iced americano, two stevias,” with that request he knows he’s going to have to drive to the cafe and grab Aster her favorite drink, but he also knows that Joshua and Owin are on their way. “If you need anything else.”

“I’m good, Moonbeam.”

Aster continues staring at her son, her fingers rubbing along his soft skin when her two friends walk in the room. Neither saying anything just watching her. Aster is rarely soft. Not this soft, and she never stays this soft for long. “Can I hold him?” Owin asks.

“No. Next person to hold him is Beck. I just can’t let him go,” Joshua gives her a soft kiss to her cheek before looking into her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” he asks her with a grin.

“I wanna marry him,” her lip trembles when she looks at her friend. The one she made a pact that they would get married if they weren’t already by the time she turned thirty-five.

“Azzie are you happy?” he asks her with so much sincerity.

“I’m so happy Joshie. We were supposed to be fooling around. But he’s perfect.”

“I’m just glad it wasn’t that fucking DJ,” Owin groans. “I’d prefer Joshie over that.”

“Mickey wasn’t so bad.”

“He’s an ass. He probably wouldn’t have made it to Elio’s birth.”

“Well,” Joshua says trying to get the two to quit bickering. “At least now we don’t have to find out. Azzie got her a moon man.”

Masterlist

[elles-archives]

The requesting rules are really simple. Please read these before requesting anything.

1. The Characters I write for are (I no longer write for Harry Potter Characters):

Chris Evans

Andy Barber - Defending Jacob

Ari Levinson - The Red Sea Diving Resort

Colin Shea - What’s Your Number

Curtis Everett - Snowpiercer

Jake Jensen - The Losers

James Mace - Sunshine

Johnny Storm - Fantastic Four

Mike Weiss - Puncture

Nick Vaughan - Before We Go

Ransom Drysdale - Knives Out

Sebastian Stan

Charles Blackwood - We Have Always Lived In The Castle

Chase Collins - The Covenant

Chris Beck - The Martian

Frank - Endings, Beginnings

Lance Tucker - The Bronze

Lee Bodecker - The Devil All The Time

Tom Holland

Harrison Osterfield

Henry Cavill

Chris Hemsworth

Scarlett Johansson

Elizabeth Olsen

Zendaya

If you want me to write for any others then please let me know. I may not do them but I will give it a shot.

2. This rule is more for Actors and their Characters requests. Please tell me details. E.g. type of relationship (Romantic, Platonic, daughter!reader, sister!reader.), if you want to use any prompts, whether it is smut, angst or fluff.

3. Requests can be put in my asks or privately message me I don't mind.

4. Just remember that I don't have to do requests if I don't want to but I want to get through most of them.

5. Please don't request the same thing that you have requested to somebody else as I don't want to copy anyone’s work or ideas.

6. PLEASE DON’T REQUEST SMUT IF YOU ARE UNDER 18. I can’t stop what people read but I will put a warning on any content I believe need it. If your age is not in your bio I will not accept the request for smut.

7. I don’t write about rape, incest, stepcest, twincest, dd/lg, dub-con/ non-con or suicide. I have the right to not write about a request if it makes me uncomfortable but I may change the story line slightly.

Thank you - Ellen x

[kashimos-hajime]

all the stars are closer | c.b.

summary: mark watney wasn’t the only one left behind on mars, and as you struggle to survive on the desert planet, hidden feelings come to light between you and your best friend, dr. chris beck.

WARNINGS: fluff, angst, pining, confessed feelings, probably terrible space jargon but i tried :^), swearing, movie-level injuries pairing: chris beck x fem!reader word count: 7.9k

a/n: written for @baezen​​​. my prompt was have you ever wanted to hate someone? with chris beck :D inspired by say something by a great big world. i wrote this from 12-5am this morning and i’ve perused for mistakes but excuse me if there are still some left!

SOL 18

The sol you’re left behind is… unexpected to say the least.

The winds pick up the sand so heavily your headlights barely pierce through the thick gusts as you push yourself against the current. Small clumps of sand brush against your helmet as you turn to close the door to the Hab behind you. It locks with a groan and you give it a small push to make sure before you turn around again, your eyes focus on Watney’s suit in front of you, desperate not to lose sight of him.

The wind whips at your body, slams into you like a hundred punches all over your suit. It’s as if claws dig into your legs and drag you back. Each step is agonizingly slow.

“Commander, we’re at 10 degrees. The MAV is gonna tip at 12.3.” Martinez’s voice rings in your ears as the punishing sand blocks your vision of Watney for a split second. Your heart is thrumming in your throat and you try to reach forward against the gales but you can barely raise your arms higher than your waist.

Metal crunches, bending under the force of the storm and you raise your head, squinting to try and make out the structures around them. All you see are shadows, silhouettes of your friends and you inhale sharply when a rock flies into the glass of your helmet. Flinching back, you lower your head as your eyes scan for cracks.

“You good, Y/N?”

Chris’ voice rattles in your helmet as you look up. He’s one of the figures in the far distance but you smile anyway, continuing your walk towards him.

“Yeah. You spying on my vitals, Beck?” you tease and his slight chuckle warms your blood as you step over a fallen line.

“That’s Dr. Beck, and no. Just checking up on my crew mates.”

“Hey, lovebirds and companions!” Watney calls. “We might be able to keep the MAV from tipping.”

“How?”

“Use cable from the comms mast as guy lines, anchor it with the Rover’s—” A particularly strong burst of wind knocks you back a few steps, distracting you from Watney’s idea. Your muscles screech in protest as you catch yourself, trying to regain your balance. Your foot digs in awkwardly into the sand as another gale swerves from the side and knocks you right into a crouch.

Lessons at the Academy ring in your ear as the storm howls louder. There’s a faint whistling, hollow in your skull, and you keep your eyes on the two lines of your crew, still heading forward. You’ll give yourself three seconds. Three seconds to just stabilize yourself and then you’ll need to catch up.

Make yourself smaller, ground yourself. You need to realign your centre of gravity.

Your instructor’s voice in your head repeating the words over and over again, you begin to stand up again. Sucking in a lungful of stale air, you take your first step forward. You’re dead focused on keeping your balance and making it to the MAV. There’s nothing more you want than to just sink into the seat, buckled in beside Chris.

“Watch out!”

You don’t see it coming.

Mark Watney slams into you at inhumane speeds. Screaming, you’re knocked off your feet and lifted into the air by the winds pushing you in every direction. Your head jerks forward into the helmet before snapping back, and your whole body alights with fire. Watney’s body is limp against yours and you struggle to get a hold on him, fingers slipping on his wrist. You can barely hear yourself over the storm, your throat burning raw as you catch sight of your arm computer.

/WATNEY /SIGNAL LOST

“Mark? Mark! Wake up!” You glance around, your neck beginning to freeze up from the whiplash. The sharp ping of his decompression alarm rings in your ears, a warning of the death to come and you let out a desperate scream.

There are no figures in sight. No crew members. No one is going to find you in a near-zero visibility storm.

Wrapping your arms around Mark as tight as you can to keep him nearby, you close your eyes and redirect all your energy to staying awake. Metal is creaking, tarp is snapping, and the roaring winds whip at your flying bodies as something slams into your ribs.

“Watney!”

“Y/N!” Chris’ horrified scream of your name reverberates through your skull and you shout out his name, as if that’ll help you hone in on his suit. As if that’ll save you.

Arms dislodged from Mark, he flies past you just as another hard piece of metal sends you flying in another direction. Grasping at nothing but sand, you let out another piercing shriek as you tumble towards the ground.

The landing slams into your bones, and you feel like something breaks inside before everything goes black.

.

Broken ribs, whiplash, multiple contusions all over your body.

Your suit is nothing more than a pile on the ground as you stumble around the Hab for medical supplies and you barely manage to bring your bruised legs across to the table, the tray of supplies trembling in your weak hand. Your ribs are splitting, blistering pain as you try to suck in a breath, sinking onto the exam table as you carefully begin to peel off your shirt. Your chest screams at you to stop moving and the pain is blinding as you lift up your arms, fingers carefully hooked on the hem of your shirt and tug up.

“Fuck,” you grit out, your neck frozen in place as you try to get it unsnagged from your head. Your mind is racing, trying to come up with any way you could perform an epidural on yourself, as you grab the injection needle. You’ll need to be able to move with less pain than this if you want to get out of this mess, but you need another trained professional to dig it into your back.

You need Chris and you don’t have him here.

What you found is morphine, vials of different anesthetics, and needles. You load one of them up and the syringe is smooth against your clammy palm as you raise your arm haphazardly to your neck. It’s loaded with lidocaine and you press down against your neck, clenching your teeth as a soft click accompanied by a sharp nipping pain digs deeply into your wrenched muscles.

Tossing the anesthetic onto the table, you grab the oral meds. Acetaminophen tablets. You’re going to be needing a lot of them over the next few days as you try to work out your next course of action. Acetaminophen tablets and cold showers.

Great.

Popping one into your mouth, you crush it between your teeth and dry swallow, sweat glistening on your skin as you tilt your head back against the table and close your eyes. Lucky for you, your thoracic cavity only feels like it’s about to cave in when you breathe in.

Small blessings and all that.

You feel the sweet pull of sleep tug at your consciousness as you let out a sigh, melting against the warming metal table. Not that you’re keen on wasting away on Chris’ exam table, but it does sound nice at the moment. Your eyes fluttering shut, you try to ignore the sounds of your own laboured breathing and the sight of a deserted Mars. Ignore the fact that you barely limped your way back to the Hab after searching for Watney and the MAV.

So this wasn’t just some shitty dream. Your crew is really gone, and Watney really is dead.

Shit.

Eyebrows furrowing together, you force yourself into a sitting position despite the dulling ache in your neck and the consistently sharp pain in your chest. Breathing in quick puffs, you slide your legs off the exam table just as the low beep of the Hab repressurizing catches your attention.

No time to rest. I’m not going to die here.

“Pressure stable.”

Forcing yourself to your feet, you watch as a figure slowly limps to the second door.

And then the door opens and you see Mark Watney turning to look the Hab doors, alive.

This has to be a dream.

“Watney,” you call out hoarsely, throat still raw from screaming. Trying to get up, you stifle a groan and walk around Chris’ desk. You stumble to him on unsteady legs and he catches you by the arms as you search his gaze. He looks like shit. “You okay?” Helping him rip off his suit, your eyes scan for injuries as his rest on your face, utter relief flooding the air. “Couldn’t just fucking die, huh?”

“Neither could you, apparently,” he shoots back through a clenched jaw and you laugh despite how much it aches.

Thank god, you’re not alone.

SOL 21

“So you’re blaming me,” Mark affirms as you count the amount of mac and cheese they have left in the Hab.

32. 33. 34. 35.

“I mean, you did crash into me,” you point out, picking up another pack. 36. 37. 38. “The dish completely destroyed my bio-monitor computer.”

“It wasn’t my choice to get completely slammed by it,” he shoots back, counting his packets of beef goulash. A cold pack is strapped to your neck and there’s a few more shoved underneath your shirt for your ribs, and your skin is numb to the touch as you take a sip of juice from your bottle. Acetaminophen went down three hours ago. It’ll be time to take it again in another despite Watney’s insistence on the morphine. No, you’re saving it for when things get serious.

39. 40. 41. 42.

Not that being stranded on Mars isn’t serious.

“Forty two mac and cheeses,” you announce victoriously, setting the final pack in the tray and pushing it towards his side of the table so he can put it back on the shelf later. “Meatballs up next.”

“We can probably ration this out to three-hundred fifty days. Two people eating instead of seven. Three-quarters of a meal.”

“I’ll have half,” you say, beginning all over again with new packets. 1. 2. 3.

“You need to eat more. You’re still on bed rest.”

“I’m fine. We have work to do if we don’t want to die on this planet, Mark.”

“No.”

“I can do EVA and clear the solar panels. I have whiplash, I’m not dead.” you argue but Mark merely sends you a look as if to say, Try me. You roll your eyes and wince when he comes around the table and pokes your side.

“You have broken ribs that are under enough stress as it is. If it were anyone else, you would tell them to lie the hell down.”

Tossing him a glare, you bite out, “I’m fine when random men don’t poke me in the ribs.”

“My bad. Beck’s privileges,” he quips and you just manage to snipe him in the back of the head with a mac and cheese pack before he turns around. He merely gives you a hint of a smile before tossing the pack back at you going back to writing. You sigh, placing the mac and cheese pack back into the tray before turning to your meatballs.

You hadn’t even thought about Chris ever since realizing you’re not alone stranded on Mars, at least not in depth. Your best friend is no doubt losing his mind over leaving you behind—always had such a strong guilt over nothing—and now, when you let yourself feel it, his absence carves something hollow in your chest.

You miss him.

“You think they even thought that we might be alive?” you ask Mark quietly. You’re not angry that they left you behind. It was the practical thing to do, but you wonder if they wonder about the possibility, or if they’d rather sleep easier at night.

“I think that’s all they think about,” Mark says. “Lewis is gonna beat herself over this.”

You think of the Commander, then your thoughts turn to Chris again without any prompting. God. And what will your parents say?

A Thanksgiving dinner without you there is probably gonna be a bit down in the dumps, huh.

Then again, they’d planned not to have you and Chris back this year, so maybe it wouldn’t be too awful despite thinking their only child is dead.

Yikes.

SOL 79

“So are you and Beck really a thing?” Mark asks as you help him pull out the potato plants gently. “You know, making idle conversation while we farm our shit potatoes,” he adds when you shoot him a glare. Your ribs are on the mend and your neck is regaining its range of motion, but it still aches so you have to rotate at your waist to face him completely before you return back to your own gardening.

“We’re best friends, Watney.” Picking up the larger of the potatoes and placing it gently into your bucket, you spot Mark on the other end of their tiny greenhouse out of the corner of your eye, giving you a small smug grin. “So no, we’re not a thing. We’ve never been like that.”

“Never. Not even a tiny little slip?”

“Never. I’ve known him since we were like three and it’s just… he’s been by my side since forever. There’s never been a time when we could’ve been more. Not with everything that goes on.” School, then uni, then med-school, flight academy, Ares 3. Always something more. “This is… actually kinda the longest I’ve been without him hanging around, to be honest.” The confession leaves you breathless. Has it really been seventy-one sols since you saw your best friend? Last heard his voice?

Will it be the last time ever? Will you spend the rest of your life feeling so empty inside because only Chris can fill it with his laugh? WIth his smile? The perennial feeling of missing someone is tragic all in itself.

You move on to the next potato plant and slowly wiggle it out of the dirt. “Why’re you asking?” you ask to distract yourself. “You know it’s not recommended by NASA to be in relationships within the crew. Besides, we have a mission to focus on.”

“That doesn’t stop Beck at all.”

“What are you even talking about?” You laugh, trying to ignore the thought of Chris’ tiny little smile on Hermes whenever he floated past while you were working out or when they’d open emails together. Hermes had been your home with him and now… he’s there.

Alone.

“You think we don’t see you two flirting? God, you’d be off together for hours at a time and we’d all make bets on what you guys were doing.”

“You know you can’t have sex in space, right?” you point out and Mark wrinkles his nose. “I don’t even want to try it.”

“You can, actually. It would be aerobic.”

“And if you flew into a tied condom somehow, it would be our fault,” you retort with a smile, heat flooding your face. The idea of just having sex in a place where all your friends could catch you in the act? And with Chris? A guy who’s been by your side since day one? The thought sends shivers down your spine. Pleasant shivers. It’s not like you imagined what it’d be like—to hold his hand, to kiss him, to… go farther.

“That’s gross.”

You blink, turning to look at Mark for a moment. “Not that we’re that irresponsible. We’re doctors. Being sanitary is in our nature.”

“Look, all I’m saying is, Beck made some comments before we launched and I thought he’d have made a move by now.”

“Who said he hasn’t?” you murmur low enough that only you can hear, trying not to think about the words he whispered on Hermes when he thought you were sleeping. God, those words had haunted you every day since and the only reason they’ve been out of your mind is the high possibility of your death on Mars. Louder, you say, “Probably because we’re just friends, Watney.”

Friends.

The word tastes bittersweet on your tongue as you pick up another potato.

SOL 136

HRM: Apparently, NASA’s letting us talk to you now, and I drew the short straw.

HRM: Sorry we left you two behind on Mars, but we just don’t like you. Also, it’s a lot roomier on Hermes without you guys. We have to take turns doing your tasks, but it’s only botany (not real science.) and Beck can still work with his broken little heart.

HRM: How’s Mars?

In the Rover, you’re piled in behind Mark as he types out a response and you laugh at the tiny jest at Chris.

RVR: Dear Martinez, Mars is fine. I accidentally blew up the Hab, but unfortunately all of Commander Lewis’ disco music still survived.

“For the record, Y/N appreciates something to listen to besides me talking to the camera for hours on end,” you say and he nods, smiling as he transcribes your message.

RVR: Every day we go outside and look at the vast horizons just because we can. I’m going to hand the reins over to Y/N now. I think she’s had enough of me talking all the time.

Mark glances back at you and nods, getting out of the driver’s seat one way while you shimmy into the seat the other way. Sliding into the seat, you settle down with a sigh as Mark peers over your shoulder and you poise your fingers over the keyboard.

HRM: Dear Y/N, how’re the ribs coming along? And for the record, I do not have a broken little heart, but I do miss you a lot. It’s getting boring here without you, especially now that I have to deal with Johanssen thinking she has a brain tumour every two minutes.

RVR: Dear Chris, I miss you, too. My ribs are completely healed, thank you. It’s a lot harder to sleep at night knowing there’s a chance we might not come home, but I think about you a lot. Mostly, I think about the crew and how if one of them gets a paper cut, your sutures will never be as straight as mine. By the way, Johanssen is my girl. Do not talk about her that way.

“He’s tryna make you jealous,” Mark sings teasingly under his breath and you turn to smack him with a gloved hand before waiting for the response.

HRM: We’ll work it out. I hope Watney isn’t taking my place as your best friend with his potatoes.

RVR: Well, have you ever wanted to hate someone but you can’t because they’re vital to your survival and also they grow potatoes?

HRM: Why do you think I keep you around? Your mom’s mashed potatoes, of course. I love it more than you do.

Your smile digs into your cheeks as you read that message, and you feel your throat cinch shut as you swallow.

RVR: No, you don’t. It’s simply not possible.

You hope he can hear you somewhere, just saying those words outloud. You hope it sounds like you just like how you can hear his voice with every word he types.

HRM: Come home safe, Y/N. Space would be lonely without you otherwise.

RVR: As if I’d let you live in space without me.

SOL 186

You wake up to an empty Hab.

There is no movement, no rustling of Watney trying to make ends meet as you remember last night’s news.

Kapoor: The Iris probe failed to launch. I’m sorry.

Rolling onto your side, you feel your stomach howl. Clutching your side, you close your eyes and try to fall back asleep but your internal clock is ringing in your ears and even though there’s nothing more on the list, you get up anyway, blanket wrapped around you. Ever since you’ve cut down on meals, you’ve been going hungrier and hungrier, but you’re not losing your fat yet, thank god. You need to stay warm.

Passing by clear plastic covering the hole in the Hab, your eyes search for where the Rover was parked last night.

Not there.

So, Mark’s gone and left already. The two of you had decided last night in your bunk beds to simply take the days as they came—to travel as much as they could, see it all before they go.

It’s grim in hindsight, but it’s your ending life now.

Heading for the cabinet, you feel your whole body drag against the floor as you fight to keep your strength up. Although you’ve felt like you’ve been starving for at least four days now, there’s a new hollowness at the realization that there isn’t more food coming. You microwave a potato and cut a meatloaf into thirds before lining your plate with the vitamins needed to stay healthy. Heading to your work station, your eyes pass over a picture of you and Chris is still framed there.

You bite into the potato and feel it thick against your tongue. It’s a struggle to chew and even harder to swallow but you manage it anyway as you reach for the frame. The two of you, cheeks pressed together, newly earned stethoscopes around your necks. The day you guys graduated med school.

You loved him then. You’ve loved him your whole damn life. Loved him and felt your heart burst when he said those words in your quarters after carrying you there from games night.

Sweet dreams, Y/N. I love you, even though I know we could never be more than this.

But you’ve always been too afraid to tell him. Afraid of what? Afraid because it could’ve changed things?

Isn’t that what you always wanted? For him to see you as you saw him?

Setting down the frame, you turn away. You bring your meager meal to the computer and log into HabJournal, slumping down in the chair as you pull the blanket tighter around you. The camera focuses on you and it begins to record immediately as you set down your plate on the table.

“So, Sol 186,” you begin quietly, looking at your own image. You’re beginning to lose colour in your skin and your eyes are sinking from lack of sleep, but you bring a piece of meatloaf to your mouth and chew regardless. “Last night we were told the Iris probe failed to launch, so that means we stretched our rations for four more days for nothing, basically.” You set down your fork and knife, the meat heavy on your tongue as you try to think of what to say. Thoughts of Chris, your parents, the crew, flood your mind. “Guess that means we’re going to starve to death and no… dark humour can’t pull us out of this one. We found enough morphine for two lethal injections our first night here, so… if worse comes to worse… I mean—” You clear your throat— “we have to think of every outcome. Mark already asked Commander Lewis to tell his parents, you know, covering bases like I said.” Your eyes slip shut for a moment as you exhale and then you rouse yourself again, staring at your half-eaten ration. You don’t want to eat anymore.

“I have to stay awake until tonight. He’s gone out with the Rover and I need to send a message to the people I love. You know, cover my bases, too.” Eyes drifting, you spot another picture of you and Chris in Hermes, floating as you squirt some food into the air for him to eat, thumbtacked to the board. You were both smiling, laughing until your guts ached. It must’ve been something like tubed chocolate mousse or a pudding. Your favourite, you had said because it was.

Chris has the biggest sweet tooth out of anyone you know.

“There’s a lot of things I wish I could’ve said, I think,” you add softly, gaze going back to the screen. You tuck your knees to your chest and smile bitterly, a chuckle escaping just barely. “It’s just so stupid that we survive all this time just to… just to die because something failed. Like we did everything we could and it still… it just isn’t enough.” Picking up the potato with your bare hands, you pop the quarter left into your mouth and simply watch your image eat. “I don’t want to die,” you clarify once you swallow. “It’s not my intention to give up until it’s too late for sure, but you know, at least we accomplished something this time. I mean, I’m still trying to finish Chris’ chemolithotrophic experiment since Mark doesn’t understand anything about it so Ares 4 can pick up where I left off.

You know, on the bright side, we still got somewhere. Mark’s the greatest botanist on this planet, and I’m honoured to have helped him grow the very first lifeform on Mars. We fucking ate organic human-shit potatoes, baby. We could’ve done this thing.” You stare at the camera, and hope, when Chris watches your final journal log, he understands what you mean. “We definitely could’ve done it and it sucks, but that’s life. I knew what I was doing when I signed up, and this is so much bigger than two humans stuck on Mars. I know Mark feels the same way. We don’t regret this. It’s going to be okay, and I hope you guys can finish the mission if we end up... you know, gone before we can. Anyway, I’m gonna go make myself useful and check up on Chris’ experiment.

“This is Dr. Y/L/N signing out.”

.

RVR: Hey, Chris. Today’s been alright. Mark came back in better spirits and he actually got to work today with the other crew’s duties. It’s good to hear him joking after what we heard last night.

RVR: I know we never really planned for things to go this way. You know we talked about the possibility as a joke, but now that it might become a reality, I hope you know what I said was serious. You know, with the whole talking to my parents thing. Please talk to them and tell them all about Mars, and tell them that I love them so much, and just see them. Try to go every weekend like we used to together. You know, let them check up on you.

RVR: Yeah, I’m not asking you to check up on them, because you’re family, Chris. I’m asking you to let them check up on you. They’ll always be your rock, and you need them, too. You’re gonna need them when I’m gone. Gonna need to tell ‘em that you’re not okay, because… you’re not going to be okay. I know you.

RVR: You’ll blame yourself because you think you should’ve gone out into a eighty-six hundred Newton storm and I wish I can be there in person to tell you that it’s stupid, that there was no reason for you to believe I was alive and that giving up on me saved your life, but I know I can’t. You wouldn’t believe me, anyway.

RVR: And I love you, too. We could’ve been way more than this. Maybe we can be, if we have another chance. I don’t know. I don’t know anything except that I love you. I’ve loved you my whole life, and now, it might be too late.

RVR: If I don’t make it out alive, please move on. Please don’t get hung up on me just because you think of all the things we could’ve been. You’re my best friend, Chris. I don’t want to see you sad. I never have. Cry a few tears, move on, find a nice girl who’ll love you like I never was brave enough to admit I do, and just… maybe visit the grave every once in a while. That would be nice.

Your hands tremble as you type in your last words and then hit Enter.

RVR: I miss you more than anything. I love you.

SOL 219

“I can’t believe I blurted out my feelings and now we’re preparing for a chance to go home,” you call out over the comms. Mark inflates the tarp on top of the Rover and you watch, the roll of tape still on your hand as you jump off the vehicle. You land with a solid thump, the dust stirring around your boots. Excitement is pulsing through your veins for the first time in a long time as you turn to watch your day’s work begin to swell. “Just like, three hundred more sols and we get to see our friends again.”

“Oh, don’t worry. We still have a chance of dying so it won’t all be so bad.”

“Way to ruin it, Watney,” you sigh as it reaches its max. “Looks good. I don’t see any seals.”

“Perfect. Besides, maybe it’ll be a good thing you finally said what you needed to say to Beck. God knows it was suffocating just watching you two,” the astronaut adds, walking around the Rover and you shoot him a glare. “It was cute, but just plain annoying.”

“Why do you feel the need to bring this up every single time?” you retort, heading back for the Hab despite Watney’s calls of your name. He walks after you with a little wince to his step and you make a mental note to prepare a hot bath. He had strained his back a few days ago lifting rocks to test how far the Rover could go with all the extra weight and you’ve got nothing for sore muscles beside muscle relaxants and hot packs.

“Because Commander Lewis definitely would’ve moved you two to the same bed if it meant you two would shut up with the flirting. We’re all single on that ship!”

“Watney,” you deadpan, turning to look at your friend as he catches up to you. “You and Johanssen are the only people single on that ship as of this moment. And no, she wouldn’t. Can you imagine how embarrassing that would be?” As if I hadn’t already sneaked into Chris’ quarters more than once because of the excitement of going into space, the fear that we won’t make it back, your head adds but you keep your mouth shut about that.

“Aha! So you admit you’re no longer available!”

“I have never been emotionally available on this mission!” you shoot back, exasperated. “Or ever!”

“See, that’s what you say.”

“Do you want a hot bath or not because I can use up the hot water. Don’t try me.” You really wouldn’t but it’s fun to see the slight panic in Mark’s eyes. “I miss him, yeah, and so what if I have feelings for him?”

“Then, Martinez owes me fifty bucks.”

“You’re literally the worst,” you mutter, grabbing onto the Hab door and twisting it open. “I’ve got to check up on Chris’ experiment. Run your own damn bath.” Mark closes the door behind him and the chamber begins to pressurize.

“Oh, now you’re being mean.”

“Pressure stable.”

Twisting off your helmet, you turn to Mark and shove your glove into his helmet, pushing him back. He stumbles back and you laugh as he fights to find his balance. He tries to grab you to pull you back with him but you walk out of reach, opening the second door and entering the Hab.

“Mean!”

SOL 461

You’re losing your body fat at last ever since they’ve begun to run out of food which means you’re getting colder and colder in the same environment every day. There’s nothing you can do but keep your calories at a minimum level to stay alive as long as possible as you put on your space suit for what you hope is the last time.

“Your beard is gross,” you call out to Mark as you slide on your helmet and he wrinkles his nose at you, writing down 461 on the wall. Turning to you, he is about to exit when he remembers his helmet and you smirk. “Space pirate.”

“We’re space pirates,” he agrees. “Why don’t we explore those waters, Captain?”

You smirk, turn on your arm computer and hone in on Mark’s telemetry signal as a test before nodding.

“Aye aye, Captain.”

SOL 524

“Hey, wake up.” Jolting awake, you glance blearily up Mark’s thin face and you groan, blinking the sleep out of your eyes. “We’ve gotta eat and clean up a bit.” Groaning, you sit up and follow him out of the Rover as your bones clamour inside your suit. You’ve lost almost all the meat off your limbs, your ribs peeking out underneath your skin, and you feel like you could be blown away by a soft breeze.

Inside the inflated structure, you strip down to nothing and turn your back to Watney as he prepares the meals of potatoes and whatever’s left at this rate. Running a wet pad over your bruising skin, your teeth chatter and you try to ignore the fact that the divets in your arms where muscle used to be are starting to look a bit too hollow. You feel empty inside, like you haven’t been full for ages, and as you crouch down to rub down your legs, you wonder how you look.

Pitifully small, probably.

It’s how Watney looks with his hobo beard at least. Blood is gathering underneath his skin, the beginnings of contusions blooming along the notches on his spine and you sigh. There’s only so much their paper-thin skin can do at this rate.

“What’ve we got?” you ask, pulling on a shirt and crouching beside him. He nudges a bowl of wet beans and half a raw potato towards you. “Yum.”

“It’s all we’ve got at this rate,” Mark mumbles quietly. He’s losing it, too. When NASA can’t see them, you see what Mark’s really like. He’s exhausted to the core, and losing more energy every day. You pretend you don’t realize he’s giving you the majority of the food because it’s a survival tactic. Just like how if Hermes crew doesn’t make it, Johanssen is having human meat soup for eight more months after the rations run out because she’s the youngest, smallest, and she’ll know how to get back to Eartha alone. Well, not 100% alone. Her and five other carcasses.

The thought makes your stomach growl.

The thought of anything warm and filling is making it quail in protest, even if it is human flesh.

Well, that’s a bit fucked up.

Then again, you’re removing everything that protects you from space on the MAV once you reach it, so maybe cannibalistic thoughts aren’t so out of reach. It’s not like you’d actually act on them.

Watney’s all skin and bone at this point. Skin that’s beginning to break, bones that are hollowing out, and you’d rather die than eat your friend.

“If you’re thinking about eating me,” he says warily when you’ve gone on too long staring at his plate of potatoes and beans. “Please don’t. Wait until we actually run out of food, yeah?” You chuckle, your lungs wheezing as you bite into the raw potato.

“Aye aye, Captain.”

SOL 561

Turning around, you listen to Mark climb up the MAV. You’re sitting down on the edge of the hole, sliding your leg into a flight spacesuit. Your mind is running over all the possible outcomes for riding a spaceship with essentially no protection and you don’t know how to broach the topic of the effect of G-force on the human body.

“Hey, Watney.”

“Hey.”

“So,” you begin, pushing yourself up and heading for where the top half of your suit is suspended on harnesses. Mark turns to you and you sigh, pausing. His eyes find yours and you’re surprised to see how much trust lay within them. Before, sure, it’d been full of amusement, the mirth of his latest jest potent in his eyes, but now, that blue gaze is muted with respect and you can’t help but mirror that. They did this together and they’re going home together no matter what.

“So,” he mutters with a note of finality. He walks past you to grab the hygiene bag on the bench, unzipping it to uncover a razor and he heads for the mirror as you wring out your hands. 

“When we launch, we might get up to 12 G’s.”

“Yeah?”

Your eyes try not to linger on the dried blood on his shoulder as he switches the razor on. “So, we’re gonna pass out, almost definitely. And we might have internal bleeding, cracked ribs.” The razor buzzes inside your skull as you lower your hands. “Chris is the EVA specialist, but even if he does catch us—”

“You know the point of it all is that they tried, you know?” Mark says. “Because if they do catch us, that means we have another way of saving more astronauts.”

“This was a freak of a mission, Watney,” you reply, adjusting the waist of the suit. You ignore the pallor of your skin and instead, push yourself towards him. Your booted feet are heavier than bricks as he watches you approach in the mirror.

“Well, it was an honour to share it with you, Captain.” His eyes find yours through the reflection and you grin through the glass despite the fatigue weighing you down. You touch his arm tentatively and he sets the razor down before he turns around. “Nice knowing ya, Mrs. Beck,” he teases and you roll your eyes before pulling him into a shaking hug.

Your eyes close tightly and you do your best to ignore the fact that you both smell like shit as his arms wrap around you, too.

“We’ll see if we can make it work first,” you whisper. His arms seem to tighten and you let out a sharp sigh. “I don’t want to get sappy on you until I’m literally staring into the face of death, but this was a once in a lifetime mission, Mark. I’m glad you were here with me.”

“Yeah. Who else would’ve complained as much as you did?” he mocks and you laugh against him, fingers digging into the notches of his spine as you close your eyes for a moment, simply breathing in and out. 

“This could work.”

He pulls back, smiles, and his eyes dart over the redness along the edges of your face, too. The vessels around your eyes run as they try to keep your blood pumping and you can see the same roughness in his cheeks and eyes as he nods. “This could work.” 

Clapping his arm, you leave him to shave to put on the top half of your flight spacesuit.

Only the climb up to the MAV remains.

.

“Hold my hand as soon as you cut,” you say over the comms. Mark might be absolutely delighted by the idea, but as you watch Hermes approach from the distance, you can’t help the feeling of apprehension tightening in your gut. “We let go, we lose each other in space.”

“Yeah. I’m not letting you go at this point,” he says and you smile before he counts down. “Three. Two. One.” As soon as you dig the knife through your suit, you reach for Mark only to be launched back first into the MAV. Your rebroken ribs from the G-force protest in pain and you let out a grunt as you slam against Mark, but your uncut glove flails blindly, fingers trying to snag onto Mark still bouncing around with you. He latches onto one of the chairs and you fling out an arm, hooking elbows with him and clamping your open glove into a fist.

“Mark, report.”

Giving Mark a panicked smile, you just nod as he replies, “On our way, Commander.” 

On cue, the two of you release your fists and are launched into space. Unstable and tumbling, they spiral through space as they try to regain some balance and you wrestle against Mark’s arm pulling you off course as you angle your wrist outward, trying to realign yourself with Lewis. Letting go of Mark’s arm for a moment, you manage to snag onto Lewis, her elbow hooking onto your arm as you’re yanked back and you grunt, whole body snapping back. Mark’s hand digs into your leg but it slips and you glance back, terrified to see him swallowed up by the blackness surrounding them everywhere.

“Mark!” Readjusting yourself, you grab onto the tether as Mark manages to wrap his own hand on the orange rope and you pull with all your might. Black stars burst into your vision as the last of your strength goes and you let out a grunt as Lewis begins to spin them around. Mark whirls around them as she pulls and you simply hold on, your eyes beginning to slip shut. The sound of Mark’s fight echoes in your ears and you’re shackled with that god awful hope that maybe they’re making it out of this alive—

A body slams into you and helmets clink together as Mark joins their little duo. Hands grab onto arms and the orange tether floats around them like silk ribbon as the sound of harsh breathing fills the comms.

“I got ‘em!” Lewis calls out, voice breaking and you smile, tilting your head forward against Lewis’ helmet. “I got ‘em.” Laughing, you grab onto Mark tightly and he glances at you for a moment before the two of you both look at Lewis.

“It’s good to see you,” he pants. “You… have terrible taste in music.”

As the tether tightens and they’re reeled in, you wrap an arm around Mark’s helmet and push yourself against him.

“Good job, Captain,” you cheer and he laughs, barely able to contain himself. A similar lightness fills your chest and you can’t help the stress-free laughs, the release of all that energy in your chest as you tilt your head back and laugh no matter how much it hurts to breathe. You’re pulled into the airlock and you detach first when you catch sight of Chris standing by the tether. Swimming towards him, you outstretch your arms and crash into him, helmets clinking.

“Beck, close the hatch.”

Chris’ arms wrapped around yours, he reaches to press the button as Lewis parks and Watney swims past to the other end of the airlock.

“Hey, guys.”

You haven’t seen your friends in more than a year, but right now, you’re only focused on one face. “Chris,” you whisper and his smile is everything in your universe as he touches your helmet, like he’s not quite sure you’re real.

“Houston,” Lewis’ breathless voice echoes in your ears as he pulls you in tightly for a hug. Your helmets scrape but you don’t care, simply melting into the arms of your best friend. “Seven crew safely aboard.”

The other end of the airlock hisses open and you detach yourself from Chris’ arms to see the other three swim in and you laugh, turning to your best friend with a huge smile. He holds you still, twisting off his gloves and helping you take off your helmet as you take off your own gloves and your cheeks are aching as your flesh touches cold glass. Until you can feel him, you won’t know it’s real.

And then his hands are on yours, and you know.

“Chris,” you repeat again, the name so familiar on your tongue you don’t know how you’ve gone a day without saying it. He reaches to take off his own helmet and wrinkles his nose when he first gets a whiff of you but you don’t care. You don’t care about impressions or smells or appearances anymore.

You just want him.

Flinging your arms around his neck, you tear off his stupid cap and run your fingers through his hair. It’s dry but downey between your fingers that have touched nothing but metal and plastic for more than a year and you cry. You bury your face into his neck and cry out his name as he simply squeezes you tight against him.

“I love you,” he chokes out and you pull back, cheeks brushing against yours as you smile. His small smile curls his lip and you brush the tear away from his face.

“I love you, too.”

“I love you, guys,” Mark cries out, barging into their conversation with a faux whimper and the newly reunited best friends part with a yelp as their whole crew wraps them in a huge hug.

Surrounded by so many bodies, you have never felt so warm and loved. When you meet Chris’ gaze, you feel the hole inside you begin to fill again.

DAY 1

“How’re you feeling?”

The soft mumble against your ear makes you blink away from the screen revealing the info dumps coming through, and you turn to look at Chris, eyes studiously on yours. That same soft smile is ever present on his lips as you shrug with a wince, and his eyes flit to your vitals. 

The med bay is empty except for Watney sleeping the drugs off and you place your hand gently on Chris’. His hand twists, fingers weaving with yours and you smile, easing into your pillows.

“Did you sleep here all night?” you ask quietly, raising an eyebrow and he shrugs, leaning onto your bed by the elbows and pressing your hand against his cheek.

The reunion was short-lived after their return. After all, there were injuries that needed to be assessed, malnutrition that needed to be addressed, a whole hygiene regime that needed to be followed, and a lot of sleep to catch up on.

“Maybe,” he whispers and you laugh, shaking your head free and patting his cheek. “I don’t want you out of my sight. I close my eyes and all I can imagine is losing you again.” Lips twitching into a frown, your eyebrows knit together at his kicked expression. You wonder if he can still read your message by memory as you know it by heart. “You scared the shit out of me, Y/N.”

“‘M sorry, Chris,” you murmur and he sighs, closing his eyes with a flutter of his eyelashes. Tears burn down his cheeks as he presses his lips together. “I’m sorry I waited so long to tell you.”

“It’s not your fault,” he replies. You scoot to the side of your bed despite your ribs yawning in pain and pat the small space beside you. “You need to rest, Y/N. Get back to sleep and I’ll hit you with a dose of the good stuff when you wake up,” he bargains but you still shake your head.

“I don’t need the good stuff,” you say. “I just need you.” His eyes widen just so and your smile grows as the warmth inside you spreads to your fingers. Moving your I.V. lines, you make sure the space is clear for him. “C’mon. Get up here.” He tilts his head, debating it in that brain of his before he gets off his chair, climbing carefully into the small bed. He slides an arm around your shoulders, settling onto his side and you sigh, shimmying closer once he settles. His heat wraps around you, his other arm draping across your chest. His nose nuzzles into your cheek and his breath puffs against your neck as you close your eyes.

Home. Finally home.

“Y/N?” you hear his mumble and you turn your face blindly towards him. He smells like antibiotic cream and sweat, and you barely open your eyes as he looks up at you, blue eyes filled with a tenderness that tells you you’re safe now. “I love you.”

“Yeah?” you whisper, and he smiles.

“Yeah.”

“Good. ‘Cause I love you, too.”

And he tilts his chin just so to kiss you. 

[365days365movies]

May 6, 2021: The Martian (2015) (Recap: Part One)

We’re leaving lo-fi sci-fi, people. Kind of.

I mentioned before that films like Her are what I define as “lo-fi sci-fi”, which is a category that I’ve kind of made up. Basically, it’s the science fiction version of low fantasy, meaning it contains science fiction themes contained within an otherwise contemporary setting. In the case of Her, Joaquin Phoenix’s character, along with many others, live in a world and setting basically like ours, but with technology advanced enough to generate AIs (like Siri) that are intelligent enough to actually ascend our reality. Because we live in a society.

You give me Joaquin Phoenix, I’m gonna make a Joker reference; it’s in the contract of my existence. Anyway, that is admittedly kind of broad, right? I mean, that has the capability of crossing over with a BUNCH of sci-fi genres and themes. And, considering that we’ve already seen magic, speculative technology, time travel, monsters, and artificial intelligence, we’ve already touched on quite a bit.

And with science fiction, the sky’s the limit. Literally. So, I think it behooves us to re-examine lo-fi sci-fi a little bit. Specifically, we should note that it can also be defined as an extension of currently existing technologies and possibilities. Writers would call this “speculative sci-fi”, assuming in this case that it’s set within the present or a near and attainable future. Her definitely fits in this category, as does Westworld. But, let’s crossover to another genre by speculating upon another possibility. And it begins with this man. Probably.

Hey, Elon, what’s up? Now, Mr. Musk here is a...controversial figure, for COMPLETELY understandable reasons. Instead of touch upon the man himself, I feel like touching upon one of his recent focuses: space travel. With SpaceX and the various upcoming space trips and journeys that they’re planning, Musk has made it clear that he plans to shoot to the Moon. Again, literally.

In fact, this full plan is to go even further than that, and to fuel potential commercial space flights in the future, which is admittedly very cool. And of course, if you’re going to shoot for the Moon...

Guys...guys, that’s Mars. THAT’S FUCKING MARS

Is that not amazing? We have sound and pictures from FUCKING MARS! THAT’S A DIFFERENT PLANET, GODDAMN IT! It’s cooler than I have the ability to properly express, but it IS goddamn cool. And this means that, easily within my lifetime, we could (and likely will) land on Mars. Which is amazing. God, I really want to see that happen.

And so, landing on Mars is BARELY science fiction, but since we haven’t yet done so...yeah, it’s fictional at the moment. And so, any film about landing on Mars falls within this category. Well...to an extent.

2000′s Mission to Mars, for example, was a Disney-funded film (to my IMMENSE surprise; and it’s based off of an old Disney World ride, WHAT), and a movie that I saw a LOT when I was a kid. I also barely remember it, to be honest. But that film is straight-up science fiction because of, well...aliens. The idea of Martians is, as far as we know it, fictional. And most fiction involving Mars includes these aliens somehow. Whether it’s DC Comics’ entire civilization of Martians, as seen in Justice League, Supergirl, or Young Justice...

...Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s heavily mythologized civilization, as seen in the Barsoom series of novels (and another Disney film)...

...Or one of the best Looney Tunes characters.

Mmm. Yes. Isn’t that lovely?

But, yeah, Mars and aliens go hand-in-hand in our media. So, to properly look at lo-fi science and speculative science fiction in relation to the Red Planet, we’ll need a movie that goes to the planet, and doesn’t touch upon the concept of aliens AT ALL.

Enter...Ridley Scott?

Yeah, the director of Legend, Alien, Thelma and Louise, Blade Runner, Gladiator. Also the director of Kingdom of Heaven, Prometheus, Exodus: Gods and Kings, and...ugh, 1492: Conquest of Paradise. I’ve talked about his mixed record before, in my Recap of Legend right here.

In 2014, he was brought on to adapt a book by Andy Weir called The Martian, which is a great book! I’ve listened to the audio book, and I whole-heartedly recommend doing that. And because of that, I am VERY MUCH looking forward to watching this film, especially seeing as it’s often called one of the best science fiction films made during that year, and was critically acclaimed then and now. It got seven Oscar nominations (although it won none of them), amongst other awards. So, enough navel-gazing, huh? The Martian!

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

On Acidalia Plantitia, at the landing site of the Ares III mission, a group of scientists are gathering samples. These scientists are commander and geologist Melissa Lewis (Jessica Chastain), pilot Rick Martinez (Michael Pena), systems operator Beth Johanssen (Kate Mara), surgeon Chris Beck (Sebastian Stan), German chemist Alex Vogel (Aksel Hennie), and overly talkative botanist Mark Watney (Matt Damon). 

The group seems to have a good dynamic, but that dynamic is interrupted by a massive dust storm, which is large enough to cause the entire crew to evacuate. However, in the chaos of the dust storm, Mark is hit by debris and lost in the shuffle. Although Lewis goes back to find him, she can’t get to him before they need to leave, and Mark is believed dead. This is reported (pretty callously) by NASA Director Teddy Sanders (Jeff Daniels) to the press soon afterwards.

But of course, that wouldn’t be much of a movie, now would it? Mark’s alive! And Mark’s alone. With his suit damaged, and low on oxygen, he trudges back to headquarters, which is intact and still contains breathable oxygen. He gets inside, and realizes that he’s been stabbed in the abdomen by some debris. He removes it, and stitches up his own wound. Which is...god, it’s fucking BRUTAL just to think about, nevertheless watch.

Once he’s finished, he records a log for the future, if he doesn’t make it. It’s day 19 of the 31-day mission at this point, and Mark’s basically screwed. He needs lasting oxygen, water, and food, and he might need that for 4 years, when the next manned mission can come to the red planet. Additionally, he has absolutely no way to contact NASA, leaving him completely stranded. Another dust storm rolls in that night, and Mark looks over the belongings of his colleagues, packing them up for their eventual return. It’s somber, to say the least. However, Mark affirms that he’s determined not to die on the planet.

After doing the math, Mark should have enough food to last him for about 300 days, especially if he rations it. Until then, he’ll need to figure out how to grow his own food, on a planet where nothing grows. Which is, of course, going to be a difficult feat to accomplish. But Mark Watney’s a botanist with botany powers, and he’s gonna do it.

It’s day 31, and Mark’s brought in dirt from the outside, and uses the bio-waste from the crew’s stay there for a form of compost. After 5 days, mostly full of him watching Happy Days on TV and trying to farm, he realizes that he needs water, both for himself and for the soil. To do that, he goes chemical and decides to use hydrogen-laden rocket fuel, wood from Martinez’s belongings, and good old-fashioned fire to make water! And since hydrogen + oxygen = water, it should work. With a minor side-effect.

So, yeah, he blew himself up. As as he records a video log, the sound mixing makes itself impressively known by subtly and realistically generating a tinnitus sound. It’s VERY well-done, holy shit. Anyway, he makes a stable fire, and the place is soon covered in condensation, moistening the room and the soil successfully.

We get to day 54, and Mark’s planted leftover potatoes from the crew in order to grow them. And while he’s being mourned at a funeral on Earth, and in NASA, he’s seeing the fruits (or shoots) of his efforts.

Back on Earth, Mars Mission Director Vincent Kapoor (Chiwetel Ejiofor) is trying to convince Director Teddy to let him lobby for another Ares mission, despite the risk of bad press for the callousness of the proximity to Watney’s death. Meanwhile, satellite technician Mindy Park (Mackenzie Davis) looks down at the Ares III site, and realizes that the site has changed visually, meaning that Mark may actually be alive.

Shocked by this, she tells Kapoor, Teddy, and media director Annie Montrose (Kristen Wiig) about this, and they realize the absolute clusterfuck that this whole thing is. They can’t tell the other members of the Ares III crew about it, because it’d devastate them for the 10 months they have to get back to Earth, at the VERY least. They can’t tell the WORLD about this, because they just had a funeral for the guy, and they’d reveal that they left him stranded on Mars accidentally, destroying faith in the Mars Missions Program. And they can’t save Mark, who they’re sure will starve eventually. It’s a mess. And Kapoor also wonders what’s happening to Mark psychologically through all of this.

And yet, they reveal this to the world regardless, causing the clusterfuck reaction that they think it’s going to cause. But Mark’s busy on Mars, figuring out how to get to the site of the next Ares IV mission in 4 years, at the Schiaparelli crater about 50 days travel away. This is a struggle, as his Rover has only so much power and fuel, and he can only get more power by cutting out the heater is risking death by freezing. So, problems. However, he figures out a potential solution: radioactive isotopes! In a move that is, let’s face it, COMPLETELY INSANE, he digs up a radioactive generator from the ship in order to heat the ship.

On Earth, they try to figure out Mark’s moves, as well as how to resupply Ares IV sooner for Mark’s benefit. This is with the director of JPL, Bruce Ng (Benedict Wong), and the flight director of the ship Hermes, Mitch Henderson (Sean Bean), who insists that they tell the Ares II crew. They continue to monitor Mark, and note that he’s been travelling for 17 days in his Rover towards something. Kapoor figures it out, and flies to California.

See, Mark needs a way to contact NASA, and he believes that the way to do so is through Pathfinder, the first probe ever sent to Mars in 1997, lasting for 9 months since landing until they lost contact. Mark digs it up, and the people at JPL in California start their own efforts for contact. And despite communication being extremely rudimentary, initially limited to yes/no questions that use a still-frame camera, it fucking WORKS! WHOO!

To boost this communication hurdle, the two camps figure out a hexadecimal system for communication, allowing them to communicate using a circular table of numbers that represent an alphabet. That allows them to teach Mark to hack into the Rover, allowing it to piggyback off of its broadcast signal and send them messages via keyboard. Nice! Now that communication is reasonably possible, Mark’s able to ask how the crew is handling his death. But upon learning that they haven’t told him. He’s understandably a little goddamn enraged. And so, they FINALLY tell the Ares III crew about this.

The news breaks the crew, even though Mark continues to stress that he’s all right, and that it wasn’t their fault. Meanwhile, Mark’s able to survive for 912 days with his potato plants, and things improve with the help of technicians on Earth. They plan to launch a supply rocket to him in the next year, and things are looking fine! Unless, of course...something goes horribly HORRIBLY wrong.

Well...fuck. Good place to pause for Part Two, then?

[fairyjeff]

JEFF MULLOY: CHARACTER FACTS

BASICS

Full name: Jeffrey Daniel Mulloy

Age: 32

Face Claim: Chris Hemsworth

Birthdate: December 24, 1987

Height: 6′3′’ (157cm)

Weight: 200lbs (91kg ?)

Species: Gancanagh (Fae)

Sexual orientation: Heterosexual Heteroromantic

Gender identity: Cisgender Male

Education Level: High School 

Occupation: Bartender

Hometown: Boston, Massachusetts

Hair color: Dark/Dirty Blonde

Eye color: Blue

Languages: English

Bio: [ x ]

Moodboards: I HAVENT MADE ANY YET

Pets: Lettie (Mastiff) 

PERSONALITY

Moral Alignment: Neutral Good

MB Type: ESFP

Element: Water

Sign: Capricorn

Hogwarts House: Gryffindor

Positive Traits: caring, loyal, honest, relaxed, patient, 

Negative Traits: bitter, pessimistic, defensive, lonely, jaded, solitary, hot-headed

Pet Peeves/Things that upset or bother her: People who don’t tip their bartender/waitress, creepy people, people 

RELATIONSHIPS

Mother: Annalise “Lisa” Mulloy

Father: Patrick Gilligan 

Siblings: None

Birth Order: Only

Significant Relationships (romantic): lol

Significant Relationships (other): Deirdre Dolan (????), Nell Vural (Dog Sitter), Morgan Beck (Friend?), 

OTHER STUFF

Religion: Atheist.

Political Party: Liberal

Piercings: None

Tattoos: None, yet.

Physique: [ x - shirtless man photo ] Big. Muscular. 

Typical Attire: Jeff is a plain kinda guy. Likes jeans, button downs, t-shirts, and switches off between a good pair of boots and vans.

Accent: South Boston

Scent: Jeff usually has some sort of woodsy cologne on, though his pheromones, if they work on the specific person, probably make him smell whatever is desirable to that person.

Hobbies: Working out, video games, spending time with his dog, hiking, 

Phobias: Being alone for the rest of his ridiculously long life, all of his friends and family dying before him because of his ridiculously long life

Psychiatric Disorders: Depression

Learning Disorders: Is there a fae version of ADD? Because that. 

Physical/Genetic Disorders: None

[eurynome827]

The Red Dress: Part Two

Pairing: Chris Beck x Reader

Warnings: couple of swear words, acting like awkward teenagers, cavity-inducing fluff

A/N: find The Red Dress on my masterlist for the first part! (Link in bio) So I know I teased a smutty part two but please don't be mad at me. Thank you once again to @cchellacat for your reassurance. Seriously, don't know what I'd do without you.

*

With all of his bravado with the "your place or mine" statement gone, you sat next to Chris in the back seat of an Uber headed to your house, and both of you were terrified.

It was like being driven home by your Dad after the middle school dance.

The car was silent.

This was a terrible, terrible mistake.

When the car pulled up to the curb in front of your house, you turned to Chris, fully expecting him to stay in the car and ask to be taken to his own house, so the two of you could return to a horribly awkward workplace on Monday. Instead, to your surprise, he scrambled out of the car and around to your side, opening your door and holding out his hand for you to take.

Your heart fluttered.

You tucked your hand in the crook of his arm and walked up to your front door.

The Uber pulled away.

Digging through your bag nervously for your keys, you paused your shaking hands and looked up at him.

"Look, I'm clearly terrible at this and my champagne courage is wearing off." His little grin was adorable, UGH KEEP IT TOGETHER. "I want you to come in, obviously, but let's take the pressure off. Let's just talk."

Oh, he looked so relieved. "That sounds perfect."

You unlocked the door, and he followed you inside.

"Make yourself comfortable," you invited him, as you tried to settle yourself on your couch without wrinkling your dress too much.

Chris took off his suit jacket, and started to unbutton his waistcoat. Your heartbeat started to stutter. If you were a functioning adult, you would have been able to carry through with your attempted seduction. YOU would be the one unbuttoning him as he tried to slide you out of your dress. Instead you awkwardly reached down to unbuckle your heels and drew your feet up next to you on the couch.

Once Chris draped his suit jacket and waistcoat over the back of a chair, he sat on the opposite end of the couch.

You giggled.

He glanced over at you with his shy smile. "What?"

"Your white shirt, with the bow tie. You look like a cater waiter."

As you both laughed (thank goodness) you scooted over closer to him. You reached over with one hand to pull the end of the bow tie, hoping it wasn't a clip on. You weren't disappointed. You glanced up at his eyes watching you, and pulled the tie open.

"There," you brought your other hand up to use both to unbutton the top couple of buttons on his crisp white shirt, hoping you weren't shaking too much. You were such a mess. "Now you look comfortable enough to stay awhile."

The energy in the room had shifted again to resemble the heated moment between the two of you at the event. This time instead of surrending to it, you dropped your head and looked up at him, feeling bashful. You started to shift back to your side of the couch, but Chris put his hand on your shoulder and you stopped. Your mind went to that subtle, teasing touch down your back and you couldn't help your breath speeding up.

Biology. Just biology.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips and your eyes were immediately drawn to the movement. You whimpered. It was a small involuntary sound but there was no mistaking it. His hand reached up to cup your jaw. This was it. No turning back now. Your eyes drifted closed and you felt his body shift closer to you on the couch and then there he was, that gorgeous mouth pressing to yours and fireworks were going off in your heart. You were so far gone for this man, it was laughable.

One kiss became two, then three, and then you couldn't stop yourself from parting your lips a little and drawing his plump lower lip into your mouth. With a little growl that made you squeal in the back of your throat he grasped at your waist and pulled you into his lap. Your long dress impeded your legs and instead of straddling him (which your body desperately wanted) you found yourself with your legs together, knees drawn up between his chest and yours, half on and half off his lap. You were unwilling to break the kiss now that you felt his tongue sliding across your own, so you struggled to get closer with him until you couldn't take it anymore.

"GodDAMN IT!" You shouted in annoyance, causing Chris to laugh in surprise as you shook out the long dress and stood on wobbly legs in front of him. "This goddamn dress!"

"Don't be mad at the dress." Chris reached his hands out and pulled you back towards him, resting on your hips, making you forget your aggravation. "I would still be trying to stay professional if it weren't for this dress."

You bit your lip. "Well, that was sort of my plan."

His hands pulled you a little closer. "You look so gorgeous tonight." You knew you were blushing, and he was a little bit too. "And I just thought..... Fuck it."

Pausing to collect your thoughts, you took a breath and reached your hands down to begin gathering up the fabric of the skirt till it was a manageable length, revealing your legs to your mid-thigh, and then finally straddled his lap like you wanted.

"Hi."

His hands went back to their slow dance down your back. "Hi."

You leaned your forehead against his and then turned your head to kiss him again.

"I want to take you out to dinner."

Puzzled, you leaned back. "Right now?"

"No! No, not right now. I mean," he dragged a hand through his hair. "I want to keep kissing you right now, but I want to take things slow. I want to take you out on a proper date before we do anything else. You deserve that."

Somehow you had transitioned a potential hookup into a potential relationship.

"Fine, Beck, take me to dinner tomorrow. I'll call you an Uber and you can be a gentleman if that's what you want. But you better make out with me till it gets here."

Chris pulled you closer and proceeded to kiss the sass out of your mouth.

The red dress had far exceeded expectations. A successful experiment.

*

Tags @cchellacat @book-dragon-13 @buckmesideways22 @loricameback @spacemansam @randomfandompenguin @thesaltyduchess @sebbystanlover-vk @kcd15 @southerncross47 @marvelousmeggi

[writingfortoomanyfandoms]

FAQ

Hi guys! This is just so that you don’t have to send in asks for everything when you want to know something about my blog!!

Do you take requests?

I do! My blurb requests are pretty much always open but my fic requests are open a lot less of the time, but the info for that will be in my bio :) also for requests I’ll only write them if they’re specific and not just like “Write some fluff please” because I have little imagination whoooo

Do you do tag lists?

The only tag lists I do are for individual series, I don’t do general ones for characters/actors as a whole and I also only accept tag requests in my inbox and if someone does not respond to loads of chapters of my fic then I will remove them bc upholding tag lists is hella hard work

What’s a tag list?

It’s a way of letting certain followers know that I’ve posted the next part of a series that I write 

Whats your name/age/sexuality/pronouns/nationality?

I’m Courtney, I’m 17, I’m not straight and I’m still trying to work out what exactly I am, my pronouns are she/her and I am English!

Can I tag you in my writing?

Of course you can! Please, please tag me I love reading what you guys have written and I don’t read anywhere near enough as I used to

Why don’t you respond to work?

I do respond! However because this blog ( @writingfortoomanyfandoms ) is a side blog, I have to respond with my main ( @ijustreallylovezebras ) so that’s why that blog is constantly replying haha

Do you write smut?

I don’t! I’m sorry! If you request smut I will not write it, though if it’s embedded in part of a request then I will still do the request I will just not include smut :)

What does your tracked tag mean?

My tracked tag is usercourt and it basically means that whenever someone posts something under that tag I see it! I made it so that you can tag me in your work without tagging my blog directly bc I often don’t see it when that happens so by using a tracked tag I’m somewhat more likely to see your work (whether it be fics, art, playlists, moodboards or whatever) and that way I can reblog it onto my blog and try and get more recognition for your work if that makes sense! So please always feel free to tag your work with usercourt so that I can see it :)

Who do you write for?

Ben Hardy

Joe Mazzello

Gwilym Lee

Rami Malek

(BoRhap!)Roger Taylor

(BoRhap!)John Deacon

(BoRhap!)Brian May

Warren Worthington (X-Men Apocalypse)

Four (6 Underground)

Peter Beale (East Enders)

Pat Murray (Undrafted)

Eugene Sledge (The Pacific)

Gardner Langway (Dear Sidewalk)

Charlie Nelson (Midsomer Murders)

The Umbrella Academy Hargreeves Children

Richard Madden

Robb Stark (Game of Thrones)

Prince Kit (Cinderella 2015)

David Budd (Bodyguard)

Leo West (Ibiza)

Joseph Blake (1917)

Taron Egerton 

Eggsy Unwin (Kingsmen)

Robin Hood (Robin Hood)

Rocketman!Bernie Taupin

Rocketman!Ray Williams

Shayne Topp (Smosh)

Damien Haas (Smosh)

Courtney Miller (Smosh)

Jake Gyllenhaal

Detective Loki (Prisoners)

Jamie Randall (Love and Other Drugs)

Louis Bloom (Nightcrawler)

Donnie Darko (Donnie Darko)

Dr David Jordan (Life)

Robert Graysmith (Zodiac)

Adam Bell (Enemy)

Anthony Claire (Enemy)

Colter Stevens (Source Code)

Edward Sheffield (Nocturnal Animals)

Tony Hastings (Nocturnal Animals)

Morf Vandewalt (Velvet Buzzsaw)

Davis Mitchell (Demolition)

Billy ‘The Great’ Hope (Southpaw)

Tommy Cahill (Brothers)

Chris Evans

Frank Adler (Gifted)

Ari Levinson (Red Sea Diving Resort)

Ashton Irwin (5 Seconds of Summer)

Calum Hood (5 Seconds of Summer)

Luke Hemmings (5 Seconds of Summer)

Michael Clifford (5 Seconds of Summer)

Billy Hargrove (Stranger Things)

Steve Harrington (Stranger Things)

Robin Buckley (Stranger Things)

Dacre Montgomery

Joe Keery

Maya Hawke

Zach Dempsey (13 Reasons Why)

Justin Foley (13 Reasons Why)

Clay Jensen (13 Reasons Why)

Alex Standall (13 Reasons Why)

Sebastian Stan

Chris Beck (The Martian)

Jefferson (Once Upon A Time)

Carter Baizen (Gossip Girl)

Harry Styles

Niall Horan

Louis Tomlinson

Peter Pevensie (The Chronicles of Narnia)

Edmund Pevensie (The Chronicles of Narnia)

Prince Caspian (The Chronicles of Narnia)

Otis Milburn (Sex Education)

Maeve Wiley (Sex Education)

Jackson Marchetti (Sex Education)

Sean Wiley (Sex Education)

Asa Butterfield

Emma Mackey

Alex Gaskarth (All Time Low)

Jack Barakat (All Time Low)

Zack Merrick (All Time Low)

Rian Dawson (All Time Low)

Harry Potter (Harry Potter)

Hermione Granger (Harry Potter)

Fred Weasley (Harry Potter)

George Weasley (Harry Potter)

Charlie Weasley (Harry Potter) 

Oliver Wood (Harry Potter)

Draco Malfoy (Harry Potter)

Young!Remus Lupin (Harry Potter)

Young!Sirius Black (Harry Potter)

Young!James Potter (Harry Potter) 

Newt Scamander (Harry Potter)

[grimmusings]

♢ canon muses ♢

Sideblogs are linked below. Each has a pinned introduction with general information about how I write the muse, wanted connections, and verses.

♢ comics ♢ ♢ Benjamin Poindexter ⭒ Daredevil ⭒ Wilson Bethel ♢ Brock Rumlow ⭒ Marvel/MCU ⭒ Frank Grillo ♢ Bucky Barnes ⭒ Marvel/MCU ⭒ Sebastian Stan ♢ Clint Barton ⭒ Marvel ⭒ Bradley James ♢ Elektra Natchios ⭒ Daredevil ⭒ Élodie Yung ♢ Ellie Rogers ⭒ Marvel ⭒ Kat McNamara ♢ Frank Castle ⭒ Daredevil ⭒ Jon Bernthal ♢ Gwen Stacy ⭒ Marvel ⭒ Emily Browning ♢ James Rhodes ⭒ Marvel ⭒ Charles Michael Davis ♢ John Constantine ⭒ DC/Vertigo ⭒ Matt Ryan ♢ Johnny Storm ⭒ Fantastic Four ⭒ Chris Evans ♢ Karolina Dean ⭒ Marvel ⭒ Madison Iseman ♢ Mia Smoak ⭒ Arrowverse ⭒ Kat McNamara ♢ Nancy Callahan ⭒ Sin City ⭒ Jessica Alba ♢ Natasha Romanoff ⭒ Marvel/MCU ⭒ Scarlett Johansson ♢ Red ⭒ The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys ⭒ Levy Tran ♢ Steve Rogers ⭒ Marvel/MCU ⭒ Chris Evans ♢ Thor Odinson ⭒ MCU ⭒ Chris Hemsworth ♢ Torunn Thorsdóttir ⭒ Marvel ⭒ Margot Robbie

♢ disney/dreamworks/etc. ♢ ♢ Barrel ⭒ Nightmare Before Christmas ⭒ Drew Ray Tanner ♢ Captain Hook ⭒ Peter Pan ⭒ Colin Farrell ♢ Cowardly Lion ⭒ The Wizard of Oz ⭒ Paul Rudd ♢ Dorothy Gale ⭒ Return to Oz ⭒ Emily Browning ♢ Jack Frost ⭒ Rise of the Guardians ⭒ Bradley James ♢ Jack Skellington ⭒ Nightmare Before Christmas ⭒ Milo Ventimiglia ♢ Lock ⭒ Nightmare Before Christmas ⭒ Matthew Daddario ♢ Mad Hatter ⭒ Alice in Wonderland ⭒ Jackson Rathbone ♢ Mallymkun ⭒ Alice in Wonderland ⭒ Ashley Greene ♢ Prince Cornelius ⭒ Thumbelina ⭒ Max Irons

♢ mythology/folklore ♢ ♢ Hades ⭒ Greek Mythology ⭒ Chris Evans ♢ Hercules ⭒ Greek Mythology ⭒ Kellan Lutz ♢ Lancelot ⭒ Arthuriana ⭒ Chris Hemsworth ♢ Mordred ⭒ Arthuriana ⭒ Ian Somerhalder ♢ Will Scarlet ⭒ Robin Hood ⭒ Sebastian Stan

♢ film ♢ ♢ David Powers ⭒ The Lost Boys ⭒ Dacre Montgomery ♢ Frank Adler ⭒ Gifted ⭒ Chris Evans ♢ Jennifer Check ⭒ Jennifer's Body ⭒ Megan Fox ♢ Jerry Dandridge ⭒ Fright Night ⭒ Colin Farrell ♢ Laurie Strode ⭒ Halloween ⭒ Lili Reinhart ♢ Lawrence Talbot ⭒ The Wolf Man ⭒ Rahul Kohli ♢ Leo Barnes ⭒ The Purge ⭒ Frank Grillo ♢ Victor Frankenstein ⭒ Frankenstein ⭒ Bill Skarsgård

♢ tv shows ♢ ♢ Alvey Kulina ⭒ Kingdom ⭒ Frank Grillo ♢ Andy Barber ⭒ Defending Jacob ⭒ Chris Evans ♢ Betty Cooper ⭒ Riverdale ⭒ Lili Reinhart ♢ Billy Hargrove ⭒ Stranger Things ⭒ Dacre Montgomery ♢ Carter Baizen ⭒ Gossip Girl ⭒ Sebastian Stan ♢ Castiel ⭒ Supernatural ⭒ Misha Collins ♢ Damien Thorn ⭒ Damien ⭒ Bradley James ♢ Daryl Dixon ⭒ The Walking Dead ⭒ Norman Reedus ♢ Dean Winchester ⭒ Supernatural ⭒ Jensen Ackles ♢ Hannibal Lecter ⭒ Hannibal ⭒ Mads Mikkelsen ♢ Nate Archibald ⭒ Gossip Girl ⭒ Chace Crawford ♢ Paul 'Jesus' Rovia ⭒ The Walking Dead ⭒ Tom Payne

♢ books ♢ ♢ Cassian ⭒ ACOTAR ⭒ Can Yaman ♢ Ginny Weasley ⭒ Harry Potter ⭒ Kat McNamara ♢ Hermione Granger ⭒ Harry Potter ⭒ Ashley Moore ♢ Remus Lupin ⭒ Harry Potter ⭒ Rahul Kohli ♢ Ronan Lynch ⭒ The Raven Cycle ⭒ Dacre Montgomery ♢ Sirius Black ⭒ Harry Potter ⭒ Rob Raco

♢ test muses ♢

Test and minor muses are written from the main, at least until they demand their own blogs, although some of them will probably always be super niche and just stay here. Bio and verse information is linked if available.

♢ Ben Hanscom ⭒ IT ⭒ Jay Ryan ♢ Bill Bevilaqua ⭒ Tulsa King ⭒ Frank Grillo ♢ Bill Weasley ⭒ Harry Potter ⭒ Michael Fassbender ♢ Camille L'Espanaye ⭒ The Fall of the House of Usher ⭒ Kate Siegel ♢ Chris Beck ⭒ The Martian ⭒ Sebastian Stan ♢ Colin Shea ⭒ What's Your Number? ⭒ Chris Evans ♢ Danika Fendyr ⭒ Crescent City ⭒ Florence Pugh ♢ Dean Redding ⭒ The Naturals ⭒ Cooper van Grootel ♢ Doyle ⭒ Merry Gentry ⭒ Idris Elba ♢ Dwayne Hicks ⭒ Aliens ⭒ Jensen Ackles ♢ Edward Forrester ⭒ Anita Blake ⭒ Alexander Skarsgård ♢ Fangs Fogarty ⭒ Riverdale ⭒ Drew Ray Tanner ♢ Feyre Archeron ⭒ ACOTAR ⭒ Riley Voelkel ♢ Gabryjel Janek ⭒ Prometheus ⭒ Idris Elba ♢ Grey Hollow ⭒ House of Hollow ⭒ Taylor Swift ♢ Hector ⭒ Greek Mythology ⭒ Joe Manganiello ♢ Henry Devlin ⭒ Dreamcatcher ⭒ Michiel Huisman ♢ Ian Rogers ⭒ Marvel ⭒ Tom Hardy ♢ Jason Schuyler ⭒ Anita Blake ⭒ Chace Crawford ♢ Jay Kulina ⭒ Kingdom ⭒ Jonathan Tucker ♢ Jedidiah Sawyer ⭒ Texas Chainsaw Massacre ⭒ Leatherface ♢ Jet Black ⭒ Marvel ⭒ Phoebe Tonkin ♢ Levi Stewart ⭒ Fangirl ⭒ Luke Benward ♢ Lidia Cervos ⭒ Crescent City ⭒ Margot Robbie ♢ Madeline Usher ⭒ The Fall of the House of Usher ⭒ Willa Fitzgerald ♢ Matthew Brown ⭒ Hannibal ⭒ Jonathan Tucker ♢ Mitch Keller ⭒ Tulsa King ⭒ Garrett Hedlund ♢ Newt Scamander ⭒ Fantastic Beasts ⭒ Eddie Redmayne ♢ Nick Gant ⭒ Push ⭒ Chris Evans ♢ Oliver Wood ⭒ Harry Potter ⭒ Max Irons ♢ Pepper Potts ⭒ Marvel ⭒ Gemma Chan ♢ Rebecca 'Newt' Jorden ⭒ Aliens ⭒ Taylor Russell ♢ Richard Zeeman ⭒ Anita Blake ⭒ Joe Manganiello ♢ Roy Pulver ⭒ Boss Level ⭒ Frank Grillo ♢ Ruhn Danaan ⭒ Crescent City ⭒ Ian Somerhalder ♢ Sam Wilson ⭒ Marvel/MCU ⭒ Anthony Mackie ♢ Sandman ⭒ Folklore ⭒ Matthew Daddario ♢ Sholto ⭒ Merry Gentry ⭒ Alexander Skarsgård ♢ Tom Hanniger ⭒ My Bloody Valentine ⭒ Jensen Ackles ♢ Toni Topaz ⭒ Riverdale ⭒ Vanessa Morgan ♢ Walter One ⭒ Alien: Covenant ⭒ Michael Fassbender

[collectingrafaelcasal]

Power: Notes from Session 2 of TED2019

Power drives everything. Whether it’s political, economic, online — power makes the rules and makes things move. At Session 2 of TED2019, we explore how different centers of global power are dramatically playing out across the world stage.

The event: Talks and performances from TED2019, Session 2: Power, hosted by TED’s Chris Anderson and Whitney Pennington Rodgers

When and where: Tuesday, April 16, 2019, 8:45am, at the Vancouver Convention Centre in Vancouver, BC.

Speakers: Rafael Casal, Jack Dorsey, Adena Friedman, Peter Beck and Julius Maada Bio

The talks in brief:

Rafael Casal, poet, filmmaker, actor (you know him from Blindspotting), activist, incorrigible Tweeter

Big idea: Online protest travels fast. Justice can be delivered quickly — but the argument can also quickly devolve into a loud, angry mess. How do we mix activism and nuanced debate?

How? Rafael Casal tells the cautionary tale of a 2016 Twitter firestorm he helped spark. The hashtag he started — #MakeRoomForOak, a campaign for the actor Oak Onaudowan, who was asked to step down as the lead of a new Broadway show — blew up, kicking off a debate about representation and diversity in the arts. But within a week, the hashtag turned into an ugly shouting match, coopted by misinformation, threats and abuse. This, says Casal, is part of a massive cultural shift in what activism looks like. We’re still on the social media learning curve, and, sure, the nuance gets lost sometimes. But these debates are bringing long-unheard issues to center stage — and making impact. It’s on us to keep failing loud, teaching others to succeed and steadily arriving at justice.

Quote of the talk: “Our messy moments online are not just a mess, but evidence of work being done to protest the injustices that are long overdue for some volume.”

[the-ss-horniest-book-club]

HBC Schedule Week of 4-15-19

Hi beauties...

Author Spotlight tomorrow finishes out this sassy week, and then we see what next week has in store:

Monday 4-15-19: Magic Man Monday - a day for Chase and Jefferson. Let’s make magic all day (and night).

Thursday 4-18-19: ChrisAPalooza - Chris Beck and Destroyer Chris. They couldn’t be more different, but they’re both named Chris. Discuss.

Saturday 4-20-19: Author Spotlight

We are always looking for authors to spotlight and ideas for theme days! Contact us here by DM or ask or email thesshbc@gmail.com. There is a new Google doc created by @buckmesideways22 in our bio to make it even easier for you to add yourself to the Sin List!

Remember to tag us if you are inspired by the HBC! Let us know if you want to be added to the masterlist. Keep up those Seb Shenanigans all day every day - keep writing, keep lusting.

Love, The HBC

@book-dragon-13 Country Spice

@buckmesideways22 Tiddie Spice

@cchellacat Tipsy Spice

@eurynome827 Fluffy Spice

[kalcpsics]

                            GEORGE COLE MONTGOMERY

                                                  THE ACADEMIC                                             + caring .  - hesitant .  + considerate .                             - anxious .  + great pep talks .  - shy .  + open minded .                                         - selfless .  + good listener .  - indecisive .

                                  BIO - VERSES - CONNECTIONS

BASICS

nicknames : montgomery . mr . m .  age : twenty - eight . sexuality : demi - sexual .  date of birth : novermber 5 . place of birth : kola , california .  gender / pronouns : cismale . he / him .  relationship status : single .  occupation : high school history teacher .

PHYSICAL

faceclaim : chris wood .  height : 6 ′ eye-color : blue .  hair color : light brown .  hair length : trimmed  . facial hair : light beard .  build: athletic .  dominant hand : left .  accent : west side .  notable changes :

ISMS

astrology sign : libra .  fashion : sweaters with collared shirts underneath . sweatpants & t shirts .  nervous ticks : eye averting . higher pitch voice .  scent : the coast . amber . cardamom . tv tropes : absent minded professor . bumbling dad . klutz .  moral alignment : lawful good ‘ crusader ’ temperament : melancholic .  chinese zodiac : hogwarts house : hufflepuff .  song : loser - beck . 

FAVOURITE

location : his classroom . the trails . the beach .  sports team : dodgers .  game : call of duty .  music : alternative .  animal : dog .  shows : drunken history . late late show .  movies : twelve years a slave . the kings speech .  radio station : food : pizza .  beverage : sweet tea .  color : orange . 

PLACE IN SOCIETY

financial: wealthy / moderate / poor / in poverty.

medical: fit / moderate / sickly / disabled / disadvantaged.

class or caste: upper / middle / working / slave / unsure.

education: qualified / unqualified / studying.

criminal record: yes, for major crimes / yes, for minor crimes / no.

FAMILY

married - happily / married - unhappily / engaged or betrothed / partnered / single / divorced / separated.

has a child or children / has no children / wants children.  

close with sibling(s) / not close with sibling(s) / has no siblings / sibling(s) is deceased.

orphaned / adopted / disowned / raised by birth parent(s).

TRAITS + TENDENCIES

extroverted / introverted / in between.

disorganized / organized / in between.

close minded / open-minded  / in between.

calm / anxious / in between.

disagreeable / agreeable / in between.

cautious / reckless / in between.

patient / impatient / in between.

outspoken / reserved / in between.

leader / follower / in between.

empathetic / unemphatic / in between.

optimistic / pessimistic / in between.

traditional / modern / in between.

hard-working / lazy / in between.

cultured / un-cultured / in between

loyal / disloyal / in between.

faithful / unfaithful / unknown.

BELIEFS:

monotheist / polytheist / atheist / agnostic.

belief in ghosts or spirits: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care.

belief in an afterlife: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care.

belief in reincarnation: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care.

belief in aliens: yes  / no / don’t know / don’t care.

religious: orthodox / liberal / in between / not religious.

philosophical: yes / no.

OPINIONS

pro-choice / anti-abortion /  doesn’t know or on the fence.

pro-death penalty / anti-death penalty  / doesn’t know or on the fence.

pro-drug legislation / anti-drug legislation / doesn’t know or on the fence.

left wing / right wing / middle / doesn’t know or on the fence.

SEXUALITY + ROMANTIC INCLINATION

heterosexual / homosexual / bisexual / demisexual / asexual / pansexual.

sex repulsed / sex neutral / sex favourable.

romance repulsed / romance neutral / romance favourable.

sexually: adventurous / experienced / naive / inexperienced / curious.

potential sexual partners: male / female / agender / other / none / all.

potential romantic partners: male / female / agender / other / none / all.

ABILITIES

combat skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none.

literacy skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

artistic skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

technical skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none.

HABITS

drinking alcohol: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

smoking: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

other narcotics: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

medicinal drugs: never / sometimes  / frequently / to excess.

indulgent food: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

splurge spending: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

gambling: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess. 

[socialsf]

#throwbackthursday #sanfranciscoremembered the one and only #StarsRestaurant #sfrestaurants thanks JT for the post ・・・ "I could make the argument that Stars was the greatest restaurant in American history” Chris Beck. Link in @tower.jeremiah bio “My Fantasy Tour of Wonderful Old Restaurants” (at San Francisco, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/B-xeyUCJDWZ/?igshid=w12gx8soc9l2