i just have to know!! Favourite fossils / fossil taxa? Came for the fats and stayed for the interests… I really like echinoderms !!
echinoderms are fucking sick!!! pls be shhhhh about this but i have a spot where you can find some of the most gorgeous early cretaceous-aged sea urchins, spines and porocystis preserved🫣
museum quality shit. i got to handle a collection worth millions that was full of these and it was LIFE CHANGING
but. i am a plant fossil nerd 😭 i collect a lot of petrified wood!!! my fav pieces are from oregon—although they have some gorgeous opalized/silicified stuff, TX rivals it in beauty imo. ppl just don’t polish their shit here..
conifers are my fav!!! i have a few metasequoia fossils (cone, leaves) and i want more 🥺
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Part 3 of Cheating!Soap I hope yall are ready to hurt
Hurt/barely comfort if you squint. Soap and reader are both a little (a lot) pathetic.
Johnny didn't move a muscle on the couch. He sat until he was sure you had cried yourself to sleep. He listened as your weeping got more and more subdued, as your heartache wore you down until he could no longer hear your gasps for air. He figures you must have wept yourself to exhaustion. That is, until he hears the bedroom door creak open. He listens to your bare feet pad down the hardwood hallway until the sound is muted by the living room carpet.
Johnny lifts his head from his hands to see you standing there at the other end of the couch. He's never seen you look so weak. So defeated. He did that to you. Your head hangs low and your shoulders are slumped forward; your eyes are dull and your hands hang limp at your sides.
He drops his head again, unable to face what his actions have done to you. You, his angel, his perfect wife. Always patient, always brave, always waiting for him to come home safe. He can't look at you now. He feels the seat beside him sink with your weight. The silence drags on for far too long. When you finally speak, your voice is proven, as if he had personally smashed your throat beneath his foot. He might as well have.
"If this is you..." You pause, searching for the right words. You start again. "If this is you trying to... to figure something out..." You trail off. Your mind isn't all there right now, it melted out through your tear ducts. "If this is you... experimenting..." You take a shaky breath. "Then we can work on this."
He slowly turns his head toward you, eyebrows pinched in confusion. You should be asking for a divorce. You should be telling him to get his filthy ass out. And yet, here you are extending an olive branch. It shouldn't be you. He's the guilty party. He should be groveling at your feet for forgiveness, and you should be denying him.
Your ring still gleams on your finger.
Johnny shakes his head. You've got it all wrong. You're giving him too much compassion. Giving him the benefit of the doubt. It's all wrong. But he can't get the right words out either. All he manages is a shake of his head.
"That's not..." he chokes out. His chest feels like it's encased in iron. Your face crumples again. That awful, anguished look that he had never seen before this night. You make a small, pathetic noise in the back of your throat, trying desperately to hold onto your threadbare composure.
"Then why, Johnny?" You croak out, sounding like you have his fist wrapped around your neck. That would hurt less than this. You gasp for air. "Why did you do this to us?" Us! His poor darling, still thinking of you two as a unit. Can't you see he's ruined it? Why aren't you screaming at him?
"I was scared," he answers. You look at him with great worry in your eyes, now.
"Did he... did he force you?" Oh, there you are again, caring too much for this wretched man before you, giving him compassion he does not deserve. He's quick to deny it. He won't give himself such an easy out. He deserves the shame of the truth.
"No- no! He didn't- we-" he's scrambling for an explanation that won't shatter you completely. You're already fragile and broken. The details will only grind you to bits, won't they? But your looking at him like that, like you won't stop until you know why.
"We were pinned. Communications were dark. There was no way out, and were were in that house for so damn long, I... I didn't think I was coming home." He wants you to snap at him. He wants you to scream at him. That's what you did before you thought you would die? Your last act was to betray your wife? But that's not at all what you do. You're quiet again. Subdued, drowning again in that pretty head of yours.
"Do you love him?" You whisper, the sound made of glass. You barely contain a sob as you stare down at your toes. The answer comes easily to him.
"No." You squeeze your eyes tight, like you don't believe him.
"If it's just sex, I- then I c-can live with it but-" your breath is escaping you as you chase after it to keep it in your lungs. You're losing the race. "But please tell me you don't love him!" And you break again. You wrap your arms around yourself and dig your nails into your arms. You're hurting yourself when you should be hurting him. Tearing him up, throwing him out like the garbage he is. He can't stand the sight of it. He moves.
"I don't! I don't love him!" He rushes out as his hands snap to yours to prevent you from raking harsh lines into yourself. He finally touches you, finally, and it's like cool water on a summer's day. You fall into him, and he wraps you up.
"I can't take it if you love him!" you wail, eyes and nose and mouth all wet. "Please!" He holds you tighter, pulls you onto his lap, tucks your head under his chin, cradles you like an infant.
"I promise," he says right into your ear. He needs to make sure you hear it. "It's you. It's only you. I love you. I love you. I love you." He utters it like a prayer. Breathes it out like a confessional. Utters it only for your holy ears to hear. You cling to him like a raft in a storm. Your nails dig into his chest. Finally, he can pay for his sins. Penance through pain. He hopes you break the skin. A blood sacrifice to the goddess in his arms.
"Please don't leave me," you mumble. It's a pitiful plea. He hates himself for knocking you down so low. Why are you begging him? Don't you know it should be him instead? He holds you impossibly closer, almost afraid to crush you.
"Never. Never." You draw back suddenly, both hands holding his face. There's a firey desperation in your eyes. He feels the metal of your ring pressing into his cheekbone.
"Swear to me." Your wild eyes dart back and forth between his.
"I swear-"
"Whatever you do out there- whatever you have to do to make it through- to make it home-" your words come out rushed between panicked breaths. You grimace and shake your head, unable to finish the thought. "Whatever you do, you come home to me. Me. Your wife."
"My wife," he repeats and nods.
"Swear it!"
"I swear!" And then you kiss him. It's wet and clumsy and shaky. Your lips taste like stomach acid but he can't find it in himself to care. He'll do anything you want if only to lessen your pain.
"We made a vow, John MacTavish," you whisper, lips trembling against his. Your fingernails dig into his shaved scalp. Good. "You are mine."
"I'm yours. I'm yours." You press your forehead against his.
"Now take your wife to bed."
---
Part 4
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curvy/chubby! reader x Aragorn
Warnings: fem/afab reader, a little smut teehee
no cuz imagine curvy/chubby! Reader is arranged to marry Aragorn to make an alliance between both royal family’s, and he sees you and IMMEDIATELY his eyes dip down to your thighs and hips. You two got along great, there were close to no problems with your marriage! Except, well, the citizens didn’t quite like the thought of him marrying someone who had curves, instead of someone skinny. He told you not to pay any mind to them, because they didn’t know what they were talking about. I mean, damn, that man worships you!!
Like, you can’t tell me he isn’t into the idea of breeding. He practically begs you to give him an heir! <3 everytime he sees you sprawled out on your shared bed, with nothing on.. it does things to him. And my god is that man into some dirty talk. Usually it’s something along the lines of “taking me so well, my love.” “Yeah? You’re going to give me an heir? Gunna let me fill you up?” RAHHH but can you blame him?? You’re perfectly built to be a mother, he’s not gunna let that chance slip away!! <3
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