#i think he just has. permanent sunburn

[laicanthrope]

lil tiny apollo i drew in aggie w an oomfie :3 its based on this official art that im obbbsessed with hes such a cutie

[luveline]

could you write bombshell!reader getting a tattoo of spencer’s name or something that reminds her of him and his reaction please?

“Why are you kissing me?” you mumble, your voice hoarse with sleep. 

They’re light kisses. “I’m going now,” Spencer says, matching your quiet tone. 

“No.” 

You wrap your arm behind his neck and feel his hair against your wrist. His nose and lips warm your jaw. 

“Yes.” He kisses your jaw. “I have to go, but I didn’t wanna leave without a kiss.” 

That’s really sweet, he’s so sweet, you’re so tired. “Please don’t go, Spencer.” 

“I have to go.” He readjusts your hugging to hum against your temple, distinctly content despite your pleading. “I’ll be back by six for dinner, promise.” 

“Promise,” you say.

You get to keep him for a few minutes, regardless. His neck must sing bent as he is over you but he doesn’t relent, doesn’t move until you encourage his face back to kiss just under his bottom lip. “Sorry, I’m making you late,” you whisper. 

“No, no, I accounted for this. You’re on my agenda.” 

“How much time did you allot?” you ask through a smile. 

“Seventeen minutes. That’s how long we usually hug in the morning.” 

“Gotta get that time down,” you say. 

“Or up.” He holds your face. You turn your head into his touch and keep him for just another half a minute. 

“Okay,” you mumble, letting your eyes flutter closed again, “you can leave, I’m gonna go back to sleep.” 

“Good idea.” He kisses you, and he says goodbye. You’re sleeping again before he’s even left your room

When you wake properly, you still feel loved, like a sunburn but with less stinging. There’s something very special about your boy; something permanent about the way he loves. You can’t imagine he’ll ever stop loving you like this, he’s embedded you so deeply into his life and his routines (and you’d beg him to keep you if he ever changed his mind). That in itself is crazy. You can’t have imagined begging a guy to let you stay, but for Spencer, you would.  

When he comes home that night, half an hour before six, you have no regrets. 

You hadn’t noticed how he was dressed when he left, but he looks lovely in just a simple t-shirt and jeans. Remarkably casual for him, you used to think he only wore t-shirts to bed, but the older he gets the better propensity he has for comfort. What makes it for you is the cardigan. 

“You look nice,” you praise, more than satisfied when the first thing he does after he takes off his shoes is lean down to hug you where you’re sitting on his couch. 

“Thank you.” He pats your back and pulls away. “You’re beautiful,” he says with ease, like he’s commenting on the weather. “Good day?” 

Your lips pucker into a twist. 

“What?” he asks. 

Unfortunately, he sounds deeply worried. 

“No, it’s nothing, I just hurt my arm. Can you have a look?” 

Spencer takes your arm. “What did you do?” he asks, pulling the sleeve of your shirt carefully up to your elbow. The Saran wrap confuses him, until it doesn’t, and he grins at your skin, before frowning again. His flickering emotions worry you, until he says, “Is that mine?” 

You hold your arm in the light. “Of course it’s yours?” 

It’s just a few words from a note he wrote you, perhaps too soon into your relationship for sweetness, and yet one you kept anyways. He told you the story of the I Love You lighthouse, or rather, the Minot Ledge lighthouse, and how the man who lived there had to live on a different island to his family while tending the lighthouse, so he would flash the light once, then four times, and then three times, one flash for every letter of each corresponding word: I love you. The note was left on your dresser. You’d slept together the night before, but he had to leave early. Nowadays he wakes you up, but  back then he’d been too shy. 

I want to be able to do that for you but I can’t find a lighthouse in D.C. that will let me in to try. I’ll keep looking. 

“I’ll keep looking,” Spencer reads. His thumb heistates just under your small font.

“It’s from that note you left me.”

“I know, I remember.” He does his awful frowny face where his eyelids lower and you're sure he’ll never smile again, he looks that upset. “You know this is permanent?”

“They do tend to be,” you say with a lovelorn sigh. 

“I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if I should kiss you, or hug you, or… I don’t know why you’d do this.”

“But it’s okay?” you ask. It could make for a very awkward conversation if he doesn't like it.

“It’s perfect.” He holds your gaze. “You’re perfect.”

He acts like your tattoo is a gaping wound as he moves in to hug you, careful of your new ink, but relentless in the tightness of his arms behind your back. You laugh, then squeal at his insistence, a giggly girly thing that nobody else should ever hear but him. He doesn’t make fun of you, just squeezes you to him, his face pressed so hard to yours you can feel his cheekbones. 

“Now I just have to say something romantic for you to get tattooed and we’ll be equal again.’

“So we aren’t equal?”

“Um, no way.” Your laugh is self-satisfied and breathless. You turn your lips to his cheek. “I love you. I’m gonna build you a lighthouse.”

“Can’t believe you kept that note.”

“I have a whole shoebox of them. I love that you write them.”

He stops holding himself up, half on the couch and half in your lap as he hugs you with every bit of strength in his arms.

[fairyhaos]

◈ raspberry and pistachio cake // jeon wonwoo

wonwoo x gn!reader, 1.6k+ words

tags: non-idols, fluff, soulmates(ish), established relationship, wonwoo watches yn paint by the river :3

warnings: pet names (baby), yn is of a skin colour that can get sunburn

summary: you're raspberry pink, and wonwoo is pistachio green.... unfortunately (not), that's all it takes for his soul to be permanently bonded to yours.

Soulmate. 

You’ve never really liked the word. There’s always been something rather—disappointingly predetermined, about it. Like a soulmate is someone that you simply find one day and, suddenly, you realise they’re your other half. The last puzzle piece to your life. Like you were imperfect, incomplete, missing something, before you met. That always felt wrong.

Despite this, Wonwoo is most certainly your soulmate.

“What do you think?”

Wonwoo looks up at your voice, leaning over to peer over your shoulder, and he pauses contemplatively as he considers.

“Very pretty,” he says finally, the smile warm in his voice. “I like the pink you used.”

He points at your painted blossoms, dark pink and delicate, alive against the flat yellow page of your half-finished painting. The compliment earns him a brilliant smile from you, and his own smile widens, pleased.

You’ve been at this for a while now, hunched over your mini sketchbook as Wonwoo twiddles his thumbs on the bench beside you. To any passersby who see you painting by the river, lost in your own world, it looks like you’re cruelly ignoring your boyfriend on a picture-perfect day on the picture-perfect date, but it’s actually quite the opposite. 

In fact, Wonwoo offered to bring you here to do just this.

Today is quite honestly the most gorgeous day of the entire year, with the sunlight a dainty white-gold, spilling over the water and making even the grass glow. The cherry blossoms are in full bloom, and by some miracle, they haven’t disappeared even though the weekend has arrived. They rustle quietly in the spring breeze, soft as marshmallows, pink as cherub’s lips. Some of their petals snow down when the wind hits them just right, and you lift your head in wonder at the sight of the pink blending with the green blades of grass.

Your head is blissfully quiet, devoid of any whispers of worry or stress. All that exists is you, the beautiful landscape, and your sketchbook.

Oh, and Wonwoo, of course.

Wonwoo, who read your mind like it was nothing, who had known, even before you did, that you wanted to leave the house today and take some time to empty your brain and paint mindless landscapes by the river and let the hours pass you by.

Beautiful, wonderful Wonwoo, who had done all of that with a simple “Shall we go out today?” and a beautiful, wonderful shine in his eyes.

It’s like he really does know you. In a way that only a soulmate would.

He watches you now, quiet, taking in the way you dip your paintbrush into your paints, brushing tiny strokes across the page, pausing every now and then to observe your own movements before carrying on. He can’t help the smile that permanently lifts the corners of his lips: you’re so obviously in your element, relaxed and happy, and he’s so pleased to see you so content.

Wonwoo quite honestly has nothing to do right now. He didn’t bring anything to occupy himself, and it doesn’t feel right to go on his phone when nature is bright and alive all around him, so he just watches you.

It’s quite nice. You’re very pretty. Everything about you is so—pretty, and from the twitch of your eyelashes to the frown of your brow when you concentrate, there’s something so uniquely you about it that he adores. You have the prettiest, kindest, loveliest soul he’s ever seen, and he loves seeing the way you practically glow whenever he’s by your side. He loves knowing that he can make you feel that way, that you feel comfortable enough to be so soft and vulnerable with him in a way you never are with others.

Makes him feel like he’s your soulmate, almost. He knows you don’t believe in that kind of thing, but for him, you really are his soulmate. So he hopes he’s yours, too.

“I really like these blossoms,” you say abruptly, and Wonwoo blinks back into the present. You’re not looking at him, instead squinting at the blossom trees on the other side of the river, but Wonwoo gives you his full attention anyway, wide-eyed and attentive.

“Really? Why these ones?”

“They’re raspberry pink,” you say, mixing more of the dark pink to paint your flowers. You look up and meet Wonwoo’s gaze, a smile crinkling the corners of your eyes. “It’s rare to find blossoms that are this kind of pink. It’s so pretty.”

Wonwoo softens. “I see,” he says thoughtfully. “You’re right, we don’t see this colour of blossoms very often. They really are rare and pretty.” Then he smiles, the frames of his glasses glinting in the sunlight. “But nothing is as pretty as you.”

That makes you laugh, head tilted back, laughter like bright bursts of light, and Wonwoo’s heart swells.

“You’re just obligated to say that, ‘cause you’re my boyfriend,” you say teasingly. Both of you know that’s a lie, however. Wonwoo would love you to the ends of the world, even if you didn’t feel the same. 

Wonwoo goes along with it anyway.

“You’re right,” he says solemnly, abruptly stoic-serious, and it makes you laugh again. “I’m contractually bound to call you the prettiest being in existence.”

You rub at your cheek with a paint-stained hand, grinning. “Damn right you are. I made that contract.”

“Yes, you did,” Wonwoo says, and he can’t help the fondness that seeps in as you go back to your sketchbook. He can see the way you begin to disconnect from the world again, can see the exact moment his own voice becomes muffled to your ears. Wonwoo smiles, fond. “And I was so infatuated with you that I signed it right away.”

───────────── 🍰

When the heat finally gets too much for you, you finally stretch and set your paints aside, giving your boyfriend a smile.

“Finished?” Wonwoo asks, and you shake your head.

“No way. If I could paint more, then I would, but I think I have sunburn on my wrists now,” you say with a laugh, and Wonwoo chuckles.

“That’s plausible. We’ve been sitting here for a while,” he says, and begins helping you pack away. Gently, you blow against your still-wet pages as Wonwoo gathers your brushes and paints. You turn to him once he’s finished, a pout on your lips.

“I don’t think this is dry,” you say sadly, as Wonwoo packs your things away into a bag he brought with you. “I’m gonna have to hold the book like this all the way home.”

Wonwoo smiles. “Don’t worry. I’ll shield you from any strong wind.”

You laugh. “Thank you, baby. You’re the best. I was more worried that I wouldn’t be able to hold your hand, though.”

“Ah.” His smile drops comically fast as he contemplates this oh-so serious matter. “It’s okay. In the name of art, I’ll go home with my hands empty. It’s fine.”

“Thank you for your noble sacrifice,” you say, and Wonwoo laughs. “Come on, let’s go home.”

You have no idea what time it is as Wonwoo turns you by your elbow and slowly walks you home. The sun is still out, and there’s still a light breeze rustling the grass, so time has done that weird thing where it feels like it’s stopped. But you don’t really have a desire to know how long you’ve spent by the river. It’s not like it really matters. 

There are worse things in life than spending 6+ hours painting by the riverside, anyway. 

“Say,” you say abruptly, and Wonwoo looks over. “Do we have any cake at home?”

Wonwoo hums. “I’m afraid not. But I can stop by the store and get some, if you want.”

“Oh, definitely,” you say. “This is certainly cake-eating weather. We need to have some cake and eat it, Wonwoo.”

He laughs. “Alright. Let’s put the paints away and I’ll go get a cake, then. Which one should I get? Pistachio, as usual?”

“As usual,” you confirm. “Though…” Your voice trails off, and you look down at your painting in your hands, the bright splashes of raspberry pink blinking up at you.

It’s like Wonwoo reads your mind.

“Shall I get some raspberries to put on it, too?” he asks, and smiles when you brighten in excitement. “Okay, I’ll do that.”

You sigh happily. “God, Wonwoo, you really are my soulmate.”

Wonwoo stumbles a little, tripping over air. “I—really?”

“Of course,” you say, and laugh when his eyes widen in disbelief. “Hey, I might hate the concept of soulmates, but I’ll still love my own. You’re like, literally the love of my life. I wasn’t broken before I knew you, but you make me feel even happier than if I was just by myself.” You gesture with your head to the sketchbook in your hands. “You let me paint by the river, you buy me cake without batting an eye, you literally love me with every fiber of your being. Never before have I felt so loved until I met you.”

Wonwoo is—he’s your boyfriend, but he’s also more than that. He’s your carbon copy, your polar opposite, your safe space, your happiness, the light in your life. He’s the green of new growth, the warmth of spring, the softness of baby ferns against your sharp, citrusy pinks. 

He’s your soulmate, in the fact that his soul was made to reside next to yours: both whole, both perfect, both beautiful, but all the more overjoyed with one another by their side.

Wonwoo looks a bit teary-eyed at your words, to be honest. There’s a shine to his eyes that makes them sparkle in the pale sunlight, soft with adoration, and you can feel the way his heart is melting.

“You’re my soulmate too,” he says, warm as love. “I want to make you happy for the rest of your life.”

And as you walk with him, under the spring sun, an open sketchbook in hand as he carries your paints, promising to buy you the cake you wanted, the word soulmate leaving his lips, light as flowers—you find yourself knowing that he really will.

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @kellesvt @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @starshuas @raevyng @isabellah29 @hrts4hanniehae @mcu-incorrect @dokyeomkyeom @suraandsugar @tulsa24 @melodicrabbit @dokyeomkyeom @hopeless-foolery @aaa-sia

[quintinh43]

The Best Summer Ever | Quinn Hughes

Summary: First summer at the lakehouse, and it couldn't be better.

Pairings: Quinn Hughes x Teacher!Fem!Reader

Warnings: None, just some pure sweetness. Part of this universe but can be read on its own!

Wc: 3.6k

-

As you lounge in the backyard of the lake house, with a book in hand, working on your tan, and Quinn napping beside you, you surmise that coming to Michigan with Quinn for the summer was one of the best decisions you've ever made. 

Quinn lays on his stomach, with his head pillowed in the crook of his arms. He hadn't planned to nap, but the two of you had gone on a run along the waterline this morning, and then Quinn had a training session with the boys. He had conked out, less than ten minutes after he had stretched out beside you.

You glance at the time on your phone, Quinn has been asleep for almost an hour. You bookmark your page, deciding it's time to wake him up, before his lovely golden tan turns into a massive sunburn. You flip onto your stomach and delve your fingers into Quinn's hair, gently working through the tangles. 

The humidity was doing wonders for his curls, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't absolutely head over heels for summertime Quinn. The tan, the curls, the way his cheeks always seemed to be flushed from heat, the smile that seemed permanently etched into his face. You drop a kiss to his shoulder, and your other hand traces light patterns along his spine. 

Pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along his shoulders and upper back, your fingers massage his scalp steadily. He makes a low noise of contentment, and you grin against his sun-kissed skin. "Quinn," you murmur against his skin. 

He doesn't respond. You press a kiss to the crook of his neck, and he stirs under you. Another behind his ear. And the underside of his jaw. 

His chest rumbled with a soft hum, and he nuzzled his head against the crook of his arm with a sleepy sigh. You giggle and pull out your phone to snap a photo of him. He reminds you of a cat napping in the sun.

"Quintin," you mutter against his skin, he gives you a sleepy grunt, "wake up honey," you say softly, carding your fingers through his hair, "if you don't turn over you're going to get a horrid burn on your back," you coax, tugging ever so gently on his curly locks. 

Quinn rolls over with a huff. Suddenly his arms are around you and he's pulling you on top of him. You squeal in surprise as he situates you between his legs comfortably, your forearms resting on either side of his head. He squints one eye open, with a glare. Half because you woke him up and half because the sun was so bright.

"Why'd you wake me up?" He huffs. 

You snort, detangling yourself from his arms, "Cause you whine like a bitch when you're sunburnt." His jaw drops, and you grin, kissing him on the cheek sweetly. 

"I can't believe you just called me a bitch," he gasps, all traces of sleep disappearing from his body.

"I'm just telling the truth," you shrug, a smile playing on your lips. Quinn sits up, pulling your sunglasses off, you squint your eyes, frowning at the sudden brightness. 

You screech in alarm, as Quinn is suddenly grabbing you around the waist, holding you tight to his body and walking towards the dock. "Quinn," you gasp "What are you doing?"

"I think someone needs to cool down her attitude a little," Quinn smirks, his tone like he's scolding a child.

"Quinn," there's slight panic in your tone, "please no, I'm sorry" You flail your legs trying to escape his hold before he tosses you into the lake. 

"Sorry baby, I can't hear you over my bitchiness," Quinn snarks, nipping at your ear playfully. You yelp, twisting in his hold. 

"I didn't mean it, you aren't a bitch, you're the sweetest man to ever exist, you have never been bitchy in your life! You deserve the world and I love you with all my heart!" You ramble, pressing kisses to his face in hopes that he will have mercy.

Quinn is smiling mischievously, "Gotta do better than that baby," he's standing at the edge of the dock.

"Quintin Jerome Hughes!" You warn, wrapping your arms and legs around him tightly, "I swear to God if you-" Before you can finish your threat, Quinn is jumping off the dock with you wrapped around him.

The shock of being plunged into cold water after being in the sun for over an hour is brutal. You resist the urge to scream purely because you're underwater and you don't need a mouth full of water. 

As your heads break the surface, you gasp for air. Quinn's grin is infectious and you can't help but grin back. "How's the attitude? Cooled off yet?" He asks smirking. 

You unwrap your legs from around his waist, kicking them back and forth underwater to help keep the two of you afloat. Your arms wrap around his neck tugging on his now wet hair, "Think I'm still a bit hot," you smile teasingly, pushing on his shoulders to dunk his head under water. 

Quinn gasps for air as he goes down. You cackle as he fails to drag you under with him. He comes up, shaking his wet hair out of his eyes, and lunging after you with a grin.  You swim away with screeching laughter. You splash Quinn aggressively in an attempt to save yourself.

Suddenly there’s a loud whooping coming from the dock, along with heavy footsteps. Then Jack is cannonballing into the water. Luke follows after him flipping off the dock in a fancy maneuver that briefly leaves your heart in your throat. As soon as their heads break the surface, they grin mischievously. The four of you lose track of time and end up fooling around in the water for hours, splashing, wrestling, racing, and every other possible game you can think of.

By the time Ellen is calling you out of the water to get ready for dinner like a bunch of children, Jack is sporting a wicked sunburn across his nose and cheeks and you and Luke have probably swallowed half of Lake Erie from the amount that Quinn and Jack have been dunking you under water and splashing you in the face.

You hoist yourself onto the dock and offer Quinn a hand to help pull him up, he takes it with a grin and pulls you back into the water with a cackle. You pout at him, as you move your wet hair out of your eyes. Quinn kisses the pout right off your face, and you can’t help but melt into it, locking your arms around his neck and kissing him back. 

“Ewwww!” Luke screeches, as he and Jack begin to splash the two of you all over again. 

“Children!” Ellen barks, unable to keep the smile off her face, “Out of the water or you will  be late for your dinner plans!”

There is a collective grumbling amongst the four of you, but you exit the water nonetheless. This time, Quinn doesn't pull you back into the water, lest he face the wrath of his mother. Ellen and Jim had plans with a few of their friends while Luke and Jack had been invited to have dinner with a few other NHL guys who lived on the lake. Originally, you and Quinn had been invited too, but Quinn had politely declined in favour of taking you out on a good ol’ classy dinner date at the country club. 

As bad as you felt about declining the invite, you were excited to have Quinn to yourself for the evening. The only time you and Quinn got a moment alone for yourselves was usually when you were going to sleep, so you were looking forward to this Dinner date.

Quinn wraps a towel over your shoulders as the four of you head up to the house, Jack and Luke sprinting ahead to fight over who gets to use their shower first. “You shower first?” Quinn mutters against your wet hair.

“We could shower together,” you wiggle your eyebrows suggestively “save some water.” Quinn chuckles, pressing another kiss to your hair fondly, “Trust me, baby, if we shower together, we definitely won’t be saving water.”

You laugh along with him, knowing he’s right, “I’ll be quick,” you assure, stripping out of your swimsuit and stepping under the cool spray of water. You run through your shower steps as quickly as you can and are in and out in ten minutes. While Quinn showers you do your hair and makeup, keeping it simple and sticking to your usual routine for fancier events. As you apply mascara on your lashes, you’re a bit giddy for dinner tonight. 

The dress you picked out, was a classy white number that you had been saving for something fancy, and you were excited to finally be able to wear it. And also to see Quinn’s reaction to you in it. He hops out of the shower and is quick to change into a stylish short-sleeved white button-up and a pair of beige slacks.

“Do my hair?” he asks, tipping his head towards you in invitation. You smile, running some hair oil and a bit of curl product through his locks so they are nice and defined, he kisses you on the cheek in thanks, “I’ll wait for you downstairs,” he says stealing one last kiss.

He slips out of the room, and you lock the door behind him as you pull the dress out from the back of the closet. You get dressed, grab your bag and your trusty pair of nude heels, and go exit the room. As soon as you appear at the top of the stairs, Quinn's eyes are drawn to you. His jaw drops, and his eyes soften with love as you fuss over trying to fit your phone in your bag.

You look up to find Quinn staring at you and your cheeks warm. One thing about Quinn is that there is meaning in everything he does. He is purposeful and thorough, and he works hard for what he wants. So when he pins you with that look, you feel loved, purposefully, and wholeheartedly, and damn if that isn't the best feeling ever. You lock eyes with Quinn, and his lips curl into a soft, adoring smile. 

Everything else falls away as you descend the stairs. It's just you and Quinn. He makes you feel like a princess, and he is your prince charming waiting at the bottom, hand extended towards you, ready to lead you to your happily ever after. 

“Hi,” he whispers as you take his hand, he brushes a gentle kiss on the backs of your knuckles and your stomach flutters. 

“Hi,” you smile, staring up at him through your lashes. You thought it would be impossible to love this man even more than you already did, but every day he proves you wrong, “I Love you,” you murmur softly. 

“I love you too,” He smiles, and damn if you don't wanna abandon your dinner and spend the night in his arms.

Ellen rounds the corner and is immediately gushing over the two of you, “Oh, just look at you two! Come here I want pictures,” you slip on your heels as she ushers the two of you in front of the mantel, much to Quinn's chagrin. 

“Mom please,” Quinn whines, “we’re not kids, and this is not prom,” you snicker at his whining, secretly happy that Ellen is making the two of you take photos.  

“You may not be kids, but you're still my children, now pose,” she demands, holding up her phone. 

Quinn wraps an arm around your waist and you place a hand on his chest as the two of you smile at his mom's camera. After she snaps probably over a hundred photos Quinn is practically pulling you out of the door, with the boat keys in hand, “better not get me wet,” you warn, as you carefully smooth down your dress.

“Wouldn't dream of it,” Quinn chuckles as the boat hums to life. You sit in the seat across from Quinn, legs curled under your chin resting against your hand as you take in the way the dipping sun reflects on the water. The golden halo of sunlight that illuminates you makes you look like an angel. Quinn is absolutely enraptured by your beauty, if he could freeze this moment in time, he would. 

The boat ride from the lake house to the country club takes less than twenty minutes, it would have been faster if Quinn wasn't trying to keep the both of you dry. He parks the boat on one of the docks, and hops over the edge of the boat, holding his hand out to you. You take it gratefully, not letting go even when you are safe on solid ground.

So far you've only been to the Country Club during the day when the boys deemed it a golf day, or to play tennis, or grab something easy for lunch before going right back out in the boat. In the early evening, it almost seemed like a completely different place.

You hold onto Quinn's bicep, fingers tapping nervously against corded muscle, as he leads you through the front foyer of the building. Quinn squeezes your hand reassuringly. It's at moments like these that you feel self-conscious about the fact that you're dating a Superstar Captain of the NHL. He could be doing much better than a lowly elementary school teacher. 

It's as if Quinn can read your negative thoughts. He looks at you, face soft with concern, nodding his head to ask if you're ok. You give him a tight smile and nod, squeezing his bicep again, as you dispel all the thoughts from your head. Quinn wants you. That's why you're here.

A pretty hostess, dressed from head to toe in black, is quick to find you. “Do you have a reservation?” she asks professionally. 

“Yep,” Quinn answers with a polite smile, “It should be under Hughes,”

The hostess clicks a few times on her iPad, and her eyes light up as she clocks in Quinn's reservation, “Right this way please,” she leads you through The main dining room, up a set of stairs and out onto the rooftop patio with the most magnificent view of the lake. “Someone will be right with you,” she smiles. 

“Thank you,” you and Quinn say simultaneously. He pulls out your chair, and you smile at him, smoothing your dress out as you sit down. 

“Quinn, this is so beautiful,” you gasp, taking in the view.

“Yeah it is,” he says smirking. His eyes are locked on you, and when you notice your cheeks flush. 

“You're so cheesy,” you mumble, picking at a loose thread in your napkin. 

“You love it,” Quinn smirks.

At that moment a Waiter appears, offering the two of you menus, and asking what you would like to drink. Quinn orders some kind of expensive wine, and the waiter leaves to retrieve it and give you time to look over your menus. It's much fancier than you're used to, and it's a little overwhelming, but Quinn happily takes charge, keeping a comforting hand on your thigh under the table.

Once the food is ordered and you both have a few glasses of wine in your system everything feels much easier. Along the way, your heels got discarded under the table, and your bare foot was resting on Quinn's thigh, rubbing up and down teasingly. 

Your foot strays a bit too high and Quinn wraps a hand around your ankle, stopping your foot from moving any closer to his dick. He throws you a dark, lust-filled look that holds a promise for later, and you smirk at him teasingly. All in all, the dinner was absolutely amazing. The food was delicious and you were absolutely elated to have Quinn to yourself for a few hours.

“Wanna go for a walk on the beach?” Quinn asks as the two of you leave the restaurant hand in hand. The sun is just dipping below the horizon, casting the sky in beautiful shades of orange, pink and purple. 

“Absolutely I do,” you grin, hanging into his arm. The two of you deposit your shoes in the boat and walk along the waterline. Quinn has an arm draped over your shoulder, and yours is wrapped around his waist fingers dancing under his shirt and across the bare skin of his torso. You lean your head on his shoulder and his fingers draw patterns on your arm. You wish you could burn this moment into permanence.

“I can't wait to do this with you every summer,” you say quietly, afraid to disrupt the peace of the moment. Quinn pulls his arm from your shoulders, it takes you a few steps to realize he isn't walking, and when you turn to see what's wrong, your hands fly to your mouth with a gasp. 

Quinn is down on one knee, with a ring box open in his hands. Somehow the only thing you can think is that his pants are going to get dirty from kneeling in the damp sand. 

“Your pants are going to get dirty,” you croak, voice thick with emotion. Quinn chuckles, shaking his head fondly. 

“Y/n,” he starts, with a soft breath, “I know we've technically only been dating for a few months. But for as long as I've known you I knew I wanted to do forever with you.” he takes a shaky breath “Honestly, I had a whole speech written, but you look so angelic in the sunset that it all left my brain.”

You let out a choked giggle, as tears pool in the corner of your eyes. You kneel down in front of him, resting your shaky hands on his knee. 

“Your dress is gonna get dirty” Quinn parrots, and it's your turn to laugh at him.

Quinn takes another deep breath, brushing a stray tear off your cheek. “Y/n, from the moment I met you, I knew you would be special to me. Knowing you for the past six years of my life has been the greatest blessing that I could've asked for. The easiest thing I've ever done in my life is love you, and god- there aren't words to describe how much I love you and what you mean to me. I want to spend forever with you by my side.” The tears that decorate the rims of Quinn’s eyes finally spill over, “So, Y/n Y/l/n, will you do me the greatest honour in being my wife?”

An ugly sob escapes your lips and you throw your arms around his neck, “Yes, yes, yes, a million times yes,” you cry, pressing kisses to his face, there is salt on your lips and at this point, you aren't sure if they are your tears or his. Quinn finds your left hand and slips the ring onto your fourth finger. You take a minute to really look at it, and all of a sudden, you're crying all over again. It's everything you’ve ever dreamed of.

You throw your arms around Quinn again, dragging him down for a kiss, he holds you tight to his body, kissing you back like it's the last time he'll ever get to do so. As Quinn licks at the seam of your lips, something in the back of your mind reminds you that you're in public, but you can't bring yourself to care enough to stop kissing him.

The clicking of a camera accompanied by sniffling is what drags you out of your moment with Quinn. You look over to find Jack and Luke. Jack holding up his old camera from back when he had a hobby in photography and Luke holding up his phone. They're both teary-eyed with huge smiles on their faces. 

Quinn stands, pulling you with him, and then Luke and Jack are throwing themselves at the two of you, and everyone is holding onto each other. There are so many tears it's hard to tell who's crying and who's not. Eventually Jack and Luke detach themselves from the two of you, wiping at their eyes and grinning wildly. 

“I can't believe you said yes to spending the rest of your life with our stinky big brother,” Luke wrinkles his nose.

“Shut it, Moose,” Quinn rolls his eyes, pushing his brother playfully. 

“I know you said yes, but it's not too late to blink twice if you need help,” Jack says seriously.

You laugh, knowing they are joking, but nothing could pry you from Quinn at this moment. Jack convinces the two of you to pose for a few more pictures, in the fading twilight. He captures a few absolutely stunning ones of your ring, promising that everything will be sent to you after he edits them. Eventually the four of you part ways, Jack and Luke heading to their car and you and Quinn back to the boat. 

The drive back to the lake house is much chiller now that the sun is almost entirely gone. Quinn smiles knowingly, pulling a hoodie out of one of the seat compartments. You slip it over your head, sighing happily as the scent of Quinn engulfs you. He pulls you into his lap, keeping an arm securely around your waist and hooking his chin over your shoulder. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, resting your head against the crook of his neck.

“I love you so so much Quinny,” you whisper, “I'm excited to spend forever with you,”

“Me too, my love, me too” Quinn sighs happily, placing a sweet kiss on your forehead. 

A sudden thought hits you, and the biggest smile blooms on your face, "I can't wait to be Mrs. Hughes," you say, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Quinns eyes twinkle lovingly, "That has a nice ring to it,"

"Yeah,"

-

Ok idk how I feel about this!

I started it and I loved it. Then I wrote the middle and I still loved it. And then I wrote the end, and I still loved it. And now that I have to post it I fucking hate it! So that's nice!

Anyways hope yall enjoy.

Leave comments cause I'm an attention whore 🥰

Also, this series likely won't be updated for a while, cause I never originally planned to make it a series anyways, but here we are! Just cause I have a lot of one-shots floating around in my notes that I wanna work on. If there's anything yall wanna see from this series, let me know and I might write that!

Also, I am working on those blurb requests! I promise! I'll start posting them eventually!

Apologies for the ramble, love yall <3

[ohbo-ohno]

wip wednesday? gaz x reader, cw for mourning a spouse

Here are all the things you know about Kyle’s disappearance:

1: It happened early in his deployment. He’d hardly been gone for three weeks when you got the message. It came in the middle of the workday, and you’d called out sick for the next week, hadn’t bothered showing up for another two after that. John Price’s voice haunts your nightmares these days, his low rumble and we offer our deepest condolences, Mrs. Garrick playing on repeat as you hug Kyle’s pillow close and sob.

2: He’s not the only one missing. His entire ship disappeared, and all its sailors went with it. Kyle was the highest ranking man on board, apparently, and only one of the other sailors was married. His wife tried to reach out to you a few times, but you hadn’t had the energy to even attempt holding a conversation at the time.

3: He’s not dead. Or at least, there’s no body for them to bury. The distinction between KIA and MIA isn’t lost on you. (You think this is what you mean when they say it’s the hope that kills you as you’re stuck firmly and permanently in the denial phase in the months following his disappearance.)

4: There’s no attempt being made to find a body. And oh, how you had railed against John Price for that. You’d screamed yourself hoarse into your phone, then become nearly incoherent with sobs as you begged him to find your Kyle, to bring him home. He had denied you, said he couldn’t get approval from his own superiors, said I’m truly sorry, Mrs. Garrick, I swear to you I tried my best, we all miss him, too. You’d hung up on him and thrown your phone to the floor, inconsolable. You’re not sure if he ever called back, since you blocked his number.

5: It has been thirteen months since you first got the call. Had Kyle not gone missing, you’d have already picked him up at the airport and made him his favorite meal, called out of work to spend days in bed with him, maybe even booked reservations at that fancy restaurant he always talks about wanting to try someday. Instead you’re telling yourself that it’s pointless to learn how to make meals for one, just in case someday you wake up to find that this has all been a terrible nightmare.

It’s not enough. Endless questions haunt your every thought, keep you awake at night. You think that this hellish unknowing is the worst thing you could ever experience, that it’s keeping you in a sort of limbo that you can never escape. 

The idea that he suffered, that he was in pain before his death – or somehow almost worse, that he’s not dead at all. That he’s crashlanded on some sandbank, starving and sunburned, a real-life Chuck Noland with no one even bothering to look for him anymore. 

Every moment spent not thinking about him, not remembering him, feels like a betrayal, like a dismissal of the trauma you’ve imagined him experiencing.

[gillsoffish]

yall ever think about shit like albinism on cybertronians? albino seekers, melanistic insecticons, tri colored bots with vitiligo or melasma on their faceplate. or even those marks some people get when they survive lightning.

this kinda ties into my head cannon that most cybertronians paint themselves different then their natural paint colors. most would have only one or two colors apart from their bio lights. mechs with three or more natural paint colors are pretty rare so you dont usually see certain conditions and such because there covered by cosmetics.

of course I'm thinking about Starscream I'm sorry i have to make everything about him. i like to think he's naturally tri colored and doesn't wanna do anything to his frame cosmetically apart from normal maintenance. his metal around his helm and his faceplate is a pretty dark grey so his paint sticks out, you would be able to see if he had anything like splotches or "stretch marks" which in cybertronians i would think is from growing and the paint now growing back fast enough but there not permanent and can be buffed out. i wonder if the separate colors would be crisp lines or if they might blend on some mechs. I just love thinking about it

AND THINK ABOUT SHATTER4ED GLASS STARSCREAM HES ALMOST ALL WHITE. mf has albinism and he likes to give himself touches of paint to look all nice. maybe is the same on cybertronians as it is on humans where there more sensitive to sunburns and light? someone please tell me there own thoughts and ideas

[dausy]

This year is going to be sparse on art stuff. I just can't manage.

For life update, husband got his first retirement and Disability checks post military. He went ahead and quit his first post military job because it honestly wasn't worth it and he'll have to play Mr Mom when baby gets here in June. I like having a stay at home spouse to be honest. I come home and he's cleaned the house and made dinner and packed me a lunch for the next day. That being said I'm exhausted 100% of the time. Whatever brief spirts of energy I do have, are extremely rare. I am usually bouncing off the walls at work type of person but I just can't manage to do anything at not a leisurely pace and I'm so blasé at work that I'm lucky if my heart rate reaches the 70s in a stressful moment. I feel like my new coworkers have got to be frustrated with me being like "hi, and also, I'm pregnant"

My patients are so sick too and they're well outside my wheelhouse. I should be internally panicking. But my baby is like the ultimate xanax. I really wanted to maintain activity during pregnancy and be like a fit active person and I now assume every influencer online are liars. Liar liar pants on fire. All yall. I still go to the gym on my days off but a lot of work outs I used to do are just too uncomfortable. Bench presses, squats, deadlifts...they all squish and hurt. Each step on a treadmill feels like my bladder is being squished too. I'm also on call a lot. I had one weekend where I worked 4 days during the week and then had to come in friday night and spent all day sat/sun at the hospital. I feel like I can't catch up at sleep.

let me be clear, I am not trying to complain. It is just my state of being. We are living like baby is a ticking clock and seeing where life takes us on maternity leave. I am definitely still planning on obtaining a different job after hopefully a decent paid maternity leave.

we are still struggling with feelings displaced and housing prices have us depressed. My husbands going through the post military motions.

weather has been getting warmer. We did spend a day at Gatlinburg all yesterday. I got a little sunburned. My other days off have been spent having one or both or our vehicles in and out of the shop or at appointments. I'd like to get maternity photos taken but I suck at planning and I saw myself in the window of a store yesterday and I felt I finally looked a bit pregnant. Like I feel like I just am not making a bump and that makes me wonder again if people are lying and drastically posing in maternity shoots.

We were trying to plan maybe a trip to Nashville or Washington DC (husband really wants to go), I have a 3 day weekend coming up. I just dont have a lot of free time for long trips like I used to because I'm banking PTO and working alot. I need to make a dental appointment before baby comes as we have dental insurance again. I'd also like to visit the hobbit village and the Biltmore in Asheville at some point. My husbands stressing I may not be able to walk long distances like in DC and he might be right..I honestly don't know..

I made a baby registry but I honestly don't think I get a baby shower and I'm just not good at organizing things or know anybody who'd be interested. My mother made me a baby quilt thats doing fabulous on social media so thats really nice. Right now I'm just eating, sleeping and working and pushing off anything else until the last moment.

I do know in the future my husband really wants a camper and he really wants to travel. So we gonna drag this child all over the country seeing stuff. I don't know about permanent residence though.

We just taking things day by day.

[princessvelaryon]

My Finalized WIP List

DC Comics - Jason Todd:

Old Ghosts - Your high school sweetheart Jason Todd died when you were both fifteen years old. You are now twenty years old and have spent the past five years simply existing. Wanting to find some closure on your past or maybe feeling nostalgic and missing him, you moved back to Gotham and transferred to Gotham University for your junior and senior year of college. Lately, you have been noticing that a strange figure in a red mask seems to be everywhere you are. Should you be afraid? Angst and Smut

House of the Dragon - Jacaerys Velaryon, Cregan Stark, Benjicot Blackwood

House Sitting - During summer break from college, Jace’s family goes to their summer home for their annual week long family vacation. Jace decides to stay behind in order to house sit and he invites his best friend to help him. Things quickly spin out on control in the best way possible. Friends with benefits (sort of), mutual pining, idiots in love, miscommunication. Smut. Jace x Female Reader. 7 part miniseries, one chapter for each day of their vacation.

Champagne Wishes - Jace and his female best friend steal a bottle or two from his parents wine cellar. Snippet from House Sitting. Smut. For @vividxpages

Untitled Vampire Jace Series - In your freshman year of college, you fall for a mysterious student. You two instantly connect and you feel as if you have known him forever. Multi-chapter series. Thanks to Harry’s Taiker Magazine photoshoot. Iykyk.

Thinking of You - Your childhood and high school sweetheart and ex-boyfriend Cregan unexpectedly shows up to your engagement party to talk to you one last time before he has to watch you marry another man. Non-linear storytelling. Flashbacks. Smut. Desperate Cregan. I thought about doing alternate version with Jace and Benjicot but I had to start with Cregan. Inspired by the song “Thinking of You” by Katy Perry.

Another Taste - Snippet from my Vampire Jace AU. Sequel to Fresh Blood. Smut.

The Ghost in the Back of Your Head - 

Jace x Baela series. Featuring Luke x Rhaena. Can be read as a series or on their own. 

The Abyss - Baela and Rhaena’s long lives after Jace and Luke. Jace x Baela, Luke x Rhaena, Mentions of Baela x Alyn, Rhaena x Corwyn Corbray, Rhaena x Garmund Hightower

I’m Always Watching Over You, Even if You Cant See Me - Jace watching over Baela for the rest of her life. Him messing with Alyn every once in a while can’t hurt. 

When I Get to Heaven - Jace and Baela have a reunion after many, many years apart. Jace x Baela

Watching Over You/The Least I Can Do For You - Jace hates seeing the way Alyn treats Baela. He cannot do much from where he is, but he messes with Alyn in any way that he can. I probably will change some of the titles

NSFW Alphabets - Jace, Cregan, Benjicot

Modern boyfriends/husbands headcanons - Jace, Cregan, Benjicot

To The Stars - Jace takes you flying with him on Vermax for the first time. Inspired by the film Titanic.

Hands - For the first time, someone shows Jace just how beautiful his hands are and you are lucky and honored that it is you.

A Welcome Distraction - Jace has been busy at the library lately and you help him relax, much to his stress and delight.

Just Like Honey - Jace wants to try something with you for the first time. Smut. Inspiried by the song "Just Like Honey" by The Jesus and Mary Chain

Another Taste of Honey - You return the favor. Sequel to Just Like Honey. Smut. Inspired by the song "Honey" by Mariah Carey

Stress Relief - You are stressed over school and finals and not taking care of yourself properly. Jace wants to help you relax in the best way he knows how to. Smut

Hair Care - Jace teaches you how to care for his curls the way his mother used to.

I See You - Jace saves you from making a permanent drastic decision. Inspired by the film Titanic.

Summer Air - You and Jacaerys enjoy the summer sunshine. Freckles, sunburns, tanning, swimming. Smut.

Night Swimmers - After a little too much to drink, you decide to jump in the pool. Jace decides to watch over you. Smut. Inspired by the song "Night Swimmers" by Foals

There’s Something About Cregan - Jace is jealous of your budding friendship with his best friend Cregan and you help him understand that he has no reason to be jealous. My attempt at comedy. 

Grief Comes in Waves - Cregan x Jace’s sister. You and Cregan bond over the loss of your younger brothers.

Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf? - You and Cregan attend a Halloween party dressed as Little Red Riding Hood and the Wolf. Cregan has trouble resisting you in your sexy costume. Smut. Hint: I got inspired by Tom Taylor always making TikToks in that damn mirror of his. For @jacaerysgf when we would roast Tom for his dirty mirror.

Gentle Giant - Your betrothal to Cregan Stark is a welcome surprise but you are extremely nervous to meet him after hearing tales of his wild and brutish nature. However, Cregan is a secret softie, much to your surprise and delight.

Winterfell Hot Springs - You and your new husband Cregan take a dip in the Winterfell Hot Springs. Smut.

Winterfell Hot Springs: Jace version. - Jace and his wife visit Winterfell together for the first time. They take a liking to the caves around the hot springs. Smut.

Teach me - Jace x Female Reader x Cregan. You and Jace are both complete virgins and you want to lose it to each other but you have no idea what you’re doing. You two enlist your best friend Cregan to help give you guys advice in a rather unconventional way. Smut.

A Teacher - Jace x Female Reader x Cregan version 2.0. Alternate version of Teach Me, and sort of sequel. In this version, Cregan is a little more hands on. Smut.

Vanilla Spice - Benjicot x Female reader smut. For @earth4angels

Teenage Kicks - From your childhood to your teenage years, you and Benjicot have always had a rivalry of some sorts, messing with each other in equal measure. Now teenagers, you realize that things might not have been what they seemed. Modern Benjicot x Female reader. Non-toxic enemies to lovers, light enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers, idiots in love, miscommunication. Inspired by the relationship between Robert and Scott from the 1995 film Now and Then. Also inspired by the song "Teenage Kicks" by The Undertones.

Birthday Blues - Everyone forgot your birthday, except for Benjicot Blackwood. You thought he hated you since he teased and annoyed you mercilessly but he might surprise you.

In Wonderland - After bad experiences with men, your classmate Benjicot takes you out for a wild night of fun and teaches you how to let loose, have fun and enjoy life. Benji is a manic pixie dream boy. Might be a long one-shot or a miniseries. Smut. 

Mixtape - Benjicot makes a mixtape for his crush in order to win her over. 

Ebb and Flow - You and Benjicot weave in and out of each other’s lives for years.

I’ll Crawl Home to Her - After the Battle of the Gullet, Jacaerys is presumed dead. But his body was lost at sea. Or was it? 

As You Wish - The Princess Bride inspired AU. After the Battle of the Gullet,

Jacaerys is presumed dead and you are in mouring. Years later, you are abdubted by the man who killed him. 

OR

After Lucerys is killed above Shipbreaker Bay, his betrothed mourns him for years. She ends up unwillingly betrothed to another but feels bound by duty and knowing that her true love is dead. One day, a mysterious masked pirate kidnaps her. 

Labour - You are betrothed to Jacaerys Velaryon, the crown prince, the Prince of Dragonstone and heir to the iron throne. He has been nothing but a gentleman to you upon your arrival, making sure you settle into your new home. While you are polite and courteous, you remain cold and distant and Jace is determined to find out why. Inspired by the song "Labour" by Paris Paloma.

The Dragon and the Wolf - Jace x Female Stark reader. Jace x Cregan’s sister reader. Targaryen men love their Stark ladies. 

Sweet Jace - Drunk dancing in the kitchen and serenading Jace with an old song makes him fall even more in love with you, if that was even possible. Inspired by the song "Sweet Jane" by Cowboy Junkies.

It Should Be Me - Jace is jealous. 

Green Eyes - You are jealous of Benjicot’s past.

Double Date - You go out on a double date with Benjicot Blackwood, his cousin Aly and her girlfriend Sabitha. The only problem? You didn’t realize it was a double date. 

Untitled Biker AU - Inspired by Sons of Anarchy. You return after years away to your ex-boyfriend and first love, who you know will always protect you. Can’t decide if this will be Jace, Cregan or Benjicot.

Untitled - Vermax and Jace’s betrothed have a closer bond than everyone realized, even Jace himself.

Untitled - Jace’s wife is kidnapped by an enemy fleet and it is up to Jace to rescue her. 

Untitled - You are Cregan’s sister and have been in love with Jacaerys for your entire life. Jace x Female reader. Inspired by the song "She Will Be Loved" by Maroon 5.

Untitled - Benjicot Blackwood has had a crush on his classmate for years but he has no way to properly communicate that to you, so he annoys you endlessly. Or does he?

Various ideas:

Taking care of drunk Jace and vice versa

Modern AU's for Jace, Cregan and Benjicot

[stabbyfoxandrew]

mer au?

WIP Wednesday (4/9) | Mer Roadtrip AU (Part 130)

What actually transpires is far more hilarious. 

The very first 'act' involves people on horses roping cows, as Andrew had suspected. But one unfortunate fellow falls off his horse and apparently forgets to let go or is tangled in his lasso, because he gets dragged around by a bull until the other cowboys grow enough balls to go help him out. Neil doesn't laugh as loud as Andrew, but it's obvious he thinks it's funny too. They both get dirty looks from people in the stands around them, but Andrew pays them no mind. If watching a man get pulled like a plow through a million piles of cow shit isn't funny, what is?

The rest of the event seems pretty standard. The whole 'last eight seconds on a rampaging animal' thing happens at least a hundred thousand times, which isn't very funny. It just makes Andrew wonder about animal cruelty laws in this state. When everything's said and done, Andrew has a sunburn on his face and Neil's got twenty less dollars in his pocket. But it was a decent way to waste an afternoon, Andrew thinks, especially because they had cotton candy for some reason.

The next time they get into the car, they check over the atlas to find the best route back towards the east coast. Neil draws various lines with his finger until he finds one he likes better than the others, then he takes out a pencil and marks it more permanently. Andrew memorizes it to the best of his 'give a fuck' and Neil folds the page down before closing the book.

"If we take turns driving and sleeping, and only stop for gas and food, we can get you home in just a couple days." Neil says with confidence. Andrew blinks at him.

"Neil, we have nearly two-thousand miles to cover."

"Yeah. But it's doable," Neil tells him. "If I drive eight hours while you nap, then we swap. Mom and me used to do it like that."

"Your mother is dead." Andrew reminds him perhaps a bit cruelly. Neil's expression dips into unhappy territory, but before he can reprimand Andrew for his callousness Andrew adds, "Besides, I'm not in a hurry. I don't even know if there's anyone for me to come back to. This might all be a waste of time."

Neil's expression doesn't clear. If anything, he looks even more upset at that idea. "Don't say that. I'm sure there's something to go back to."

"Then it's agreed, we'll drive for reasonable amounts of time and sleep in hotels when we're tired. Yes? Good. Okay." Andrew says, though Neil has clearly not agreed. He doesn't argue though.

"Sure, whatever you want." Neil answers. Andrew notices his freckles are more prominent now and resists the urge to start counting them since he thinks he'd never finish.

[dootznbootz]

Can I be for real? I hate when people hate on Circe/Kirke for being morally gray >:( Because all the gods are to an extent. Also I think the saying "You can like her as long as you acknowledge she's a bad person" doesn't really work because you could say that for all the gods. I think it's better to say "You can like her as long as you don't try to justify her actions" because that's what most Circe/Female god fans do. And it's so double standard-y I hate it >:( NORMALIZE LIKING CHARACTERS WHO ARE BAD PEOPLE WITHOUT TRYING TO JUSTIFY THEIR ACTIONS BY MAKING THEM VICTIMS. Especially when there are ACTUAL victims in the myth. Circe wasn't trying to protect herself. She's a goddamn goddess and a daughter of a titan. If she truly felt threatened she would've done something more permanent/serious to them. And if she was a male no one would he saying she was just trying to protect herself or something! I get there's a lot of misogyny in Greek Mythology but Circe is a GODDESS, she's above mortals. If Odysseus had to eat a MAGIC DRUG to defeat her that what could've the other soldiers done???

That's one of the reasons I really hated the Circe Book. It just feels so icky when people try to justify the shit she did. Like boo don't. We don't try to justify Zeus' actions. We don't try to justify Apollo's actions. We don't justify Calypso's actions (Or at least we shouldn't). We don't justify Theseus' actions. Because we shouldn't! So don't justify Circe's either >:((((((

Lmao sorry this kind of turned into my own little rant- Anyways do you have any Circe headcanons/shenanigans? I love my old ass mean witch wife 👉👈

And have a great day too, Mad! :D

All of this!!! Yes! Great points!!!

And that's the thing! You can be a fan of two different characters even if they're at odds or one has hurt the other! I do NOT hate Circe at all! Did she traumatize my special lil freak, Odysseus? Yeah. He's in therapy (AKA Penelope's arms). I still don't hate her!

And I absolutely agree with the whole "I just wanna protect my nymphs!" being kind of silly. It's fine, but I prefer her just being selfish in that moment (at least in my writing. There's more to it but I HAVE A PLAN!)

For headcanons/shenanigans, I'm...trying to be a bit more "stingy" with them, as for 1.) I really love my Circe and she's very special, and 2.) I've...honestly been doing too much into headcanons and not as much into actually WRITING. ;~; Which is what I really WANT to do. So I'll give a few basic silly ones that I'm okay with sharing. :D

1.) Circe has a habit of saying words twice. Like "Oh, oh", "My, my", "Yes, yes," etc. She has that habit from her papa :3 (I really love Helios lol. I wanna have him visit Aeaea during the year Odysseus is there just because I can lol) Once, though, Hermes pointed it out and teased her about it so she's a bit embarrassed and tries to not do that. (it slips out)

2.) She is basically her own lil sun. (not as much as Helios ofc, but yeah. enough) You can't look her in the eyes too long as it's basically like looking at 2 mini suns. If you're a mortal and sit close to her, you may get a sunburn. (she has mostly dryad nymphs working for her because it's a bonus to get extra sunlight.) It's kind of nice when making potions to be very warm so then she can hold it for a while and it'll warm up.

3.) She's kind of a behavioral psychologist/researcher in a way?? (putting my own field of interest into my shit lol) She much prefers the company of animals and immortals. She thinks humans are neat but she sees them more as something to "study". She does not see them as equal in a way. She also finds humans to be a lil gross. Being as warm as she is, mortals tend to sweat if they share the same room as her for a while and...Ew :') (Fun fact: Odysseus is a very sweaty dude, so... yeah. "I'm putting up with this because you're handsome and I want to study you.") It's part of the reason WHY she turns them into "cuter furred creatures". Also cats like laying in sunbeams!!! :D She's so warm! (Odysseus' men were to feed her pets eventually)

4.) She tends to laugh at her own jokes.

5.) Her and Artemis have beef because her having her pets run amock on Aeaea is fucking with it's balance in nature xD basically a bunch of big cat/wolf predators being introduced and what's naturally there can't keep up.

Some other stuff would give spoilers and some are not safe for wormlings so yeah! :D I hope this is good!

You have a great day too, Dear anon! Thank you! :D

[chicken2potato]

7/7/23

Death.

It seems to be a subject in which is tiptoed aound and not talked about. But it has been on my mind a lot in the past few weeks. 

What is it like? What comes after? And the reverse, what was before? Why am I living this life? Why was I not someone from years ago or years from now? What is the significance of everything? Of anything? What’s the point of going to the beach? What is the point of getting sunburned? What is the point of getting high? What is the point of getting a degree? Of getting paid? What is the point of anything? Why are we here? What is consciousness? Why did I get this one? 

Population: 485. A book that I am reading currently. It talks about the death that he sees while he is an EMT and volunteer firefighter. It’s got me thinking a lot about death. When will it happen? Who will cause it? Me? Or someone else? Or something? Do I have another forty years or a mere forty days? What will happen when it all ends?

I grew up religious. They say that Heaven is the next step. Being with Jesus and God and the angels and the prophets and all those before. For all eternity. But what is eternity? How can a human mind comprehend such a thing? 

And what if it’s all wrong? Religion. What if it’s all man-made because there were men who couldn’t handle the immense questions that we have? What if they made it all up to give themselves and the one’s closest to them peace of mind? What if it snowballed from there and then billions of people believed them? Why are so many religions convinced that they are the right one, the true one? What makes it true? Has anyone died, come back, and gone “Yep, we were right. Yahweh is there.”? Or “Yep. God is there waiting.”? Or “Yeah, you get reincarnated to another life.”? Who says that those are true when in reality we don’t really know. 

They say believing in Jesus takes faith. I believe that’s true. But I also think that it takes faith to believe in science. Especially for everyday people who don’t have advanced science degrees and just read things out of books. You have to have faith that the person who wrote that book, wrote that article, had the knowledge and wrote the truth. I think it is the same with religion. You have to have faith that the people who wrote the Bible were writing the truth. 

I’m not sure if I believe anymore. 

I want to believe. I want to have that comfort that I had just a few years ago. That when this all ended, I would go to Heaven. I believed that with every fiber of my being. But now? I don’t know what to believe. I have so many questions and I hate that they go unanswered. I hate seeing the hypocrisies in religion and it making me lose my faith. 

There are days that I want to go back a few years ago. When I believed. When things were simpler. Go to college, go to work, tell people about Jesus, and do what was right. It was so much easier being naive and blocked off from the world. Sometimes I hate that I came home. I hate that I started to question everything. I can’t take this anymore. I just want it to stop. I just want to know the truth. I want to know what really happens and what is really there. 

Death is so weird and wild to me. Just as much as living is, too. Earlier this week, the president of the company I work for passed away. It was so strange to hear about and even stranger because he had just been in our store the week prior. He was seemingly healthy. He was happy and friendly. He was nice. He was here. And then he wasn’t. Death doesn’t wait for anyone. Death doesn’t show pity. Death consumes. Death takes. Death is permanent. He will never be in our store again. He will never smile again. He will never see his family again. He will forever be gone. 

Wilda was crying when she told us. She said that it made her think of her own family. It made her think about that fact that it could happen at any time and at any place. She’s right. Death doesn’t wait for us to become comfortable with the idea. Death takes when Death wants to. I know a girl who died the week before her senior year of high school. I know a girl who died the first day of her junior year of high school. I know someone who died at forty-six with advanced stage cancer. I know someone who died at eighty-two because of COVID. I know someone who died at sixty-three after a decade long fight against cancer. Or I suppose knew. The point is, Death doesn’t discriminate. No matter the age, he comes. No matter what our life’s ambition is, he’s there, waiting. No matter what. 

Mk was in a terrible car accident at the beginning of this year. Phyllis had a stroke and drove the car off the road, hitting an embankment. Anthony broke his arm in three places. Mk smashed her face off the seat and broke her back. Phyllis broke her back and I believe her sternum. Mk had to be life-flighted to the hospital because of the severity of her injuries. 

When I first got the call, I was on my way home from work. It was just any other day. I had a good day at work, and I was about to head home to take a nap because I was going to go back in and close that night. My friend, Dyanna, called me. At first, I thought that she was calling because she wanted to hang out. Then she said those words... “Mk and Ant were in a car accident.” There were a few hours when I didn’t know what had happened. The only information Dy had was that Phyllis was in the hospital, Mk broke her back, and we didn’t know about Ant. I thought Ant had died. And if Ant had died, that meant that it was a bad enough car accident where there was a possibility of the other two also dying. 

I had just been to her house. The night before. Dy, Hannah, Mk, and I all went to the gym and then went to Mk’s until like one in the morning. I had just seen her. I had just heard her voice. I had just given her a hug. I had just heard her laugh, seen her smile. And now, I didn’t even know if she was alive. 

I didn’t know what to do. I was exhausted and we didn’t have any information, so I decided to take my nap like I planned, leave my ringer on, and see if there was any news when I got up. When I did get up a few hours later, there was no news. I didn’t know what to do. My plan was to go for errands. So, I did. What else was I supposed to do? I started thinking too much when I was on the highway, and I started bawling while driving. I didn’t know if my best friend was dead. What if she was there, watching me do all my errands?

I’m so incredibly grateful that she is okay. I don’t know what I would do if she had died that day. She wouldn’t have been there for me when my car died. She wouldn’t have been there through the mess with Rowan. She wouldn’t have been with me when I got my first tattoo. She wouldn’t have been there for when I didn’t have a job. She wouldn’t have been there for when I finally got another one. She wouldn’t have been there. She would have been gone. I would have to go through all of that alone, and so many other things. My future wedding. My future kids. My future accomplishments. I don’t know what I would have done if instead of visiting her in the hospital, I was visiting her grave. What would it have been like to show my first tattoo to a stone block? 

Death doesn’t care. 

We’re all a second away from death. One decision. 

At work, while working the exit door and scanning people’s receipts, I always ask them how they’re doing. Today, it broke my heart. 

“Hey there, how are you doing?” “Oh, not that great, to be honest.” “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. I hope things get better for you.” “Well, I don’t know. I don’t really want to have to bury my son.”

What. The. Fuck.

This was a man who was maybe in his late thirties. So how old was his son? Ten? Five? It doesn’t really matter. It’s shitty. He told me that the cake on the bottom of his cart was for the funeral and so was everything else in his cart. I felt so bad for him. He did say that Sam’s Club gave him the cake for no charge, which I thought was really sweet. In the midst of all the sadness and grief, there’s a small amount of goodness. 

Life is so sad to me. Because who at the end gets all our memories? Do they die with us? Who will know what my favorite state is? Who will know what my pet peeves are? Who will even care? Life is sad, because it ends. What’s the point in me having this apartment and having this cat and typing on this computer if it’s all going to end? Should it just end now? Why drag it out for so long? What’s the point in anything? What’s the point in life? Death?

I don’t want to feel this way. I want it to stop. But I don’t know how to get it to go away. I don’t know how to feel good, feel happy, again. 

I went to Old Orchard Beach yesterday. I was in the ocean, just floating with the waves and thought about it all. Here I was, a tiny human, in such a vast ocean. If you would have dropped me in the middle of the ocean and flew away, would you even be able to find me again? I’m so small. I’m so feeble compared to it all. Compared to the world, the universe. I was standing, letting the waves crash into me. With every wave, I was tossed back and forth. No matter how much I tried to have solid footing, I always moved. The waves would move me back, and the undercurrent would bring me forward. If water has that much of a pull on me, then how strong am I really? When Rowan and I were together, he would tickle me, and it would turn into tickle fights. I would fight to get him to stop, and he would fight to keep tickling me. On multiple occasions, he made the statement that I was so strong. I could grab his arms and push him back with much more ease than if he were to try it on me. But, standing there in the ocean, being knocked back and forth by the waves, got me to thinking about it. Was I really that strong? Were any of us really strong? The strength of humans is no match for the forces of nature. I am just simply a weak, scrawny, unimportant human. So why would my death even matter? Because someone would be sad for me? Because people would grieve me? In one generation, maybe two generations, I would be a forgotten memory. Just another leaf on the family tree. What significance is that? 

How do I make these thoughts go away? How do I sleep at night again? 

What is the point of anything anymore?

[ghost-bxrd]

*GASP* are you trying to beat me with my own weapons? I’m shocked! Impressed, but also shocked!

On that note:

Once more the tags are trying to hide some of the best parts ksksks

But yes absolutely, Bruce having flexible morals would, objectively, turn everyone’s world view upside down. Bruce? Ok with killing? Doing the killing HIMSELF!? Well, obviously! While we all love and adore Alfred, I think it’s safe to assume that he didn’t have a good idea on how to handle Bruce’s grief and destructive behavior after his parents’ death. Yes he loves Bruce like a son, but he never truly allowed himself to become the parental figure Bruce so desperately needed and instead remained a butler more than anything. (An awesome butler who would absolutely burn the world for Bruce, but still.)

Jason has no such qualms. yes, the kid lost his parents a couple months ago and the amount of trauma he’s been through is nothing to sneeze at, not to mention the anger issues, but Jason is also someone who adores kids and isn’t afraid to demonstrate it with hugs and endless patience and home cooked meals etc.

The beginning of their acquaintance is an absolute roller coaster, but Bruce quickly learns that Jason is now his one, irrevocable constant in life. And it helps that his new adoptive dad guardian knows how to disarm someone pointing a gun at them in .1 seconds flat. Jason is now his role model.

And Jason, who would absolutely die thrice over to keep this kid safe, the kid who curls up beside him on the couch like a skittish kitten seeking affection, who asks him to teach him self defense—- the moment Bruce expresses his desire to rid the world of the Joker permanently, Jason just blue screens.

On hand— this is what he wanted. This is all he wanted since the moment he woke up from his dip in the Mountain Dew of doom. On the other hand it’s all wrong, because it’s the wrong Bruce trying to avenge him.

“So what? You can barely sleep at night. You almost got knifed because you lost sight of me during patrol for two minutes and thought the Joker had me. This needs to stop. We’re making him go away for good.”

(And on that note I’d like to tell you how much I loved the “this is an intervention, let’s go kill the Joker ourselves” part. Like, peak dialogue. Genuinely delighted.)

Jason, who is not gonna let his kid within twenty kilometers of the clown, goes to Arkham and shoots Joker and that’s that. It’s not what he wanted when he came back, but he finds that just the knowledge of one incarnation of Bruce willing to kill for him is— enough.

Also let’s add Mini!Bruce deliberately antagonizing his older counterpart during patrol. He’s furious on Jason’s behalf and he needs an outlet. Batman telling him that “it’s ok, we can keep you safe. Hood won’t hurt you anymore-“ and mini!Bruce just roasting Batman so hard the Anakin-on-Mustafar situation seems like a light sunburn.

Also, Robin and mini!Bruce rivalry. That’s all. Need I elaborate?

Omg ok this turned into an entire rant I’m so sorry 🪴

Prompt:

Jason gets booted to another dimension and adopts a recently orphaned Bruce Wayne.

Whom he also takes along for the ride when he’s pulled back into his own dimension.

[senseless-writing]

Unforgiving Anxieties

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x wife!reader

Summary: Rooster has to leave again, which isn’t something new. But this time, he’s leaving his wife with a baby at home, and Y/n isn’t sure if she can handle the stress that comes with parenting all by herself.

Warnings: Small spoilers for Top Gun: Maverick. LOTS of angst, but plenty of fluff to back it up

A/N: WOAH. Not the Witcher, and not an OC? Who am I?? Idk guys, but this has been on my mind for days, so I just had to write it. Let me know what you think :)

Masterlist

----------

Rooster thought he would have more time before his work pulled him away from his family again. Truly, he did. But things never worked out the way you wanted them to, and such was even more true for aviators in the US Navy. 

Still, it never got better. To kiss his wife goodbye, hold her close, and promise “yes, baby, I’ll be safe,” “no, honey, I won’t put myself in any unnecessary danger,” was harder than any dogfight he’s ever been in. She’d pretend not to cry, he’d pretend not to notice, and he’d always leave with the same thought in the back of his mind that maybe, just maybe, flying wasn’t worth leaving her time and time again. 

But then came Elijah. And for a while, at least, things were different. 

Elijah Nicholas Bradshaw was the light of his parents' lives. Nearly six months old, no baby was more doted on them him. With a closet full of mini Hawaiian shirts to match his daddy, and an unlimited amount of affection from Y/n, the kid seemed to have a permanent smile on his face. Rooster even had to upgrade his phone to unlimited storage to make room for all the photos he took. 

But paternity leave for the Navy was only twenty-one days. Eventually, he had to go back to work, and it tore him apart to leave every day, even if he got to return at the end of the night. It was hard, almost indescribable, but manageable. 

Until now. Things were different now. He’d been called back to Top Gun without so much as an explanation as to why he had to leave his wife and half-year-old baby, other than the small detail that it was most definitely a dangerous mission. 

He could’ve said no. Should’ve said no. But then he thought of his father, thought of how close he got to having him back whenever he was in the air, and remembered why he loved doing what he did. So instead, the Bradshaws went through the motions yet again. Except this time, Eli was in his mother's arms as Rooster said goodbye. 

“Please be safe,” she mumbled against the crook of his neck, the pair clinging to one another on their front porch. He could feel the subtle drops of tears against his skin, but he pulled her closer and pretended not to notice. Elijah giggled at the feeling of being squished between his parents. 

Rooster pressed a rough kiss to his wife’s head. “I will.” 

“And keep me updated,” she spoke quickly, her words full of anxiety. “I know most of it is classified, but I just want to know-” 

He gently pulled her away from his chest, cupping the sides of her neck to angle her face towards his own. “Breathe, baby,” he sighed, urging her to do the same. His thumbs brushed across the apples of her cheeks to rid them of tears, though he knew it was a futile attempt. “I will tell you everything I can, okay? I promise.” 

His wife nodded up at him, her tears mixing with the fear and despair and pride and something he couldn’t recognize swirling in her eyes. 

Rooster cracked her a smile, a dull sort of chuckle falling from his lips. “Hey,” he whispered against her lips. “No crying for me, baby. It’s just a classroom. The only thing I’ll suffer from is sunburns and acute boredom.” 

It was a lie, and they both knew it. But it brought out a watery laugh from his Y/n all the same. 

When she was done laughing, and he was done admiring her, the look on her face was something akin to determination. “Here’s what's gonna happen,” she spoke to him softly. These words were only for him and their little family of three. “You’re gonna go, and you’re gonna learn whatever it is they think they can teach you. And then you’re gonna complete this super-secret mission that everyone wants to pretend isn’t happening. And when it’s all said and done, you’ll come home to me. To us. Got it?” 

This was the wife he knew. Strong and fearless and overly demanding. 

He loved it. 

“Yes ma'am,” he said with a smile, still holding her face close to his. 

After a moment, he decided to move on to the baby in her arms. Eli, ever the mama’s boy, grumbled a little about the movement, but quickly settled against his father's chest. Rooster was immediately pressing kisses to his cheeks.

“And you, my little man. Are you gonna be good for mama while I’m away? You have to, being the man of the house and all. You gotta look after our girl.” 

Y/n tucked herself into his side as she watched, and Rooster wrapped his free arm around her. 

“Don’t grow too much while I’m away,” he whispered into his son’s ear, and that made Y/n laugh softly again. 

“It’s only a couple of weeks, Roos.” 

“Babygirl, he’ll be six months by the time I get back. I’m missing a milestone.” 

“There’ll be more.” 

Rooster wasn’t sure if he liked how casually she said that. As if the idea of him not being there for every important moment in their lives, of him missing the memories worth making, was something she’d already made peace with. But he didn’t have too much time to dwell on it, not with her practically shoving him towards his running car. It felt like forever, and it felt like seconds, them saying goodbye. But time passed, as it always did, until he was driving away with clenched fists and a heavy heart. 

He didn’t regret his job, and he knew his wife didn’t either. But sometimes, none of that mattered. 

It still sucked. 

----------

“You look like you haven’t slept in days, honey.”

“Wow, Roos, you really know the way to a girl's heart.”

“You’re always beautiful, Y/n, but you know what I mean.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” she sighed, brushing some stray hair away from her face. The bun she wore wasn’t holding much at this point, and though her eyes were still sparkling as they normally did when on a face time call with her husband, the bags underneath them were hard to miss. “Well, you’re not completely wrong. Eli is supposed to be sleeping in his own room from now on, which means I spend most of the time in there instead of in bed.” 

Rooster shifted his phone from one hand to the other with a concerned look on his face. The tip of his nose was burnt from the San Diego sun, and Y/n couldn’t help but smile at how cute he looked. “Is he not sleeping well?” 

“No, he’s sleeping fine. It’s me who can’t settle down.” 

His eyebrow lifted in question, and Y/n let out another sigh. 

“I just have this feeling,” she admitted, somewhat embarrassed. “That if I’m not watching him at all times, he’ll stop breathing. Which is irrational, but I literally can’t turn my brain off. I won’t sleep even if I do lie down, so I might as well watch him.” 

Rooster immediately felt horrible. Worse than the 200 push-ups he’d been forced to do last week, or the uphill climb Mav was teaching them. It was like he had one job, one real job, and he wasn’t able to do it. 

“Y/n,” he struggled to find the words. 

“I know, I know. It’s stupid.” 

Another punch to the gut. 

“I should be there. It’s a tough transition, and meant to be a two-person job.”

Her eyes were all-knowing, and what Rooster wanted more than anything in the world was to drown in them. “You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.” 

“I’m supposed to be with you,” he said with a pout. 

“You will be,” she giggled. “In a few weeks from now, when you’re done doing whatever it is you're doing. Maybe by then, I’ll be a little more chilled out.”

“Stop saying that. It’s okay to be nervous. Can’t you call your mom, see if she’ll watch him for a bit so you can sleep?”

“I could…” she seemed unsure, and Rooster rubbed his face in discomfort.

Something told him his wife wasn’t being completely honest with how much this was affecting her. She didn’t trust anyone with their son that wasn’t herself right now, and he feared she would run herself into the ground before asking for help. And he wanted to offer it. He wanted to say that he was there for her, that he would help her in any way he could. 

But he wasn’t there for her, and he couldn’t help. So what was he to do, other than offer useless words?

“Please just try, baby, okay?” he said instead, hoping whatever he said would be enough. “Your mom's great, and I’m sure she’d love to spend some time with Eli. Just have her promise to wake you if anything seems off.” 

Her nose scrunched at the idea, but she nodded all the same. “Alright, I’ll give it a shot. Does that ease your mind at all?” 

“I was hoping it would ease yours.” 

“You’re impossible, Bradley Bradshaw, do you know that?” she rolled her eyes at him.

“Impossibly in love with you, Y/n Bradshaw.”

She laughed at him for that. A full-out belly laugh that shook the camera within her grasp, and Rooster couldn’t help but laugh with her. He thought she was absolutely stunning when she was like this. Carefree and happy and amused by something stupid he’d said. And, with utmost certainty, he knew he’d continue to make a goddamn fool of himself for the rest of their lives if it kept her this way. 

“I miss you, baby,” he said once their laughter died down. 

“What, your flying buddies aren’t good enough company?”

Rooster thought of Hangman, an ultimate pain in the ass with all bark and no bite. And he thought of Pheonix, who picked on him for fun, and Bob, who almost seemed to not understand the meaning of the word. 

They were his friends, and he loved them. But they weren’t his wife. 

“Nobody’s better than you, sugar bear.” 

“Ugh, you know I hate when you say that.” 

“I know,” he teased. “I just wanted to see your face scrunch up like that when I did.”

“You know what Bradshaw? I’m going to bed.” 

“Promise?” he said with a somewhat serious edge to his voice. 

She smiled up at him. “Mhm, it’s straight to dreamland for me. Eli’s already asleep, and I checked on him right before you called.” 

The angle of her phone dropped to focus on the baby monitor at her side. It was a grainy picture, but the view of his son's wild sandy hair as he slept peacefully was enough to make Rooster’s heart soar. 

“Alright, baby, I won’t keep you then. I love you.” 

“I love you too. Be safe, okay?”

“I will.” 

----------

It would be two more weeks before Rooster was reunited with his wife. As soon as he landed (rather roughly) on the carrier, he was calling her to let her know that the mission was over, and he was on his way home. She asked how it went, he said “as smooth as a car crash,” and she laughed and laughed until tears were slipping from her eyes. 

The reunion itself, despite the seriousness of the situation, wasn’t nearly as tearful as one may think. In fact, they never were when it came to the Bradshaws. Goodbyes were miserable, but hellos were all smiles and laughs and dancing in the kitchen to music that wasn’t there. And at the end of the day, they ate dinner on their back porch and marveled at their son, who was too busy rubbing dirt on his face to notice how happy his parents were. 

But with the night came anxiety. They put Elijah to bed together, with the baby in Y/n’s arms and Y/n in Rooster’s. It was everything she’d wanted for weeks, but it couldn’t ease her aching heart. When Rooster directed his wife to bed, she couldn’t help but worry. 

Her brain wouldn’t turn off. 

Rooster could feel it throughout the night. Every 45 minutes or so, even with his consciousness muddled by sleep, he noticed her slipping out of bed. Quietly, as if she didn’t want to wake him, but that didn’t matter. He was attuned to his wife’s every movement, even in sleep. Which meant that every time she pulled herself out of his arms to go check on their son, he layed awake, waiting for her to return. 

It was the fifth or sixth time that he finally decided to say something. 

“Honey?” he said groggily, pulling her back against his chest when he felt her move to get up. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothings wrong,” she whispered back. “I just want to make sure Eli’s okay.” 

“He looks fine, baby, see? On the monitor, he’s sleeping like…well, like a baby.” 

Y/n didn’t laugh at his joke, barely even cracked a smile. Her hands were still gripping the comforter, itching to stand and check for herself. Rooster couldn’t think of the words to ease her mind, not when he knew they didn’t exist. He wanted her to rest, and there was only one way she would. 

“How about I go check on him, hm? You stay here, and I’ll make sure everything’s alright.” 

“No, no, no, that’s okay, I can just-”

“Y/n,” he shushed her, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “I’m back now. You don’t have to do this alone anymore. Let me go check.” 

She nodded to him as he rose, though he could tell she wasn’t fully convinced. With light feet, Rooster padded across the carpeted floors, all the way to the room across from theirs. White noise echoed from the crack in the door, and he pushed it open slightly to slip into the room. 

He was immediately drawn to the crib in the far corner. Before he could realize it, a smile was spreading across his drowsy face. His perfect boy was fast asleep, sprawled on his back with arms and legs strewn haphazardly around him. 

Y/n said that Eli slept as he did. Rooster always pretended not to agree with her. 

He laid his hand flat on his son's chest, the baby still so small that it nearly covered him entirely. He could feel Eli’s chest rise, up and down and up and down. It was smooth and easy, and although Rooster hadn’t been worried for a second, the small part of his brain still relaxed at the feeling. So he leaned down, pressed a soft kiss to his chubby baby cheeks, and made his way back to their bedroom. 

He found his wife sitting up in bed as she anxiously watched the monitor. “He’s all good, baby,” he reassured her, climbing in bed and moving the monitor back to its rightful place on their bed stand. “Let's go back to sleep.” 

She let out an uncomfortable sigh, as if she didn’t completely believe him. He reached out to her, then, and pulled so her back was to his chest. “Come here, come here, come here,” he chanted softly, and she giggled at his foolishness. “Please sleep.” 

She pushed herself deeper into his arms as he pressed kisses to the back of her head. “Okay,” she relented. Rooster could feel her settle, and God in heaven, he hoped she stayed that way.

But she didn’t. 

With Rooster asleep, Y/n was left alone with her thoughts. It started slowly, at first. Little pricks of anxiety that spread through her brain like vines on a tree. But little by little, it grew. It grew until her fears were the only things she could think about, and even the arms wrapped around her waist weren’t enough to pull her back to Earth. 

Instead, horror stories flooded her brain. Fears of SIDS cases after six months, of waking up to a blue baby and realizing it was her fault they lost the one thing that meant more to them than anything else in the world. Because she was the mother, she was the one who should know when something was off, right? 

She could feel it in her soul, right down to the aching heart and burning skin. It was that sense that everyone tells you about, the sense that alerts you to a disturbance in your child. Her baby was alone right now, alone and scared and hurting because something is most definitely wrong. 

Y/n tried to pull herself from Rooster’s arms. Who cares if he checked less than ten minutes ago, because I’m the mom and I know my baby needs help. But the man was just too goddamn persistent, even in sleep, and had the muscles to back it up. So if he wanted her to stay put, that’s where she would be. 

She was quickly running out of patience, though, and so was her anxiety. Her chest was heavy with dread, her airway closing as panic began to run its course. And suddenly, it was no longer I need to see if my baby is okay, but instead, I can’t breathe I can’t breathe I can’t breathe I can’t breathe. 

“Rooster,” she wheezed, squeezing his wrist where it lay firmly on her stomach. 

The man didn’t so much as flinch, and Y/n tried again to grab his attention. “Bradley!” 

Her nails were digging into his skin at this point. That was what awoke him first. However, he quickly noticed the quivering mess that was his wife in his arms. “Woah,” he struggled to understand what could have happened in the short time since he fell asleep. “What’s wrong, what happened?” 

Rooster sat up to get a better look at his wife’s face. It was covered in tears and flushed from what seemed to be a lack of oxygen, a look that he’s seen hundreds of times on panicking aviators. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air as she tried to explain, but all that came out were desperate sobs. 

“Please,” she breathed out, and he shushed her as best he could. With his arms, with his lips, and with his words; he wasn’t sure what other kind of comfort he could offer. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay. Take your time, breathe, and tell me what’s wrong.” 

She cried harder again, and he cradled her head close to his chest. 

“You’re going to make yourself sick, baby. Relax,” he nearly begged her. He felt like cold water had been dumped over the both of them with the way they shook. Her with fear, and him with confusion. “Everyone’s okay.” 

“No!” she burst out through quivering lips. “No we’re not, Eli’s not okay! I need to see him right now, Roos, something isn’t right.” 

“We just checked on him-” 

“You checked on him! I need to check on him! Please, please just help me. I need-” 

“Wait here,” he said suddenly, springing from their bed. 

Y/n called after him, wanting to follow, but her legs were too shaky to stand. She wasn’t used to feeling this helpless; had never allowed herself to. But now, with anxiety plaguing her in a way it never had before, the invincible strength of “military wife” was collapsing around her like a fragile house of cards. 

By the time Rooster rushed himself back to their room, his wife was lost to a puddle of tears and exhaustion. He couldn’t quite describe the hazy look he saw in her eyes, and wasn’t sure if he’d be able to ease it. 

But maybe Elijah could. 

“Here honey,” he hushed in a frantic tone. “Look for yourself. He’s perfectly fine, see?” 

Y/n’s shaking hands reached out to hold their now wide awake son, but Rooster was admittedly nervous that she would drop him. So instead, he simply raised the baby closer to her chest, moving until the three of them were huddled together on the bed. 

It was easy to see that Elijah was confused as to why he was now awake. His cute little eyebrows even furrowed in child-like confusion, an expression that his parents would laugh at for years to come. But the poor boy never cried. His patience was a mystery to all. 

Rooster used the arm that wasn’t holding Eli to tuck Y/n’s head against the crook of his neck. He breathed deeply, hoping that it would encourage her to do the same. Her arms clung to him and the baby nestled between them, and her trembling failed to cease, even after 20 minutes of him pressing soothing kisses to her temple. 

“Y/n?” he whispered softly, lips still pressed to her head. “Can you hear me?”

He knew she was barely settled from a panic attack, and wanted to make sure she was coherent enough to understand his words. He also didn’t want to rush her or force her into anything she wasn’t ready for. 

Y/n nodded. A small movement, but one he was able to catch. Her eyes were still firmly locked on the rising and falling chest of their child. 

“Y/n, this isn’t normal.” 

“Maternal anxiety is a part of motherhood,” she said to him in a hoarse, monotone voice. 

“But debilitating anxiety? That’s not healthy, honey.” 

Y/n didn’t respond. At least she was calming down a bit, which Rooster thought was a start. Her breaths were still shaky, but more even than before, and her hands finally relaxed over his own. More than anything, he wanted to know why she was so nervous. Why this fear, which was normal for most parents to have, suddenly became something that plagued her every waking moment. 

He didn’t have to wait long for the answers he sought. 

“Elijah is the best parts of us,” Y/n said after an excruciating minute of silence. “The very best parts.” 

Rooster could wholeheartedly agree with that. At only six months old, Elijah was kind, compassionate, and stubborn as hell. He’d always thought it was impossible for babies to have that much personality in such a small period of time. In fact, in the past, whenever parents described their kids in such detail, he was sure it was all a figment of their imagination. But now, he saw firsthand how special these little ones can be. 

His wife looked up at him, then, with anguish still in her eyes. “But more importantly, he’s a part of you.” 

That threw him for a loop. 

“What?” he whispered, running his fingers up and down her spine in what he hoped to be a soothing gesture. 

“Every day, Bradley, you run off to who knows where to risk your life doing something that you love. I’ve always supported you in that, never asked you to stop. And I never will, because every time you go after something you want, with that fire and willpower that I love so much, I’m always incredibly proud of you.” 

Rooster knew that. More than anything else in the world, he knew that. 

“But I can’t,” she sighed, looking away, before meeting his gaze with something new on her face. Acceptance, perhaps. Or maybe a lack thereof. “I can’t keep you safe. Protect you. I can’t be sure that when you go to work, doing what you love, you’ll come back to me at the end of the night. And I think that every time you walk out that door, it kills me a little more inside.” 

That hurt him more than he wanted to admit. Not because he felt she wasn’t supporting him, in a way, by being afraid. Quite the opposite, actually. He felt horrible that his wife thought the only way to truly support him in advancing his career was to hide the thoughts from him that kept her awake at night. 

That wasn’t to say they didn’t have these conversations before. There were plenty of nights, in their early years of dating, when they stayed up and talked about every thought and fear that entered their minds. The thought of him not returning was painful for both of them, for different reasons of course. But when danger was a part of the job, and relaxing moments were few and far between, it was easier to laugh and kiss and celebrate life than dwell on the parts of it they couldn’t change. 

Maybe it was easier to pretend. Or maybe, at times, they weren’t pretending. But it was a blurred line, and it was one the couple had learned to ignore a long time ago. 

He laid a kiss on her quivering lips, only because he couldn’t find the words to say. She let him, and they sat like that for a moment. Not quite kissing, but simply with their lips pressed gently together. Breathing in the same breath, foreheads leaning together as if it was the only thing keeping them upright. Elijah was already asleep again, peacefully in his father's arms. 

Y/n pulled away to whisper her next words to him, as if they were a confession she wasn’t quite ready to make. “But I can protect this baby.” 

Her thought hung in the air, and Rooster ran it through his mind over and over again until, oh god, he hated himself a little more for realizing what she meant. 

“I just feel like I have no control over my life anymore,” she cried to him. She couldn’t look at him anymore, too focused on the baby in his arms. Rooster wasn’t sure if he could look at himself either. “I have no say in whether my husband stays or goes, no control over whether my child has two parents or one. I can’t even control my own fucking emotions, for Christ's sake.” 

She wiped her tears away with a sharp swipe across her face. Rooster wanted to tell her to stop, to be careful with the face he loved so much, but she had more to say, and his voice was still firmly lodged in his throat. 

“But if I watch this baby, if I just watch him and make sure he’s alright, then I can be sure I always have a piece of you with me. I can be sure that a part of you lives on if…if everything I love falls out of my control.” 

And like a dam, Rooster broke. Tears streaming down his cheeks, he leaned forward to hide his face in the crook of Y/n’s neck. Seeking for comfort he didn’t deserve, for comfort he should have been providing. But his wife wrapped her arms around him without question, which only made the tears flow faster.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked, the movement of his lips pressing butterfly kisses against Y/n’s collarbone. 

“Don’t be. Please, I don’t want you to feel guilty. I never did.” 

“I’m not feeling guilty,” he reassured her. “I’m just…sad.” 

He smiled up at her with tears still on his face. It was a small, insignificant smile, but he wasn’t surprised to find that she was already doing the same. It was a silly confession. In most cases, the word wouldn’t at all fit the occasion. 

Sure, there were better ways to put it. He was anguished at the fact that his wife, his beautiful, radiantly happy wife, was straining under the burden he’d put on her shoulders. He was embarrassed that the mother of his child was sometimes forced to do the job of parenting for the both of them. He was overly torn between his love for flying and his love for his family. He was enraged that he had to choose at all. And he was terribly afraid that the life he’d chosen for himself would doom Y/n to the same fate as his mother, who never truly recovered from the heartache she faced at the hands of his father.

But most of all, he was just sad. 

“I love you,” he said, because it was the easiest thing for him to say. 

She rested her head against his own, which was still on her shoulder. “I love you too.”

“I know I can’t tell you to not be afraid. And I know…I know you won’t let me step down.” 

She was objecting before he could continue. “You worked so hard to get where you are, Bradley, I won’t let you slow down now. You’ve already lost years of your career, and even if you and Mav made up or whatever, you can’t just-”

“Breathe, baby,” he reminded her. The last thing they needed was for her to have another panic attack all over again. 

She huffed, clearly annoyed at him, but obliged. Rooster fought off the urge to laugh at her stubbornness. 

“I don’t know how to fix this,” she admitted at last. “I can’t…these nerves are eating me alive. It’s never been this bad before.” 

Rooster lifted his head from her shoulder to cup her face with his free hand. Their faces were both red and puffy from crying, though he didn’t care about that. Not with the exhaustion still clear in his wife’s eyes. She leaned into his touch until he was nearly holding the entire weight of her head in the palm of his hand. 

He’d hold her whole world in his arms if she asked him to. If she needed it. 

“You don’t fix this,” he said with the sweetest look on his face. Y/n practically melted. “I do. And that starts with you getting some sleep.” 

He watched, in real-time, as panic spread across Y/n’s entire face. Her hands tightened their hold on his wrists as if to pull Elijah closer to herself. Rooster immediately shushed her quietly. 

“I know, I know,” he whispered, allowing her to pull the baby closer. She leaned down to press her already trembling lips to Eli’s forehead. “But you need to sleep. Anxiety only gets worse with sleep deprivation.” 

“Is that something you learn in pilot school?” she mumbled cheekily against the baby’s head. 

“Yes, actually, it is.” 

Y/n didn’t reply, though the ghost of a smile spread across her lips. 

“Come here,” Rooster beckoned, sliding until he was completely leaning against their bed frame. With his legs fanned out in front of him, and baby pulled to rest comfortably against his chest, he gently urged Y/n to lay with her head against his lap. She was hesitant, but obeyed, and once she settled, he wrapped their comforter tightly around them both. “We’re gonna stay right here, Eli and I, while you rest for a couple of hours.”

“What if you get tired, or fall asleep? You just got back from a mission, Bradley, you should be resting.”

“I don’t need it, baby,” he said honestly. He was fine with lying awake and holding his two most important people in his arms. “What I need is for you to get some rest. But if I feel like I might fall asleep, or if there’s anything wrong with Eli, I promise I’ll wake you.” 

Y/n didn’t seem convinced. 

Rooster tried again. “Honey, if he so much as hiccups, you’ll be the first to know. After me, of course. And if you wake up throughout the night feeling afraid, we’ll be right here to show you that everything’s alright.” 

He ran a hand through her hair, down her back, and up again. She finally closed her eyes, an act that was somehow full of reluctance and relief at the same time. “This isn’t a permanent solution,” she mumbled, though she was already rubbing her face against the soft fabric of his sweatpants. 

“We’ll deal with that later,” he reassured her, all the while continuing to rub calming circles on her back. “When we both have more leveled heads.”

Perhaps Y/n wanted to argue. Maybe the words were even on the tip of her tongue. But by the time she opened her mouth to speak them, sleep had already taken over. For the first time in weeks, both mother and son were peacefully sleeping, unable to be plagued by the fears that came with the life they lived. 

And Rooster was more than content to see it.

[socheckitout-mikey]

If you’re still doing the outsiders, could you maybe do some hcs for Dallas going on his SOs family vacation? You can pick the location idc

ahhh this one was v interesting! i hope you enjoy reading what i came up with. i had sm fun writing this and all the chaos that exudes lmaoo. thanks for requesting! <3 - mae

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Dallas Winston Going on His S/o's Family Vacation Hc's:

° Let’s get one thing straight, Dally has never been on a vacation in his life. So when your parents suggested inviting him along, he thought you were just pulling his leg. No one’s parents had willingly wanted him to attend anything with them.

° “Man, you’re just shittin’ all over me today, aintcha?” Dally half grinned at you, a Coke in his hand as he sat across from you in that diner.

° “Naw I’m bein’ serious! They wantcha to come-,” You grinned at him.

° “Forreal?”

° “Forreal!”

° He’s in awe when he realises that you’re being straight with him. There’s no funny business going on. Practically has a permanent grin from ear to ear, man!

° Whether it’s to another town, city, state or country, he’s stoked!!! Feeling high as a kite on pure adrenaline, because let’s face it, Dally loves a good adventure. He’s not shy about exploring places and uncovering whatever kind of fun the environment has to offer. He’s like a bloodhound, getting into everything that he probably shouldn’t, but that doesn’t deter him! He’s Dallas Winston!

° Dally’s in his element okay? He enjoys the trip, making the most out of it. You remind him to be on his best behaviour, but he’s got that twinkle of mischief in his eyes, “Okay, sweetcheeks,” he grins. Oh boy does he make you regret saying those words!

° He does his best not to do anything in front of your parents that could get him arrested – especially in another country. The “don’t get caught” rule he has with the gang still applies. Yet, Dally’s gonna swipe a few good things from the hotel room.

° “Babe, what do you need a goddamn towel for?!” You snap at him, hands on your hips.

° “Have you ever showered at Bucks? Those towels are like goddamn sandpaper!” He retorts back with a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. “Let me live a little here!”

° “They’re gonna charge my parents-,”

° “To hell they will!”

° “Is that shampoo?!”

° “Quit lookin’ through my shit, snoopy!”

° Chaos ensues because it’s Dallas lmaoo!

° He gives the cleaning lady a fright one morning by prancing out of the bathroom butt naked. Y’all heard the screaming from down the hall. You know because Dally’s hardly clutching a towel around his waist as he watches the lady sprint down the hallway, “Next time knock, grandma!” followed by his characteristic hyena laugh.

° He smokes in his room – or at least with the window open. He doesn’t care about hotel policies. He thinks they can kiss his ass for all he cares. You reprimand him a few times about it, but he just sasses back, “I got the window open don’t I?” before pulling you into his lap on the chair he’s sitting in by the window.

° If y’all are somewhere tropical, he gets the worst sunburn of his life. And he thought Oklahoma was bad? Fdsijfhdusjfsdji you’re highkey a big shit and five star his back. Let’s just say he chased you round the pool and threw you in once he caught you.

° Dw he flushes the toilet when you’re showering as further pay back.

° Tries to fight a guy who gave you the bedroom eyes when you were in your swimsuit. Broke his nose and everything! Surprisingly your dad was on his side.

° Speaking of pools. If there is one, you bet your ass Dallas is in it. It’s probably how he acquired his sunburn. He’s also cannonballing into it whenever some rich uppity family’s are lounging round pool side. It’s a masterpiece, I promise!

° I cannot tell you how many times you and Dallas got drunk asf! Ya’ll probs shouldn’t have, but Dallas is a natural at acting not drunk: You on the other hand… not so much.

° Can’t forget how many times Dallas sneaks into your room at night. Whether it’s an elaborate pathway to your door or scaling up the side of a building – both of which almost result in his imminent death. He’s a daredevil and will do it all! He’s soft for you deep down, just wants to spend some time with you when no one else is looking. Just so he can be himself: He’s still an asshole though ndufjdsdjk.

° “Y’know it’s kinda cool you took me along,” He grins against your hairline.

° “Only kinda?” You giggle against his neck.

° “I’m takin’ points off for five starin’ me on day two.”

° “You’re just bitter coz you got roasted before me.”

° “Hey, that toilet over in the other room’s kinda lookin’ like it wants your face in it.” He laughs, only half meaning his threat.

° “Oh, to be swirlied by Dallas Winston!” You gasp, sitting up straight and putting a hand on your heart, “I’m so honoured!”

° “You’re so goddamn dramatic.” He laughs, patting your thigh. “Don’t make me follow through to shut you up.”

° “Is that a promise or threat?” You grin, leaning closer to him.

° “Only one way to find out…” He murmurs against your lips.

° Can't forget the golden moment when Dallas put a tie around your doorknob as a prank, which resulted in your parents grounding you bc of the deeper meaning bcfuiebifcihcbieyfby. That's what you get for trying to stop him stealing that ultrasoft bathrobe from his room.

° Even if it’s somewhere cold, Dallas doesn’t care! He’ll be snowboarding, skiing and doing whatever else! Even instigating snowball fights. You’ll catch him with melting snow dripping from his beautiful hair, slipping down his forehead as he beams brightly. Looks younger too, less hard and rough. That’s your Dallas.

° You guys have a lot of cute moments, especially walking off in your own direction at the end of the day. You guys will go for some cokes at a local restaurant, maybe some food. His eyes are alight, and although he isn't the softest, you can tell he loves you in his own way. It's his actions that shine brighter, but they can be hard to miss. If you don't realise, his kisses will seal the deal!

° If there are horses, cars or bikes involved, he's in his element. Probably being risky too, which makes you freak out ngl! He's fine tho, and a little injury won't deter him either. Though you remind him, it's a vacation, not a date with death!

° By some miracle, Dallas manages to keep the forbidden things he does behind everyone’s back and doesn’t get caught. He comes away with some souvenirs and interesting stories to give to and tell the gang when he returns to Tulsa. Even they note how happy he is – buzzing to be exact!

° Dallas doesn’t just bond with you, but also your family. Maybe everyone else doesn’t like him quite the way that you do, but they see a different side to him that they don’t get to see back home. Like how Dally didn’t pick on your younger sibling as much or opened the doors a little more for your mother. This vacation benefits everyone positively.

° Maybe it even makes Dallas believe that the world isn’t so rotten. That some people actually see the good in him that he believed had died out so long ago. He doesn’t really outright thank you for taking him along, but you see it in those mischievous eyes: Gratitude. If Dallas Winston could love anybody, it’d be you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

please like, reblog and follow for more!

requests: closed!

[snippychicke]

For the Sake of a Smile (v.2) Chapter Five

Title: For the Sake of a Smile (Revised)

Overall Rating: Mature (18+)

Chapter Rating: E for Everyone? Some violence, but not much

Trigger warnings: Nothing beyond the child abuse hinted in the series, though we do explore the consequences a bit more.

Main Pairing: Balam Shichiro/Reader

Summary: Hell on earth was your motto for your job. Granted, you were pretty sure earth really was hell, considering the shit you had seen in your life. And the fact your coworker was a child. 

A child named Suzuki Iruma, in fact. A kid who’s life was decidedly worse than yours, but yet he smiled despite everything. It wasn’t long after meeting him that you decided you’d do a lot for his smile. Including summoning a literal demon and signing your soul away.

But as it turns out, hell (The Netherworld, actually) was a lot better than living on earth. Demons were more humane than a lot of humans you knew.

And Iruma’s smile wasn’t the only one that would change your life.

Masterlist | Ao3| Mairimashitai! Simps Discord

Walter park was in ruins by the time you and Sullivan arrived. Three beasts continued their rampage amongst the wreckage, easily towering over everything else. A red dragon, a blue minotaur, and then a yellow rodent-like monster. None of which you had read about in your studies of your new home so far.

“Where do you think Iruma is?” You asked, clinging to Sullivan as he flew closer. Despite carrying you carefully in his arms, all traces of the genial old man you were beginning to call 'dad' were gone, leaving a serious persona you presumed his enemies had to face. 

“Usually I can sense him, but those monster’s mana are making it difficult,” He answered, before explaining further without prompt. “Those are summoned beasts, with mana stemming from multiple individuals. It's like a fog of mana covering the whole park. making it hard to pinpoint anything from this distance. Especially someone whose own, natural, mana is as weak as Iruma’s.”

“Damn it,” You growled, clutching at the fur of his suit. “What are we supposed to do then?”

“Well, I can pick out Opera, Kalego, and Balam. They're high-ranking enough that their power stands out amongst the fog.” He sighed, “And of course, each of them are near one of the monsters. I’m confident in each of their abilities…”

“Balam!” You interrupted, remembering he had texted you stating Iruma’s phone had died. Maybe Iruma was with him!

Sullivan was silent for a moment, no doubt contemplating your words and his next actions before sighing. “Okay. But, if you’re going to be near those things…” Something shifted, and it wasn’t just Sullivan as he suddenly descended. You recognized magic swelling around you, wrapping around you like a cocoon before black marks appeared along your body, stinging like a bad sunburn as they appeared on your skin. “There. That should keep you safe.”

You studied at the harsh, sharp lines, twisting and curling around your limbs, marked by runes in open patches. “Please don’t tell me these are permanent,” You groaned. Yes, there was alway that rebellious desire for a tattoo, but not like this. And definitely not across your whole body.

“They’ll fade after a few hours,” Sullivan reassured as he touched down on the ground, helping you to stand on the broken concrete. “It’s old magic I learned from a friend, that someday I hope to teach you since Runes are one the few types of magic that humans can use. After all, it’s how you first summoned me.” He smiled slightly before pointing towards the red dragon rampaging not too far away “Now, Balam is near the carmine dragon. I’m going to go towards the panther rat since that’s where Opera is.”

“Wait!” You grabbed his hand as he went to take off again. “You really think it’s safe to split up like this?”

“I wouldn’t put you in danger if I didn’t know you could handle it,” He reassured with a soft smile, patting your cheek. “You’re well defended, but who’s to say Iruma has that same guarantee?”

His words stirred that fire in your heart, and you let go with a firm nod. You could trust Sullivan. Besides, you weren’t completely sure that Iruma was with Balam, or if he was with one of the other groups and Balam was just relaying the message.

Hopefully, if he wasn't with Balam, he'd be with Opera. 

You weren't sure if it was the magic or your frantic desire to see your adopted son safe and sound that gave you the boost of energy. You ran across the debris, the path becoming more rocky and treacherous the closer you got to the rampaging dragon. You soon met demons fleeing the other way, though thankfully none tried to stop you.

"--children, can you believe that?"

"--not even their own, why?"

"--crazy, all of them. I mean--"

"--blue hair--"

The last comment made you skid to a stop and turn towards the demon who had overheard. "Wait! What about blue hair?!"

The demon looked startled by your intense expression. "Uh! Well! A group of children were trapped, and some boy with blue hair swore he was going to rescue them! Even though it has nothing to do with him!"

That was Iruma, alright. And you didn't know if you were proud, worried, angry, or all three at the same time. "Where?" You snapped, grabbing his shirt.

He pointed shakily towards the dragon, and you continued your run without another word. It wasn't long before you were caught in its massive shadow as the dragon towered less than a few meters away, still causing chaos without an apparent target.

Then a blast lit up the sky, making you falter and instinctually cower. You glanced up at the sky, stomach turning as you recognized the blond and pink haired demons in the sky above you.

Sabnock and Asmodus.

And wherever Az was, there was Iruma.

"Az!" You screamed up at the pair. "Sabnock!"

You not only garnered the two students' attention but also the dragon's. It roared as it twisted towards you, its claw a blur as it swept towards you.

Oh. Fuck. You didn't know what else to do but brace for the inevitable, hands protecting your head. The massive paw struck like a raging bear.

A bear you somehow withstood. Knees shaking, arms trembling as you felt its claw press down, but the only thing that buckled was the concrete itself. The runes burned, making you hiss, but it was minor compared to what it would have been like otherwise.

Like being squashed to death. Instead, you were stuck at a standstill, sandwiched between the ground and the dragon.

Could you push it back?

You screamed with determination as you pushed against its scaley claw. You didn't exactly push the dragon back, but shifted the claw enough it slammed to the ground beside you causing a tremor to shake the ground.

The dragon apparently didn't like the fact it was unable to crush you, and roared again…except now its mouth was filling with white-hot flames. Even as Asmodeus and Sabnock tried to distract its attention away from you, their familiars now by their side, you feared you had pissed it off too much.

Would the runes protect you against that? Or would they fail? You looked for shelter, but everything nearby had been reduced to piles that had no place for you to hide.

The fire crackled like a raging wildfire, giving you a brief warning to brace one more time for the inevitable.

Except there was a gust of wind instead of fire, The flames roared around you, casting off intense heat but otherwise harmless, the familiar swell of mana casting over you much like Sullivan's. You opened your eyes, and saw nothing but a dark shadow before you.

Eventually the blast faded away, letting you see more than a shadow as Balam glanced back at you, his expression indiscernible.

"Hi," You breathed out, more than a little stunned by the impressive display. "T-thank you."

“What are you doing here?” He finally spoke, sounding frantic and worried. “How? Why! Do you realize how dangerous it is right now?”

“And you think I could stay away when Iruma is in danger?” You shot out of reflex moments before the dragon roared. You could barely move as the dragon fired a blast once more, but Balam's reflexes proved quick enough as he pulled you close, a cocoon of magic wrapping around you the same way his arms were.

“I suppose right now isn’t the best time to argue,” He admitted, barely audible over the flames despite his mask brushing against your hair.

“Agreed," You replied, fighting the invasive thought from being so close. Instead of being warm, he felt nice and cool, shading you from the heat.

“Now that the children are safe, I’ll step in,” He continued, “but you should take cover with the boys over in that building.”

“Sounds like a plan, just…” You paused, looking up at him, meeting his gaze. "Be careful, please." You wanted to blame the adrenaline for the odd thumping of your heart as he gently touched your face. It was a very brief moment, yet felt far more significant than any touches in the past.

“You too,” He finally spoke as the flames died. “Now, run.”

You didn’t look back as you sprinted towards the half-demolished building. Your heart lightened when you saw Iruma waving at you. Him, Agares, and half a dozen small kids meeting you near the entrance.

“Mom!” Iruma crashed into you with the same intensity you crashed into him. “What are you doing here?! Are you okay?!”

“Am I okay? Are you okay!” You pulled away to check for any injuries, though found nothing more than some mild scratches. The boy did have inhuman reflexes at dodging, but it still felt like a heavy boulder was lifted from your chest as he gave you a smile.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He said, glancing towards the others. "We're all okay, I think."

Once you were satisfied he was unharmed, your attention moved to the other kids. Agares was fine, if looking mildly annoyed that he had to share his cloud with the young children. All of which looked terrified, still covered in dirt, a few scrapes but nothing serious. Still, that maternal instinct urged you to clean the dirt off their faces. “Are you kiddos good?”

“Yeah,” They each sniffed, nodding their heads. You smiled reassuringly as you fussed over each one, checking for yourself for any injuries. More than a few ended up silently clinging to you, desperate for a reassuring touch. 

"Iruma!" You looked up to see Asmodus and Sabnock approaching, the taller demon looking like he had taken the brunt of one other dragon's fire attacks. Iruma tackled Asmodus in a hug, and you shifted your attention to the golden haired demon.

"Are you two okay?" You asked, wishing you knew more than the basic first aid for small cuts and minor burns. Or maybe just first aid for demons. You weren't sure if what you knew applied to them, considering every human you knew would be near death looking like Sabnock, but the teen was (mostly) upright and grinning.

"Yeah, we're fine!"

"Liar! Neither of us can barely walk!" Asmodus shouted from behind him, still holding Iruma tight. "Let alone use any kind of magic right now!"

"Yeah, but we're alive aren't we? And so is Ms. Suzuki and the kids Iruma saved! And we looked absolutely cool while doing it!"

Relief washed over you in a brief moment as the two bickered, and you could see Iruma's smile reflect the same emotion. Agares groaned and grumbled about the two being too loud, and the children just watched with stars in their eyes, as if meeting real super heroes.

Though, in a way, they were. All of them.

And you couldn't be any prouder.

The earth rumbled again, cutting your thoughts short. You feared the red dragon had set its sights on your group again. But instead, a second dragon now stood guard between the shelter and the scarlet beast. The new dragon looked more like a creature that dragged itself from the depths of a swamp than an actual dragon, with a mane like seaweed from head to tip of its tail.

And, barely able to be seen, was Balam hanging down from vines that seemed to make up the dragon, using his clawed feet to hang on.

"Is that Professor Balam’s familiar?" Iruma asked with the same awe you felt.

"Actually, I think that’s Nigyul," Asmodeus answered. "I've heard rumors that Professor Balam had a Nigyupnil dragon as a pet named Nigyul. Nigyupnils are related to the nigi-nigi weed, except they grow with mana instead of water. They're nearly impossible to find, and I admit, until now I thought the Professor taming one was just a rumor."

And until now, you hadn't really seen Balam as the demon he truly was. After all, he was so nice, so kind, so eager to learn, and hardly seemed to want to harm anything or anyone.

But as you watched the two dragons fight - Nigyul easily overpowering the carmine dragon - you realized that there was definitely a powerhouse behind his usual demeanor.

But, also, you realized that you weren't quite in a safe place as Nigyul wrapped vines into the other dragon, causing it to begin to thrash violently. The surrounding buildings shook as if an earthquake had hit, rubble once more raining down. "Let's get out of here before something happens," You urged, helping Sabnock despite his reluctance.

You expected the tussle to last a while, especially as the carmine dragon used its fire breath. Except the fire seemed to pass over Nigyul as harmlessly as it passed over you and Balam earlier. Nigyul shaked off any embers that managed to catch its mane before he lunged forward, tackling the carmine dragon and digging in his claws, teeth, and vines.

The carmine dragon's roar of pain was choked off a thick bundle of vines. Its massive maw snapped at the air, claws pinned to keep it from scratching at the noose. It took a minute before the dragon started to waver, slowly collapsing onto the ground - as if in slow motion - before landing heavily.

Still, Nigyul waited, making sure the beast was well and truly dead before releasing his grip.

You were stunned by the display as Nigyul shrank rapidly, Balam landing gracefully on the ground, with Nigyul in his hand, no larger than a small kitten.

Minutes. Minutes is all it took for Balam to topple the dragon. You had felt the power of the dragon itself crushing down on you, nevermind the evidence of its destructive power was in the ruins of the amusement park surrounding you.

Yet, for Balam and Nigyul, it had seemed no more than a minor opponent.

Iruma, Sabnock, and Asmodeus soon crowded around the tall professor expressing the same sentiment, professing how 'cool' and 'powerful' he was.

 It was amusing to see Balam flustered, his face pink but obvious that a smile was hiding behind his mask. He looked over towards you as Asmodus and Sabnock started to argue once more, something changing in his gaze. 

You ignored the flip-flop of your stomach as you took your turn to approach the hero of the day.  "That was amazing,” You offered, feeling unusually shy. You were fully aware everyone else had said the same thing, but still, you felt like you needed to say it. 

And even then, it didn’t seem to do justice to what you had witnessed.

"Thank you," He said, rubbing the back of his head, face still darkened by a blush. "Though, I hope no one was hurt by any flying debris when the carmine dragon was thrashing around…"

"Not a single pebble hit anyone, as far as I know," You reassured, your attention drifting to the dragon in his hand. Without really thinking, you reached up to brush its wet-looking mane. It looked so cute with its tail twisting around his thumb, reminding you of an opossum baby holding onto its mother. "I can't believe this little cutie is the same beast that took on that dragon with little effort."

The small dragon sniffed your fingers carefully before headbutting them, reminding you of a cat demanding to be pet. And well, who were you to refuse the chance to pet an actual dragon? The main felt soft and damp, while his hide felt both pliable but firm, rather like the body of a vine. 

"Nigyupnil dragons feed on magic. The more magic for them to consume, the more they grow. While in the wild the largest they usually achieve is that of a hellcat, Nigyul can grow far more massive when linked to my mana." Balam explained, easily sliding into professor mode before catching himself. "But more importantly, how are you here?"

You were about to explain the rapid flow of events when two flashes of light caught your eye. You barely realized the carmine dragon itself was starting to glow when Balam shifted his stance, standing between the magical beast and everyone.

"Stay back!"

--+-- Su-Ki-Ma --+--

Opera was surprised when Lord Sullivan landed beside them, watching as Ameri fought the panther leopard. "Lord Sullivan? What are you doing here?"

"I saw the newscast and was worried about my precious grandson!" The demon lord answered, pouting slightly. "How could I stay away when my precious Iruma-kins was in danger?"

That made sense, but only very superficially. "Iruma is with Balam's group." And Sullivan should have been able to pinpoint exactly where the human was, considering both the magic of the Gluttonous Ring and the cologne masking the human scent of Iruma was easy enough to follow.

"Oh, I know," Lord Sullivan confirmed with a smile and went as far as winking at his security demon "But I have every faith the white gargoyle of Babyls can protect not only Iruma, but maybe impress my dear daughter some more while doing so."

Opera smiled faintly, their hands clasping together as their tail twitched with glee. "Oh? So Operation: Matchmaker is a go?"

"Absolutely!" Sullivan agreed with a clap. "Oh you should have seen the way she was smiling at his messages today!" Sullivan pulled out his own phone, showing the feline demon snapshots of you smiling at your phone, happiness evident on your face. "Those two are going to be so cute together!"

"Indeed they will be, sir," Opera readily agreed. They were happy that they had possibly found someone appropriately suited to be their kohai's mate; someone who wasn't perturbed by his skinship habits, or intense love of learning about anything that breathed.

You had accepted Balam's quirks readily, and even appreciated them. Opera even dared to hope that you were beginning to love him even for the supposed flaws.

Hopefully, you wouldn't be scared off by his physical quirks either. It was easy to tell you found the professor attractive, but you hadn't seen his scar yet either - or the rest of his demon nature.

"Speaking of which," Lord Sullivan interrupted Opera's silent musings. "Have you figured out which of these lovely demons have a thing for our little Iruma?"

"I'm pretty sure all of them, sir. Though Master Iruma continues to be oblivious."

“I’m glad they can all appreciate how wonderful my grandson is! Though, I have a feeling Asmodeus will be giving them a run for their money.” Lord Sullivan smiled as he watched Ameri land the final blow. “To have the honor of seeing the next era of the Netherworld develop right before our eyes, Opera, is going to be more fun than I thought it would be.”

[spacedustmantis]

i've been enabled

so 'code name: genesis' is the world i've been tinkering with for like. over a year now. it centers around the crime group genesis that aims to tackle discrimination and systematic suppression through less than legal means. also there's superpowers.

i spent a shit ton of time on the in-universe terminology surrounding the whole superpowers thing. first off powers are called aberrations (officially and colloquially, even though there are other words used in casual situations), and there's two kinds: the more active ones, the ones the you use/activate/whatever (think invisibility), and the ones that you just happen to have running in the background (think superhuman strength). usually the latter are much weaker, but don't excessively drain energy the way the former ones do.

alongside the obvious effects of having a literal superpower, aberrations have another effect: every aberration comes with a physical and/or visual representation on the person's body or in their immediate surroundings. some are easily covered up or overlooked, others aren't.

people with aberrations are legally called "aberrant persons" ("ap" for short) but the term "curio", originally a slur, has been reclaimed and is now widely used as the correct term for a person with an aberration.

curios are heavily discriminated against, and their aberrations are commonly seen as a disability/curse that should be "cured". hence the popularity of aberration reversal procedures (arp). a procedure to "cure" an individual of their aberration is extremely risky, and a lot of people end up with chronic headaches/migraines, memory loss, in some cases hallucinations, etc. all in all a pretty shitty thing to put someone through. especially when they are 11 years old and literally cannot refuse. which is 100% legal btw.

genesis focuses mainly on countering the discrimination curios face, discrediting corporations/individuals who are openly anti-curio and/or spread hateful and harmful propaganda, etc.

with the basics of the world out of the way, here's our main cast:

Tanya, 22, she/her, bisexual lesbian

aberration: physical enhancement

her aberration allows her to boost a physical feat of her choice; strength, speed, faster healing etc. she can only enhance one feat at a time. there is a certain level of enhancement always present, but if she chooses to push herself further that drains energy.

with the enhancement comes a subtle sheen to her skin that can be explained away as sweat or makeup pretty easily.

name assigned by the press: red panda

tanya is the designated fighter of the group. she's very protective of her little group, and a huge mom friend. she's also dumb as shit, but very sweet. major himbo energy

she and johnny started the group, though they weren't officially a thing until later.

she's stayed more or less the same in my head but i didn't find a good picrew back in the day. i gave her glasses and curly hair. also changed her eye color. and now she's got permanent sunburn! huge win in my book

Johnny, 19, he/they, questioning but definitely on the ace spectrum

aberration: charm

works like most other charm powers in media. johnny can charm a chosen amount of people, but the more people he wants to affect the thinner he has to spread this effect. if he wanted to, and targeted only one single person he would technically be capable of brainwashing people. like many other aberrations using it takes energy.

due to his aberration his irises are an unnaturally vibrant shade of pink (ignore that they have purple irises in the picrew, it was the closest i could get to it)

they have no name assigned by the press since he works mostly as the intel gatherer or distraction and hasn't been tied to any of the group's activities.

johnny is a huge mama's boy. too bad his mom is unbelievably sick and he's had to provide for her for ages, hence why he dropped out of school and turned to a life of petty crime. also their mom is definitely gonna die at some point. sorry

look at that glow up!! i turned him from a pasty, sickly white boy into a fucking hot nerd! i gave them a sense of fashion!

Santiago, 17, they/ae, lesbian? (the question mark is essential)

aberration: rift walker

this one is a bit more of a tricky one. think portals/teleportation mixed with astral projection. or something. basically they can step into a different "plane" in which their body is invisible and intangible to the rest of the world and enter at a different point. ae moves super quickly through this space (think nether vs overworld in mc), so from the outside it kind of looks like very slow teleportation. when in this other plane ae is on a timer though. after about thirty seconds in this plane it starts to get painful. if they were to stay there for too long they would die. as a side effect from all the rift walking ae has pretty consistent headaches.

the way this aberration manifests physically is that their hair and clothes are always kind of floating a little bit as if under water.

name assigned by the press: ghost

santiago is the rouge type. sneaking around, doing lots of stealing etc.

ae joins tanya and johnny after they're caught stealing soup from them. that's when the three of them realize they could do crime for a good cause. genesis is born.

santiago is one petty bitch. they were bullied in school years and years ago and to this day swear revenge on them. ae also got abused heavily (physically and emotionally) when their parents found out about aer aberration. it takes a little bit of a learning curve to get them to use aer aberration properly. they used to keep their hair short to hide the floating, but ae've been encouraged to grow it out by their friends.

not much changed with this new picrew, i mainly wanted to make them look a bit scrappier. also not really apparent in either picrew, but they are a heavy eyeshadow/eyeliner type of guy

Rye, 17, any, unlabeled

aberration: knock-out touch/death touch

yeah, it's exactly what it sounds like. she touches someone, they fall unconscious. the more juice it gives it, the longer they stay out. a side effect of this is often a level of brain damage, and if ey overdo it ey could kill someone (on purpose or by accident)

the aberration colored her fingers and palms charcoal black. he also wears gloves fucking everywhere

name assigned by the press: reaper

not willing to use its aberration rye mostly sticks to fighting but is also a pretty well rounded jack of all trades when it comes to missions

rye gets in the way of genesis on their first heist and promptly joins the team

fae comes from a very big family and a lot of them had aberrations which they were taught to hide away. at age seven her parents found out he had an aberration and kicked him out. they've been more or less living on the street after the first few families to take her in kicked her out almost immediately. it is extremely afraid of its own aberration and never ever uses it. she also experiences mild to moderate back pain and is convinced by the others to get a cane later on.

no updated picrew bc i love him the way he is.

Kid, 15, they/she, undisclosed orientation

no aberration (anymore)

used to have vision enhancement, but went through arp. they suffer from chronic headaches and brain fog

no alias since she works from her computer, as intel gatherer, hacker, plan guy etc.

after one of genesis' heists they found them through their digital footprint and insisted on joining the team. they also convinced david to let five teens/young adults stay in his safe house. she doesn't disclose her real name so everyone just calls them kid.

orphan whose adoptive family admitted her to arp. she ran away shortly after and ended up staying with david.

she got much scrawnier with this picrew. she also finally got headphones which is a huge win for the auDHD community

David, 44, he/him, straight? presumably?

aberration: luck enhancement

the luck enhancement only works on things not influenced by other people's decisions etc. but it's great for coin tosses

around him ladybugs just kinda show up. in his pockets and around the house etc

he sorta kinda adopted kid, and then also the rest of the cast. he provides the safe house, the food and eventually even something akin to fatherly affection.

grumpy ex-cop/doomsday prepper kinda guy. he lost his closest friend to cop things and turned his back on the police force. super convinced that the worlds gonna go to shit sooner rather than later.

there's not enough good middle aged men picrews smh. yeah he kinda looks like that i guess. but you can probably imagine just about any grumpy middle aged guy in media and you'd be pretty close

---

and that's them! ignore that this took me over a month to write. my b

@wings-of-flying @chaos-caverns

does anyone by chance wanna see the comparison of the original picrews for the cng characters and the new ones that i made just now? if not, too bad you're getting it anyways. maybe i'll even expose a bit about the world and the characters