Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Show & Tell
Claire Keane
Kaledo Art
taylor price
sheepfilms
trying on a metaphor
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Today's Document
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Game of Thrones Daily
Origami Around
⁂
Acquired Stardust
hello vonnie
Product Placement
Kiana Khansmith
art blog(derogatory)
Discoholic 🪩
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@sinister-things
— 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ
𝘷𝘪𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘭 ⋆˚꩜｡ 17 𝘺𝘰 ⋆˚꩜｡ 𝘴𝘩𝘦/𝘩𝘦𝘳 ⋆˚꩜｡ 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤
𝘪 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 : 𝘣𝘰𝘣 𝘳𝘦𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘴 ⋆˚꩜｡ 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘪𝘥 ⋆˚꩜｡ 𝘨𝘶𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘦 ⋆˚꩜｡ 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘫𝘢𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳 (𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘤𝘢) ⋆˚꩜｡ 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘺 𝘫𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘴𝘰𝘯 (𝘵𝘷 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸) ⋆˚꩜｡ 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘥 (𝘢𝘮𝘤) ⋆˚꩜｡ 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘦𝘭 𝘮𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘺 (𝘢𝘮𝘤) ⋆˚꩜｡ 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰 (𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘮𝘯𝘵) ⋆˚꩜｡ 𝘭𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘰 (𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘮𝘯𝘵)
— 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘴 ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ
thunderbolts* ⋆˚꩜｡ criminal minds ⋆˚꩜｡ rottmnt ⋆˚꩜｡ talamasca
— 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ
magical girl!reader ⋆˚꩜｡ teen!reader ⋆˚꩜｡ siren!reader
iwtv au where everything is the same except Louis's being interviewed by the penguins of madagascar
❝ Do You Know What It Means to Be Loved By Death ? ❞
a/n: requested by anonymous!!
the vampire jasper × fem!human!reader
✐ᝰ general relationship headcanons!!
requests are open!! | who i write for!!
Jasper was a lonely soul, that much was true.
Ever since that infamous night, he had spent the majority of his life searching for one thing– a companion.
Someone that he could trust without fear of betrayal.
And that was when you walked into his life.
new crossover ship just dropped:
𝐌𝐑. & 𝐌𝐑𝐒. 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄 part I part II
𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ryland grace & fem!reader 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 you're the medic on the hail mary and come across a photo that must've slipped from your personal supplies which changes the entire dynamic between you and who you thought was your co-worker. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 1.6k 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 i CANNOT believe it has taken people this long to jump on the ryan gosling train. as always, i this nawt proof-read whatsoever #lewl. nerdy silly white boy with biceps, i want you.
you thought you had it all figured out.
well...most of it anyway.
you thought that you know who you are, why you're here, etcetera or whatever, but a single photograph you discovered that had slipped into a nook of the ship has single-handedly destroyed all of the progress you've made in terms of remembering yourself.
your breath shakes just as badly as your hands, and you feel a nervous pounding in your chest accompanied by a pattern of drums in your ears.
this photo can't be real.
you repeat your name in your head. you are an astronaut, and one hell of a doctor. you are on this ship to assist in completing a mission with your co-worker, ryland grace, the only other crew member to survive the journey's coma.
co-worker.
so why the hell are you staring at a photo of the two of you kissing.
there's a little more context to it though, which actually makes everything a hundred times worse.
there's an arch decorated with an array of lush white flowers that frames you both on a sunny spring day, grace is dipping you into the kiss, a beaming expression on each of your faces as he does so. he looks happy, so you look happy, and you're also dressed in a traditional white gown while grace is wearing a tailored suit, but not black, because—
"black is boring," ryland uttered, elbow propped up onto your dining table while his chin rested on his fist. you looked up at him from your laptop where you were browsing websites to get him a suit.
"then don't wear black," you giggled. he reached for your left hand to toy with your fingers, eventually brushing a thumb over your engagement ring. "i thought you said you wanted 'traditional'," he teased.
you scoffed, "i did not say that!"
"you did say that."
"ryland."
"honey," he mocked with a smile. you grinned and smacked his hand away, tending back to your laptop.
"obviously if you don't want to do something, you don't have to do it. and i agree with you, black is boring."
ryland sighed dreamily, tilting his face into his palm after settling his elbow up onto the table again. "i love us. we're so compatible," he hummed.
you smiled shook your head a little in amusement, eyes still on your screen. "you're ridiculous."
"yeah, well, you're marrying me. probably makes you the ridiculous one."
ryland then wordlessly took the laptop from you to scroll through the options, then clicked on one of the sites. he scrolled a little more in silence, squinting slightly even though his glasses were right there that he could've put on. ryland clicked on the touchpad once more before turning the screen to you, dead serious.
"i want this one."
you blinked at the screen. he had pulled up one of the site's photos of one of their models showing off a tacky purple suit and an ugly gold tie, all pulled together by a matching purple fedora. your eyes flicked to your groom-to-be.
"now you're really being ridiculous."
"what's wrong with it?"
"you'll look like a pimp."
"nothing wrong with that," he shrugged.
you snatched your laptop back and deleted the tab with another smile and shake of your head. this time, he smiled back.
"i love you," he uttered.
you looked up again, lingering in those three words. he slid his hand towards you, palm facing the ceiling.
"i love you too," you murmured back.
you slid your hand into his, and ryland laced your fingers together, giving you a squeeze.
you thought you would carry on from there, but of course ryland had to open his mouth again; "even if i dress like a pimp?"
"oh my god."
the memory ended in a flash, and you dropped the photograph. looks like grace settled on a brown corduroy suit with a burgundy tie for a pop of colour. your own voice echoes in your head again; 'the brown will look nice in spring.', as does ryland's; 'i do look incredible in brown, don't i?'
you feel like your wedding ring is burning into your skin.
both you and grace knew you were married via your rings of course, you just couldn't remember who to yet, and it never occurred to either of you that it might've been to each other because why would it?
you take a deep breath, closing your eyes, before picking up the photo again to go find the supposed love of your life.
you navigated your way through the ship with a sense of urgency, photograph clutched in hand. when you heard a crash and a clumsy ‘uh-oh’ coming from the lab, you stopped by the doorway. suddenly the urgency disappeared. maybe this could wait until tomorr-
“who goes there?”
grace’s chair creaks when he leans back to get a peek of you hiding behind the doorframe.
when you look at him now, it all comes together.
ever since the two of you woke up from the coma, there’s been a gravitational pull that brings you two together. in terms of the mission, you operate in perfect unison and create such a steady flow that it makes everything feel oddly domestic. grace flicks a couple of switches there, you repair a part of the control panel here.
every time you both finish a task, it’s tradition to wrap it up with a high-five. however, one time when the two of you got too lost in the work, your fingers ended up intertwined and fell to your sides in a ten second hand-holding session where neither of you flinched.
as soon as the both of you realised, you each recoiled and spent a few beats staring at each other, marvelling at how natural the encounter felt like it was a subconscious effort. all grace could do was clear his throat and walk off, saying something about lunch.
“well, well, look who decided to come back,” grace quips as he wipes down a piece of equipment with a cloth. his glasses are practically hanging off of his face as they so usually do.
“y’had me thinkin’ you were going for a space walk.”
“grace.”
“without a helmet.”
“grace.”
“yeah?”
he finally looks up to see you holding out the photograph.
ryland’s hands freeze before he gently sets down the XRF analyser which looks to be like it was dropped in ramen water.
he rises from his chair, eyes refusing to peel away from the picture as he steps closer. he carefully plucks it from your fingers and slides his glasses onto his face properly to look down at it. white flowers, white dress, and a brown suit, because black is boring.
his head lifts back up to meet your nervous gaze.
“we’re married.”
it sounds like he’s saying it to himself rather than you.
you nod, trying to see through the blank stare he’s giving. dr. ryland grace, possibly one of the smartest men from earth has had his brain turned to mush by a photograph.
“you’re my…we’re-”
“married, yes, i know,” you snap.
“oh my god."
he inhales.
"oh my god..."
he blinks.
he pauses.
"oh my god-"
"grace!" you plead.
"you're my wife, and we're-”
“yes, grace, we’re married. can you please say literally anything else?”
he takes a deep breath, then suddenly hands you the photo again to start pacing around in a circle with his hands on his hips.
“grace…?”
“yeah.”
“are you okay?”
he stops, facing away from you and rubs a hand across his face.
“um…” he pivots to you on the spot, “i think so.”
you remain standing with your feet together, slightly curled in on yourself as you hold the photograph in front of you with two hands.
“do you…remember anything?”
ryland settles both hands on top of each other on the back of his head, inhaling deeply. “i’m starting to,” he says with the exhale, “do you?”
you nod. “bits and pieces.”
you drag your feet over to one of the lab tables and sit on the surface, staring down at the photo.
what now?
“i proposed to you at the beach,” ryland says.
you look up, and in his eyes, you see waves and a bright grey sky. you smile.
“you did,” you hum, setting the photo down on the table next to you. “when you got on one knee, you were too close to the water and it washed up on you so your pants got soaked.”
you giggle at the sudden memory. ryland smiles, “i don’t think i remember that part…”
“yes you do, you’re just embarrassed,” you grin. “and you stayed on one knee to ask the question because you were too proud to admit you made a mistake even though i was laughing at you.”
you’re in a fit of giggles now, and ryland just chuckles as he approaches you. his eyes land on the two bands around your finger; your engagement ring, and the basic wedding ring that so clearly matches his now that he looks closer.
suddenly, he reaches for your hand, thumb grazing over the humble gemstone on the engagement ring. your favourite gemstone, he suddenly remembers.
he lets the tender moment pass, then carefully drops your hand to place his hands on his hips.
“looks cheap. you probably deserve better.”
you give him a look before your eyes drop to the ring on your finger. you twist it a little, observing the gem from different angles.
“no…it’s actually pretty perfect,” you decide.
ryland watches you over the rims of his glasses, his heart beating quicker when he catches the complete genuineness in your tone. his eyes flick back down to the photo next to you on the table.
“we're really married, huh?"
you lift your head, gazing at him with a fond curiosity. what else could you learn to remember about this silly man?
“i guess so,” you hum.
ryland gives a nod and glances down at his own ring.
“okay…” he murmurs.
then, louder; “then let’s be scientists and figure this out.”
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 @cloudedhouse @angelryex @loonylups @bluberrychampagne @stargral @alphabetically-deranged @patrickzweigsdefender @charmedntruer @severe-mental-illness @aemondsbbgx @challengers4ev @fthomas2 @yearsarewatchingyou 𝐛𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
𝐌𝐑. & 𝐌𝐑𝐒. 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄: 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄 part I part II
𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ryland grace & fem!reader 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 after learning that you and grace are married, you both decide to jog your brains in an attempt to remember who you both were as a couple before your memories were tampered with, leading to a recollection of why you're here in the first place. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 1.8k 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 i did not expect the last part to be received so well!! low key thought it was ahh so i was ready to sweep it under the rug but nope so here's part two yippieee!
ryland sits on his favourite spinning stool with wheels as you haul over a large white board to prop up against the wall and two white board markers. he does a little twirl in the chair before you toss a marker in his direction.
before he takes it, he spots the marker you're holding.
"i want the blue one."
you glance over your shoulder at him as you get rid of the old equations on the board with a dry eraser. with a sigh, you toss him your pen, giving him the blue while you catch the black from him. he gives you a single exaggerated nod in thanks for the trade.
"alright," you begin, "i know we'll eventually get all of the memories back, but i thought we could try get them faster by coming up with questions for us to think about together that'll help us remember more about this relationship."
"marriage," he corrects.
you internally panic, then nod. "marriage. right. sorry."
you spin around to the board and write up a heading at the top; 'WHO ARE WE?'. ryland hums in amusement.
you wordlessly jot down underneath: ‘HOW DID WE MEET?’
ryland furrows his eyebrows.
“school.”
you turn to him with a befuddled look. “what?”
“i remember that one. my school reached out to the hospital and you came in to talk to the kids about what it’s like to be a doctor.”
your writing hand falls limp at your side. the memory hits you in the face.
“why didn’t you tell me?”
“i thought you would’ve remembered!” he contended.
with a sigh, you throw the white board marker across the lab and sit down on the seat across from him. “this is stupid.”
he taps his blue pen on the table’s surface, thinking. then, he decides, “let’s just talk.”
you lift your head from being buried your hands.
“talk?”
he shrugs.
“talk. share what we each remember.”
you glance down at the wedding band on his left hand, letting out a deep exhale.
“alright.”
“yeah?”
“yeah.”
“okay,” he gives a little smile, tossing the beloved blue marker in the same direction as yours. “i’ll go first. i remember you used to pants me whenever i was winning an argument.”
“what?” you laugh.
he leans forwards on the table with a sigh.
“yup. i recall one time where you claimed that mercury is the hottest planet. common misconception.”
“it’s the closest to the sun!”
as soon as the argument comes out of your mouth, the memory of this exact conversation rushes in.
it was a sunday night. you were both in the kitchen, ryland making two peppermint teas while you sat on the counter to keep him company. he was reaching into the cupboard for a pair of mugs while responding to your false statement.
‘okay, sweetheart, yes it may be the closest, but mercury just doesn’t have the substantial atmosphere that’s needed in order to contain that much heat.”
you blinked. ‘but…’
‘no. no buts. you’re a doctor, honey. you’re smarter than this.’
with that, you frowned, then suddenly hopped off the counter to tug ryland’s sweatpants down his legs. they fell into a bunch on the floor, leaving him in his plaid boxers.
he didn’t flinch, just looked at you over his shoulder mid-tea pour.
‘really?’
you folded your arms across your chest.
‘yup.’
“i did do that didn’t i…” you say after you recall.
ryland catches the look of recognition on your face, eyeing you over the rims of his glasses with an amused smirk.
“alright, your turn.”
he pushes his glasses up his nose. you sigh, scratching the back of your neck as you jog your memory. you glance up at him.
“d’you remember how we ended up here together?”
ryland stops to think.
“they…they made me. by force.” he clears his throat at this part, but when he tries to remember where you fit into the equation, he frowns, eyebrows bunching together.
“where were you?”
you chuckle, running a palm up your arm as a self-soother. you begin to blush at the memory.
“i was already with you on the boat by that point after you demanded for me to be flown out…” you tease. “when the lab blew up, i didn’t have to be told to know that stratt would put you on the mission,” you say softly before suddenly stopping.
ryland notices the avoidance of eye contact, the glassy eyes and the tense jaw in your expression. he reaches for your hand across the desk and gives your fingers a squeeze, listening carefully.
“i nearly let you go, grace…” you whisper.
you remember his crying, his attempt of running away to god knows where, and the way he pleaded into the dirt when he was held down.
when they were taking him to be put into the induced coma, you were crying alongside him, squeezing his hand and peppering kisses all over his face, saying that it was going to be okay. stratt had convinced you that ryland would be making a courageous sacrifice for the rest of the world, but when you lost grip on his hand and he was taken from you, you approached stratt and seized her by the wrists.
‘let me go with him,’ you sobbed.
she tensed in your grasp, already visibly upset. ‘dr. grace, i am afraid that is not possible-’
‘i’ve been glued to his side practically the entire time,’ you insist, cheeks wet with tears. ‘i know the science—the stars, the astrophage, and like ilyukhina said to him, i can pick up the other stuff as i go along!’
stratt stared at you for what felt like a long time. you knew it wasn’t that simple, but if you could just make her feel like she owed you this.
‘you do understand that you would be giving up your life?’ she asked simply.
you let go of her wrists, your throat bobbed as you swallowed another cry.
‘my husband and i had plans to grow old and die together, stratt.’
your voice wobbled with every word.
‘if we can’t have the old part, at least let us have the dying part. i won’t…’ your throat tightened. inhale. exhale.
‘i won’t let you take him from me,’ you finished.
you knew then as you know now that that sentence wasn’t fair. but, she looked truly sorry.
stratt paused again for a long time, then looked you up and down. ‘you are a physician, yes?’
‘yes, ma’am.’
‘then for the record you will be designated the role of medic for the project hail mary mission.’ she turned to carl who looked like he was still staring in the direction ryland was taken in.
‘officer carl, bring her to the team and explain the situation please.’
carl snapped his head back into your direction, gave stratt a nod, and you a reassuring smile.
before being taken away, you remember flinging your arms around the other woman, squeezing your eyes shut.
‘thank you.’
she didn’t hug back, but gave an awkward pat on the back. you didn’t see that she had closed her eyes too, embracing the moment.
‘good luck,’ she whispered.
your eyes start to water, ryland’s grip only tightens on your hand. his eyes are widened ever so slightly, lips parted like he has something he wants to say.
your eyes shyly shift back to him.
“grace…?”
he can’t peel his eyes away from you. then he clears his throat.
“that- that doesn’t count…if i wasn’t there then that’s technically just one of your own memories,” he tries to jest lightly.
when you don’t laugh, he holds your gaze again, then murmurs, “you’re here because of me.”
it’s not a question. he sounds like he’s processing it. all you do is give a little nod while anxiously chewing on your bottom lip.
“if it weren’t for you, i’d be alone. ilyukhina and yao…they still wouldn’t of woken up. it’d just be me.”
ryland has stood from his seat, letting go of your hand, though his eyes haven’t left you once.
you glance down at you wedding rings. your favourite gemstone standing loud and proud on top of one of the bands. your thumb twists it a little.
“i’m not dying alone because of you.”
you stop. this makes you look up at him. because i love you, is what you want to say, but neither of you are sure how to approach that part of this dynamic just yet. so, ryland makes the first move by circling the table and suddenly scooping you up from your seat into a tight hug.
his chin rests on your shoulder, glasses hanging off his face, eyes squeezed shut. you’re too shocked to process any of it, but you eventually wrap your arms back around him, closing your eyes and melting into his warm embrace.
the security of his arms takes you back—it was a weekday after a particularly gruelling shift at the hospital. you and ryland had plans for a date, maybe the fifth or sixth. he came to your place to pick you up like the gentleman he is so the both of you could walk to the restaurant (he was still too shy to admit that he only owned a bike at this point).
when you opened the door looking just as nice as him, something came over you to see so much effort being put in for little old you. a sob left your throat, ryland panicked and immediately came closer to place his hands on each of your upper-arms. ‘what? what’s wrong? is it the tie? i wasn’t sure about it either to be honest, i just-’
‘no, no, i’m sorry, it’s just been a day…’ you whimper. ryland’s heart cracked open ever so slightly. he had bad days as a middle school teacher, so he couldn’t imagine the amount of stress you’d constantly be under as a doctor.
‘okay…okay, c’mere…’ he spoke softly before gently bringing you into his arms, squeezing tightly. you let yourself cry into his chest, shoulders shaking with each sob. ryland didn’t try to hush you, he just held you, eventually running his fingers through your hair in an attempt to comfort.
that night you ended up ordering takeout despite the reservation he had made. you two lounged on your couch, still dressed up, watching finding nemo.
your head found his shoulder when marlin and dory started bouncing around on the jellyfish.
‘the tie is ugly,’ you muttered. he smiled, then lifted an arm to wrap around your shoulder.
‘i knew it.’
you both pull away from the hug, though ryland’s hands stay firmly planted on your elbows as he looks down at you. you’re both teary-eyed, and you laugh as you push his falling glasses up his nose for him with your index finger. he smiles.
“thank you.”
you smile back, and go in for another hug.
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 @cloudedhouse @angelryex @loonylups @bluberrychampagne @stargral @alphabetically-deranged @patrickzweigsdefender @charmedntruer @severe-mental-illness @aemondsbbgx @challengers4ev @fthomas2 @yearsarewatchingyou @faistbaby @punkshyteee 𝐛𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
my dad was watching monty python this morning and so this beamed itself into my brain
ignore the typo
my dad was watching monty python this morning and so this beamed itself into my brain
obsessed with this muppet clip where Gonzo breaks a piece of machinery and then just stares at the camera in an empty room and says ‘GUILT’ in the most harrowing way possible
Really wanna write something so I'm opening requests, I write for: ask box is open!!
- guy anatole
- the vampire jasper (talamasca)
- bob reynolds
- Armand (iwtv amc)
- Daniel molloy (iwtv amc)
- percy jackson (Disney show character)
- spencer reid
- donnie (rottmnt)
- leo (rottmnt)
- clark kent (corenswet)
- bruce wayne (battinson)
: ̗̀➛ ❝ Like A Lazy Ocean Hugs The Shore . . . ❞
introducing . . . siren!reader | playlist | main masterlist | masterlist beneath the cut!!
siren!reader . . . whose gaze draws people in, as though there are calming oceans in your eyes. Enthralled by your captivating beauty, their only desire within the moment is to get lost in your gaze, forgetting prior duties and unable to escape the hypnotic effect you wield.
siren!reader who . . . some children tend to grow anxious around. Not from fear— but weariness. When their parents inevitably notice that something has unsettled their child, the child can only whisper that you aren't human– which wouldn't be a big deal if it had only been one child, but that number has grown over the years.
siren!reader who . . . makes others yearn for the sea just by your presence; even those who have no fond memories of or no prior interest in being near water.
siren!reader who . . . has a gaze that is both mesmerizing and unsettling, as if it seems to peek into the soul, leaving a lingering and haunting sense of yearning in the chests of others.
siren!reader who . . . has a hauntingly beautiful voice that possesses an otherworldly quality, your voice resonating with audiences with a chilling echo.
siren!reader who . . . strong-willed individuals get a foreboding feeling from, their knees weak, heart pounding, and voices whispering for them to run away as far they can.
siren!reader who . . . witnesses still hear your song late at night, even years after they first heard it. Your voice is distant yet their heart pounds as if you are right outside their bedroom window.
siren!reader who . . . whenever someone tries to record your song, it always turns out distorting and incomprehensible, your hypnotic words turning themselves into complete gibberish. And without fail, the recording always deletes itself seconds after it ends, leaving no trace of its existence on your would-be victims device.
siren!reader who . . . leaves victim's floating motionlessly in the ocean, coroner's unable to determine a cause of death.
siren!reader who . . . leaves survivors and would-be victims slowly slipping deeper into madness. They've tried everything– going back to the spot they first heard you, sketching your face, but everything has something wrong with it; the spot feels emptier than before, the sketches never look as accurate as they want them to. But you continue to haunt them; they always hear your song in the back of their mind, in the distance just as they're about to fall asleep, your face intruding upon their dreams, only to be startled awake and your features quickly wipe themselves from their memory.
siren!reader . . . whose beauty confuses many, leaving people to wonder if you're real or simply a figment or their imagination.
siren!reader who . . . becomes an urban legend in small communities, of the elusive creature who lures her victims into the sea, the victim's always found with a smile on their face, as if delighted to meet their untimely end by your alluring voice.
WAVEBREAKER
(how Percy Jackson accidentally terrified the cutest surfer girl at camp)
Percy was not expecting to fall in love before lunch.
(He’d barely even brushed his hair. Like— at all.)
It started simple enough. Morning swim, a few laps with the sea turtles. Shelly, Bob 2.0, and the absolute menace that was Bubbles. They were gossiping, as usual (and yes, sea turtles gossip. it’s a thing).
He’d just been about to head back to shore, dripping saltwater and sunshine, when he saw her.
You.
Riding a wave like you’d been born from it. board slicing through the water, hair glinting gold in the light, those tiny rhinestone straps of your Y2K bikini glittering like seashells. Anklet. Sun-kissed grin. The whole early-2000s teen-movie scene happening in real life.
Percy blinked.
Then blinked again.
Then immediately sank under the surface because oh gods was she so pretty. ♡
Bubbles floated up beside him, unamused.
“You okay, dude? You’re turning as red as a crab.”
“I’m— I’m fine!” Percy hissed. Which was, objectively, a lie.
Crush 2.0 squinted.
“You should totally ask her out.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Why not? You talk to scary sea monsters all the time!”
“She’s scarier.”
(He didn’t mean that, but… kind of true?? you had confidence.)
They all started snickering, Bubbles smacking against your board, making you wobble above, and Percy decided this was, officially, mutiny. So, naturally, he tried to swim away. Which— okay, maybe that was mistake number one.
Because when he surfaced again, you were right there ! catching another wave, turning the board with a flick of your body, laughing when the spray hit your face. And he just… stared. For a long time. Too long.
She must be new, he thought. He knew all the camps kids by now — you looked an Apollo kid, basking in the sunlight, though most of apollos kids were different than you. Flower-crowns and mossy sandals. But you? You looked like sunshine and saltwater. Like nature’s chaos in the best possible way.
And then, because the universe has a sense of humor, you spotted him.
You spotted him staring in the corner of your eye.
Cue panic.
He tried to raise a hand, say something cool like “hey” or “nice form” but what came out was somewhere between a dolphin noise and an awkward wave.
You gasped, startled balance gone and splash.
Straight into the water.
“Oh my gods—!” Percy shot forward instantly, guilt crawling up his spine. He hadn’t meant to scare you. He just… existed too close, apparently.
When you popped up, sputtering, hair plastered to your cheeks, you looked like a furious sea nymph. “Were you spying on me?” you accused, pushing wet strands from your face.
“No! No, no, definitely not spying— uh— swimming! I was swimming! With, uh, friends.” (gestures vaguely to the turtles, who promptly abandoned him watching his embarrassment. traitors.)
You blinked at him. Then looked at the turtles. Then back at him.
“They have names, don’t they?”
“…Maybe.”
You laughed ( and oh gods, that sound. Percy thought it could rival any siren song. ♡)
He helped you steady the surfboard, and you grinned, all teeth and sunshine. “You’re the Poseidon guy, right?”
He groaned. “Do people actually call me that?”
“Only when you randomly appear from the sea and scare innocent girls off their boards.”
“Right. Fair.”
You kicked lightly at the water, still smiling. “I’m from Cabin Four, Demeter’s.”
Percy blinked. “Demeter? Seriously? You’re— you’re like, surfing! I thought you guys only grew, like, wheat.”
(He wondered what you were doing in his ocean. Demeter usually claimed the meadows.)
“Maybe,” you teased, “but wheat loves sunlight, and so do I. Nature’s not just plants, you know. The ocean’s alive too.”
Something about the way you said that ,so sure, so gentle, made his chest ache. Maybe that’s why the waves curled soft around you, like they agreed.
He smiled, shy and dazed. “Guess we’ve got something in common, then.”
You tilted your head. “What’s that?”
“We both love the sea.”
The turtles surfaced again, whispering (loudly) to one another.
“He’s so down bad.”
“He so is.”
Percy flushed crimson. You didn’t seem to hear, just brushed water off your arms and said, “Maybe you can teach me how to talk to them sometime.”
“Only if you promise not to fall off your board again.”
You grinned, already paddling out. “No promises, kelpie .”
And just like that, she was gone , chasing another wave, sunlight glinting off her hair, leaving Percy Jackson completely, utterly, hopelessly doomed.ᐟ
beyond infatuation | j.a.
professional yearner!jack abbot x nurse!reader
synopsis: jack abbot is obsessed with you and he's going to make it everybody else's problem - or - 5 moments the night shift (and co) observes between you and jack + the 1 they don't
contains: bsf night shift crew!! dana & the pittlings cameo, he fell first AND he fell harder, age gap (reader is in her 20's), suggestive at times, everyone calls reader sweets, no use of y/n, jack is probably ooc but i refuse to believe that man does not yearn deeply and he is written so, and most importantly: NIGHT SHIFT SUPREMACY
note: first fic for the pitt because i think i might have actually read my way through every fic on here and i crave more pls be nice to me :') this started off as a completely different fic and then it became this instead so there's a half written part 2 (and a part 3 …) if anyone really wants it. yes i did write this instead of the giant piles of actual work i have to do i hope you enjoy <3
dividers by @uzmacchiato <3
1. The Crush
It’s been exactly one week since you joined the night shift. Six days, twenty three hours, and thirty one minutes technically speaking but who was counting.
In that time you’d made yourself indispensable. You were one of the most competent nurses to ever walk through the doors of the PTMC. You were practically hard wired to thrive in the absolute chaos of the night. And, best of all, you’d become Shen’s caffeine addicted partner in crime. Five out of your last seven days you’d dragged him into a pre-shift coffee run and he always complied with your demands.
The night shift wasn’t easy for just anyone to take to. It was hard and yet here you were, doing it all flawlessly. And Jack couldn’t look away. Not that he’d ever want to.
It’d taken no time at all, about five hours into your first shift, for him to become borderline obsessed. All it took was one conversation in the ambulance bay just after midnight. A joke cracked under the light of the full moon, one that broke through the stern expression he’d had on with no hesitation at all, for Jack to want to know every single little detail that made up who you were.
In a normal way of course.
Showmand during the Devil’s minion era:
since episode 4 has been on everyone's minds this week i'd like to point out that Guy disengages the thumb safety and immediately puts his finger on the trigger of the gun he aims at Raglan
Not a massive books fan but I do really appreciate that a core character trait of Marius is Guy Whose House Keeps Getting Destroyed.
