Ryland proposes on a regular date night, or well, he tries to.
Everything possible goes wrong.
The sky opens up to pouring rain the moment youre both ready to leave.
The restaurant refunds him for your reservation due to a double booking error.
You dont really understand why hes so upset. You try to reassure him as you kick off your suffocating dress shoes "its okay, Ry, we can stay in"
He just shakes his head "no no you dont get it" he starts, eyes brimming with tears "we were going to go somewhere nice and it was going to be perfect and you were going to say yea but now its raining and the restaurant is booked and—and i can't propose here because this is lame you wont want to marry someone who proposes to you at home and—"
You cut off his rambling with a kiss, shaking your head "I want to marry you anyway, Ry"
"Oh" he stares at you wide eyed "I said that out loud" you laugh "you did"
He scrambles for the ring box, opening it and shoving it forward "will you marry me?"
You're grinning so hard your cheeks ache
"Yes, Ryland, of course I will"
As he slides the ring onto your finger, he wonders why he ever thought you would say no.
Youre at the bar, maybe a friend dragged you along, maybe you just wanted a night out.
Youre sitting by the bar, sipping something that burns your throat and chattering with your friends. The bartender sets another down beside your mostly empty glass and before you can refuse, she points to a booth "from him" she winks.
You turn to look at the person in the booth and see possibly the most embarrassed looking man youve ever seen. Nursing something harder than you can tolerate and looking anywhere but the bar, apparently the wall tiles are very interesting in times like this.
By the time he works up the courage to approach you, your friends were dragging you out of the bar to go somewhere else; laughing about dancing or karaoke or something. But not before you managed to slip him a napkin with your lipstain on it along with your name and number.
Cws; mentions/suspicion of cheating (not true), violence (minor), typical werewolf stuff, no use of gendered pronouns
Summery: you attempt to confront your boyfriend at his apartment for cheating on you, the truth you find is much stranger
Word count; ≈1.1k
Ryland was acting weird. For the past few months he had refused to make plans or canceled standing ones, like clockwork every attempt to see him was swallowed by a vague pit of "busy". It was weighing on you. At first it was easily justifiable: a missed deadline, papers he had to grade, an emergency. But as the months tore on you found doubt creeping into the recesses of your otherwise trusting mind.
Maybe your boyfriend had been growing bored of your relationship, maybe he had a secret standing affair with some—you stop yourself, degrading his affair partner won't get you out of this—some monthly rendezvous with a mysterious stranger.
The thought made you sick, the thought of your sweet, dorky Ryland meeting up with someone more "fun" for a night every month, just to endure you. To live with your relationship any longer he needed someone else, to have some kinky sex so he could come back to the boring partner he had waiting for him.
You had made a plan, you had a key to his apartment but never barged in without telling him, that went out the window now. You were going to drive to his place, sit in the parking lot and see if you could scope out anything suspicious, and hopefully catch him in the act.
You got the inevitable "busy tonight baby, so sorry. I love you" text at around six, when the sun was starting to dip below the horizon and cast a red orange glow over your living room. The scene would be beautiful if not for the hurt coiling in your gut like a snake, the pain simmering behind your eyes and pouring out from your waterline. you got in your car before you could think better of it.
Ryland still remembered the first time it happened—well he remembered some of it, flashes of teeth and cracking bones, stretching flesh and white hot pain. he remembered the clumps of bloody fur and feathers he woke up spitting out, remembered the dirt and blood that matted his dirty blonde hair and the carcases of whatever he had killed.
it never hurt so badly after that, or if he did he couldn't remember it; maybe his brain was blacking out the pain like it did the rest of his shift. he could remember little things, the smell of his apartment, the feel of mud under his paws.
The most vivid memories were the ones of flesh giving way under his long, wolfish canines. The taste of copper from a fresh kill he never remembers clearly.
And that terrified him. He could take a life so easily, he could end someone without thinking twice about it. He was a monster.
The sickening thought of waking to find your lifeless body with those ugly tooth punctures all over it, frozen in the terror of seeing your rock, your anchor, your Ryland transform and turn on you so easily.
So he did what he did best, he isolated.
You pulled into the parking lot in silence, the oppressive kind that choked any optimism you could have brought to this trip.
The apartment was dimly lit, you vaguely registered that the tv was on. It was low and droning on some nature documentary about birds, it reminded you briefly of what your friends would put on for their dogs when they left the house—you laughed kind of sadly, of course Ryland likes that stuff, he is..was..your lapdog of a boyfriend after all.
You barely noticed the mud on the carpet as you padded further into the apartment, towards the closed bedroom door and the shadows shifting underneath it. You had been so sure you caught him, throwing the door open and starting to yell, tears welling in your—
The impact knocked the wind out of you, you had to scramble back to not bang your head on the fake wooden floor. It took you a moment to fully process what you were seeing, feeling, hearing.
A wolf. A giant, drooling, sharp toothed wolf. In your boyfriend's apartment. On you. Tongue out, tail wagging so hard you thought it was going to break something as it looked over you. It didn't look aggressive, you thought. Blonde curls of thick, soft fur that you couldn't help but think would be divine to run your fingers through.
It didn't seem intent on killing you, you thought, it just stood there looking at you happily. You took the chance to sit up, slow as not to startle the thing—it didn't move too much when you did, simply sitting at your feet with a wagging tail.
"Uhh" you swallowed hard, peering into the room that it had darted out of "Ryland..? Are you—" You're interrupted by a soft "bworf!" From the wolf, who had stood up and started walking excited circles around you and making a soft clack clack clack on the floor with its claws.
You stepped forward, tripped, and realized you were being herded, the wolf has started hitting you gently with its head bonk bonk bonk towards the door.
You were sure that when you stepped into the bedroom you'd find Ryland, maybe his mistress too, bloody heaps that had been ambushed by whatever this oversized wolf that had gotten in was.
You braced yourself for blood, for visera, for painful images. Instead, you found a mess of blankets, pillows, and your laundry. Like a nest.
The wolf herded you towards the bed, tail wagging so hard you felt the air fan your legs "okay, okay, I'm going" you tentatively tuck yourself into the nest, watching the wolf hop up onto the bed with you.
"Well. I guess how this is how I'm spending my night" you sighed, your new wolf friend barking in agreement, prompting you to scratch him behind the ear—which was as lovely as you had thought it would be—and laugh.
The night wasnt as bad as you had originally anticipated it being. The wolf was little more than a big puppy, yipping and pawing at you and really he was a nice weighted blanket. Warm and cozy on your lap.
You woke up the next morning early and discovering that last night was not a dream as you had first suspected. The weight on your chest shifted, and you reached down to pet the wolf. Only to find..Ryland.
He was naked, sprawled out on your chest and looking utterly exhausted despite his sleeping.
He shifted, groaning, and lifted his head as you sat up.
Cws; mentions/suspicion of cheating (not true), violence (minor), typical werewolf stuff, no use of gendered pronouns
Summery: you attempt to confront your boyfriend at his apartment for cheating on you, the truth you find is much stranger
Word count; ≈1.1k
Ryland was acting weird. For the past few months he had refused to make plans or canceled standing ones, like clockwork every attempt to see him was swallowed by a vague pit of "busy". It was weighing on you. At first it was easily justifiable: a missed deadline, papers he had to grade, an emergency. But as the months tore on you found doubt creeping into the recesses of your otherwise trusting mind.
Maybe your boyfriend had been growing bored of your relationship, maybe he had a secret standing affair with some—you stop yourself, degrading his affair partner won't get you out of this—some monthly rendezvous with a mysterious stranger.
The thought made you sick, the thought of your sweet, dorky Ryland meeting up with someone more "fun" for a night every month, just to endure you. To live with your relationship any longer he needed someone else, to have some kinky sex so he could come back to the boring partner he had waiting for him.
You had made a plan, you had a key to his apartment but never barged in without telling him, that went out the window now. You were going to drive to his place, sit in the parking lot and see if you could scope out anything suspicious, and hopefully catch him in the act.
You got the inevitable "busy tonight baby, so sorry. I love you" text at around six, when the sun was starting to dip below the horizon and cast a red orange glow over your living room. The scene would be beautiful if not for the hurt coiling in your gut like a snake, the pain simmering behind your eyes and pouring out from your waterline. you got in your car before you could think better of it.
Ryland still remembered the first time it happened—well he remembered some of it, flashes of teeth and cracking bones, stretching flesh and white hot pain. he remembered the clumps of bloody fur and feathers he woke up spitting out, remembered the dirt and blood that matted his dirty blonde hair and the carcases of whatever he had killed.
it never hurt so badly after that, or if he did he couldn't remember it; maybe his brain was blacking out the pain like it did the rest of his shift. he could remember little things, the smell of his apartment, the feel of mud under his paws.
The most vivid memories were the ones of flesh giving way under his long, wolfish canines. The taste of copper from a fresh kill he never remembers clearly.
And that terrified him. He could take a life so easily, he could end someone without thinking twice about it. He was a monster.
The sickening thought of waking to find your lifeless body with those ugly tooth punctures all over it, frozen in the terror of seeing your rock, your anchor, your Ryland transform and turn on you so easily.
So he did what he did best, he isolated.
You pulled into the parking lot in silence, the oppressive kind that choked any optimism you could have brought to this trip.
The apartment was dimly lit, you vaguely registered that the tv was on. It was low and droning on some nature documentary about birds, it reminded you briefly of what your friends would put on for their dogs when they left the house—you laughed kind of sadly, of course Ryland likes that stuff, he is..was..your lapdog of a boyfriend after all.
You barely noticed the mud on the carpet as you padded further into the apartment, towards the closed bedroom door and the shadows shifting underneath it. You had been so sure you caught him, throwing the door open and starting to yell, tears welling in your—
The impact knocked the wind out of you, you had to scramble back to not bang your head on the fake wooden floor. It took you a moment to fully process what you were seeing, feeling, hearing.
A wolf. A giant, drooling, sharp toothed wolf. In your boyfriend's apartment. On you. Tongue out, tail wagging so hard you thought it was going to break something as it looked over you. It didn't look aggressive, you thought. Blonde curls of thick, soft fur that you couldn't help but think would be divine to run your fingers through.
It didn't seem intent on killing you, you thought, it just stood there looking at you happily. You took the chance to sit up, slow as not to startle the thing—it didn't move too much when you did, simply sitting at your feet with a wagging tail.
"Uhh" you swallowed hard, peering into the room that it had darted out of "Ryland..? Are you—" You're interrupted by a soft "bworf!" From the wolf, who had stood up and started walking excited circles around you and making a soft clack clack clack on the floor with its claws.
You stepped forward, tripped, and realized you were being herded, the wolf has started hitting you gently with its head bonk bonk bonk towards the door.
You were sure that when you stepped into the bedroom you'd find Ryland, maybe his mistress too, bloody heaps that had been ambushed by whatever this oversized wolf that had gotten in was.
You braced yourself for blood, for visera, for painful images. Instead, you found a mess of blankets, pillows, and your laundry. Like a nest.
The wolf herded you towards the bed, tail wagging so hard you felt the air fan your legs "okay, okay, I'm going" you tentatively tuck yourself into the nest, watching the wolf hop up onto the bed with you.
"Well. I guess how this is how I'm spending my night" you sighed, your new wolf friend barking in agreement, prompting you to scratch him behind the ear—which was as lovely as you had thought it would be—and laugh.
The night wasnt as bad as you had originally anticipated it being. The wolf was little more than a big puppy, yipping and pawing at you and really he was a nice weighted blanket. Warm and cozy on your lap.
You woke up the next morning early and discovering that last night was not a dream as you had first suspected. The weight on your chest shifted, and you reached down to pet the wolf. Only to find..Ryland.
He was naked, sprawled out on your chest and looking utterly exhausted despite his sleeping.
He shifted, groaning, and lifted his head as you sat up.
domestic au: reader is trying to sit in their depression alone like they always have, and ryland isn’t any of it. he doesn’t need to fix it, but he won’t leave them alone either.
OHMYGOD THIS.
He sits on the edge of your bed, rubbing your back gently "hey baby" his voice is gentle, not pitying or demanding, but soft. "Have you eaten and taken your meds?"
Theres a glass of water sweating on the nightstand, your prescription bottle hadn't moved from the last time he reminded you. He frowns, helping you sit up and dosing out your meds "just this, then I'll stop nagging" he promises with a kiss to your forehead.
He slides into bed with you, arms around your waist and a chin on the crown of your head. No expectations, only the safety of your person and the promise that he'll do it again tomorrow.
rocky watch grace and (name) sleep. notice how they stay close together, as well as sharing body heat. grace sleep easier with (name), lower and less frequent stress signals.
grace feel comfortable and safe because of (name). good good.
Ryland's ears go red and he stumbles through a laugh
"Ah- I, uhm, I guess so.."
Thinking back on it now, you did lower his stress a lot. He felt safer and happier just being in your presence so he supposed that carried over to his sleep patterns, he did feel more well rested these days—partly because the astrophage problem had been solved, partly because you were his—but he didnt think rocky would have noticed.
"Thanks, bud" he grinned at the thought, pressing his palm to the xenonite ball
Im too sleepy to elaborate rn but Ryland reassures you wirhout you having to ask.... like he tells you when he wont be able to answer cause hes busy and reminds you that he loves you randomly cause he was way emotionally detached before and now hes veering in the other direction into good bf territory
Ryland finding you after a long day, the sun is dipping and casting a yellow orange glow over the kitchen as you scrub dishes.
A pair of muscular arms slide around you, a face pressing into the dip where your neck meets your shoulder. "Missed you baby" Ryland mumbles, you laugh and turn your head to kiss the crown of his sweaty, dirty blonde curls. He lets out a muffled little noise and you dry your hands to hold him.
You find yourselves on the couch, a movie in the background that neither of you pay attention to as Ryland recounts his day and snuggles closer to you. You hum, nodding along as he complains about reports and parent conferences and everything else.
Let this man be seen ough
a/n / poll under the cut
HOLY COW YOU GUYS !!
100 followers already 🩷🩷🩷 thank you sm!!!
So I was thinking I could do a cute little prompt event, I wanna gauge interest first tho
remember that artist!reader idea I had a little bit ago?
picture if you will; you and grace wound up on the hail mary together and while trying to remember things, he sees that amongst the gallery of tattoos on your body, there’s one in particular that stands out. it’s just a little fox. not even detailed. just a simple little fox doodle with some little stars around it.
you remember it now; how one day he just drew that on a post it note, and you loved it so damn much you almost immediately got it tattooed on your arm
The memory slams into you, sitting with Ryland after hours. He's supposed to be grading, youre keeping him company.
He holds up a sticky note, grinning like he painted the Mona Lisa "look" he laughs "its nowhere near your stuff but this might be my greatest work yet"
You took it from him, holding it up to the light "you should stick to science, mister grace"
The next week, you had worn a tanktop to see him. He drops whatever papers he was holding "no you didnt" just above your elbow, was his stupid little doodle "its perfect" you had laughed "I had to"
You trace your fingers over it "you drew this one" you tell him and he looks away from his whiteboard "I remember it" his brows pinch together before breaking out in a small smile "yeah, yeah I did"
Imagine finding boardgames in someone's luggage and you and ryland teaching simon how to play.
Yelling at each other over monopoly—Ryland chooses the dog, Simon the car—someone flips the board and everyone keels over laughing until you cant breathe, ribbing each other for being too competitive or lacking strategy.
Or uno, there comes a point Ryland is holding so many cards he cant look at them fanned out. Simon has the biggest, stupidest grin as he puts down another plus four.
Any game you play ends in the three of you in a heap, laughing, cuddling, and celebrating (or seething about) victories.
I actually can’t stop thinking about this post by @slaughterhouse-loser this idea is too good and soft to me. They’re all so concerned if you get sick. Even if it’s just a simple cold.
Theoretically, the Hail Mary’s air filtration should be preventing pathogens from being in the air that could get you sick but you suppose colds always find a way. Still though, Grace knows that it should be nearly impossible so he goes checking on everything more closely with Simon or Rocky to see if maybe something’s not working right. Also the mention in the og post about Grace making a schedule for your medicine is so accurate. He’s on the dot with it and he’s not taking any ifs, ands, or buts. You’re taking that medicine.
Simon monitors you and your symptoms very closely and tries his best to remedy and ease them when the medicine isn’t doing enough to alleviate them all. He never leaves you alone. Even when he does have something to do around the ship, he’s always popping in to check if anything’s improved or gotten worse. I’m willing to bet that getting sick is a very concerning thing back on Eden considering resources are scarce and the population keeps going down. Sickness can take someone very fast if not treated properly and even infect more. Eden can’t afford that. And even if you say you’re fine, Simon doesn’t want to risk it. He would honestly carry you around if you let him. (Grace too)
Rocky actually removes himself from Grace’s side to be by yours. He acts as their “eyes” since Rocky can technically see into your body and detect any issues. Upset stomach, congestion, fevers, all of that. He’s also there because he’s learned that sometimes being sick causes humans to fall in and out of sleep. So of course Rocky will be there to watch you sleep! Honestly though, him and Simon take shifts. You’ll fall asleep with Rocky cuddled up next to you and wake up to Simon sitting next to your bedside keeping guard, and vise versa.
Simon sitting by your bed, anxiously checking your temp and pulse as if he's afraid the common cold will kill you if he looks away too long.
Ryland has a schedule for medicine, having mary give you some every 6 hours on the dot and checking you take them even when it feels like swallowing glass "it'll help, baby, there you go"
Simon tells you stories, about the stars and eden and true love. You need hopeful stories, he says, if you fall asleep listening to anything upsetting you'll heal slower. Ryland knows hes wrong but agrees anyway
Ryland makes you a place to sit by the hull window and in the mental health room, to watch the stars and see the sights. With him keeping an eye on you of course. If you look weak or tired he puts you right back in bed.
Bonus rocky asking 10 million questions "friend die???? Going to die question???" And wanting to know every detail of your treatment and your illness. For science.
After many many years, Grace dies peacefully on Erid.
When he opens his eyes again and suddenly he looks thirty again, it feels normal, like how a dream convinces you that something is normal when it’s not. And then he steps outside, and it’s… not the biodome. Yes the same shore is still there, but it’s not confined by a large wall of xenonite. Everything feels natural.
Grace descends the hill and heads towards the beach, and halfway down, he realizes he’s not alone. Someone’s sitting a ways down the beach, sharing out at the horizon. Memories come rushing.
You’ve been waiting.
ANON. ANON WHAT HAVE YOU DONE ANON.
Related post
Ryland stands on the grass for a while, wind whipping past his face and eyes brimming with tears.
"Baby?" You turn, that smile he missed so much gleaming back at him. No trace of pneumonia or scurvy, healthy and full of color.
"Ryland" you grin, patting the place beside you and thats when Ryland realized he's been rooted in place for several minutes, gaping. He stumbles down the hill, scrambling to sit beside you and press himself into your side. You're warm and real and breathing.
"Whats going on?" He rasps, suddenly forgetting how his voice works "you—i saw you—" his logical brain is failing him now, as hot tears cascade down his cheeks.
"The afterlife, or something—I'm not quite sure" you laugh, looking back out at the see "they did a great job making you a place to live, didnt they?" Ryland cant muster the strength to speak. He stops fighting and tackles you onto the warm sand with a sob "I-I missed you so much I—" he cant finish the thought, pressing himself impossibly closer "I know," you soothe, petting his hair "I was waiting for you to come home."
what if this was in the fly me to the moon au where the reader had spent the rest of their life waiting on earth for ryland to come back and then another several years waiting for him in the afterlife?
Imagine being his spouse on earth and being told he had to travel to help with a project but the details are vague, nobody's really telling you anything right?
BUT youre one of the few people allowed to look at his logs, you've become old and ill anyway; youre not a security threat.
So you get to know that at least he was happy out in the vastness of space while you waited for him at home.
After many many years, Grace dies peacefully on Erid.
When he opens his eyes again and suddenly he looks thirty again, it feels normal, like how a dream convinces you that something is normal when it’s not. And then he steps outside, and it’s… not the biodome. Yes the same shore is still there, but it’s not confined by a large wall of xenonite. Everything feels natural.
Grace descends the hill and heads towards the beach, and halfway down, he realizes he’s not alone. Someone’s sitting a ways down the beach, sharing out at the horizon. Memories come rushing.
You’ve been waiting.
ANON. ANON WHAT HAVE YOU DONE ANON.
Related post
Ryland stands on the grass for a while, wind whipping past his face and eyes brimming with tears.
"Baby?" You turn, that smile he missed so much gleaming back at him. No trace of pneumonia or scurvy, healthy and full of color.
"Ryland" you grin, patting the place beside you and thats when Ryland realized he's been rooted in place for several minutes, gaping. He stumbles down the hill, scrambling to sit beside you and press himself into your side. You're warm and real and breathing.
"Whats going on?" He rasps, suddenly forgetting how his voice works "you—i saw you—" his logical brain is failing him now, as hot tears cascade down his cheeks.
"The afterlife, or something—I'm not quite sure" you laugh, looking back out at the see "they did a great job making you a place to live, didnt they?" Ryland cant muster the strength to speak. He stops fighting and tackles you onto the warm sand with a sob "I-I missed you so much I—" he cant finish the thought, pressing himself impossibly closer "I know," you soothe, petting his hair "I was waiting for you to come home."
gamechangershow
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
izzy806
yousharknotpass
romaincrisis
kianamaiart
