#jaspwen

[quietmillennial]

Max: David, Jasper, Gwen? Why haven't you moved from the couch all day?

Gwen: I'm taking mental health day, sweetie.

Max: Oh, come on. It's not that bad.

Gwen: *raises eyebrows*

Jasper: *laughs*

David: *distressed noises*

Max: . . . Jesus.

[forestwater87]

The actual tattoo would be brightly colored and full of patterns and designs, constellations that remind him of the freckles on David's skin, forests of trees and winding roads because even if the thought of camp makes him bitter, there's still a part of him that finds joy in nature, origami birds splashed with color that somehow remind him of Gwen, a camera for Julia, and - in an ironic twist - a bear paw for Max because somewhere along the line Jasper started to associate bears with his son's teddy bear and his love for them instead of the creature that first marked his skin. Wherever he can find room he adds; flames and feathers gears and anything else that speaks to him, all wrapped around his arms and spreading towards his chest, splashed against his skin in a kaleidoscope of color and freedom and nothing and everything in a way that screams Jasper

Um hey @hopefullypessimistic84?

Could you not fucking make me cry describing your headcanons for Alive!Adult!Jasper’s sleeve tats?

[quietmillennial]

Fragile

Gwen is fragile.

It seems silly, almost unfathomable, but she's fragile.

She watches every reaction, and waits until she knows she's done well to continue on. She's so used to failure, that it's what she what expects.

She's always been underwhelming, vague and boring. Hidden among the sea of people who swore that they were different, who fell between the cracks.

But something grew inside her, a passion and a desperation. To please and impress. To become valuable. To, if not be treasured, then to at least be indisposable.

All she wanted was to matter. She'd always been the daughter who fell just short, the student that just missed the mark, the lover who was just too picky and loud, the applicant who seemed to lack a certain trait.

But her fragile form is safeguarded by two warm bodies.

She was the center of their universe.

Gwen was the sun. David and Jasper were the planets. They made her useful. She was everything they needed, and even everything they wanted.

Without effort or trial, she was satisfying. To them she was beautiful. She was brilliant and bright. She was charming and commanding, charismatic. She was desirable. They wanted her.

And she wanted them. Their glances lit her up, made her beam in confidence. When emerald and sapphire eyes melted her amythest ones, she felt safe. Safe to exist and create. She belonged between them. Above them, below them, beside them. Anywhere they were, it was safe.

Fragile and powerful, a small stream flows within a valley, creating.

[quietmillennial]

There is this sense of calm that invades his tired demeanor as he opens the door. The television plays one of the less annoying toddler programs, though no one's present in the room. A simple, completed puzzle sits on the coffee table in front of their horrendous yellow couch.

Jasper smiles fondly at the smell of Thai takeout from the kitchen. He watches the scene from the doorway. His husband brushes a pale hand through his frazzled ginger hair as their energetic daughter sits down to her rice and pork. Gwen drones on quietly to Max, their son, about the quadratic equation.

She looks up first with a fond smile and rises, leaving the teenager to his work and food. Holding on to her swelling stomach, she kisses Jasper on the cheek. He kisses her back and covers the hand on her womb with his own, tender and thankful.

She convinces him to sit down and eat, afterwards returning to Max's side to help with his homework. David gently dissects Jasper's day and tells him about his own. Harper demands that Jasper see her puzzle, and drags him back into the living room to see it. Jasper laughs and pretends to never have laid eyes on it.

The night slips by in a very standard pattern. The tired, and obnoxious droning of a junior over his assignments, the melody of a little girl singing in tune to her father guitar. The sweet, teasing promises from his wife of a warm, crowded bed.

Max escapes them to flee into his room, probably to smoke a joint he's managed to get a hold of in order to push through the last of his school work. Harper yawns and curls up with her parents, insisting that she can stay awake long enough to see another episode of Oswald. However, as her body stills, and her eyes droop, Jasper hefts her into his arms and carries her upstairs, David and Gwen in tow. She demands that she doesn't need her nightlight, so they simply leave the door cracked.

As the trio enters their bedroom, Jasper groans and flops on the bed, feeling the tenseness of his back slowly melts into the sheets. David smiles goofily and lays himself beside his husband, watching his wife pull out her work clothes for the next day. Gwen joins them then, sighing as she rests her head upon Jasper's chest. She hums contently along with Jasper, almost in perfect tandem. David chuckles and nuzzles closer. Jasper wraps his arms around his husband and wife, drifting off happily.

[quietmillennial]

the kind of boy to call his mother

Super angsty oneshot under the cut. Past abuse and attempted murder.

The room is cold as David looks up at the hulking leviathan, face dark, light only touching the mad wisps of ginger from his head. His hand reaches and grips David's throat. He can't move and he can't scream. He just watches helplessly as he's flung across the room like doll. There is no pain, only acceptance and a familiar numbness. Until of course, he looks up to find a small redheaded woman, still on the floor. Hauntingly pale, as blood pools on the concrete from her wounds.

David screams.

Gwen and Jasper jump as the frail body hidden between them flails, lashing against the sheets and lovers that held him. Gwen jumps from the bed and races out of the room as Jasper tries to wrangle David from the sheets. As soon as Jasper's hands reach him, he shouts and strikes against him.

Jasper's used to this however, and holds his breath and composure as he drags his screaming partner out of the covers and back unto the bed, trying to sooth him desperately.

"Davey, I'm here. It's okay, I'm right here. It's not real, it's not real, it's not real. David, you're safe, I promise."

Slowly, David stops fighting and begins to quake as he bitterly weeps. Jasper gingerly takes David in his arms, watching for signs that he would retaliate, but finds none, and cages him against his chest. He rocks David back and forth, because he doesn’t know what else to do. As he weeps, Jasper hushes him, promises that his dream isn’t real.

Gwen walks back into the room with with a cup of steaming tea in one hand and David’s phone in the other. David finally begins to compose himself, promising that he’s okay as he takes his phone, dialing the first number in his contacts.

It rings four times. Then, a quiet, tired voices calls out between the weak connection.

“Davey?”

David sighs, heavy with relief, finally taking the cup with a nod of appreciation toward Gwen. “Hi, Mom.”

[quietmillennial]

"Honey," said David quietly, "what's wrong?"

Gwen, who was currently hiding her face against her knees, flinched, as if she been hit. David felt a shake in his resolve, and nawed his lower lip between his teeth. She didn't move after that, didn't bother to make a sound.

David jumped as he heard heavy footsteps trail behind him, a voice soft as clouds mumbled, "She's been like this all day."

David spun to find Jasper right behind him, holding a warm cup of tea and a worried glance.

"What happened?" asked David.

Jasper ignored him unconsciously to gently set her cup on her night stand, but still, she didn't move. David waited patiently, however, and struggled to watch Jasper's face contort in pain. He didn't know what was wrong. He couldn't solve the problem, and it was killing him.

"She came home from her parents' house like this."

Jasper took a deep breath, and something clicked in David's mind.

Gwen's parents could be rude, pessimistic, and just plain cruel when they wanted to be, and obviously, they'd worked their magic again, and now David and Jasper struggled with the pieces, unaware of what they are, and where they go. By now, they used to it. But it was heart wrenching to watch.

The things those people said to Gwen, to their girlfriend, were sick. They tore her apart, and her parents felt nothing. No shame, no discourse, nothing.

"Oh, dear," sighed David, as he pressed his fingers into his temple. If everyone could possibly leave his girlfriend in one piece, that would be wonderful.

But Gwen took his sighs to heart and pulled into herself. "I'm sorry."

Jasper's head whipped her direction. "You have nothing to apologize for, Gwen."

She shook her head, and finally looked up, eyes watering and red. " You don't deserve to put up with me. I'm a hole."

David and Jasper looked at each other, then at Gwen, and David, after a moment gained the courage to ask her, "What is that supposed to mean?"

Gwen looked at him. God, she was distraught, she could barely keep her gaze on him, focussing on the wall behind him. David grimaced.

"It means I'm pitiful. I drag people in and drain them. Soon, you'll be tired of me, and that'll be it. That's all I'm good for."

David could have sceamed, but he knew better. He and Jasper both knew what she needed, and this, at least, they could do.

They sat on either side of her on the bed, saying nothing. They waited, and watched Gwen, still dejected and hidden. She jumped, startled, as David's long, calloused fingers grazed her hand.

She surrendered and took his hand in hers, laying her head on his shoulder. Jasper smiled a little when she glanced at him, and she smiled a little, too.

His fingers entangled themselves into her tight coils of hair, and he admired the soft blush that washed over her cheeks and nose. The twinkle of old tears in her eyes shone like the peaks of clouds in the sun.

"You are a hole," said Jasper, and David eyed him hotly.

Gwen sat up though, her interest peaked.

"You are," he affirmed, "When I fell in love with you, I had no hope of climbing back out."

Everything was still and quiet as disbelief.

"Jasper," said David. That was all he could say, if he said anything else, he'd regret it for sure.

But Gwen laughed. It broke through the tension and invaded every inch of the room. She grabbed one of the pillows and hit the sandy blonde over the head, causing him to cackle and grab on to her sides.

Gwen shrieked. Jasper's fingers dug in to her sides and stole her breath. As he tickled her, she called out desperately between huffs of laughter.

"David!" she exclaimed, "Help me, please!"

David laughed and danced his fingers against his boyfriend's arm. Jasper didn't notice David's shenanigans until he yelped. He suddenly released Gwen and laughed wildly, trying to pry David's nimble fingers from his under arms.

"Da-david! Stop, please! I'm done, I'm done, I'm done! I swear to God I'm gonna pee, Davey-"

David released him and laughed loudly, enjoying the appreciative cuddles from Gwen, who still giggled gleefully behind him. Jasper grumbled half-heartedly, content to watch his partners laugh, even if his chest now ached.

Gwen turned to her table and drank some her tea, a quiet thank you. She smiled as David tried to go in for a sneak attack again, only for Jasper to flip him and trap David beneath him.

She cringed as David's wail overshadowed the sound of dreaded rasberries being blown on his stomach. His legs flailed, and almost hit her, but she masterfully dodged it.

Her boys.

[quietmillennial]

Strong

David is strong.

It's laughable at a glance. But it is unmistakable. Strength exudes from every smile, every laugh, and every gleam of his eye.

David is frail, a beanpole. He trembles easily in the cold. But with every setback, every attack of fate against him, he prevails. He lives, and it's more than some can say.

His knowledge of the natural world is unchallenged. David survives. With no advantage, no place to start, he begins with nothing. And he creates opportunities, and makes himself strong. No one helps him. He doesn't need it.

But there is a shred of doubt in the long fatigue that plagues his strength. Moments when he's so tired, he can't breathe, and he can't see the end of them. It's heavy and dark, it won't let him move. And he seems alone in it, as he's always been.

But it's there, in all his weakness, the sun and moon capture him in their gravity. He's still, in awe of them, no longer drifting helplessly in the cosmos. And he's safe to be weak, vulnerable.

Just to get up and fight again, for his sun and moon. And for himself, too.

David is strong.

[quietmillennial]

Cuddly Counselors ™