#qravedug

CHALLENGERS (2024) PROMPTS / accepting .

rolling her eyes , gwen was trying to be resourceful and helpful given the situation . she didn't expect a carnivorous babysitter had been looking after her child for the best part of a month . . . still , rhys did the interview so it's his fault really . the alien had information on jack but would only give it up in exchange for going back through the rift . . . of course .

with anwen rest on her hip , john begins to argue with her after. rejecting his idea to kill it . there's a reason they hadn't been eaten for over a month , but it explained the amount of local missing pets . sighing . turning to the alien tied to her dining room chair . she's surprisingly calm about the whole thing .

❛ sorry about him , one sec . ❜ excusing herself from their presence , she follows him into the living room . ❛ oh no . john's walking away from a grown up conversation . . . the world is going to end . ❜ sarcasm oozing from her , there would have been a time where he'd get a rise out of her . . . but so much has changed .

PROMPTS FROM BATMAN : ARKHAM ASYLUM / accepting .

she was excited at the idea of a date night with george , but she was less excited now it had snowballed into a double date with mitchell and annie . inspecting herself in the mirror , judging if the outfit was far too much or if it was the earrings and matching necklace . less is more , right ? she sighs , removing the necklace and tossing it to the bedside table . nina had her suspicions about how mitchell had manipulated george into this and suddenly it felt like they were joined at the hip . she hated him . useless , arrogant , greasy looking piece of dribble piss .

applying lip gloss in the mirror , grabbing her clutch and legging it downstairs . only a small spritz of perfume , she didn't want to overpower her sense of smell . she's definitely late , hearing george and annie squabble outside in the back of a taxi . the taxi driver thinks george should be sectioned by the looks of things .

searching for her mobile , the house is poorly lit and of course , she misses count wankula sat in the corner . his voice causes her to jump . she spins to face that pathetic pale streak of nothing . ❛  JESUS CHRIST !   ❜ much use he is now . . . seriously . she's furious . ❛  HONESTLY , FUCK YOU !   ❜ she growls in his direction before her eyes find his through the darkness .

@qravedug

The night started out well, like it usually did. Multiple shots of evil tequila had been passed between them after very little convincing from John in the form of a cheeky smile, and a playful challenge in his tone about how he'd drink his boyfriend under the table, anyway. How was he supposed to not rise to the competition? Naturally, John did drink him under the table, much to his minor annoyance when the other hooted and hollered about his victory. But the feelings quickly disappeared when John picked him up from the barstool, spinning him around until he giggled like a drunk idiot, and then kissed him once he'd brought him back down to the ground before skipping back to the bar. It was hard to be mad with his partner when he pulled stunts like that.

Whilst he straightened out his sequin skirt and jacket, Irvine caught the tail end of a conversation between John and some stranger at the bar. Though, to call it a conversation felt incorrect. It was more of an argument. He stumbled over to the scene on his sparkly heels, catching snippets of accusations about drink theft. Silly man, he didn't know what he'd gotten himself into.

It turned out they'd both ordered the same drink, both assuming that the first one placed on the bar belonged to them. Irvine let the two continue bickering and helped himself to the drink instead, only to be jolted backwards when the stranger threw the first punch. "Heeeyyy!" He hissed, the white material of his clothing suddenly stained green. Of course, both men ignored his peril, now too involved with brawling to notice the damsel. Disgusting. No one got away with ignoring him.

Irvine stalked after them across the scattered and broken dancefloor, shards of glass crunching to dust beneath his boots as he stomped his way through. "Hey, stop it!" Grabbing hard at both men, he tried to pry them apart on height advantage alone, and caught an elbow in the face for his damn troubles from the stranger. Oh, hell no! He went to grab the guy, but instead got hauled up by a mean looking security guard. The immediate protests fell on deaf ears, what did he do wrong?! There wasn't even enough time to reach for the gun in his matching purse. The outrage of it all!

The next few minutes passed in a blur of flailing limbs and vicious insults as he, John, and the instigator were all tossed outside the club doors with a warning to never return to said premises. Irvine kicked at the door after it'd been closed, and then turned on the other two, intending to let them have it. But when his eyes caught John, he didn't like what he saw: the blood, the bruises forming that he instinctively wanted to take care of. Any anger he held moments ago, melted away--not for the other guy though, who still remained wildly angry if looks meant anything.

As if on cue, his boyfriend started laughing at the situation, and slurring about being thrown down the stairs. Because, of course, despite it all, he was having a good time. Never a dull night with this guy. But as far as Irvine was concerned, this fight was over, and the second the guy began to make a move, he struck first. Grabbing him by the shirt, he punched him square in the nose and sent said guy flying down the stairs in his partner's place. "Only I get to throw you down the stairs, sweetheart." He grumbled, fondness seeping into the vague threat.

@qravedug

The world was a hazy, pleasant blur, full of bright city lights, city noises, city smells, and teeming with other people as intoxicated as himself. Irvine didn't remember much of the evening so far, only that some guy in the last bar had very rudely said a pretty boy couldn't out drink him after he rejected his advances on the principle that he'd not long ago gotten married, two months ago to be precise. But he'd slung pretty boy at him like some kind of insult, and naturally, he'd taken that personally. Last, he recalled, the guy ended up face down on the floor after the sixteenth shot, and Irvine felt particularly smug about that.

Where were they going now and why? He'd asked because he really didn't know, though had apparently been told. John held his hand firmly in a grip, dragging him along through the streets, and he was okay with that. That's what husbands were for, right? Everything would be fine if he was with him. "Mmm, do I? You know i'unno how to shuddup, baaaabbyyy." The younger one slurred, waving excitedly and saying hello to a group of pretty young ladies as they passed. They giggled at him in return, and he threw a wink before being tugged out of sight.

"Man, whatever they put in that vodka, sure has a wild kick." A snort combined with a laugh followed when he realised what he'd said. Oh, silly drunk brain. "It was probably vodka in the vodka. That makes sense." Nodding, the surrounding world spun briefly, and he squeezed John's hand in his. "Can you believe that guy thought he had my ass clocked? Shoulda shoved a shot glass up his ass before we left. Like, bye bitch, take that!" Alcohol had a tendency to bring out his more violent urges, tequila being the number one offender. Many a bar brawls were started after a bottle of it.

@qravedug

He used to dream of days like these: waking up to the warm sunlight sitting in the distance, a sweet country breeze, the sound of birds twittering and bugs chirping, the smell of good coffee brewing in a pot, and the quiet coos of a tiny baby snuggled up against his chest. Somehow, he'd made it here, and the dreams were no longer dreams, they were real.

Baby Gray ( rest in peace, brother ), barely over a month old, born with a full head of dark curls, and eyes as blue as his babas. They'd thought for sure his eyes would be brown since brown was a dominant eye colour, yet were pleasantly surprised to discover Gray inherited John's eyes instead. Almost everyone at the hospital remarked on what a pretty baby he was, and Jack had to agree, this little boy was perfection itself. The love he felt for him was overwhelming, making him feel crazy.

"Oh, here comes yer daddy, kiddo." He spotted him through the kitchen window, then beamed down at Gray, who briefly perked up at his voice with that same sweet coo that melted his old heart all over again. "He don't look too happy, though," Jack added, whispering as if it were something his husband might still hear all the outside, then throw a glare his way. As if on cue, the man in question stomped into the house moments later, slamming the door behind him. Jack smiled to himself. "Yep. He's definitely grumpy." He briefly wondered if Gray might inherit John's temper one day...

Whilst waiting for his other half to appear, he busied himself with pouring them some coffee, the only kind of drugs they enjoyed these days apart from an occasional cigarette. "Still havin' issues with that your words, not mine---piece of shit, fence?" He asked upon hearing the scrape of a chair over kitchen tile. A soft laugh escaped him when he heard the reply, and a moment later, a fresh cup of coffee appeared in front of John. "You could still call a guy to come do it for ya." Though, they both knew he wouldn't, he was far too stubborn for that, especially having built the place with his own hands.

my muse leans in, their breath warm against your muse's skin as they whisper, "you're enjoying this, aren't you?" @qravedug

Life after Torchwood had proved to be challenging. After spending all those centuries following a righteous mission, he'd suddenly lost purpose overnight, and didn't know exactly what to do with himself. Jack knew what he wanted from this chapter of his life, to find lost parts of him that'd been buried beneath a heavy military coat. At some point during his time as captain, he'd become a ghost of his former self. Sure, that guy wasn't exactly a sweet peach, but that version of him had known some happiness. Jack couldn't remember the last time he felt genuine and prolonged happiness.

It was John, his long-suffering husband, who'd suggested a bit of playtime to kickstart a nice surge of dopamine. Naturally, playtime to John meant a heist of some kind, and once upon a time, it'd meant the same thing to him too. So, why not? A good time with a nice reward at the end.

Just like the old days, they'd carefully selected their target. A smallish bank on Corvon IV and its transportation ship that was due to make a large transfer of credits to its main branch in the next galaxy over. Over the course of a few days, they studied the carrier, learning everything they could about it, from its infrastructure to its crew, and what was needed to crack the holding bay where the credits awaited. For the first time in a long while, Jack found himself fully occupied with a project that didn't involve the impending collapse of planet Earth. When the time came to pull the job off, his good luck ritual of kissing his husband beforehand lasted a little longer than usual as a sort of thanks, of course, he knew what to do to pull him out of a funk...he always had.

As expected, they were met with resistance once aboard, the shooty kind, out in the depths of space. Unfortunately, for security, guns would never deter Jack Harkness because he'd been brought up with a gun in his hand. A gun fight was just a good Friday night to him. He felt in his element when hitting a target from down an angle where most wouldn't make the shot, and getting to show off was always nice.

The first wave of security retreated quicker than he would've liked, right when he began to feel at home again. Still, it gave him and John time to inch closer to the holding bay whilst the crew regrouped. He summoned the other man back to him with a sharp whistle lest he get distracted by something else shiny. Then, he occupied himself with cracking the code on the next door, hooking up the decoder easily and letting it do its thing.

her features crease , a display of grief and anguish . ari had been cursed . taking a deep breath , fighting through the sea of mourning . ❛ you have some fucking cheek ! fuck the gods , fuck you and fuck the rest of them !   ❜ almost spitting in his direction .