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scarletwinterxx · 2 days

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morning with birthday boy - dad jeno scenario

Helllloooooo so i got this request for our birthday boy🥺🤍 extra fluffy for this very special day. Hope you like it!!!

omggg pls pls make a jeno dad scenario for his birthday, maybw surprising him or something ?? 🥹🥹🥹 imagine him having a son who looks exactly like him when he was a kid 😭😭

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

and if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

You and your son woke up early to make birthday pancakes for the birthday boy. It's a tradition that started years ago when you and Jeno started dating, he knew you loved pancakes so he took you out for breakfast and surprised you with a tall stack of your favorite pancake with a pink candle on top.

Now years later, here you are in your kitchen cooking pancakes with your son, Geonu, about to surprise your husband.

Geonu, now two years old, is at that age where you can let him join the fun. You love cooking and baking so usually he'd be right beside you as your little helper.

"Mommy, owy" his term for chocolate, pointing at the bowl of chocolate chips

"Want to put the choco chips? Okay, you do it like this" you carry him up, showing how and where to sprinkle it. You let him get a handful before you do the same, a few got stuck between his fingers and he immediately taste it

"You silly boy, you only wanted to get the chocolate huh" you tickle him, eliciting giggles from your little boy. Geonu is a splitting imagine of Jeno, when he was born and Jeno's mom said he look3d exactly like Jeno when he was born. And as the years passed by Geonu's showing more resemblance with his father.

Your favorite one being their identical eye smile.

You finish cooking the pancakes, fixing a stack to surprise Jeno with. Carrying the plate in one hand and Geonu with your other.

Opening your bedroom door, you see your husband still fast asleep. His bare back towards the door, you set Geonu on the bed and he immediately crawls towards his dad. Climbing on his back and laying his head right on Jeno's head.

Jeno feels something on his cheek, something settles on his back too. After a few seconds he can feel something wet on his cheek, a tiny voice gurggling.

A smile appears on his face before he could even open his eyes. He peaks with one eye, turning to see you at the edge of the mattress with a plate of pancakes and his son giving him his morning kisses

"Good morning, happy birthday baby" you tell him. He carefully move Geonu from his back to his lap, sitting up to blow the candle

"Geonu, let's make a wish. Okay 1 2 3" the little boy blowing the candle with Jeno, you sit infront your boys watching them with smitten eyes

"Thank you, baby" he tells you, leaning over to give you a kiss

"So how does it feel to be a year older?"

"I'm only a few months older, this would be you soon" he teases you back

One of many birthdays you've celebrated together and now you have your little bundle of joy to celebrate with. There's really nothing Jeno would wish for, he already has everything he needs. He used to wonder if settling down was something he'd do, he didn't really see himself as a family man. He's fine being on his own until he met you.

Ever since then, there isn't a moment he wanted to be alone ever again. He knew he was going to spend the rest of his birthdays with you the moment you smiled so big at him at that breakfast diner a few years ago.

He finally knew what real contentment feels and it's this. Mornings with you and the little boy who is equal parts of him and you. Celebrating birthdays with a tradition the two of you made.

"Let's have breakfast downstairs, I made eggs and bacon and coffee" you tell him, getting Geonu from then standing up from the bed.

Jeno sets the plate down on the bedside table before giving you a hug by the waist. Your hand finds his hair, giving him a half hug.

"I love you so so so much" he mumbles, looking up at you

You lean down to kiss him again, after a few seconds you feel a hand separate the two of you making the two of you laugh

"Uhhhh what is this? She's mine before she was yours" Jeno tells his son, giving his tummy tickles.

"Okay okay let's go get breakfast, we have a full day ahead. You go get dressed" you tell Jeno, knowing full well what's underneath the sheets

He smirks at you, waving as you walk out the door

After a few seconds you peak your head by the door, "I love you too" you say then you walk away. Jeno smiles, his eyes disappearing as the familiar feelings envelops him again. Like he's falling inlove with you for the first time again.

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martacorss · 3 days

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outside-director · 11 hours

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#streetart #no bra day #antique car #yongguk #olivia cooke #pensieri #neville goddard #itachi uchiha #classic literature #decor #gayteen #story #fireworks

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tiana4evahh · 2 days

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Okay can we talk about how 'down to earth' or 'calm and collective' Cole is?

He's never really 'angry.' The biggest it's been is him making a snarky remark or two. Unless it's with the villain (even then it's pretty tame), Cole's never been truly angry. (Unless if you count the Nya love triangle, but I don't because it's kind of... you know)

Maybe it's just me, but I feel like Cole just hides his anger. Like, he just pushes it all down, doesn't let it show. He's supposed to be the leader (kind of), the calm one, the serious one, the responsible one, and those types of people don't get angry.

So he takes away that anger, stuffs it into a jar, and pushes it to the back of the top shelf.

But it's still there. It's still there, being added onto every single day. It's not gone. It's getting bigger, and bigger, and bigger. And it's getting harder to hit.

He's constantly slipping out rude comments and mean remarks, even when he doesn't need them. He tries to hide them, because doesn't want anyone to see that side of himself. The side that's pissed, tired, angry, and just so damn done.

At one point though, I believe there's a time that he just snaps. Whether it's with the team or in battle (it's one of those I haven't decided yet), he just loses it. (He has a right too though). Better yet, it starts with the team, and ends in a battle.

If it's with the crew, it's probably because they're arguing over a mission, and they're talking sides and it's out of control, and Cole just wants them to calm down and stop yelling and fighting until he starts yelling. He yells that they need to shut up and get themselves together, because they're a team and they have a mission to do and they need to do it.

While they ready to leave, he's still pissed. That yelling wasn't enough. He needed to get more out, he needed to let more go.

When they're in battle, he takes it in his own hands.

Cole just... lashes out. He runs into battle, yelling, his sword in the arm. Kicking, punching, taking down guys. It leaves the crew in a miniature shock for a second. They've all seen how well Cole can fight, but never like this. This? This was pure anger, this was blind rage.

He takes out every single piece of anger out in the battle. He's taken down like 20 guys and still is taking down more. At the end, he's tired and weak, and his body hurts.

But it felt so good.

#Oh but what do I know?#ninjago #lego ninjago #cole brookstone #ninjago cole #ninjago headcanons #headcanons #story #kind of #i'm planning to write this as a 2k work later #MY idea please dont steal #Cole is underrated #cole is underrated #cole angst #fighting as therapy #self-projecting what no wydm

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folklorespring · 23 hours

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Old couple evacuating from occupied Kherson region in Ukraine.

Hanna is blind, Volodymyr almost can't walk. Volunteer says that woman was the first to cross the border, they put her on an evacuation cart, but she refused to go further until she felt her husband's hand in her hand. So they waited by the border for Volodymyr. They continued the evacuation only when Volodymyr arrived and Hanna made sure by touch that it's the hand of her husband.

#ukraine #russia #russia is a terrorist state #genocide #fuck russia #stand with ukraine #support ukraine #genocide of ukrainians #russian war crimes #love #kherson #photography #people #ph #photo #peoplehood #story #txt

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temiree · 5 hours

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…………………….. Previous Page | First Page | Next Page …………………..

As promised here's a new page before the end of the month!

Page 98 is up early on Patreon for $10 supporters, as well as progress images showing the process of creating every page!

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omc-if · 3 days

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Try to keep your head to yourself.

When the brewing fight for territorial disputes were arising when you were but a young child, the Solivian ministry of your Kingdom had to choose a mean to survive.

Death in honor or live in guilt.

And you were the fruit of their own choice, the Promised; sheltered and kept safe until you are of the ripe age to be handed to the enemy Empire.

“Remember, you are not free. Watch yourself,” You briefly remember the fretting in your brother's tone, scared and nervous. “You are on your own now.” The same brother that allowed you to be whisked away without a fight.

“Survive.”

LINKS : DEMO, ABOUT THE ROS

Design your Clematis; name, gender, appearance, personality.

Be morally challenged and make decisions that will shape the story, let your choices decide which route will it take you to.

Stats free, just enjoy and immerse yourself in a fictional fantasy world, pick the choices that will shape your character for who they are and will be.

Oh My Clematis is a dark fantasy interactive fiction, set in a fantasy medieval period where you play as a royal who is promised to the enemy Empire in exchange for your Kingdom's peace.

Content Warnings: death, discrimination, abuse, trauma, morally questionable behavior, violent and explicit themes, and more. Viewers discretion is advised and appropriate only for 18+

THE HAILED CROWN, the next in line to the throne. Meticulous and wise, as the next ruler, he is expected to be anything but short from perfection. He is widely known as a just ruler. Can only be romanced by a female mc.

Régis

THE TYRANNICAL PRINCE, zealous and cunning are the two words that best describe him, he always has the last say to anything and everything. Venture deeper into the abyss, only then will you feel the gleam of his gaze.

Quentin

THE BLADE, though the winter solstice has passed since, nothing could warm the depth of his heart. Cold and biting, like the strike of his blade when it catches and tears the enemies away. Can only be romanced by a male mc.

Reynaud

THE WHIMSICAL HOST, the youngest in the family, not much is known about them but the fact that they seemingly disappear every now and then. They're neither a prince nor a princess, but maybe they can be your people.

Reymonde

THE BRAVE HEART, a princess that possesses a heart stronger than anyone. But what she wants is neither the throne nor the title, but freedom to be nothing.

Fleur

THE VIPER, she's not exactly one you can hold down. Deadly like a boa, a princess who reigns over the social circle, influence greater than none and if there is, the viper can strike it down.

Clemence

THE ONE WHO REIGNS, the favored child of the old emperor, loved and cherished for her humble and kind personality. A friendly individual in a place filled with predators. Can only be romanced by a female mc.

René

#dashingdon #choicescript #interactive fiction #interactive game #interactive novel #choice of games #cog #wip #dark fantasy #story #omc #Oh My Clematis #dark romance #18+#+18

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theheartlessspirit · 3 days

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Chapter 1 (Old Acquaintance) - page 27

previous || next

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words-on-pa-per · 2 days

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OKAY TIME FOR ME TO GO TRY MY HAND AT ROMANCE IN GENERAL. I’m crude and a beginner, so if this isn’t your thing, then just skip past it, I’ll continue doing my normal stuff.

“I don’t know how to do this fucking spreadsheet!”

“…Then why don’t you do-“

“Don’t say it.”

“…me.”

(Pls don’t murder me)

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develop-your-villain · 3 days

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Which OC looks like a villain but isn't one? Do they get mistaken for a villain in-universe as well as out of it?

#oc #character development #oc tag #original character #tag your oc #villain oc #villain #antihero #story #characters #deceptive appearance

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dokidokiliteraturegirls · 2 days

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Update #26: Something Warmer

Oof, this took a while to finish! But I hope the wait was worth it and you enjoy this update as well~ Thanks to everyone who sent a vote 💖

Access the Menu (May contain spoilers if you’re not up to date with the comic)

Read on Webtoons

#story #feel less #illustration #webcomic #artists on tumblr #digital art

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martacorss · 2 days

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write-on-world · 20 hours

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#writing #writers on tumblr #writers #writing prompt #writer #my writing #daily writing prompt #daily writing #writing tool #story #write it

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glacierruler · 1 day

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Making the Future

Please reblog my writing <3

Ao3

Masterpost

If you'd like a chapter out early, every $30 towards my kofi goal is an early chapter!

You can see the chapter schedule here

CWs: Fantasy Racism, Explosions

Taglist: @duck-in-a-spaceship @cutebisexualmess @oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat @disco-and-vinyl @pandagobrr

Please tell me if you'd like to be added/removed!

Chapter 2

The next day, Fig was at their workshop, inspecting the robot. While they had looked at it yesterday, it had been a quick glance, and they wanted to make sure they didn’t miss anything that could give away their location.

After ten minutes of searching the thing, Fig couldn’t find any trackers, so they started to take it apart, carefully. Although they still weren’t sure of the best way to do it, since a robot is a rare find. Using their gloves, they donned their gas mask, and started unscrewing the robot. It was a long process before they could access the wires in the arm. Slowly, they started to try to figure out what the wires did. However, too late, they noticed that not all the wires were connected. And within a few minutes, the robot started to heat up.

‘So this is why this one was scrapped,’ they thought to themselves, before using the little magic they knew to protect themself from the blast.

As scorching heat emanated through the workshop, Fig couldn’t help but be grateful that they didn’t obey the laws, since they would be dead by now if they didn’t use any magic. Still, the heat hurt, and their ever painful legs only got worse with the horrid temperature. And now they couldn’t even use their walker, as, if it was still functional, it wasn’t safe to touch any of it for another few hours. It took a few minutes, but eventually the heat died down, and the robot was no longer shooting fire throughout the workshop. And Fig left, just in case someone saw it, just in case someone heard, just in case a Sentry found out.

Rushing away as fast as they could, albeit pretty slowly with their legs flarin up, they managed to find a rather large house in the woods. Looking around quickly, they figured out pretty quickly that it wasn’t abandoned. There were sheep in a nice pasture, and there were a couple fenced off pastures that were growing more grass. And there was, what they assumed to be an abattoir, a little ways off. While Fig was never a huge fan of them, there were a couple in town, but it did keep everyone as fed as they could be. (Although most of the food from the outskirts went to cities and surrounding areas. But it did keep people from moving out there too often, so Fig thought it was a win-win situation.)

“Who are you?” Came a thick, gruff, voice behind them. Jumping, Fig turned around to see an orc.

“Uh… I’m so sorry—”

“Why are you wearing a gas mask?”

“Right, um…” Fig wasn’t sure how to answer that without saying something incriminating. “It’s in fashion?”

“Is that why your clothes are singed too, is it also part of some fashion statement?” The orc sounded slightly amused, as if he no, they, found Fig’s answers amusing. (Fig really needed to get better at not gendering people they just met.)

Still, they didn’t have an answer for the orc that lived here, and it was a little hard to focus on figuring out a decent lie, when it was getting harder for them to keep standing by the second. The heat had really amplified their leg pain, and they didn’t have their walker, since it had been in the fire at their workshop. Which meant that there was a good chance that Fig would have to remake it, or at least remake the wooden seat.

The orc seemed to notice their unsteadiness, as they looked at them.

“Stay here. I’ll get you something to sit on. Mind you it’ll be uncomfortable,” And Fig just nodded, watching as they went into their house. As the orc came back, carrying two large wooden seats, Fig couldn’t help but be grateful, glad to sit down on something. Rather than being forced to stand through what was bound to be an awkward conversation.

“So,” the orc started to speak, after placing down the chairs, “what are you doing over in these parts of the woods. And none of that, ‘Fashion statement’ crap. You’re practically on fire, and hiding your face at that, might as well be honest.”

Fig wasn’t sure what to do, or how to lie their way out of this situation. But they certainly couldn’t say the truth. They didn’t want to risk someone going to the sentries and snitching on them.

“Look, I’m no snitch, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Could this orc read their thoughts?

“Why would I be worried about a snitch?” Their voice was too high pitched, there was no way this orc would believe them for a second. This thought was only proved to be correct when their companion raised an eyebrow at them.

“Want to try again?”

“Look, it’s really not that big of a deal…” Fig tried to search for something to say, something that wouldn’t land them in trouble.

“How about we start over. I’m Glorgol, Glorgol Oxcsham. I live here, in this wonderful, secluded area. In order to stay safe from the same sentries that you don’t want me telling about you.”

Fig was very glad for the mask right about now, as their face was beet red from being called out like that.

“Okay, um… I’m, uh… Look will what I say stay between the two of us?”

“I got no plans to tell noone.”

Fig knew they shouldn’t trust someone they just met, but there was no way they’d get out of this without telling them.

“I, okay, I was, I take scrap metals and devices, and…” Fig was trying to figure out the best way to put what they do into words, “and I invent things? Sort of? It uh, it didn’t go too well this time. My workshop blew up, meaning I’ll have to build a new one. I ran here because, well because it was the direction I ran. And I just happened to find your place here.”

“How do I know that you aren’t lying to me again?” Which was a fair question, Fig did try to get passed the weirdness of a wearing a gas mask by saying it was a fashion trend. (Seriously, a fashion trend? What were they thinking?)

“Uh, okay, Glorgol right,” at the orc’s nod, Fig kept talking, “I could show you the charred remains of the base. But, I should warn you, I have no idea if the sentries know about it with the explosion that kind of happened.”

“If we get close enough, the stench of charred whatever it was your workshop was made out of, should coat the air. Along with the lingering smell of smoke.”

Oh yeah, smoke smells, and so does burnt wood. Fig forgot that little fact on their run from the burning workshop.

“Right, well then, follow me!” Fig hopped of their chair as Glorgol followed them through the woods. Although, they were limping slightly, trying to use each leg as little as possible, since they both still hurt as if though something was stabbing them.

Fig could feel Glorgol staring at them, probably trying to figure out what was wrong with their legs. Which fair enough, even Fig wanted to know why their legs hated them. Still, the marched on in silence, until they smelled it, the suffocating smoke that Fig had escaped earlier.

“Alright, I believe you. Would you like to go back to my place?”

“I,” Fig probably shouldn’t trust them, but Glorgol hadn’t tried to kill them since they met, despite Fig’s trespassing, and they couldn’t exactly go home like this, “sure.”

Walking back, Fig couldn’t help but hope to be able to sit back down again. And soon. It had been ages since their legs had hurt this badly, and they didn’t know how much longer they could walk without collapsing. Still, Fig was a bit uncomfortable, sure Glorgol had been kind so far, but what if it was a ruse of some sort? They didn’t know this humanoid before today, could they really trust them?

Although, considering the compassion they had shown when Fig was having trouble standing up earlier, they felt guilty thinking Glorgol was going to harm them in some way. So they kept following them, trying to shake their anxiety, knowing that they could defend themselves on the extremely low chance that anything would actually happen.

******************

Fig felt a bit out of place as they sat on the seats in Glorgol’s kitchen. They weren’t sure what to do with anything. Should they talk or stay silent? Should they help with something or stay where they were?

Thankfully Glorgol broke the silence first.

“Are you going to take off that mask?”

“Oh, sure.” Taking off their mask, Fig sighed, the weight on their head no longer nearly as heavy.

“Still haven’t caught your name, if you’d be inclined to share it.”

“Oh, I’m Fig.”

“Fig, interesting name for an interesting lady.”

Wincing a bit, they couldn’t help but try not to sigh. This would either go well or horribly wrong.

“I, uh, I’m not a lady. Or a sir!” Rushing in that last bit so that Glorgol wouldn’t go that route either.

“Alright then, not a gal, not a lad. May I ask what you are?”

“Er… that’s, that’s a complicated matter for now. But I do use neutral pronouns, they/them and such.”

“Alright. Well in that case, I will divulge that I am a gent myself.”

Fig nodded, feeling relieved that the conversation went so well. Maybe it hadn’t been their best choice to start that conversation in the middle of nowhere, but they had been kind of exhausted with being gendered that really, it didn’t matter so much if the talk hadn’t gone well. (Although they were definitely anxious about it and could have been more tactful just in case, but Fig had never been one for tact).

Mind wandering onto the events of earlier today, they were hit with one thing.

“I don’t have a workshop anymore!”

#Fantasy Racism #Explosions #glacier's stories #glacier's writing #glacier's original story #making the future #story #original story #writeblr #writer #writers on tumblr

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