#if it was a summoning gone wrong

[poobirdy]

a bingqiu witches x xianxia fusion, as prompted by cass and fulfilled as part of an ongoing fundraising event at svsss gotcha 4 gaza!

[luxaofhesperides]

Soulmate AU: First Words + End of the World ; requested by @justwannabecat!

Duke has long since accepted that he doesn’t have great luck. Most things in his life tend to go wrong very quickly, or complicate situations he was already struggling in (see: being a meta and getting his powers in the middle of a fight). Having an incomprehensible soulmark is an unpleasant discovery on the morning of his nineteenth birthday, but not entirely unexpected.

He had been hoping for something simple, a common one like hi it’s nice to meet you or sorry, didn’t mean to bump into you.

What Duke gets instead isn’t even words. 

Scrawled across his left hipbone is a string of symbols glowing a faint green. They’re not in a language he recognizes, and the symbols seem to move, shifting ever so slightly so they look different every time he blinks.

“Well,” he says after a solid five minutes of staring into the mirror, unable to rip his eyes off his soulmate’s words, “I hope theirs looks nicer than mine.”

He spends his birthday in a bit of a daze, enjoying time spent with the Waynes and his friends. It’s hard to be fully present when he’s all too aware of the soreness on his hipbone flaring up each time he moves. It’s hard to keep his mind off of it, wanting nothing more than to search for answers, unravel the mystery of his soulmate’s first words.

“Something on your mind?” Jason asks, as the attention shifts off of him for a brief moment as Harper and Cullen get ready to leave and everyone rushes to give their goodbyes,

Duke shrugs, carefully keeping his hands still so they don’t drift to where his soulmark is hidden beneath his clothes. “Yeah. Nothing you need to worry about, though.”

Jason looks him over critically, then nods. 

Duke resigns himself to being investigated by the rest of the Bats. If he’s off enough that Jason had to comment on it, then that means everyone’s noticed and are trying to figure out what’s happened. They’re not going to ask him, because they think he needs space to work through whatever’s got him so distracted, but they’re also not going to just do nothing. 

This won’t be the first time they’ve done this. Duke expects it. Frankly, it would be stranger and much more concerning if they didn’t try to dig up all his secrets the moment they caught wind of him hiding something.

He’ll tell them about getting his soulmark soon. Soulmarks can appear on any birthday between the ages of thirteen to twenty five; they might suspect he got his, but they won’t be able to confirm.

For now, Duke can keep his soulmate’s first words (whatever that gibberish means) to himself.

He makes the decision then and there, as his birthday party winds down, to tell them in a week.

And because his luck is abysmal, a world ending threat hits five days later and suddenly there is no time for soulmarks and first words.

Duke is the last to arrive at the Fortress of Solitude, hitching a ride from Superboy to get there. The biting cold and the harsh winds keep the place far from the reaches of the rest of humanity, surrounded by nothing but deadly white. 

Desolate as the landscape is, it’s still in better shape than the rest of the world.

Things would be better if it was alien invaders. It would be more bearable if some sort of cosmic colossus tried to eat their solar system. At least then there would be something physical that they could fight.

Instead, the world is breaking apart, the sky and earth both fracturing to reveal glowing green faultlines. Timelines are getting mixed up and muddled; just yesterday, Duke had to evacuate a building that had been demolished forty years ago, then stop a gang leader who wouldn’t be born for another eight years from taking over a neighborhood block and holding the residents hostage. Strange creatures are appearing out of nowhere, crawling out of shadows and tide pools and from beneath the roots of trees, all horrible, monstrous things that go after people with teeth and claws. 

The Flashes and the rest of the speedsters are nowhere to be found. The last time anyone get communication from them, it had been Impulse sending Red Robin a glitchy, barely audible video chat saying something along the lines of “trying to fix—unstable—keep us here—never been alive before.” All things that are very concerning to hear, made worse by the fact that no one had been able to contact them at all. 

The quiet loneliness of the Fortress of Solitude is a welcome change from the constant screaming, death, and destruction that’s taken over Gotham as well as the rest of the world. Last he heard, even Justice League China was at the end of their rope. 

“In here,” Superboy instructs, guiding Duke through the halls. There’s no time to look around at Superman’s secret base. All his focus is stuck on staying conscious for another few hours to see if this gathering of heroes is able to find a solution to the world breaking apart.

Batman stands besides Superman. Both nod at Duke when he enters the room. Wonder Woman is watching over John Constantine as he writes something on the floor, muttering under his breath. The rest of the Justice League lean against each other, visibly exhausted as they wait for Constantine to finish up what he’s doing. A few other heroes are here too, and Duke goes to join them where they lean against a wall, fighting to keep their eyes open.

“Hey,” he greets, voice low. “Hanging in there?”

Wonder Girl sighs. “Somehow. I don’t know how much longer we can do this. There’s just too much…”

“We’ll get through this. I mean, even without us out there, plenty of civilians have formed rescue and relief groups to help with keeping things under control,” Speedy says, gently knocking her arm against Wonder Girl’s. “We just gotta keep going. No giving up.”

“What’s this plan, anyways? I just heard that they needed me here to some attempt to fix things.”

“Well, without the speedsters, you’re kind of the only one who can help with time and power related stuff,” Speedy says.

“That’s definitely a stretch. My powers don’t really have anything to do with time. It’s all just light and shadow.”

Speedy shrugs. “Well, you’re here, aren’t you? Too late to complain about it now.”

Duke doesn’t get a chance to say anything else when a loud clap catches his attention. The entire room goes still and silent as Constantine stands up and surveys the circle and symbols he’s written, taking up an entire corner of the large room. 

“Alright,” he says. “Time to get started. Remember, let me do the talking. If you have to speak, it’s only to back me up or when a question is directed to you.”

Batman nods to the other Justice Leaguers, and suddenly everyone is falling into formation behind Constantine. Duke hurries to join them with Wonder Girl and Speedy, taking a place on the edge of the group where he’s a little closer to the circle than the others. 

Constantine begins chanting. His voice is steady though none of the sounds make any sense, refusing to form themselves into recognizable words, and the air the in the room feels heavier. The chalk circle glows a blinding white and Duke can see magic swirling through the air, his power kicking in the let him watch as reality tears and a glowing star in the shape of a boy comes out of it.

Duke blinks, forcing his power down. The hypnotic swirls of magic fade from sight, but the boy still glows, bright and terrible as he floats above the circle and surveys them all. A crown engulfed in blue flame hovers above his head and the fabric of the cosmos is draped over his shoulders as a cape. 

Just from presence alone, Duke can tell that this figure is now the strongest existence in this universe. He hopes this boy king is kind; no one, not even Superman, would be able to beat him in a fight.

The boy king opens his mouth and speaks, but it’s not words than comes out. A strange static like sound emerges, but light and almost melodic. 

His left hipbone burns.

Duke gasps, hand flying down to it, and the boy king’s gaze snaps to meet his.

The world stands still. No one moves. No one dares to breathe.

And then the boy king drops to the floor and walks out of the circle.

“I thought you said that would hold him!” Batman hisses at Constantine, who is looking more and more distressed.

“It was supposed to! I wrote it specifically to hold the King of the Infinite Realms!”

The boy king glances at Constantine. This time, when he speaks, it’s in smooth English. “Did you name the king in your circle?”

“Yeah, I named Pariah Dark… Bloody hell, you ain’t him, are ya?”

“No,” the boy king smiles, “I’m Phantom.”

The cape and crown fade away, and suddenly it’s not an all powerful, terrifying king standing before them, but a young man with white hair and green eyes who looks Duke’s age. Like he could be any other new generation hero in the room. 

“Phantom,” Duke repeats lightly, just under his breath, but it makes Phantom look at him again.

He walks forward, ignoring the other heroes’ aborted attempts to stop him, coupled with Constantine’s frantic back off motion happening behind him. Phantom leaves the circle and the Justice Leaguers behind to stand before Duke, a soft smile on his face.

“Hi,” he says softly, “I dreamed of you.”

“You—what?”

“I dreamed of you. I have for years now. To think that being summoned was what made us meet—” Phantom breaks off into a breathless laugh.

Duke swallows, then drops his had from where it had been pressed against his hip. “So we’re really—? You have my first words too?”

In the corner of his eye, he sees Batman stiffen up. Maybe he should have just told them the day after his birthday, but in Duke’s defense, this is the definition of extenuation circumstances. 

“First words?” Phantom repeats, “Is that… Do we have different soulmate connections?”

“I think so. Here, everyone gets the first words their soulmates say to them appearing somewhere on their body.”

Phantom’s gaze darts down to Duke’s hip, then back up. “Oh. I get dreams. Where I’m from, we dream of our soulmates, and the closer we get to meeting them, the more we remember the dreams.”

“And you dreamed of me.”

“I did.”

“As touching as this is,” Constantine interrupts, and Duke gets to watch as Phantom rolls his eyes, “We summoned you here for a reason. Our world is falling apart at the seams and we need someone powerful, from the Realms, to help us fix it.”

“Okay.”

“...What do you mean ‘okay’?”

“I’ll help,” Phantom says.

“Just like that? No deal to be made, no price to be paid?”

“Just like that. I’m not one for deals anyways. If I can help, then I will. But I do want to see what the problem is with my soulmate by my side, if you don’t mind.”

Batman steps in, fixing Duke with a steady gaze, a barely noticeable tilt of his head. “Signal?”

“Yeah I’ll go with him. Of course I will. The sooner the better, in fact, because everything’s gone to shit.” Duke turns to Phantom, taking hold of one of his hands. “It is really bad out there,” he warns, “If you need help—”

“I’ll ask for help from others in the Realms,” Phantom says. “No offense or anything, but if it’s really that bad, I doubt living mortals will be able to do much to fix things. It’s why I was summoned, right?”

“Right. Let’s get to it, then.”

There’s a flash of mischief in Phantom’s eyes, and cheeky grin stealing across his face for a moment, before he says, “Aye aye, captain!” and picks Duke up like he weighs nothing and flies up through the ceiling.

Duke is able to hear everyone’s surprised, panicked shouts before they’re outside the Fortress of Solitude and Phantom is flying them away. He only needs a few directions from Duke before he finds the first of the large fractures in the sky.

“Yikes,” is all he says, which is not a great thing to hear. “I think I know how to fix it, though. We’ll need to do a little investigating as to who, exactly, started messing around with reality, but once we find the source, it’ll be an easy fix.”

“That’s the best news I’ve heard all week.”

“Even better than meeting your soulmate?”

“I haven’t slept for more than four hours all week. Knowing there’s an end in sight beats everything else.”

Phantom laughs, throwing his head back and Duke can’t help but drink in the sight of him, so ethereal and bright and full of life. “Fair enough! Got any ideas as to where we should start?”

“I’ve got an entire crew of detective vigilantes,” Duke replies. He’s not taking any more chances. No more waiting to talk about important things; he messed up by keeping his soulmark to himself, so he needs to make sure everyone meets his soulmate before shit goes south again. 

“Let’s go find them, then!”

They take off again, soaring through the skies that are barely holding themselves together. 

The world is still ending, and every hero is being stretched thin, but held carefully in Phantom’s arms, racing head first into a solution, Duke can’t help but feel that everything’s going to be alright now. 

He’s had enough bad luck. Now, his soulmate with him, bearing the title of King with grace, things are finally starting to look up.

[kizzer55555]

I had a crack idea and I really like your content I was wondering if you would like to hear it

Damien had an Over The Moon moment with Danny

Over The Moon Is about a little girl while building a rocket to the moon to meet a goddess so she can get advice about accepting the death of her mother

As a child Damien remembers one of his caretakers telling him the story of the god Phantom how something happened to him and how he floated up and away to space and became their God but could never see his family or friends ever again

Story that Damian got told was incredibly popular one in the infinite realms about King Phantom after he had to shut down the portals to the infinite rounds from the human world to keep the ghost safe and himself

And the ghost saw this heavily liminal child is like oh let me tell him the story of the space god Phantom

This was when Damien was still dueling Talia to find out who his birth father is and like a few days before his birthday Damien actually did find a portal that led to the infinite Realms

He ended up meeting ghosts like the Box Ghost or Johnny 13 and Kitty and going on a big adventure to the infinite rounds to meet High King Phantom who encouraged him to venture out there and find out about what it's connected to him

And turn there was a portrait made of Damien and Danny of Danny being in Royal where in Damien sitting on his lap with the brightest smile on his face

Damien ends up going back home and never telling anyone else in the League of assassins or in bat family about his adventure in the infinite Realms and king Phantom

Damien ends up getting into it like a really bad argument with Bruce and feeling unwanted so decided to go back you get advice from Phantom it ended up taking Jon with him

The bat family have to realizing that Damien's gone missing are spending most of their time trying to find Damien when Constantine calls them and shows them a portrait of Damien and the ghost King

Which leads the bat family thinking that Damian got kidnapped by the ghost King probably because of the Lazarus pits while Damian and Jonathan are out there living their Disney adventure

So the bat family and Constantine summon the Ghost came to the man Damien back while Damien trying to convince Danny at the world is changing that he might be able to go back home and see the people he loves

Anyway I just kept having the idea of Damian singing my rocket to the moon but changing out the lyrics

Anyway I hope you like my dumb idea and you might watch Over The Moon it's really good movie

This is such a cool idea! Unfortunately I don’t know much about over the moon but here’s my little spin on this idea.

The Justice league do the summoning but unfortunatly, they are still under the impression that the ghost king is Pariah Dark. So there is a bit of interference. So the summoning latches onto the last person to touch Pariah Dark (AKA his coffin) and while Danny did defeat the previous king in single combat, he wasn’t the one to turn the key. No, the last person to touch Pariah Dark was one Vlad Plasmius. So when the JL starts the summoning, they get a very confused Plasmius and before he can comprehend what’s happening a bunch of angry and colorful adults just start demanding that he return Damian.

Vlad has no idea who these people are. He has no idea who this Damian kid is. And no matter what he says, none of these strange costumed adults believe him! He’s not even the ghost king!

JL: lies. Lies and slander.

And THEN, ooooh, and then he wasn’t the only one summoned. For Maddie the cat was right there and unfortunately got caught in the summoning because it was feeding time. And because she wasn’t a ghost, naturally she was able to wander outside the circle. The JL, having multiple interactions with Kalrion assume this is the ghost king’s familiar and snatch up the fluffy white cat.

Vlad can only stare in horror.

The. Pure. AUDACITY.

You know what? FINE! Yes! It is I! The ghost king! I have your PrEcIOse little boy! You want him back?! THEN GIVE ME BACK MY CAT!

So here Damian and Jon are, having the time of their lives, chilling in a strangely warm ice castle with Danny and telling him their problems, giving Cujo scratches and meanwhile, Vlad is screaming bloody murder from his summoning circle.

JL: give us back our child!

Vlad: Give me back my princess before I ERaSe YouR exIStaNce and I’ll think about it [insert intelligible ghost swear]

Constantine: *dramatic gasp* How DARE you?!

[fisheito]

I was bewitched by slutty Eiden with bunny ears but he sent homecoming Snakeboi instead, on my last pull on the last day!!!! Evil Eiden *cries*

😔

eiden dealing with all the last-minute summons like i cannot be everywhere at once . COVER FOR ME *shoves clan member into the fray* someone trying to summon eiden: NOOOOO WHY!!!! THIS IS MY LAST CHANCE 😭😭😭 THIS IS HOW GRUDGES ARE MADE

[gojonanami]

why is it that all I can think about is corruption, sukuna, and a good girl!reader

[isabeauwolf]

Made an Overhaul, Kai Chisaki summoning circle-ish thingy 🙏🥰 Did it work?

Nope.... Summoned my other fictional husbands, shit.

Wait! Gimme my OverSmol back! Jealous dorks!

@cherry-queens-blog @doumadono @chainslobber @angelblueflame @staitc-rj @fairymama624

Feel free 😉 to play along, reuse and tag me

[friedshrimp71]

Daybreak art dump

Psspspspsppspsspss come and feast daybreak enjoyers

[aa-400]

actually i am woobifying yellow a little seriously but thats a whole different convo.

[silly-hero-plush]

i can't even think of a caption for this one

[moss-feratu]

Uralesh will see a pile of minerals on the ground and be like "is anybody gonna eat that" and not wait for an answer

[croissntsblog]

Quick doodle of an Alina!book, moody drawing while listening to Solitude by M83, when she still got her brown hair yet she is succumbing to the shadows… what if the sun summoner gone bad

[batfamdannyphantomsstuff]

"The Gods wanted me dead and now you get to find out why."

DCxDP fanfic idea: Unwanted House Guest

Danny gets the bright idea to make his friends summoning disks in the case of emergencies. It's mostly due to a fight with a ghost that was so dangerous that his parents were forced to seal everyone in town behind another force field.

The only thing was, Danny winded up on the other side of it, seeing as no one realized Phantom and Fenton were one and the same. It took forever for Sam and Tucker to disable the force field, allowing Danny to go in and finish off the ghost wrecking havoc.

A metalsmith in the Zone made the disks for him using runes he selected for the design. The ghost had given Danny a warning before he started on the commission, repeatedly asking if the Halfa was certain he wanted to go through with it.

Apparently, the runes were a lost language of the Ancients, and while a direct translation was unavailable, he could make out that they would ensnare Danny to the summoner.

If that meant Danny would be their prisoner or forced to do their bidding, was anyone's guess. It was confirmed to be dangerous to even think of giving somone the chance to find out using Danny as a test subject.

But Danny trusted Sam and Tucker more than anyone in the multiverse. He pushed through with the disks.

The disks were disguised to look like a necklace, and when thrown like a Frisbee, the runes would activate and pull him to the location it landed in.

Danny was happy to see it was able to bypass forced fields, solid walls, long distances, and giving his friends means to get help as quickly as possible.

It was all well and good until Sam lost her necklace. Or more like she put it down in her room to shower, and her mother had gone through her room to throw away "problematic" belongings. Her parents had gotten it into their heads that Sam needed a firmer hand in changing her Gothic outlook on life and would randomly get rid of her things.

It was getting to the point Sam rarely spent any time at home and she was saving till the day she could leave and not ever return. Her parents were in a panic over it, trying even harder to control her life.

Thankfully, her grandmother had left her the entire estate, so Sam didn't need to worry about them controlling her finically. She just needed to hit eighteen, surviving with the help of Danny and Tucker.

Danny had an entire box of her things hidden in his house, as she had stashed some with Tucker, too. She was worried they would get rid of the last few things her grandma gave her before the older woman's passing.

She was in tears when she reported the lost summoning disk. Danny assured her that he didn't blame her, even of he was uncomfortable with the idea that a means to forcefully teleport him was lost somewhere in the world.

He prayed it did not fall into the wrong hands, as he went into the Zone to ask the metalsmith to make him another necklace.

The ghost had the good graces to not tell Halfa a "I told you so" while he made Sam's replacement.

Three years passed before Sam's lost disk became a problem. It had fallen into the wrong hands, alright.

It had fallen into Lex Luther's hold, and the man wanted Danny to kill Superman. There was a moment of horror where Danny thought he would be forced to go through it when he realized that no.

The only thing the runes did was tie him to Lex, making it impossible to be more than 20 miles away from the man. A string of light would appear around their wrists and flung them together as if someone had handcuffed them.

The other great thing was that the disks automatically changed him into Phantom, and Lex was unaware of Danny's human side. He just thought he was cursed with a nineteen year old Ghost King.

"How can the great and powerful Ghost King be a child?! A useless one at that!" Lex snared while gesturing at the glowing young adult.

Danny raises a brow from where he is soaking in Lex's expensive suit hot tub. " I'm not the one who can't get over my ex. Buy a cat or something, man. "

"I was never with Superman!"

" Don't you have a kid with him? Superboy? He's biologically Superman and your son, right? Deadbeat. "

"That's not.....get out of my house!"

"No." Danny sips some of Lex's fancy wine. " i like it here. It's been ages since I been in the human realm."

Lex also seemed unaware that Danny was trapped with him. It was better to play it off as a higher being bothering him so the man wouldn't try to make him do anything until Danny was able to free himself.

[vanillatwistgirl]

Me and Demon

Demon I accidentally summoned: “You have three wishes.” Me: “I wish for unlimited wishes.” Demon: “That’s against the rules.” Me: “Then I wish the rules didn’t exist.” Demon: “...Wait.”

[poolboyservice]

I'm just so spoingy doinky (who the fuck am I)

[majestyeverlasting]

can you write something angst like joel miller and reader having bad argument and joel lost his cool and feels bad and trying to fix it, something like that

your fics are amazing btw❤️❤️

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐣𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

pairing joel miller x female reader summary after a tough patrol, joel grapples to accept the one thing he craves but fears the most—love [angst, happy ending, 2k] a/n you're more amazing, anon ♡

⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂

Today’s patrol doesn’t follow Joel home. It fastens itself to his shoulders, forcing him to carry it. Each labored step is a reminder of the long hours spent postured on horseback, rifle slung over his shoulder. If he was twenty years younger, he reckons his body wouldn’t protest against him as often as it does. Unfortunately, there’s no way to chase those years back down. They belong to the past alone, loaned only through memories. 

How he feels at the end of a patrol is a wildcard these days, but he fares better on the mornings he remembers to stretch and when he's man enough to take adequate breaks throughout the shift. 

On days like this, when Joel was paired with fresher, younger guys like Caleb, so many of those wellness practices were disregarded. Being as sharp as possible ensured there were no slower moments that could be taken for weakness. All it took was one second of a lowered guard to be blindsighted. 

Even if Joel wanted to summon a fraction of his youth, he wouldn’t be able to after today. Shouting orders had reduced his voice to a graveled rumble. 

A little past five-o-clock, he and Caleb spotted a group of infected lingering near a fallen body in the distance—a nameless, faceless man sheeted from the most recent snowfall. There was no more breath in his lungs, but it appeared as if he were merely lying there asleep. His puffy blue coat was a pop of color amidst stark white and rogue twigs. 

Caleb insisted on burning the body so the poor man wouldn’t resurrect as the undead. But Joel had witnessed his fair share of courtesies gone wrong. If he didn’t do anything else today, he refused to add the boy to the list of casualties in his consciousness. So he demanded they leave it be. All that mattered was two of them making it back to the commune alive. The man was a stranger after all. And there was no such thing as helping the dead. Not really. 

Even as the Clickers picked up on the trodding of their horses’ hooves, Caleb’s gaze stayed on Joel like he was the monster.

“So we’re just gonna leave him?” Caleb asked. 

Joel dismounted his horse and wrestled his rifle into position. In a quick series of echoing shots, he took down all six infected, their bodies thudding to the snow. A couple ravens fluttered from the treetops, jet black against the pale sky.

“One match, man. It’ll only take a second.” 

“No!” Joel asserted. “We gotta get out of here. Probably just attracted more.” 

So they left him there, face down in the snow. 

By the time Joel crawls up the creaky steps of his front porch, he’s ready to collapse onto the couch, his bed, or any surface willing to catch him. But he won’t sleep because of his buzzing nerves. By some miracle, he sees himself inside, shrugging his backpack to the ground with a weighted thump. 

As drained as he is, the soft shuffling in the kitchen sets him right back on alert. He knew Ellie was at Dina’s tonight, and there was nobody else he’d been expecting over. If he weren’t so on guard, he’d notice the savory scent of garlic and onion in the air. 

The heavy sound of his boots precedes him as he strides into the kitchen. Upon seeing your frame standing at the stove, clad in an oversized knit sweater, Joel freezes in place. The furrow between his brows disappears as if it were never there. You peek over your shoulder with the sweetest smile, and for a moment, he forgets the ache in his muscles. The weariness that feels bone-deep. 

Slowly, however, the crueler side of reality creeps back in despite his efforts to cling to the good. At the very same time, you realize it hadn’t been just another day of patrol for him. There’s a slouch to his shoulders, and slightly bloodshot eyes take inventory of everything around the room while refusing to meet yours. Sympathy is quick to take root. 

You’ve made dinner. He gathers that much, noting a pot bubbling on the stove behind you. His stomach rumbles lowly at the prospect of food. 

“Hi,” you say with a dampened smile. You try again when he doesn’t meet your gaze. “Joel?” 

There’s nowhere to hide since you’re here. He’d anticipated coming back to an empty house where he didn’t have to be perceived. To be seen so intimately. 

A mix of frustration, embarrassment, and unworthiness rise within him to the point where he’s certain he’ll burst. The last person he wants to suffer from the fallout is you. Yet here you are, a selfless presentation that makes him wish he didn’t destroy every ounce of good he touched. 

His attention is intense when it falls on you. An underlying softness tries to prove itself true, only to be engulfed every time it takes a chance. 

“Never asked for all this.” Dinner, Joel means. 

“I know,” you say. “Just figured you’d appreciate it.” There’s a slight waver in your voice as your confidence wanes. 

More of an edge works its way into his. “Didn’t tell me beforehand.”

You attempt to swallow the lump in your throat as it grows in real-time. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

There’s a matter-of-factness to your tone that makes it sound like you’re reading off a script. Like you’ll break through the ice if you misstep. It’s nothing like your usual friendly, laid-back cadence. You’re trying to convince yourself you’re not a stranger. 

“You gave me a key, so I thought I’d use it to do something nice for you.” 

“I gave it to you for emergencies. If something ever goes wrong.” 

A small huff of humorless laughter escapes you. “Why does everything always have to go wrong with you?” 

His sharp, stubbled jaw clenches at the question. 

“Would you rather me be here because I got robbed or because I think I’m being followed?” Your words are soft and steady and all the more piercing for it. “Do we only get to be in each other’s lives when something’s falling apart?” 

Joel takes a step forward. “You’re puttin’ words in my mouth.” 

“Am I Joel?” 

“You are.” 

Your hands fall helplessly by your sides. “Let me be here for you. I want to be here for you.” 

His voice raises before he can check himself, “What about what I want?” 

It’s a question with an answer Joel’s not ready to face. Because it’s you. There was nothing else. He exhales as his gaze flicks to the floor. 

Tears prick in your eyes despite your attempt to to steel yourself against them. “Do you want me to leave?”

Joel’s never heard your voice sound so small. It tears him apart, but all he can say is, “I’m going to take a shower.” 

•••

Fear is a cold, consuming thing. People fear the boogeyman, monsters under their bed—all manner of creatures that lurk when the sun is tucked away. Since the end of the world, few things scared Joel. Tonight, it isn’t the notion of what lurks that scares him. It’s the possibility that when he goes downstairs, you’ll be gone. 

It’s quiet as Joel stands behind his bedroom door retying the drawstring of his pajama pants for the umpteeth time. His thick fingers tremble as much as they had when he was out in the cold. The longer he stalls, the sicker he feels. 

Tommy’s teasing words from a week ago play on a loop in his head. You wouldn’t recognize a good thing if it slapped you ‘cross the face. 

But Joel had recognized you. 

Long before he had a name to put to your unforgettable smile. Before you mosied into his world and made him long to fall into your orbit. Before he ever admitted to himself that this might be love—messy as it is, constantly changing shape and slipping between his fingers. 

Courage eventually finds him by some miracle.

As Joel pads down the stairs, he tries to ignore the lingering silence. All he has are his creaky footsteps as he enters an empty kitchen dotted with signs of life. The table is set, two bowls on either end with the food organized in the middle. But you’re nowhere to be found. Regret sinks like a millstone into his gut, and takes his heart with it. His appetite vanishes along with any hope enduring within him. 

Before he can continue sinking, the back door flings open and you scramble in along with a chill. There’s a saucer in your grip that appears to have food scrapped off of it. No doubt for Juneau, the neighbor’s husky who often wandered by for scraps. 

Joel’s heart doesn’t know whether to quicken in surprise of slow with relief. There’s no question what yours does as you startle and grip your chest. Like you’re not the visitor in his home. As if he’s the intruder. 

“You scared me,” you breathe, eyes softening as you take him in. 

The way he’s standing suggests he’s trying to make himself look smaller. An air of apology hangs around him. There’s so much he wants to say: I don’t deserve this, I’m sorry, I love you.

Only a few gruff words come out, “Gonna catch a cold going outside like that.” 

“Guess it’ll be you cooking for me then.” Your lips twitch with a ghost-like hint of a smile. It’s an invitation into levity that lets him know he hadn’t severed any major branches. 

A stretch of silence passes before Joel says, “Had no right speaking to you the way I did.” 

Then he sighs into a deeper admission, “I’m not used to this.” He swallows thickly as he awaits a response.

“I know,” you finally say.

“But I wanna be. I want this—” 

You cross the distance to wrap your arms around him. He doesn’t move for a fraction of a second. He’s steady as an oak. As certain as the tide. When he does wrap his arms around you, it feels like another chance. A new beginning. Like a home both of you could get to know.  

•••

The two of you share a quiet meal of sourdough and steak and potato stew, sharing soft glances between bites. Joel goes for seconds, then thirds. Seconds because he was modest with his portions the first go round, and thirds because he can’t remember the last time someone labored over such good food for him. It nourishes him past the bone and to the soul, the warm broth soothing his throat as it runs down. Not once do you ask him to talk about his day, and he’s grateful.

Later, Joel helps you clean even though you insist that he sits down and relaxes. Conversation remains light as the two of you stand shoulder to shoulder at the sink, you washing and him drying. It’s a process much like forgiveness: the staining of oneself only to be made clean as if the offense never occurred. Which isn’t lost on Joel. The fog surrounding his conscious lifts as if his own slate is being renewed.

As the two of you finish and dry your hands, Joel peers over at you with a weighted look. You offer a small, tired smile that makes his chest expand with fondness. 

“Reckon I don’t deserve your kindness.” He clears his throat. “Ya keep giving it to me anyway.” 

“I always will,” you promise. 

Joel nods through the wave of gratitude that nearly sweeps him away. 

“I really am trying, honey.” He can’t remember the last time that nickname rolled off his tongue. Tonight, with you, it flows naturally. 

“I know.” 

Anything worth having can’t be gained without a fight. One against the voices of the past that seek to bind everything to the unmoving, unchanging familiarity of the way things have been for so long. Luckily, Joel Miller wasn’t one to back down. He would tear down every wall he built around himself, brick by brick, if it meant reaching you. 

-

Thank you so much for reading! All likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated. I promise I see them all. 

JOEL MASTERLIST 

ALL MASTERLISTS

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