#in the hopes that that will fix things somehow!

[sleepingdiaryzzz]

yandere!young justice x magician and sorcerer!reader

BUUUUUUUUUT,the readed is a part of the team,however,shows no interest in them,and it just there because she kinda just has to,and no matter how much they try to get her attention,she never gives them any of it.

(I love your writing btw😼)

Yandere! Young Justice x magician! Reader

The Cave was quiet, as it always was at night, the hum of machines and distant murmurs of the world outside barely touching the stillness that clung to the mountain like a second skin. In this isolated hollow, surrounded by the cool stone walls, you could hear your own thoughts—the whisper of spells, the pulse of magic, the unspoken words you chose not to say.

You never had to explain yourself here, never had to wear the mask of pleasantries or pretend you cared about anything more than the mission. The others, they didn’t understand. They couldn’t, not really. You weren’t like them, never had been. You didn’t need the comfort of their companionship. You didn’t want their attention, their curiosity, or their pity.

And yet, they tried.

Conner was always watching. A silent presence, brooding and intense, always lingering in the background, his eyes following your every movement. He never asked questions—no, that wasn’t his style. Instead, he observed, the way a predator watches its prey, calculating, waiting. He never made an effort to speak, not in the way Wally did with his incessant jokes or M'gann with her quiet warmth. Conner was patient, cold, waiting for something to crack, for something to change.

His silence was a constant reminder. He didn’t need to speak; you could feel his presence, the weight of his gaze pressing down on you, always at the edge of your vision, always waiting.

It was unsettling, but you never let it show.

Wally was a different story altogether. His energy was like a crackling fire, unpredictable, always bouncing from one thing to the next. He couldn’t sit still, couldn’t leave you be. "Come on," he would say, leaning over your shoulder as you worked on a spell, his grin wide and carefree. "Show me something cool. You know you’ve got some crazy magic tricks up your sleeve."

His insistence was always accompanied by that grin of his, mischievous and bright, as though his charm could draw you out of your shell. But you never did. You never gave him the satisfaction of seeing you smile, never let him see you as more than just another teammate. It wasn’t his fault—he was just trying to make the team feel more like a family. But you didn’t care about family. You didn’t care about any of them.

“I’m busy,” you’d say, dismissing him with a flick of your hand, returning to your spell. And Wally, ever the optimist, would laugh and zip away, the sound of his footsteps echoing as he left you to your silence.

But it wasn’t enough for him, no. His persistence was a thing of legend. Sometimes you’d catch him watching you, his gaze fixed, a question burning in his eyes. "Why are you always like this?" he seemed to ask with every look. But he never voiced it. Instead, he’d turn away, hoping that somehow, eventually, you’d change your mind.

Then there was Robin. The dark and silent watcher. He knew how to stay in the shadows, how to be everywhere without being seen. His presence was like the night itself—always there, always watching, never truly gone. Robin was the most subtle of them all. He never asked outright; instead, he would drop little comments, observations that always felt like a puzzle, like he was trying to figure you out, piece by piece.

"You know, you could talk to us more," he’d say, casually leaning against the wall as he watched you work. His tone was light, almost playful, but you could sense the undercurrent of something more—something deeper. “We don’t bite, you know.”

You didn’t respond. Of course, you didn’t. The only response he got was the steady flick of your fingers over the spellbook, the quiet hum of magic filling the space between you. He didn’t try to get too close, not like Wally or M'gann, but his eyes never stopped tracking you, always measuring, always calculating. Robin was patient, the kind of person who knew that some things took time, that some people had walls that needed to be broken down slowly.

And you? You weren’t going to let him.

M'gann was the opposite. Her presence was always warm, soft, inviting. She would sit beside you, her legs tucked under her, her eyes wide with curiosity. "You know," she would say with that gentle voice of hers, "I could help you with your spells. I can be a good study partner, if you ever need one."

Her kindness wasn’t forced, never had been. It was natural for her, as natural as breathing. She wasn’t like the others who were driven by some sense of duty or curiosity. No, M'gann’s attention was genuine, a quiet offer of companionship. She was the one who tried to reach you without asking, without expecting anything in return.

But you didn’t need help. You didn’t need her to reach you. And so, you’d quietly decline, giving her nothing more than a polite smile before returning to the words in your book, the pages filled with symbols that had no need for her warmth.

And then there was Artemis. The sharp, straightforward one. She didn’t waste time on subtlety. Her approach was always direct, blunt, like a sharp blade that never hesitated. "You don’t have to be so closed off, you know," she’d say, her voice a mix of irritation and something else. It was hard to tell with Artemis—her eyes were always guarded, her emotions always hidden behind a wall of indifference. "We’re all in this together."

She had a point, of course. But you didn’t care. You didn’t care about being “in it together.” You had your own path to follow, and they weren’t a part of it. You didn’t need to explain that to her, or to anyone. So, you’d give her a nod, a brief acknowledgment that wasn’t really an acknowledgment, and move on with your work.

Kaldur was the calm one, the quiet one. His respect for you was obvious, but it never crossed the line into anything more. He would offer you a nod as he passed, his gaze soft, his presence steady like the water he controlled. He didn’t push you the way the others did. He didn’t try to break down your walls. He simply respected them, kept his distance, and allowed you to be as you were.

But even Kaldur had moments when his gaze would linger on you, just a second too long, like he was waiting for you to finally open up, to let him see more than the cold silence you kept locked behind your eyes.

It wasn’t much, but it was enough. Enough for you to feel the weight of their gaze, the quiet pressure of their attention. They thought they understood you. They thought that if they just tried enough, kept reaching out, eventually, you’d let them in.

But you wouldn’t.

In the midst of their attempts, you kept your distance, always lost in the pages of your spells, your incantations, the quiet hum of power that thrummed beneath your fingertips. They were drawn to you, like moths to a flame, their fascination burning just beneath the surface of their words, their glances, their actions.

But you would remain untouched. You would keep your secrets locked away, your magic a barrier between you and the world they wanted to draw you into.

They didn’t understand it, not really. They couldn’t. You were not like them. You didn’t need what they offered. You didn’t need to be a part of their team, their family, their world. You were the silent watcher, the one who kept their distance while they reached out, always hoping that something would change.

But it wouldn’t.

You weren’t there for them. You were there because you had a purpose, one that had nothing to do with them, nothing to do with the team, and nothing to do with any of their quiet, unspoken obsessions. You would remain distant, and they would keep trying, never understanding why you remained so cold, so unreachable.

And that, for now, was enough.

(A/n: thank you kind fellow fur🤭😽)

[unknownplane]

The Court Jester Part 4

Yandere Batfam x GN Reader

Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3

Waking up (Y/N)'s head felt fuzzy. Somehow, they felt constricted even though they could move. Looking around, they found themselves in a large room. The bed felt as if it was encasing them. They felt themselves looking for their weapon. Not being able to find it, they get up and start looking around the room.

The room was blank, as if it was a canvas waiting to be painted. It irritated them. 'Where the fuck am I? The last thing I can remember was... oh fuck. Dads gonna be soo pissed! I never got him his drink!'. (Y/N) frantically began looking for a way out realizing they were asked to get something for there dad. They went to the door and found it locked.

Just as they were going to open the other door in the room, the locked door burst open. Bruce Wayne flung himself into the room. "My baby! You're awake! God, what did that monster do to you?" Bruce questioned as he got closer to (Y/N). As soon as he got close enough (Y/N) tripped him and forced him into the ground. "Where am I?! The fuck have you done with my dad?!" (Y/N) yelled. "No need to be hostile kid. We just saved your ass." Jason stated walking into the room. Amused that Bruce had been caught off guard by your violence. Bruce suddenly got out of the hold as (Y/N)s attention shifted to Jason and held their hands behind their back. "You bitch! The fuck are you doing! Let me go!" (Y/N) screamed with struggling in his hold. "No (Y/N) went just got you back and we are going to help you get better." Bruce stated in a firm tone. "I don't need fixing you limp dick son of a bitch! My dad molded me in his image and I'm perfect because of that!" (Y/N) howled. "I think my dear sibling need some alone time." Jason said. Bruce nodded his head and let go of (Y/N) and left the room. "Just so you know (Y/N) because ,even though you are fucked, and I still love you the Joker is dead." Jason professed before he left the room and locked the door.

"No, he's lying. He can't die. He always comes back." (Y/N) whispered and unknowingly started crying. They began to grow themselves around the room, trying to find a way out, and ultimately broke an arm. It took an hour before it eventually healed. Their mental state making it more difficult to heal.

About an hour later, Damian entered the room with a change of clothes. He fought with his sibling for this opportunity to talk with (Y/N) and was going to take advantage of the situation. "Hello, sibling. I have brought you a change of clothes as the ones you are currently wearing are covering in blood and dirt. I hope we can get on better terms during your stay here." Damian spoke calmly, as if he was talking to a terrified animal. "Ah, if it isn't the other basterd child of Bruce Wayne. Tell me how does it feels to know that if your nepotism wasn't taken into account, you would be just another pawn in Al Ghuls game. Stupid and replacable." (Y/N) spoke in a knowing tone. No anger in sight, only a smirk on their face.

They have watched the batfamily for years. They knew all the ways to get under their skin and prod where it hurt most.

Damian's face fell into a look of shock. (Y/N)'s words hurt in a way he had not felt since he first came to the manor. He felt the fear of being useless and replaceable. He dropped the clothes and left the room with a mortified face as (Y/N) started to laugh manically.

After Damian left the room, the Joker seemed to appear before them. As if a god. "My dear child, I am dead now, but soon I will find someone to take over. And when that is over, I will find you, and we will make the bat regret taking you away from me. My darling child." The Joker claimed. (Y/N) find with joy began shaking their head rapidly in agreement. "Of course, dad! They'll never know what hit em!" (Y/N) said and started laughing.

-----------------‐-----------------------------

In the batcave

"Their mental capacity seems to be dwindling. They've begun hallucinating. The best course of action would be to start over. I would recommend you get in contact with Martain Manhunter." Tim told Bruce after watching you on the screen. Tim had been watching you since the moment you were brought home. There was something comforting about knowing exactly where you were at all times, no matter what. "Let's wait another day. We don't know what reproductions there might be for doing this to them. If it would even work. You saw what happened with their arm. Their healing ability could stop it from even working!" Stephanie argued, not wanting to lose anymore of you. A broken you was still a masterpiece in her eyes. It showed everyone your hardships and would be used as a reminder to them about how they affected you and your life. No matter how rough you were, you and she didn't want to lose you again. "We'll wait one more day. If they continue to break down like this, we will have no other choice." Bruce stated. "But for now, we will just have to wait and see"

-------------------------------------------------------

Hey guys, sorry for the wait. College has been kicking my ass and Comp has been making me not want to write anything. Hope you enjoy it! Remember, I am always looking for ways to improve.

@cooki3dough @asillysimp @kitty-from-daaaa-voidddd @redkarmakai @horror-lover-69 @bat1212 @wisefuncherryblossom @chericia @vannessa-boo @resident-cryptid @staarflower @sirenetheblogger @definitely-not-sammie @lovebug-apple

[justagalwhowrites]

Halcyon - Ch. 19: Did You Mean That?

Joel confronts your shared past and potential future. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 18, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Angst. Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 6.6k

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter

Joel was frozen for longer than he was proud of, staring at the place you’d left him. 

I fucking heard you. 

What the fuck did that even mean? Heard what? 

He looked back toward Sarah’s room. He shouldn’t just leave her here by herself but he considered it all the same. He’d just… he’d go after you, make you talk to him like he should have done all those years ago. He wasn’t going to just let you disappear again, not this time. 

Instead, he called you, still standing on his front stoop, still considering chasing after you. It rang twice but then you sent him to voicemail. 

“Fuck!” 

His grip got tight on the phone but he resisted the urge to hurl the phone at the brick of his house. 

“Dad?” Sarah peered at him from around the doorway, her eyes somehow seeming especially wide. 

He sighed. 

“Yes, baby girl.” 

“You and Aunt Goldie were really in a fight, huh.” 

He sighed again, looking at his daughter even though it only made him feel worse. She loved you so much, you were the closest thing she’d ever had to a mother and Joel had fucked that up, too. 

“It’s… it’s complicated, baby girl,” he said. “C’mon, let’s go inside, it’s getting late, you should get ready for bed…” 

“But,” she huffed. “Dad, it’s Goldie. You can’t just let her leave, she’s family!” 

“I know,” he said, a hand on her back as he guided her back inside. “Not gonna just let her go, don’t worry. I just… need to figure out what to do first, OK?” 

“Promise you’re not going to just not talk again for years?” She asked, looking up at him. “Because - sorry, Dad - that was bullshit.” 

“Hey,” he said. “Language.” 

“Dad.” 

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, you’re right. It was bullshit.” 

He texted you while Sarah got ready for bed but you left him on read and he ground his teeth. He read his daughter a chapter from a book and resisted her begging to have him read another one before tucking her in, thankful that she still wanted him to do this at all. 

“Hey Dad?” She said as he went to leave. 

“Yes, baby girl?” 

“You’re going to talk to her, right?” 

He sighed. She sounded so hopeful. 

“I’ll fix it,” he said. “Promise. Love you.” 

“Love you too,” she said, sounding more relaxed. 

He closed the door behind him and went to the living room, pacing for a moment. 

I fucking heard you. 

He tried to remember the conversation with Ricky all those years ago, not something he’d really thought about in so long. 

Other things from that small window of time had dominated Joel’s memory. He remembered trying to find the words to talk to you, trying to come up with a plan for every possible outcome. If you wanted him, too, then he would figure out a way to be there for Tommy and his mom from afar and go with you. If, heaven forbid, you were pregnant, he would do everything to make sure you could still go to school and still be everything you were meant to be while he took care of the rest. If you wanted nothing to do with him… that had been the one scenario he hadn’t come up with a solution for. Of course, that had been the one he’d been left to reckon with. 

He remembered how he felt then, how desperate he’d been. But he couldn’t remember exactly what he’d said to fucking Ricky, something that had apparently stuck out in your mind so much that you’d moved across the country without a fucking word. He went over it again and again but couldn’t remember it, even though it felt like his fucking life depended on it. 

Eventually he tried to call you again but it only rang once before you sent him to voicemail. 

He listened to your outgoing message, bright and cheery, flexing his hand again and again as he waited, impatiently, for the beep. 

“Goldie,” he said when it finally let him record a message. “Not letting you walk out, I’m gonna keep calling. Just… pick up, baby. Please.” 

He hung up and immediately called again. Two rings, then voicemail. He called again. 

The fourth time, you finally answered, your voice sharp and harsh. 

“What!” You snapped. “What more do you want from me?” 

“I want to talk to you,” he said, straining to keep calm. “I don’t know what you mean, I don’t remember what the fuck you’re talking about, I…” 

You laughed once, derisively. 

“Of course you don’t,” you said. “You wouldn’t, would you? Because I was always just another girl to you, wasn’t I? Why would you remember…” 

“No,” he cut you off. “No, that’s not…” 

“I need some space, Joel,” you said. 

“I’m not losing you again, Goldie,” he said, harsher than he really meant to. “Please, let me just…” 

“If you don’t want to lose me then do what I’m asking you to do,” you said. “I need space, OK? I can’t just do this with you, I can’t… just don’t call me or text me or whatever, just give me some time.” 

“Goldie…” 

“I mean it, Joel,” you said. “I need space.” 

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Fine,” he said. “I…I can do that.” 

“Thank you,” you said. “I’ll talk to later.” 

“Will you?” He asked, probably rougher than he should have. 

“Eventually,” you said. “Yeah.” 

“Yeah,” he said, his voice thick. “Yeah, OK.” 

You hung up and he sighed, sinking onto the couch and cradling his head in his hands for a moment. 

He was on the edge of losing you again, he could feel it. He couldn’t let it happen, not this time. He started thinking again, just like he had all those years ago, trying to think up contingency plans and ways to work through this without you leaving but, really, that’s what it always came back to. He’d do anything - he’d never touch you again, he’d tolerate your shitbag husband, he’d watch you live a life he was agonizingly separate from - if it just meant that you stayed. 

Joel got himself a drink, which quickly became two and then three, staring at the ceiling, wondering just how long he was supposed to stay away from you this time before he passed out on the couch. 

When he woke up the next day, time seemed to crawl. He couldn’t just ignore you.  You were in everything, it seemed. Sarah showed him the books you’d gotten her, excited about reading them. He reviewed his business plan again and again, looking at your notes in the margins. He put on a Longhorns t-shirt and remembered you sitting at his kitchen table, building out your syllabus for the year. 

Even Tommy noticed a difference when he was at work on Tuesday, seemingly short tempered and impatient. 

“You gonna tell me who pissed in your Cheerios or you gonna leave that a mystery?” Tommy asked as they leaned against his truck during a coffee break. 

“What do you mean?” Joel frowned, staring down at the paper cup and thinking about how you took your coffee and wondering what was he supposed to do with that knowledge if you were just gone now.

“I mean you’ve been biting people’s heads off all week,” Tommy said. “I mean, you’re always an asshole but you’ve been in rare form man.” 

“Tommy…” 

“Don’t feed me some bullshit, either,” he interrupted him. “Know you too well for that.” 

Joel looked at Tommy for a moment before he sighed and it all came spilling out of him - prom night, what had been happening between the two of you the last few months, the moment in his kitchen, what you’d yelled at him over the weekend, all of it. 

“Jesus,” Tommy said when he was done, just blinking at him, dumbfounded. “I… fuck, man. I always thought there was something between you two but… holy shit.” 

“I don’t know what the fuck it is she’s talking about,” Joel said. “I talked with Ricky back then but fuck if I can remember what it was about, that was more than a decade ago, what the fuck am I supposed to do?” 

“I mean… do you know how she feels?” Tommy asked, taking a sip of coffee.

“Yeah,” Joel scoffed. “Yeah, I think she’s made that perfectly fuckin’ clear.” 

“Has she?” Tommy said. “Because - and maybe you just didn’t mention it - but I don’t think you actually talked about it. Ever. Not once.” 

Joel frowned, looking at the ground, going over everything in his mind. 

That couldn’t be right, could it? 

It sure seemed like you’d talked about it. Maybe not explicitly, but everything you’d said pointed to you seeing him as a friend. You said you wanted to be with someone you could love and that wasn’t him. The first time he’d slept with you again, you asked him not to call you baby and he’d all but begged you to let him. He’d had to fucking comfort you the morning after the concert, tell you that it didn’t mean anything so you didn’t panic because being with him freaked you out that much. You’d never said it, not in so many words, but you didn’t need to. 

“Maybe you should ask her,” Tommy said when Joel had been quiet for too long. 

“Tommy,” Joel groaned, rolling his eyes. “I can’t just…” 

“Can’t you?” Tommy said. “I mean… shit, man. You already blew it all up, what else you got to lose?” 

Tommy’s words were still in Joel’s mind when he left the job site that afternoon, going home to get cleaned up before going to the bank for his business loan appointment. 

What did he really have to lose? He could at least tell you how he felt, a thought that made his chest tight but brought a sense of relief, too. He’d been holding this in for so long now. It seemed like loving you had become a part of him, one that he was used to keeping to himself but one he didn’t want to hide anymore.

He’d told himself for years that he’d loved you quietly because it’s what you wanted. You weren’t interested, it was unfair to put his feelings on you. Even when you were a country away and not speaking with him, he found it strangely comforting to know that while it might be because he’d caved to his baser instincts and slept with you, it wasn’t because he’d pushed his feelings on you. He had regrets - he’d have given anything to take back that night if it meant you’d just talk to him again - but at least he knew how he felt about you hadn’t been the thing that had driven you away. 

Could it really be possible that not telling you had been the thing that sent you running from him? Had he really wasted years of his life not having you all because he’d been too afraid of actually fucking saying it? 

He put on his best clothes - wishing he had a suit for the first time in his life - and took a deep breath, looking at himself in the mirror. It felt like his whole life was riding on this, everything he could have sitting there, just out of reach. 

He’d never been worthy of you before. Back when he met you, he was barely passing his classes, going nowhere fast. Doomed to spend his life in his hometown, doing some job to get by while trying to keep his kid brother’s nose clean. He hadn’t gotten much better since, staying in the first job he could get, doing his best to raise the child he’d made by accident, trying to make something of himself as he could. It was nothing compared to you. But if he could manage this, actually do something real and tangible, maybe he’d feel worthwhile. 

Joel drummed his hands on the steering wheel as he drove, one of the Taylor Swift songs from the concert he’d gone to with you and Sarah coming on the radio and he remembered looking at you that night, remembered how much he wanted to kiss you in a way that actually meant something. He had to do this. He had to. 

His stomach was in knots as he sat in the bank waiting room, one foot bouncing as he tried not to crinkle his presentation and application in his hands. He wished you were here. Why was he doing this on his own? What made him think he was even fucking capable of this without you? 

After what felt like a small eternity, a woman named Audrey brought him back to her office and Joel took a deep breath before walking her through his business plan. 

His heart was pounding the entire time and there was something perverse about talking through a future that you weren’t somehow a part of. He walked Audrey through the financial plans, what the next five years would look like and there was the nagging thought at the back of his mind that he should have talked with you about all of this. How money would be tight for a while, how he’d be extra busy, how much he appreciated the way you’d supported him through all of this so far. He never could have done this without you pushing him, encouraging him, helping him navigate the business world. It felt like your success, too, when Audrey set his presentation down on her desk, nodding. 

“Well, Joel,” she said, looking at him with a smile. “I think we have everything we need. Congratulations, you’re getting your loan!” 

Joel just laughed for a second, looking next to him quickly before remembering that you weren’t by his side. 

“Thank you,” he said. “This is… thank you very much.” 

“Looking forward to doing business with you,” she smiled. “Give me just a minute and I’ll be back with some papers so we can get things going.” 

Joel took his phone out and stared at his text message conversation with you, the last thing he sent still “I’m sorry.” He wanted to tell you that he’d done it. He was a business owner, he was going to be something, he was becoming someone that Sarah was going to be proud of and it was all because you’d come back into his life. You were who he wanted to share this with and he couldn’t. 

Audrey gave him the paperwork and he went through it page by page, more than a little reminded of when he got his mortgage and felt like he was signing his life away but with more optimism about his future this time. 

About halfway through the paperwork, though, the pen started skipping. He tried wetting the tip of it, scratching on a corner of the paper but he couldn’t get it to write smoothly again. 

“Do you got another one of these?” Joel asked, holding the pen up. “Can’t get it to work…” 

“Oh yeah, sorry about that,” Audrey said, looking around her desk, including at an empty pen cup. “Let me just…” 

She opened a desk drawer and took a few things out, piling things on her desk - a purse, water bottle, a book. 

Joel cocked his head at the book, the spine of it familiar. So familiar that he couldn’t help but laugh. Of course you’d be here, too. 

“What?” She asked as she found a plain, white box and pulled out a handful of pens with the bank’s logo on the side. She dropped them into the pen cup and held one out to Joel. 

“Oh, nothin’,” he said, taking the pen and nodding at the novel. “Just… my friend, she wrote that book. Funny seeing someone read it.” 

“Wait, really?” She asked, her face lighting up as she held up your book. “You know who wrote this?” 

“Yeah,” Joel nodded. “Yeah, she’s my best friend, known her since we were 15. She’s… she’s amazing. She teaches now, over at UT.” 

Audrey set the book down, leaning over the desk with her arms folded in front of her like she was going to tell Joel some kind of secret. 

“OK can I ask something?” She asked. “Sorry, this is probably hugely unprofessional but I am obsessed with this book, I can’t put it down and my book club is going crazy. Is any of it true? The falling in love and things ending like that? It seems like it has to be at least somewhat based on her life, I don’t see how someone could write this without knowing it, you know?” 

“Oh, uh,” Joel cupped the back of his neck awkwardly. “I actually… haven’t read it?” 

“Oh,” she said, sitting back a little, looking let down. 

“Sorry,” Joel said. “I’ve tried and I know it’ll be amazing but it’s just too weird for me…” 

“No, I’m sorry,” she laughed a little. “I overstepped, I shouldn’t have assumed…” 

“I should read it,” Joel said quickly. “I got it at home, maybe I’ll give it another go now.” 

“You should,” Audrey said. “It’s really, really good.” 

The new pen worked and Joel finished the paperwork, staring at his signature on the last page a  little too long. He handed the pen and papers back to Audrey. 

“You can keep the pen,” she smiled, taking the pages. “Let me make copies of these for your records but otherwise, congratulations, owner of Miller Brothers Construction and Contracting!” 

Joel had a bubble of pride in his chest as he drove home, one that seemed too big to keep contained and, against his better judgement, he called you. 

He wasn’t entirely sure what he expected, if he thought you were going to send him to voicemail, if you were going to answer and let him actually say something to you or what. 

What he didn’t expect was Gale. 

“Hello?” 

Joel just blinked for a second, recognizing the man’s pompous voice even from just the one word. 

“Is this Joel?” Gale - fucking BRAD - said. He took his silence as a yes and laughed. “Was wondering if I’d hear from you. Don’t worry, she’s with me, back where she belongs. Thanks for looking after her while I was gone, though. Appreciate it.” 

“Lemme talk to her,” Joel said through clenched teeth. 

“I don’t see why that’s necessary,” he said. “Seems like she doesn’t want much to do with you these days. Think you blew it. Thanks for that, too, by the way.” 

“We’re just…” 

“You’re just nothing,” Gale cut him off. “You were nothing but a childish distraction for her. She went running back here when things got hard - which I take my part of the blame for - and she needed a project to keep herself busy but she doesn’t need you anymore. So go back to the little life you’re meant for and leave us be. She was always too much for you and this place, anyway.” 

“No,” Joel said sharply. “No, you put her on the phone, put her on the phone right now!” 

“Can’t do that,” Gale said. “But I’ll tell her you called. Take care.” 

The line went dead and Joel threw his phone against the dash so hard the screen cracked. 

“Fuck!” He yelled, smacking his hands against the steering wheel. He wasn’t going to lose you, not again, not like this. 

He ignored Gale. Instead, he drove to your house, pounding sharply on the door, panting for breath as he did but you never answered. 

So he went to Anna’s next. He only needed to knock for a minute before she opened the door, Ellie’s beaming, chubby face happy in her arms. 

“Hey Joel,” Anna smiled at him. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes! Here to see this one?” 

Ellie squirmed in Anna’s arms, cooing and reaching for Joel and he laughed once, he couldn’t help it, before holding his arms out for her. Anna handed him her daughter and Ellie giggled, immediately reaching to tangle her tiny fingers in his curls. He smiled at her for a moment, marveling at the little girl who’d brought you and him together in the way it felt like you were always meant to be.

“Is she here?” Joel asked, bouncing a little with Ellie, watching her smile, her little body a grounding force that eased his racing heart. 

“Oh,” Anna frowned, her eyebrows knitting together. “No, sorry, she’s not here too often anymore, just a few times a week… She moved back home, I thought you knew that?” 

“No, I did,” Joel said quickly, looking to Anna and offering a finger to Ellie for her to gum at. “She just… wasn’t there, tried callin’ her but…” 

“Oh,” Anna pulled her phone out, looking at the time. “She might still be at the school, I can call her for you…” 

“No,” Joel said quickly, not wanting to get your sister involved in the mess of whatever the fuck was going on between the two of you. “Don’t… Don’t worry about it, sure I’ll talk to her eventually.” 

“OK,” Anna said, still frowning. “Look… It’s not my business but… Is there something going on with you two?” 

Joel just looked at Anna for a moment, wondering if he should tell her, too, because fuck it, why not just let the whole world know how much he’d fucked up with you.  

But she beat him to it, going from a frown to an absolutely glowing smile in no time at all. 

“Oh my God.” 

“What?” He asked, adjusting his hold on Ellie. 

“You love her!” She sounded practically giddy. “Oh my GOD I knew it! You LOVE her! Have you told her? Does she know? Oh my GOD, JOEL!” 

“I… I haven’t exactly said it,” Joel said, his cheeks getting hot. “I don’t want to make it her problem, I don’t want to get in the way of her being happy, I just… I want to be there for it.”

Anna just looked at him for a moment before shaking her head a little. 

“Is… Is she happy with him?” Joel asked, watching your sister closely. “Is he what she wants? I didn’t know her when they were really together, I just… it seems like he holds her back and that he’s bad for her and…” 

“Joel, did you read her book?” Anna cut him off. 

He frowned. 

“What? What does that…” 

“You wanted to know if he’s what she wants,” Anna said. “She’s never going to actually say it, you know that. At least not to you or to me, she’s always going to try to seem like she’s OK and handle it herself until she can’t and even then she’s not going to actually fucking say it, Joel, but she will write it. She always writes it. Read the book, Joel.” 

He gave Ellie back to Anna and went home, trying to focus as he made Sarah dinner and helped her with her homework. 

Read the book. Just read the fucking book. Was that all it would take? Could he even do that? If fucking Brad really was what you wanted, could he really sit and read hundreds of pages about how much better your life had been when he wasn’t in it? 

He’d never been able to manage it and it wasn’t because he didn’t want to know you through your words and it wasn’t because he didn’t like your writing. It was because he didn’t know if he could stomach reading something you wrote while you were in love with someone else. 

But… Anna was right. He knew that. If he wanted to know the truth of any of it, he’d have to read it. So, after he tucked Sarah into bed, he sat on the floor, staring at the box in his closet that held the two copies of your book like it was daring him to actually confront his feelings for a change. Because that had always worked out so well for him in the past, not like every fucking time he’d resolved to actually talk to you he hadn’t found you loving someone else. 

“Fuck it,” he muttered, opening the box and pulling out the books. This time, though, he picked the signed copy, the one he’d never tried to read before. There was something different about holding this copy, knowing that you had once, too. He ran his hands over the cover and the spine reverently for a moment before he leaned his back against the wall of the closet and opened the book. 

Joel had to force himself to read past the first few paragraphs, his stomach in knots the entire time, but, after a while, he fell into it - to the point that he almost forgot that he was reading your book. 

He’d known, from what little he’d managed to read in the past, that the book started in Austin, he just hadn’t expected the story to linger there.

But it did, the narrative following a girl named Cressida. She started out as a quiet, introspective high schooler who had become unlikely friends with a football player named Eli, a friendship that felt so like his with yours. They knew each other, understood each other, their worlds seem to revolve around each other. It seemed natural that it led to them sleeping together. But instead of the immediate implosion that had ended your relationship in real life, theirs devolved over time. Cressida came back to him again and again, the two of them winding up loosely connected every time a relationship of Eli’s fizzled out, her clinging to a heart wrenching longing that hurt to read, one that her friend seemed shockingly oblivious to.

Eventually, though, things came crashing down. This was different too, though, because it ended not with her vanishing but him, a car accident claiming Eli’s life when Cressida had finally resolved to tell him how she felt. They buried him in a sunny corner of the graveyard just before graduation and Cressida, it seemed, never really moved past it.

The other three-quarters of the book followed her as she tried – desperately, devastatingly – to live again, to get over the love she’d never really had to begin with, to find some place to root herself outside of that sun-drenched grave in her hometown.

She never really managed it, the ending almost painfully unsatisfying but feeling true. She’d become something – Cressida delving into the business world instead of the creative one as you had – and she found success away from home but her mind kept going back to that place and that person. She’d had relationships but, when her last boyfriend had proposed, she couldn’t bring herself to say yes. It had felt like a lie, to tell someone she would love him above all others when she’d never love him more than the memory of the boy who had been gone for years. He’d died at the worst time, the part of her life that would always be on a pedestal no matter what she did. Nothing and no one would ever compare and she was stuck, still going back to him again and again even though he was cold in the ground.

The last chapter closed with her bringing home a man who reminded her of her friend, something charming about him that took her back to that brighter place for a while. But when he fell asleep next to her, she had to confront that hollow feeling in her chest. In the last moment of the story, she bought a plane ticket to go back to that sunny grave site, something about the calm that fell over her when she decided to go back making it seem like that grave was her resting place, too.

Joel just stared at the book when he read the final words, the last pages flopping over, revealing your picture on the inside flap of the dust jacket. That knowing smile and piercing gaze gutted him then, no longer the taunt and temptation of knowledge they had once been.

Was Anna right, was this the truth of it? Did you write out your real feelings? Had he really gotten everything this fucking wrong? Had he really spent years wishing things with you were different when they’d been different all along?

He got out his phone and ignored the fact that it was 4:30 in the morning and called you. You didn’t answer. It didn’t even go to voicemail, the phone ringing once before he got some message saying the number was unavailable.

“Fuck,” he sighed, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall. He wasn’t positive but, based on his experience trying to track down Sarah’s mom years ago, that meant you’d blocked his number. It’d be just his fucking luck that he thought - hoped? - that, maybe, you felt the way he did at the same time he lost you for good.

He sat there with his eyes closed in the glow of his closet light, next to the box made up of the history of you, trying to pick through his memory from all those years ago, searching for some sort of guarantee that the book was based on what happened between the two of you back then.  

At some point, when he was swallowed by his memory of you, he fell asleep. Maybe it was the book, maybe it was the fact that he’d been sifting through ancient history when exhaustion finally caught up with him, maybe it was your words still ringing in his ears, but he remembered then. 

In his dream, he was back under the bleachers with Ricky, pacing to work out his nerves. He talked to his friend - the one who was more experienced, the one who wasn’t reckless, the one who would understand exactly why he was so afraid of what he might have just done to you. 

But, most importantly, he remembered exactly how that conversation had ended. 

It’s Goldie. I wish it were anyone else. It’d be better if it were anyone else.

“Dad!” 

Joel jerked awake, the book still open in his hands, your signature there for him to see. 

I fucking heard you. 

Sarah pounded on his bedroom door again. 

“Dad, come on!” She yelled. “I’m gonna be late!” 

“Shit,” he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and checked the time before calling to his daughter. “Two minutes, baby girl!” 

He got up as quickly as he could, his legs tingling from his awkward sleeping position on the floor of the fucking closet. 

Joel got changed quickly, barely paying attention to what he was putting on.

He’d had the answers sitting there for years, he’d just been too afraid to look it in the face but he had and now he knew. He knew how you felt - how you must have felt, why else would his misunderstood words have driven you away? - he knew how much time he’d already fucking wasted by being a coward, he knew it all now. 

He just didn’t know what the fuck to do about it. 

Joel got Sarah out the door quickly, barely paying attention on his drive to the school. He couldn’t just give up. He already refused to lose you, not again, but now it would be impossible. You were so close, everything he’d ever wanted there in front of him but just out of reach. Even if you’d moved on now, even if you were happier with fucking Brad, he had to tell you. He owed both of you that much. 

“Bye Dad!” Sarah poked her head between the two front seats and gave him a peck on the cheek. 

“What was that for?” He frowned, turning to look at her. 

She just shrugged and smiled. 

“Just seemed like you needed it,” she said. “Love you!” 

“Love you too!” He called after her as she hopped down from the truck and slammed the door behind her with a little too much force, waving behind her as she ran to the building. 

“Alright,” he took a deep breath, looking at the clock on his dashboard. Just after 8 a.m. He’d start at your place because he wasn’t sure what time you went to campus this semester. But he was going to talk to you. He was going to talk to you and he was going to tell you how he felt and he was going to do it today. “I’m comin’, Goldie.” 

You weren’t at your place when he got there. He tried not to think about if it was because you’d spent the night with fucking Brad, if you’d gone to his hotel and had never even been here. Instead, he went to campus. He wasn’t sure where you’d be teaching right now but he was pretty sure you wouldn’t be in your office. You always had morning classes with a break in the afternoon. 

“Excuse me,” he said to a random passing college student. “I’m lookin’ for… shit, probably creative writing? Or literature? What buildings are those?” 

“Oh, um,” the girl looked around quickly. “I’m a physics major but I know I had an English class in that building over there last semester? You could start there?” 

She pointed to a building in the distance and Joel kept his groan to himself. He forgot how fucking huge college campuses were. 

But he couldn’t just sit and wait. He needed to find you and he needed to do it now. 

“Thanks,” he said, giving her a wave and already starting to jog for the building. “Appreciate it!” 

But you didn’t have a class in that building. At least not at that time of day. He knew because he looked in all the lecture halls. You weren’t there. 

He tried two other buildings after asking for directions - no luck - before checking his watch. If your schedule was anything like it had been the semesters before, you’d be in your office soon. That, at least, he knew how to find. 

He jogged there, resisting the urge to run because that would probably make him look utterly insane, and threw his arm out to catch the elevator on its way up. 

“Floor 10, please,” he said to one of the college girls looking at him funny as he panted for breath. She did as he asked, though, and he marveled, for a moment, at just how fucking young college kids seemed to him now.

He closed his eyes and focused for a second, trying to figure out exactly what to say to you, but hearing your name pulled him out of his head. 

“I don’t think they’re still like… together together, though,” the girl who’d pushed the button said. “Like I know they were married but she said he was visiting. He’d live here if they were married, right? Besides, I really don’t think her husband would be asking for my number with his wife there, would he?” 

“I dunno,” the other girl shrugged. “He’s just… isn’t he old? Like old old, not hot old.” 

“I like them old,” the first girl giggled. “They know what they’re doing then.” 

The elevator chimed and the girls got off and Joel’s heart was beating so hard he could feel the blood in his body. You’d brought fucking Brad here and he’d hit on one of your fucking students - one who looked so young Joel never would have looked twice at her if he saw her on the street. Right in front of you, from the sounds of it. That’s who you’d chosen, that’s who you’d felt like you deserved because he hadn’t opened his fucking mouth years earlier. 

When the elevator made it to floor 10, he squeezed out of the doors, not willing to wait for them to open all the way, and ran to your office. 

“Excuse me,” the girl behind the front desk said as he went past her. “You can’t just…” 

“It’s fine,” he said, catching the door as someone came out of the hall where your office was. 

“No, wait!” She called after him but he ignored her. 

He ducked around other professors, dodging them and their questions until he was at your door. 

It was closed but he didn’t bother to knock, throwing the door open to find you there, standing in front of your desk in the arms of your fucking husband as he kissed you. 

Joel moved so fast that neither you nor Gale had noticed he was there but he couldn’t just stand there and watch that fucking guy kiss you, not like that. 

Without really thinking about it, he ripped him away from you, just catching a glimpse of the shock on your face as he punched Gale in the head, sending him sprawling into your desk. 

“Joel!” You yelled before grabbing his arm and pulling him back before he could hit your goddamn husband again. “What the fuck are you doing!” 

“Sorry, baby,” he said, shaking the feel of the punch out of his hand, his knuckles raw. “I couldn’t just watch that fucking guy touch you like that.” 

“Well, it’s really not your business how he touches me!” You snapped, shoving him back. “You don’t get to just come in here and hit people because you’re not getting your way anymore!” 

“That ain’t what this is,” he said, taking you by the shoulders, something grounding in the fact that could feel you again. “Baby, I read your book…” 

“Congratulations!” You snapped. “What, do you want a cookie because you finally got around to supporting me?” 

“No,” he shook his head. “Did you mean that? What you wrote, was that…” 

“What does it matter!” You asked, your eyes searching his face. “Why do you care! It’s ancient history, it doesn’t…” 

“It does matter!” He held you tight, wanting to kiss you more than he ever had before. “It matters because I love you, I love you so much, I’ve loved you since we were fucking kids, I love you so much that I think it might kill me if you don’t let me just say that to you at least this once and if you feel that way, too…” 

“You need to leave,” Gale - who Joel had all but forgotten about - said, trying to position himself between you and Joel. “And take your hands off my wife.” 

“Oh I haven’t even fuckin’ started with you,” Joel said, rounding on him. “You’re a fucking predator, chasing after her fuckin’ students while you’re here with her? Doing with them what you did with her, that it? Lucky I don’t beat the shit out of you…” 

“Joel, I…” you began, but you didn’t get the chance to finish, Gale pulling you back from Joel and going to hit him. 

Joel didn’t give him the chance, shoving him away from you before punching him again. Gale fell, landing on your desk again with a sharp crack. 

“Joel!” You yelled. 

He didn’t get a chance to respond. Instead, he got pulled back, security guards dragging him into the hall and away from you before he knew if he had a shot at really having you for the first time in his life.

A/N: FUCK YOU GALE!

Sorry, I've been picturing that moment since I first thought up the fic. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did!

Taglist: @kaseyconnour

[clumsybriar]

Simon “Ghost” Riley X GN! Reader — I’ll Be Home For Christmas

Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN! Reader — I’ll Be Home For Christmas

Notes: if you see any error please feel free to let me know! I made another Gender Neutral for Christmas! (If you see any mistakes with gender for the reader please let me know, I want to make sure I fix it so everyone can enjoy!)

Word count: 1340

Warnings: None!

————————————————————————————

Christmas season was upon you. The wait was no longer needed and the holiday season was in full throttle for many people. But for you it felt like the holidays just weren’t here yet, not without Simon.

It had been months since you last saw Simon. The countdown had been brutal — each day dragging on like a century, filled with empty space and a gnawing ache in your chest. The last words he’d said to you were promises, hollow at the time. But now, somehow, a beacon of hope. Especially for you.

“I’ll be back for Christmas, I swear on it.”

You hadn’t expected it to be easy. Life with Simon Riley had always been an unpredictable blend of intensity and distance, but there was something about it this time that just felt…different.

It could have stemmed from many different things, truly. Like there was something about the way he’d held you the night before he left, the unspoken words in his eyes as he kissed you goodbye at the airport.

Maybe it was just the fact that the holidays made everything feel more…amplified.

Like the empty chair at your dinner table, or the lonely flicker of Christmas lights on the tree.

But today just felt different. Like something magical was truly going to happen like some sort of Christmas miracle. Which is kinda cheesy to think about. But you couldn’t help it, you just felt a flicker of hope. Who would blame you for holding onto that flicker of hope.

People always said miracles happen on Christmas and you hoped just this once, it would happen. Even if it was on Christmas Eve.

You found yourself standing in front of your front door, staring at the snow falling softly outside. The world felt quiet, calm, and still. In your opinion it was too still. You glanced at the clock for the fifth time in the last hour and you could just tell the hands in the clock seemed to mock you, ticking by at a pace that made the seconds feel like years.

Your attention was quickly drawn away though, when suddenly a car door slammed. It was then followed by the unmistakable sound of boots crunching through the snow. Something you had heard often when Simon was coming home in the winter. Though he wasn’t grumbling or complaining like he usually did.

You knew he hated winter, the cold wasn’t his favorite. He hated how it set deep into his bones, sometimes making him feel like he couldn’t warm up. He dealt with it though because deep down you knew he liked to have a white Christmas.

The crunching of snow got closer. Your heart skipped a beat. You couldn’t help it but to step closer toward the door, breath catching in your throat. Your hand reached forward for the doorknob and when you opened it, there he was…

Simon.

His face was partially obscured by the shadow of his balaclava, but you’d recognize that broad frame and those piercing brown eyes anywhere. His tactical gear was gone, replaced by a simple black hoodie and faded jeans. His duffel bag hung over one shoulder, snowflakes settling on his mask and on his shoulders decorating him for the vast winter wonderland.

For a long moment, neither of you said anything. He just stood there, looking at you like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to believe you were real. If you were being honest you felt the same and maybe wondered if you had too much eggnog in your system.

You were the first to move, closing the distance between you in an instant. Without a word, you wrapped your arms around him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. His scent, that familiar mix of sweat, leather, and something uniquely him, filled your senses.

“Thought you weren’t coming,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

Simon’s arms tightened around you, his usual stoicism giving way to something raw. “Had to make sure I did,” he replied, his voice low and gravelly. “Couldn’t miss this… couldn’t miss you. Plus I’m pretty sure I promised you I’d be home.”

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your hand coming to rest against his jaw. His eyes flickered down to your lips before returning to your gaze, something soft and vulnerable lingering there — a look you’d rarely seen from him.

“Been waiting for you,” you said, your thumb brushing over the area where his scar was located on his cheek, the mark you’d kissed so many times in the past. Now it was still covered in that balaclava he loved so much. “I thought I’d go crazy without you.”

He let out a breath, his hand coming up to cup your face gently. “I know. I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, smiling despite the ache in your chest. “Don’t apologize, Simon. Just… just be here. Be with me.”

For a moment, neither of you moved. The world outside might have been freezing, but here, in this moment, it felt like time had stopped entirely — just the two of you, finally reunited after what felt like an eternity apart.

“You got the tree up,” Simon said, glancing over your shoulder at the twinkling lights and the ornaments hanging from the branches.

You smiled sheepishly. “I tried. Thought I’d have someone to help me decorate it, but…” you trailed off, your voice thick with unspoken words.

Simon’s lips quirked into a faint smile. “Yeah, I get it.” He gently lifted his balaclava above his nose as you could see his red lips which were surely chapped due to the weather and his mask.

He leaned forward, pressing a slow, tender kiss to your lips. It was the kind of kiss that made everything else in the world fade away, leaving nothing but the feeling of him — your Simon — finally home. His lips were warm against yours, his touch grounding you in ways words could never explain.

When he pulled back, he took your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath.

You laughed softly, pulling him inside. “Merry Christmas, big guy. You almost missed it,” you teased, “but I guess you made it just in the nick of time.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” He raised an eyebrow, a rare glimmer of mischief flashing in his eyes. “That’s all that matters.”

You smiled and closed the door behind him, then turned back to him, finally feeling like the holiday season had begun. Christmas had never meant much to you before — not without him. But now, with Simon standing here, his presence filling the room with something warmer than the heat from the fireplace, everything felt right.

You let go of his hand only for a moment to grab something from the kitchen. “I made dinner,” you said, glancing back over your shoulder. “You hungry? If I know you the answer is yes.”

Simon chuckled, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. “Maybe…yes.” He gave you a teasing look, one that made your heart flutter. “I am starving.”

“Figured as much, they don’t feed you enough do they?” you shot back with a grin. “They’re starving you, all my hard work of feeding you well has gone down the drain.”

Simon’s expression softened, and for a long moment, you both stood there, the weight of everything that had happened — the long deployments, the fears, the missed moments — evaporating in the warmth of the room. He was home with you.

“Yeah, look at me,” he teased, his voice full of something you couldn’t quite place, but it was good. “Skin and bone, not fluffy and cuddly.”

And as the night carried on, you and Simon settled together on the couch, the tree lights casting a soft glow over the room. The world outside seemed so far away, and for the first time in a long time, there was peace.

This Christmas, you had everything you needed. Simon, home where he belonged.

[eurydicees]

Also, I just saw you’re 23, I am too! It’s rough out here. Another idea: any characters, what’s it like being 23? Where are they at this point? I feel like hq shows that as being sooo grown up but like I’m just a big teenager right?? Idk just rambling

being 23 is so rough sometimes lmfao. i've got friends from high school getting married and friends from college having early life crises. i'm working full time and living alone but tbh mostly feel like i'm playing at house rn more than i am living on my own. whatever. it's fine. early 20s is just a silly time of life. anyways i don't have a fic for u but i Do have a headcanon list.

in no particular order, haikyuu characters as stupid things i've done in my early twenties:

atsumu: having a brother who is a chef does not prevent him from forgetting to take the cheese packet out of the mac and cheese box and dumping that into boiling water with the pasta.

udai: does not remember the last time he ate a vegetable.

oikawa: friends all went to a party without him and his coping method was getting so so so wasted on white rum and falling asleep on the living room carpet immediately after giving another friend a tarot card reading saying their breakup is imminent (to be fair, it was. but it was still kinda rude).

iwaizumi: after class, was led to a private stairwell by a friend, jokes "haha are you taking me to a hidden location to kill me." and then received a love confession. proceeded to say "uh. i'll think about it." then did finger guns. and said "im just gonna. go" and then fucking. ran. like not exaggerating, ran.

kageyama: went on a date. did Not At All Know it was a date, despite the very very obvious flirting. yes this was the same person as in the previous bullet point. don't look at me like that.

akaashi: took a 100 level class senior year and did not pay attention to a single lecture. instead wrote thousands of words of fanfiction in the classroom every day.

atsumu (again): another cooking one. i just think he'd be a terrible cook. sorry. anyways. "it's been 20 min, why isn't this scallion pancake im pan frying cooking yet?" (<- did not turn on the stove burner.)

yachi: hm the light in this room doesn't work. guess i'll just learn to see in the dark instead of inconveniencing anyone by asking to fix it.

akaashi (again): completely fell in love at first sight, but fast forward five months and it actually somehow worked out? however the five months were filled with the most insufferable pining possible, which could have been resolved so so so easily. also started talking about marriage, like, six months in.

bokuto: got sad. went out into a raging snowstorm in socks and no jacket. laid down in the snow for a long time. somehow, miraculously, didn't get a cold afterwards?

akaashi and/or yachi: changed majors and career paths because a pretty upperclassman asked them to. (i am very happy in my chosen path but jesus christ THAT was why i did it?)

hinata: flew from coast to coast of the country, then drove halfway back to the midwest in the span of three days. started a new job on the fourth day. didn't sign a lease on an apartment until the fifth day.

semi: skipped a day of work to drive four hours there and four hours back for a fall out boy concert. totally worth it but driving at 4am after a concert wasn’t the smartest thing ever to be done.

kuroo: started reading homestuck in the year of our lord 2024. this is an attempt to remain in contact with long distance friendships (by doing a bookclub) but jesus fucking christ dude.

ok this is getting too long and i needed to be ready for work, like 15 min ago lol. maybe i'll write more of these later, but i hope you enjoy these and my silly disasters are a little comforting :)

[electronicnutcycle]

request for a symbrock fic! fix it fic where venom finds eddie, eddie is in shambles and constantly talking to himself so when venom first finds him, eddie has to be convinced that venom is truly back

"In shambles" || symbrock fic

Description: venom finds Eddie, Eddie is in shambles and constantly talking to himself so when venom first finds him, Eddie has to be convinced that venom is truly back.

Pairing: Eddie x Venom.

Warnings: LOTS of angst , but then fluff at the end.

Venoms POV:

Everything was eerily quiet when I awoke again , I had fortunately survived the attack to save my host and the best thing in my life so far , Eddie. But as the sun started to rise on the battlefield and illuminated the destruction and chaos , I couldn't see Eddie anywhere and I knew that I had to get out of the chaos fill scene knowing that Eddie wouldn't just leave me here since we've accidentally bonded that one night and eventually became each others rocks . Although as I was so weak from the previous night , I had to slowly travel to find him but slowly but surely I somehow escaped the battlefield that once held the facility. whilst I continued my search for Eddie , days went by and as Day in and day out came and went by and i slowly but surely got further using whatever I could without using all of my powers at once. Eventually I somehow got too New York noticing a welcome to New York sign as I slithered into the bustling city . Guessing that Eddie had gone back to our shared apartment , but as I made my way to his apartment I just hoped that he hadn’t done anything bad while I was gone.

It was night when I arrived at our apartment building , the full moon and the soft flickers of the street lamps were my only source of light. I managed to snaked under the front door to the apartments and as I made it up through each floor checking for our apartment . At last after climbing so many stairs I found our apartment and the got closer , I noticed that the door to our apartment was cracked open just a smidge , allowing a little bit of light to spill out into the hallway. Nervousness started to eat at me as I started to think of all the worst possible scenarios that could’ve happened and as I reached and silently slipped through the tiny crack through the door and quickly hid behind a dying pottered plant , I started to notice how much more dirtier the apartment had become , more than usual. Writings on the wall , overflowing foods , dying plants , overthrown furniture and many other things . I was in a little bit of shock as Eddie is dirty but not to this point as the last time I had seen the apartment he was actively trying to tidy the apartment up . Whilst I looked around the apartment hoping to find Eddie , I started to hear soft mumbling coming from the bedroom and as I got closer to the bedroom door the mumbling got a little bit louder and I new the mumbling voice came from Eddie. As I reached the door where Eddie presumably was I felt hesitant to even enter not because I didn’t trust Eddie or think he could hurt me but because I don’t like to see him in despair or hurt in any way. Even if I annoy him a lot I still love him , but as I cleared my thoughts and shook my anxiety away I made my way under the closed door to see what Eddie was doing .

But as I made my way under door and saw what state Eddie was in , I felt waves of sadness wash over me as I saw him . He looked like he hadn’t slept in days and instead of sleeping he spent the entire time we were apart crying as his eyes were bloodshot and wet , there was also writing on the wall with god knows what and there was a high chance he hadn't a chance to change clothes either as the clothes he was wearing looked more disgusting than usual , he looked a mess. I tried to hide myself as I got closer , not wanting to alarm him to much , but any ruffle or minor sound I made was concealed by his rambling and then as i got closer I realized he was mumbling about me . It was about a lot of things about me , most I couldn't make out as he had his head in his hands but what I could make out was referring to me. While I felt a little scared to approach him even though I shouldn't have been , I continued on as I knew that we desperately needed each other and as I stopped right in front of him it took me a minute to start the conversation as I knew that he wasn’t gonna be the one to start the conversation cause of how delirious he seemed.

“hey Eddie” I weakly grumbled out as I looked up at him , immediately he took his hands out of hands with a bewildered look on his face “bu-but you can’t be real” “ I saw you die right in front of me?” He continued on in disbelief and in a way to prove that was real I started to get closer to him more than I already was and stopped when I was on his lap . "Do you believe me now?" , Immediately as I said this I felt a hand on my head and i leant into the touch knowing it would help Eddie come into his senses "i-is that really you v-venom?" he whimpered out still having a scared look in his eyes and shaking to the bone "yes , its me Eddie you don't need to worry anymore" I said nuzzling into him , causing us to transform into one . We were one again.

A/N: Hey guys! , so sorry for this fic coming out late I hope anon and everyone who reads this fic a good day/night!!.

[actuallysaiyan]

|Come Down And Waste Away With Me| Chapter One: I Am Here.

warnings: angst, mentions of death, set during the final war arc, mentions of alcohol, very heavy and dark themes, mentions of wounds, driving under the influence, self-deprecation, hospital stay, Reader has a quirk and a hero name pairings: All Might/Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Disgraced Hero!Reader summary: the last time you saw Valorie was when the car had flipped and you were seeing her lose her life. while in the hospital during the end of the final war, you begin to lose hope that you're even cut out to be a good person. someone hears your cries for help, and he shows you a light.

dividers: @adornedwithlight

taglist: @cherryblossombankai

masterlist

In the year 20xx…

Here we are at the scene of the crime. Last night was the tragic car accident that took the life of Spectral Valor, also known as Valorie Teagan, and left about half a dozen others injured. What was speculated as foul play at first ended up being corrected as driving under the influence. Also in the vehicle with Spectral Valor was the electrokinetic hero known as Haywire. More details at six…

“You could have died!” A voice yells at you through your drunken stupor.

Here you rest in your hospital bed. Wires and tubes poking and prodding and coming from your mangled body. You fractured your tibia causing you the most pain, followed by the few cracked ribs. A concussion, a few chipped teeth, a fractured tibia, three cracked ribs…

But really none of them hurt more than losing your best friend. Valorie was your glue. She was the angel that helped you shine. Even while you were becoming a hero, she was always right there with you. It hurt you to think you’d never get to see that smile again. You’d never hear her laughter again. You tried to not cry, but it was so fucking hard.

“Did you hear me, Haywire?! You could have died! I can’t deal with this shit anymore.”

It’s the voice of your manager. Why would a hero need a manager? You don’t know, but you had a feeling it had to do with all the club life you were leading. The drinking, the drugs, the week long benders you’d go on…it’s not good for a hero of your stature. Yet you were so good at hiding it. 

“Ken,” you try to say despite your throat having a lump in it. “Ken, I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry, kid. I promised your parents I’d take care of you, but I can’t.”

Oh yeah…Kento had been a family friend. When you lost your parents, he promised to take good care of you. You lost your parents at a young age. They had died doing what they love, saving the world.

“I promise,” you swallow hard. “I promise, I’ll do better.”

Kento sits on the edge of the bed. He runs his fingers through his sandy blond hair. He then sheds a few of his own tears, wiping them away and facing you. He presses his hand carefully on the cast that is on your left leg.

“The agency is dropping you. Or at least, that’s the gist of what I understood.”

You looked away ashamed. “Is anyone still in that building? Isn’t there a war going on?”

Kento laughs sarcastically. He explains to you that even with the war happening, and with the crumbling of society, the agency you still worked for had decided to shut its doors for the time being. Instead of healing and getting to go back to it after, you were being pushed out.

“Sorry kid, but I can’t fix this one.”

That had been three weeks ago. You got your official letter about two days after that conversation. You didn’t get many visitors in the hospital. Especially not with all the heroes coming back from the war. All For One had been defeated. Even that young kid, Shigaraki, had been defeated. Somehow you were clinging to those details as a means to cope with Valorie’s death.

Then you got your hands on a smartphone. You were able to keep up with the battle a lot better this way. Things had seemed so dire for so long. The way things could have ended made you nervous. It wracked you with guilt. You weren’t out there helping. You were just a waste of space. All you were was good for nothing. You couldn’t even contribute to the fight to save humanity and heroes alike.

Rotting in a hospital room after everything that was going on, you begin to wonder if maybe you should have died in that stupid car crash as well. You had been the one to procure the alcohol that night. You were the one who stupidly coaxed Valorie into driving back home. Things had been so bleak for heroes. Nobody trusted you. This only made you feel worse, turning to drugs and alcohol even harder to cope with this shit.

You remember the way you felt when you finally opened your eyes. Just once…just once before passing out again. Seeing her lifeless body next to you. The car had flipped multiple times. Nothing hurt at the time because of the shock, but seeing her…oh Valorie had been so beautiful.

Her life was snuffed out before it even truly began. You had wanted so desperately to start your own agency with her. That had been the plan. You two would have gone on to do such amazing things. And here you had been, looking at the lifeless body of your truest friend.

In the history of assholes, you wondered if maybe you were going to take the top spot. Nothing could make you feel any better. You hated yourself for being so weak to addiction. So weak to addiction that you couldn’t even properly contribute to the world. People were out there risking their lives to keep everyone safe, and you were partying.

And now, you were in the hospital, taking up space.

And even worse, was that you were in the same hospital as Him.

All Might.

The man, the legend, the strongest…

Call him whatever you want, but he also ended up in the same hospital as you. While you were out partying in the wreckage of Japan and getting in the fatal car accident that killed your friend, he and all the other pro heroes had been fighting the good fight. The dread and the pain you felt deep inside of you kept you from wanting anyone but your manager, Kento, to come visit.

Still, you had been curious about the extent of All Might’s injuries. After the battle in Kamino Ward, you had found out about his secret along with everyone else in the world. You still tried to cling to having him as your idol.  You tried your best to see the good in him, just like everyone else had accepted. But soon when people stopped seeing the heroes as the good guys, they started to see that their Symbol Of Peace wasn’t going to be the one to save them. Everyone else basically dropped him like yesterday’s news, but you always looked up to the man.

That’s what kept you and Valorie close. A transfer student from America, Valorie had been very interested in meeting All Might. She was a big fan of his, memorizing all the battles he had in America. The shine in her eyes is what made you become even more fanatical of the man.

She was a shining force and you lost her. You lost the one person in this world that knew you more than anyone else. She was always the one to lift you up when you truly needed it. She was the one to show you the logical way of things.

But times were tough. People started to distrust the heroes. They didn’t want heroes to come help. Even prior to that, you and Valorie had enjoyed the fame and fortune that came with being pro heroes. You had indulged in all sorts of things from time to time, but you never thought you’d get to the point you were now.

You were clinging to anything in a way of coping with this. With the fighting going on outside, you hadn’t been sure if Valorie even got a proper funeral. It didn’t matter, you thought to yourself, because you weren’t going to be able to go. You were confined to this hospital bed for some time.

And with that came the change of rooms…

It all happened so fast. One day you were in a room by yourself, the next day you were being wheeled into another room. The curtains had been drawn around the other occupant in this room. As nosy as you were, you couldn’t quite just get out of bed and find out who it was. Still, you could tell that whoever it was, they were in worse shape than you were.

Lots of rooms were going to be pretty full now. The beds would be needed for those who actually put their lives on the line. Unlike you, the waste of space. You cried often, trying to hide it from your roommate. You tried to desperately keep your sobs low. Thankfully, whoever was in this room with you was often sleeping.

You longed to be able to walk again. The doctors said it would be a while before you were up and doing that. But you hadn’t lost the use of your leg. You’d be going through lots of extended physical therapy to go along with the rehabilitation and emotional therapy you’d be going through as well.

Crying had been the soothing balm at first, but the less Kento came to visit you, the lonelier you got. You heard all kinds of things from the hallways. The news that the doctors would give you had just made you feel even worse. And the one person who came to visit you that wasn’t your manager had been Valorie’s mother. She was very sympathetic with you, which truly surprised you.

Your heart felt so heavy with so much. You felt like you could burst from the amount of emotions that run through you every second. You were clinging to the sweater her mom brought you and you sniffed her scent every chance you could.

Nothing could bring her back and you knew this.

Nothing could bring back the dead.

The world could be at peace, and there was still so much hurt. So much pain would linger. The world could be rebuilt, but the pain would remain like a stain on everyone’s heart. You wondered how you and everyone else would get through this.

You wished you could take it all back…

The last moments with her keep replaying in your mind and you know you’ll never get to see that beautiful smile again. No, she won’t be there to comfort you ever again when you need her.

One night, things seemed very quiet. You were just trying to get some rest despite the fact that your body was aching. You had spent the good part of an hour just scrolling through your phone that somehow hadn’t been damaged in the car crash. The way things were going, it seemed like the world and Japan was trying to band together to get over this.

Still, you couldn’t help but go look at pictures of her. It was breaking your heart, but you needed to see her smile. The same smile that always pushed you to do your best. Even when you felt scared as a new and upcoming hero, she was there to guide you through it all even though she was just as scared as you.

Tears slid down your cheeks as you tried so hard to quiet your sobs. It had been a few days now that you were in the new room and you were sure that whoever your new roommate was would probably grow tired of your constant crying. Doesn’t matter what’s going on in the world, whoever was trying to heal next to your bed would find you annoying.

In reality, the person in the bed next to yours was sleeping most of the time. Tonight was the first time he heard your cries. It pained his heart more than he’d like to admit. He had been in so much pain, but so happy to know the outcome of the battle. He had worked so hard to make sure things would go the way he desperately hoped for.

And now with hearing you cry, his heart clenched in his chest. These were the tears of a lost someone. When he had been first admitted to the hospital, they had told him that he’d be in the same room as you. He barely knew you, but he had heard of the electrokinetic hero Haywire. He knew what had happened, and he did not think any less of you.

Finally, the curtain is pulled back from the bed and you gasp when you see the older man in his bed. You try to wipe away your tears, but it’s obvious you’ve been crying. He looks at you and gives you his best smile, even while in a sorry state himself.

“Don’t cry,” he says. “I am here.”

reblogs and comments always appreciated!

©actuallysaiyan 2024– do not repost on other platforms, copy, translate or edit my works!

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[freedomsargeant]

Complete | Paul Aron

Hello loves! Thought I would make another book now that I'm on Thanksgiving break. My requests are open if anyone would like me to write them a little something! I hope you enjoy it!

Paul Aron X OC

Summary: Paul is unhappy with the race results and Olivia decides to spend the rest of the day trying to cheer him up

Warnings: none, it's all fluff!

Paul leaned back against his car, eyes fixed on the ground. The pit area was quiet now, the buzz of the race weekend already fading into the usual background of his life. But today was different. Today, disappointment felt heavier. He was lost in thoughts of missed turns and split-second miscalculations when he heard familiar footsteps approaching.

"Hey, you," Olivia said, her voice bright and comforting as she walked up beside him. Her smile, as usual, softened the edge of his frustration, if only a little.

"Hey, Liv," he murmured, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

She tilted her head, looking him over. “Rough day, huh?”

Paul nodded, swallowing back the urge to vent his frustration. His races mattered to him more than anything, and today’s loss—well, it stung. “Could’ve done better. I don’t know...everything felt off.”

Without a word, she leaned against the car beside him, shoulder to shoulder. He felt a familiar warmth, the same comfort that Olivia always brought. They'd been close for years, ever since he'd started racing in junior karting leagues. She’d seen every high and low and somehow never wavered in her support.

“Hey, I have an idea,” she said suddenly. “How about we leave the pit and just...do something fun? Like, something not-racing related?”

He couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. Olivia always had a way of making things better, even if he didn’t quite understand how she did it.

“Alright,” he said, surprising himself. “What do you have in mind?”

* * * *

They found themselves at a small park overlooking the city, and Olivia had come prepared with a blanket and a bag of snacks she’d picked up on the way. Paul realized how rare it was to see this side of life, away from the endless noise of racing, the thrill of speed. He hadn’t really just...stopped in a long time.

They sat down, and she handed him a snack without a word, her usual sense of timing impeccable. She knew he needed a little time to shake off the disappointment.

“It’s okay to feel let down sometimes,” she said, as if reading his mind. “You’re always so focused, so hard on yourself. But, Paul, it’s also okay to just...be.”

“Be?” He chuckled lightly, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t think that’s in my programming, Liv. You know that.”

She laughed, nudging him with her shoulder. “I know. But you can try for one afternoon, can’t you?”

He looked over at her, really looked this time. Her bright eyes, her steady presence...for a moment, the frustration of the day melted away. She wasn’t here to talk about the race, to criticize his laps, or even to ask him why he was feeling low. She was just here for him, exactly as he was.

“You know, I don’t say this enough,” he said quietly. “But...thanks. For being here, I mean. For always knowing exactly what to say and when to say it.”

A soft smile spread across her face, a look he hadn’t seen before, or maybe had never really noticed. “It’s nothing, Paul. It’s just...I know you. I know how much racing means to you. And it’s okay to be disappointed. But you’re more than one race, you know?”

Her words lingered in the air, and for the first time, he found himself really seeing her, understanding what she meant to him. Olivia had been there through every victory, every setback, her presence as constant and grounding as the road beneath his tires. She wasn’t just his friend—she was his anchor.

He took a breath, suddenly aware of how close they were sitting, their shoulders brushing, their faces just inches apart. There was a spark between them, something he’d brushed off or ignored, thinking it was just the comfort of a close friendship.

But now, in the quiet of the park, with her gaze soft and knowing, he realized he didn’t want to ignore it anymore.

“Liv...” he started, his voice catching. He cleared his throat, forcing himself to speak the words he’d been holding back. “I...I don’t think I could do this without you. Racing, life—any of it. You make it...better.”

She looked up, her eyes searching his face, her expression softening. “Paul, I’ll always be here for you. I don’t need you to be perfect. I just need you to be...you.”

He felt his heart pound, realizing just how precious she was to him, how much he’d come to rely on her presence, her quiet strength. Without thinking, he reached over, letting his hand find hers. It was a simple touch, but it said everything he couldn’t quite find the words for.

For the first time in what felt like ages, he didn’t feel the weight of the race, the disappointment, or the pressure. He just felt...complete.

As they sat there, watching the city lights blink to life in the distance, he realized that maybe—just maybe—he’d found something even more valuable than a win on the track.

[mad-hunts]

if barton tried hard enough, he thought, imagining himself being literally anywhere else but the warehouse right then was easy. this place was never meant to be lived in for an extended period of time after all; despite the fact that it had appliances that you might see in an every day home like a fridge.

it put him on edge instead of at ease, and it certainly didn't better barton's mood when he stayed in it either, after all. but so long as he was allowed to dream within it to some degree... it was tolerable. plus, he had company here, courtesy of nico, jack, and barton also supposed jervis counted. nico had complicated feelings towards the doctor, though, and spending time around jack whilst in it thus far gave barton an unfortunate impression; which was that his own son was made nervous by him.

and the irony of it all was, barton only gathered that because he could feel cognitive empathy towards him. something that didn't include feeling but reasoning. therefore, the hopes of him somehow patching that up with jack someday were drastically decreased. barton vaguely listened to jervis respond to what he'd said about him being in the warehouse solely because of them; all of the words but one not quite having any actual impact on him, this being 'nightmares.'

the smell of the yuja tea that jack prepared for jervis, as fragrant in the air that it was, seemed to be the one thing keeping him from being sucked down a unpleasant train of thought. for someone who didn't feel human half the time, barton sure as hell experienced his own fair share of seeing 'ghosts' from the past and mourning the way some things had gone in his life. and regret, as well as sorrow, were practically intertwined in every single 'normal' person's life that he'd known.

speaking of regret, once he'd closed the curtains, something from the small cabinet hanging on the wall next to them fell to the floor. barton picked it up and was immediately reminded of why he kept this photo here instead of at his home. hiding it away helped alleviate the pain of not only loving someone and losing them, but also knowing that at the time it was taken, everything seemed fine.

'my 19th birthday party - spent right, with my handsome fiancé!' was written on the back in marcy's handwriting. barton felt like screaming and smashing something simultaneously. the photo was instead placed in his pant pocket, whilst he dragged his hands down his face and thanked his lucky stars that jervis wasn't exactly expecting any big conversations from him. barton's hand flexed by his side before he was changing his shirt, wondering just what the hell he was supposed to do after seeing that again.

grief was a thing he'd never been able to pend down how to deal with 'appropriately,' unfortunately. from marcy, to the momentary blink of an eye that felt like his bittersweet friendship with yves, to his son julien's death - barton thought he'd be destroyed by all of those losses for the longest time. but he supposed he was still here, god willing, or laughing at him more like if such a being did exist. barton noticed the fabric that was splitting on the blanket and how jervis very much appeared to be in his own world.

it was at that moment that he reached for something in that same cabinet he'd opened to change his shirt, finding that sewing thread and needle he'd stored in there long ago. barton kept it there because the shirt he was wearing had actually torn at some point and he'd fixed it. though, he had no use for it now, so he decided to put it on the edge of edge of the cabinet if jervis wanted it. but he didn't really know what he wanted. that night seemed to be a series of gut punches now as the other touched upon how jack was a good person and barton should be proud of him.

he blinked several times as he felt this sensation like something ugly was swirling within him. jack had always kind of gotten the short-end of the stick, and for what? ❝ ahh. well, sometimes i've found myself practicing behaviors towards him that my father used to use on me... but i try to stop myself when that happens. jack has come a long way, as the first time i met him, he was a scared two year old who was on his own with his brother. but now jack's a young man and very brave, despite maybe still being scared sometimes. ❞ barton cleared his throat then, ❝ that's normal though. so yeah, i am proud of him. ❞

barton turned his attention back to jervis and tilted his head at the other's sluggishness. being vulnerable like that surprisingly didn't feel too nerve-wracking, as he added just a bit more to the equation. barton gave the iv bag jervis was hooked up to a good squeeze, ❝ hmm. are you still in pain, jervis? or are you just tired? ❞ he observed the other silently and looked down at the cards before the both of them. that is, before barton heard jervis approve of him reading his fortune.

he drifted a hand along the cards then. choosing one that felt 'right' came without much difficulty to barton, and when he did, the reversed 'wheel of fortune' card for jervis's past. the next card he chose was the reversed 'six of swords' for jervis's present. barton flipped the last one for his future and was greeted by 'the sun,' which made him let out a soft 'huh' and smile a bit. ❝ well... i hate to start off with the past when you got this card, but i guess we have to. ❞ he was about to start interpreting jervis's fortune when jack came back into the room with the breakfast he promised the other. well, talk about convenient timing.

Jervis merely rolled his eyes at Barton’s remark, fingers biting into the fabric of the blanket as he pulled it around his shoulders like an old shawl. The plush material was a little threadbare at the corner; a tear disrupting the otherwise seamless fabric.

Sea-green and white plaid. Utilitarian, impersonal.

It sufficed perfectly; his thin frame was almost terminally intolerant to the cold. 27 years in Gotham had failed to inoculate him against the frigid rains and bone-chilling air sweeping off the harbor.

“Trust me, I’m well aware where I would be, if it weren’t for you both. I see enough of the place in my nightmares… so I don’t require any reminders.” He flexed his fingers around the teacup, feeling the warmth seep into his hands as he cautiously tipped the liquid into his mouth. It had a strange, but not unpleasant consistency, like warm, thin honey that slid smoothly over his tongue in a tangy blend of sweet and sour. Tiny bits of softened citrus peel floated in the syrupy mixture.

Barton’s IV pole scraped slightly along the concrete floor, a sharp metallic sound that mingled with the sudden rasp of the curtains being jerked shut. The room was clean and sparse, a sterile space designed to be free of clutter, yet a faint, telltale mustiness clung to the air—a lingering scent of damp fabric and stale dust that disinfectant alone couldn’t quite mask. Beyond the makeshift partition, the rest of the warehouse stretched out in vast, dark emptiness. The floor was cold, unpolished concrete, marred with cracks that split like spider webs. Dim, flickering fluorescent lights cast a harsh, uneven glow, barely cutting through the haze of dust that swirled in the air.

But, of course, beggars couldn’t be choosers when it came to hideaways—especially when you’ve learned to take shelter wherever you can find it. Or when you were part of the criminal element.

How far he’d come and how little had truly changed.

Jervis glanced across the room at where his coat, shirt, and gloves rested neatly on the desk, carefully folded with almost surgical precision. He flexed his hands again around the teacup, feeling the phantom prickle of sensation where the wool-lined leather should be—an exposed vulnerability that gnawed at him, made his skin itch with invisible grime.

He sank his teeth into a particularly broad piece of yuja peel, the bitter tang releasing as he bit down; meanwhile, Barton’s voice drifted in one ear, out the other like the static hum on a faulty wireless. He chewed slowly, savoring the rind as he turned his attention back to the small tear in the blanket. Nodded intermittently.

Jervis’ callused, scarred fingers found the frayed edge; the fabric was worn thin and splitting, and he traced it absentmindedly, feeling the uneven fibers beneath his touch. For a moment, his thoughts shifted to the sewing kit buried somewhere in his bag, imagining the small spool of thread and the thin, glinting needles; each one ready to pierce the fabric and pull it back together.

As if stitching this small wound would make any real difference, he thought bitterly; like it could somehow soothe the cold reality pressing in on them from all sides… It was a small, pointless task, a flicker of control in a situation that felt like it was slipping away, unraveling faster than he could sew it back together. He knew it wouldn’t ameliorate anything—wouldn’t solve the problems looming larger than this tiny, frayed corner. And yet, his fingers lingered there, desperate for something tangible to fix; something he could make whole again, if only for a moment.

Jervis gave no reply as Barton moved to change his shirt; blinking hard as he gazed down at the floor, but the darkness behind his eyelids refused to stay empty. Flecks of indigo light bloomed in the black, shifting like dust motes that twisted with each beat of his heart. The room swam as he opened his eyes again, the ceiling blurred and murky like the styrofoam cup Alice stored her wet paintbrushes in. He scratched absently at the IV in his arm, feeling the tug of the thin plastic embedded in his skin but barely registering the discomfort. The bright pinpricks danced at the edges of his vision, trailing like little comets whenever he turned his head.

“You ought to be proud of him, I imagine. Your son… he seems like a good lad.” Jervis’ voice was a wisp of silk, smooth and thin, like it might unravel into nothing if he spoke too loudly. He tilted his head slightly, almost resembling a marionette on a slack string, the hint of a smile touching his lips but never quite reaching his eyes. He ran a finger along the rim of his teacup, the motion delicate and deliberate as he pondered Barton’s final query.

“Hmm… can you?” Gray eyes blinked slowly, the lids heavy and sluggish, further dragged down by fatigue. The question lingered in the air, softly innocuous. He glanced over at the tarot cards Jack left behind on the desk—arranged in a rough, careless spread, but somehow feeling deliberate, as though the cards had fallen exactly where they were meant to. The edges were worn, curling slightly; the images esoteric, half-familiar symbols. Stars, sun, moon, cups and swords, animals and human figures rendered in faded colors.

He paused, gaze narrowing, subtly curious despite the exhaustion that weighed down his expression. For a moment, his hand tightened around his teacup; twitched like he might reach out and touch them, as if by brushing the surface he could glean some hidden answer buried beneath the painted ink.

‘Why, they're only a pack of cards, after all.’

His grip on the blanket slipped momentarily, fumbling at the worn edge before he reached for his collar instead. He dug beneath the charcoal fabric of his T-shirt, searching with a practiced motion until his fingers found the tarnished silver chain again. He drew it out slowly, the weight of it comforting against his skin as he absently ran his thumb over his and Sylvie’s rings, threaded side by side on the links.

The metal was dull, no longer shining with the luster it once had, but it carried a certain softness now, smoothed by years of worry. His eyes dropped for a second before he let the chain slip back beneath his shirt. “By all means, if it tickles your fancy…” Jervis gave a short, rough half-shrug, the motion stunted as though his shoulder couldn’t quite decide whether to follow through.

[lynxgriffin]

Eldritchrune - A Dark Offer

1 | 2 | 3

Story Setup Eldritchrune Masterpost

After a long cry out, Ralsei tries to get Kris to open up a bit. What Kris wants does have a cost, though!

Second part is here, and third part will be up tomorrow!

[theswedishpajas]

[Mii Maker Music]

!!Find the palette in this thread!!

[athina-blaine]

man the griffin soup chapter and the changeling chapter really just happened to fall into the same episode bracket huh ...

[freaky-flawless]

Could we celebrate any other character's birthday....

[martyrbat]

habeas corpus – detective comics #1086

(ID in alt!)

[commander-pigeon]

Finished the outer wilds and had an emotion so strong now my head hurts.

[quitetheketch-moved]

Hey, sorry, but shit keeps getting more expensive and we're out of groceries again. Don't know when we'll get money next, if I could get 60-70 bucks together I could get us groceries for the week, but even a small order to keep us going a few more days would be greatly appreciated. PayPal - Venmo