#barry milland x reader

[emma-frxst]

Choking on Circumstances (ch. 1)

Pairing: Detective David Loki x f!reader

Summary: You and Loki navigate the aftermath of the Dover-Birch case all while navigating your feelings for each other.

Chapter Summary: the callback to Conyers. You return to Conyers, Pennsylvania sooner than you expected.

The ending of the Prisoners movie is meant to be ambiguous, however, in this fic we are going to assume Loki found Mr. Dover and he survives his injuries.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: language, talk of violence, inaccuracies about police/detectives/legal mumbo jumbo/ forensics/ psychology/ medical stuff. It’s giving two idiots in love, Loki being down bad, long distance relationship,

Authors note: The header is made with pics from Pinterest. The divider is from @firefly-graphics Tag list open! Let me know if you want on or off the tag list. Requests are also open!

Tagging regular tags and also some people who’ve kept up with demand for proof (just once) Tags: loki only tags: @spideyrights @sataninsatin @go-commander-kim @severuined @romancries @eclecticfashionbookszipper @fagen @sizzlingcloudmentality @mottergirl99

@meijasworldasf @1ivinqdeadqir1main @new-romanticz1989 @kittycat-kisses @diegos-sad-chick @sharp-cheekbones-locked @ochoaslvr @captgrim @buck-this-nasty @shycollectionwolfstuff

I’m shouting out @anunusers for being such a great support to me and this fic!

Your hands were sweaty and shaky as you rose from your seat; your favorite turtleneck suddenly felt too constricting. It was late January in Conyers now, and you just thought it was chilly at thanksgiving. You took a deep, steadying breath as you approached the witness stand; the old wood creaking under the weight of you. Both the defense and the prosecution deemed your expert testimony necessary for The People V. Keller Dover.

No matter how many times you testified in court, it still made you nervous. You’d think you’d be used to it by now, but every eye in the courtroom being on you was unnerving. But the nerves reminded you that you’re human.

Your left hand rested steadily on the Bible, your right hand raised in familiar poise. You took the oath very seriously. You believed in justice. You just hoped the system wouldn’t fail.

Your nerves settled for good upon finding David in the gallery. His usual scowl ingrained on his face. He was fixated on Keller, eyes boring a hole in the back of his head.

If looks could kill.

Loki made damn well sure that there would be a case against Dover. He needed to be held accountable for what he did to Alex Jones Barry Milland.

You and Loki weren’t sure if Keller Dover was really fucking smart or really fucking dumb. Keller had refused to take any deal the assistant district attorney offered, even though he was offered a damn good one. According to his lawyer, he would ‘take any chance at getting to go home to his family.’

His lawyer tried and tried to explain why a jury trial was a bad idea. If Keller didn’t take the plea deal, and the jury found him guilty on all counts, he would do at-least 20 years for kidnapping, aggravated assault, aggravated battery, torture, and whatever else the DA tacks on. It would add up to a lifetime.

Keller wouldn’t hear it. He was sure if the jury heard his story, heard about Anna, if they saw a desperate father instead of a deliberate psychopath, then they would be sympathetic enough to find him not guilty by reason of temporary insanity.

You and Loki were almost worried that his plan would work.

Almost.

It was uncanny that Loki managed to find Mr. Dover in the first place, let alone finding him alive.

You knew David wouldn’t stop until he found all the pieces to the puzzle. He’d solved every case he’d ever been assigned, remember?

You thought back to when you first got the call.

You put your key in the door in a hurry, eager to get some rest. Not that you didn’t enjoy your time with detective Loki, but you were eager to sleep in your own bed and use your own bathroom. You swung your front door wide, luggage in tow; your home welcomed you like a warm hug.

You kicked off your shoes and drug your bags to bed bedroom.

Before you could do much of anything else, Your phone rang

You let out a groan. Couldn’t this wait ‘til you got back in the office?

The called ID surprised you.

None other than David Loki

“Miss me already?” You teased, picking up on the fourth ring.

“I found Dover! I-I found him.”

You nearly dropped the phone.

“What?”

Your eyes scanned over to the Dover family.

Keller was trying to look as pitiful as he could in front of the jury, his crutches proudly perched next to him on the table.

He had nearly lost his leg due to his gunshot wound going untreated for hours. But by some miracle he was learning to walk on it again.

Grace and the children sat directly behind him in the gallery. Grace Keller looked fucking tired. Not just tired, but plain worn out. You guessed the stress of your daughter being abducted and nearly dying, your husband nearly killing a man, and managing a household would do that to a person.

You wondered if she still stood by what she said when she and Anna visited Loki that day in the hospital. “He’s a good man.”

Was he Grace, was he?

Behind them sat the Birch family. They marked the end of the people you recognized. The other spectators were just press and news personnel.

“Please state your name and profession to the jury.” The district attorney, Julia, asked you. Or told you rather. From her reputation, Julia Williams didn’t mess around.

You knew how this would go, and not because you’d spent the last two days undergoing trial prep, but because you’d done it many a time before.

It usually went something like this:

You stated your name and explained what you did and what your job was. Then you’d testify to the defendant’s state of mind during the crime, citing evidence of course. Next you’d explain why or how the defendant knew or didn’t know what they were doing was wrong. Therefore, in your professional opinion, should be found guilty- or not guilty- of the crime. Then, the defense would question you, try to discredit you, and ultimately fail- because you were damn good at your job.

Your eyes scanned the jury as you talked, it was only day two of the trail, but they already looked tired. Maybe their deliberation at the end of all this would be quick. The evidence against Dover proved he did it without a doubt, but the Dover family somehow managed to afford a damn good lawyer. He wouldn’t prove temporary insanity beyond reasonable doubt, not if you could help it.

As you looked back to Loki, he was already looking at you.

And he was smiling.

[littleoddwriter]

Rules, Guidelines, etc.:

[Used to be: ronaldrx]

I'm a hobby writer and mostly write (x Reader) FanFictions and Headcanons. But I am also working on my original story whenever I can, so that I’ll hopefully publish it as an actual book someday. My Ao3.

Here’s a link to my Ko-Fi, in case you want to support me financially. It would mean a lot to me! (Obviously no obligation whatsoever! You never have to pay for anything on my blog, it’s merely an option for donations.)

Also, here are my sideblogs if you’re interested:

Dead Poets Society

Horror

Raúl Esparza

The Simpsons

Only ask for the characters I’ve got listed, please. I’ve written down all of the ones I actually write for, and the list is being updated regularly, as I often find new (actors, whose) characters I write for! (And yes, I always write for every character, so don’t ever worry if you wanna ask for one I haven’t written for in a long time, or ever, it’s fine!) Please always be patient with me. If I haven’t outright declined your request, it’s definitely in the works; even if it has been weeks or months since you’ve sent it in! And only send your requests via ASKs. No DMs or comments, please.

If you have a request, send an Ask to my inbox.

NO sexual NSFW requests, please (more details further down).

Requests = CLOSED (Max. Limit: 10)

Current number of requests: 10

Last updated: October 29, 2023

Masterlists are linked with fandoms/actors/characters below. I WRITE FOR:

ALFRED MOLINA characters:

Doctor Otto Octavius/Doctor Octopus

DAVID DASTMALCHIAN characters:

Abner Krill/Polka-Dot Man

Bob Taylor

Denham

James Lewis

Johnson

Kurt Goreshter

Lonny Crane

Murdoc

Philippe/Abra Kadabra

Simon Lynch

Thomas Schiff

ETHAN HAWKE characters:

Arthur Harrow

Ellison Oswalt

Goodnight Robicheaux

James Sandin

EWAN MCGREGOR characters:

Alex Law

Catcher Block

Christopher Robin

Curt Wild

Dan Torrance

John Bishop

Mark Renton

Obi-Wan Kenobi 

Roman Sionis/Black Mask* (Birds of Prey - Masc!Reader only) [Any other version of Roman Sionis/Black Mask can be with a Gender Neutral/Female!Reader.]

HUGH DANCY characters:

Adam Raki

Cal Roberts

Luke Brandon

Executive ADA Nolan Price

Will Graham

KARL URBAN characters:

Billy Butcher

Black Hat

John Kennex

Dr. Leonard "Bones" McCoy

Markiplier EGOS:

Darkiplier

Illinois

Wilford Warfstache

Yancy

PAUL DANO characters:

Alex Jones/Barry Milland [Platonic only!]

Dwayne Hoover [Platonic only!]

Edward Nashton/The Riddler

Eli Sunday

Jay (Okja)

Joby Taylor

Klitz

PEDRO PASCAL characters:

Agent Whiskey

Dave York

Dio Morrissey

Eddie

Ezra

Francisco “Catfish” Morales

Marcus Moreno

Marcus Pike

Max Phillips

Maxwell Lord

Oberyn Martell

Ricky Hauk

RAÚL ESPARZA characters:

Bobby

Dr. Frederick Chilton*

Jackson Neill

Jonas Nightingale

Rafael Barba

Characters from 9-1-1 (Lone Star):

Carlos Reyes*

Eddie Diaz

Evan “Buck” Buckley

Howard “Chimney” Han

Josh Russo*

Mateo Chavez

Paul Strickland

Bobby Nash

Tim Rosewater

TK Strand*

Characters from Law and Order(: Special Victims Unit):

Detective/ADA Dominick “Sonny” Carisi, Jr.

Sergeant Mike Dodds

Detective Nick Amaro

Executive ADA Nolan Price

ADA Peter Stone

ADA Rafael Barba

Deputy Chief William Dodds

Little Miss Sunshine:

Dwayne Hoover [Platonic only!]

Frank*

Our Flag Means Death:

Edward Teach/Blackbeard*

Frenchie

Izzy Hands

Stede Bonnet*

Prisoners (2013):

Alex Jones/Barry Milland [Platonic only!]

Bob Taylor

Detective David Loki

Renfield (2023):

Count Dracula

Robert Montague Renfield

Tedward “Teddy” Lobo

SLASHERS/Horror Film Characters:

Asa Emory/The Collector

Ash J. Williams [I will usually default to Ash from the TV show, unless requested otherwise!]

Billy Lenz (1974)

Billy Loomis

Bo Sinclair

Brahms Heelshire

Bubba Sawyer/Leatherface (TCM 1974 and TCM 2)

Charles Lee Ray/Chucky

Chop Top Sawyer

Corey Cunningham

Dewey Riley

Drayton Sawyer

Herbert West*

Jesse Cromeans/Chromeskull

Lawrence Gordon

Lester Sinclair

Luigi Largo

Mark Hoffman  

Nubbins Sawyer

Pavi Largo

Stu Macher  

Vincent Sinclair

William Easton

Star Wars:

Anakin Skywalker

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Qui-Gon Jinn

The Girl Next Door:

Klitz

Eli

Characters from The Simpsons:

Cecil Terwilliger*

Fat Tony

Frankie the Squealer

Grady*

Jack Lassen

Johnny Tightlips

Julio*

Legs

Louie

Moe Szyslak

Ned Flanders

Otto Mann

Seymour Skinner

Sideshow Bob

Sideshow Mel

Snake Jailbird

Timothy Lovejoy

Waylon Smithers*

What We Do in the Shadows:

Anton (Movie)

Deacon

Guillermo de la Cruz*

Laszlo Cravensworth

Nandor the Relentless

Viago

Vladislav

* Please note that an asterisk (*) means that these characters are Male/Masc/GenderNeutral!Reader only (including non-binary, of course). Platonic relationships with Female!Reader are possible, but no romantic ones.

If it’s a character that is open to all Readers, and you do not specify in your request what you want, I’ll usually opt for a Gender Neutral Reader by default.

SHIPS, such as:

BlackBonnet (OFMD)

SteddyHands (OFMD)

Black Pete x Lucius Spriggs (OFMD)

Buck x Josh Russo (9-1-1)

Dracfield (Renfield 2023)

Buddie (9-1-1)

Eli x Klitz (The Girl Next Door)

Nandermo (WWDITS)

Herbert West x Dan Cain (Re-Animator)

McKirk (Star Trek: AOS)

Oluwande x Jim Jimenez (OFMD)

Barisi (Law & Order SVU) 

Renfield x Teddy Lobo (Renfield 2023)

Sickrent (Trainspotting/T2)

Stobotnik (Sonic Movie)

Tarlos (9-1-1: Lone Star)

AnderPerry (Dead Poets Society)

ZsaszMask (Birds of Prey)

Lastly, I would like to add things I will NOT write (about):

Sexual NSFW fics/headcanons (I used to write those as you can see in my Masterlists, but I have my reasons for not writing them anymore. Any hints at sexual topics are fine).

Anything related to death as the main subject (this includes deadly diseases, anything fatal, really, etc.).

Anything that romanticizes Mental Illness (my Vent Fics about my own disorders obviously do not romanticize any of it and I do not stand for that).

(Recreational) Drug Use

Extreme Possessive Behaviour and/or Jealousy

Yandere

If you have something you would like me to write for, but you do not see it listed anywhere, please ask me before requesting it, so we can talk about it. I hope you enjoy yourself on my blog and have a good time!

My Asks and DMs are always open for any questions or simply to talk!

- Jesse

[always-andromeda]

Potatoes and Molasses || Alex Jones x GN!Reader

Alex Jones x GN!Reader

Word Count || 2,495

Summary || Going out at night and taking candy from strangers isn't exactly Alex's idea of a good time. But baking cookies and watching cartoons with his favorite person? That hits the spot.

Author’s Note || this one literally started with me being like "this guy needs to watch over the garden wall and be fed baked goods" and even though I have such a hard time writing pure fluff with little to no plot, that one thought was enough to birth this. enjoyyyyy.

Warnings || vague descriptions of Alex having trauma, tiny bits of angst, but mostly pure fluff!!

The first fallen leaf of fall leaves Alex anxious. But nothing really scares him. It's just another season, he reasons with himself. Another season that he'll need to get through. He'll smile at children dressed as princesses and superheroes and hand out candy at the door. And he'll try not to think of the teenagers that roam the neighborhood wearing rubber masks of fictional serial killers or plastic contoured to look like a devil's face covering their own. Because he's well aware that people don't need masks to be dangerous. No matter how nervous they make him...they're just kids. Just kids.

He was a kid once. It's hard for him to remember those times but he knows at its core that it's true.

He tries to think of that on Halloween night. Tries to grasp hard onto the end of some fleeting memory. One where the woman who'd raised him--his real mother--had thrown a sheet over him and taken him out. He was just old enough to feel embarrassed having his mother accompany him to a front door. But, otherwise, he wouldn't have gone up in the first place.

His feet stayed firmly planted at the end of the driveway, watching all the other children push past him and receive their sugary treats with no hesitation.

Then there's his mother's soft voice, "Come on, honey. They won't bite." As she held his tiny hand with a loose grasp, Alex wasn't amused at all to find that the man answering the door was dressed as a vampire.

Alex was glad that the ghost costume hid most of his worry. His big green eyes and furrowed brow were the only indication of the fear getting to him. He tried not to look at the fake blood that dripped down from the man's fangs and his shirt.

"Say 'trick or treat', Barry," he felt his mother's hand press into his lower back, urging him further on the doorstep. With the man coming closer, Alex put his brave face on. But the words wouldn't come out. He felt the wall between his words and his mouth grow bigger and bigger as the expectant stare became more and more pervasive. The bricks are thick and no amount of saliva on his dried up tongue could possibly soften the grout keeping everything glued shut.

He willed himself to just say the simple string of words. But they wouldn't come. They never would.

Instead, his mother says them for him and helps him hold out his bright orange candy bucket in the shape of a pumpkin.

"I'm sorry, he's just a little shy." His mother's tone is stern for a few seconds before she softens it again, just for him. "Let's go, sweetheart. We have a lot more houses to hit before the night is over."

That was his first and last proper Halloween before he was taken. Part of him wishes desperately that he had a better memory of it. But, in a strange way, he's mostly grateful for it. Because the people who took him didn't enjoy the holidays; not the way that they should be enjoyed. Having better memories of those times would've just been a slap in the face. No, he concludes, it's better that this time of year fills him with dread. It's better that he stay inside. It's better that he stays quiet this night; trapped in a strange sort of mourning. 

But you don't let the story end that way.

A brand new chapter is marked by more orange pumpkins. Something that he takes as a form of mockery, though he knows that there's no way you'd know about it, let alone inflict that sort of malice upon him. Deep down, he knows you mean well when you urge him to help you stick the Halloween decals on the windows overlooking the front yard.

When he struggles to see the point in the little pictures and asks why you bother, you reply confidently, "The kids like seeing them. It tells them we're a good house." Then your voice lowers and you lean into him. As if you're preparing to tell him a secret, you whisper, "Besides, we can do fun things just for ourselves, right?"

Alex repeats that sentence over and over. The gel decals cling strangely to his fingers as he presses them onto the glass, reaching the taller parts of the window that you can't quite reach.

"We're making a picture that we get to look at every day, so make sure it looks nice." You say. So Alex arranges the nicest picture he can. There's a black cat, a witch, a haunted house, a bubbling cauldron, and a ghost all surrounded by spiders and pumpkins of various shapes and sizes. The one gel cling he avoids is the vampire. You give him a confused look at the remaining figure, alone on the plastic sheet.

You laugh lightly through your nose, "Should I get that one for you, Alex?"

He scrunches up his nose and shakes his head. "I don't want that one in the picture."

Shrugging with your shoulders, you pick up the sheet and take it along with the rest of the plastic packaging to the trash. "Can't argue with that." You conclude. No questions asked. It puts him at ease.

An ease that only sets in deeper as the golden light from the sunset streams through the window. He notices how it filters through in colored fractals that land on the carpet. Vivid purples, greens, oranges, and yellows flood his vision. He swears that he could watch it forever, only limited by time itself as the day grew later.

Eyeing him from across the room, you open up the recipe book on the kitchen counter in front of you. Your hand grazes the worn pages and quickly you find the familiar recipe. Just the illustration of the dessert makes you begin to smile. It's a simple list of ingredients and sparse instructions. Something you're sure you and Alex can tackle easily.

You call him to the kitchen, urging him over to look at the page. Alex sees the picture first: triangles of some sort of pastry covered in zigzags of glossy icing. Then he reads the header of the page: Pumpkin Turnovers with Cinnamon Glaze.

His head raises and he shoots you a quizzical look from behind his large frames. Cooking is still one of those newer things for him. Growing up on a diet of frozen TV dinners and whatever crockpot meals Holly had known how to make had left him close to inept with every appliance aside from the microwave.

Yet he still seems eager, running a tentative fingertip down the list of ingredients. He can't remember the last time he had something with pumpkin in it, but he can barely recall the flavor; something akin to a sweet potato and a dash of bitterness.

There's safety in your movements. You know exactly what you're doing, unwrapping the pre-made sheets of puff pastry and showing him how to cook down the pumpkin puree along with all the spices that nearly make him sneeze. Above all else, you're patient with him. There's no hand at the small of his back, pushing him along. It's comfortable. 

You each spoon little scoops of the pumpkin paste mixture into the center of the pasty squares. He's careful to make sure not to overfill them, not wanting them to be unable to close properly. 

Watching him put about a tablespoon in each, you chuckle a bit and lean closer to him. "You know you can put more in there, right? We want them bursting with the pumpkin."

Bursting. That's something else he repeats to himself. It's a word that takes a bit to warm up to him, but he likes it nonetheless. It's rich and indulgent and descriptive. It's a word that makes him want to be a little bit selfish. So he doubles up on the filling and by the end, he sticks the spoon in his mouth, completely cleaning the mixture off of the end.

It's just as good as he remembers it tasting; probably even better. And you just laugh. You laugh with him instead of at him, pointing out the little bit of pumpkin that managed to miss his mouth on the little journey.

Alex swipes the fallen bit of  pumpkin from off of his chin and licks the glob off of his fingertip. He smiles, "That...is really good."

"It better be," you snort, "Because we're gonna have two dozen of these that we'll need to get through in the next week. I doubt we're going to have trouble with that, though."

Taking a step back, Alex admires yours and his handy work: two sheet pans lined with parchment paper, each holding a dozen pouches of autumnal bliss. Off to the side was a bowl of the glaze that would eventually be drizzled over the top of the golden pastries.

You stick one of the pans into the preheated oven and set the timer for fifteen minutes.

"How about we turn on something to watch while those cook? When the timer goes off you can go switch the pans out, yeah" You ask, staring at him expectantly. Alex gives you a firm, confident nod before letting you pass by him, heading to the living room.

You and Alex watch plenty of shows that are supposedly meant for children. For you, it's usually a wave of nostalgia and for Alex, it's usually an introduction to some new cartoon. This time is no different, yet, it's special. You carried lots of little seasonal traditions with you and somehow, Alex had always managed to miss out on this one: your yearly rewatch of Over the Garden Wall.

It feels different than most "kids shows" you've ever seen. Maybe because in a landscape of low budget CGI, lighting fast jump cuts, and mind numbingly boring storylines, this one embraces its artistry. All you can hope as you turn on the first episode is that Alex can find the same warmth and coziness in the tale of two brothers.

You watch his expression every few seconds, both excited and nervous to see his reaction at certain bits. In his own way, Alex can be a little animated, making dramatic faces that always delight you. When most people grow up, some part of them stifles those behaviors. Folks get older and for some reason, they decide they're too good for pure, unadulterated, happiness that overtakes their entire being. But not Alex.

That's one thing you love most about him, when he feels something, he feels it in its entirety.

Beep, beep, beep

The timer rudely blares, yet you're the only one who seems to notice it.

With his eyes practically glued to the screen in concentration, you don't have the heart to break it. It's rare to see him take to a piece of media so quickly and you wish it would happen more. It makes you happier than anything seeing him having moments like this. You've noticed how much more open he seems when his mind latches onto something of comfort.

Besides, Alex doesn't even notice you getting up to go check on the pastries before the timer goes off. You decide they need a few more minutes. You spend those minutes watching the back of Alex's head as he sits on the living room couch, neck slightly craned forward to he's closer to the television screen. 

"So, let's small talk. My name's Greg. What's yours?"

"Beatrice."

"My brother's name is Wirt..."

"Who cares."

You swear you hear Alex laugh a little at the exchange between the eccentric young boy and the curt bluebird. It's not terribly funny, but the fact that Alex laughed at it makes you sniff slightly. Once the first batch is ready, you switch the pans around and reason with yourself that it's probably best for you to do the dishes now. You know that the second you sit down with a pumpkin turnover, there's a good chance you're not getting up again.

You look forward to having the night in. As much as you love handing out candy and counting up how many children come to the door in superhero costumes versus princess costumes, you have always had a hard time ignoring Alex's quiet hesitation. Holidays can be hard for him, you're well aware.

They're usually reminders and triggers of other little events, ones that you're sure he does his best to leave behind in the comfort of his therapists' office. 

You try not to pry or pick at him. And you try to understand how some things might not come as easy to him. Yet, something about that is fulfilling to experience with him. Removing the heartbreak that you feel when you realize why he's so clueless to so many things, it's pure joy that runs through your heart. You love getting to watch his eyes light up when he discovers a new favorite. Whenever he tries something new. Hell, anytime he conquers a fear that you worried he'd never get over. You let him push himself, because at the end of the day, you know he can.

But as much as you like those moments, you like these too. You like the sound of him humming to himself when you call him out into the kitchen. You're absolutely sure he'd be more upset with you digging into the dessert without him over having him pause the show.

Right off the bat, you know he'll be repeating the song he heard in the show for days, maybe even weeks, to come.

Through a mouthful of flaky pastry, you ask, "Hey, what were you humming a minute ago?" There's a smile trapped in the corner of your lips; you know full well what the song was, but you wouldn't miss the chance to hear him sing it.

Through a mouthful of dessert, Alex sings in his enthusiastic, lilting voice:

“Oh, potatoes and molasses

If you want some, oh, just ask us

They're warm and soft like puppies and socks

Filled with cream and candy rocks!”

And by the time he finishes with the first verse, you join along, not caring about how you sound.

“Oh, potatoes and molasses

It's the only thing left on your task list

They're short and stout, they make everyone shout

For potatoes and molasses.” It's at this moment where Alex decides he can tolerate the holidays. As long as there are freshly baked desserts, cartoons, warm blankets, crooked smiles at little jokes, and off key voices to sing silly songs, he can be happy. No bloody vampire on the window or forceful hand at his back can shake him; for that hand has morphed into yours, handing him one more pocket of golden pastry, bursting with sugar and spice as you urge him back to the living room to finish the show.

[creepling]

looking for keller - reader x alex jones (platonic)

synopsis: the reader has a vengeful spirit towards keller for what he did to barry. reader visits barry at the hospital and begins to have a change of heart.

word count: 945

cw: cursing, descriptive injury, angst

I don't know why I showed up at the hospital. It wasn't wise of me; they were just kids. They had nothing to do with this. But that shithead hasn't been seen in over a month. The motherfucker disappeared overnight. The detective might've been finished, and the family may have been at peace, but I was not. Alex lay in his hospital bed, suffering swelling, first-degree burns, severe blood loss; you name it. He was on the brink of death, and for what? Being a victim? Some guy decided almost to kill him because he didn't know the whole story, and I'm not letting that slide.

"What are you doing here?" Detective Loki spotted me in the waiting room.

I got up from the seat and approached him. He took a few steps back. The anger must have been showing in my face, oozing out of my glare.

"Have you heard anything about Keller?"

"Come on. The case is over. Barry is safe now," Loki said.

"Really? You call Barry's condition safe? He'll be more traumatised now than the time he spent with those freaks," I raised my voice, "He was gonna fucking die!"

"Well, he ain't dead, is he?" Loki snapped, immediately recoiling back. I could have killed him on the spot. I really could.

"Look... We're looking for Keller, okay? His wife filed a missing person's report, and once he's found, he'll have to go into questioning. And my bet is he will be convicted of charges due to the evidence we have piled up. He'll get what's coming to him," Loki assured.

Keller never realised he started a chain of vengefulness with his actions. He beat up Barry to find his daughter. Now I was going to get him for hurting him. Wherever he is, I'll find him. He could be right under our noses for all we knew.

"I trust you'll do your job well, Detective," I said, stepping further away until I was leaving. Loki only made eye contact once I turned a corner down the hall.

Alex was stirring in his bed when I arrived. He was in another hospital on the other side of town. Mrs Milland sat by his side, a melancholic look on her tired face. When she was reunited with her son, I found it challenging to explain my connection with him. He was like a brother to me. I tried my best to protect him. She never blamed me for what happened to him. She said, "We can't all play God." But I blamed myself. I should've been there for him.

"Do you want a moment alone with him? I'll go get us some food," Mrs Milland said, patting my shoulder on the way out.

"Barry?" I called. I approached him by his bedside, taking his hand into mine. My touch made his eyes flutter open to the best of his ability. They were still swollen, and he found it hard to see. He knew who I was from my voice, flexing his soft grip on my hand.

The sight of him was hard to witness. My eyes grew warm, and tears began to drip down my cheeks. I quickly wiped them away, taking a big inhale of air, trying to hold them back. My jaw quivered, and I squeezed my eyes shut. Before I realised it, I was crying in Alex's arms.

"I'm so sorry . . ." I sobbed, "I'm sorry, Barry. I tried to find you, I . . . had to find you,"

Alex was too weak to comfort me. I didn't expect him to do anything. How selfish of me to cry when he was in this situation. If I found him, saved him, killed the son of a bitch that hurt him, he would not be broken. I sniffed back my tears; my eyes glared at the mid-air.

"I'll kill him. I'll kill that fucker for what he did to you," I muttered, my voice like venom.

Alex began to open his mouth, struggling to speak. I leaned in closer so I could hear him. His vocal cords croaked. I was there patiently.

"Don't . . . Hurt . . . Anyone,"

I extend my head back, studying his face. His grip on my hand tightened, but his thumb soothingly stroked my fingers.

"He . . . Needs . . . Child,"

I put the pieces together in his speech. Don't hurt anyone. Keller needs his child. Does he mean I shouldn't hurt him so he can be with his kid?

"Barry, he hurt you. He nearly killed you. I- I can't let that slide,"

I saw a glint through his swollen slits as I stared into his eyes. He shook his head as gently as he mustered and stroked my hand.

"Let go," He muttered. Talking began to drain his energy. He rested his head deeper into the pillow, closing his eyes completely. I sat there for a moment, pondering his words. Tears fell from my eyes again, but I was too deep in thought to sob. He didn't want me to hurt Keller. He practically begged me not to. He used the little energy he had to tell me that.

"As you wish," I whispered, planting a small kiss on his forehead.

That night I stayed by his side. I never let go of his hand. I planned to hunt for Keller that night. I even had the weapons to equip me in the back of my trunk. Instead, I did what Barry wished. I let go. Of my anger, my rage, my thirst for revenge. Instead, I stood by his side because I would never let go of him.

[elliebean714]

Friendship Bracelets

Alex Jones/Barry Milland x GN!Reader (Platonic)

Fluffy fluff fluff

Pt1

Summary~ You Two Make Friendship Bracelets together, Pretty Self Explanatory.

A/N~ This is bad cus I'm tired please don't read this💀I want nothing more than to have this sweet baby angel smile and be happy and safe forever. I just want this precious baby boy to have fun doing arts and crafts and playing with his car toys until the end of time. I just want him to be happy 😭

You had been Alex's assigned live in carer for around nine months now. He was extremely hesitant to get to know you at first, but slowly, over time, he began to trust you. You were always gentle and patient with him, making him feel safe and protected. You kept your voice calm and steady whenever you were around him, never made any sudden movements or touched him without warning. No-one had ever treated him with kindness before, for once, he felt like he had a friend.

You had always had a special talent for jewellery making. Frequently trying new techniques and experimenting with new materials and patterns, consistently wearing your favourite pieces. You always noticed Alex fixating on the necklaces, Rings and bracelets you wore. Every time you did, you'd see a curious look in his eye, like he wanted to learn your skills but didn't know how to ask. To help him feel included, you had a kid friendly jewellery set ready for him. His face brightened slightly as you showed him, helping you clear the coffee table to have more space to work with.

The jewellery set was placed in the middle of the wooden coffee table, Alex was on his knees, threading colourful plastic beads through a thin piece of string, tongue poking out, looking focused, you were working on your own bracelet, though not as intensely. Every so often you would throw Alex a glance to see if he needed help, most of the time, Alex was alright, working slowly and quietly on his masterpiece. Once you reached the middle of your bracelet, you looked at the cute charms that were included, small plastic rainbows, animals, hearts and other childish designs looked back at you.

Your eyes landed upon the purple and yellow BFF charms, a small smile gracing your face as you went to pick them up. Your movement attracted Alex's attention as he looked up to see what you were doing, you showed him the charms, explaining "These are charms that you can put on your bracelet, if you'd like, these ones say that we'll be best friends forever, but if you don't want those there's many more you can chose from." You offered, showcasing all the charms, "You can have more than one if you want." He gently picked up the purple BFF charm, a cute bunny charm, a rainbow charm and a glittery, golden star, mumbled a thank you, and began working again, adding the charms whenever he wanted. You carefully threaded the yellow BFF charm onto your bracelet and continued working on your piece.

Once you were both finished, you tested your fist to ensure you could comfortably get it on and off, it fit perfectly as you knew your wrist size well. You could see Alex trying to replicate your action but not knowing why or what he was looking for. You offered help, which he accepted, and warned him that you were going to touch him slightly, he nodded at your warning and prepared himself as you gently performed your wrist-and-fist test, it fit. Pulling the piece of jewellery off of him to carefully tie a knot between the beginning and end, tightening it so that it would have a very hard time becoming undone. "Now we'll be best friends?" He asks you softly, you nod and smile, tying your own knot so that you both had completed bracelets, "Forever." You smiled.

Once again I know this is bad, deal with it.

Pt2

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~Elliebean714

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[iamafalseprophet]

nothing’s gonna hurt you baby · alex jones/barry milland x reader

a/n: this is platonic only, don’t worry, i’m well aware alex has the mental capacity of a child. don’t be weird with him, i’m writing this fic because i want him to just be happy and safe :,) i’m gonna refer to alex as barry in this since that’s what he goes by after being found, his birth name. also it’s almost 5am and i did not proofread im tired sorry

summary: during the aftermath of the kidnapping case, you take care of alex/barry for the night.

warnings/notes: mentions of past trauma/abuse/kidnapping, comfort mostly, gender neutral reader, platonic relationship, past childhood friends, reader takes care of him

word count: 2,100

ao3 link

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“Are you leaving soon?… I’ll be over, I’m on my way now… Okay, bye.”

You hung up your phone, grabbing your keys and pulling on a jacket as you filed out of the door of your apartment and into your car. It was early January now, and it’s been about a month since Barry Milland had been found living as Alex Jones with an abductor posing as his aunt. You two were friends many years ago in childhood growing up together, and though it was awhile ago, you still missed him. While you were overjoyed that he’d finally been found, you nearly broke down upon hearing what torture he went through for a week.

You were driving right now to where he was staying, with his actual family. They had to travel out of state and couldn’t bring Barry with, and had entrusted you to care for him. You had reunited with Barry a few times since he’d been found, and he had remembered you at least a little bit from when you were kids. You were happy to be caring for him.

It wasn’t too long of a drive. You pulled into the driveway, knocking on the front door where you were met with Barry’s parents. “Thank you so much for coming to do this. Oh, he’s in his room right now,” his mother said to you, both parents with coats on ready to go. You smiled at them, nodding. “Of course, I’m here anytime. We’ll have fun today, you guys don’t have to worry about anything.” You reassured, before the Millands exited their home once they’d gathered their bags, leaving you to call out something along the lines of ‘have a safe trip’.

You unzipped your thick jacket, laying it on the back of a recliner. Once you’d gotten your shoes off too, you made your way to Barry’s room, knocking lightly in hopes to not startle him. “Hey, It’s just me. We’re gonna be hanging out for a little.” You prompted first, seeing Barry watching cartoons on a TV he had in his room. He almost smiled a little first seeing you. “Whatcha doing?” You hummed, walking a little closer and asking first, “Can I sit down?” He waited for a moment, then nodded, to which you then sat down near him.

Barry still wasn’t super verbal yet, healing from what had happened to him in the past months, let alone past couple decades. Though, he didn’t seem to be entirely untrusting of you, seeing as you knew each other once before & his parents trusted you. Barry pointed to the TV, which had Courage the Cowardly Dog playing. He looked at you for a moment, then speaking softly, “Watch it with me?”Your lips curved upward into a smile, and you nodded back. “Sure. We can do whatever we want in the house today, okay?” You told him, and you could’ve sworn you saw his eyes light up right then. Barry needed a friend again, and he had one.

After watching cartoons for around an hour, you heard a growling noise coming from Barry’s stomach, making you sit up a bit. “Do you want me to make some food?” You asked, him replying with a “Yeah.” It was probably time to eat dinner now anyway, almost six. You pulled yourself up. “Okay, c’mon.” You said, getting up from the bed, Barry closely following behind.

The two of you made your way to the kitchen, looking through what was there to make. “What do you want to eat?” You had asked him, awaiting a response. Barry thought for a moment, fixing his glasses that slid down the bridge of his nose. “Can I have a grilled cheese?” He asked, a nod coming from you. “Mmhm. Do you want to help with it or no?” Barry hummed back in response, grabbing the loaf of bread there. “Thank you.” You murmured cheerfully. He went in the fridge, getting cheese as well. “Could you grab the butter too, please?” You said, and he happily followed your request.

The grilled cheeses were nearly done, and they hadn’t really taken long. It was simple enough to where you didn’t mess it up. As you slid two sandwiches onto a plate, you felt a tap on your shoulder which prompted you to turn around. Barry held a box of cookie mix, shaking it inquisitively. “You want to make cookies?” He nodded. You smiled at the boy. “Okay, but you gotta eat dinner before anything sweet. Your food’s done.” You told him, exchanging the cookie mix for the plate, Barry walking to the dining table to sit down as you began to get out the supplies for cookies.

After a little while, Barry had finished his food and you both returned to watching cartoons when the cookies were put in the oven. The house was filled with a the sweet scent of them baking, which was comforting for the both of you at least. Barry showed you a couple of hot wheels he had, shyly asking if you’d play with him. You held a small red car in your hand, tracing over the bed with in and around Barry, which made him laugh a little bit, making your heart swell. It was really nice to see him at least a little happy.

“Are you having fun?” You asked him, a smile hesitantly forming on Barry’s lips. “Mmhm.” He said, shaking his head ‘yes’ slightly. At that, a ding from the timer you had set was heard in the kitchen, causing you to jump up slightly, gently grabbing Barry’s hand. “The cookies are done,” You entered the kitchen once again, carefully removing the tray with an oven mitt Barry found for you. “Wait for them to cool a minute.” You warned, then soon handing him a chocolate chip cookie. He stood there for a moment, and you wondered why you could see his lip tremble. He gave you a sort of sad look.

“Barry? What’s wrong, did I do something?” You felt worried, not anticipating this. He shook his head no, slowly stepping toward you and sort of reluctantly wrapping his arms around you in a hug. It seems like he’d been really happy to actually have a friend, have someone to play with and laugh with again after being in pain for so long. He was confused as to why you were so nice. While hoping you hadn’t overwhelmed him, you heard him sniffle, and it occurred to you that you’d just been standing there thinking. At that thought you quickly hugged him back, resting your head on his shoulder as you did so.

“Am I safe?”

His voice cracked, and you replied in a soft tone, your eyes shut, after a couple moments. “Yes, you’re safe, I promise. Nothing’s gonna hurt you.” You swore, standing there in the kitchen in a hug with him for awhile. After a little bit, he sniffed and you both pulled away, you putting your thumb up to his face to wipe away a rolling tear.

“It’s okay, Barry. Now come on, look what’s here for you.” You said sweetly, mentioning the cookies to which he picked one up, you doing the same. You lightly pulled him over to the couch with the plate of cookies, offering him the remote to pick a movie with. With your previous hug, he found himself a little more comfortable with being close. You sat shoulder to shoulder on the couch, sharing a blanket and cookies. He had picked something to watch, and you happily sat there to watch it with him. And another after that.

Once you both were noticeably feeling a little tired. You started to get up, a small hum of protest coming from Barry as he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. He was fine right there, really. “Do you have to take a bath?” You asked, a nod coming from him. Showers had still frightened him since his torture, so he really preferred baths (which you’d been told).

He stood up with you, making his way to the bathroom next to his room hesitantly. “I can help you wash your hair and back, if you want me to. What do you think?” His parents said that he could do it by himself, but it was more of a comfort thing due to his recent fear. Barry stood there for a moment, then gently spoke. “Um, yeah.” He said it sheepishly, as you scooted past him to turn the water on for the bath. “Feel it first to see how you like it, okay?” You spoke, moving his hand under the water slowly. “Colder,” he said, and you nodded turning the handle to the right slightly.

“Get in, and then tell me when to come in, alright?” You spoke to him with care, trying to reflect that so that he’d feel safe and not have to worry about anything. You stepped outside of the room for a minute as he undressed and got in, soon hearing a soft ‘okay’ from behind the door. You entered to see bubbles filled the tub, toy cars lining the edge of it. A small smile formed back onto your lips. You gently took off Barry’s glasses and set them on the sink counter.

“The water is fine?” “Yeah.”

You wet his hair, dark brown and sort of long in length. You squeezed out some shampoo on your hands, watermelon scented. Your hands entangled into Barry’s hair, lathering the shampoo over and over. “Okay, tilt back.” You murmured, and he followed, looking up and staying still as he held one of his toy cars in his hand. A cup of water washed out the shampoo as you held your hand beneath Barry’s chin to keep it in place. Some soap on your hands again, he was turned slightly and you began washing his back. Barry seemed be enjoying just sitting there for now, or at least he was content.

When you both were all done, you drained the bathtub of its water and gave Barry a towel when he stood. He was still as he stepped out and you dried his hair for a little with a thinner towel. “Good job,” you praised him, aware of his aforementioned fear. He did well. A small smile came from him, and you placed his glasses back into his hands.

Barry headed back into his room, putting on a long-sleeve shirt and pajama pants to sleep in. At this point with you here, he didn’t necessarily want to be alone, but you mentioned you’d just be outside the door on the couch. He grudgingly got into bed, a small hug exchanged between the two of you, quick progress. You kept a nightlight on in there, cracking Barry’s door as he fell asleep.

You yawned, walking out of his room and onto the sofa where you all had watched movies before. Running a hand through your hair, you laid down and pulled a blanket over yourself, tired yourself. A lamp was left on, but before you knew it your eyes were closed.

As quick as you fell asleep, you woke up to sounds of sobbing. Barry was sitting on the couch, at your feet, not knowing what to do. Hazily, you sat up and became aware of what was happening. You frowned, looking at Barry and moving a bit closer to comfort him. “What happened?” You murmured, looking in his green eyes. Tears were on his cheeks and he was sniffling. You wiped them away again, pulling him up off the couch gently and going back to his room. You’d stay there this time.

“I was there, there again.” He sniffed.

It was a nightmare, then. Barry spoke through soft sobs, you leading him to lay back down, there beside him. “It’s okay,” you reassured as he was crying into the crook of your neck now. You wrapped your arms around him comfortingly, rubbing his back slightly in attempt to calm him. “I’m right here, Barry. You’re safe. All of that is over, okay?” You spoke. He hummed in response. You said more calming things gently into his ear, his sniffles slowly dying down as he fell back asleep into your arms.

You let out a small sigh, not out of irritation, but gratefulness. Grateful Barry was here right now with you, that you were able to calm him down, and that those people who had kidnapped him before are both gone. You shut your eyes, breathing slower.

You were always going to be here for him, your friend.

[writing-fanics]

. Alex Jones/ Barry Milland . Fic ideas

> warning: mentions of kidnapping : torture <

a/n: some are hinted relationships and others are feelings unsaid or just straight up platonic. I’ll label them in brackets. I know this character played by Dano, deals heavily with an intellectual disability. So nothing explicit will be happening in any of my stories.

.Nightmare. (Hinted relationship)

.summary: Alex awakes screaming in bed after having a nightmare, luckily y/n is there to comfort him.

Hot Coca (platonic relationship) will do hinted if asked

.summary: on a cold winters night y/n makes hot coca.

.if you don’t do something, I will!. (hinted relationship/ will do platonic version)

.summary: days after Alex’s disappearance the police aren’t any help, since he’s a grown up. So y/n takes finding him into their own hands.

[det-loki]

poison & wine part four

And you will destroy anyone who would try to harm her

But what happens when karma turns right around to bite you?  

warnings: angst, cursing

pairing: detective loki x fem reader

word count: 3,000

A/N: I don't know why I struggled with this chapter so much but I did. I finally got it to a place that makes me happy though. Again, feedback is welcomed. Enjoy! 💕

1  2  3   ⌽  5  6 

You woke up feeling like death. Your brain was pounding against your skull, eyes sore, body aching, screaming for you to rest. You had no time to rest though. You sprawl your arm, reaching to the opposite side of the bed to hopefully find Loki but to no surprise, it was already vacant and cold. You rolled over to the bedside table, glancing at the clock, 5:46 A.M. You've got to be fucking kidding me. 

You stumbled blindly into the kitchen, your feet still heavy with sleep. Every step you took, your body screamed at you to lay back down, stars floating across your vision. You found David sitting at the kitchen table in his work clothes, sitting in silence, rigid. As you walked closer, you took notice of what was in his hands. A photo album. 

You almost collapsed on the spot, knees wanting to give out on you, your breath catching on your throat as you inhale sharply. Tears prick your eyes and your lip quivers as you step closer to David and the photo album. 

Reaching David, you lay a shaking hand on his shoulder, not daring to peer at whatever photo he was looking at. You knew which photo album it was, the bright pink making your brain foggy, the album stood out like a sore thumb in the minimal gray of the kitchen. You knew if you saw any of the pictures you wouldn't be able to get out of bed for a month. David jumps slightly at your touch, snapping the album closed, a hand coming up to wipe away tears that had fallen down his face. 

You moved from standing behind him to sit next to him, your hands finding each other as you sat down in the wooden chair, your body sighing in relief at the position.

"What are you doing, Loke?" Your voice came out as a rasp, crackling and chipping, sounding like sandpaper, disturbing the silence in the kitchen. Your voice sounded as broken as you felt.

"I needed to see her. Remember what we're fighting for. I-I was starting to lose her, her- I was starting to forget what she looked like. What kind of father is that, huh? What kind of father does that make me?" Loki's voice was rough with emotion, each word was a knife through your heart. He was the best father to your little girl, she had him wrapped around her finger since the day she was born. He was soft and tender with her, terrified of breaking her. After finding out you were pregnant, Loki went on a spiral of how he couldn't be a father, he didn’t know how. His childhood was nowhere near ideal, in and out of foster homes and juvenile detentions, his parents a figment of his imagination. He said he couldn’t be good and decent, claiming he was broken and corrupt. The first ultrasound appointment snapped him out of it, tears welled up in his eyes as the sound of your baby's heartbeat filled the room, his hand intertwined tightly with yours.  There wasn’t a thing in the world  he wouldn’t do for her, the line didn’t exist. You knew somewhere in that photo album there was a picture of him with a pink crown on his head as your little girl was in his arms laughing. The memory caused a fresh wave of pain to hit you. 

"That makes you a grieving father who is in pain, Loki. Don't- please don't do this to yourself. She wouldn't want that for you. Or for either of us." The last thing you wanted was for David to fall down the spiraling hole of self-hatred. You could barely keep your head above water and you didn’t want him to drown with you. He deserved better.

"I know. I know. I just miss her. So fucking much, Y/N." David’s voice broke, crackling like static on a radio. 

"I know." There was nothing else to say, your brain was a jumbled mess, thoughts not making sense. You knew. 

"I went to her grave last week. I wasn't planning on it, I just ended up there. I'm sorry for not telling you, but it felt like something I needed to do alone. And then this fucking case, it doesn't feel real, it can't be a coincidence. It's like the universe knew." His words didn’t upset you, if anything it made you happy, he hadn’t visited her in a long time, he just wasn’t ready and you didn’t want to force him. You visited her regularly, in hopes to apologize or make things right, you didn’t know. The fact that he went made your heart warm temporarily, the cold would creep back in again eventually. 

"David, I'm not mad at you for visiting our daughter. I think that's good. I just- this case is eating us alive. We have to make it out of this alive, promise me we will." You needed to hear it, your ears, and heart desperate for a lifeline. Desperate for a life to come back to after this case ended. If it ever did.

“We will. I promise you we will.” David brought your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it, brushing over the small black ink of a snake on your middle finger. You hoped he was right.

Hours later, you sat at your desk reading over the autopsy report of the man found in the priest’s basement. Nothing. Your phone rang loudly in front of you. It was David. You pick it up, nestling it between your ear and shoulder as you reread the report.

“Hey, I’m out here at a house on Fairmount Circle, the house the RV was parked in front of. It’s only been on the market a couple of months. I’m gonna track the owners down, see if they know anything. You got any new info on that corpse we found in the priest’s basement?”

You sighed into the phone, “No DNA, dental or fingerprint matches.”

“Nothing.” David replied in a monotonous tone, sounding fine, a stark difference than he was this morning. He was compartmentalizing, a little too well. You hated it when he did that.

“Priest is sticking to the story, too.” You had gotten report from a fellow detective who took the case, informing you about the priest’s questioning. 

Loki scoffed into the phone, frustrated, “All right.” 

You look up from your computer to see David walk into the station, walking to his desk opposite from yours. He sat down and immediately started typing. A few minutes pass before he looks over, eyes finding your hunched form, “Come here.”

You rose from your desk, your vision exploding with stars as you made your way over, leaving over his shoulder to read whatever he had been looking at. 

The headline read: “Conyers Boy Disappears��� dated August 31st, 1987. Barry Milland, age seven when he went missing from his family home.

David spoke below you, “ Let’s go.” You already knew where you were going, to contact the mother of still missing Barry. 

You stood in the living room of Mrs. Milland’s home, Loki next to you as she sat in a recliner in front of a TV playing an old home video of Barry. Your fingers dug into your thigh and Loki’s hand was clamped over his mouth, the universe was playing with you, the tape that was playing was mocking the both of you, teasing you for the fact that you have done the very same thing as she was doing now, clutching onto the last good memories. 

“Same person who took him took those girls. I’m sure of it.” Mrs. Milland’s voice shook with age as she spoke, eyes never leaving the screen.

The tape temporarily faltered, screen going static before returning to normal, “Wearing out the tape, I guess. I watch it every day after breakfast. It’s the only video I have of him.” She sighs before continuing, “It was before your time. 26 years ago, August 19th. I took a nap in the afternoon, and when I woke up Barry was gone. No one could ever tell me what happened to him. He was playing in the front yard, just a few feet from where they sat that RV was parked.”

God, you wanted to scream. Playing in the front yard and then gone. You were familiar with the pain and shame in her voice, you felt the very same thing every single day. 

She speaks again, ripping you away from your thoughts, “What do you think that means?” 

Loki raised his eyebrows, shaking his head as he looked at the carpeted ground, “I’m more interested in what you think that means.” 

She shook her head, eyes still trained on the screen, “I don’t think we’ll ever know. It’s just like Barry. No one took them. Nothing happened. They’re just gone.” 

You bit your lip so hard you tasted blood, fingers digging harder into the jean covered flesh of your thigh. Gone.

You and Loki sat in the car silently, digesting what you had been told by Mrs. Milland. 

"Why are we doing this, David?" You weren’t referring to where you were, rather than what you were. How you got to this point in your life, why?

"What? Here?” David looked at you, confused.

"No. This. This job. This case. Is it to avenge her? Justice? Bring peace to other families like we couldn't have? I love my job, don't get me wrong, but I can't but help but question why is it this case? Why us?” You looked out the car window as you spoke, not catching David’s gaze.

"I don't know. I don't know, but we will get through this. I'm here, Y/N.” There was never a moment David wasn’t there for you, and vice-versa. You both knew each other better than you knew yourselves, able to take care of each other better than you could take care of yourself.

Loki’s phone buzzing in the cup holder made you jump, the bubble that had formed popping, David grabbing for the phone, reading whatever text he had been sent, “We might have something with the priest.”

You stood in the hallway, awaiting Detective Chemelinski to escort you to the priest’s interrogation room as David shifted his weight nervously. The fellow detective showed up, motioning for David to follow. Loki looked at you with mild panic in his eyes, silently pleading for you to follow. He didn’t want to face the priest alone. The memories would be too toxic for him to face without you. You nodded your head reassuringly, following David and Detective Chemelinski into the interrogation room Father Patrick Dunn was being held in. 

Loki walked in first, you next, and Chemelinski last. You leaned against the wall as Loki greeted Dunn, “How you doin’, Father?” 

“I’m...I’m- getting better.” Father Dunn avoided eye contact with everyone, eyes set on the table in front of him.

Loki sat across from him, “So Detective Chemelinski tells me that you have some specifics about the crime you claim that guy committed. The abductor.”

The priest nodded, “He was...waging a war against God.”

Loki chuckled, looking over at Chemelinski in disbelief and shaking his head, “Great. That’s great. I thought you said he had something specific.” Loki continued to shake his head, stammering at the other detective and gesturing in disbelief in front of him with his hands. 

Detective Chemelinski looked at Father Dunn, “Tell him how he took the kids.” If it wasn’t for David wanting you in the room, you would have avoided the conversation, rather having the information relayed than point-blank. This was too raw, images of Loki in the boy’s home feeling like a white hot poker in your brain.

“He said...he took them in the daylight.” You swore you were going to pass out, your hands beginning to tremble at your sides. You wished you were stronger, able to do your job without feeling like you were going to die from the constant resurfacing of horrific memories of your little girl. Broad daylight. Screaming.  

Why were you doing this?

The priest continued, “Sometimes...more than one child at a time.”

Loki rolled his eyes, “He said that?” The priest nodded. “-Did he say he was with anybody? He did it alone?”

“He...he said he had a family.” 

Loki sighed, “That’s it?” The priest nodded again. Loki stood from the chair, shaking his head at Detective Chemelinski, “All right.” He walked to the door, tattooed hand on the handle, glaring at the detective, “Informative.” He walked out, leaving you to briefly apologize to Chemelinski before you ran to find David. 

You found him in the locker room, sitting on the bench with his head in his hands.

You approached him slowly, “Hey, you okay?” It was a stupid question, of course he wasn’t okay. Neither of you were okay. 

He looked up at you with tired eyes, “Yeah, I’m fine. I just needed a minute. The candlelight vigil is tonight if you wanna go.”

“I do. It’d be nice.” He nodded along with your words, you turned around and walked out of the room to give Loki sometime to himself. Sometimes silence could be healing, yet you didn’t think all of the silence in the world could heal these wounds. 

You stood in front of the microwave watching your mug of coffee spin in circles. Coffee was now the main staple of your diet. It was late at the station, you and Loki being the only few still left. The temperature had dropped outside rapidly, leaving a chill in the air. Loki was outside turning the car on so it would be heating up as you poured coffee in a thermos. 

You walked outside with thermos in hand, pulling your coat tighter as the wind bit through your coat. Loki was already inside the vehicle, waiting for you. You opened the passenger door, plopping down as the thermos sat at your feet. 

“You sure you wanna go to this thing?” Loki asked gingerly.

“Yeah. Do you not?” 

“I just don’t want you to feel like you have to. If you’re not up for it we can go home. I don’t want you to push yourself.” Loki spoke softly as not to disturb the ambiance inside the vehicle. 

“I’m okay, David. I promise. It’ll be nice, show our respect, it’s not like we have to stay long.”

David nodded as he put the car in gear, pulling out of the police station parking lot. 

Loki pulled up to the vigil, outside of the Dover’s home. A group of people had already gathered, lighting candles, placing flowers, and teddy bears. 

You and David leaned against the car, watching in sorrow. You saw Franklin Birch double over, sobbing as his family held him. Your heart broke at the sight, you wished nothing more than to bring his daughter back unharmed. Each passing day caused unease to spread further and further in your body, day four setting a new record of turmoil.  

Time passed as people started to leave, the group diminishing slightly. Beside you,  Loki put on a stocking cap and rubbed his hands together for warmth. He still refused to wear gloves.  He abruptly pushed himself off the car, walking closer to the vigil, obviously taking notice of something you didn’t. You walked next to him slowly, unsure of what exactly he was doing. Then you saw it, a man crouched down with his coat hood up, stroking a teddy bear that had been placed, his gloved hand gliding over it in a manner that made you uncomfortable. He looked up, locking eyes with Loki, and then stood up stiffly, Loki’s eyes following every move. The man glanced at you and then turned away. Loki walked closer, trying to trail him as the man continued walking away. You had an inkling that he was going to run, so you turned around towards the car as Loki made his way through the crowd. 

Looking over your shoulder, you saw David take off in a dead sprint. Fuck.

You opened the driver’s side door of the car and sat down, grabbing the radio from the console. 

“Dispatch, this is 13-43, we have a police pursuit on foot, 13-40 is responding.  ”

The radio crackled to life, “10-4 detective, we have patrol rolling your way.”

“10-4” You sat the radio down, now all you had to do was wait for Loki to either come back or for him to call you to come get him.

30 minutes later, Loki came into view, slightly limping. He walked up to the car as you got out of the driver’s seat, “You should have stretched.”

Loki shrugged past you, “Yeah, fuck off. Now get out of my spot.”

You chuckled slightly as you walked around the car and pulled the door open and sat in your designated spot. Loki grabbed for the radio with his non-dominant hand, “Dispatch, this is 13-40. Pursuit has ended, the offender fled. Put a BOLO out, description will be given by an officer.”

Loki sighed heavily as he put the radio down, hand coming up to rub his right shoulder, “What happened, David?”

“The fucker jumped on me from a tree. I’m fine.” You rolled your eyes, Loki could be mauled by a bear and thrown into the ocean and he would still say he was fine. He was even more stubborn than you. 

You got home that night at 2 A.M., going to the station after the vigil for David to write up a media release on the guy that ran and to give a description. You tried to get David to let you look at his shoulder but he refused, claiming he was fine, even when moving it he winced slightly. 

That night you slept restlessly, dreams of hospitals and antiseptic haunting you. Making you question everything.

tag list: @lexie-wayland @whew-oh-em-gee @winterlavenderskysworld @buck-this-nasty @heeyirenee @pinkpunkdynamite

[elliebean714]

It's Only A Movie

Alex Jones/Barry Milland x GN!Reader (Platonic)

Fluff, Some Angst With Comfort

Pt1 Pt2

Summary~ He Gets Spooked Whilst Watching A Movie With You, You Help Him Feel Better

AN~ A friend personally requested this. This for you girl😘 He's so precious omlllll🥺💕💖 i made Alex chubb chubb in this because he absolutely would be. Credit to Drew Gooden for the title name lol. Sorry this is kinda short

Later that night, Alex asked to watch a movie with you. You were happy to oblige, showing him a catalogue of kid friendly movies, he began to look through all the colourful posters and fun names whilst you made popcorn and poured him a glass of apple juice.

"This one." He tells you, his voice barely above a whisper, you put the movie on and place his juice and the popcorn on the coffee table ahead of you both. You know Alex is still wary of any physical touches, you sat beside him, but left a considerable amount of space in between you both so he'd be comfortable.

~~

You look over to Alex every few minutes to make sure he was alright. One time, you see that he's staring at the popcorn bowl hesitantly.

"It's okay, you can have some if you want." You reassure him, he smiles very lightly, mumbles his gratitude before carefully picking up a few pieces. You follow after him, taking less as you know he likes to eat a lot more than you.

~~

When Alex drank all his juice, you left him alone to quickly refill his glass. He still didn't like being in rooms alone, scared of something bad happening, to himself or to you, so you always left the doors open and tried to stay where he could see you.

You carefully placed the glass on the table ahead of him but he was too enthralled in the movie to notice. You smile, glad he's found something that makes him happy.

~~

Around an hour into the movie, a snake like creature appeared on screen, Alex recoiled in fear, whimpering quietly, his breath hitched and tears began welling in his eyes. He slowly moved closer to you, seeking your comfort.

"You okay?" You ask him softly. He shakes his head, you knew the important details of his past, things to avoid, but there were somethings he hadn't told anyone, you guessed snakes were one of them. "Hey, it's alright." You comfort him, before quickly pausing the movie, he continues to shuffle closer to you. "It's over, okay, it's over."

"Sorry." He mumbles, wiping his eyes on his sleeve.

"It's alright Alex, it's okay. Dont worry. Take your time. I'll be right here, let me know if you need anything okay?" You calm him with your gentle voice. He mumbles something unintelligible, beginning to fidget with his fingers. "I'm sorry, can you repeat that please?" You inquire softly, not wanting to pressure him.

"Can we cuddle please?" He asks a bit louder. You nod, opening your arms. He quickly maneuvers himself into the safety of your hold.

You'd be lying if you said his reaction didn't suprise you. Since you had began caring for him, physical touch always upset him, even with a warning, he'd always showed distress when touched. So being asked to cuddle brought you an immense amount of joy, you were so happy he felt safe with you.

"Thank you." You heard him whisper against you. "I'm happy you're my best friend."

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~Elliebean714

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[always-andromeda]

Congratulations on 500!! You earned it! For a request could you do prompt: “The World Ender” for Alex/Barry? There’s a lot of stories where the reader is helping him, but not really anything for the other way around!

Author's Note | this concept is actually so creative?? like wow, anon, I hadn’t actually thought of something like this too much before!! so thank you so much for the request!!

Being roommates with Alex should be simple, in theory. He's used to living small. Minimizing himself until he's barely noticeable. Call it a product of his childhood, but he usually feels the most useful when he's quiet. But he's not sure if he actually enjoys that existence. Or if he'd simply lived it for so long that it was all he knew.

This is why it really isn't easy being his roommate. Having known you for practically half his life, he's well aware of how...spirited...you can be. You live in a way that he's not used to. So far removed from how Holly had raised him to be: broken apart until he fit into any mold the world could throw at him.

He has a hard time expressing it, but in a strange way, he's grateful. Being around such a strong personality brings him out a little more. You don't overwhelm his senses. He's tuned into your energy; how you move, how you breathe, how you speak. He can't say that about many people. And you wouldn't think he'd be so analytical just from looking at him. But that's one good thing the silence gave him; his intuition.

It's how he knows something is wrong when you come through the front door and sit down on the couch. You don't say a single word to him, just stare blankly at the cooking show he'd clicked on when he got home from work.

"What's wrong?" he asks, his tone soft.

Within seconds, your cold demeanor washes away. You head falls to the back of the couch and you close your eyes, letting out a sigh that you wish could flush out your nerves.

"Pullman fired me today." you reply quickly.

Alex's heart drops to his stomach. You'd worked so hard at that job; picking up all the extra hours they gave you in hopes they would see your dedication and reward you in some way. Of course they didn't. In their eyes, you're nothing special. Just another cog in the machine that could easily be plucked and tossed to the side. The world has plenty of other cogs that will fit just fine; thank you.

Alex has always been supportive of you. Every time you vented about the stress, he did his best to listen and to offer comfort where he could. But this was a different hurt that he hadn't felt radiating off of you before. And as he searches through his mind for some way to help, he thinks of the best idea.

Wordlessly, he rises from the couch, leaving you behind only for a moment as he heads to the hallway closet. Flipping on the yellow hall light and scanning over the shelves, he searched for the right blanket. He runs his hand down the stack, feeling each texture until he gets to a large quilt. He distinctly remembers you using it one night when you and him had a movie night a while back. It's perfect.

You hear the sliding glass door leading to the backyard open and close but ignore it. A handful of minutes later you hear it again. And when you open your eyes, Alex stands beside you, nudging your shoulder with a gentle hand. "Come outside." he says simply.

Figuring he must've found another frog outside, you follow. But instead, you find yourself standing on the porch, looking out over the small patch of land that constitutes your background. Right in the center of the lawn, Alex had laid out the blanket perfectly; no wrinkles or folds in the fabric.

As he sits cross-legged on the left side of the blanket, he motions for you to join him.

You take the spot beside him, grateful that the stifling summer air has faded into a comfortable breeze. The lush green grass was all the more comfortable with the blanket placed over the top of it.

"Look," Alex points up towards the endless night sky. "Stars."

"Stars." you conclude. For a little while, your pain blows away as you lay back on the blanket, bringing your hands behind your head. You stare into the void of the universe. And, funnily enough, the memory of Pullman calling you into his office and curtly informing you that you'd been fired...it seemed so meaningless. But in the most comforting way possible. These were the moments that mattered most to your soul; not stupid job and your idiot manager.

"Does this help?" Alex mumbles.

He feels euphoric seeing you smile even a tiny bit as you answer, "Yeah. It does. Thanks, bud."

This quiet isn't the kind of quiet that the world forced him into. This is the kind of quiet that heals. The kind of quiet that makes him feel like he can exist safely and peacefully with someone. That he can be useful in a brand new way.

[littleoddwriter]

Hi so I would like to know if u could write a adorable story with Alex Jones and gender neutral reader where he had a crush on reader and is too shy to confess his feelings for them and the reader is kind of a caretaker after the incident or stuff.its up to u what u do with that but I would love it😊

Crush | Alex Jones/Barry Milland & GenderNeutral!Reader (Platonic; One-Sided Crush)

Hi there! So, as I've stated, I only write platonic stories for Alex/Barry, so I hope what I've done with your request is all right, and you don't mind it too much that it's an open ending and a one-sided crush in this story; and also that it might not be as adorable as you wanted, it just flowed this way and I really tried to make it as fluffy as possible! I'm sorry. <3 Either way, thanks for the request! :')

summary; When the Millands realise that they can't take care of Barry the way he needs it, they hire you as his caretaker. No one expects him to catch feelings for you.

notes; Gender Neutral!Reader; Reader is a Caretaker; Mentions of/Referenced Injuries, like Second-Degree Burns, Head Trauma and Cuts (from the torture he's been put through); Past Trauma; One-Sided Crush.

Once Alex, going by Barry again, reunited with his family, they realised that they weren't exactly equipped to help him out properly with all his needs; especially those caused by his recent injuries. 

All the second degree burns on his body, the head trauma from being beaten and the still-healing scars on his palms were this whole can of worms they didn’t know how to deal with. 

They just couldn't take care of all of that anymore. They had gotten too old themselves, too fragile. His abduction had aged them prematurely already, and now that it has actually been twenty-six years, it was even worse. 

When they realised that they needed some extra help to take care of Barry properly, they decided to look for a caretaker for him. 

Making Barry understand that he needed someone else to take care of him was difficult. He understood it for the most part. He understood that there was a stranger coming to take care of his bandages and to make sure his wounds stayed clean and would heal. But he didn't understand that this person wouldn't replace his parents. 

He was frantic, whining and crying and repeating the words "don't leave me". It broke their hearts. 

______

It was your first day at the Milland household to help them out with their son, Barry. 

You were a little nervous. His reunion with the family had been all over the news. 

You couldn't be sure how he'd react to you at all, and what tasks you'd have that didn't involve his injuries. Everybody was different and trauma like this affected each person differently as well. 

Nonetheless, you were ready to take on this challenge and work with him. As long as you could get through to him enough to have him trust you, it would be all right. 

Barry's parents had filled you in on everything. They had warned you that he was scared and didn't really understand what having a caretaker meant; but you assured them that this wasn't your first rodeo and you would see to it that he wouldn't be so afraid of you anymore. 

Gently rapping your knuckles against his slightly opened door, you called, "Barry? I’m your caretaker, Y/N." 

No response. 

"May I come inside?" 

Still no response. You were about to go back to his parents to ask them about whether or not you could just go in, then. 

But just as you were about to turn and leave, the door opened completely, revealing Barry to you. 

"Oh, hello!" you smiled at him, "I'm Y/N. Your caretaker. May I come in, then?" 

Barry leaned to the side a bit to see his parents in the living area, which was accessible to see at a certain angle from his door frame. Then he took a step back and let you inside with a slight nod. 

"Thank you," you said gently, "Is it okay if I call you Barry? Or would you prefer something else? I could also call you Mr Milland if you wanted me to." 

"Barry, please," he voiced quietly. It was almost a high-pitched whisper. 

Nodding, you continued your questions, "Do you understand what I'm here for? As your caretaker." 

He sat down on his bed, looking at you like a deer in headlights.

"I just want my mom and dad," he whispered. 

"I know." You crouched down in front of him to be on eye level with him. "But they can't take care of you the way you need it. So they asked me to help them out. That's all. Your parents are still here, just down the hall in the living room. They're here if you need them, okay? I'm only here to help." 

Barry looked at you for a long moment. At last, he nodded in understanding, relaxing his shoulders slightly. 

It was a small success already. 

______

A couple of months later, his wounds have mostly healed. Some of his skin was still in the process of it, but overall it had gotten significantly better. His palm was also healed completely by then. And the bruises and cuts on his face, and the concussion were also gone, now. 

Over those months, the two of you worked better and better with each other every single day. By now it all went smoothly. You barely had to say anything anymore when you wanted to change the few bandages that were left on his neck and arms, where the burns were still healing. It had all become quite the routine. 

A week or so later, he’s mostly healed. Physically, at least. Only his neck was still wounded a little bit.

But he had nasty panic attacks, caused by his flashbacks of all the traumatic experiences he’s had to make, which terrified his parents and made them unsure of how to handle him when it was happening. You offered to work on that with him and to get him to see a therapist eventually. He usually calmed down around you so you were pretty confident that a therapist was on the table at some point. 

Additionally to that, you were planning on working with him to complete small daily tasks himself that he hasn’t been able to do because of the injuries.

Throughout your work with him, though, you noticed something. The way that Barry's behaviour around you changed. 

He visibly relaxed when you were in the room. His hands were always balled into tight fists, but when you entered the room, they almost immediately released and he placed his open, relaxed palms on his thighs. It caught your eye once and then you couldn't unsee it whenever you came into his room.

When you touched him to change the last remaining bandages on his neck, he started blushing. Once you thought it might have been in a weird sort of embarrassment he suddenly felt, but that made no sense to you. You couldn't think of a different reason for that reaction, though. And even when you asked him if he was okay, he just quickly shot out a quiet "yes" and looked away from you, averting his gaze until you were done. 

Those new reactions made you wonder. After all, you’ve been doing this two to three times a day for about thirteen weeks at that point. He was used to it, and he’s certainly not reacted this way until a couple of weeks ago. You wondered what changed. 

______

Every day, you thought it became more and more apparent that there was this significant change in his behaviour around you. And you didn’t think it was a helpful one, either. He often shied away from you now, seeming embarrassed, but with a tiny smile on his lips and a light blush high on his cheeks. 

Whenever he drew something for you it had hearts all over the sheet, which was sweet, but it didn’t help your confusion. 

And when you did his daily tasks with him, teaching him to do them by himself again, you often guided him with your hands on his because it helped him if he was practically doing it already. He always had the strongest reaction, then. He was trembling and his face was completely red and he wouldn’t look you in the eye whatsoever.

All your agonised questioning of what you could have possibly done to cause such a reaction lately was answered when Barry has drawn his newest piece for you. 

He had used a canvas this time, advancing on his skill level, as he painted something with finger paints, acrylics and markers, rather than crayons and coloured pencils. 

Apparently, he dedicated his first painting to you.

You looked it over. It was a pink cartoon heart that filled most of the canvas. Inside were two figures, which looked a lot like you and him, holding hands.

With a soft gasp, you realised what could have been going on recently. 

Barry might have had a crush on you.

“This is beautiful, Barry. Thank you,” you told him honestly with a big smile, which was a little strained with how nervous this realisation made you.

He was your patient. Not only that, but you didn’t see him that way, and you wondered if he would ever try to tell you about his crush. If he did, you would have to let him down easy, which could ruin his trust that he’s built with you. And that could mean a major set-back, if it also didn’t cause you to have to move on to another patient, then.

You stopped your doubts for a second when he beamed brightly at you with a blush on his cheeks and ears, turning them bright pink.

“That’s us. In the heart,” he said softly, shyly bowing his head to avert his gaze.

“I thought it looked that way. That’s really sweet, Barry,” you responded kindly.

He nodded and made a soft sound in the back of his throat. 

It made your heart swell. Barry was such a kind man. After all the terrible things he’d been put through, you wouldn’t have been at all surprised if he despised every other human but his parents, if he didn’t trust anybody, if he locked himself away. But he sought people’s contact, once he knew them, and he was so lovely. 

Sometimes he made himself out to be more helpless than he really was, but only if he felt scared or uncertain, looking to be taken care of. Most of the time, though, he just wanted to spend time with people he liked.

He was a good man. He deserved to find love someday, to be able to live the life he wanted to with somebody he loved dearly. 

But it couldn’t be you, could it?

[littleoddwriter]

Never Thought I’d See You Again | Alex Jones/Barry Milland & GenderNeutral!Reader (Platonic; Childhood Best Friends)

Hey there! So, I had this idea today and decided to write it after re-watching Prisoners.

summary; You got the news that your childhood best friend, Barry Milland aka Alex Jones, has come home after having been missing for the better part of twenty years. You re-unite with him.

notes; Gender Neutral!Reader; Childhood Best Friends; Platonic Relationship; Re-Uniting; Past Abuse and Trauma; Referenced Child Abduction; Crying; Survivor’s Guilt (kind of?).

Two weeks ago, it was all over the news that your childhood best friend, Barry Milland, had been found at last. He’d gone missing twenty-six years ago, believed to have been dead as the police couldn’t find a single trace of him for so long. But you and his parents had never stopped hoping and believing that he was somewhere out there. Fortunately, you were right.

All this time, you had kept in close contact with Barry’s parents. When he had been kidnapped, you hadn’t dealt well with it. You had always considered it to be your fault. After all, the two of you had been supposed to play outside, but you had showed up late. He wasn’t there when you came. And when you asked his parents where he was, they’d gone out of their minds with worry - rightfully so.

Now, twenty-six years later, Barry was back.

Nervously, you rang the Milland’s doorbell. Barry’s mother had invited you over when you had talked about his return on the phone. 

While you had strongly believed for him to come back one day, you certainly hadn’t been prepared for the reality of it.

Would he even remember you? 

The thought terrified you. This possibility that you had lost your best friend for good, despite him being very much alive.

Mrs Milland opened the door for you, greeting you with a tired, but genuine, smile, “Oh, Y/N! It’s so good to see you again!”

“It’s good to see you too, Mrs Milland. Thanks for having me,” you responded in kind, shortly embracing her.

She ushered you inside and called for Barry.

“I told him you were coming so he wouldn’t be too shocked,” she explained gently.

“Does he even remember me?” you asked, voicing your most terrifying thought to her.

“I believe so. He didn’t say anything or react much to it. I don’t know what he was thinking when I told him you were coming. Of course I said you are his best friend, but… It has been over twenty-six years,” Mrs Milland smiled sadly at you.

Nodding curtly, you told her that you understood.

Then, you saw him enter the doorway to the living area. There he stood. Your long lost and now found best friend, Barry. The news had said he was also called Alex Jones. The name his abductors had given him. You refused to call him that in your mind or out loud, unless he had asked for it.

“Barry, hi,” you breathed with a smile, raising your hand in a small wave. 

He waved back, looking anxious and uncertain, like a deer in headlights, who wanted nothing more but to flee. It hurt you.

“Hey,” was his belated verbal greeting. He was so soft-spoken. His voice was high and quiet, like he was afraid to speak up. You guessed that was only logical, considering what he’d been through.

“I’m Y/N. Do you, uh, do you remember me? I was your best friend before… well, before everything else,” you stuttered out, unsure of how you should proceed; but Mrs Milland gave you an encouraging nod. Apparently you weren’t doing as badly as you thought.

“I remember,” Barry answered softly. His hands balled into fists and he raised them, lowered them, and raised them again. All of it spoke of the uncertainty he must have been feeling. 

“Good, good,” you sighed, “When I heard that you were back, your mom and I phoned. She thought I could come see you. Was that okay? I don’t want to overwhelm you.”

He nodded quickly, fixing you with a look you couldn’t really decipher. But you thought there was an underlying appreciation there. Perhaps you were just interpreting that to make yourself feel better, though. You truly couldn’t tell anymore.

“Should we sit down somewhere and just talk? Or, I could also leave if it’s too much right now. Like I said, I don’t wanna overwhelm you, Barry. Is- Is it okay if I call you that?” You cringed internally at all the questions you bombarded him with. If your mere presence wasn’t overwhelming him, then your questions certainly were. 

“We can sit down,” Barry said, “here.” He pointed to the couch opposite of Mrs Milland’s armchair, where she had sat down again by then.

The fact that he didn’t even answer if you could call him by his birth name or not made you feel a little uncertain about it. Had he forgotten you asked? Had he overheard it? Or was he telling you it was okay by not saying anything at all? All three were possible. You hoped it was the latter because you were a little too anxious to ask him again. 

Wringing your hands, you thought about what you should say. There was so much on your mind. So many things you wanted to tell him. But you couldn’t decide on what to start with, what wouldn’t overwhelm him or yourself. 

“I was in the maze,” Barry admitted quietly, looking straight ahead, unseeing. 

“The maze?” you echoed him in question, wondering what he was talking about. Was ‘the maze’ where his abductors had kept him all those years?

He made an anxious sound in the back of his throat. It almost sounded like a whimper. His fists clenched and released periodically; sometimes he raised them just a little, too. 

“I’m sorry. About everything,” you blurted out.

Barry turned to look at you. He seemed surprised.

“I’m sorry I was late back then. When… when they took you. I should have been there, but I wasn’t. I’m so sorry, Barry,” you confessed, apologising for what has been plaguing you for over twenty-six years.

A cautious, very light weight touched your thigh. His hand. He gingerly put his hand on your thigh, near your knee. 

As soon as it had been there, it was gone again. You felt his touch, still. It lingered there for a couple more seconds. 

It was as though he’s told you that he’s forgiven you.

That was what did it for you.

Immediately, tears gathered in your eyes and spilled as a sob left your lips. 

Sadness, relief and happiness all existed inside of you at the same time, causing turmoil there. The tears flowed almost uncontrollably. You buried your face in your hands, feeling ashamed of breaking down like this. 

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Barry’s soft voice cut through your muffled sobs, making you cry even harder. 

He never deserved to have been taken. He never deserved to have his entire life ruined like this. He never deserved to be stuck in a living nightmare for two and a half decades. 

It wasn’t right.

Arms wrapped around you. It wasn’t Barry. But Mrs Milland. She shushed you, rocking you back and forth soothingly. Just like she’d done all those years ago when you were seven years-old and the fact that Barry was gone had hit you.

Once you had stopped crying, you thanked Mrs Milland for her comfort and got up from the sofa.

“I’m very sorry. Um, I think I should go for now,” you said awkwardly, breathing out a quiet laugh as you felt absolutely ridiculous. You had really thought you’d handle this whole thing much better than you did. 

“That’s all right. Take your time,” Mrs Milland told you gently, sitting down next to Barry, who looked at you curiously. 

“Is it okay if we see each other again some other time?” you asked, attempting to not sound as hopeful as you were.

Barry only nodded.

You smiled at him shakily and left, saying good-bye to each of them. 

“Good bye,” you heard Barry’s soft, high-pitched voice before you walked out of their home.

[littleoddwriter]

Anything alex Jones plz

Sleep | Alex Jones/Barry Milland & GenderNeutral!Reader (Platonic)

Hi there! Thanks for the request, I hope you like this story. :')

summary; Barry can't sleep and asks to come over so he can sleep at your place.

notes; Gender Neutral!Reader; Platonic Relationship; Fluff; Sharing a Bed; Short Fic.

When you told Barry that he could call you at any given time if needed, you certainly hadn’t expected him to be calling you at three AM.

Startling awake to hearing the phone ring, you rolled over in bed, turned on the lamp on your bedside table and picked up.

“Hello?” you asked with your voice still thick from sleep, as you rubbed your hand over your face to get rid of some of the fatigue.

“May I come over?” Barry asked and you didn’t have to look or have him tell you that it was him, because you could clearly hear it. His soft, rather high-pitched voice was unmistakable. 

“Right now?” you inquired, sitting up and swinging your legs over the edge of your bed. “Barry, what’s wrong?”

“I can’t sleep,” he simply answered.

“Yeah, all right. You can come over,” you told him after a second. 

This was certainly not how you expected to spend your night. Especially when the line clicked, meaning Barry had disconnected the call, and maybe a moment later your doorbell rang. 

Checking your appearance in the mirror, you shrugged, it wasn’t like he cared what you looked like; and then you walked over and opened the door for him.

“I tried to sleep in the RV, too. But it didn’t work,” Barry explained how and why he was already here.

“That’s okay, Barry. Maybe you’ll be able to sleep here,” you said, letting him come inside and take off his jacket and shoes. “Do your parents know you’re out? Otherwise I’ll send them a text about it, all right? Just in case.”

You didn’t want to admit it out loud to him, because it was always a touchy subject for obvious reasons, but you knew that if his parents didn’t know that he was with you, they would be terrified that something had happened to him again. Sometimes Barry didn’t really think about these things and so you rather asked to make sure, than to wake up with a hundred worried calls from Mrs Milland.

“They know. I accidentally woke up my mom.” He looked slightly embarrassed at that and you sympathised with him.

“Make yourself at home, like always,” you told Barry, walking further inside, as he followed you quietly. “I’ll get the sofa bed ready for you.”

Nodding, Barry went into the direction of the bathroom first. 

All the while, you got out some bed sheets, a blanket, and a few pillows from your stash and turned the sofa into a bed for him to sleep on for the night. This wasn’t the first time he’s slept over very suddenly because he couldn’t sleep; although usually it wasn’t three AM. 

Barry sat down on his bed when you were done and looked at you. It was hard for you to decipher what his expression meant, but you could already guess what he might have wanted.

“You don’t wanna be left alone now, right?” you asked to be sure.

He shook his head in answer, confirming your suspicion.

“Okay then, move over,” you said, “I’ll just go grab my blanket.”

Once you were back, he was pressed into the backrest of the sofa bed, making space for you to fit into. You laid down beside him and turned onto your side to look at him. 

“What do you need, Barry?” you asked eventually, knowing that he always needed something to help him fall asleep on nights like this.

Without a single word, Barry pulled his sleeves up and showed you his forearms expectantly. 

Nodding, you smiled at him, “Okay.”

Then you raised your hand and started drawing patterns on his forearms with your index finger. You drew butterflies, all kinds of geometric shapes, wrote some words, anything that came to your mind. You could practically feel him relax more and more with each little drawing, until he fell asleep at last.

With a tiny smile on your lips, you stopped and carefully removed his glasses, which he’s forgotten to take off before apparently, and put them aside.

Soon after you drifted off to sleep as well.

[littleoddwriter]

could you maybe do alex jones/barry milland x GN reader? i don’t have anything specific, just anything you want :) thank you <3

Safe | Alex Jones/Barry Milland & GenderNeutral!Reader (Platonic)

Hey there! Thanks for the request and all this creative freedom, gosh- I really hope you like this story! <3

summary; Barry has a flashback and a panic attack, and locked himself in his room as a result. So his mom calls you for help.

notes; Gender Neutral!Reader; Platonic Relationship; Friendship; Childhood Best Friends; Past Trauma; Panic Attack; Crying; Hurt/Comfort; Hugs; Platonic 'I love you's.

Barry’s mother had called you in panic. He was in his room, locked the door, wouldn’t come out, and she could hear him crying quietly. But she didn’t know what to do. She didn’t want to scare him, and the doctors have all told her to be careful around him. 

Hearing her son in so much despair broke her heart, though. You were the only one he ever calmed down around, which hurt her, considering she was his mother; but she somewhat understood that some people trusted their friends more than their parents. And as long as Barry would finally calm down, she didn’t care whose miracle work it was.

You were panting and sweat covered your brow when she opened the door for you. Have you been running all the way here?

“Oh, Y/N! Thank you for coming so quickly,” Mrs Milland exclaimed, clasping her hands together. She let you inside and said, “He’s still in his room. He hasn’t stopped crying, I think. Maybe you can convince him to let you in.”

Shooting her a small, reassuring smile, you nodded, “I’ll do what I can, Mrs Milland.”

She reclined in her armchair when you walked over to the hallway to find Barry’s room.

Hopefully this nightmare would be over soon.

She didn’t even know what happened.

One moment, Barry was all right, behaving the way he always did; and the next moment he was running to his room, whimpering and pulling at his hair, before he locked himself inside.

______

Gently rapping your knuckles against Barry’s door, you called, “Barry? It’s me, Y/N. Will you let me in, please? Your mom is really worried. And so am I.”

You pressed your ear against the door. All you could hear were his muffled sobs.

“Barry, please open the door,” you said firmly.

Suddenly, the crying stopped and there was some rustling. Then, quiet, slow, uncertain footsteps and the soft click of the door’s lock being unlocked.

The door opened and revealed Barry, who was hunched over. One arm was wrapped around his middle, the other held onto the door. His face was stained with tears. He was shaking slightly and breathing far too quickly and shallowly, you noted. He looked absolutely miserable.

“May I?” you inquired, motioning inside his room.

Barry only stepped aside to let you in. Once you entered the room, he closed the door again.

Then, he moved past you and took his toy RV into his hands. He placed it on the chest of drawers opposite of his bed and drove it back and forth, following the movement with his eyes. He was still whimpering quietly and fresh tears started to well up in his eyes. 

“Do you wanna tell me what’s going on?” you asked almost cautiously, afraid of upsetting him even more.

Sniffling, Barry shook his head, shortly gripping onto the toy car tightly to the point that his knuckles turned white.

“That’s all right. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” you told him gently. You pointed at the bed, then, asking, “May I sit down beside you?”

Barry nodded in response, shifting a little to make more room for you on the edge of his bed.

Thanking him, you sat down and just watched him play with the toy van for a few minutes. 

“I thought she was coming back,” Barry whispered. You almost didn’t catch it.

“You thought who was coming back?” you inquired, turning your head to look at him. He was staring straight ahead at his toy car.

“Holly,” he answered brokenly, “The woman I stayed with all this time.”

Realising that he was talking about the woman that had kidnapped him all those years ago and had kept him as her nephew to replace her dead son, your heart stopped for a moment and you felt cold. You couldn’t possibly imagine what that must have been like.

“I’m so sorry, Barry,” you told him sincerely.

All you wanted to do at this moment was to hug him and tell him that things were going to be okay. But it wasn’t like that would solve anything. Were things ever really going to be okay for him? Would they just get better to a point where things weren’t so painful anymore? Was that as okay as it would ever get for him? And was the hug you were yearning for really to comfort him or you? 

Barry must have sensed that you were trapped in your own inner turmoil. He was too good at reading you if you were being honest. But it was the same the other way around. You were the only person he ever calmed down around for a reason.

Without saying anything at all, Barry shifted a little and turned his upper body to you. He spread out his arms and embraced you lightly. 

As though something snapped inside you, you hugged him back all too quickly and tightly, jolting him for a split second, but he relaxed into the embrace.

Putting your chin on his shoulder, you tried to control your breathing and to blink away the tears that were gathering in your eyes.

You weren’t supposed to cry. You were supposed to help him and make sure he was okay.

“Thank you,” Barry said ever so softly, tightening his hold around you for a moment before loosening it again.

Snorting and huffing, you asked, “What for?”

Barry shrugged slightly. “Everything. For always coming to help me.”

Sighing softly, you let go of him enough to lean back and look at him, but you kept your hands on his shoulders. Then, you met his gaze and said, “I’ll always come here for you. There’s no chance I’m not doing that, Barry. You’re my best friend and I love you, okay?”

For a few moments, Barry was quiet, looking like he was processing what you’ve said, but then he smiled. You figured that this might have been the first time he’s actually smiled that day.

“I love you, too,” he then said.

With that, you two parted and got up from the bed to see Barry’s mom. You knew she was worried sick about him, and she really didn’t deserve to go through all this pain at any given time, but unfortunately that was what having Barry back brought with it. 

Nonetheless, you were proud of him. He was making progress. Things might genuinely get better for him eventually. You strongly believed in that, now that you had a clear head again.

[littleoddwriter]

Hii could u do a Alex Jones fix where the reader and him are having a game night or something lol.The rest is up to you <3

Game Night | Alex Jones/Barry Milland & GenderNeutral!Reader (Platonic)

Hi there! Aw, yes! Thanks for the request, I really hope you like this story. :')

summary; Barry and you are having a game night, like every week.

notes; Gender Neutral!Reader; Platonic Relationship; Friendship; Fluff; Game Night; Post-Canon (like, waaayyy after the movie).

Once every week or two, Barry would stay over at your place for the weekend, starting on Friday evening. Friday nights were game nights. And Barry always got to choose what games you played because he was the guest. That was a rule you had set up early on. It actually made him quite eager to be able to say what you would play. He always thought about it all week long.

This time, the two of you started with a classic game of Memory. You bought one that was all about cars because Barry was so interested in those. He was very excited about that. You cared so much about him. He knew that. Even when you didn’t say it, he still knew it because you showed it in all kinds of ways. This being one of them.

When he found another pair right away, you groaned in frustration. He couldn’t help the small smile that spread across his face. He tried to hide it with the two cards in his hands. 

“Seriously, it’s not fair. You’ve got such a good memory!” you exclaimed, pouting. He didn’t know whether or not it was genuine. Sometimes you played these things up.

Shrugging, he put the cards on his pile. He didn’t know what to say. He had a good memory, he knew that. But it had nothing to do with fairness in a game all about it, right? And you weren’t bad at it either, just not as good as he was. 

Turning over two cards that didn’t match, you put them back with a heavy sigh. 

“I bet you’ll get those now, too,” you muttered.

Cautiously he looked at you. It was hard for him to decipher if he should stop and let you win or not. 

But then you smiled at him, which relaxed him significantly. 

“I’m kidding, Barry. It’s all good. Sorry,” you said, raising your hands in a placating manner, “The game just got to me.”

“It’s okay,” he responded before turning over two cards that matched, one of which was indeed the one you had just messed up. 

Elongating a groan, you crossed your arms and let yourself fall back into your chair with a loud thud.

“Let’s play something else, please,” you said, pouting once again. Now he knew that it wasn’t completely serious at least. So he allowed himself to smile.

“Jenga?” he asked, gathering all the cards on the kitchen table together and putting them back into the box. 

“Yep, I can do that at least,” you chuckled, getting up to get out your game of Jenga. “Come on. We should play that in the living room.”

Following you there, you both sat down on the carpet in the middle of the room. 

Then you carefully turned the box upside down and made sure the tower stayed in place when you lifted the carton off of it. 

“You start,” Barry said, looking at you expectantly. 

“How generous of you after you just ruined me completely.” You laughed, which assured him even more that you weren’t actually mad at him for that. And then you chose the first piece from the very top. That was a very safe choice. “I know, I’m boring. Don’t even say it. Your turn!”

Barry was more daring than you were and took one block from the middle, carefully pulling it out. The tower shook a little but didn’t fall, luckily. 

This went on for a little while, until eventually, it was his turn again and his risk-taking made the tower fall. It wasn’t very loud, though, thanks to the carpet. He understood why you had insisted on that now. He was so sensitive to loud noises after all. That was nice of you.

“Okay, do you wanna try again or play something else?” you asked, once you were done cheering over his failure. It made him smile. He knew it was all in good fun.

“Hmmm, could we play Go Fish?” he inquired after a few moments. He had thought of so many different games all week long, he could barely decide on something anymore.

“Sure thing! I might actually have a chance to beat you there,” you chuckled heartily, putting the blocks back into the box. “Do you wanna stay on the floor or rather the kitchen table again?” 

“The floor is fine,” Barry answered, nodding for emphasis.

Then you got up, put the box back where it was and pulled out a deck of cards. 

While you played Go Fish, both of you had even more fun than you already did all evening long. You were laughing a lot and he couldn’t help but let out a few soft chuckles himself. He didn’t remember when he might have laughed the last time, but he felt like it was when he was a child. That was a reason why those evenings were so important to him. They put you both at ease after a long week.

At last, Barry won the game.

“Honestly, I have no idea what I expected to happen,” you said, letting your full hand of cards fall to the floor.

Chuckling, Barry shrugged, “It’s just luck.”

“Yeah, looks like I’ve run out of that,” you sighed playfully and smiled at him, “Looks like luck is on your side, though. You deserve it, Barry. I hope you know that.”

Looking down at his lap, he didn’t know what to say. Did he really deserve it? Why did he get so lucky now after- He didn’t want to think about that. 

“Thanks,” he simply responded after a few more moments passed. 

“Well! I think those were enough games for tonight, huh? Maybe we should watch a movie now or whatever you have in mind that isn’t me losing another game,” you said, while you gathered the cards together. He nodded in agreement and helped you, trying to think of a movie to watch with you. After all, you always let him choose that, too.

In the end, he settled on Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. It’s been one of his favourites ever since he was a child. 

On your couch, the two of you sat down shoulder to shoulder, watching the film in comfortable silence, simply enjoying each other’s company. He really liked sharing these things and spending his weekends with you. 

The therapist he was seeing now said that it would help him make progress to spend more time with other people that weren’t his parents. By now, he agreed.

[always-andromeda]

How Dano Characters Would Play Stardew Valley Part I | Dano!Characters x GN!Reader

Dano!Characters x GN!Reader

Author's Note | I mentioned that I had this idea to the groupchat girlies and they were super encouraging about it; so...this exists now. I just wanted to jot down some wholesome thoughts to give myself a little bit of a break from fulfilling milestone requests. I also just know way too much about this game and it really shows. Part II of this will be posted tomorrow!!

Warnings | spoilers for Stardew Valley? overall, this is pure fluff!

✰ Alex Jones/Barry Milland ✰

Alex gets very fixated on the game. It's just so calming to him. Expect him to be playing it for literally hours on end, completely avoiding any other responsibility he might have.

He likes planting and picking flowers. No matter how much you tell him that they just aren't profitable, he just loves how pretty they are. He also loves planting strawberries in the Spring.

All of his animals are at full friendship levels with him because he is so diligent at keeping them fed and petting them every single day.

Alex choses a cat for his pet and absolutely goes with naming them after some sort of food. Think something along the lines of Peach, Pumpkin, or Blueberry.

He deliberates for a very long time before choosing to marry Penny. He just thinks that she's so kind and her home life reminds him a lot of what his own looked like when he was younger. When she asks him what theme he'd like her to renovate the bedroom with, he chooses the strawberry theme, of course.

Alex gets a little intimidated by some of the other characters like the Wizard, Hayley, Kent, and Shane. He just doesn't get why they have to be so cold and never really gets higher than two hearts with them.

His favorite villager ever is Willy. He's not particularly good at fishing, but he makes it part of his routine to fish with Willy whenever he's outside of his fishing store.

✰ Calvin Weir-Fields ✰

Right off the bat, Calvin absolutely spoils the Stardew Valley experience. He's incredibly impatient and skips through most heart events and cutscenes. Within hours of starting the game, he's consulting the wiki.

He has a weird dislike for Elliott. Especially if you have any interest in the character. Calvin will fish just to acquire garbage that he then gifts to Elliott.

Calvin marries Leah. A red headed artist who has a bad ex? Yeah, that sounds pretty familiar. You know Calvin is zeroed in on this poor girl. When Leah paints the portrait of Marnie, Calvin chooses the Classic Country Portrait.

He would be okay with having the two children but gets so annoyed with having them run around his house (it throws off the aesthetic) that he'd turn them into doves and only feels bad about it when Leah asks about having children again.

He's decent with the farming and everyday upkeep of the farm but he doesn't see much of a point in the slice of life narrative. He needs an objective. So he just puts all his focus on making as much money as possible.

He gets really good at making jellies, wines, and caviar that he then sells. He tries to get into caring for the animals so he can make cheese, mayo, oil, and fabric but he's not nearly attentive enough to the animals.

This man goes days without feeding the animals and rarely remembers to pet them. He also goes nuts when he gets to name them. He has theming for basically all of the different types of animals. For example, all of the cows are named after gems.

Calvin gets pretty sick of the game pretty quickly though. He'll get bored with the unending nature and the second he puts it down, there's a good chance that he'll simply never pick it back up again.

✰ Dwayne Hoover ✰

Dwayne mostly prefers mining and combat to farming. He's fairly good at the combat aspect, actually.

Also loves being able to enchant his weapons at the Forge on Ginger Island. He has chests full of various weapons (that he never uses) but he still loves collecting them all.

He's scarily good at navigating the Skull Caverns. He has a fully enchanted Galaxy sword and absolutely kills it with his reflexes, killing monsters left and right and getting all of the best loot.

If Dwayne could insert himself into Sebastian, Sam, and Abigail's friend group, he absolutely would.

He also has such a soft spot for the Junimos and tries his damn best to finish the Community Center so they can be freed. If he could punch Morris the way that Pierre can when the Community Center is finished, he would also do that.

At first he says that he's going to stay single in the game. But Krobus? He absolutely strives to get Krobus to move into his farm. He feels bad that Krobus can't go outside and mostly stays indoors.

On rainy days though, Krobus will tell his character, “Ever since I left my people, I've been searching for a new home...now I belong somewhere. That means everything to me.” This makes Dwayne shed a few tears that he will fervently deny.

✰ Edward Nashton ✰

When he first discovers the game, he thinks he's going to be normal about it. He's just going to try it out. But like with everything else in his life, he gets fixated fast.

He dedicates hundreds of hours into the game and creates a dozen different save files. This is because he wants to explore the game to its fullest potential but doesn't want to get bored by playing on the same save file.

Edward marries basically everyone at some point but he definitely has his favorite storylines. His favorites: Abigail (he gets to be her protector when she starts out in the mines and she literally kills for him; what a queen), Sebastian (maybe he reminds him of a certain emo bat boy but maybe he's thinks it's cool that he's drummer, we'll never know), and Penny (she takes care of children, maybe she'll take care of him).

But the marriages are the least of his interests, to be very honest. He hops from spouse to spouse on different save files anyways. For the most part, he loves the mystery; or he likes uncovering mysteries.

He's not great at combat but he loves exploring the mines and finding new pieces of loot to collect.

He collects all the shiny things he finds; both gems and museum items. He'd make his own museum in a giant shed on the farm even though it doesn't do anything to make him money. He just likes keeping little trinkets!

That being said, he hoards basically everything and has chests full of resources that he can never possibly use all of. He spends hours on this game? Of course he's loaded on resources and mostly broke on the majority of his save files. But he wouldn't have it any other way.

✰ Eli Sunday ✰

Eli has a massive savior complex going into it. Shane and Pam are massive red flags for him. He tries going after Shane until he realizes that it's going into a romantic direction. The internalized homophobia has him reeling away and going straight to saving Pam.

This puts him directly in front of Penny. Penny intrigues him. She's quiet, meek, and cares for the town's children. She's the quiet and submissive wife of his little Christian boy dreams.

Eli absolutely tramples over poor Penny. He just gives her poppies continually until she has enough hearts for him to marry her. The second they're married, he kind of forgets she exists and doesn't really notice that the heart levels can deteriorate. 

That doesn't matter though. Father Eli has some money to make! This man wants to maximize his profits in any way that he possibly can.

Starfruit absolutely changed the game for him. He's got his math down exactly right. This is the kind of guy who would write down all of his math and work out the numbers.

He absolutely names his farm Eden and names all of the animals biblical names.

Eli loves having a farm that looks rich and lush. He fills the entire space with barns, coops, fruit trees, and squares of crops all being watered with iridium sprinklers. This farm is his virtual paradise and it really shows.

✰ Hank ✰

Hank has a somewhat normal attachment to this game at first. But it truly is incredibly comforting for him.

Socializing in real life and having his own experiences are kind of difficult for him to manage. So the game is a nice, relaxing reprieve from the anxiety and dread he carries with him every day.

When it comes time to choose a pet, Hank goes with a dog. Specifically the floppy eared brown dog. He’d name it something unbearably sweet like Honey or Chocolate.

Hank finds solace in the story and the intimate moments between the NPCs. He loves the bonds that he can create with each of the townies and finds things that he can like about basically all of them (however, he isn't a huge fan of Pierre, Pam, and Morris, of course).

He loves fishing, foraging, and farming the most. Mining isn't his strongest suit, but he can manage well enough to get rocks and ores. Just don't expect him to go venturing into the Skull Mines more than once or twice.

The greenhouse is his favorite place on the farm. He grows flowers and plants fruit trees along the sides. Sometimes he just likes sitting in there for a few seconds, just to ground himself.

The storylines of each NPC is far more important than money making to Hank.

He dates basically all of the marriage candidates, but he is thoughtful enough to acquire a rabbit's foot so he avoids being slut shamed by the boys and girls.

Hank doesn't get married, though. He loves all of the marriage candidates and their storylines pretty much equally and can't commit to one. But he lets Krobus move in in a heartbeat. It just makes sense to him.

Krobus is a little strange to him and it takes a while for him to warm up to the monster. But as soon as he does, they're thick as thieves.

Hank actually finds it hilarious that he decorates his house in such a classical manner with fireplaces and bookshelves and everything while simultaneously having Krobus' little dungeon room added on to the side of the house.

✰ Jay ✰

Like Alex, Jay adores the animals and keeps them at full friendship levels at all times. He has the most trouble naming them, though, because he'll spend minutes just thinking about what he should call each animal.

He eventually settles on a human name theme. He'll call them just regular people names like Burt, Steve, or some goofy name. This is because he believes it gives them a level of respect that you cannot get from naming an animal after an inanimate object or anything else. Ideally, he wouldn't want to name them at all because, "Who am I to dictate their identity?"

The animals are there purely for a good time. He absolutely doesn't harvest anything from them and actually loses money getting wheat for them so they can eat every day. This man would have no food in his fridge, low energy, no health and he'd still be running to Marnie's to spend his last few gold on getting some wheat.

On many occasions, he has not gotten home on time and passes out at two in the morning at some random place in the forest. This is because he's obsessed with foraging and will explore every outdoor area to find every forage-able good. This is because he never has any money to actually buy food for himself.

Jay ends up marrying Maru. It's almost accidental. He didn't plan on marrying anyone in the game until he saw her heart event where the player looks at the stars with her. It's such an intimate moment that he is instantly smitten.

He completely commits to Maru when she frees her robotic invention, Marilda. It's a sentiment that he applies with every living being in real life, so of course he goes for her.