#clay x jeff

[toppersjeep]

Jeff Atkins (When You’re Gone)

Summary: After Jeff dies you feel lost without him. You try to move on but it’s hard for you. So when they honor him for the team you decide to speak about him. You also sometimes see Jeff just like Clay sees Hannah. Who doesn’t love a ghost of there ex?

this song inspired this

Your POV

“Hey sis are you ready for today” Clay asked me. But I pretended to ignore him. I wasn’t ready. My boyfriend was dead. This year would’ve been our senior year together. Only because he was failing classes. But part of me thinks he wanted to stay back so I didn’t have to do it alone.

But now he was gone. Part of me still felt like he was here with me. I missed him more than anything in this world. I’d give anything to see his smile.

“Y/N we gotta get going” Clay said as I started at a photo of Jeff and I. A tear rolled down my cheek. “Yeah Clay” I said wiping a tear. “You don’t have to speak you know I can say you were sick” Clay said. “No no it’s okay” I said setting the picture back on my nightstand. “Alright then” Clay said.

I then looked at the necklace Jeff had given me with his initials and a little baseball bat. But now beside it was his class ring. I never took it off for anything. At least this way he was still here.

“I’m coming” I said grabbing Jeff’s letterman jacket and putting it on over my dress. Clay and I drove to the school. We parked and went inside the school. It was in the gym. I walked over to the principal were he wanted me.

Clay and our parents sat on the bleachers. Jeff’s parents sat beside them too. The principal of course said a couple words. I just sat there thinking about him. And the first time we met. Was actually when clay tutored him.

Flashback

“I brought my sister to help since she’s so good at science” Clay said as I sat down beside Jeff. “Wow there’s no way she’s your sister she’s wow” Jeff said I blushed. “And you are so” Jeff said I laughed.

“Very funny Jeff” Clay said. “So what’s your name beautiful” Jeff said I blushed. “Y/N” I said he smiled. “I love that name” he said. “Alright enough flirting” Clay said.

And after that he got my number and we talked for hours on end. He eventually asked me out on a date. Even though clay hated the idea. Eventually he warmed up to us dating.

He was my first kiss my first everything. But I never thought I’d meet someone like him. He’s perfect.

End of flashback

“And now Y/N Jensen has prepared something in honor of her late boyfriend Jeff” the principal said. I walked up. I then went up to the microphone. I just looked at everyone sitting on the bleachers.

“Jeff… I’m sorry give me a second” I said tearing up. I then pretended he was there in that room like I did sometimes. Maybe it was real and he was there protecting me. “Love it’s okay you can do this deep breaths” Jeff said standing beside me.

Even though he wasn’t there. Part of me felt his presence with me all the time. I took a deep breath and then began to speak again.

“Jeff was one of those people that you met once in a lifetime and we all had the privilege of knowing him” I said. “I had the privilege of knowing him a lot better than all of you” I said tearing up. “Maybe even more than his parents knew” I said.

“I also had the privilege of loving him and being loved by him” I said. “I remember the first time I met Jeff it was in the library” I said. “The first thing he told me was that I was beautiful” I said. “Nobody had ever made me feel as special as he did” I said as a tear rolled down my cheek.

“From that day forward he became the most important person in my life” I said. “We talked every day and night even when I didn’t want to” I said people laughed. “He even tried to teach me how to play baseball but I sucked” I said. “Even though he always told me I didn’t” I said.

“You could’ve easily beat me babe with practice” Jeff said.

“He always told me I could beat him with practice but I know he let me win” I said. “Being loved by Jeff was one of the best feelings in this world” I said. “The way his eyes lit up when he looked at me is something I’ll never forget” I said.

“I remember the night he told me he loved me” I said tearing up. “A girl waits her whole life to hear those words” I said. “We were at the dance in this very gym” I said. “Of course I dragged him to this dance like I always did” I said smiling. “And he came even though he probably would’ve preferred a movie night” I said people smiled.

“We were dancing on this very floor when he told me he loved me” I said. “It was a slow dance and I had my head on his chest and I remember how I felt in that moment” I added.

“So safe and so secure he then kissed my forehead and told me he loved me” I said. “He said “Y/N I’m gonna say something crazy I don’t care if you don’t say it back” and I looked at him” I said. “I then said “Jeff nothing you can say is crazy” I remember looked up at him and he just smiled” I said.

“He then whispered in my ear “Y/N I love you I know that it hasn’t been long but I’m in love with you” I remember feeling butterflies in that moment” I said tearing up. “I thought for once in my life I had my moment” I said.

“I then looked up at him and told him I loved him” I said wiping a tear. “From that moment on I loved Jeff everyday more and more” I said. “He promised me so much more than anyone had before him” I said. “…Jeff was… and is my soulmate and I’d give anything to have him here beside me” I said as tears rolled down my face.

“The night.. Jeff.. passed… before the party we had a conversation about our future this year” I said. “I know it sounds crazy for two kids to be thinking about the future” I said. “But we were in love” I said. “Madly in love” Jeff said. I smiled.

“He told me that he wanted to marry me” I said. “That he knew I was the one for him and there wasn’t anyone else” I said crying. “I said ask me again next year” I said wiping a tear. “And he told me he would little did I know he had the ring there that night” I said.

“I wish I would’ve known and said yes that very night.. I think all the time maybe he’d still be here if I would’ve known” I said. “But.. I do know that he’s still here with us watching over everyone” I said. “Jeff was one of a kind and he’d be so happy that this team won states this year” I said.

“And Jeff if you are somehow hear listening or in heaven I want you to know the answer is yes and it will always be yes” I said tearing up. “Thank you for giving me the opportunity to speak about Jeff” I said.

I then stopped speaking and walked away. The principal went back up and spoke. I went outside and sat on a lunch table.

“I’m proud of you” Jeff said sitting beside me. “I wish you were here” I said. “I am here for you always right here” he said pointing at my necklace. “You know what I mean” I said looking at him. “I know baby” he said I looked at him.

“I can’t do this without you” I said. “Hey” he said side hugging me. “Remember what I always told you” Jeff said. “No matter what you’ll always protect me” I said. “That and you look beautiful no matter what” he said I laughed.

“I should’ve said yes that night I’m sorry” I said. “It’s not your fault Y/N don’t blame yourself okay” he said wiping my tears. “I need you” I said. “And I’ll always be here but..” Jeff said. “But what” I said. “You gotta move on eventually” he said looking at me. “I can’t” I said looking at the ring.

“Love.. you will always be my first love too you know that” Jeff said. “There’s nobody else like you” I said. “Really.. what about Scott Reed” Jeff said. “Jeff what about him” I said. “Remember the day you dropped your books and he helped you”Jeff said. “Yeah” I said.

“Or when he asked you for help with the team games” Jeff said. “Jeff I don’t understand” I said. “Or how he checks up on you after the trails or just texts you” Jeff said.

“What are you saying” I said looking at him. He then looked behind me. I heard some footsteps. “Hey I came to check on you” Scott said. Jeff looked at me. “H..Hey” I said Scott said beside me. “Are you okay” Scott asked.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay” I said. He put an arm around me. “It’s weird without him here but it feels like he’s pushing me towards you” Scott said. “Maybe he is here” I said looking over at him he smiled.

“It’s just like all these things keep happening and I feel like he’s putting us together” Scott said. I rested my head on his shoulder. “Your not like your baseball friends” I said. “Those guys may be my teammates but they are all assholes Jeff wasn’t” Scott said.

“Jeff used to say the same thing about you” I said. “Maybe it’s a sign” Scott said. “So why do you keep appearing every where” I said. “Because I care about you a lot” he said wiping my tears. Just like Jeff used to do for me.

“But why me” I said. “Because your special and Jeff would always tell me that” Scott said. “And I’m starting to see why he loved you so much” Scott said. “Yeah” I said. “Yeah so if you are up for it I’d like too…

He began to say I kissed him.

“Prom” I asked. “I was gonna ask you the same thing” Scott said. “So yes” I said. “I’d love to” Scott said. “Told you I got you always” Jeff said to me I smiled. “What are you looking at” Scott said. “The beautiful sunset” I said.

“Hey maybe Jeff is here after all” Scott said. “He is..” I said tearing up. “I’ll always love you” Jeff said. “I love you” I mouthed and he was gone just like that. “So prom” Scott said.

“Oh right my dress is like light purple” I said he smiled.

[cosmicflw3rr]

I know I say this everytime I watch a new show but I’ve been rewatching 13 reasons why AND I HAVE AN ITCH TO WRITE FOR IT. PLS PLS PLS REQUEST IM BEGGINGGGGG.

ill write for

clay jensen

justin foley

scott reed

zach dempsey

jeff atkins

pls I’m begging you to request

[bunniesssstuff]

MAYBE IN OUR NEXT LIVES? - NRK

pairing Nishimura Riki x reader

warnings none for this chapter

genre romance, slice of life, angst, unrequited love

wordcount 10k

CHAPTER FOUR- How Many Ways Can a Boy Say I Like You Without Saying It?

You’re sticky, glitter-covered, exhausted, and about two beads of sweat away from declaring the DIY charm booth a crime scene.

The first day of the cultural festival is finally—mercifully—over.

Around you, students drag their feet like battle survivors. Someone’s crying over a snapped bracelet. There’s a mysterious puddle near the back counter. And your fingers? Permanently dyed a shade of purple no amount of soap is fixing tonight.

You’re wiping glitter off a countertop with a damp tissue when Hana lets out a dramatic groan.

“Why does it look like the apocalypse happened right here and nowhere else?”

Aoi, balancing a tray full of tangled bead chains, sighs. “Because we are the apocalypse.”

You drop your head to the counter. “Can we just pretend today never happened?”

“Sure,” Hana chirps. “As long as we also pretend you didn’t accidentally superglue your sleeve to the work table.”

“That was one time.”

“One time too many, L/N.”

Meanwhile, across the courtyard, the boys’ scavenger hunt booth is winding down in a flurry of crumpled clue sheets and scattered prop swords. Hayato is bouncing on his heels, counting yen notes with the reckless glee of someone who has clearly never paid a bill in his life.

“Dude. We made this much?” he yells, waving a handful of coins in Kenta’s face.

Kenta grabs the tally sheet. “I mean… yeah. That’s solid.”

They fist bump like they just won the lottery.

Then there’s Riki. Leaning back in a folding chair, sipping a boxed grape juice like this is all beneath him. He glances at the money pile once before muttering, “I’ll make more tomorrow.”

Kenta snorts. “Alright, Jeff Bezos. Chill.”

Hayato throws an arm around him. “Make more with what, your death glare? The kids were terrified of you today.”

Riki shrugs, lazy and unimpressed. “Fear is profitable.”

Back at the girls’ booth, you’re scraping resin off your clipboard with a pair of tweezers when the door bursts open like a musical number’s about to begin.

Kaoru enters, beaming. His uniform jacket is half-buttoned, his hair messier than usual, and he’s carrying something wrapped in tissue paper like it’s a newborn child.

“YN!” he calls, eyes lighting up like Christmas. “I got you something!”

You blink. “Um. What?”

From behind the counter, Hana immediately whispers, “Please be food. Please be food. Please be food.”

Kaoru bounds over to you, dramatically presenting the bundle with both hands.

“I was closing my clay booth, right? And I saw this little pot I made earlier that didn’t sell. But then I thought—this isn’t for customers. This is for you.”

He unwraps the paper.

And there it is.

A tiny, uneven flower pot… in the shape of a bunny.

With floppy ears, a crooked nose, and a heart-shaped indent near the base.

You stare at it.

Then up at him.

“Did… you make this?”

Kaoru beams. “Of course! It’s not perfect, but it’s cute, right?”

“Kaoru,” you say softly, “this is literally the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

He practically levitates with joy.

“I KNEW IT!”

And that’s when it happens.

As he spins around to show the others, his foot catches on the uneven rug near the entrance. You watch, frozen, as his body tilts forward in slow motion.

Aoi gasps. Hana yells, “THE POT—!”

Kaoru crashes to the floor in a full-body sprawl.

But—

The pot survives.

Held safely above his head in trembling hands like Simba from The Lion King.

He groans from the floor. “Worth it.”

You rush over. “Are you okay?!”

He grins up at you through gritted teeth. “I think I cracked my soul. But the bunny’s fine.”

“Your priorities are… very Kaoru.”

From behind you, Hana sighs. “Forget YN. Someone date the pot. It’s the only stable one in this room.”

You help Kaoru up, still clutching the gift. He winces, limping slightly.

“Maybe sit down before your leg actually detaches,” Aoi suggests.

“I shall sit with honor,” he declares, dramatically placing the pot on the counter before collapsing into a folding chair.

You glance at the bunny again. It’s lumpy and clearly handmade. The paint is a little chipped at the base. But your heart squeezes anyway.

There’s something about it that feels… warm. Real. Like a gesture from someone who tried just for you.

And somehow, that’s louder than any bouquet or love confession.

“Thank you,” you say quietly.

Kaoru smiles, eyes bright despite the probable bone damage. “Anything for you, L/N.”

From somewhere outside, Hayato yells something about ramen.

The sun’s dipping now. The air smells like melted sugar and sweat. The booths are nearly empty.

It’s the end of the first day.

And somehow, this chaotic, messy, glue-covered afternoon has carved itself into your memory like a scene you’ll remember even years later.

You cradle the bunny pot in your hands.

And smile.

-

It starts with Riki being quiet.

Which is dangerous.

Because when Riki is quiet, it doesn’t mean he’s absent. It means he’s calculating.

You don’t know that, of course. You’re still helping Aoi repack the leftover glitter bottles when Kaoru, bruised but determined, sits beside you on the edge of the counter again—feet swinging, bunny pot cradled like a relic.

“Tell me honestly,” he says, holding it up. “If this was sold at a museum gift shop, how much would you pay?”

“A strong 500 yen,” you tease.

“Five hundred?!”

“For the sentiment. A hundred for the craftsmanship.”

He gasps. “I’ll take it.”

Across the courtyard, the boys have long since packed up their scavenger hunt station. Kenta’s tossing balled-up clue sheets into a recycling bag while Hayato rummages through his backpack for snacks.

“I’m just saying,” Hayato argues, mouth full of chips, “we should’ve charged extra for anyone who screamed when Riki looked at them.”

Kenta snorts. “He didn’t look at them. He stared into their souls.”

Riki, sitting on a low bench with a half-empty bottle of Pocari Sweat, doesn’t reply. He’s watching.

Specifically, he’s watching you.

You, sitting between Aoi and Kaoru, laughing at something Kaoru just said. You, tucking the bunny pot carefully into your tote bag like it’s fragile gold. You, cheeks flushed from a long day, ponytail lopsided, sweater streaked with glue.

Riki stands.

“Oh no,” Hayato mutters.

Kenta: “No.”

Riki: already walking.

Kaoru’s in the middle of another impassioned monologue about the artistic merit of asymmetry when Riki appears, calm as glass.

You don’t notice him at first. Neither does Kaoru.

And then—

One perfectly timed step.

Kaoru shifts, turning to wave at Aoi—and Riki’s foot meets his sneaker with uncanny precision.

The trip is subtle. Almost invisible.

Almost.

Kaoru stumbles, again, arms flailing.

This time he doesn’t fall completely—just catches himself on the table’s edge with a strangled, “AH—why does this keep happening to me?!”

You blink. Aoi gasps.

Hana, off to the side, straightens up. “Was that… sabotage?”

Kaoru glares at the floor. “This school is cursed.”

Then you look up.

And meet Riki’s eyes.

He’s already holding something out to you. Small. Neatly wrapped in soft gray cloth.

“I made you something,” he says simply.

You blink again. “Wait, you made—?”

You unwrap the cloth slowly.

It’s a flower pot.

But not just any pot.

A hamster.

A hamster-shaped flower pot.

Round cheeks. Beady eyes. Tiny paws pressed together like it’s praying. Slightly lopsided ears. And at the bottom, in neat paint strokes, a faint inscription:

“Property of YN.”

You’re stunned into silence.

Riki’s voice is low, almost conversational. “You always wanted a hamster when you were little.”

You look up, startled. “How do you—?”

“You used to talk about it. Third year of middle school. You told Konon you’d name it Miso if you ever got one.”

You forgot that.

He didn’t.

“I couldn’t get you one,” he adds, softer now. “So… I figured this might count.”

You open your mouth to say something—anything—but then he speaks again.

Just one more line.

So soft you almost miss it.

“But we can think about getting one together. In the future.”

You freeze.

You don’t even process the words fully. Your brain catches on the first half—hamster, gift, Riki made this???—and the rest floats past you like static.

But Aoi hears it.

Hana definitely hears it.

And Kaoru—Kaoru hears it loud and clear.

He straightens. His eyes narrow. His heart cracks just a little more.

Because that line wasn’t just a joke.

It was personal.

It was intentional.

And it hit.

“Is this revenge for the bunny?” Kaoru mutters under his breath, only loud enough for Aoi to hear.

“Riki: one,” Aoi murmurs. “Kaoru: emotionally hospitalized.”

You, still completely unaware of the ground-shattering subtext swirling around you, stare down at the pot in your hands.

The detail. The color. The way it looks just a little bit like the cartoon hamster sticker you used to keep on your school folder.

“Riki,” you say finally, quietly, “this is…”

Your voice trails off.

He shrugs one shoulder. “It’s nothing.”

It’s not nothing.

Aoi’s still staring between the two of you like she’s watching the final arc of a very, very slow burn anime.

Hana is biting her lip to keep from cackling.

Kaoru is nursing internal injuries.

You… are confused.

You hug the hamster pot to your chest like it’s a lifeline. “I—thank you. Really.”

Riki doesn’t smile. Doesn’t nod.

He just stands there.

Unmoving.

Observing.

Like he’s waiting for something else to happen.

And then, after a long pause, he says, “Let me know if you name it.”

“…The pot?”

“Yeah.”

You blink again. “I mean… I was gonna name it something dumb like Mochi.”

Riki’s eyes finally, finally spark with something.

Approval?

Affection?

Smugness?

You can’t tell.

But Hana can.

“Oh god,” she whispers. “He’s flirting. This is actual flirting. I need a camera.”

Kaoru slumps dramatically onto the table beside you.

“Can someone at least trip him next?”

The rest of the booth is silent.

Riki finally—finally—takes a step back.

Not away. Just back.

His eyes flick once to Kaoru.

Then to the bunny pot sitting beside you.

Then back to you.

“Don’t drop that one,” he says, nodding to the hamster in your arms.

You nod. Heart pounding. “I won’t.”

And just like that, the balance of the universe tilts.

No big gestures. No confessions. No grand exits.

Just one pot. One memory. One maybe.

And four people suddenly, violently aware of the shifting gravity around you.

-

You’re elbow-deep in sticker residue when Riki’s voice cuts through the remaining festival noise like it owns the air.

“How much did your booth make?”

You blink up at him, nearly dropping the resin charm you were peeling off a tray. He’s standing just behind your shoulder, arms crossed, head tilted, like he’s asking what time it is instead of issuing a challenge.

You raise an eyebrow. “Why?”

Riki doesn’t answer. He never does when he’s planning something.

Hana, without looking up from the mess she’s organizing, replies for you. “Just over 14,300 yen.”

You blink again. “Wait, how do you—?”

“I counted it while you were deep in glitter despair,” Hana shrugs. “We sold out of six colors. That’s a lot of charms.”

Riki hums.

Then pulls his phone out of his back pocket and taps the calculator app with one thumb. You watch him type something. Then pause. Then squint at the total.

Hayato, who’s seated across the way drinking from a juice box, chimes in like this is his cue. “We made 14,200.”

Your jaw drops slightly. “Wait. Seriously?”

Hana perks up. “Wait—did we just—?”

Aoi gasps. “We beat them?!”

“By a hundred yen,” Riki mutters, staring at his screen.

You’re still frozen.

Hana is already performing a victory dance with two trash bags in her hands. “This is better than passing math.”

Aoi claps once, delighted. “We’re iconic.”

Riki slips his phone back into his pocket and looks at you, gaze unreadable.

“You win.”

You blink. “I—uh, okay?”

“I’ll treat you,” he says.

You furrow your brows. “Treat me?”

“Reward,” he adds casually, as if this is the most normal progression in the world. “Ice cream. You beat us.”

You open your mouth. Close it. Open it again. “I didn’t do it alone—”

“But I’m not taking Hana out,” he replies flatly.

Hana: “Rude but valid.”

“Ice cream,” Riki repeats, already looking vaguely impatient.

“Oh,” you say, still not catching up. “You mean… now?”

And that’s when it happens.

Before you can get another word in, he reaches over, fingers brushing the handle of your tote bag, and swings it effortlessly over his shoulder like it weighs nothing.

“Hey—!”

Then his hand wraps around your wrist—gentle, firm—and you’re suddenly being led.

“Wait, I still have to help clean—”

“You’ll clean tomorrow,” Riki replies, voice even.

Hana drops her sponge in dramatic betrayal. “Excuse me?!”

Aoi squints. “Did he just… take her?”

They both stand frozen, watching your confused face disappearing with Riki around the corner of the booth.

Hana yells, “WE HAVE TRASH TO SORT!”

Riki doesn’t respond. His grip isn’t tight, but it doesn’t loosen either.

You twist slightly in protest. “Wait—Riki—”

He looks over his shoulder, the edge of a smirk forming.

“You coming, or do I drag you?”

Your heart has no idea how to keep up.

And just like that—you’re gone.

Aoi stares after the spot where you disappeared.

Hana folds her arms. “He really said, ‘I win.’”

“Riki: two,” Aoi mutters. “Kaoru: spiritually flattened.”

That’s when they both turn in unison.

To Kaoru.

Still standing nearby, clutching the broom like it’s a weapon and a support beam at once.

He notices the silence.

“…What?”

Hana gives him a look.

Aoi hands him the trash bags.

“You got this, right?” she says sweetly.

Kaoru stares at the mess. The glitter-stained table. The pile of empty charm wrappers.

Then he sighs.

“I hate romance.”

-

Riki is still holding your hand.

Like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

Which it absolutely isn’t.

Not for Riki.

Not for you.

Not for anyone who’s watched this boy spend the last three years speaking in one-word responses and emotional ellipses.

And yet here he is—one hand slung casually over your tote bag strap, the other wrapped around your wrist like it’s second nature. His fingers are warm. His grip is steady. He doesn’t glance at you. Doesn’t ask if you’re okay with it.

He just… holds.

You try not to overthink.

You fail.

The street is still lit with leftover festival lanterns swaying overhead. Students laugh in the distance. Some are still tearing down their booths. The smell of grilled sweet potato lingers in the air.

And for a moment, you walk in silence.

Until Riki speaks.

“She solved it in ten minutes.”

You blink. “What?”

“Today. This girl. One of the first customers. Solved the scavenger hunt before Hayato could even finish explaining the rules.”

You snort. “Bet that bruised his ego.”

“He claimed she cheated.”

“Did she?”

“No. He’s just loud.”

You laugh, and Riki smiles.

Actually smiles.

And then he just… keeps going.

“There was this other kid,” he continues, “who tried to steal the plastic sword from Clue Station Four. Challenged Hayato to a duel in the middle of the quad.”

Your eyes widen. “Did he accept?”

“Of course. He lost. Dramatically.”

You’re wheezing.

“And Kenta,” Riki adds, shaking his head like an exhausted dad, “was worse than any of the customers. I made a perfectly decent final clue and he rewrote it to rhyme. Badly.”

You stop walking for a second. “Wait.”

He turns to look at you.

You stare.

“You’re…talking.”

He raises a brow. “Isn’t that allowed?”

“You’ve said more words in the last five minutes than in the last five years combined.”

He tilts his head, faintly amused. “That’s not true.”

“You’re still talking.”

“I haven’t reached my word limit yet.”

Your heart stutters.

Because that’s not just a joke. That’s him being playful.

You stare at him, dazed. “What is wrong with you today?”

He looks at you. Really looks. And smiles again—tiny, crooked, devastating.

“Nothing.”

You walk a few more steps before the words leave your mouth without thinking.

“We had this one little girl today,” you say. “She came in with her older brother and made a keychain for their mom. Spelled out ‘I LOVE YOU’ in beads.”

Riki hums. “Cute.”

“She spelled ‘LOVE’ wrong,” you add with a grin. “It said ‘I LVOE YOU.’ But she was so proud, we didn’t correct it.”

“That’s even better,” Riki says.

His tone is soft.

Like he actually means it.

And somehow, that makes your heart trip again.

You keep walking. Letting your story spill out in pieces. The customer who glued their charm to their phone case by mistake. The guy who tried to flirt with Hana and ended up buying eight keychains out of sheer panic. The mysterious vanishing bottle of glitter.

Riki listens. All of it.

And not just passively. He nods. Reacts. Occasionally adds a quiet comment.

He’s not pretending to care.

He cares.

You don’t know how to handle this version of him. This slightly-too-happy, still-holding-your-hand version of him who suddenly acts like he’s always belonged beside you.

You try to ignore the warm weight of your fingers wrapped in his.

You fail.

Again.

-

When you reach the ice cream shop, it’s still open—bright lights buzzing overhead, posters of limited-time flavors slapped across the windows like old battle flags.

Riki lets go of your wrist only to open the door.

You walk in, expecting him to release your tote bag, too.

He doesn’t.

You walk toward the counter together, the bell above the door ringing.

And then Riki steps forward.

And starts ordering.

“Strawberry cheesecake. Two scoops.”

Your eyebrows shoot up.

“Caramel latte. Two scoops.”

You blink. “Wait—”

“Black sesame. Two scoops.”

“Riki—”

“Mint chocolate, the weird one she only likes sometimes. Two scoops.”

You stare at the girl behind the counter, who is now typing furiously.

“Wait—Riki! That’s so much—”

He glances at you.

Shrugs.

“It’s what you like.”

You squint. “How do you even know that?”

“You talk a lot when you’re stressed,” he says simply.

“I—I do not—!”

“You monologued about your ice cream ranking system for forty minutes last month.”

“...Oh my god.”

The girl at the counter giggles.

You want to sink into the floor.

Riki pays without blinking.

You, meanwhile, are still trying to figure out whether he’s secretly taken your diary home or just… listened all these years.

When you finally sit down—your tray stacked with more sugar than your daily limit can legally handle—you glance over at him.

He’s empty-handed.

You frown. “Wait. What about yours?”

He leans back, expression neutral. “Didn’t get any.”

“Why not?”

“You might not finish all that,” he says simply.

You stare.

“I’ll eat what’s left.”

You just blink.

Your spoon hovers over the strawberry scoop like it’s lost its purpose in life.

“Who are you today?”

He doesn’t answer.

Just looks at you with something that might be the ghost of a grin.

And you sit there. Eating. Sharing occasional bites. Telling him which scoop is best. Watching him steal a taste of one, then another, then all of them “for balance.”

And for once, the world outside the shop doesn’t matter.

Just him.

Just you.

And the feeling—terrifying and new—that maybe, just maybe, Riki’s word limit is only high when you’re the one he’s with.

-

You’ve eaten approximately five spoons of ice cream, and Riki hasn’t touched a single one.

He’s just sitting across from you.

Staring.

Not in a creepy way.

Well. Maybe a little creepy.

But mostly in a… soft way.

Like he’s watching something rare. Like you’re doing something fascinating, even though you’re literally just poking matcha ice cream around a cup like it insulted your ancestors.

You glance up mid-bite and catch him.

“Do you… want a bite?”

He blinks. Just once.

As if your voice tugged him out of a tunnel.

Then, calmly, he nods.

You expect him to reach for the other spoon on the tray.

He doesn’t.

He picks up your spoon.

The one still warm from your hand.

He scoops a small bit of matcha ice cream—carefully, like this is a science experiment—and places it in his mouth without hesitation.

You freeze.

Your soul freezes.

Your lungs file for divorce.

He chews slowly. Thoughtfully. Then swallows with the air of someone evaluating a wine flight.

“…It’s good,” he says, nodding.

You stare at him.

Then at your spoon.

Then at him.

Then at your soul leaving your body.

“Riki,” you whisper, “that was my spoon.”

He looks up. “Yeah.”

Like it’s normal.

Like he hasn’t just thrown a brick into the still pond of your sanity.

You try to speak.

Fail.

Try again.

“Did you just—?”

“Yeah,” he repeats, even more casually this time. “You offered.”

“I meant, like, with a new spoon—!”

“I didn’t mind.”

You blink. Rapidly.

“…Should I?”

He doesn’t answer. He just leans back in the booth, arms crossed, expression unbothered.

Meanwhile, your internal monologue is tap dancing toward the end credits.

You manage three more bites—carefully, with a different spoon—before you speak again.

“So…”

“So.”

You try not to fidget. “Thanks for this. For, uh… ice cream.”

He nods.

Quiet again now.

Almost back to normal.

Except not.

Because his eyes linger when you speak.

And his body language is relaxed in a way that makes you feel like he’s not just comfortable around you—he’s content.

There’s a difference.

A dangerous one.

“You’ve been talking a lot today,” you murmur.

He doesn’t deny it.

“Why?”

Riki shrugs lightly. “Felt like it.”

“That’s rare.”

“I know.”

You look at him. Harder this time.

And he’s not staring anymore.

But there’s a smile tugging at the edge of his mouth that wasn’t there before. Just barely.

Like he knows you’re trying to figure him out.

And he’s letting you try.

After a few more seconds, he says—

“How good of a teacher is Konon?”

You blink. “Konon? Like… my math tutor Konon?”

“Yeah.”

You squint. “Why?”

“She’s my sister. I’m allowed to ask.”

“But you live with her. You know what she’s like.”

He hums.

Then, like it’s the most casual thing in the world:

“Would you mind if I joined your tutoring sessions?”

You nearly drop your spoon. Again.

“…What?”

“Your sessions. With her. Could I join?”

You stare. “You want to… study?”

“Mm-hm.”

“With me?”

“Yep.”

“But… Konon lives in your house. She can teach you literally whenever.”

“She’ll hit me with a ruler if I get things wrong alone.”

You blink.

“Also,” he adds, even quieter, “It’d be more fun with you there.”

Your brain does a somersault.

“Fun,” you repeat weakly.

He nods. “She’s nice when you’re around. Scary when you’re not.”

“That sounds fake.”

“She threw an eraser at me once. Full speed.”

You try to imagine Konon doing that. It’s somehow believable.

But more than that—

You’re now trying to process the fact that Riki just asked to study with you. Voluntarily.

Something has shifted.

Slightly.

Irrevocably.

And he knows it.

You nod, slowly. “I mean… sure. If you want.”

He hums again.

Then goes quiet.

Not awkward.

Not retreating.

Just peaceful.

Like a cat curling up in the last ray of sun.

You finish your ice cream slowly, trying not to overanalyze the new tone in the air.

And the old spoon in his hand.

And the invitation he just made sound like the most normal thing in the world.

Your world?

It’s never been less normal.

-

You’re about five spoons into caramel latte swirl when it happens again.

That look.

From him.

Riki’s chin rests lazily on one palm, elbow propped on the table. His eyes are on you. Not in passing. Not the kind of glance you can pretend didn’t happen.

This is staring.

And not the usual blank stare you’ve learned to decode over time. This one’s… warm. Thoughtful. Focused.

Like he’s studying your every reaction. Like he’s storing them all somewhere private.

You finally meet his gaze.

“What?” you ask.

He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t look away.

“You have ice cream on your cheek.”

“Oh.”

You reach up with your napkin—wiping randomly. “Did I get it?”

He doesn’t answer.

Just raises his hand. Slowly. Reaches halfway across the table—fingers brushing closer to your face.

You freeze.

His hand lifts just a little higher—right toward the edge of your face, about to—

Ding-ling.

The shop bell jingles violently.

You both jump slightly.

The door swings open, letting in a gust of humid festival air—and a woman.

No, not a woman.

A presence.

She’s wearing a robe that definitely wasn’t made in this century, dragging a woven pouch stitched with strange eye patterns, one larger than her entire torso. Her hair is silver, tied in a loose, frizzy bun with several metal charms hanging from the strands. She has five rings on one hand. All different metals. All slightly cursed-looking.

She steps inside like she owns not only the shop, but possibly your fates.

“One scoop of mango,” she announces loudly, marching toward the counter. “No matter how spiritual you are, ice cream is still the most divine thing on Earth.”

The employee blinks. “Uh… okay.”

The lady begins rummaging through her pouch, muttering about mercury retrograde and the stock market.

You exchange a glance with Riki, both frozen halfway in your previous moment.

But just as you start to turn back to your ice cream—

SNAP.

Her head swivels.

Not turns.

Swivels.

Like an owl.

Eyes land directly—uncannily—on you and Riki.

Riki’s hand is still hovering by your hair.

Then—

“YOU TWO!”

The entire shop goes silent.

Plastic spoons stop mid-scoop. Even the freezer hums quieter.

Your mouth opens.

Closes.

You can feel Riki’s fingers freeze in the air beside your cheek.

The old woman marches toward your table with dramatic flair, boots clinking with every step.

“Such. An. Adorable. Couple,” she declares, pointing a jeweled finger at both of you.

Your brain short circuits.

Riki doesn’t move.

You blurt, “We’re not—!”

Riki calmly says, “We are.”

You whip your head to him. “Riki!”

He tilts his head. “What?”

“No!”

“Yes.”

“We’re not—!”

“We are.”

“Riki, this isn’t funny—!”

“I’m not laughing.”

You glare.

He sips from your ice water.

The woman claps once. “Delightful tension. Perfect balance of denial and devotion.”

You blink. “Excuse me?!”

She lifts her pouch. “For fifty yen, I’ll tell you your future together.”

Riki raises an eyebrow. “Together?”

“Obviously,” she says, like that was a dumb question.

You put your hands up. “That’s really not necessary—”

Clink.

You hear it before you see it.

Riki’s already dropped a coin in her hand.

You stare at him, wide-eyed. “Why would you—?!”

“She looked like she needed ice cream.”

“She wants to tell us our future.”

Riki shrugs. “Same difference.”

You grab your head.

“Don’t worry, child,” the woman says, ignoring your visible spiritual breakdown. “I’ll be gentle. But honest.”

Oh god.

She sets her pouch down. Pulls out a deck of battered cards that smell faintly of cinnamon and old library books.

“Hands,” she says.

Riki immediately offers his palm.

You don’t.

Until she looks at you with such intensity you feel your ancestors flinch.

You slowly extend your hand beside his.

She lays one finger on each of your wrists.

Closes her eyes.

Murmurs something in a language that sounds like static and ocean waves.

Then—

“You’ve met before.”

You frown. “What?”

“In another life,” she says. “You’ve done this before.”

You glance at Riki.

He’s not looking at the woman.

He’s still watching you.

“One of you always waits,” she says, “and one of you always forgets.”

Your chest tightens.

Riki’s expression doesn’t shift. But his grip on the table does—just slightly.

“And when you meet again,” she continues, “one will remember too much, and the other will remember too late.”

You whisper, “What does that mean?”

She smiles.

Mysterious.

Unhelpful.

Terrifying.

Then claps her hands together. “That’s all!”

You both blink.

“That’s it?” Riki asks.

“I have ice cream to buy,” she replies, already spinning on her heel.

“But you barely said anything—!”

“Fate doesn’t like spoilers.”

Then she’s gone.

Vanishing into the sticky air, pouch bouncing against her hip.

You stare at the empty space where she stood, stunned.

Riki leans back, finally letting out a small breath.

“That was weird,” he says.

You turn to him, exasperated. “You agreed with her!”

“Did I?”

“Riki—”

He reaches for your cup again, taking another bite of your ice cream.

“Still good,” he murmurs.

You slam your head on the table.

“Someone please reset the simulation.”

“You wasted your money,” you mutter through a mouthful of caramel and frustration, stabbing your ice cream like it insulted your intelligence.

Riki doesn’t look fazed. “No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did,” you snap back, jabbing your spoon into the cup again.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes!”

Riki goes quiet. Entirely. That kind of calm silence he weaponizes so effortlessly it could be patented. He doesn’t even blink, doesn’t move—just stares at you with that unreadable look.

You smirk slightly, biting the edge of your spoon. “That’s what I thought.”

Internally, you throw confetti. You imagine a stadium erupting. You do a small, smug little dance in your head with cartoon fireworks going off behind you. One point to Y/N. Finally. Finally, you’ve out-talked Nishimura Riki in a debate.

You lift another spoonful of ice cream to your mouth, reveling in the sugary taste of victory.

And then—

“…No.”

You pause mid-chew.

It’s not loud. Not defensive. Not even tired.

Just flat.

Emotionless.

Cold, calm, and final.

Like an AI responding to a question it doesn’t care enough to explain.

You look at him—really look. He’s gazing down at his drink, then casually meeting your stare with the most deadpan expression you’ve ever seen on a human face.

Your internal victory music dies.

Your spoon lowers.

And then, mortifyingly—

Your brain asks itself the worst question possible.

Why do I find that attractive?

You blink. Shake your head. You’re not doing this. You are absolutely not letting one stupid line from one stupid boy with one stupidly nice face ruin your entire emotional ecosystem.

You huff and shove another bite of strawberry into your mouth, this one aggressively piled high, like maybe if you eat enough sugar fast enough, it’ll drown your thoughts.

But it doesn’t help.

Because when you glance up again—

He’s staring at you.

Again.

Not blinking.

Not even pretending to look somewhere else.

And not like he’s judging you, no.

Like he’s watching something that belongs to him and no one else.

You choke.

You literally, physically choke on your ice cream. A small sputter escapes your mouth as your eyes go wide and watery.

You slap a hand over your mouth, turning away slightly, trying to swallow the cold back down without dying in public.

Riki sits up a little straighter, alarmed but visibly trying not to look alarmed. His head tilts just slightly, mouth twitching like he’s trying to hold in a laugh. He leans forward across the table as if to help—and you panic.

Your hand shoots out.

Spoon still loaded.

Before you can stop yourself, you scoop a fat chunk of matcha and shove it directly into his mouth.

Right in the middle of whatever quiet breath he was about to take.

His eyes go wide, arms flinching at the sudden cold. His throat works awkwardly as he tries to swallow, but he’s coughing, half-laughing, half-dying.

You stab your spoon toward him again. “Don’t. Stare.”

He coughs harder, grabbing the table for support.

You watch him nearly dissolve into a spluttering mess, and something awful and triumphant rises in your chest. Something victorious. Something evil.

Riki finally swallows with visible effort, sits back, and—still coughing—raises a single hand in the weakest, most sarcastic thumbs-up you’ve ever seen.

You try not to smile.

You fail miserably.

Internally, it’s full victory mode again. You’re mentally moonwalking through a line of backup dancers. There’s a spotlight on your face, a tiara on your head, and a massive neon sign flashing: “SHE WINS THIS ROUND.”

And for the first time in the entire conversation, Riki doesn’t argue.

He just clears his throat softly and looks away—eyes a little glassy, cheeks just slightly pink from cold and embarrassment.

You take another calm, dainty spoonful, the picture of innocence.

“Serves you right,” you murmur.

He glances at you.

Your lips twitch.

And he actually smiles.

Not a smirk. Not that vague half-exhale he usually does.

A real smile.

And you hate how much you like it.

-

You’ve officially survived the ice cream. All of it. Every last swirl, dollop, and suspiciously large scoop that Riki ordered “just in case.”

No brain freeze.

No choking.

Well—okay, one choking incident, but that was because of him, not the dessert.

You lean back in your seat with a triumphant little sigh, licking the last trace of caramel off your spoon. Your stomach is full. Your heart’s still on the fritz. And for once, your thoughts are quiet. Until tomorrow, at least. You’ll probably wake up with a sugar hangover and a mild cold, but that’s future-you’s problem.

Right now, it’s warm inside the ice cream shop, the buzz of soft indie pop fading beneath the gentle hum of the freezers. Most of the other students have cleared out. The shop is winding down. The outside world feels like it’s wrapped in a thin, glowing curtain of late-evening calm.

You stretch your legs under the table, feeling your joints protest after sitting so long. Riki hasn’t spoken in the last minute or two—not since you attacked him with frozen sugar. He’s gone still again. Not in a weird way, just… observing. Quiet. Thoughtful.

You glance up—and realize he’s no longer looking at you.

He’s looking at your bag.

Or more specifically, the two little shapes peeking from the partially open zipper of your tote: one small ceramic bunny and one equally lopsided hamster.

Uh-oh.

Before you can say a word, he reaches over and gently pulls both out. You freeze, spoon midair. He sets the bunny pot down first, a bit unceremoniously, and then the hamster next to it—his, the one he made.

They sit side by side on the table between you. Two small creatures. One absurdly cute. One… artistically unique.

You stare.

Then look at him.

He’s staring at the pots.

And then—he turns his head.

His gaze lands on you.

Steady. Direct. Expression unreadable.

“Which one do you like more?” he asks.

You blink.

“What?”

He doesn’t repeat himself. Just waits. Eyes steady. One hand drumming the faintest rhythm on the table.

“I—what kind of question—?”

“Just answer.”

You stare at the pots again. The bunny, made with love and about seventeen ounces of chaotic energy. And the hamster, perfectly sized and suspiciously accurate to something you once dreamed about years ago.

You open your mouth to speak—

And then he leans back in his seat.

Still looking at the table. Voice soft. A little quieter.

“I thought you liked hamsters more.”

There’s no accusation in his tone. No pout. No teasing.

But something shifts.

You blink at him.

And for one tiny, tiny moment—as fast as a blink, barely more than a twitch—you think you see it.

A pout.

So small it almost doesn't exist.

So quick you wonder if it was just a flicker of shadow on his lips.

But it’s there.

And you’re not okay.

Your entire brain short-circuits.

You look at him, stunned, because this isn’t the Riki who plays it cool. This isn’t the Riki who always wins, always smirks, always walks ahead like the whole world’s a game he already solved.

This is Riki with a tiny pout, sulking over a flower pot.

And that’s somehow worse.

You blink several times, as if trying to shake him out of high-definition. You fumble with your spoon, glance at the hamster, then the bunny, then back to him.

“You made that,” you murmur finally, pointing to the hamster. “You actually made it.”

He doesn’t look up. Just says quietly, “I was gonna add little cheeks, but they cracked in the oven.”

“Cheeks,” you repeat weakly.

He shrugs.

You take a deep breath.

“Okay,” you say finally. “I do like hamsters more.”

He lifts his head.

And looks straight at you.

The pout disappears—if it was ever even there to begin with.

But something in his eyes relaxes.

You swear you see the tension leave his shoulders. The line of his jaw softens. His thumb, resting on the edge of the table, stops tapping.

You glance down at the pots again. Side by side. Bunny and hamster. One gift from chaos. One from a boy who pretends he doesn’t feel things but clearly does.

You lift the hamster and carefully tuck it back into your tote. Then pick up the bunny, holding it gently in both hands.

“I’ll still keep this one,” you say. “Kaoru gave it to me with a very dramatic backstory.”

Riki raises an eyebrow.

“He fell. Saved the pot. Nearly died.”

“Classic.”

“But,” you add quickly, giving him a pointed look, “I didn’t choke on his pot.”

He exhales through his nose, the ghost of a laugh.

You smile.

And tuck the bunny back beside the hamster, making sure they don’t knock together.

When you look up again, Riki is watching you—but not the same way as before.

Not with that intense, soul-stealing stare.

This time, it’s quieter.

Gentler.

And maybe—just maybe—a little proud.

-

You’re still holding the hamster pot in your hands, thumb brushing over the painted eyes, when your brain finally catches up to something odd.

Wait a second.

You frown, glancing at him again.

“Hang on. You were at the scavenger hunt booth all day.”

Riki looks up lazily. “Yeah?”

“So…” You gesture to the hamster. “When did you even make this?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Just watches you for a beat. Then says, like it’s the most boring fact on earth:

“I made it three months ago.”

You blink. “What.”

He shifts slightly in his seat. “I went to a pottery learning class with my mom, so I made it there.”

You stare at him. “Three months ago?”

“Mm.”

You squint. “Three. Whole. Months?”

He nods once, calm.

Your voice rises just a little. “Why?”

He shrugs again. “Thought you might like it.”

You set the pot down gently like it’s now made of glass.

“You made me a hamster pot three months ago and just happened to bring it today?”

“Yup.”

You blink. “Why today?”

“I don’t know,” he says, which means he does know.

You shake your head slowly, mouth parting. “You’ve been holding on to this for three months?”

He tilts his head slightly, eyes flicking to yours with the softest expression—half smug, half something else.

“I don’t throw away things that matter,” he says.

You want to melt into the table.

You want to flip it and flee.

You do neither.

You just sit there, blinking at him like an NPC with a broken dialogue loop.

Because what do you even say to that?

What can you say?

He made a pot.

Three months ago.

Just in case.

And now it’s here.

On the table.

Between you.

And it’s not just ceramic anymore.

It’s proof.

That something’s been simmering under Riki’s silence all this time.

And now you’re the one who can’t stop staring.

-

The walk home is quiet.

Not because there’s nothing to say.

But because—for once—you don’t need to say anything.

The air has cooled down a little, the sky now dipped in that post-festival lavender haze. Lanterns are still glowing faintly across the street, their light blinking like low stars strung between wires. Riki walks beside you, hands in his pockets, your bag swinging gently over his shoulder.

You glance up at him a few times, catching only the side of his face under the dim streetlamps. He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t glance back. But somehow, it’s not awkward. There’s no tension. No pressure.

It’s just… calm.

Still.

Comfortable.

And you hate how that makes your chest feel like a balloon about to pop.

You mentally slap yourself.

Ew. Stop it. Delusional. Get a grip, Y/N. This is not romantic. You’re just full of sugar and brain fog.

Still, the silence lingers in a way that feels natural. Like maybe this walk home was always supposed to be this quiet. Like the kind of silence that only happens when someone doesn’t feel the need to fill it.

You reach the bus stop just before the streetlight blinks on above your heads, its warm glow stretching into a little circle on the pavement. The bench is empty. The air smells faintly of pavement, clean soap, and whatever lingering scent is stuck to Riki’s hoodie.

You sit.

He leans back against the railing behind you.

Neither of you says anything.

And for a moment—just a moment—you think maybe this is the end of the day. Quiet. Soft. Uncomplicated.

That’s when a pair of heels clicks against the pavement like a sound effect that doesn’t belong to your world.

You both turn your heads.

A girl approaches, walking like she owns the sidewalk.

Long, straight black hair tucked behind one ear. School cardigan slung around her shoulders instead of worn properly. Gloss on her lips that catches the light. Her bag looks designer. Her eyes look familiar.

Too familiar.

Then you remember.

Reina.

Reina Nakagawa.

Middle school. The girl who always hung around the back gate after soccer practice. The one who once wrote “Riki ♥ Reina” on a whiteboard and tried to pretend it was a joke. The one whose parents moved her to some all-girls academy halfway across the city.

Apparently, she’s back.

And worse, she’s walking directly toward you.

“Oh my god,” she says with a laugh that sounds like static through velvet. “Riki?”

Your spine straightens.

Riki shifts but doesn’t speak.

Reina stops a few feet away, head tilted, eyes glossy with surprise—and something else. Her gaze barely touches you before flicking back to Riki, a smile creeping onto her lips.

“I didn’t even know you still lived around here,” she says, mock-pouting. “You’ve gotten so hot.”

Your eyebrows hit your hairline.

Riki says nothing.

She steps a little closer, ignoring you entirely. “You were cute back then, but now? Total glow-up. Seriously.” Her eyes finally flick to you—up, then down, then up again. Her expression shifts.

You know that look.

Girls like Reina don’t need to say much. The face says it all.

The subtle wrinkle of her nose.

The slow scan.

The faint twitch of her lip that’s trying too hard not to turn into a full grimace.

Then she turns back to Riki, tilting her head with theatrical sympathy.

“…And you’re stuck babysitting?”

You freeze.

What.

Reina gestures vaguely in your direction, all faux concern. “I mean, you could be literally anywhere right now. And you’re… here.”

You blink once.

Twice.

Babysitting?

You open your mouth, the shock finally punching through your system. “Excuse me—”

But before you can say another word—

Riki shifts beside you.

Not a flinch. Not a sudden movement.

Just… a pause.

His shoulders square just slightly.

His expression doesn’t change.

But the air does.

And he still doesn’t say anything.

Yet.

The air stills.

Reina’s words hang between you like bad perfume—sweet on the surface, sour underneath.

Babysitting.

You blink, lips parting. The weight of the insult presses hot against your chest, like embarrassment and fury decided to hold hands and climb into your lungs. You open your mouth—ready to defend yourself, maybe say something equally venomous—but then you hear it:

Riki’s voice.

Low. Even.

Like water just about to freeze.

“I’m not babysitting.”

Reina’s smugness falters for half a second.

Riki doesn’t stop.

“She’s not as self-centered as you.”

His tone doesn’t rise.

Doesn’t sharpen.

If anything, it softens. The way cold air softens right before it bites your skin.

Reina freezes. Her expression shifts—but not fast enough to recover. The hit lands. Quiet. Brutal.

You stare at Riki, stunned. The chill in his voice, the calmness in his jaw, the fact that he even said anything at all—it takes you a second to register that you’re gripping the edge of the bench.

Reina’s jaw tightens, but she can’t respond.

Because that’s when the bus rumbles around the corner.

Like fate timed its arrival just to end this scene.

The headlights sweep over the pavement. The brakes hiss as it slows beside the curb. A handful of other students begin lining up, unaware that a silent war just took place in the shadows.

Riki turns to you.

And without a word, takes your hand.

Not rushed. Not showy.

Just… natural.

You feel your heart thump once, sharply, in your chest.

And then he steps toward the bus.

But not before glancing back one last time.

Just as Reina’s fingers twitch toward her phone, like she might try to regain control of the moment—

Riki tilts his head slightly.

“There’s a huge brown stain on the back of your shirt, Reina.”

She freezes.

“And the price tag’s still on.”

A beat of silence.

“I’d suggest you take care of that.”

Then, with the faintest nod—barely even a shrug—

“My pleasure.”

And with that, he steps onto the bus, still holding your hand, not sparing her another glance.

You follow, dazed, stepping into the cool, humming quiet of the aisle.

Behind you, Reina doesn’t speak.

She can’t.

Because Riki didn’t just win.

He obliterated her.

With five sentences and no raised voice.

You slide into a seat beside him.

Still gripping his hand.

Still hearing that quiet, lethal tone in your head.

Still trying to breathe.

-

You don’t say anything when he leads you onto the bus.

He doesn’t, either.

But his hand stays around yours, like he doesn’t trust the world not to try again.

He doesn’t look back.

Not at Reina.

Not at the others.

Just walks.

Deliberate. Steady. Like his presence alone is enough to keep everything else out.

When you both step into the aisle, your fingers are still tangled in his.

But then—

Riki stops.

Just two steps before the seat you always take. The one two rows from the back. The one by the window where you like to pretend no one sees you scrolling through photos of your cat and reading romance webtoons with brightness turned all the way down.

You look at him, confused.

And he looks at you—

Not with the same unreadable face he wears like armor.

But something quieter.

Something that almost feels like—

Regret.

Without a word, he gently sets your tote bag down on the seat.

Then, slowly, his hand rises—

And rests on top of your head.

Not ruffling.

Not playful.

Just… resting.

Like he’s telling your brain to calm down.

Like he knows it won’t.

He pats once.

You feel your heart nearly lurch out of your chest.

And then he lets go.

Steps back.

And walks down the aisle.

Two rows behind you.

To the last seat on the bus.

His seat.

He wanted to sit with you.

God, he wanted to.

Every bone in his body was screaming to stay beside you. To finish what he started with that hair tuck earlier. To sit shoulder-to-shoulder and maybe even risk another ice cream spoon if you looked too pretty thinking again.

But he doesn’t.

Because you looked like you were about to combust on that sidewalk.

Because Reina’s voice was still echoing in your chest.

Because he knows—somehow—that if he sat beside you now, your whole system would crash.

So he sits back.

Lets the space exist.

Lets you breathe.

Even if it’s killing him.

The engine hums. The driver calls out the next stop.

He watches your silhouette—just the back of your head, the way your shoulder shifts when you adjust your bag. He notices you sit straighter when you’re thinking. Slouch slightly when you’re tired.

He stares out the window.

Then at your reflection in the glass.

He lets himself want.

Quietly.

Safely.

From two rows behind.

And doesn’t say a word.

-

You don’t look back at him on the bus.

Not even once.

Not when your brain is replaying that head pat like it was a physical download of every feeling he’s never said out loud. Not when your hands are still warm from the way he let go. Not even when you think you feel his eyes on the back of your neck.

You keep your head resting against the window. Watch the blur of houses and traffic lights. Pretend your stomach isn’t in knots. Pretend your brain isn’t building a wall of thoughts and then immediately setting it on fire.

This is fine.

Everything is normal.

You’re just sitting two seats ahead of Nishimura Riki, the boy who gave you a hamster-shaped pot and saved you from verbal annihilation and held your hand and then pat your head like you were something he didn’t want to crush.

It’s fine.

Totally.

Fine.

The bus slows near the turn.

Your stop.

The street is dark but familiar. Home. Still. The corner where the vending machine flickers. The small sidewalk crack you once tripped over in third grade. Your houses stand on opposite sides of the same fence.

You stand first.

Grab your bag.

Still don’t look back.

Riki doesn’t call to you.

But you hear his footsteps behind yours anyway.

You both step off the bus in silence. The doors close with a soft hiss. The bus pulls away.

It’s just the two of you now.

Same as always.

Except not.

The walk is quiet. But it isn’t empty.

The space between you feels charged. Every step echoes a little too loud in your ears. You don’t talk. Neither does he. But somehow you match pace, as if your feet have already memorized how to walk home together without needing to speak.

You glance sideways once.

He’s got one hand in his pocket. His head tilted slightly down. Eyes forward. Shoulders relaxed but... not really. There’s a twitch in his fingers. A small one. Like his hand is fighting the urge to reach for something again.

You grip your tote bag tighter.

Don’t say anything.

The houses come into view. His on the left, yours on the right, separated by the small gravel path you used to call “neutral territory” when you were kids. You’d meet there after school, trade candy, homework complaints, weird bug facts. Well it was always you talking, he would just listen, like he always does, and nod on rare occasions. You thought he found you annoying, so you just stopped talking to him.. yeah, that’s how you became strangers. You never knew how much he loved your voice, your continuous yapping, how much he told Konon about you, how he remembers everything you say, said, look at, ok that’s creepy. Let’s stop here. Just one last think, just know that Riki never found you annoying.

Now?

You stop at the fork.

Both of you just… stand.

For a second too long.

The silence now feels more like a pause than a lack.

He turns to you—finally.

You look up.

He doesn’t say much.

He never does.

But his eyes flick to your bag.

Then to your face.

Then back down.

“…Don’t drop it,” he says, voice low.

You blink. “What?”

He nods slightly at your tote. “The pot.”

Your lips part—somewhere between a laugh and a gasp.

You open your mouth to reply, but he’s already turned.

Taking the slowest first step toward his front gate.

Not fast. Not sharp.

Like maybe, if you said something—anything—he’d stop again.

But you don’t.

Not tonight.

You just stand there, watching his back.

The quiet closing in again.

And for the first time in a long time, the silence doesn’t feel comfortable anymore.

It feels like it’s hiding something you’re not brave enough to say.

You’re still standing at the fork, right between his house and yours, when the words escape before your brain can stop them.

“Oh, and—uh.” You grip your bag tighter. “The bracelet.”

Riki glances at you, one brow raised.

You clear your throat. “You also gave me a bracelet, remember? From my booth? That you bought with your own money… even though it was literally my booth.”

He says nothing. Just watches you with that unreadable expression again.

You roll your eyes but smile softly. “Thanks. For that too.”

And then, as if some hidden part of you wants to betray you completely, you hear yourself add:

“I’ll make something for you.”

Silence.

You blink.

Your soul ejects from your body.

“I—” You slap a hand over your mouth. “Wait—no—forget I said that—”

But it’s too late.

You’re already spinning on your heel.

Already speed-walking toward your front door, nearly tripping over your own thoughts.

“See you tomorrow!” you call out—too loud, too flustered, too everything.

You don’t look back. You’re sticky, glitter-covered, exhausted, and about two beads of sweat away from declaring the DIY charm booth a crime scene. You’re sticky, glitter-covered, exhausted, and about two beads of sweat away from declaring the DIY charm booth a crime scene. You’re sticky, glitter-covered, exhausted, and about two beads of sweat away from declaring the DIY charm booth a crime scene. You’re sticky, glitter-covered, exhausted, and about two beads of sweat away from declaring the DIY charm booth a crime scene.

Not once.

Behind you, Riki blinks once.

Then exhales through his nose.

A smile curls at the corners of his lips.

Not smug.

Just quietly delighted.

He watches your front door click shut.

Then turns.

And walks inside his own.

-

[deathofacupid]

I love ur clay Jensen work please it’s so fucking good 😭🫶🏼

Could I get a clay Jensen with a depressed reader ? Like she has a traumatic past and it gets triggered because liberty Highschool is never peaceful and clay basically comforts her? If you see this THANKS 😻🫶🏼

it'll get better | clay jensen

a/n: thanks for the req! i was in a huge writing spunk, and this got me out of it. also, i'm sorry this took so long! summary: liberty is a hard place to be in, but it's a little less hard when clay is there. warning: thoughts/mentions of su1c1de, depression, and death. overall, all thirteen reasons why warnings apply here. please don't read this if you aren't comfortable with this fic's contents, and you if, by and means, get triggered, don't hesitate to reach out to me! pairing: depressed!reader x clay jensen (no established relationship, but take it as you will!) word count: 1.1k+ words

you press the palms of your hands into your eyes, hard enough that you see colorful spots. outside, on the back stairs of the school, you finally feel like you're getting a break. like the whole world isn't yelling at you, isn't taunting or shaming.

you're so tired of your mind constantly reeling, and dumb kids, and the horrible, horrible thoughts. so tired of hearing her story over and over and over again. even if it's so selfish for you to think like that, you wish someone, anyone would look past it and take a break from her.

from the very second you stepped into this school, you've been surrounded by pain, and death, and- and it never stops. why does it never stop?

is it just you? are you the only one who can't stand hearing more? seeing more? living more?

first, it was jeff. and then hannah. then bryce. then monty. and you can't help but feel like it'll get worse, and worse, and never better. you hate that everyone's leaving, even if they're people you don't care about.

and you're sick of it. you're tired. and god, it's not the kind that sleep can fixed, because you've tried. you've tried sleeping more. too much, really, but then you drown in nightmares.

and after the nightmares, it's not like you can go back to sleeping. and you don't meaning going back to sleep after an hour, no, not at all.

you mean days. you mean weeks. you mean months.

people die, and die, and die, and they only mourn for days, it feels like, and then the horrid, horrid jokes begin.

you wouldn't even be able to die in peace, knowing that they'd ridicule you.

no, no, no, you don't want to be a spectacle. you just want... to rest, indefinitely. why is it so hard to do that?

no, hannah wasn't a coward.

she was brave.

and you never knew her, but you knew her. you knew her in the way no one else might ever, because you are her. in a sad, sad way.

and you never knew her, but it still hurt. it hurt because you knew she was good. she was joy, at least for everyone else.

and you never knew her, but you knew clay. and you knew clay saw that joy.

and you never knew her, but it broke something in you.

you can faintly hear the sounds of the creak back door opening, despite the loud beating of your heart in your chest. there's some shuffling of sneakers on the grainy concrete, and you hear someone take a seat beside you.

you don't feel like looking up. maybe if you don't acknowledge their existence, they won't actually be there. right? a soft voice goes, "hey."

it's clay. you know it's clay. you can tell by the quiet, yet worried, lilt in his voice.

"hi," you mumble back, face still buried in your knees, which are pulled into your chest.

his uncanny awkwardness suffocates you more than anything else, (un?)surprisingly.

"are- are you okay?" he tries.

"yes." it's a mumbled, half-assed reply.

"are you sure?"

"yes."

it's quiet for a beat. then he throws you for a curve when he wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. he's warm and soft, and he smells like... tire grease?

what would he be smelling like tire grease for? was he at tony's? tony's garage, you mean? when would he have had time to be there? had he been skipping class, too? did he only just get back? but he came from inside, didn't he?

with clay, you should be used to having an plethora of questions, and tiny, quarter-built ant pile of answers.

you should be.

doesn't mean you are.

you would ask, but you're trying to avoid anything hannah-related. tony is definitely hannah-related. clay is hannah-related, too, but that's different. you could be by clay's side forever, and you wouldn't get sick of it.

it's really nice, just the two of you, pressed against each other in the cool autumn air. it's nice enough that you almost forget.

but you don't. you can't, not really. not when it's so predominant over anything else. that's what liberty high is. a place where all the bad things overpower the good ones.

when people think of liberty high, they think of death.

they think of unfortunate accidents. they think of suicide. they think of murder. they think of violence and violation.

and god, don't even get started on the tapes.

you hate the tapes. you hate the tapes more than you hate yourself, or more than you hate this terrible place. you hate the tapes more than you hate bryce, or monty, or any of those kids. more than you hate jessica, or alex, or tyler, or tony, or zach, or ryan, or skye, or chloe, or ani, or sheri, or courtney, or winston, or diego, or marcus, or cyrus.

and yes, you hate them, and yes, you know some of them don't deserve that, but no, you can't help it.

and you can't even just leave, because this will follow you around for the rest of your life and you'll never know what you did know - or maybe you did know.

and what truly, really sucks is that no matter where you go, all this follows you around. you've been surrounded by pain and hurt, and it never seems to get any better.

but if you told anyone any of this, they'd send you to a shitty ward, and that'd be it. and all your thoughts just keep going like this, around and around, like a twisted merry-go-round that keeps getting faster and faster. or like a spiral that never ends, but just gets tighter and tighter. and you don't even know if anything—

"will it ever get better?" you ask, a sort of shakiness in your voice.

"i don't know," he admits. "can it really get worse?"

it's rhetorical and you know it, but you answer anyways. "probably."

he then decides to change his answer. "it'll get better. it has to."

you hum, doubtful. he continues, "the way we treat each other. and the people who haven't been doing that right, they'll get outed. i know they will."

"how? what about the trial? remember that?" it's not supposed to be snarky, it's really just a genuine question.

"yeah. but he didn't really win. bryce got murdered. he got what he deserved." it's blunt, and you can't help but wince.

"what about the others? who hurt hannah?"

"they owned up to it, didn't they? they're okay with coming out with the truth, because they know what they did was wrong. bryce didn't. he took his win with stride, as if it was privilege."

"owning up or not, it doesn't change they fact that she'd dead," you murmur.

he's quiet again. "i guess not. but at least it won't happen again."

you think about yourself for a moment. "how do you know?"

"i don't. i just hope. because the better we get, the better things will get. there's always a reason to live. you just... have to look."

and so you do. you lift your head, and clay turns to face you. right into his deep eyes, and you know behind the demeanor he holds, they're full of love and compassion.

you look, and you see.

"okay," you say finally.

because maybe he's right. maybe things will get better. because you aren't alone, maybe not really.

and maybe you're allowed to acknowledge that it won't get better in just a day. or a week. or a month.

but there's a little bit of hope that it will get better.

and you have clay there with you. you trust him. you know there's truth in what he's saying. you know he'd never lie to you.

that being said, it'll get better.

[thememoryofadream]

Feet of Clay - Ch. 1/?

Characters: Dean Winchester x OC, Sam Winchester

Summary: On a hunt for something the Winchesters can't identify, Dean meets a woman who steals their case... Will she also steal his heart?

Word Count: 2179

Tags/Warnings: Canon-level violence descriptions. Set post S4-ish, but diverges from canon (Dean's been to Hell and back, but no angels).

Chapter 1 - The Word Is Spoken

It starts out like a murmur Then it grows like thunder Until it bursts inside of you Try to hold it steady Wait until you're ready Any second now will do Throw the door wide open Not a word is spoken Anything that you want to do "Wearing and Tearing" - Led Zepplin

24 HRS AGO

"Hey, honey, sorry I'm late!" Jeff Bloomington calls out as he kicks the front door shut behind him. "A client called just as I was getting ready to walk out the door, and you know how that goes…" He pauses, dropping his briefcase on the floor in the entry way. Not hearing a response, he moved further up the hall, peeking into the kitchen. Seeing no sign of his wife, he continues down the hall to their bedroom.

"Hey, Jena," he says, pushing the door open. "Geez, you always fuss at me for tracking in dirt, but you've got it all down the hall! Are you ready to get something to…Oh, my god, Jena, no!"

~~~SPN~~~

PRESENT DAY

Dean Winchester slips into the booth across from his brother, Sam. "Hey," he says, reaching for a menu, "did you see they have pigs in a blanket?"

Sam glances up from his laptop with a "not funny" look, and goes back to reading.

Dean chuckles, unrepentant. "Got a case for us yet?"

"I think so, yeah," Sam says as he turns the laptop to face Dean. "Last night, Madison, IN, a husband found his wife dead in their bedroom. She'd been strangled."

Dean skims over the newspaper article Sam pulled up. "Jena Bloomington, huh? Okay, so? Since when is it weird for a woman to be strangled in her home?"

"Well, she was covered in clumps of mud from their yard, and her neck was crushed," Sam says. "Like, practically crushed to bone dust."

Dean looks up from the plate of eggs and sausage that had arrived while they were talking. "Crushed into dust? That's a new one. Could a person do that? A normal person, I mean."

Sam shrugs and motions toward the computer. "Not according to my research, no. It takes an enormous amount of pressure to crush bone like that. Think the pressure of a wolf's jaw."

Dean whistles, shoveling another forkful of eggs in his mouth. "Okay, so not human. Sounds like our kinda gig. You said wolf's jaw…you're not thinking werewolf are you?"

"No, there was no other damage. The heart was intact, nothing else was touched. The weird thing is the mud."

"What's weird about mud?"

"Well, she was covered in it and it was tracked through the house. Straight path back to the bedroom. It came from their backyard, but they haven't had any rain in Madison in 3 weeks. No way should anyone have been able to drag that much into the house," Sam replies.

Dean shrugs, not necessarily seeing the connection. "What else? I know you've got something else…"

"She's the third person in Madison in less than two weeks to die the same way," Sam replies, a slight smile crossing his face.

Dean swallows his last bite of eggs and pushes the plate away. Standing, he tosses some bills on the table. "Alrighty then, Sammy, looks like we got a case! Let's hit the road."

~~~SPN~~~

Four hours later, Sam and Dean are knocking on the door of the Bloomington house, dressed in their standard issue FBI suits.

Jeff Bloomington answers the door, looking haggard. "Yes, can I help you?"

"Yes, Mr. Bloomington, I'm Agent Garcia and this is my partner, Agent McKernan," Sam says, as they both hold up their FBI "badges." "We're investigating your wife's death and we're hoping to ask you a few questions."

It seems to take a few seconds for Bloomington to absorb the information, but he finally steps back and gestures them inside. "Please, come in. I had no idea the FBI was interested in this case."

Seated in the living room and having declined coffee, Dean begins by asking about how Bloomington had found his wife.

"I came home late from work, around 7 PM, I think. We were supposed to go out to dinner, but I got a client call right as I was leaving," Jeff says, his eyes taking on a faraway look as he remembers. "I called out to her when I came in, but didn't get an answer. I walked down the hall and saw the clumps of mud. I said something about her complaining about me tracking mud in the house." He pauses for a moment, a sad smile on his lips. "When I opened the bedroom door, I saw her…" his voice cracks slightly, but he continues. "I saw her there on the floor. I thought maybe she'd fainted, but her head…"

Seeing the man's distress, Sam speaks up. "Yes, Mr. Bloomington, thank you. Um, can you think of anyone who might have wanted to hurt your wife? Someone she'd been having trouble with at work, maybe?"

Bloomington shakes his head, as much to dislodge the vision of his wife on the floor, neck twisted at that unnatural angle, as to answer the question. "No, not anyone that I can think of really."

"What did your wife do for a living, Mr. Bloomington?" Sam asks.

"She was a paralegal. Worked for a law firm here in town, Northingham, Grant," Jeff says. "But I can't imagine anyone there wanting to hurt Jena. She loved her job." He smiles again, the same sad smile he'd worn before. "She used to say she was using her powers for good instead of evil by helping the clients get justice."

Sam smiles gently and nudges Dean. "Would you mind if we had a look around, Mr. Bloomington? Just to get a feel for the scene?"

Jeff waves a hand toward the hallway. "Sure, go ahead. The bedroom is at the end of the hall on the right." He hesitates. "It's the way it was when the police left it. I haven't been able to go in there since…" His voice dies out as he swallows hard, dropping his gaze to the floor.

"That's ok, Mr. Bloomington," Sam replies, "we'll find our way."

The boys make their way down the hall to the bedroom and step inside. Dean surreptitiously pulls out the EMF meter, sweeping it around the room. "No EMF," he says, slipping the device back in his pocket, "so probably not a ghost."

Sam checks the window sills and around the door. "No sulfur, either. See any hex bags?"

"No, nothing in the bathroom. Did you check everything in here?" Dean says, moving out the master bath and back into the bedroom.

Sam drops the mattress back into place and dusts his hands off. "Nope, nothing."

Dean surveys the room, hands on his hips, trying to find something they or the police had missed. "Damn. Now what?"

Sam sighs. "I guess it's back to the motel for some more research. Maybe you could go down to the morgue and see what you can find out there."

Rolling his eyes, Dean strides out of the room. "Great, I get the dead bodies and you get to sit at the hotel and drink beer while you surf the web."

Sam snickers as he follows him out of the house and out to the car.

~~~SPN~~~

It's several hours later before Dean flips open the motel room door, slamming it behind him. He pulls at the knot on his tie, loosening it halfway, before tossing the files in his hand onto the table near Sam. Without saying a word, he walks to the mini-fridge, pulls out a beer, and knocks half of it back all at once.

Sam looks up from the book he's reading, eyebrow raised, a bemused smile on his face. "How'd it go with the coroner?"

"Oh, it was a freakin' blast, I'll tell you. Lookin' at a pretty young woman's head twisted mostly off her shoulders was exactly how I wanted to spend my afternoon." Dean flops back on the bed, beer dangling from one hand, as he flings his other forearm over his eyes.

Sobering, Sam flips through a few more pages in his book before tossing it aside. "Sorry."

"Well, I didn't get a whole lot more from the coroner, other than confirmation Jena Bloomington died the same way as the other two victims," Dean says, not moving the arm covering his eyes. "All of them were covered in mud from their own yards," he continues, "but no one's been able to figure out how it got there." The hand holding the beer gestures toward the files. "I was able to charm copies of the files out of the receptionist, though."

Sam shook his head, smothering a grin. "Of course you were," he says, picking up one of the files and glancing through it. He tosses it back on the table, rubbing his eyes. "We gotta figure out where this thing's gonna be next, Dean, or we're never gonna find out what it is."

"Bright idea, Edison, but how the hell are we gonna do that?" Dean snarks, sitting up and draining the last of the beer.

Rolling his eyes, Sam turns back to the files and books littering the table. "The answer has to be in these files somewhere. I don't think these victims are random, so we need to find the connection."

Dean sighs, standing to shrug off his suit jacket and beginning to unbutton his dress shirt. "Fine, let me get outta this monkey suit and I'll get my crystal ball so we can get on it."

~~~SPN~~~

"You know, if we get arrested, I am totally diming you out for whatever deal they'll give me," Dean hisses as he shifts for the hundredth time, trying to find a comfortable spot in the chilly dirt of Laura White's backyard.

"Shhhh," Sam hisses back. "You're going to get us arrested if you don't stop complaining and moving around."

Dean grunts, rolling his head side to side to release the kinks in his neck. They've been sitting in this woman's backyard for some two hours now. It's nearing 2 AM, it's cold, and there's no sign of anyone or anything. "Tell me again why you think she's the next victim…"

"Because, Dean, she fits the profile," Sam replies, shifting his own position so he can lean back against the white picket fence surrounding the backyard. "All three victims so far were young women, professional, and from this area," he says, ticking off the points on his fingers as he speaks. "They were also all clients of the local coffee shop and the local fitness center. I'm thinking someone at one of those places is responsible."

Dean merely grunts again, rubbing his hands together in an attempt to warm them. As he's opening his mouth to grumble at Sam again, there's a noise from near the front gate. The brothers look at each other briefly, then slip from their hiding place, moving as quietly as possible toward the sound.

Sam leads the way, gripping a sawed off shotgun loaded with rock salt tightly. Dean follows a few feet back, pearl handled pistol pointed down at his side. The noise from the front comes again, a low keening tone. As the brothers round the last set of hedges, Sam stops short at the sight in front of him, nearly causing Dean to fall over him.

"Damn it, Sam, what are you…" Dean's voice trails off as he catches sight of what caused his brother to stop so abruptly. "What the hell is…" But Dean doesn't get to finish his sentence before all hell breaks loose.

The whatever it was in front of them turns toward them when it hears their voices and starts to move in their direction, still making that same odd noise, something almost like a whale's song.

Dean shifts to Sam's side, aiming the pistol at the thing's head and pulling the trigger. The bullet sails right through the figure, shattering part of the fence behind it. "Not good, not good," he mutters as he aims and fires again, hoping to at least slow the creature.

He empties the clip, doing precisely zero damage. Sam raises his shotgun, but before he can get off a round of salt, another figure appears from the shadows.

The new figure swiftly approaches the creature from the front, reaches for what appeared to be its hand, and rubs it. Seconds later, the creature crumbles into a pile of dirt at the newcomer's feet.

Finally gathering his wits back about him, Dean flicks on his flashlight and points it and the newly re-loaded pistol at the intruder. A dark haired young woman, dressed in jeans and a heavy coat turns slowly, raising her hands in submission as she hears Dean ratchet a round into the chamber.

"Well, if it isn't the Winchesters," she says, a slightly mocking edge to her voice. "I didn't know you boys were in town."

A/N: I originally published this in Jan 2011 after doing a fair bit of binging re-runs on TNT. After watching the drama with Lisa, I decided Dean needed another hunter, not a civilian, and I came up with Sophia. You can follow along via the Masterlist for all chapters!

Feedback is love! ❤️

[take-it-on-the-run]

MSR Playlist

Fox Mulder x Dana Scully

"Even when the world was falling apart, you were my constant… my touchstone." "And you are mine."

MSR Masterlist | The X-Files Masterlist | Main Page Masterlist

A/N: I am without words. I have never screamed at my TV more for two characters to hold hands or kiss or something than I have for these two.

Back to the Old House // The Smiths

And you never knew; how much I really liked you; because I never even told you; oh, and I meant to

Me and Michael // MGMT

Me and Michael; as solid as they come

Lover's Rock // TV Girl

But if you're too drunk to drive, and the music is right; She might let you stay, but just for the night

The Night We Met // Lord Huron

I don't know what I'm supposed to do; haunted by the ghost of you

I Know It's Over // The Smiths

Oh mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head; see the sea wants to take me; the knife wants to slit me; do you think you can help me?

Star // Mitski

You know I'd always been alone; 'till you taught me; to live for somebody; that love is like a star; it's gone, we just see it shining

When You're Gone // The Cranberries

And in the night; I could be helpless; I could be lonely; sleeping without you; and in the day; everything's complex; there's nothing simple; when I'm not around you

Anemone // The Brian Jonestown Massacre

Now I'm missing you more; cause baby you're not around; now that you're not around

Lover, You Should've Come Over // Jeff Buckley

But tonight you're on my mind; so... you'll never know; broken down and hungry for your love; with no way to feed it

I Love You So // The Walters

I'm gonna pack my things and leave you behind; this feeling's old, and I know that I've made up my mind

Taking What's Not Yours // TV Girl

You know where to find me; and I know where to look

Alrighty Aphrodite // Peach Pit

If I'd known you sold on maybe; I'd let you waste another guy; well alrighty Aphrodite; go whip that red for other eyes

No. 1 Party Anthem // Arctic Monkeys

The look of love, the rush of blood; the "She's with me" is the Gallic shrug

I, Carrion (Icarian) // Hozier

I do not have wings, love, I never will; soarin' over a world you are carryin'

Andromeda // Weyes Blood

Looking up to the sky for something I may never find; stop calling; it's time to let me be; if you think you can save me; I'd dare you to try

Jackie and Wilson // Hozier

She's gonna save me, call me "baby"; run her hands through my hair; she'll know me crazy, soothe me daily; better yet she wouldn't care

Wondering Why // The Red Clay Strays

And I don't know what happened; but it sure don't add up on paper; but when I close my eyes late at night; you can bet I thank my maker

[scary-lasagna]

X-Mas ask! What would some of the creeps' ideal gifts be? What are they hoping to find beneath the tree this year? And alternatively, how likely are they to actually receive it? Happy holidays! <3

Their lists are much more expansive, but these are at the top of their list!

Jeff - New clothes. He’s been wearing his tattered attire for the past year now, and his bulletproof vest has more holes than a slice of Swiss.

Ben - New gaming headphones. The faux leather on his has been flaking off for a few months now, so he wants a better upgrade with better sound quality and such.

Eyeless Jack - Thermal clothes for winter hunting.

Seedeater - “mmmmmmmeat”

Nina - Victoria’s Secret giftcards

Sally - A bell from Santa’s sleigh

Tim - A vacation

Brian - New hunting equipment

Toby - Whatever merch features his most recent hyperfixation - this month it is crystals thanks to Jane

Kate - Something to throw at Brian when he’s annoying her about what she wants for Christmas

Clockwork - Whimsical jewlery

Jane - Textbooks about learning French

Lost Silver - A gaming chair. He’s always wanted one, and even though a beanbag is much more comfy, a gaming chair would definitely match the rest of his rooms aesthetic. Plus, Ben just makes it look cool.

Dark Link - Better gear. He earns a living off of tactical and stealth work, and his exterior armor is getting a little too gritty to be considered safe and quiet.

Jason - A magnetic bracelet for loose screws and the like while working

Laughing Jack - A book on Exotic beasts

Helen - Clay!!! And lots of it!!!

Puppeteer - Callus gloves for his hands

Slender - “Anything you’d think I’d like” Even though he talks nonstop about a pair of new cuff links and fancy bourbon.

Offender - “I dunno something cool like a blowtorch”

Trender - A vintage sewing machine and kit. He just thinks they’re so aesthetically pleasing.

Splendor - A nail polish set!

Zalgo - Universal Domination. If not available, store brand is fine.

[whitesinhistory]

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So the Republicans are trying to shut down the government to damage their own states so that they make the Democrats look bad before the election… Is that the game plan they’re going with?

Here is the full list of Republicans who voted against the stopgap bill to prevent a government shutdown in September 2024:

Indiana: James R. Baird, Jim Banks, Rudy Yakym III, Victoria Spartz

Ohio: Troy Balderson, Warren Davidson, Jim Jordan, Max L. Miller

Florida: Aaron Bean, Gus M. Bilirakis, Kat Cammack, Byron Donalds, Matt Gaetz, Anna Paulina Luna, Cory Mills, Bill Posey, Michael Waltz, Daniel Webster

Texas: Michael Cloud, Tony Gonzales, Lance Gooden, Morgan Luttrell, Nathaniel Moran, Chip Roy, Keith Self, Randy Weber Sr., Beth Van Duyne, Roger Williams

Arizona: Andy Biggs, Elijah Crane, Paul A. Gosar, Debbie Lesko, David Schweikert

North Carolina: Dan Bishop

Colorado: Lauren Boebert

Illinois: Mike Bost, Mary E. Miller, Darin LaHood

Oklahoma: Josh Brecheen

Tennessee: Tim Burchett, John W. Rose, Andrew Ogles

Missouri: Eric Burlison

Georgia: Andrew S. Clyde, Mike Collins, Marjorie Taylor Greene, Richard McCormick

Utah: John R. Curtis

South Carolina: Jeff Duncan, Russell Fry, Nancy Mace, Ralph Norman, William R. Timmons IV

Kansas: Ron Estes, Tracey Mann

Mississippi: Mike Ezell, Michael Guest, Trent Kelly

Iowa: Randy Feenstra

Minnesota: Brad Finstad, Michelle Fischbach

Idaho: Russ Fulcher

Virginia: Bob Good, H. Morgan Griffith

Wyoming: Harriet M. Hageman

Maryland: Andy Harris

Louisiana: Clay Higgins

Pennsylvania: John Joyce, Scott Perry

West Virginia: Alexander X. Mooney

California: Tom McClintock

Kentucky: Thomas Massie

Montana: Matthew M. Rosendale Sr.

New York: Claudia Tenney

Wisconsin: Thomas P. Tiffany, Derrick Van Orden

New Jersey: Jefferson Van Drew

Alabama: Barry Moore, Gary J. Palmer

Arkansas: Bruce Westerman

Why is this important to me? I would have been out of a job. Government contractors would rather cut you and rehire you for less pay or benefits. Also, if I miss 1 or 2 paychecks I will be homeless.

[mappingthemoon]

Movies/TV Watched 2024

Asteroid City (Wes Anderson, 2023)

Nomadland (Chloé Zhao, 2020)

Cordelia (Adrian Shergold, 2019)

The Piano (Jane Campion, 1993)*

Malcolm X (Spike Lee, 1992)*

Avatar (James Cameron, 2009)

Child’s Play (Tom Holland, 1988)*

Train (Gideon Raff, 2008)

Silent Hill (Christophe Gans, 2006)

Nam June Paik: Moon Is the Oldest TV (PBS American Masters) (Amanda Kim, 2023)

Past Lives (Celine Song, 2023)

Basic Instinct [Director’s Cut] (Paul Verhoeven, 1992)*

In Cold Blood (Richard Brooks, 1967)

What Lies Beneath (Robert Zemeckis, 2000)

Fellini Satyricon (Federico Fellini, 1969)

Significant Other (Dan Berk, Robert Olsen; 2022)

The Mimic (Huh Jung, 2017)

Extinction (Miguel Ángel Vivas, 2015)

The Visit (M. Night Shyamalan, 2015)

The Hole in the Ground (Lee Cronin, 2019)

Batman (Tim Burton, 1989)

Cronos (Guillermo del Toro, 1993)

Under the Skin (Jonathan Glazer, 2013)

Our Flag Means Death [szn 2] (2023)

Wes Craven Presents: They (Robert Harmon, 2002)

Carnival of Souls (Herk Harvey, 1962)

Leviathan (George P. Cosmatos, 1989)

Rick and Morty [szn 5] (2021)

Dark Skies (Scott Stewart, 2013)

Insidious: Chapter 2 (James Wan, 2013)*?

Insidious: Chapter 3 (Leigh Whannell, 2015)

Insidious: The Last Key (Adam Robitel, 2018)

Insidious: The Red Door (Patrick Wilson, 2023)

American Graffiti (George Lucas, 1973)*?

The Pope’s Exorcist (Julius Avery, 2023)

Independence Day (Roland Emmerich, 1996)*

Men in Black (Barry Sonnenfeld, 1997)*

The Exorcist (William Friedkin, 1973)*

Poor Things (Yorgos Lanthimos, 2023)

Angels & Insects (Philip Haas, 1995)*?

Tucker & Dale vs. Evil (Eli Craig, 2010)

The Purge (James DeMonaco, 2013)

4/20 Massacre (Dylan Reynolds, 2018)

The Fast and the Furious (Rob Cohen, 2001)

Poisoned Ground: The Tragedy at Love Canal (PBS American Experience) (Jamila Ephron, 2024)

Beetlejuice (Tim Burton, 1988)*

The Signal (William Eubank, 2014)

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice (Tim Burton, 2024)

The SpongeBob SquarePants Movie (Stephen Hillenburg, Mark Osborne; 2004)

Felix the Cat: The Movie (Tibor Hernádi, 1988)

Speak No Evil (James Watkins, 2024)

Kwaidan (Masaki Kobayashi, 1964)*?

The Portrait of a Lady (Jane Campion, 1996)

Sisters with Transistors (Lisa Rovner, 2020)

Holy Smoke! (Jane Campion, 1999)

Shock Treatment (Jim Sharman, 1981)*

Space: The Longest Goodbye (Ido Mizrahy, 2023)

House of Wax (Jaume Collet-Serra, 2005)

The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (Bill Melendez, 1979)*

Wojnarowicz: F**k You F*ggot F**ker (Chris McKim, 2020)

Longlegs (Osgood Perkins, 2024)

O Brother, Where Art Thou? (Joel Coen, 2000)*

Tess (Roman Polanski, 1979)

Barbarian (Zach Cregger, 2022)

Home Alone (Chris Columbus, 1990)*

Jennifer’s Body (Karyn Kusama, 2009)

Rick and Morty [szn 6] (2022)

The Seeding (Barnaby Clay, 2024)

Edward Scissorhands (Tim Burton, 1990)*

Beatles ’64 (David Tedeschi, 2024)

Fanatical: The Catfishing of Tegan and Sara (Erin Lee Carr, 2024)

Raggedy Ann & Andy: A Musical Adventure (Richard Williams, 1977)*

Rick and Morty [szn 7] (2023)

Five Nights at Freddy’s (Emma Tammi, 2023)

Immaculate (Michael Mohan, 2024)

Freaknik: The Wildest Party Never Told (P. Frank Williams, 2024)

The Booksellers (D. W. Young, 2019)*

His House (Remi Weekes, 2020)

Time Cut (Hannah MacPherson, 2024)

Don’t Move (Adam Schindler, Brian Netto; 2024)

Carry-On (Jaume Collet-Serra, 2024)

Subservience (S. K. Dale, 2024)

The Muppet Christmas Carol (Brian Henson, 1992)*

May December (Todd Haynes, 2023)

Horse Girl (Jeff Baena, 2020)

Psycho (Alfred Hitchcock, 1960)*

Movies/TV watched 2024; asterisks * are rewatches, asterisks w/question marks *? are rewatches I couldn’t remember having seen before but had a vague sense of familiarity and/or I found evidence of watching elsewhere in my archive. Struck titles were unfinished (I absolutely loved the book In Cold Blood but dozed off a bunch during the movie; Under the Skin seemed promising but I had to turn it off because I could NOT emotionally deal with the baby on the beach.)

This year I treated myself to some old weird nostalgia movies on VHS (YouTube or Internet Archive links provided when available). We have a decent collection of thrifted DVDs and we borrow a lot of movies from the library. Occasionally I’ll sign up for a month of a streaming service if there’s something ~exclusive~ we want to watch, and then we’ll end up watching whatever horror garbage is offered. Honestly, I think “meh, it was okay” was my main reaction to a lot of the movies I watched this year? Kind of a bummer.

Favorites in 2024: BEETLEJUICE BEETLEJUICE!!!!! I just loved everything about it :D I thought it was aesthetically the right amount of Tim Burton without being *too much* Tim Burton, ya know? (Love movie environments that feel like a dark ride!) Beetlejuice is a forever favorite, one of my earliest “crushes” (proving that I have absolutely never had good taste in men & that as early as age 4 I yearned for a witty dirtbag prankster to show up and “promptly whisk [me] off from [my] ordinary life into wacky adventures in the land of the dead” [description from the box set of the animated series, yikes lmao; my other fave beginning around this time was Doctor Who lol, obvious underlying theme is obvious]). ANYway, BJ BJ was also the first movie we saw in theatres post-covid! Not necessarily due to covid-related concerns, but just like, idk, being busy and frugal homebodies. And I guess since more theatres are offering restaurant food nowadays, they’re making it more difficult to sneak food in (no bags allowed), booooo.

Other faves: Asteroid City (I’m not usually a Wes Anderson person but this was visually stunning), His House, Poor Things. The Seeding was pretty wild, if heavy-handed. Tho I kind of thought *everything* about male/female relationships in horror movies I saw this year was getting pretty heavy-handed :/ Sisters with Transistors was a cool documentary about women (Delia Derbyshire, Daphne Oram, Wendy Carlos, Pauline Oliveros, et al.) in the early days of electronic music, dreamily narrated by Laurie Anderson (*heart-eyes*). Beatles ’64 was surprisingly okay! I *really* appreciated the interviews with people who were young Beatlemaniacs back in the ‘60s, hearing (mostly) women talk about how the Beatles represented a new way of being masculine, how liking the Beatles could provide a sense of agency for women navigating their own desires, etc. That was a cool perspective which I do not personally encounter very often in the Beatles cinematic universe. (For background: My two most recent long-term relationships have been with indie musicians who just happen to be extremely obsessed with the Beatles, so I’ve spent the past 17+ years absorbing deep dives about how great they are, and while I like many of their songs and Understand Their Position of Importance in the History of Pop/Rock/Human Culture, I just do not give a fuuuck on a personal level. But I do still begrudgingly respect my partner’s interest enough to occasionally watch a Beatles documentary with him.)

[junkpuppet225]

note: Clay just wants to move on from the last four years at Liberty but what happens when he meets Ava? What happens when he realizes she may be everything he’s ever wanted?

Clay

I just want to forget. About Hannah, Justin, Jeff. Fucking Monty and Bryce. All of it. I buried that shit back in Crestmont with Hannah’s tapes and I’m starting fresh here at Brown. The world is my oyster or some shit so I’m not sure why I was rude to the girl sitting across of me in my economics lecture but when she finally found the nerve to speak to me I barely looked her way, mumbling a gruff hello before nodding to the professor who hadn’t even started speaking yet. I spent the rest of the day picturing her surprised blue eyes and the pout that fell to her soft lips, my harsh greeting leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

Despite my sour mood I was taken back at how pretty she is - long blonde hair cascading past her shoulders in soft waves, blue eyes that almost looked gray - blunt white teeth sinking into her full bottom lip as she waited patiently for me to acknowledge her. Why was I such a dick to her? College was about meeting new people - making new friends and I brushed her off like a complete asshole.

I fall in love with girls to fast and to hard and I don’t want to make the same mistakes from high school here. I don’t want to fall in love again - ever - you just open yourself up to more pain and suffering and I’ve had enough of that shit for a lifetime.

So why did I dream about gun metal blue eyes last night?

The next morning I’m silently willing her to turn around so I can apologize for yesterday - so I can see her eyes again. I study each shiny strand of her white blonde hair idly wondering if it’s as soft as it looks then I push myself back in my chair with a quiet groan. To fast and to hard.

I’m pathetic.

I tap my pencil on the edge of my book desperate to get her attention, sitting up straighter when she finally glances behind herself and meets my panicked eyes. “Hi, um. I’m sorry about yesterday. I was rude.” I’m completely fucked up. You need to run screaming in the opposite direction of me - I will ruin your fucking life. “I’m Clay. Jensen.”

The smile that lights up her face pulls me forward as a rush of adrenaline fills my chest and forces me to glance away quickly. To hard and to fast.

“Hi Clay Jensen. I’m Ava. It’s nice to meet you.”

It won’t be. Nothing nice or good will ever come from meeting me.

X

You really do have a thing for complicated girls.

Except Ava isn’t complicated. She’s not self-centered or seeking anyone’s validation. She’s cool in the simplest way. Although I wouldn’t call her a friend we’ve shared some notes after class a few times in the two weeks but she doesn’t linger - giving me all the rope I need to hang myself with. I wince at the analogy and glance up from my notebook - meeting blue gray eyes and a smile that could stop a train.

“Do you want to do something after class? Like go get food or coffee?”

The thought of spending time with her outside of this classroom sends a thrill through me that quickly turns to fear. First it’s coffee, then a movie and then you’re helplessly in love with someone who doesn’t feel the same way. Who’s just looking to have fun in college. I push the thought of Heidi from my mind and force a smile. “Um, I actually have to uh. I’ve got to—-.”

“Clay, you can just say no. It’s fine.” Ava assures me, her smile never wavering as she stands to gathers her things, brushing a strand of blonde hair from her face as our eyes meet again. There’s no sign of disappointment on her pretty face, just understanding and acceptance - two things completely foreign to me. “Uh, no. I mean, yes. Shit. Can I get a rain check?”

A soft laugh rushes from her chest as she nods and turns to another classmate offering them the same invitation and my heart sinks into the pit of my stomach as they accept the offer with grace. Only an idiot would pass up the opportunity to spend time with her. What the fuck is wrong with me?

“See you later Clay.”

I can’t will my eyes to look away as she disappears out the door with a group of girls taking her amazing smile with her.

X

I thought I knew weird. Hell I thought I was weird but my college roommate is fucking weird. Like hiding dismembered stray cats under your bed weird. He mostly sits on his computer tapping away at some game that even looks to dorky for me - which is saying something since I was in a dungeons and dragons club my freshmen year at Liberty but he’s nice enough and keeps his side of the room clean so what more could I ask for?

I close my biology book gently as to not disturb Jeff’s intense gaming and glance out the window where a group of students walk leisurely down a well manicured path and gather around a bench, familiar white blonde hair catching the fading sun as a girl takes a seat flashing a radiant smile.

I squint and then stand up from my bed too quickly, pulling Jeff’s attention away from his game with a grunt. “Where are you—-?” I’m already halfway out the door and jogging down the hallway. Ever since I blew Ava off that day her smiles have been fading, her greetings not as often and I’ve lost more sleep staring up at the ceiling in my dorm room than I’d care to admit.

“Clay!”

I’m so close to Ava she turns her attention towards me as Heidi calls my name, stopping me in my tracks. “Hey! How are you?” My eyes lock with Ava’s who’s watching me carefully as I turn to Heidi and smile, running a hand through my messy hair as she closes the space between us and hugs me. Shit.

“I haven’t seen you in a while.” Well, that’s because I spent the entire summer with you - confessed my undying love for you after orientation then got my heart broke for my trouble. Again.

“Yeah, uh. Just busy with classes. How are you?”

You told me we could still be friends - still hookup if I wanted but I don’t want that. I want something real. Something I’ve never had before. Something I’ll probably never find.

“I’m good. My classes are so crazy. Environmental science is already kicking my ass.”

I nod and have no idea what to say. “We should get together sometime and catch up.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

No way in hell that’s happening. Heidi is here for the experience. Frat parties and all night keg stands - she’s trying to soak it all in and that’s something I’m not interested in. No good comes from partying - trust me.

“Okay well you look determined to get somewhere. Sorry to keep you I just wanted to say hi.” I nod again forcing a smile as her lips brush against my cheek and then she’s gone as quickly as she appeared causing a deep blush to rush to my face. I turn my attention back to Ava but the bench is empty. Fuck.

X

Ava

Clay Jensen is not interested in me.

He’s here to get an education - like I’m supposed to be doing - not smiling at boys and asking them out for coffee. Plus it’s painfully obvious that girl from yesterday is more than just an acquaintance - he actually gave her his full attention and she kissed him goodbye. Lucky girl. I lean back in my chair and try to focus on the professors monotone voice and not Clay staring a hole in the back of my skull. I can feel his eyes on me like he’s desperately trying to get my attention. He knows we’re in college now, right? He can just speak to me like an adult - he doesn’t have to ask permission.

I refuse to look at him. A fool me twice kind of thing so I sit with my back to him and map out a plan in my head on how I can avoid him from now on. The professor mentions a few chapters we should study for a test later in the week then the class starts to file out of the room quickly but I stay in my seat hoping to give Clay a head start to his next class to avoid anymore embarrassment. When I finally stand he’s still sitting behind me looking down at his notebook lost in his thought.

“Clay?”

I watch his eyes lift to mine then around the thinning room. “Shit.” Clay closes his book and tosses it in his bag, standing and turning to leave before turning back to me quickly. “I’m uh, sorry that I missed you yesterday. I saw you outside and wanted to ask you about that rain check for the coffee?”

“Oh.” That’s surprising. Clay’s the first person I’ve met here that truly gave me the fuck off vibe. I figured he had a psycho girlfriend who would kill us both if she caught him speaking to me or that maybe he was just a woman hater in general but he actually wants to hang out? With me? I brush my hair from my eyes and smile at the thought of getting coffee with him.

“Y-yeah. That would be great.”

“Want to go now or…?”

“Now’s great.”

For the first time since I’ve met him Clay Jensen actually smiles and it takes my breath away. He is so handsome, in an adorable kind of way. “You have a great smile.” I assure him quietly because it’s true - watching it spread across his face as he lifts his backpack to his shoulder and guides me to the door.

X

Clay

“My dad’s working three jobs to help me so I can’t mess this up.”

It’s hard to pull my gaze from Ava’s mouth, watching her swirl her iced coffee with her straw before taking a long drink. The way her eyes close like it’s the best thing she’s ever tasted makes my throat dry.

“Yeah, my parents expect a lot out of me here too so I’m trying to skip the party scene.”

God her smile is like seeing the ocean for the first time. Mesmerizing and I really want to run my thumb along her bottom lip to test its softness - which is really fucking weird Clay - get your shit together. Ava giggles before taking another drink and we fall into a comfortable silence, glancing around the busy coffee shop as students come and go between classes.

“Do you have any siblings?”

It’s an innocent question. Common among strangers trying to get to know one another better but the thought of Justin sends a surge of pain into my chest and I drop her gaze, staring into my cup of black coffee.

“Um, no. Not really.”

Ava waits for me to elaborate as I lift my eyes to hers again.

“My parents were going to adopt my best friend…, his name was Justin but he um, passed away right before graduation.”

Her frown may be even more beautiful than her smile. Her eyebrows pull together with concern and that mysterious bottom lip pouts out just enough to make me wish I could kiss her and take all of her pain away.

“Clay. I’m so sorry.”

She doesn’t ask me how Justin died and that floods me with relief as I nod and ask her about her own siblings. Or the lack there of - she’s an only child too and when I ask her about growing up her words come out to quiet. “It was pretty lonely.”

…and I feel that in my soul.

X

“I think my roommates going to kill me.”

Ava’s head jolts up from her book as she turns to me, those concerned eyebrows pulling together again. It’s been over a month since we got coffee and now she sits beside me instead of in front of me in our economics lecture - her left arm pressed lightly against my right every morning. Sometimes we both rest our elbows at nearly the same time and our fingers almost touch. It sends a shock of electricity through my body but I never can will myself to glance her way to catch her reaction.

I fall for girls to hard and to fast.

“What?”

I look up at her trying to remember what I’ve just said. Oh, Jeff. He’s definitely weirder than me.

“You know that urban legend if your roommate commits suicide you automatically get a 4.0 for the semester?”

It’s my turn for concern to wash over me as Ava’s blue eyes go wide and her body goes rigid at my side. She’s not even breathing now as she nods her head slightly, locking her gaze with mine. Shit. I shouldn’t have mentioned it but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t freaking me out a little. Jeff talks about some dark shit sometimes even if he does try to laugh it off afterwards. Now I lay awake staring at the ceiling for two reasons.

“Jeff mentions that shit all the time. He’s like obsessed with it.”

Ava doesn’t say anything at first, her eyes never leaving mine as she slowly allows air back into her lungs. “Thats really weird. You need to request a transfer to another dorm - you can come over to mine anytime you want. My roommate is never there. She’s totally sleeping with one of her professors - she stays at his place most nights unless they’re fighting or his wife’s home.” I lift an eyebrow at her words, a nervous laugh rushing from my lungs at the thought as she finally smiles at me.

“I may take you up on that sometime. I need to study but it’s hard to concentrate when he’s there.”

“I can imagine. Do you have your phone?”

My phone? “Y-Yeah.” I pull it from my pocket and offer it to her - watching as she holds top of hers to the top of mine and name drops her info into my iPhone. I share my info to hers and meet her eyes again. “Call me if your roommate gets weird. I’ll come over and tase him.” A smile pulls at my lips as she turns to her bag quickly. “Actually. Just take this. I’ll get another one. Zap the shit out of that asshole if he tries to fuck with you.” She hands over a small device no bigger than my palm, quickly showing me how to use it.

“T-thanks.” This may come in handy if Jeff’s grades start slipping before I can get approved to find another dorm. Ava just smiles and turns her attention back to the professor - her arm falling back into place beside mine.

X

“Come on Clay! You’re literally on the Dean’s list - you can come to one party. Everyone’s going to be there.”

How I keep running into Heidi is beyond me. I just want to get through this semester and not get murdered by my weird roommate. (I check his grades more than I check my own - thankfully he’s still got a 3.8 average.) I don’t want to go to a frat house party tonight. I don’t want to get drunk and hook up with Heidi. I need to study for my physics exam next week which is damn near impossible with Jeff’s constant clicking on his computer all night.

“I appreciate the invite Heidi but I’m uh, studying later with a group.”

Clay, you can just say no. It’s fine.

“Are you dating that blonde girl I always see you with?” I lift my eyes to Heidi’s before they narrow. “I’m not dating anyone.” As if it’s any of her business. She just wanted to be friends anyway - wanted to explore all her options in college. Why does she care if I date someone else?

“Oh. It just seems like you’re together when I see you.”

Ava and I ran into Heidi near that bench outside of my dorm room last week. I guess to the outside world we were walking close together, she smells like vanilla all the time and it draws me to her like bees to honey. She was showing me some dumb video on her phone - we were laughing and I touched the small of her back to guide her around some jerk taking up too much room on the sidewalk. Heidi was walking behind the jerk and when our eyes met briefly I idly slid my habd around Ava’s waist to pull her closer to me.

Now Heidi and I stand in awkward silence for a minute before I make up some more bullshit about having to go - stalking off from her quickly. It’s not Heidi’s fault I don’t know how to be casual friends with someone. I don’t know how to just hook-up with one girl and move on to the next. My brain isn’t wired that way. I make connections. I fall in love to fast. To hard. Heidi and I spent most of the summer together - coffee and movies. She kissed me when I dropped her off one night not long after graduation - sinking her hands into my hair as she pushed me into the door of her parent’s house whispering how they weren’t home and that she really wanted me but it turns out she just wanted to have sex. Maybe with as many people as she possibly could in the next four years - no judgement here - but while she was hooking up I was falling in love with her, just like I had with every girl that showed me an ounce of attention before her.

So no, Ava isn’t my girlfriend. She’s a girl that’s a friend. I don’t want to ruin that even if I do think about what it would be like to be with her every waking minute of my existence. She’s here to get an education. Just like me.

After my last class I head to the library to study physics alone but as I step into the large building I spot Ava at a desk, her white blonde hair falling around her in soft waves. She looks so fucking beautiful it causes me physical pain, bringing my hand to my chest to massage the tight feeling just below my heart. I stand just inside the library watching her - the way her eyes move along the pages of the book she’s reading, how her oversized gray sweat shirt hangs past her shoulder exposing smooth skin and when her tongue moves across her bottom lip my heart seizes in my chest - moving me forward.

X

Ava

I glance up as someone flops down in the chair across from me, eyes going wide as I realize it’s Clay - his smile warming me from the inside out as I say hello. I try to hide the excitement of seeing him. I try to play it cool around him but this boy makes my heart skip beats whenever he’s around me. I try not to fall for him every single day. He’s not here for that. Neither am I.

“Do you want to go get something to eat?”

I blink at his words and close my book. Yes. Absolutely yes. “Um, sure.” Whatever. I shrug my exposed shoulder but my smile gives it all away making his spread and light up his perfect blue eyes. Fifteen minutes later we’re sitting together on the Little Bear fountain sharing French Fries as I quiz him on physics. He’s going to get an A - of course but I ask him a few questions twice just to keep him with me a while longer.

———————

This fic is being continued on ao3. Check it out and let me know what you think!

photo credits: willie879 from Google, screen shot of Clay from the show.

[cosmicflw3rr]

visions of gideon.

jeff atkins x fem! reader

summary: you have to speak at your boyfriends memorial service, in the process bringing up a bunch of old memories making you break.

A/N: I’ve been finishing 13 reasons why and I couldn’t help but write for jeff, my obsession of the month, I also don’t mind writing for any other characters🫦

you stood in your room, staring into the mirror, expecting to see a familiar face staring back at you.

but the person reflected in the glass wasn't you. Instead, the eyes that met yours were empty, devoid of the spark that once defined you.

what you saw was merely a shell of the girl you used to be, a ghost of your former self. the vibrant, confident person you once knew had faded, leaving behind a stranger you could hardly recognize.

you were brought out of your trance by a voice. you closed your eyes, trying to ground yourself before looking at your door and seeing clay. he was one of the only friends your boyfriend had that you actually liked.

clay was always kind to jeff, always there to help him out when he needed it. "are you ready?" clay asked gently, his voice soft and understanding. you inhaled softly, taking one more look in the mirror, trying to muster the strength you needed.

the truth was, you weren't ready. you weren’t ready to face the truth. for fucks sake your boyfriend was dead, and the weight of that reality was crushing you. the memories of him flashed through your mind, each one a bittersweet reminder of what you had lost.

the room felt colder, and the air seemed heavier as you struggled to find the words. the pain was still raw, and the thought of facing the world without him was almost unbearable.

your eyes fell on your dresser before looking back to clay. “yeah, give me a second,” you told him softly. he looked at you for a moment, but it wasn’t the look you were expecting.

you expected him to look at you like everyone else did—like you were fragile glass that could shatter with the wrong word, glance, or touch.

Instead, clay looked at you with understanding, It was a look that said he understood, not that he was pitying you, and he wouldn’t understand it, but it was all that you needed in that moment.

he nodded, a small but meaningful gesture, before quietly heading downstairs, leaving you in your room.

your eyes fell back on your dresser, more specifically the framed picture of you and jeff. you walked over to it picking it up, you gently ran your fingers over it. smiling softly as you examine it.

It was taken last christmas, it was dark and snowing, bright christmas lights scattered in with the trees behind the both of you. he was stood behind you his arm wrapped against your neck, your hand was on his forearm the both of you smiling widely.

as you stare at the photo, the world around you fades, and you find yourself transported back to that moment.

flashback.

the two of you walked slowly down the narrow path, your fingers intertwined as you both took in the display of lights that adorned the park.

as you reached the end of the path, you found yourselves standing before a grand tree, its branches adorned with a cascade of twinkling white lights. "that’s what I’d imagine the stars would look like in a perfect place," you murmured to jeff, your eyes filled with wonder as you gazed up at the shimmering lights. jeff, however, had his eyes fixed on you, captivated by your expression of awe.

"this is perfect enough for me," he said, you looked at him realizing he wasn’t looking at the lights but at you. with a soft laugh, you turn to meet his gaze.

"your’re so annoying," you chuckled, playfully nudging him as he shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips.

"I'm just speaking my truth," he replied with a shrug.

"yeah, whatever," you responded, rolling your eyes but unable to suppress a smile. you turned your attention back to the lights. "I'm talking about the lights, though."

unbeknownst to you, jeff had slipped away from your side. he was now crouched in the snow, gathering it into a compact ball. "I see them, baby. I was just saying," he called out, his voice filled with mischief.

you shook your head, still focused on the mesmerizing lights, when suddenly you felt a cold, wet impact on your arm. startled, you turned to see jeff grinning mischievously at you, a fresh snowball in hand. "jeff!" you exclaimed, your voice a mix of surprise and amusement.

"what?" he laughed, trying to play it off as innocent, as if you hadn’t just caught him red-handed in the act.

"oh, that’s how you want to play?" you challenged, darting to the other side of the path, quickly scooping up some snow and forming it into a snowball. with a swift motion, you hurled it at jeff, hitting him squarely on the shoulder.

"oh, you are so on, y/l/n," he declared, his eyes sparkling with the reflection of the lights. he swiftly retaliated, launching another snowball in your direction.

the snowball fight escalated quickly. you ducked behind a nearby bench, gathering more snow to create more snowballs.

jeff mirrored your actions, crouching behind a tree as he prepared his own snowballs.

they flew back and forth, some hitting each other while others missed, breaking apart.

you laughed as one of jeff's snowballs grazed your arm, sending a cold shiver down your spine. "I thought you play baseball atkins?” you called out teasingly. “you’re gonna have to do better than that!" you stood up to launch a perfectly aimed snowball that caught jeff right in the chest.

jeff responded with a flurry of snowballs, forcing you to dive behind a nearby bush for cover. you peeked out, spotting jeff as he tried to sneak closer.

quickly, you formed another snowball and lobbed it over the bush, hitting him on the chest again.

"I taught you well." jeff called out, grinning. he took a running start, gathering snow as he went, and launched a snowball that caught you off guard, hitting you on the back.

giggling, you gathered more snow and threw it back at him. "call a truce!" jeff yelled. you shook your head, running to take cover behind a tree. you peeked out from behind the tree, trying to see him, but you couldn’t.

you giggled softly as you turned back and screamed when you saw him standing right in front of you. jeff immediately put his hand over your mouth, giggling as he did.

"y/l/n, people are gonna think I’m murdering you back here," he laughed softly, making you laugh too. after a second, he removed his hand from your mouth, still chuckling. you both stood there, breathless from laughter and the cold, the snow continuing to fall gently around you.

"truce," you said, sticking out your pinky and looking up at him with a playful smile. he rolled his eyes but couldn't hide his grin as he linked his pinky with yours.

"truce," he repeated, his smile widening. you smiled and he extended his hand. “let’s head back.”

you nodded, and the two of you made your way back onto the path. jeff carefully helped you trudge through the thick, heavy snow, ensuring you wouldn't slip or fall. your hold on his forearm strong.

the snow crunched beneath your boots with each step, and you could feel the cold nipping at your cheeks.

you guys managed to make it back onto the path. "I think in order to seal our truce, we should take a picture," you suggested, looking up at him with a playful glint in your eyes. he looked down at you, a smirk spreading across his face as the idea amused him.

"I think that’s a good idea," jeff said, his smile softening as he reached into his pocket to pull out your phone. you both huddled together, the cold air making your cheeks a rosy pink.

your back pressed firmly against his chest, and he loosely wrapped his forearm around your neck, he leaned his head against yours.

you grabbed his arm with one hand for balance, leaning into him while you raised your phone to snap the picture.

as you both looked at the picture, you couldn't help but smile at it. "perfect now it’s sealed" he said, grinning as you saved the photo. jeff chuckled, his breath visible in the frosty air.

you laugh softly, the sound mingling in the crisp air. jeff glances at your phone time, then back at you with a soft smile. "let's hurry up and finish this so I can take you to get hot chocolate at monet's after," he says, before he wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer for warmth as the two of you turn around to walk back up the path.

end of flashback.

a tear falls down your cheek, you quickly wipe it. remembering the feel of jeff's arms around you, the sound of his laughter—it all comes rushing back and for a brief, beautiful instant, it's as if he's right there with you again.

you take a deep breath, knowing that in just a few moments, you'll need to stand before everyone at his memorial service to honor his life and the love you shared. but for now, you just want to imagine that he is here next to you, that everything is okay, that everything is perfect.

after a moment, you sigh softly and place the photo back down on the dresser. you kiss the tips of your fingers before gently touching the picture one last time. then, you grab the paper filled with your heartfelt words, written meticulously from front to back.

leaving your room, you close the door gently behind you. as you walk down the stairs, you stop on the last step and see your parents and clay speaking in hushed voices. they don’t notice you right away, forcing you to clear your throat softly. the three of them turn to look at you, a bit startled. “hey, honey,” your mom says gently, moving over to you as you step onto the floor.

“you friend clay is going to ride with us over there,” she explains. you nod, clutching the paper tightly, afraid to let it go. clay glances down at the paper, understanding that it holds your speech, the words you’ve prepared to say goodbye.

she gives you a small smile, grabbing your hand gently. you smile back at her weakly.

the drive to the school was silent, the only sounds being the hum of the car engine and the occasional whoosh of passing vehicles. It was almost ironic that it was raining, the droplets on the window creating a mesmerizing pattern as they slid down.

your parents finally arrived at the school, and you all stepped out of the car, walking into the gym where the rest of the school had gathered.

the gym was filled with a somber atmosphere, the low murmur of conversations blending with the soft patter of rain outside.

your parents turned to you with gentle expressions. "we'll be sitting next to jeff's parents if you need us," your mom said softly, her voice filled with understanding and support. you looked at her, managing a tight-lipped smile.

you dad stepped forward, pulling you into a warm embrace and kissing you gently on the head. you mom followed, wrapping you in a comforting hug, holding you close as if to shield you from the pain for just a moment longer.

after a moment she pulls back smiling sadly before they walked away, leaving you and clay standing together, your emotions still swirling in your head. "I can’t do this, clay," you told him, inhaling sharply.

he turned to you, his eyes filled with worry and confusion. "what do you—"

you shook your head, feeling the urge to run out of the gym right then and there. "I mean I can’t go up there and talk in front of everyone."

clay's expression softened, and he placed a his hand on your shoulder. "hey, listen to me. I know it's hard,and I know what I’m about to say is corny, but it’s true.” he paused trying to find the right words. “jeff would want you to be strong. he believed in you, and he’d want you to believe in yourself too."

you took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. "just take it one step at a time," he continued, his voice steady and comforting. "If you need to go outside for a moment, I'll go with you."

you nodded, you watched as principal bolan walked up to the stand. "we are gathered here today to remember and honor jeff, a bright young man who had a bright future ahead of him," he began, his words echoing through the silent gym. he called up jeff’s parents, your heart ached as you took them in.

as you watched them take their place behind the stand you looked at their faces which were etched with grief, your mind began to race. memories of jeff flooded your thoughts, but you couldn't seem to focus on any single one.

the room seemed to close in on you, and the weight of the moment made it hard to breathe.

your thoughts were a chaotic jumble, making it impossible to think straight.

suddenly, you felt a gentle touch on my shoulder. It was clay bringing you back to reality. you took a deep breath and tried to steady yourself. principal bolan's voice broke through your haze, "and now, jeff’s parents would like to invite his girlfriend, y/n to the stand."

you took a deep breath and slowly walked up to the stage, each step feeling heavier than the last. your heart pounded in your chest as you approached the microphone. as you reached the stand, you hesitated for a second, gathering your thoughts and trying to calm the whirlwind in my mind.

you then stepped up to the microphone, the cold metal sending a shiver through your fingers. you adjusted it slightly, the sound of your movements amplified through the speakers.

finally, you lifted your gaze and looked out at the sea of faces sitting on the bleachers. the room was filled with people, some faces you recognized, others you didn’t. the collective silence was almost overwhelming.

you cleared your throat, hoping to dislodge the lump that had formed there. the sound echoed slightly, breaking the heavy silence for a brief moment. you took another deep breath, unfolding the paper.

your trembling fingers ghost over the words you have written down, you looked to clay who nods.

taking another deep breath, you began, "I- I never thought I’d have to write this. call me naive, but I thought jeff and I would be together until we were old and had gray hair." you let out a humorless laugh at the unrealistic dream. "If a year ago, someone had told me I’d be standing here, giving this speech, I’d have never believed them. but here I am."

you inhale sharply, feeling the tears sting your eyes. "I remember the day I met jeff like it was yesterday. It was two years ago." you read the words off the paper, recounting the memory that was now so long ago. but you didn’t need to. you knew that day was etched into your memory forever.

"It was here, in this school," you continued, your voice trembling slightly. "I was walking to the library, I had books in my hand, i remember I was so stressed-“

flashback.

you hurried through the somewhat empty hallways, your mind racing with the sheer number of tasks you needed to complete before the end of the day.

the pressure was mounting, and it felt like you had about fifty things to do in such a short amount of time.

just as you were mentally organizing your to-do list, someone collided with you forcefully, sending your belongings scattering to the ground and causing you to stumble back a step.

you frustration peaked as you looked up and recognized the culprit—montgomery de la cruz. “what the fuck, monty?!” you exclaimed, your voice filled with exasperation. he continued walking past you, his arms raised in a gesture of surrender.

“sorry, y/n,” he called back, not even breaking his stride. you rolled your eyes, annoyance bubbling up inside you as you bent down to gather the scattered papers that had fallen from your grasp and were now strewn all over the floor.

you let out a huff of frustration, “you’re a dick!” you exclaimed, your voice echoing in the hallway. just then, you heard another voice chiming in.

“come on monty.” the voice said, you looked up and saw a baseball player standing there. you couldn’t recall his name, but you definitely recognized him—he was one of the jocks, one of liberty highs golden boys.

you glanced back at monty, who was laughing cockily as he made his way outside to the fields.

shaking your head, you returned to picking up your scattered papers. just as you were about to reach for one that had landed a bit farther away, someone else picked it up for you.

you looked up to see the guy who’d said something, he was one of monty’s friends. “oh, thank you,” you said, standing up and trying to organize your papers as he handed you the ones he had picked up.

“sorry he’s such an ass,” he said laughing, a hint of apology in his voice.

you rolled your eyes and let out a dry laugh. “there’s no need to apologize for him. believe it or not I’m used to monty,” you replied with a sigh, making the guy chuckle.

dot a moment, the two of you stood there in silence, just looking at each other. then he broke the silence. “my name’s jeff.”

“y/n,” you said, and he smiled warmly.

end of flashback.

“a few days after that, we started talking, and before I knew it, we were inseparable.” you choked on your words, your voice trembling with emotion. “I thought we were inseparable.” you paused, inhaling softly, trying to steady yourself.

“every moment jeff and I spent together was perfect. he was the perfect boyfriend—thoughtful, caring, and always there when I needed him.” you paused again, a tear slipping from your eye, tracing a path down your cheek. “he was the best thing that ever happened to me. I thought he was my forever, but I had seemed to forget that nothing is forever.”

you paused once more, your eyes welling up with tears, your vision blurring. your voice broke as you continued, the pain evident in every word. “the night I found out jeff died was like having the ground ripped out from under me. It felt as if my entire world had shattered in an instant.”

flashback.

the music was blaring, reverberating through every corner of jessica’s house, which was packed with people. the air was thick with the mingling scents of various perfumes and colognes, mixed with the unmistakable aroma of beer, snacks and sweat.

as you weaved your way through the crowd to the living room where you had left jeff to go to the bathroom. you stopped seeing he was no longer there and that a group of people had begun to play such and blow in yours and his spot on the couch. you began to scan the room for familiar faces, until you finally spotted sheri in the kitchen.

you made your way over to her pushing past people, “hey sheri,” you called out as you finally made it to her, raising your voice to be heard over the deafening music. she looked up from her red solo cup, a bright smile spreading across her face as she recognized you.

“hey y/n!” she responded.

“what a party, hmm?” you remarked looking around at the lively scene around you.

“yeah, it’s wild!” she replied, taking another sip from her cup. you watched as she seemed to focus on something else.

you looked around trying to find jeff so you could let sheri enjoy her night. “have you seen jeff?” you asked, glancing around the crowded room once more.

she pointed towards the front yard. “he’s out there talking to clay.”

with a grateful nod, you navigated your way through the crowd of people, finally stepping outside into the cooler night air.

there, amongst the scattered groups of people, you spotted jeff and clay.

a smile spread across your face as you made your way towards them. “clay, is jeff bothering you?” you called out teasingly, causing both boys to turn and look at you, jeff looking at you with an amused expression.

“hey baby,” jeff greeted you, his face lighting up with a wide grin. “I was just trying to convince clay here to stay a while longer.”

“I’m going home,” clay responded, his expression tinged with frustration. he made a move to leave, but jeff quickly intervened.

“just hang with me and y/n for a while, man.” clay’s gaze shifted from jeff to you, and you offered him a gentle, reassuring smile.

clay was one of the few friends of jeff’s that you genuinely liked, the only one who seemed to truly care about him. “I’m going on a beer run soon, come with me.”

your eyebrows furrowed in concern as you looked at jeff. “are you driving?” you asked, the worry evident in your voice.

jeff turned to face both you and clay, holding up his solo cup. “It’s coca cola, my friend and beautiful girlfriend,” he assured you. you couldn’t help but roll your eyes playfully at his response.

to be absolutely certain, you took the cup from jeff’s hand and tasted it, confirming without a doubt that it was indeed coca cola. jeff rolled his eyes playfully at your cautiousness, leaning in to plant a light, affectionate kiss on your cheek as you handed his cup back. “It’s coke,” you told clay, feeling a bit more at ease now.

jeff, sensing your lingering concern, added, “I had two beers, two hours ago. I’m good.”

you nodded, feeling a bit more reassured by his explanation. you and jeff had been to your fair share of parties together over the past two years, and he always made sure he was sober when he drove. you trusted him.

“no. no,” clay said, shaking his head. you could tell something was up with him, but it wasn’t your place to pry. “thanks, jeff. I'm gonna take a long walk home and consider the wreckage that is my life.”

you eyes softened with empathy, and jeff shook his head. “you're a funny dude, clay.”

“so I've been told,” clay said with a hint of resignation in his voice. “see you both monday?” he asked.

“yeah,” jeff replied, taking a step back as he watched clay begin to walk away.

“take care of yourself clay,” you added, he looked back at you and nodding with a tight-lipped smile.

you heard the guys shout clay’s name as he started to walk away. “see you guys,” he told them before continuing.

you and jeff shared a concerned look, both of you clearly worried about him. “he didn’t look too good,” you said, watching clay as he walked off into the distance.

“no, he didn’t,” jeff agreed, also watching as clay left. you turned to jeff, wrapping your arms around his neck, and his hands instinctively found your waist, holding you close.

“you’re a good friend,” you told him, examining his face as he finally tore his eyes off clay to look at you with a soft, contemplative expression.

“I try,” he responded modestly, causing you to tilt your head slightly at his humble words.

“he’s lucky to have you,” you said with sincerity, and he smiled softly before leaning in to kiss you.

the kiss was soft, slow, and sweet. It lasted just a moment before he pulled away. “well, I’ve gotta go on this beer run. wanna come?” he asked.

you pulled away from him, grabbing your phone to check the time, wincing as you read it. “I would, but I can’t. I’ve got a curfew,” you replied regretfully.

jeff groaned playfully, but you knew he understood. you laughed, rolling your eyes. “I know, I know. I would stay longer, but I’m already in trouble for pushing it last weekend.”

he admired your face, gently moving a loose strand of hair out of your eyes. “nah, baby, I get it,” he said with a reassuring smile.

you smiled, giving him another kiss, savoring the moment before he grabbed your hand and led you towards his car. “shit, sheri’s blocking me in. I’ll be back in a sec,” he said, letting go of your hand and disappearing into the house to find her.

you pulled out your phone, quickly texting your parents to let them know you’d be home in about ten minutes. just as you hit send, you felt a hand gently rest on your waist.

you turned around and smiled at jeff. “well, sheri has to get her keys, so in the meantime, I’ll walk you to your car,” he said with a charming grin.

“such a gentleman,” you teased, laughing softly. your laughter was contagious, and jeff chuckled too as the two of you began the short walk to your car parked on the other side of the street.

“I try,” he joked, making you smile as you unlocked your car. jeff opened the door for you, ensuring you were safely inside before closing it gently.

you put on your seatbelt and turned to look at him. he had his arms resting on the base of your window, his head comfortably perched atop them.

you smiled at him, feeling a warm sense of contentment. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” you asked, your voice hopeful.

he smiled lopsidedly, his eyes twinkling. “of course,” he replied, the promise hanging in the air as you started your car.

you looked into his eyes, feeling a strange but compelling feeling. “okay then, I’ll see you tomorrow,” you told him gently, trying to make out the unfamiliar way he was gazing at you. It was different, more profound than ever before.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he echoed, leaning his head into your car and pressing his lips to yours. the kiss lingered, neither of you wanting to pull away, savoring every second of the connection.

when he finally did pull back, jeff kept his eyes closed for a moment, a serene smile playing on his lips. when he opened his eyes, they sparkled with a warmth that made your knees feel weak. “I love you, y/l/n,” he said softly, the words filled with sincerity.

“I love you too, jeff,” you replied just as softly, your heart swelling with emotion. he tapped gently on the base of your window, a tender gesture.

“alright, drive safe, baby. sweet dreams,” he said, his voice filled with affection.

“sweet dreams,” you repeated, watching as he winked at you before walking off into the night.

you laughed softly to yourself, before finally driving off.

——

It was the morning after the party, and you slowly stirred awake, turning around in your bed to look out the window. the soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow in the room.

you weren't quite ready to get up yet, so you lay there for a few moments, savoring the peace and quiet.

with a sigh, you rubbed your eyes and slowly sat up, feeling the weight of sleep still lingering. your gaze drifted to your nightstand where your phone lay.

you reached for it, expecting to see a text from jeff. however, the screen remained blank—no message, no response to the texts you had sent last night. a knot of worry began to form in your stomach.

your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you typed out a quick message.

good morning

did you get in safe last night?

pls text me when you get this.

I love you

after hitting send, you sighed again and headed to the bathroom, hoping for a reply soon.

as you brushed your teeth, the silence felt heavy. you tried to shake off the unease that settled in your stomach, telling yourself that he was probably just sleeping in.

after all, jessica's party had likely run late into the night. you rinsed your mouth and stared at your reflection in the mirror, trying to convince yourself that everything was fine.

you got ready for the day, putting on your clothes and fixing your hair. every few minutes, your eyes darted to your phone, hoping to see a notification that would bring some reassurance.

the anticipation was killing you, making the simple act of getting dressed feel like an eternity.

heading downstairs, you were met with an unexpected and unsettling sight. your parents were sitting at the kitchen table, hand in hand, tissues scattered around them.

your mom's eyes were red and swollen from crying, and your dad looked completely drained, his face devoid of any emotion. the scene was so out of the ordinary that it stopped you in your tracks.

confusion and concern washed over you as you approached them cautiously. "mom? dad? what's wrong?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly with a mix of fear and curiosity. "did something happen?"

"sit down, sweetheart," your mom said, her voice shaky and barely above a whisper.

you did as she asked, your heart beginning to pound in your chest like a drum. "what's wrong? what happened?" you asked again, the restlessness and anxiety building up inside you.

the silence that followed was deafening, and you could feel the tension in the room thickening with each passing second.

as your leg began to bounce up and down, a palpable sense of anxiety filled the room. your dad took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours with a look of profound sadness. “y/n, jeff he—”

your heart stopped, and you sat up straighter, tension gripping you. “he what, dad?” you said, the words coming out harsher than you intended.

“jeff was in a car accident last night.”

you froze, a whirlwind of confusion and hurt sweeping over you. “i-is he okay? what hospital is he in? we have to go see him!” you exclaimed, desperation lacing your voice.

a tear rolled down your mom’s cheek as she struggled to maintain her composure. “honey…” she began, but her voice broke, unable to continue.

you looked at her, hoping she wasn’t about to confirm your worst fears. “mom, what’s wrong?” you pleaded, your voice rising with panic. “you’re scaring me. Is he okay?!”

your mom grabbed your hand, her grip trembling. “sweetie, he—” she began, but her voice faltered. your dad’s voice was barely a whisper as he said, “he didn’t make it. he died in the accident.”

the words hit you like a ton of bricks, and you felt as if the air had been knocked from your lungs. In that moment, it was as if you had left your body; your physical form was present, but you were watching yourself from outside of it.

“you’re lying,” you said, laughing humorlessly. “like—it’s some fucked up prank, right?”

your mom’s eyes fluttered closed as she inhaled softly, trying to steady herself. You looked at them, taking in their reactions—the sorrow etched on your dad’s face and the tears streaming down your mom’s cheeks. “no, no,” you said, shaking your head in disbelief.

“please, this can’t be true,” you continued, your voice rising in desperation. “there must be some mistake. jeff can’t be gone. I saw him just last night, he was just-“ you inhale sharply. “this isn’t real. It can’t be real.”

your dad placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, his grip firm yet tender. “I’m so sorry, baby. I wish it were different, but it’s true,” he said, his voice breaking.

suddenly, you felt a tightness in your chest, your breathing becoming rapid and shallow.

panic surged through you, and you felt as if the walls were closing in. “I can’t breathe,” you gasped, clutching at your chest, you looked at your mom panicked. “mom i- i can’t breathe.”

your mom immediately moved to your side, grabbing your forearm. “y/n, try to breathe with me,” she said, her voice calm but urgent. “Inhale slowly through your nose, and exhale through your mouth. just focus on my voice.”

your dad knelt beside you, his eyes filled with concern. “we’re right here with you. you’re safe. just keep breathing,” he encouraged, his hand gently rubbing your back.

you tried to follow their instructions, focusing on the rhythm of your mom’s breathing. slowly, the panic began to subside, and your breathing started to even out.

you leaned into your mom’s embrace, feeling the warmth and comfort of her presence.

as the tightness in your chest eased, a new wave of emotion crashed over you. the reality of jeff’s death hit you with full force. you started sobbing uncontrollably, your body shaking with each breathless cry. your mom held you tighter, her own tears mingling with yours.

“we’re going to get through this together. you’re going to get through this,” your mom whispered. “we’ll find a way to keep going, for jeff.”

as you clung to your mom, the reality of the situation slowly began to sink in. jeff was gone.

and your life would never be the same.

end of flashback.

tears stream down your face, and you struggle to continue. the grief is overwhelming, and you can barely speak. "that was the last time I saw him. the last time I felt his touch, the last time I heard his voice.” your voice breaks and your hands tremble, the weight of your words pressing down on you.

“and I know everyone is mad at him. they think he was stupid, that he did this to himself. but I can’t—” you shake your head, your eyes filled with tears that refuse to stop flowing. “I can’t let everyone think that—in the time that I was able to know jeff, he never once drove under the influence, no matter the situation. he was always responsible, always careful. and if you knew him, you’d know that—"

you let out a soft sob, your heart aching with the weight of loss.

your voice breaks again as you try to continue, and sobs overcome you, shaking your entire body as you try desperately to stop them.

but you can’t stop them; they just keep coming, wave after relentless wave. you cover your mouth, looking up at clay, who is sitting in the front row.

your gaze falls on clay, your eyes silently plead for help. he meets your gaze, and in that moment, he understands completely. with a nod, he slowly stands up and walks to the stand, gently taking the paper from your trembling hands.

you let out a soft sob, your heart aching with the loss that feels too great to bear. clay’s voice is steady, but you can see the pain in his eyes as he continues. "jeff was a light in all of our lives. his kindness, his humor, his support – these are just few of the many things that jeff was that i will try to carry with me."

clay's voice falters for a moment, but he presses on. "It was an honor to be loved by him, and an even bigger honor that he allowed me to love him. jeff showed me what true love is – a love that is patient, kind, and selfless. he made me a better person, and for that, I will be forever grateful."

you eyes silently plead for help. he meets your gaze, and in that moment, he understands completely. with a nod, he slowly stands up and walks to the stand, gently taking the paper from your trembling hands.

a tear falls down, making its path down clay's face as he continues, his voice trembling. "jeff's love was a gift and one that I will cherish for the rest of my life. and to him, the love of my life, I will never forget you. and I’ll be forever awaiting the day till we meet again."

as clay finishes, his eyes meet yours, and you clasp your hands together, placing them over your mouth as you look at him through a veil of tears.

the room seems to blur around you, the only clear thing being the connection between you and clay, a shared understanding of the loss you both feel.

clay opens his arms, a gesture filled with compassion and solace, and you find yourself gradually moving towards him. each step feels heavy, as if the weight of your grief is trying to hold you back, but the need for comfort propels you forward.

distance between you closes slowly, your heart pounding in your chest, and when you finally reach him, you collapse into his embrace.

and after a moment, he gently guides you outside, both of you desperately needing a breath of fresh air. the warm air hits your face as you walk together in silence. “you know, you helped jeff a lot.” you started inhaling, “he had lots of friends sure but the only one who truly had his best interest at heart.. was you.”

“im sure jeff didn’t consider me a friend.” clay deflected looking at the ground as you walked.

you touched his shoulder gently as you stopped making him stop as well. “clay. jeff considered you his closest friend.” you told him. clay looked at you his gaze unrecognizable but then you saw the tears slowly build as he nodded and looked at the ground.

you look around almost finding it ironic how you guys ended up at the baseball field, where you had been countless times before with jeff. your eyes fell on the dugout. “give me one second I need to do something.” you told clay, he said a quick okay before you jogged lightly over to it.

as you approach the entrance of the dugout, your eyes are frantically searching.

flashback.

jeff had his hands covering your eyes, leadimg you forward gently.

it was your 3 month anniversary, you had told him nothing big needed to happen but jeff insisted to at least take you out. "where are we going?" you asked, it had felt you two had been walking forever.

“no you will.” he assured giggling softly.

"I doubt it," you said jokingly. after a few more steps, he finally uncovered your eyes. you blinked, adjusting to the dim light, and found yourself staring at the baseball field, the grass slightly damp and the air filled with a faint earthy scent.

"wait, why are we here?" you asked now curious, despite the initial confusion.

jeff just grinned, his eyes sparkling. he gently pulled you towards the fence. "you'll see," he whispered, his voice filled with excitement.

he helped you the fence first, his hands firm and reassuring, then climbed over himself with ease.

he led you straight to the dugout, your footsteps barely making a sound on the soft grass. the field was eerily quiet, the only sound being the distant hum of crickets.

once you reached the dugout, you looked around, puzzled. "what are we doing, jeff?" you laughed, the confusion evident in your voice. jeff pulled out a small pocket knife, the metal glinting faintly in the dim light. "I know you said you didn’t want to do much, but I just wanted to leave something behind," he said, his eyes mischievous and full of intent.

carefully, you watched as he began to carve your initials into the wooden post, the sound of the blade scraping the wood the only thing heard between you two. “I know you said you didn’t want to do anything crazy. but I still wanted to do something that would be here forever.”

“jeff, you’re crazy," you said softly, your voice tinged with both amusement and disbelief.

you glanced around the quiet field, your eyes scanning the shadows and hoping that nobody was around, and that the two of you wouldn’t get in trouble.

when he finally finished carving, you both took a step back to admire his handiwork:

j + y/i

etched into the wooden post with careful precision. a seemingly perfect heart drawn around it.

jeff turned to you with a satisfied grin stretching across his face. "there, now we’ve left our mark," he said, his voice brimming with a hint of mischief.

you smiled back at him, feeling a whirlwind of emotions—"I guess we have," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might ruin the moment.

as you both started walking back, jeff playfully nudged your shoulder. "bet you can't catch me!" he shouted, taking off in a light sprint.

laughing, you begun to chase after him, "oh, you're on!" you called out, picking up speed. The cool air filled with your laughter, and the thrill of the chase made your heart race.

jeff slowed down just enough for you to catch up, and as you reached him, you playfully tackled him to the ground. both of you tumbled into the grass, breathless and giggling. "I got you." you declared softly.

he grinned, lying on his back and looking up at the stars. "okay, okay, you win this time y/l/n," he admitted, still laughing. you both lay there for a moment, catching your breath and enjoying the peacefulness.

you smile catching your breath beside him, feeling the cool grass beneath you.

he turned his head to look at you, his eyes soft and full of something you couldn't quite place. "what?" you asked, suddenly self-conscious. "Is there something on my face?"

Instead of answering, jeff leaned in closer, his gaze never leaving yours. before you could react, his lips met yours in a sweet, gentle kiss. the world seemed to stand still for a moment, the only sound being the soft rustle of leaves around you.

as the kiss ended, you both lingered close, your foreheads almost touching. jeff's eyes searched yours, a tender smile playing on his lips. the moonlight cast a soft glow, making the moment feel almost magical.

you reached up and gently brushed a strand of hair from his face, your fingers grazing his cheek. "I didn't expect that," you whispered, still feeling the warmth of his kiss.

jeff chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "I didn't either, but it felt right," he replied, his voice filled with sincerity.

for a while, you both just lay there, admiring each other. the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in this perfect moment.

eventually, you helped each other up and continued your walk, occasionally bumping into each other and joking around.

end of flashback.

the sight of those initials brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes, and you start crying again, the sobs coming from deep within you.

yet, there's something about seeing the carved letters that brings a you a sense of solace.

no matter how much time had passed, no matter how you felt, there'd always be a reminder that what you and jeff shared was real. jeff was real. your love was real.

you run your fingers over the carving, feeling the rough edges of the letters. just then, clay comes over, it’s quiet between the both of you for a moment.

you sniffle wiping your tears, as you inhaled shakily, you look at him and can tell the concern in his eyes. "are you okay?" he asks softly.

you look at the initials one last time and then back at him. "I will be," you reply, your voice trembling slightly.

clay gives you a tight-lipped smile, understanding in his eyes. without another word, he takes your hand, and the two of you walk back together.

as you walk, you start thinking about how you'll learn to be okay. the pain is still there, and you know it’ll be there for a good while but you know that with time, you'll find a way to live with it.

you'll learn to carry the memories and the love you shared with jeff, finding strength in the fact that those moments will never be forgotten.

[newtsbloodygf]

Masterlist

Stray Kids:

Hwang Hyunjin masterlist

All skz members:

Breakfast Pt.1

[Breakfast Pt.2 loading....]

[Other members coming soon...]

BTS:

Jungkook:

[coming soon...]

Suga:

[coming soon...]

Jimin:

[coming soon...]

Itzy:

Yeji:

[coming soon...]

Ryujin:

[coming soon]

Ryeji x reader:

[coming soon...]

Yuna:

[coming soon...]

Lia:

[coming soon...]

Chaeryeong:

[coming soon....]

[other groups coming soon...]

Outer Banks:

JJ Maybank:

[coming soon...]

Kiara Carrera:

[coming soon...]

Sarah Cameron:

[coming soon...]

Pope Heyward:

[coming soon...]

Rafe Cameron:

[coming soon...]

Cleo:

[coming soon....]

13 Reasons Why:

Justin Foley:

[coming soon...]

Sheri Holland:

[coming soon...]

Zach Dempsey:

[coming soon...]

Alex Standall:

[coming soon...]

Jessica Davis:

[coming soon...]

Hannah Baker:

[coming soon...]

Jeff Atkins:

[coming soon...]

Skye Miller:

[coming soon...]

Clay Jensen x Skye Miller x Reader:

[coming soon...]

Clay Jensen x Hannah Baker:

[coming soon...]

The Sandman:

Morpheus/Dream:

[coming soon...]

Johanna Constantine:

[coming soon...]

Death:

[coming soon...]

Calliope:

[coming soon...]

Rose Walker:

[coming soon...]

Alex Burgess:

[coming soon...]

The Corinthian:

[coming soon...]

Morpheus x Calliope x Reader:

[coming soon...]

Marvel:

Wanda Maximoff:

[coming soon...]

Natasha Romanoff:

[coming soon...]

Loki Laufeyson:

[coming soon...]

Thor Odinson:

[coming soon...]

Peter Parker:

[coming soon...]

MJ/Mary Jane Watson:

[coming soon...]

MJ x Peter Parker x Reader:

[coming soon...]

Loki Laufeyson x Reader x Thor Odinson:

[coming soon...]

Ned x Peter Parker x MJ x Reader:

[coming soon...]

The End Of The F***ing World:

Alyssa Foley:

[coming soon..]

James:

[coming soon...]

James x Alyssa x Reader:

[coming soon...]

Hawkeye:

Kate Bishop:

[coming soon...]

Yelena Belova:

[coming soon...]

Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova:

[coming soon...]

Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova x Reader:

[coming soon...]

Maze Runner:

Newt:

[coming soon...]

Thomas:

[coming soon...]

Minho:

[coming soon...]

Teresa:

[coming soon...]

Brenda:

[coming soon...]

Harriet:

[coming soon...]

Newt x Thomas:

[coming soon...]

Teresa x Thomas:

[coming soon...]

Newt x Reader x Thomas:

[coming soon...]

Newt x Reader x Minho:

[coming soon...]

The Divergent:

Four/Tobias Eaton:

[coming soon...]

Hunger Games:

Katniss Everdeen:

[coming soon...]

Finnick Odair:

[coming soon...]

Gale Hawthorne:

[coming soon...]

Katniss x Reader x Finnick:

[coming soon...]

[and more series+movies+characters to come...]

[mthofferings2023]

kimmycup

See kimmycup’s existing works here and here.

Preferred contact methods: Discord: kimmycup

Preferred organizations: - ALA "Unite Against Book Bans" Campaign - Assistance Dogs International - Médecins San Frontières (Doctors Without Borders) (See the list of approved organizations here)

Will create works that contain: Fic: At longer wordcounts I am predominantly good with plotty stuff. Preferably canon divergence but some AUs work too - coffeeshop or other fluffy ones I'm better at - I weave angst into that rather than using angsty setting. I can do whump, I can do action. I am weirdly specialized in angsty kidfic, apparently, as I realized.

Will not create works that contain: For fic: zombies, infidelity, dark settings (slavery, dystopia etc), supernatural AUs, omegaverse, overly explicit stuff (i can throw in a sex scene in a whole fic but not write a smut only fic). For candles: Overly elaborate desigs in wax, basically anything with too many pieces forming the shape. Like Tony's arc reactor.

  -- Fic or Other Writing --

Auction ID: 1127

Will create works for the following relationships: Frank Castle/Foggy Nelson - MCU Frank Castle/Matt Murdock - MCU Matt Murdock/Foggy Nelson - MCU Layla El-Faouly/Marc Spector - MCU James "Rhodey" Rhodes/Tony Stark - MCU Harry Osborn/Peter Parker - MCU, Spider-Man (Raimi trilogy), TASM Layla El-Faouly/Jake Lockley - 616, MCU Frank Castle/Matt Murdock/Foggy Nelson - MCU Matt Murdock/Foggy Nelson/Marci Stahl - MCU Jean-Paul DuChamp/Steven Grant - 616, MCU

Work Description: This is the insane auction you've been looking for. I'm offering a fic without top wordcount limit. Every 10 dollars is 1k words. Yes, that means 500 dollars is 50k. That means a thousand is 100k. I don't predict more but you can do more! Go wild! Ruin me! Set me a challenge like I never had before! Due to wordcount, I would like to ask anyone bidding over 20/30k words to contact me if I am for sure happy with the prompt. I can't write long fic for stuff I don't like. Due to the nature of a fic being a long form, your prompt should reflect that. Canon rewrites (or crossovers and fusions, as long as I'm familiar and okay with the other piece of media) or plotty stuff preferred. If you don't want something too long you can also break the auction wordcount into up to three separate fics. I am also happy to do other ships, especially poly related to the people already listed, like Layla/system or Frenchie/system, Frenchie/Jake, Marci with either of the avocados instead of together, or even gen fic. Once again please ask first if you're unsure if I will write what you want.

Ratings: Gen, Teen, Mature, Explicit

Can pods bid on this auction? Yes - Podbids welcome!

CLICK HERE TO BID ON THIS WORK

-- Craft or Merchandise --

Auction ID: 2063

Will create works for the following relationships: Jeff the Land Shark-centric - 616

Work Description: This auction will be a figurine in polymer clay of Jeff the land shark. The size is customizable (up to 10cm), and so are the colors. We can discuss potential positioning him into a different pose than standing or adding accessories if auction hits 50 dollars. Winner pays shipping.

Ratings: Gen

Can pods bid on this auction? No - I'd rather not be bid on by pods

CLICK HERE TO BID ON THIS WORK

-- Craft or Merchandise --

Auction ID: 3023

Will create works for the following relationships: Tony Stark-centric - Any Universe Bruce Banner-centric - Any Universe Natasha Romanov-centric - Any Universe Clint Barton-centric - Any Universe Bucky Barnes-centric - Any Universe Avengers fandom any gen and ship - Any Universe X-Men fandom any gen and ship - Any Universe Defenders fandom any gen and ship - Any Universe Moon Knight fandom any gen and ship - Any Universe

Work Description: This work is for a custom candle. It's up to you what it will look like. I can do shapes in the wax, I can do layers, inbeds, a lot of different ways to incorporate characters. See images for examples (the Hawkeye logo could also be a free standing candle on its own). What I cannot do is elaborate designs like arc reactor - it's too many pieces to center. Ideally contact me if you have an idea that seems more complicated or about specific characters from the "any" section. Winner pays shipping.

Ratings: Gen

Can pods bid on this auction? No - I'd rather not be bid on by pods

CLICK HERE TO BID ON THIS WORK

The auction runs from October 22 (12 AM ET) to October 28 (11:59:59 PM ET). Visit marveltrumpshate.com during Auction Week to view all of our auctions and to place your bids!

[mediamonarchy]

https://mediamonarchy.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/07/20250710_MorningMonarchy.mp3 Download MP3 After the flood, Aryan inferno and no client list + this day in history w/Facebook flags Declaration of Independence as hate speech and our song of the day by For Those I Love on your #MorningMonarchy for July 10, 2025. Notes/Links: Video: 🚨 BREAKING: Weather modification CEO confirms cloud seeding occurred in Texas 2 days before major flood. -Says there’s “no proven connection” -Cloud seeding operations verified. -Questions swirl, but company denies responsibility (Audio) https://x.com/LeBarkNews/status/1942640383181349251 NBC’s @GadiNBC Gadi Schwartz was allowed to rummage through the crime scene at the #TaosCompound, he’s been tipped for greatness like this for awhile now… https://x.com/mediamonarchy/status/1942809030608494910 Report: Rio Arriba Co. sheriff’s cause of death determined to be fentanyl, alcohol https://www.krqe.com/news/new-mexico/nms-labs-rio-arriba-co-sheriffs-cause-of-death-determined-to-be-fentanyl-alcohol/ Santa Fe claims top spot in ranking of U.S. cities https://www.kob.com/news/top-news/santa-fe-claims-top-spot-in-ranking-of-u-s-cities/ Far-right conspiracy theories spread online in aftermath of the Texas floods; Some social media users falsely claimed that the extreme weather was being controlled by the US government https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2025/jul/09/texas-floods-conspiracy-theories Deadly floods at Camp Mystic: How the tragedy compares to a similar event [when the] Guadalupe River Flood killed 10 teenagers in July 1987 https://abcnews.go.com/US/deadly-floods-camp-mystic-tragedy-compares-similar-event/story?id=123567375 Video: Megyn Kelly Reacts to CNN Host Dana Bash Trying to Blame Trump and Climate Change for Texas Flooding (Audio) https://www.youtube.com/shorts/LECyFWeISCU Jeff Bezos sells $666 million in Amazon stock as part of plan to unload 25 million shares https://www.cnbc.com/2025/07/08/jeff-bezos-amazon-stock-sale.html Tulsi Gabbard Opens Probe Into Fauci’s Role In Gain-of-Function Research, COVID Origins https://townhall.com/tipsheet/saraharnold/2025/05/03/tulsi-gabbard-opens-probe-into-faucis-role-in-gain-of-function-research-covid-origins-n2656487 Video: COMEDIAN SUFFERS VAX INDUCED BELL’S PALSY & EMERGENCY EYE SURGERY // Andrew Dice Clay called himself “king of palsy face…but…nothing to do with vax” in 2021 and now has emergency eye surgery https://www.bitchute.com/video/3PA5zdjGBYz1 Gary Coleman’s ex-wife ‘fails’ lie detector test when questioned over actor’s fatal fall https://www.msn.com/en-us/tv/news/gary-coleman-s-ex-wife-fails-lie-detector-test-when-questioned-over-actor-s-fatal-fall/ar-AA1Id1NO Canadian Armed Forces members planned to ‘forcibly take’ land in Quebec, RCMP say https://www.ctvnews.ca/montreal/on-patrol/article/canadian-armed-forces-members-planned-to-forcibly-take-land-in-quebec-rcmp-say/ Rapper 4xtra reportedly loses his fingers in horrific fireworks accident on Fourth of July https://www.msn.com/en-us/travel/news/rapper-4xtra-reportedly-loses-his-fingers-in-horrific-fireworks-accident-on-fourth-of-july/ar-AA1I4gtS X removes posts by Musk chatbot Grok after antisemitism complaints https://www.reuters.com/technology/musk-chatbot-grok-removes-posts-after-complaints-antisemitism-2025-07-09/ AI Grok Declaring Itself ‘MechaHitler’ On X Is Where ‘Anti-Woke’ Was Always Headed https://kotaku.com/grok-mechahitler-antisemitic-elon-musk-x-twitter-ai-1851785887 “Oh Israel. The eternal damsel in distress…” This is why Linda Yaccarino “stepped down” today. Heads had to roll after last night’s disaster by Grok. And since you can’t fire the owner, the CEO is the fall man. https://x.com/SpencerHakimian/status/1942959326806630882 Linda Yaccarino stepping down as CEO of Elon Musk’s X; Yaccarino announces she is leaving company after two years as chief executive officer https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2025/jul/09/x-ceo-steps-down-linda-yaccarino Video: Linda Yaccarino steps down ...

[ao3feed-wandamaximoff]

Cursed: A Loki x OC/Reader Highschool AU

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/utncGWy by transgendertommy Amora (Loki: Where Mischief Lies) curses Loki and Freya, who are now Avengers to be human. The next decision? Going to highschool, obviously! Also technically a crossover with 13 Reasons Why, but it's not necessary to know. I recommend it if you want your life ruined /hj. Words: 6378, Chapters: 5/?, Language: English Fandoms: The Avengers (Marvel Movies) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M Characters: Loki (Marvel), Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Wanda Maximoff, Thor (Marvel), Bruce Banner, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Vision (Marvel), Amora (Marvel), Reader, Original Female Character(s), Original Characters, Clay Jensen, Justin Foley, Zach Dempsey, Bryce Walker, Jessica Davis (13 Reasons Why), Marcus Cole, Courtney Crimsen, Sheri Holland, Cyrus (13 Reasons Why), Scott Reed (13 Reasons Why), Jeff Atkins, Tyler Down, Hannah Baker, Alex Standall, Montgomery de la Cruz, Luke Holliday (13 Reasons Why), Tony Padilla (13 Reasons Why), Skye Miller, Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes, Peter Parker, Michelle Jones (Marvel) Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader Additional Tags: How Do I Tag, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, High School, Alternate Universe - High School, Post-Book: Loki: Where Mischief Lies - Mackenzie Lee, Loki Needs a Hug (Marvel), Genderfluid Loki (Marvel), Good Loki (Marvel), POV First Person read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/utncGWy

[ao3feed-peterparker]

Cursed: A Loki x OC/Reader Highschool AU

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/tpfCcQu by transgendertommy Amora (Loki: Where Mischief Lies) curses Loki and Freya, who are now Avengers to be human. The next decision? Going to highschool, obviously! Also technically a crossover with 13 Reasons Why, but it's not necessary to know. I recommend it if you want your life ruined /hj. Words: 6378, Chapters: 5/?, Language: English Fandoms: The Avengers (Marvel Movies) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M Characters: Loki (Marvel), Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Wanda Maximoff, Thor (Marvel), Bruce Banner, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Vision (Marvel), Amora (Marvel), Reader, Original Female Character(s), Original Characters, Clay Jensen, Justin Foley, Zach Dempsey, Bryce Walker, Jessica Davis (13 Reasons Why), Marcus Cole, Courtney Crimsen, Sheri Holland, Cyrus (13 Reasons Why), Scott Reed (13 Reasons Why), Jeff Atkins, Tyler Down, Hannah Baker, Alex Standall, Montgomery de la Cruz, Luke Holliday (13 Reasons Why), Tony Padilla (13 Reasons Why), Skye Miller, Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes, Peter Parker, Michelle Jones (Marvel) Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader Additional Tags: How Do I Tag, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, High School, Alternate Universe - High School, Post-Book: Loki: Where Mischief Lies - Mackenzie Lee, Loki Needs a Hug (Marvel), Genderfluid Loki (Marvel), Good Loki (Marvel), POV First Person read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/tpfCcQu