[harbours-lighthouse]

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multi-fandom & sfw blog. i write mainly for jason todd, leon kennedy, and simon riley, but certainly other characters in the future !! thank you for being here <33

if you're tagged in general for a specific fandom i write for, you do not have to read what i've tagged you in if what i've written has themes that make you uncomfortable. believe me, it's okay !! there's bound to be plenty of other fics for you to enjoy anyways <3

[schnoobums]

IRON LUNG (2026) dir. Markiplier

[99fish]

hi heres the entire twilight movie as a stamp

[harbours-lighthouse]

TO MOVE SLOWLY FROM SIDE TO SIDE

ryland grace x fem!reader

✦ tags: angst; hurt/comfort; one (1) use of y/n.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

You found Ryland and asked him to hold you. 

It was a vulnerable thing to request, and a sharp lump sat in your throat. Your hands shook with nerves. You wanted to explain yourself, create a sort of a scientific graph with all of your emotional data and present it to Ryland like you’re doing nothing but a simple task on the ship. But human things—messy human things—rarely made themselves easy to communicate. Least of all in a scientific way. 

All you knew was that the strangled feeling stuck inside your chest were all different colours. One was coloured grief, the other anger, and another as guilt. You’re still trying to recall the memories that explain that one, but you’re terrified of what you might find. 

You fidgeted with your hands in front of your stomach, confidence shrinking by the second. 

“If it’s okay with you?” you added quietly. 

Ryland’s face had morphed from confused, to concerned, to hesitant (but not unwilling). He stepped closer to bring his hands to yours, gently prying them apart and guiding them upward. You followed his silent instructions, and wrapped your arms around his neck. 

You heard him expel a breath, somewhat shakily. 

“This okay?” Ryland asked, and his arms folded behind you, pressing into the small of your back. 

You nearly sobbed (you should be asking him that), but choked back the sound by pressing your nose into his shoulder. In many ways, Ryland continuously reminded you that regardless of the situations he found himself in, he gave up his comfort (and his physical body) to help. He was a constant string of sacrifices, an endless loop of giving. 

It made an ugly feeling strike through your gut. When was the last time he asked for something in return? 

Closing your eyes, you sunk deeper into Ryland’s hold and hoped to convey wordlessly that he could hold you the way he needed to. That he could hold you tight; grip you selfishly.  

The seconds ticked by, and the awkward silence that had settled over the ship began to morph into something softer. You realised that Rocky was also in the room, but hadn’t made a single sound. Not even his translator echoed mechanically in the air, asking questions.

Ryland quietly cleared his throat. “Did you want to—uh, talk… about it?” 

His question was followed by his thumb rubbing a small crescent into your back. You turned your head to press your cheek against Ryland’s shoulder, gaze idly running along the floor. 

“No,” you murmured. “But thanks for asking.” 

Ryland nodded his head, exhaling through his nose. After a short moment, you felt his cheek press against the side of your head. 

You couldn’t say when the two of you began to sway, but, at some point, your heart rates had synced with one another, beating in tandem while your bodies rocked side to side. There wasn’t any music to accompany you; you weren’t sharing a romantic dance.

Your lips briefly twitched with a faint smile as you imagined Rocky asking you about it. 

Why Grace and Y/N move to side on repeat. Question. 

You weren’t good with numbers or molecular biology like Ryland, but you knew a lot about the human body. And you knew that people rocked themselves when they needed comfort. Maybe Eridians did something similar? You’d explain it to the overly enthusiastic alien, but the thought left you when Ryland moved his hand up your back, palm splayed against your spine.

“This is nice,” Ryland whispered.

You hummed, and tears crowded the edges of your vision. 

“Same time tomorrow?”

You let out a wet giggle, muffling it into his shirt. 

Ryland let out a soft huff, his smile trailing after his breath and hidden from view.

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

thank you for reading, God bless <3

© harbours-lighthouse 2025-PRESENT / I do not give permission for my work to be reposted, translated, or fed into AI.

[bebemoon]

"can our ai assistant help you?" "give our ai mode a try !" "our ai assistant is your new best friend !"

[loveridden1999]

we are in a true love recession

[tabris-the-seventeenth-angel]

HEARTBREAKING: friends who i should be going to the movies and playing dnd and watching anime and cosplaying and going to the mall and having sleepovers and exploring the woods with live one hundred trillion miles away

[harbours-lighthouse]

"you've already left kudos here :)" nynynynynyahnyah. that's what you sound like, nynynynyah.

[petaltexturedskies]

Katherine Mansfield, in a diary entry dated 14 October 1922, from Letters and Journals of Katherine Mansfield

[oldbutchdanielmolloy]

has anybody heard of writing / knows anything about how to do it

[ellynneversweet]

Darcy’s introduction in Pride and Prejudice is really ‘what if you had just had the worst month of your life because your ex-bestie tried to lover boy scam your baby sister out of her share of your dad’s life insurance and your friend dragged you to a shitty party in a dive bar in the neighbourhood where he’d just signed a short term lease, and you decided to let your bad mood show because you were never going to see any of the assholes in this stupid shitty bar EVER again. And your friend ended up making out with a girl he’d just met there while you were stuck talking to her sister who was less cute and then her mother appeared and started trying to matchmake and started saying how if she was twenty years younger she’d clime you like a redwood and ooooh is that a black Amex, guess the next round is on you hahhahahahaha, while her other sister (how many fucking sisters does she have?!) flashed an obviously fake ID at the bar and ordered six vodka-diet red bulls and no one in her family except the less-cute sister even tried to stop her. And you went home and consoled yourself that you would never see any of these people again but then you met them over and over again because they live next door and your friend and the cute sister keep meeting up to make out but not actually date and then. You fall in love with the less-cute sister because it turns out she’s really witty and charismatic but she already knows and remembers and resents the fact that on a day when you were in a shitty mood you called her mid out loud in a dive bar.’

[fujokafka]

we need to bring back old school tumblr communication and im so serious. sending an ask to a mutual just to say hello. seeing three different asks in your inbox all asking how your dentist appointment went. seeing a post you think one of your mutuals would enjoy and tagging them/sending it to them in the dms. nowadays its just silently liking a post or (if youre feeling extreme) replying under posts. WHAT HAPPENED TO US!! we used to be a proper community!!!! #LetsBringWhimsyBack

[andthelaw]

reblog if you want ppl to send you random lil' asks

[harbours-lighthouse]

TO MOVE SLOWLY FROM SIDE TO SIDE

ryland grace x fem!reader

✦ tags: angst; hurt/comfort; one (1) use of y/n.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

You found Ryland and asked him to hold you. 

It was a vulnerable thing to request, and a sharp lump sat in your throat. Your hands shook with nerves. You wanted to explain yourself, create a sort of a scientific graph with all of your emotional data and present it to Ryland like you’re doing nothing but a simple task on the ship. But human things—messy human things—rarely made themselves easy to communicate. Least of all in a scientific way. 

All you knew was that the strangled feeling stuck inside your chest were all different colours. One was coloured grief, the other anger, and another as guilt. You’re still trying to recall the memories that explain that one, but you’re terrified of what you might find. 

You fidgeted with your hands in front of your stomach, confidence shrinking by the second. 

“If it’s okay with you?” you added quietly. 

Ryland’s face had morphed from confused, to concerned, to hesitant (but not unwilling). He stepped closer to bring his hands to yours, gently prying them apart and guiding them upward. You followed his silent instructions, and wrapped your arms around his neck. 

You heard him expel a breath, somewhat shakily. 

“This okay?” Ryland asked, and his arms folded behind you, pressing into the small of your back. 

You nearly sobbed (you should be asking him that), but choked back the sound by pressing your nose into his shoulder. In many ways, Ryland continuously reminded you that regardless of the situations he found himself in, he gave up his comfort (and his physical body) to help. He was a constant string of sacrifices, an endless loop of giving. 

It made an ugly feeling strike through your gut. When was the last time he asked for something in return? 

Closing your eyes, you sunk deeper into Ryland’s hold and hoped to convey wordlessly that he could hold you the way he needed to. That he could hold you tight; grip you selfishly.  

The seconds ticked by, and the awkward silence that had settled over the ship began to morph into something softer. You realised that Rocky was also in the room, but hadn’t made a single sound. Not even his translator echoed mechanically in the air, asking questions.

Ryland quietly cleared his throat. “Did you want to—uh, talk… about it?” 

His question was followed by his thumb rubbing a small crescent into your back. You turned your head to press your cheek against Ryland’s shoulder, gaze idly running along the floor. 

“No,” you murmured. “But thanks for asking.” 

Ryland nodded his head, exhaling through his nose. After a short moment, you felt his cheek press against the side of your head. 

You couldn’t say when the two of you began to sway, but, at some point, your heart rates had synced with one another, beating in tandem while your bodies rocked side to side. There wasn’t any music to accompany you; you weren’t sharing a romantic dance.

Your lips briefly twitched with a faint smile as you imagined Rocky asking you about it. 

Why Grace and Y/N move to side on repeat. Question. 

You weren’t good with numbers or molecular biology like Ryland, but you knew a lot about the human body. And you knew that people rocked themselves when they needed comfort. Maybe Eridians did something similar? You’d explain it to the overly enthusiastic alien, but the thought left you when Ryland moved his hand up your back, palm splayed against your spine.

“This is nice,” Ryland whispered.

You hummed, and tears crowded the edges of your vision. 

“Same time tomorrow?”

You let out a wet giggle, muffling it into his shirt. 

Ryland let out a soft huff, his smile trailing after his breath and hidden from view.

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

thank you for reading, God bless <3

© harbours-lighthouse 2025-PRESENT / I do not give permission for my work to be reposted, translated, or fed into AI.

[frailbug]

you think that you're so alone in the world then you read literature from hundreds of years ago and you realize that other people have always felt this way

[aidashakur]

“Do you love me” are you aware that my heart is trying to crawl out of my chest to get to you

[technofinch]

I have GOT to stop spending $30

[rhinco]

i love you semicolon. no one look at my 80 word sentence