#Engineered Wood bookshelf

[tejuskumar13]

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[anmolsmsblog]

Amazon Brand - Solimo 6 Layer Engineered Wood Bookshelf | Multipurpose Home Decor Storage Rack | Showcase Organizer for Living Room, Kitchen, Bedroom, Office |Brown

Price: (as of – Details) From the manufacturer Functional Design Ideal for offices, bedrooms, and bathrooms. Spacious Bookcase Six open shelves for books, plants, and collections Stylish Look Enhances the decor of any room. Multi-Purpose Use Suitable for living rooms, halls, or any area needing organization. 1 Spacious Bookcase 2 Stylish Look 3 Multi-Purpose Use Versatile & Efficient Functions…

[nebulousnoiz]

Contemporary Home Office Mid-sized trendy freestanding desk dark wood floor study room photo with no fireplace and white walls

[samfurniture88]

Buy SamDecors Solid Wood Shoe Rack with Four Compartments.  It can be used as a filing cabinet. It can also be used as a bookshelf in your study or as a shoe rack at the entrance of homes or offices.

[soullessdianthus]

Stalker!Ghost

w: stalking turned into kidnapping, simon being weirdo and obsessive, intoxication, implied drugging?, not proof read!

Ghost’s therapist suggested that he should look for another purpose in life than service in the military. Than getting his hands dirty and bloody. He was over thirty now and needed to find something to cling to in between deployments – a new hobby, an interesting course, an intriguing book, perhaps a lover? So Simon did take leave for a couple of weeks.

And soon afterwards he manages to find his new purpose, when you accidentally bumped into his broad chest on the street. Such a petrified yet kind creature you were, smiling at his cold gaze. That object of his desires was you.

Stalker!Ghost takes watching over you as a point of honor, to make sure nobody bothered you, no creeps followed you home. Oh he knew your address by now, because Simon had to make sure you returned from work safely. And he was so patient. The soldier kept his distance watching over from his car, hidden between the shadows.

However, Stalker!Ghost became bolder, sneaking into your home when you were out. His massive figure looming around your personal spaces not even hesitating before digging straight to the panties drawer. 

Simon would stuff one pair of your underwear at the time into his loose trousers – he might need them and your smell later that evening, at the confinement of his own house. This was the closest he could get to you, at least for now. 

But you couldn’t ignore the strange smell that lingered in the air as you just returned home. It was foreign, yet pleasant – a simple male cologne with a tint of burned wood. But you were living alone! And who messed around with your decor? You could swear that the hippo figure was standing next to the bookshelf, not near your plants. 

Stalker!Ghost wanted to be acknowledged by you, to gain your precious and sweet attention. He often wondered how soft your hands were, what your hair smelled like, what your laugh sounded like… how tight your pussy would squeeze around him when he finally lay his hands on you. 

Obviously you noticed the strange presence of that man at some point. He followed you like a shadow and it made you feel eerie. Simon, as you learned, happened to be shopping at the same grocery shop, sometimes joining you on a walk in the nearest park. Or when the engine of your car couldn’t start and he offered to give you a ride. He was your new friend, right?

The coincidences were a little too perfectly planned out to be accidental. 

The British soldier was so intimidating that you accepted his invitation on a date in a pub (not like you had a choice, he caged you in a corner). “Just this one time” you foolishly thought, before putting on a little, black dress that underlined your curves a little too good to be true for Stalker!Ghost.

To your surprise the date was going surprisingly well – Simon was a good listener, charmed by your personality and never pushing you to the dance floor if you clearly stated that you didn’t want to. He didn’t even try to sneak his coarse palms under the hem of your dress!

The false sense of security got you a little too tipsy – perhaps a few drinks too much got you all tired, overwhelmed and whiney. It was you who climbed into Simon’s big lap and placed your head over his shoulder. He smelled so nice, so familiar… And his embrace was warm. But it left you confused, you didn’t drink that much, didn’t you? 

— Tha’ enough for today, eh? Let’s get ya to bed, sweetheart. — Simon stated, brushing some loose strands of hair away from your blushed face and you nodded weakly. You didn’t remember when he seated you in the passenger seat of his car or when he helped you get through the front doors. 

And when Stalker!Ghost finally got you dizzy and cuddled beneath his bedsheets, he couldn’t be fucking happier in his entire, miserable life. At that moment Simon didn’t want to worry what your reaction would be in the morning, when you realized that the doors were sealed tight with you inside Ghost’s house.

[its-been-rose]

So I spent like 2 hours on this

Anyways, let me explain:

Methodology: to make this map I watched an unedited playthrough of the game and marked down how long it took to get from one scripted event to the next. I then inserted in the known times/save points the game gives you at certain intervals. I then calculated at what time each event would take place given how long the game takes to actually play, and then put those numbers to correspond with the actual in- game clock. All times marked with a ~ are approximate.

What I found:

The game is actually pretty much in real time, with some exceptions. There are some timeskips. If you’re playing a speedrun, you’re gonna come in at like 3:30, and the game ends roughly at 4 am ish. This means that if you do everything super fast and don’t waste any time, the game timeskips about half an hour here and there. I tried to account for these timeskips where they occur in my map like adding two minutes when Roddy’s song is skipped. Some sections also take a bit longer than the in-game time. For example, the time from Maurice to Virginia to Eugene to Murphy is much longer irl than it is in-universe, meaning no matter who is doing what kill, they are BOOKING IT from victim to victim.

Who did what: so my choices of who did what kill rely on two things: one, proximity to the confirmed kills/scripted events, and two, my own personal headcanons for who did which. I will now put the game’s timeline in order as well as who did what. Please keep in mind anything happening within KFAM like ponty’s calls or the little Peggy q and an after Maurice or Forrest being the rizz king to Sandra are not included.

~11:40 pm: sheriff Matthews is killed (Marie) (I didn’t put an actual time on the map for this because i don’t know if it’s right or not but in my HEAD, Marie started her attack at George’s TOD)

~11:55 pm: whatever the opening cutscene is (Henry)

~12:04 am: Leslie is attacked (Marie)

-Marie recovers from being shot at by the Sherriff and tased by leslie

~12:25 am: Sandra is attacked (Marie) (Sandra’s excact location is unknown but I put her by what is presumably a parking lot by the football field near the river running route.) (Sandra is not seen getting into her car because Marie takes a longer time to actually get into the parking lot due to being injured)

~12:25 am: Henry slashes the fire engine tires and makes his way up to Maurice.

~12:47 am: Maurice reports a break in (Henry)

-Henry is locked in the archive for like 10 minutes

-Marie drops off the tape on her way to get Henry

-when she breaks him out, they hear Murphy acting a fool, but Marie tells henry to stick to his current target before going up to the maze.

~1:20 am: Marie calls Virginia because she has the phone and sends Henry on his way (Virginia’s location is also unknown so I just guessed)

~1:35 am: Henry goes to attack Virginia but is scared off by the frat. Immediately books it to Murphy.

~1:40 am: Eugene is attacked (Marie)

-marie, on her way to the graveyard, sees the teens going to the murder house and watches

~1:53 am: Murphy is attacked (Henry)

-Marie sees the prank unfolding and slips into the group

~2:15 am: the teens are attacked (Marie)

-Marie spends a few minutes at the graveyard visiting George and recovering from getting a bookshelf tipped over on top of her

~2:32 am: Forrest spots the whistling man outside KFAM when going to retrieve LRH (Henry)

~2:43 am: Marie and Henry meet outside the gas station to regroup (optional? Idk)

~2:45 am: the bomb is detonated (Marie)

-Henry goes back to KFAM to hang out outside as the last victims are personal to his mother.

~3:10 am: Ricky is attacked (Marie)

~3:18 am: Jason is stabbed in the woods (Marie)

~3:25 am: Casey calls KFAM now inside her house

-Marie kidnaps Teddy on her way to the school gym

~3:45 am: Henry enters KFAM and locks Forrest in the producer booth

~3:46 am: Interview with Teddy begins (Marie)

~3:58 am: Peggy confronts Marie

Thoughts? Do you agree or disagree? What would you change? Do you think this was a complete waste of my Sunday evening? I’d love to hear your thoughts!!

*edited to add: I changed Virginias location to make at least a little more sense lol

[kimyoonmiauthor]

A few gender things...

In light of people being A-holes over the Olympics and particularly mixing transphobia, racism (mostly anti-Black, but also anti-Asian), sexism, I thought I would do a list of a few things to ponder while people are being a-holes about it.

When I was in Middle school, we had intramural sports—soccer, baseball, dodgeball.

Some of the girls were legit much better than the boys.

That author who shall not be named has an intramural sport called quidditch. (which, BTW, is pretty much stolen from 2 games, both of which originated in China... which is kinda mind numbing considering that character...)

If she believed that boys were stronger than girls, then why, why is Quidditch intramural all the way up through adulthood? The positions also are interchangeable between the sexes. It's also a contact sport.

Back when I thought I was cis and dating a cis guy ('cause queer denial and not enough information on the internet)

He insisted, since he's the guy that he would build the bookshelf for me, which I didn't really need him to do, but he was one of those "guy role" assholes or whatever. And he really, really struggled with building the bookshelf. It was one of those kits you buy. Like Ikea, Sauder, etc. (but not from scratch). He could not figure it out.

I looked at it, being a child of an engineer and figured it out without swearing pretty quickly.

Likewise when he needed help refinishing a table, I knew how to do it and he didn't.

Why? I had the life experience by that point and had tinkered with wood quite a few times. I'd made a doll out of wood (to be fair, a pillar), I'd made a birdhouse from a kit. My Dad had shown me how to use a saw. My uncle let me use his tools in his garage.

But this ex was so held up with the idea of "weak women don't build things" that he thought I couldn't do it. But he insisted and I wasn't going to argue with him because he was kinda an asshole.

Gender ideology is kinda dumb when you're that strict.

This ex also believed in pregnant and barefoot in the kitchen, which he knew pissed me off.

Also told me that I wasn't skinny enough at 135 lbs and 5' 6". So yeah, asshole.

Let's play a round of what gender are these people from personality descriptions.

Person A

Likes Science. Is really good at math. Good at chemistry equations. Like salmon pink because they like eating salmon. Doesn't really understand emotions that well.

Person B

Like the color black and pink—those are their favorite colors. Loves nature and nature walks. Wanted to be a Park ranger. Dislikes going out too much.

Person C

Favorite color is Green. Likes drawing. Not good at cooking. Spends 2 hours preening in the mirror. Loves Shopping. Cares a lot about what other people think about them.

Person D

Tends to sleep a lot. Isn't that scared of heights. Has bungee jumped a number of times and to the point that to gain extra points in games will bungee jump more times. Has unbelievably good luck.

Person E

Scared and anxious about heights all of the time. Like even 8 feet off the ground gets to them. Nervous about everything. Has a wicked sense of humor. Wears glasses. Loves Ramyeon and will preach about the correct way to make it. A decent cook. Reports that their home chores are to wash dishes for their spouse.

I bet you guessed wrong. These things are gendered. But you can't know for sure.

As I pointed out life experience, and so on shape what they can and can't do which doesn't necessarily correspond to gender.

Olympics

The racism in the Olympics are already that Black women are "manly" and don't act "feminine" enough because literally a connection to slavery and the whole "Black people feel less pain" stereotype. https://www.aamc.org/news/how-we-fail-black-patients-pain

'cause if you're going to literally enslave a whole population of people, you need to dehumanize them by saying things like they feel less pain, all of the women are actually men (to justify that you know, white men didn't r*pe black women, though they absolutely did) and so on.

Literally trying to make them into Morlocks.

With Asians, it's the reverse. Asians were made out to be "hyper feminine" on the heels of—yes, you guessed it, institutionalized rape via treaties forced on India, China, Most of Southeast Asia, Korea and Japan. They aren't *that* kind of workforce. So you have to reframe the population psychologically in two ways: the men aren't manly enough and the Asian women are hyper white women. The white women who suddenly in the 1900's learned to fight for rights—like "how dare they" type of psychology. In doing it this way, you can argue the women that these men basically r*ped "wanted it" so they feel better about themselves.

Thus an Asian woman not acting hyper feminine is to these people "must be a man" and you know, Asian men are seen as "weak" and undesirable after years of fighting and reframing Asian men so Asian women wouldn't want them. This makes the Asian woman "less desirable" because they are "really a man."

And a quick reminder here for the white trans people who sometimes get amnesia, that author who shall not be named literally started with Black trans women. Which you keep glossing over every. single. time. Like, be intersectional and talk the racism too and invite black trans women in. I've been seeing an uptick of people who are "shocked at that author's racism from white trans faction and like—did you get amnesia, she literally started her path to hating trans people from hating PoCs and specifically Black trans women during Pride.

She was doing poorly on PoCs long before she was slipping terribly on the whole "But Dumbledore was Gay" I'm saying this: Get with it.

Anyway, the research has solidly shown that there are two factors to physical strength: socialization. If you constantly tell women what they do is weak and not worth anything, of course they aren't going to be physically strong. "Be a princess."

And the other factor is training.

Every terf out there when you point out that through training women can be stronger than men, go onto something like, "What are you talking about? We are talking about the average."

So you are saying that women can be stronger than men and can train and beat a boy at sports based on their interests...

and then watch them backpedal hard.

If you show them the stats for women who are better at marathoning than men. (Haha, apparently applies to sex too... but ace spec thoughts, I suppose on the weirdness of sex. Allos for some reason flip out when I point out how weird sex can be? And not weird in sex shaming way, but like the whole thing? Human sex in particular.) they start to flip out.

But sports in every freakin' ad says it's not just physical fitness, but mental fitness too. And then the people who want everyone to stick to white gender roles invented after the 1950's, because WTF is with some of their disciplining, somehow often think white mental acuity is higher than everyone else (you can test some white terfs on this by tip toeing towards it.) You can test them to see if they've ever left their country of origin too, because that often challenges your idea of what gender is and isn't.

Anyway, the point is, it's an intersection of these things, and often people are so entrenched into white gender ideals, they don't like being challenged.

I met someone online who was (not naming the ethnicity, not white) who blocked me because I pulled up folktales from their culture with cross dressing and trans people which were extolled in their culture as one of the top 4 folktales of all time and pointed out the shift from more fluid ideology of gender to a colonizer one and they couldn't handle it.

Similarly, I did this with someone who claimed to be from Nigeria (you can't trace this one easily). And so I pulled Nigerian tribe groups with the third gender category and asked them why are they working for the colonizers and from the name of the groups, you could tell it was native to Nigeria.

Terfs 100% work on a colonizer agenda. Don't tolerate it. And don't freakin' forget that the author hated on Black trans women to slip down the anti-trans train. Keep shouting it. Especially as a white trans person. Keep pointing out the racism. You have to recognize it's on the heels or colonializing racism a lot of these anti-trans people are working on.

Also, gender doesn't dictate much of shit besides what's "acceptable to wear" out in society which is ever shifting. I know a boy that liked purple pink and orange. Are you telling me that those colors are gendered, thus men can't eat carrots or salmon? I think people need to get off of it. Gender is the least stable bit about culture, at least to me. I mean 10 years ago, the gender thoughts of flexibility for men were different.

[howlsmovinglibrary]

18 and 24 if they haven’t been done!

18. How many books did you buy?

I don't keep track of this, unfortunately. I buy exclusively on kindle atm bc I haven't found a good third bookshelf, which makes it easy to purchase stuff without noticing :')))))))))

24. Did you DNF anything? Why?

I DNF'ed two books -

Rewitched by Emily Jane Wood. I've dunked on this book in pretty much every answer, but it deserves it. This book set itself up as a cosy fantasy about magical witch burnout, which (as someone who's somewhat burned to a crisp herself) appealed to me. But the cosy fantasy brainrotten tendency to avoid conflict entirely meant that there was just... no plot. The protagonist's 'burnout' established itself as 'this character is miserable because of a situation she herself has engineered and refuses to change because... reasons (not found)'. Add in the immediate one-dimensional demonisation of anyone critical of her behaviour, the overuse of the adjective 'cosy' to describe everything - just so you know what genre you're in, and the most lacklustre romance I've read all year.... Nah, lads.

Fang Fiction by Kate Stayman London. This book was just... bad. Like so bad. My other friend managed to finish it and get past the 10% mark (which is where I gave up), and confirmed it didn't get any better. Badly edited, exposition heavy, dull, boring, with jarring gen z and millenial cultural references that the author then points to and says '...did you get that reference? did you watch buffy?' Compelling heroine, but with an unfortunate tendency to shout 'no homo' while pointing to all her gay and trans friends bc she's a "good ally". unsexy, boring romance. a speech about how a 200 year old vampire connected to his korean culture... through modern kdrama. and the worst, most unforgiveable crime of all... unsexy vampires. DNF.

end of year book ask!

[tejuskumar13]

Buy Bookshelf Online Upto 30% OFF in India prices starting at Rs 3,799 | Wakefit

Shop bookshelf online in India. Buy the latest range of designs of bookshelf at affordable prices. Available in different colors, designs, and sizes. No Cost EMI | Doorstep Delivery | Free Shipping

[sumuraj]

Buy Bookshelf Online Upto 30% OFF in India prices starting at Rs 3,799 | Wakefit

Shop bookshelf online in India. Buy the latest range of designs of bookshelf at affordable prices. Available in different colors, designs, and sizes. No Cost EMI | Doorstep Delivery | Free Shipping.

[anmolsmsblog]

Amazon Brand - Solimo Glanville Engineered Wood 4 Tier Bookshelf (Walnut)

Price: (as of – Details) From the manufacturer Elegant Walnut Finish The Solimo Glanville Engineered Wood Bookcase comes in an elegant walnut colour with smooth edges. This bookcase is a sturdy product that brings function as well as a unique charm to any modern decor. Engineered to Last Long Made from premium quality engineered wood and European standard E1 board, the Solimo Glanville…

[iibislintu]

my food processor died - it was only three years older than myself - poor old thing, you were such a good friend

but when, in the end, your engine overheated so badly that you burned my fingers, i knew it was time

and like. i still have my grandpa's old office desk that he got used in the 60s, and my great-aunt's bookcase, and spouse's great-grandad's bookshelf and chest of drawers, and my dad's guitar and and grandad's jumper and.

things made of wood and wool last forever. plastic doesn't, and it's so sad because plastic was supposed to be the material of the future, and yet when it breaks it's broken

i want my things to be mendable, so that i or someone can fix them and have them be good for another 37 years

[hanahaki-disease]

What Would You Do For Me?

Hell or High Water - Percy Jackson/DC cross over

Summary:

“He knows that Dick will never be Jason, no one could ever replace him or even hold a torch to the brotherhood they had with each other. They were each other’s best friend, their partner in crime—Jason was there for Percy when there was no one there for Jason. But it was so comforting to know that Percy could have Dick be like that for him too, that Dick wants to be like that for him. That he was able to push aside whatever animosity he had, or still has with Bruce, to be better for Percy.”

****************************

“Hello?”

“Hello, Master Richard.”

“Oh! Hey, Alfred! What’s up?”

“I was inquiring if you could return to the manor soon,” Alfred asked.

“I’m heading over tomorrow, I promised Tim I’d help him with his one-handed back springs,” He answered. “I should be there around lunch, why? Is there something wrong?”

“On the contrary, master Richard, there have been some wonderful news that has happened, and it is urgent you return soon.”

“You’re making your famous chocolate chip cookies for dinner?”

“Master Perseus had returned home.”

“…”

“Master Richard? Young master Richard, are you there?”

“I’ll be there by dinner.”

—

It was quiet in the manor now, the silence a somewhat welcome chance of pace from the constant shuffling and movement that was camp. When Percy and Jason first moved into the manor, the silence was frightening. It kept them on edge. Quiet on the streets was never a good sign; it was the moments before a fire, before a mugging, before a gunshot. Quiet was the muffled melody of death in the winter, when the snow absorbed both heat and sound. They hadn’t liked the silence back then.

As time wore on, they found that they had rather liked it. They didn’t need to jump awake at every car honk or revved engine, the scuffling of feet didn’t make them turn their heads quick behind them. They could sleep with ease in the manor. They could simply be in the manor.

Jason had taken advantage of the quiet. His refuge in the labyrinth of old wood and generational decor was the olive green, hand embroidered chaise in the library. Gold thread wove in and out of the decades old fabric in beautiful leaf shapes all across the bronze branches of the artistically done tree. Azure birds and amethyst flowers broke up the sea of gold and green, glinting like the gems they emulated. Every time Percy saw his older brother on the chaise, legs wrapped up in a thick knitted blanket, nose in a book with the sunlight behind him, he would say that Jason mimicked the birds on the chair.

His brother would look up from whatever it was he was reading, mocked offense on his features, before throwing the pillow he had commandeered at Percy. Their laugh would echo in the quiet of the library, but it wouldn’t be so daunting. It wouldn’t sit heavy in the rafters and in the spaces between dusty covers and worn leather. It’d settle in the loved novels stacked by Jason’s side, in the bright windows that illuminated the room.

The library didn’t seem all that bright anymore.

A gloom that mirrored the gray clouds over Gotham dulled the library now, dragging the dark corners of the ceiling down. Pulling at the shadows in between the aisles, at the ashes in the fireplaces, in the cold that overtook that lingering warmth. Even Jason’s blanket couldn’t keep the cold out. It was a heavy, solid weight on his limbs, sinking Percy further into Jason’s chaise. His head resting on the arm rest, watching the dust mites float around in the gray light of the Gotham sun.

He knows why Jason liked this chaise in particular. It was near the window to be bathed in a healthy amount of light, enough to let him read comfortably without it being too bright. It was somewhat tucked into one of the corners of the room, hidden behind a tall bookshelf, away from sight lines in the improbable case of a break-in. That doesn’t mean that Percy didn’t have a perfect view of the entrances. The main doors were straight a head of him and he could see the spiral iron stair case that went up to the second floor. There was also a fireplace nearby for when the winter snow and wind beat against the window, the cold trying to weave between the grains of wood and the stone of the walls outside.

How many hours had Jason spent in this chair? Just, content to sit in the piece of furniture that Bruce’s grandmother had bought more than a century ago. How many of the books here had Jason read through? Light hands turning the delicate pages as blue-green eyes scanned the inked words, letting them paint their world in his head. Watching the characters dance and act to the tragedies and fortunes long dead authors created.

Percy picked up the top book on the stack beside him, the cold biting at his arm as soon as it left the minimal warmth of the blanket. It was Pride and Prejudice. The hardcover old and beaten, the corners rounded and the spine was creased with the white lines of use. The edge of the pages were soft, the way that old books were, and there was a water stain towards the back half of the book. No doubt from an accidental spill when the book was getting too good.

Inside, Percy ran his fingers over Jason’s name. “Return to Jason and Perseus Todd if lost” was written in blue ink beneath the dedication, the hand writing perfectly looped and curved to create their names that only could have belonged to their mother. Very different to Percy’s quick and uneven chicken scratch or Jason’s half print, half cursive scrawl. It was hard to read what he wrote in the margins, not because he couldn’t understand it, no, Percy has been told everything and anything about Jane Austen’s books. He’s practically read the book without having read the book. But he couldn’t seem to make heads or tails of the words in his brother’s handwriting, his dyslexia making it look like Russian cursive instead of English.

He didn’t mind it though. He was perfectly content to just gloss over the worn and loved pages, delicately tracing the scribbles of thoughts and predictions written in the margins and various colored sticky notes.

Percy missed his brother, the thought weighing heavy in his chest much like the blanket. He missed hearing him ramble about the book he was reading or whatever he learned at school. He missed waiting for Jason outside of Brentwood academy on the days he had basketball practice, the squeaking of sneakers on polished light wood floors and the inconsistent ‘thud’s of the balls. Missed the unimportant arguments they had about the most stupidest things in the back seats, at the dinner table, in the Batcave. He missed teaming up with him to go after Dick on the few moments he bothered to show up, laughing and screaming when he chased after them. His own smile a mix of annoyance and joy.

He missed Dick and he’d never thought he would. After all the guy was hardly home, retreating all the way across the country in Jump city with a team of heroes to call his own. He was angry all the time when he was in Gotham. Yelling at Bruce, ignoring him and Jason, only Alfred was able to bypass the cold shoulder he gave everyone.

Because despite the reluctant interactions and the tolerance he had for them two, Dick had still cared for them. He would still send the two of them birthday and Christmas gifts from Jump city. He would still make sure they were taken care off, pestering Bruce with questions about their health or their grades. He would still protect them should anything happen on patrol while he’s there. Nightwing guarding Robin’s back in the throes of rogues and villains, protecting him as much as he could while still letting the younger hold his own.

It had also been a while since Percy had even saw Dick in person. Video chats with his Nightwing mask on and the Titans behind him weren’t exactly considered a family call. And when he did come back to Gotham, it was because of a case and Percy did not want to don a uniform and fly around the rooftops. Last time Dick and Percy had been in the same room together was Thanksgiving almost two years ago. Jason and Percy on one side of the table, Dick and Alfred on the other side with Alfred acting as a buffer between Dick and Bruce. The tension then was as thick as the turkey and could probably be carved like one.

Still, Percy missed Dick. He wondered if Dick missed him too. Wondered if he felt at least a little guilty for how he treated them before everything that happened, happened. If he had been as heartbroken as Alfred and Tim had been when they found out he disappeared. If he regrets all he hadn’t said or did.

Percy traced one particularly small note in the book, his nail scratching at the ink ever so slightly as he let his thoughts consume him. Blind to the figure in the door frame, deaf to the scrambling and shuffling of feet as whoever they were searched the library. He had a feeling that there was something else in the room with him, like a sonar radar made of pure vibes beeping away in the general direction of the other entity. Maybe that was a demigod thing, a way to sense an ally or enemy while his head was preoccupied. Or maybe it was the bat-training he had, of just simply knowing he was being followed or in the presence of something else, to be on guard for whatever happens. Perhaps it was the Wayne fame that he gained over night all those years ago, the steady group of paparazzi that followed them to every gala and event or even when they went to the mall.

“Percy?” His head shot up at the sound of his name, letting the library around him come back into focus.

At the corner of the bookshelf that separated this little section and the edge of the main sitting area of the library, Dick stood wide eyes and out of breath. One hand holding the back of the couch beside him, the other open and at his side. There was a frantic feeling on him, as if he had run around the manor in some kind of craze, searching for something. Or someone. The muscles in his legs tensed, he wanted to get closer but something was holding him frozen.

Something washed over Percy when he realized who it was. It came crashing down on him like a tidal wave, clenching at his heart and glossing his eyes. The book in his hands forgotten and the blanket an annoying obstacle as he jumped off the chaise and towards Dick. That seemed to unfreeze Dick because it only took him a few steps till he was able to wrap his arms around Percy.

One arm wrapped around his back, the other at his shoulders, squeezing him tight and refusing to let go. Not that Percy minded, he held his own arms tight on Dick too, his hands fisting the jacket he wore as he buried his head into his Dick’s neck. He couldn’t stop the tears that stained the older man’s shirt, couldn’t stop the stuttering breaths in his chest or the trembling hands and arms clinging to Dick like a lifeline. It seemed like Dick was the same. Head bowed down, in Percy’s shoulder, a hand carding in the curls on the back of Percy’s hair, and Dick’s own tears leaving wet spots on Percy’s shirt.

“Oh my god,” He whispered like a mantra, voice cracking and breaking and he rocked them side to side. He pulled back from the hug, his hand holding tight to Percy’s shoulders and arms, and if confirming he was actually real and not some tangible hallucination. “How—how…what happened?”

“Long story,” Percy breathed, trying to get his lungs to keep the air it was taking in.

Dick grabbed hold of Percy’s head, his hands shaking as he cupped his little brother’s cheek, turning his head around looking for any scars or injuries he skipped over in his haste to hold him close. Percy wrapped his own hands around his wrists, grounding him where he stood. He needed to make sure this was real too, to make sure that Percy wasn’t dreaming and that he hadn’t fallen asleep on Jason’s chaise.

Red-rimmed blue eyes met red-rimmed green eyes before the corner of his mouth twitched downwards. He wiped away the wet streaks of tears on his cheeks, “I’m so sorry, Percy.”

“For what?” He asked.

“I was a shitty brother to you and Jason,” Dick confessed and it felt like a lump a built in Percy’s throat. “Neither of you deserved to be treated how I did, and I am so sorry. “

“No, it’s okay,” Percy shook his head. “I understand, I get it, it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, Percy, it’s not,” Dick said. “I was an asshole. Point blank. No arguments—but I want to be better. Do better. For you, you deserve it.” Percy’s eyes began to well up with tears again, his own mouth contorting as the clench around his heart tightened. “And I know I’ll never be as good of a brother as Jason was to you, but I’d still like to try.”

Percy dove back in for another hug, pressing his face into Dick’s chest and his big brother held him tight. It felt like part of an impossible weight had been lifted off his shoulders and he could finally relax., knowing that he had someone in his corner, someone to support him when he himself can’t. Relief was the word he was looking for, secure was what he was feeling right now.

He felt so safe, and protected, and loved. Gods, he didn’t think he’d be held like this ever again.

And isn’t that a sad thought? To believe that he was never going to feel the same way he had with his brother ever again, to allow himself to crumble and break knowing that he had his big brother there to catch him and help him stay steady. That he had someone who’d stand up for him and with him no matter what.

He knows that Dick will never be Jason, no one could ever replace him or even hold a torch to the brotherhood they had with each other. They were each other’s best friend, their partner in crime—Jason was there for Percy even when there was no one there for Jason. But it was so comforting to know that Percy could have Dick be like that for him too, that Dick wants to be like that for him. That he was able to push aside whatever animosity he had, or still has with Bruce, to be better for Percy.

“Just…” Percy began, his throat dry from crying and his lungs stuttering in their attempt to even. “Just promise you’ll try to be there when I need you, okay?”

“Of course, Percy,” Dick answered. “Whatever you need, I’ll be there.”

“Promise me, say it.” Percy pulled away, his green eyes locked with Dick’s in a serious gaze. Last time someone had promised him something, they had only done it for a personal gain, not caring about Percy’s little heart in the process. Bruce had abused the fragile trust Percy had placed in his hand. He didn’t want Dick to do the same. But when Dick looked back at him, his pinkie finger outstretched towards him, something told him that Dick would never do that.

“I promise to be a better brother to you,” Dick wrapped his little finger around Percy’s, holding tight to him. “I promise to care, worry, and love you like a big brother should, like I should have the day Bruce brought you both home.” When Dick moved his finger away from Percy’s, he pulled him in closer and pressed a kiss to the crown of his head, wiping away the few stray tears left on Percy’s cheek.

“Now, c’mon. Alfred made cookies, lets get some before the others.” He wrapped his arm around him, placing his hand on Percy’s opposite shoulder as he led them out of the library.

****************************

I promised, didn’t I?

PSA: BRUCE DOES LOVE PERCY. Percy is just blind and doesn’t see it, so in his mind, Bruce doesn’t care. (He does.)

Next installment is gonna have a little moment (a good moment) between Percy and Bruce that makes their relationship a little bit better. They don’t get a proper talk like this until later, but it’s something.

Thank you for reading!!!!

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