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#Enterprise Development Officer
jobsnotices · 2 months
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PACE Nepal Vacancy 2081 for Various Posts in Karnali Pradesh
PACE Nepal Vacancy 2081 for Various Posts in Karnali Pradesh: Project Coordinator, Construction Supervisor, Finance Officer, Civil Engineer, Forest Officer, Agriculture Officer, Enterprise Development Officer, Monitoring, Evaluation and Documentation Officer. Interested and eligible candidates can apply till 15th August 2024.  CAREER OPPORTUNITIES  PACE Nepal Vacancy 2081 for Various Posts in…
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sintoniasincera · 26 days
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Meu Office Original Microsoft com Office 2024 Preview - My Original Microsoft Office - With Office 2024 Preview
Visite meu site e baixe apostilas, veja entretenimento nerd, e muito mais:
Visit my website and download handouts, watch nerdy entertainment, and much more:
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jobsbuster · 7 months
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dcxdpdabbles · 1 month
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DCxDP fanfic Idea: Marriage trap the Office supplier!
Danny had developed an appreciation for office supplies. He didn't know where it came from; just that one day, as he was cleaning his parents' office, he noticed their invoices and Order forms were out of order, so he chose to organize the binders.
It was just to make things easier to find the information when Tax season came around, but he found a strange joy in locating the correct stamps to mark each form.
Approved with a little thumbs up.
E-mailed with a flying envelope.
Entered with a little arrow.
Scanned with a picture of a scanning machine. Completed with a little check mark. Even the Cancelled and its accompanying x-out circle made him feel giggly.
Before long, Danny went hunting from some dividers and was excited to assign colors to certain tasks. He even made sure to separate everything by the order in which it was completed. By the time he was done, he realized he had no more use for his stamps, so he chose to go about the rest of the office.
He did not sleep that night. The next morning, the Fentons woke to their office lab in its best state since they had moved in. Everything had a place, and everything was neat and tidy with Danny happily explaining his organization system- all written down and marked on colorful legal pads he found shoved in a box.
Since then, Danny would excitably talk about the newest pen, sticky note, paperclips, or paper clamps he had found. Often, they were in strange shapes- "Look, Dad, these are sticky notes shaped like toast inside a Toaster holder!"- and no one could tell why it bought him such joy.
Even desk organizers excited him, often seen changing up his things every once in a while with new highlighters or traveling pens. His two best friends were often spotted walking behind Danny at any store within a fifty-mile radius of Amity Park that sold office supplies.
But that meant no one was surprised when Danny eagerly announced he would work in an office until he had enough money to open his own stationery store. What was surprising was that Danny somehow managed to find a job at Wayne Enterprise right out of high school as an office admin assistant.
A high-ranked one. He was the right-hand man to Bruce Wayne himself, working as a personal assistant then anyhting else.
It was clear across state lines no one knows how Danny even managed to land an interview since Mr. Wayne asked for at least a bachelor in office management to even apply or that Danny seemed unworried about living in a crime-infested city working for the man that was target a lot due to his wealth.
Danny only talked about all the superb brands of pens and notepads he would get with his new salary.
What was more shocking was how efficant Danny was at his job. He breezed through his work like a pro, getting Mr. Wayne on time every time (no one knows how) and cheerfully gaining the approval of the board.
Danny often stepped in for Mr. Wayne, Mr. Wayne-Drake or Mr. Fox, quietly becoming known as "Third-in-Comand" at WE despite the fact everyone knew him as "just the admin assistant"
He was also known for being very excited to show his desk to the office, covered in cute or interesting supplies from around the world. He spent hours schooling through websites and making wishlists of things he wanted to buy and try out.
Danny Fenton was a gift among the staff. He ran the office like a smoothly oiled machine, employing new systems and communication means that errors rarely happened in different departments.
WE genuinely feared the day he would leave the company to open that store. They tried to bride him by offering to pay his entire college career and make him a head of any department he wanted, or even officially give him Mr. Wayne's PA position but Danny insisted he wanted to open his store someday.
A plan was hatched by a low-level intern who had personally seen Danny take minutes with an invisible-ink pen and black light at his interview, only to witness the man fight for his right to have a paid internship and full benefits.
He mentioned how convient it was that Danny was close to every member of the Waynes. Yes. Bruce Wayne made it clear he would not be adopting the boy seeing as he was too old for that but what if....they ensured Danny stayed with WE if they made it the family bussiness?
Danny could still be a Wayne. They just had to get him to marry into the family, and WE could keep the embodiment of an office employee forever.
His idea spread through the company like wild fire, and not long, every single person who's checks were signed by Bruce Wayne was gunning for a chance to give Danny and a Wayne a wedding.
(Unknown to them, Danny is the hero Phantom, who, upon learning Batman's ID, instantly asked to work for him in an office setting because he wanted to open a stationery shop one day. Feeling blackmailed, Bruce allowed it, thinking he would catch Danny lacking, only to....find out the kid genuinely loved his job? And was good at it?
His kids are close to him as fellow vigilantes and are unaware of the WE employee's goal.
Danny just really likes Office Supplies. It might have something to do with his Ghost Obsession changing, or it's a Specail interest. He doesn't really care for the reason)
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darkstaria · 3 months
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Yandere Batfam - Soulmate Soul Animal AU.
Chapter 4:
Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 5.
This chapter is brought to you by myyyyyyy🎉birthday🎉 woohoo 🥳 I hath aged
It's a little bit shorter, but I mean come on it's a unique chapter soooo it's cool guys I swear
Lots more Batfam content this time, albeit Tim centric. I'll balance it out in the future I swear! Also it's still platonic, but you could probably get a romantic reading from this a lil bit if you try
Taglist: @moonchild-artemisdaughter @jjsmeowthie @madine11-blog @xxrougefangxx @hadesnewpersephone @neerathebrightstar @mel-star636 @jaythes1mp @rosecentury @lov3vivian @gaozorous-rex-blog @victoria1676 @vrsin @silverklaus @ryukyuin @kurai-hono-blog @thisisafish123 @isawyourbrowserhistory @ain-t-no-way-bsfr @realifezompire @lunaluz432 @nickey-diano @sukiiluvs @sara0055 @alleakimlala @kdidgg @paperhermits @lavender-moony @alishii @emmbny @sirenetheblogger @fantasy-angelo @andrasia @vinnvinnvintage @nyra-42 @armystaysatnct @beyond-your-stars @starsdotalk @adeptusxia0
----
A few days have passed since your encounter with Red Robin. He hasn't shown up since, but another thing has.
Your work had sent you an email. An invitation to Wayne Enterprises, to represent them. According to them, your location was the closest to Wayne Enterprises, and so you were selected. You lived 50 minutes away from Wayne Enterprises. Their home office was 30 minutes away. You weren't sure who was doing the math here, but they needed some more practice.
That being said, you could notice a pattern when there was one. This was Tim Drake's attempt to get you out of your home. And unfortunately, it was going to work. You needed your job. It was perfect, remote, didn't bother you as long as you got the work done. Jobs like that were rare, especially in Gotham.
Not for the first time, you kinda felt like crying.
If Red Robin, your soulmate, was indeed Tim Drake, then what was this? Did he have you figured out? Or was he continuing the investigation?
You didn't know...
Refusing to show up would get you fired. There was no way around that. But, what if you couldn't go?
What if you were too injured to go? There's no way you could fake something, the bats are quite literally master detectives. That and your soul animal form would likely reveal the uninjured truth.
Maybe if you injured yourself?
No, no no no. That was a bad route to go down. If this meeting is to check whether you are soulmates with him, a matching injury on your soul animal form would be like a criminal and a suspect having the same tattoo.
There wasn't really any option here. Which, really, is just typical for the vigilantes of Gotham.
"Ughhh." You groaned to yourself, cradling your hands with your head. You glared over at Red, who had been showing up much more frequently these past few days (which was saying something, since all your soul animals were already by you 23/7). Red gave a small chirp in reply, some sort of smugness in its tone.
Maybe it was time to invest in wind chimes or something. You heard they can scare off robins.
You felt like you were going to need it.
~ ~ ~ ~
Tim's developed something of a guilty habit.
It wasn't a bad thing, per se. Nothing B would particularly frown at. Dick might even agree.
He imagined you wouldn't quite feel the same, though.
You looked especially fragile, as you slept. During the day your face was haunted by false bravado, a paranoid edge to every smile. Sleep smoothed out the lines of your face, giving a softer touch to your slumbering form.
You frown when he reaches out to poke your cheek. It's cute. His hand twitches for his camera. You're always cute, whether it's a small little frown on your face or beaming joy.
He's developed a new favorite activity. Alongside solving cases, he's now watching you. He wants to observe it all. From little habits to obvious passions, he wants to know everything. Hobbies, skills, loves, DNA. He'd only just found you, the answer to the mystery that he's been in since birth. He's had a lot of time to build up this obsession.
He wants and wants and needs. He can wait to take.
You are a light sleeper, but he's a quiet stalker. You don't always drink milk before bed, but when you do, you'll get a little more tired than usual. Your groggy face is cute, too.
He reached out, stroking your hair with the slightest of a smile beginning on his face. It was soft. It reminded him of you, your soul animal form. It had flinched away from him earlier, as it always does whenever they were in uniform. Finding that you do the same as a human wasn't so surprising.
They had adapted to your soul form’s skittishness. They could do the same again. His mind briefly flashed through some ideas, an ankle bracelet, a watch, a collar? If it was on the ankle, you'd match.
He broke out of his musings at the shift of movement. A flutter of wings. B’s soul animal flew down perching on a piece of furniture nearby as a vantage point. He smirked. Looked like he wasn't the only one feeling a little possessive tonight.
He must've been thinking of you. Not surprising, given that your soul form was scheduled time with him today. They had to work out a schedule, else there would have been a lot more stabbings. Not that it didn't prevent sudden abductions occasionally, thanks Jason.
That was fine though. B could have you tonight, Damian could have you tomorrow, Dick the next. Because Tim had the real you, right here.
And he wasn't planning on letting go.
There's a room he's preparing inside Drake manor. He’d put your name on it, but that would be too obvious if anyone came around. Instead, it would be his little secret with you. He's only just met you, but he has plenty of ideas for it already.
He didn't feel guilty for this. Not at all.
You were his as much as he was yours after all. If there was a problem with these feelings, then why would fate itself tie you to him?
If anything, the only guilt he’d feel is not telling anyone else. He couldn't help it, he just wanted you to himself for a while. He caught you, so he was allowed to have you.
But was that really guilt? Or just annoyance at the idea of getting caught?
An alert on his communicator made him frown, taking him out of the trance he had felt into. There was more he had to do.
A shame, but it was fine. He got to spend some quality time with you, taken a few things for the future. He’d make more time. And you'll have all the time in the world for him. But first…
Tim withdrew a specialty camera from his utility belt, raising it to his face. He adjusted a few settings, then…
Snap!
~ ~ ~ ~
You fought the urge to yawn. You have been so sleepy lately. You had to wake up especially early for today. Lovely.
At least today was the moment of truth. You'd show Red Robin for once and for all that you were perfectly normal, and not at all his soulmate. He’d lose interest, and your life would return to its domesticity.
The one good thing going for today was that you're somehow accompanied by none of your soul animals. A truly rare occasion that is ruined by the fact that you're instead visiting a soulmate in the flesh. If any of your soul animals do show up, you have your old reliable bag to shove them into. So, you should be alright.
Wayne Enterprises was a terrifying image, but you steadied yourself with the fact that your whole life’s freedom was at stake here, which was much more terrifying. After that you could get through the door. Security just letting you through after giving your name almost had you running out the door though, you'd admit.
The elevator ride was long and solemn, giving you time to think about everything. Maybe you should think about moving, staying in Gotham was perhaps a ridiculous sentiment to begin with. It was a shame though, you were a Gothamite through and through, you didn't want to leave the country your parents lived and raised you in.
Still, perhaps it was time to leave. Things were getting too risky. Thinking about it, Wayne Enterprises? Honesty what even was your life.
The ding of the elevator door interrupts your musings, an assistant directing you to Tim Drake’s office.
As you walk over, you can't help but listen in to some shouting coming from the room.
A younger voice is yelling. “Give me them! You do not deser-” The voice gets cut off, as an older voice yells back. “It is my turn, you do not get to just steal them!”
The younger voice starts up again, but so does the older voice, alongside what you can only presume to be fighting noises.
You just kinda stare at the door. You are a working professional, representing your company to the prestigious Wayne Enterprises. You came here with lofty expectations and responsibilities to fulfill. And the CEO… is fighting someone in his office.
You have no idea what to do.
A minute passes.
You started to think about signaling an assistant to come help, but before you could do so the fighting seemed to end with a shouted “Fine! But B will hear about-” you can't hear the rest, as the shouting returns to a normal volume.
A door is opened and slammed, footsteps retreating away from the office. You take a moment to appreciate the fact that Tim Drake’s office has two doors that lead in different places, because it means you didn't have to meet whoever he was fighting.
A second or two later, the door in front of you swings open. Tim Drake is facing you, his hair a little askew, and his cheeks a little red. He smiles, an easy thing. It's as if the sight of you brought it to his face.
“Welcome!” He waves you in, somehow not acknowledging what you just heard in any form. The objects in his office are perfectly aligned. Nothing looks disturbed at all. How?
He waves you over to a chair, settling into one himself.
“Well.” He begins. “It's nice to see you again, Y/n."
You hope this goes by quickly.
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Can you do a Clark Kent, with a mate? Maybe she gets jealous of Lois but doesn’t know why; an to get over him she tries to go out with another guy but Clark is like no. Your mine.
.⋆。Office Crushes。⋆.
Alpha!Clark Kent x omega!plus size reader
Little bit of Bruce Wayne x plus size reader
Your best friend has an office crush that seems to be becoming something more, maybe you should get your own office romance but not because you’re jealous- obviously
Warnings: a/b/o, jealousy, mutual pining, idiots in love, little bit of angst, protective!clark, fluff
WC: 3.1k
Minors DNI
Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library
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It was quite common for any office to have its workers develop a sort of infatuation with each other. A confined space where you spend upwards of 40 hours a week with the same people, feelings are destined to arise, especially when it’s such a large mixture of alphas, betas and omegas. Hormones tend to go wild.
You were proud that you had never developed an office crush, knowing how disastrous it could be if the relationship ended, but you doubted your best friend could say the same. Clark had a big heart that he always wore on his sleeve and tended to attract a lot of romantic interest from practically everyone in the office. And apparently, Lois Lane was the lucky one who finally caught his eye.
A strange churning in your stomach began as you looked over the wall of your cubicle and spotted Clark leaning on the small kitchen counter, head thrown back in laughter as Lois chuckled over her now full cup of coffee. You know you should have seen it from a mile away- they were constantly paired up for articles, their chemistry was unmatched and they were by far the most attractive people in the office. You had even teased Clark on occasion for how often he met up with her after hours for some new lead, calling them dates.
Evidently, you were right. And for some reason, it was really bothering you. You felt physical disgust as Clark bent down to whisper something into the smaller omega’s ear and down right nausea as she placed a hand onto his broad chest to steady herself.
You swallowed down the bitter emotions and forced yourself to return to editing your article though a sour taste remained on your tongue. Maybe it was finally time to get your own office crush and the perfect opportunity had just landed in your inbox.
‘Bruce Wayne Interview- I trust you’ll get this done professionally’. You bit your lip at the offer, not only would an interview with Gotham’s golden boy boost your career, but whenever you had encountered the alpha before, he had always asked you out and you had always brushed him off. It was a win-win for you, and maybe it would stop the inexplicable rage you felt when you looked up and saw the goofy grin on Clark’s face as he sat back down at his desk.
Your nose wrinkled as you caught Lois’s scent clinging to him. Your fingers flew across the keyboard as you quickly sent a response back to your boss, accepting the offer. 
You just needed a distraction and then everything would go back to normal.
——————
The tension in the conference room at the top of Wayne Enterprise was so thick you swore you could cut it with a butter knife. You cleared your throat and tugged down your pencil skirt, over-aware of just how high it sat on your plump thighs as you reclined in one of the many expensive seats in the room. 
Bruce’s eyes flicked down to where your hands were curled into the material of the skirt and then back to your eyes but not before stopping very briefly at your lips. “Mr Wayne-“ You began again, glancing at your notepad. The small talk had gone well as did the customary chit chat about any new scandal he happened to have instigated and the photos of the both of you for the article.
“Bruce please, I think we’re far beyond that now.” He winked and you swore that his tone held a bit of a teasing purr. Your stomach flipped at the blatant attention from the alpha but it quickly dropped as yet another wave of thick, bitter scent filled the room making you cringe away from the other man standing to the side.
Through a series of several unfortunate events, your usual photographer had fallen ill and his stand-in got hired from right under the company and left so the only person that even had the slightest bit of talent with a camera in the office was forced to come with you today for shots of the billionaire. And in the worst stroke of luck, that person happened to be the very man that ‘inspired’ you to take the job in the first place.
Clark shifted on his feet and you barely repressed an eye roll. He had been very vocal in his disapproval of the whole thing given how often the mogul had put the moves on you but none of his arguments had done anything to deter you, instead they only fuelled the fire.
Bruce’s jaw clenched and you watched in fascination as the muscles beneath his skin moved, although they were not nearly as impressive as Clark’s (you would never admit that out loud). “Well Bruce,” He beamed at you, “Wayne Enterprises has just introduced a new product line that promises to ease the severe heats often experienced by omegas, my question for you is, what about this product is so different from all others on the market that promise the same things yet all others have failed?”
The alpha leaned back in his seat, his muscular thighs spreading slightly, instantly drawing your gaze to the thick bulge that was perfectly hugged by the material of his pants. Your eyes immediately flicked back up to him but given the smirk on his lips, Bruce knew exactly what he was doing. 
“I’m actually quite proud of my team for this, they’ve worked tirelessly on development for years and I believe that it really shows. While other products are usually prescribed by doctors in the forms of ointments and perfumes that mimic the scent of an alpha, which almost never work by the way, we have gone in a totally new direction. Instead, omegas can buy these pouches at any pharmacy and when heated, they give off the scent of a pup.” Bruce gestured to the small bags that were barely the size of your palm that sat on the table next to him. They gave the appearance of a miniature version of a microwavable heat pack but he was right, if you concentrated hard enough, you could smell the mixture of milk and flowers that all babies had.
“It is common knowledge that the presence of pups actually help to lessen the effects of a heat whereas the scent of an alpha is far more complex to manufacture and can actually make an omega’s heat worse if they don’t have any other-“ he paused then, his smirk growing as the room seemed to grow smaller, “-tools to help them through it.” You barely suppressed a squeak and quickly ducked your head as if you were checking your notes once more.
You gathered yourself for a moment then spoke again, missing the way that Clark was glaring at the other alpha over your shoulder. “And how affordable are these products?”
“Wayne Enterprises are donating 2 million to women’s shelters throughout Gotham and we plan to sell them for less than $10.” As if anticipating your next question, Bruce licked his lips and continued. “While it is not feasible to gain a profit from such a low price, I would rather give them away to the people that need it but I do have a board that I have to listen to… sometimes.” He winked at you.
Heat crawled up your neck and settled onto your full cheeks. You squeezed your thighs together though you weren’t quite sure if it was because you were attempting to feign arousal or keep him from looking up your skirt. You laid a hand onto your notebook, shutting off your recorder, as you leaned forwards and offered him your other one. “Thank you for being so open to this interview, you have been a hard man to pin down.”
You could feel the way Clark’s body seized as Bruce’s smirk grew and his eyes twinkled deviously. “If it’s by you miss Y/L/N, I would gladly be pinned down any time.” He shook your hand with a firm grip, letting the tips of his fingers brush against your wrist. “For an interview that is.”
He rose to his feet and politely helped you to yours, steadying you with a hand on your waist as you wobbled on your heels. Once he was sure that you were steady, he ducked down and grabbed one of the unopened boxes of Heat Helpers (quite the cheesy name in your opinion) and gave it to you, along with a small piece of cardstock. “Why don’t you take this, a thank you for a great conversation.”
You flipped over the piece of paper to reveal a phone number scrawled on in pen. You gave him a questioning look to which he chuckled. “My number, if you ever want to have a one-on-one with me, with or without the tape recorder.” 
You swallowed thickly and stuttered out some kind of polite response before Clark ushered you out of the room, muttering under his breath about being in a time crunch. You were barely able to catch one last, “Anytime miss Y/L/N” before the heavy door slammed shut and you were quite literally pushed into the awaiting elevator by your friend.
As soon as the doors were shut, you were on him. “What was that all about?” You crossed your arms over your chest and gave him a scrutinising look. Clark refused to make eye contact with you, instead he stared at the elevator doors like he was willing them to open.
“He was flirting with you.” You rolled your eyes and looked away from the tall alpha. “And you let him.”
“So what? He’s attractive and available, as am I. It was only natural.” Clark’s shoulders tensed, his grip on his camera tightening until his knuckles turned white. The confined space was now filled with a bitter scent that made your stomach drop and your omega howl in displeasure.
“Why are you so concerned about this, Clark?”
The elevator doors opened with a ping and he quickly walked out. “It’s nothing.” He said and you knew you weren’t going to get anything else out of him until he decided he was done throwing a tantrum.
——————
“So have you called him?” Lois was leaning against the bar next to you, her drink half empty but the flush on her cheeks told you that it wasn’t the first one of the night. 
“Called who?” She rolled her eyes like it was obvious.
“Bruce Wayne! He obviously wants you too, I saw the photos Clark took. He’s fucking—what’s the word— enamoured!” You scoff behind your tumbler of whiskey which you had been nursing since Perry gave it to you an hour ago. The whole office had gathered at the bar down the road for an end-of-workweek drink and against your better judgement, you had decided to join.
Clark had been convinced into joining a game of pool, leaving you without anyone to talk to but it’s not like he would anyway. For some stupid reason, the alpha had been giving you the silent treatment for days and it was really starting to piss you off. You regarded Lois with a look but she was far too tipsy to get it.
“He was just flirting, he does it with everybody.” You dismissed it but she scoffed.
“Then why did he ask Perry for your personal number?” Your head snapped up, your eyes wide. “Clark didn’t tell you?” Evidently, your wide open mouth and lack of a verbal response told her everything she needed to know. Suddenly, Lois was very sober, a serious expression on her face.
“We were in a meeting with Perry the day after the interview and Wayne just strolled in like he fucking owned the place. He said how great you were and that he was hoping to get your number for a follow-up interview sometime soon. Clark said he would handle it, I assumed that he would have talked to you.” Her gaze travelled over to said man. “Shit I guess he didn’t.”
You slammed back the rest of your drink and without any sort of conscious thought, stormed over to the group of men huddled around the pool table. “Where the fuck do you get off Kent?” You snarled. Immediately all of the men seemed to find their phones incredibly interesting.
“I’m sorry?” He asked in that way too polite way he did that really meant ‘what the fuck is the matter with you’ but you were having none of it.
“Why didn’t you tell me Bruce asked for my number?” 
“There’s a lot of Bruces in the world, you’ll have to be more specific.” He dismissed.
Anger flared in your gut. “You know exactly what I’m fucking talking about.” You snarled, making Clark stand up straight and meet your eyes. In the dim light of the bar, his expression was far darker than you had ever seen before as aggravation rolled off of his powerful body in waves. “You had no right to keep something like that from me!”
“I had every right! He was just going to use you and then never talk to you again! I was protecting you!” 
“I didn’t ask you to!” The bar went completely silent as Clark visibly flinched but you were far too upset to care. “You know what, I’m done.” You raised your hands in surrender as you turned and pushed through the stunned crowd, your anger slowly trickling away into sadness.
The night air was like a punch in the gut but it also eased the tenseness in your shoulders. Taking a deep breath, you willed yourself not to cry. It wasn’t like you were in love with Bruce, but even if you were, Clark’s blatant disapproval of him and his distrust in your decisions made you feel incredibly small. And it was breaking your heart.
He was your best friend, he was supposed to be supportive if not a little teasing about your choice in men. He was supposed to console you when things went wrong, not say ‘I told you so’. Why did he get to control your love life while you could only sit back and watch him fall in love with someone else?
Your feet carried you further and further from the bar as the urge to sob was quickly becoming overwhelming. “Y/N!” You turned in time to see Clark throw open the door, the light from inside spilling out onto the street as he endeavoured to chase you.
“Leave me alone!” You cried or at least tried to, but then suddenly, the air was knocked from your lungs and you were looking up at the stars.
The shrill screech of a speeding car came from somewhere on your left as bright headlights illuminated the mass of a man above you before the sound was in the distance and darkness folded over you both. His weight kept you pinned to the slightly damp grass and you had the vague thought that you must be in a park of some kind, even though just a second ago you were standing on a sidewalk- or was it the street?
“Are you okay?” That was Clark’s voice but he had been so far away from you. “Omega?” He sounded distressed and for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why.
“Say something!” His huge hands were planted by your head and it was only when one of them cupped your cheek did you find your voice again.
“Clark?” His whole body sagged with relief and he let his forehead rest against yours.
“Thank god. I thought I didn’t get to you in time. The car came out of nowhere and you were so close.” You turned your head away from him, your eyes focusing on the bar… that was across the street… a block away. The glint of something in the grass catches your attention, Clark’s glasses. 
He looked so different without them and all your confused mind could think was just how blue his eyes were when they were unobscured by the glass. 
His button up shirt which was normally so perfectly done up was unbuttoned, exposing the tight material of something navy beneath. “What?” But you couldn’t get out anymore, not when he shifted his weight, exposing even more of what was covered by his shirt and you were stunned into silence.
The red ’S’ practically glowed as realisation dawned into you. His brows scrunched in confusion, following your gaze. “I- I can explain.” Your head spun as he yanked you to your feet, though his hands never left your skin like he needed the reassurance that you were still there.
“I was going to tell you but then I realised how much danger it would put you in and if you were hurt in any way because of me, I couldn’t even stand the thought. And then we had known each other for months and Lois said you would feel betrayed so I kept it a secret-“ You placed an open palm onto his chest, stopping him in his tracks. His mouth snapped shut with a click.
“Is this why you were acting so weird about Bruce? You thought he would hurt me because of you?” Your voice wobbled with emotions as your nails dug into his warm peck. 
Clark’s growl was shocking in its intensity. The vibrations shot up your arm as the ground shook beneath your feet with its power. “No, he would never even dare to fucking touch you. He knows who you belong to.” Your heart skipped a beat, this possessiveness was nothing you had ever seen from the soft-spoken reporter before. You knew that you should find it disgusting considering how he had been treating you but instead your veins filled with warmth.
“And who is it that I belong to? There’s no claiming mark on my neck.” His grip on your hips tightened which should have been a warning but the anger was quickly returning now that the foggy haze of danger had passed. “If I can remember correctly, you’ve been courting Lois, not me.”
“I’ve been asking her for advice on how to ask you out!” He said, exasperated. “I just couldn't find the perfect time to do it.”
“You’re an idiot.” You retorted before grabbing his black curls in a tight grip and yanking his mouth to yours. His body tensed but then quickly melted into you, groaning against your lips. 
Maybe you did have an office crush but it’s not like you’d actually admit it.
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The Feast!
Inspired by this post
Danny, now an adult, works as an engineer and tech developer for Wayne Enterprises. One day, he has to bring his daughter, Ellie, into work with him. Ellie’s school had been temporarily shut down after a rouge attack, and the campus isn’t yet safe for the students to return to.
Danny had been ready to call into work to request the time off he’d need to watch his daughter until the school could be re-opened. However, his bosses seemed to be aware of the situation, and the predicament faced by many of the parents who worked for them. And a company wide email was sent out advertising Bring Your Kid To Work Day! Wayne Enterprises was offering all employees with children too young to be left home alone unsupervised the opportunity to bring their children in to work with them for the week, as that was the timeframe thus far given for when the school would be safely up and running again.
Danny is relieved that he wouldn’t need to take any unpaid time off. Nor try to find a last minute babysitter who’d A: Danny could trust to watch his little star, and B: be willing and able to watch her.
When he tells her about coming to work with him, Ellie is ecstatic! She gets to see where her dad works! And she gets to meet his work-friends! She’s so excited! She wants to make a good impression, so when Danny has gone off to begin cooking dinner, Ellie begins to make plans.
The next day, Ellie has woken up early and already gotten herself ready. She decided to wear a large poofy jacket and a pink too too over the top of her jeans. She has her backpack, filled with things to entertain her.
Once they’ve arrived and Danny has introduced Ellie to a few of his co-workers and some of their own children on the way to his desk. Along the way, Danny and Ellie pass by several offices and a we meeting rooms. It’s in one of these meeting rooms that Ellie spots her first target.
She quickly slips into the room before Danny can notice she’s run off and approaches the young man, teenager?, hunched over some papers reading intently. He’s got bags under his eyes that rivalled Danny’s back when he was still actively protecting Amity. He looks like he’s living off of nothing but caffeine and spite alone, and hasn’t had a proper nights sleep in months.
None of the other various businessmen and women in the room have noticed her presence yet, as she silently wanders up to the sleepy boy-man. She reaches into her pocket and just as she’s about to pull out her little gift, Danny has burst into the room frantically having noticed his child has slipped away. Again.
All eyes are on Danny as he apologises profusely for the intrusion, swooping in to take Ellie’s hand. He’s still apologising, now to the sleepy boy-man who is looking at Ellie in awe, like he couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed her enter the room.
While her dad was still rambling Ellie quickly pulls an orange from her pocket and hands it to the boy-man. He takes it with a curious and perplexed look on his face.
“Ellie,” Danny sighs, “not again.”
Ellie grins and reaches into her jackets to pull out another orange. Danny swipes it before she can hand it to the businessman sitting next to the boy-man. She pulls out another one, and as Danny is grabbing it she slips from his grip and ducks under the table. Ellie runs to the centre of the room and unzips her backpack. She tips it upside down, and what looks to be 20 oranges spill out and roll across the floor.
With a feral grin, Ellie picks up an orange and throws her hands into the air in triumph, and shouts. “LET US FEAST!”
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vintagegeekculture · 5 months
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Because she was an intentionally mysterious woman initially only seen in a single episode, and before she got an on-air backstory in the recent streaming series, Star Trek supplementary material developed contradictory information on who - or what - Number One, the female first executive officer of the Enterprise, was. To my count, she has four different, completely incompatible backstories in the comics and novels, and this is absolutely unique in Star Trek, which usually keeps it consistent.
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Peter David, in his New Frontier novels, identified Number One as a long lived immortal human mutant (like Flint from the original series) named “Morgan Primus” who was an early genius in cybernetics and artificial intelligence, which is why the Enterprise computer has her voice. One of the names Morgan Primus assumed to hide her immortality was Morgan Lefler, and one of her daughters was Robin Lefler, Wesley Crusher’s love interest from the Next Generation Series played by Ashley Judd. Robin Lefler did not inherit her mutant ability to heal all injuries.
Alternatively, the DC Star Trek Comics of the early 1980s said that Number One was from an obscure planet of peaceful, open, friendly telepaths who resemble humans exactly, and that she was present at first contact with Starfleet. They explained that her blunt, direct, undiplomatic manner is due to her being from a telepathic culture that values total honesty. This would make her the first telepath on the Enterprise, with Spock and Arex coming later. Her planet was created before the Next Generation, but her species being a peaceful, open, telepathic race resembling Mediterranean humans who are not well known or commonly encountered in the original series era….well, that certainly sounds an awful lot like Betazoids to me. If this backstory is true, she may have been the first Betazoid seen on screen, in much the same way fans generally believe Trelane was either Q or a member of the Q Continuum.
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D.C. Fontana’s only Star Trek novel, “Vulcan’s Glory,” was one of the earliest attempts to give the character a backstory, and was the most consequential long term. The first novel set in the era of the first Star Trek pilot with Captain Pike and a young Spock, "Vulcan's Glory" identified Number One as being an Illyrian, a race of human-like beings who specialize in species wide breeding programs and genetic improvement. This genetic superiority is why she was cool, intellectual, aloof, and a bit arrogant. Her nickname “Number One” came from the fact she was the supreme product of the hyper-competitive Illyrian system, and won at everything from academics to athletics. According to DC Fontana, her actual Illyrian name is impossible to pronounce, so when dealing with humans, she assumed the human name “Una Chin-Riley.” Una of course, being “Number One” in Greek.
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As DC Fontana is such an important figure in Star Trek history and only actually wrote one Star Trek novel in her life, many future materials used the backstory established in “Vulcan’s Glory,” like the David Stern Pike-era novels of the 2010s....but more importantly, the Discovery and Strange New Worlds series, which canonized the “Una Chin-Reilly” name by using it on screen (I remember gasping when Pike called her Una in a Discovery episode, meaning they were going with the Fontana backstory, a detail that may not have been significant to the casual viewer). Since DC Fontana wrote “Vulcan’s Glory” in the 80s, a lot more information was learned about the role of genetic engineering in the Federation, however, and interesting things were done in that series to bring her in line with everything we’ve learned since in Deep Space 9 and Enterprise about augmentation and the society wide prejudice against it. For example, they established that the fact Number One was Illyrian was not public knowledge, but that she pretended to be human her entire life.
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The one person who didn’t see fit to give her a backstory or even a real name was John "Johnny Redbeard" Byrne in his comic series about the Cage era Enterprise, who thought the mystery of the character was the most interesting thing about her, and he was deliberately cagey about any details. To Johnny Redbeard, she was just “Number One.” There was a running joke that every time someone says her actual name, or when we see her personnel file, it was blurred out, or somebody’s thumb was over it, and so on. It was rather like the running joke where Mr. Burns never remembers Homer Simpson's name. Johnny Redbeard loves mystery men and women who don't talk about their past, since that was the characterization he famously gave to Wolverine in his X-Men comics.
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The one detail of Number One's past that is clear is that Number One in Byrne's comics is competent, mysterious, and has mystique, certainly, but she is completely human, without any powers. Byrne always got exasperated that his X-Men co-creator Chris Claremont added fantastical and far out details to the background of X-Men characters (like how Nightcrawler's girlfriend Amanda turned out to be a sorceress) because he felt "some people should just be allowed to be normal." Byrne always said his original idea for Wolverine's "true" backstory was that he was a Vietnam veteran in intelligence who volunteered for bionic experiments that wiped his memory, and disliked the idea he was immortal, and vetoed the very, very early Dave Cockrum idea Wolverine was an actual mutated wolverine who achieved sentience and a human shape (which early X-Men comics hint at). Byrne was reportedly enraged that they gave Moira MacTaggart a mutant power, as he saw her as just being a scrappy Scottish housekeeper.
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Johnny Redbeard didn’t give Number One a past (other than to show she was on the Enterprise's shakedown cruise with Robert April as a rookie officer), but he did give her a future, as he showed an older Number One as a starship commander in the Kirk era (aging gracefully with a white tuft like Tongolele), and later, a flag officer in the Motion Picture era.
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To what extent are these backstories compatible? Well, with what we currently know about Number One, that she hid her true species and status to avoid prejudice, it could be that some of the other versions were tall tales she spread to obscure her true origins. The John Byrne idea she served as an Ensign with Robert April in the Enterprise's very first mission hasn't been confirmed, but hasn't been denied, either. The Peter David "Morgan Primus" backstory is completely incompatible, but perhaps there are some elements to it that are true, like the idea that the early part of her career involved working as a computer engineer in artificial intelligence, which is why the computer has her voice.
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incorrectbatfam · 1 year
Note
Due to various circumstances, one of the batfam has to substitute for Bruce at the next Wayne Enterprises Board of Executives meeting. How do each of them do at that job?
Dick: I officially declare today Casual Friday.
Dick: *rips off pants to reveal Hawaiian shorts underneath*
Secretary: It's Tuesday.
———————
Jason: Here's a thought exercise for everyone. Say you're chasing a high-profile criminal like, I dunno, Black Mask, and you have one hour to locate his hideout in the warehouse district. With only a notepad and your knowledge of advanced ballistics, how many goons do you think he'll have posted around the perimeter?
Accountant: *raises hand*
Jason: Yeah?
Accountant: Aren't you supposed to be dead?
Jason: Irrelevant.
———————
Tim: To illustrate my proposed budget cut, let's use the analogy of assassins ripping out your spleen. To chip away at the layers of the body would be inefficient and take up more resources than necessary, whereas if we identify a streamlined path beforehand, we can make a quick slice and leave the rest of our time to focus on necessary repairs.
New employee, whispering: What's he talking about?
Veteran employee, whispering back: He's Red Robin. We just pretend we don't know.
———————
Stephanie: You, over there. How much do you get paid?
Intern: I don't.
Stephanie: Unacceptable. Follow me, we're taking a business trip to the ATM.
———————
Damian: From now on, Wayne Enterprises is a pet-friendly office.
Sales rep: Even my horse?
Damian: Especially your horse.
———————
Cassandra: *blinks*
Financial advisor: Huh?
Cassandra: *blinks*
Financial advisor: Of course, I should've thought of that.
Cassandra: *blinks*
Financial advisor: Yes, ma'am, I'll get right on it.
———————
Duke: So... what are you working on?
Web developer: *spouts off a bunch of design jargon*
Duke: Cool, cool. What about a comments section?
Web developer: Not gonna lie dude, I completely forgot about that.
Duke: That's okay. You look like you could use a break. Wanna get smoothies?
———————
Barbara: Why isn't the PowerPoint working?
IT person: The clicker needs batteries.
Barbara: And why doesn't it have any?
IT person: We ran out of double-As.
Barbara: A multi-billion dollar company and we run out of double-A batteries?
———————
Selina: *delivering a presentation*
Bruce: *walks in*
Bruce: Honey, I brought you lunch.
Executive: You told us you were out of town.
Bruce: I was. You think I can find burritos this good in Gotham?
———————
Kate: Alright ladies, I need to see those reports on my desk by the end of the day.
Researcher: Why?
Kate: …I've never had anyone ask that.
———————
Senior manager: Can we start already? I have places to be.
Alfred: Not until this conference room is spotless.
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This is it. Generative AI, as a commercial tech phenomenon, has reached its apex. The hype is evaporating. The tech is too unreliable, too often. The vibes are terrible. The air is escaping from the bubble. To me, the question is more about whether the air will rush out all at once, sending the tech sector careening downward like a balloon that someone blew up, failed to tie off properly, and let go—or more slowly, shrinking down to size in gradual sputters, while emitting embarrassing fart sounds, like a balloon being deliberately pinched around the opening by a smirking teenager. But come on. The jig is up. The technology that was at this time last year being somberly touted as so powerful that it posed an existential threat to humanity is now worrying investors because it is apparently incapable of generating passable marketing emails reliably enough. We’ve had at least a year of companies shelling out for business-grade generative AI, and the results—painted as shinily as possible from a banking and investment sector that would love nothing more than a new technology that can automate office work and creative labor—are one big “meh.” As a Bloomberg story put it last week, “Big Tech Fails to Convince Wall Street That AI Is Paying Off.” From the piece: Amazon.com Inc., Microsoft Corp. and Alphabet Inc. had one job heading into this earnings season: show that the billions of dollars they’ve each sunk into the infrastructure propelling the artificial intelligence boom is translating into real sales. In the eyes of Wall Street, they disappointed. Shares in Google owner Alphabet have fallen 7.4% since it reported last week. Microsoft’s stock price has declined in the three days since the company’s own results. Shares of Amazon — the latest to drop its earnings on Thursday — plunged by the most since October 2022 on Friday. Silicon Valley hailed 2024 as the year that companies would begin to deploy generative AI, the type of technology that can create text, images and videos from simple prompts. This mass adoption is meant to finally bring about meaningful profits from the likes of Google’s Gemini and Microsoft’s Copilot. The fact that those returns have yet to meaningfully materialize is stoking broader concerns about how worthwhile AI will really prove to be. Meanwhile, Nvidia, the AI chipmaker that soared to an absurd $3 trillion valuation, is losing that value with every passing day—26% over the last month or so, and some analysts believe that’s just the beginning. These declines are the result of less-than-stellar early results from corporations who’ve embraced enterprise-tier generative AI, the distinct lack of killer commercial products 18 months into the AI boom, and scathing financial analyses from Goldman Sachs, Sequoia Capital, and Elliot Management, each of whom concluded that there was “too much spend, too little benefit” from generative AI, in the words of Goldman, and that it was “overhyped” and a “bubble” per Elliot. As CNN put it in its report on growing fears of an AI bubble, Some investors had even anticipated that this would be the quarter that tech giants would start to signal that they were backing off their AI infrastructure investments since “AI is not delivering the returns that they were expecting,” D.A. Davidson analyst Gil Luria told CNN. The opposite happened — Google, Microsoft and Meta all signaled that they plan to spend even more as they lay the groundwork for what they hope is an AI future. This can, perhaps, explain some of the investor revolt. The tech giants have responded to mounting concerns by doubling, even tripling down, and planning on spending tens of billions of dollars on researching, developing, and deploying generative AI for the foreseeable future. All this as high profile clients are canceling their contracts. As surveys show that overwhelming majorities of workers say generative AI makes them less productive. As MIT economist and automation scholar Daron Acemoglu warns, “Don’t believe the AI hype.”
6 August 2024
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spideybatsy · 3 months
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Late Night
Summary: GN!Reader gets a cleaning job working at Wayne Enterprises when a certain billionaire playboy develops an obsession with them. Pairing: Bruce Wayne x GN!Reader WC: 3K Warnings: being watched without knowing, mentions of erections, nothing too serious. Notes: Can be read as any batsy you’d like, I personally picture Bale bc I’m a slut for him <3 This is the first chapter in my new series! I haven't written in a year, so be kind Masterlist
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The wind pressed against your sweat slick skin as you stepped into the shadow of Wayne Tower. A shiver rolled down your spine, half caused by the weather and half by the ravenous butterflies in your stomach. Starting a new job is never easy but God, you have never needed a job as much as you need this one.
The renewal of your lease brought a steep increase in rent at the same time as your boss announced he was closing the business. You couldn’t really say you were surprised, the bakery was definitely a front for something nefarious, why else would the GCPD come in every other week?
It was a shame, really. You loved working at the bakery, especially during those quiet moments when you could just sit there and watch the world go by. God knows you’ll be rushed off your feet now.
Cleaning wasn’t your first choice, nor was it your second. Hell, it wasn’t even on the list. But you were not in the position to be anything but grateful when your friend mentioned an opening at their work. The hours weren’t the best but the pay was surprisingly good.
You walked into the building and were immediately shoved by someone sprinting to the lift. Taking a deep breath, you regained your bearings, straightened your shirt, and headed for security. You’d been in the building only once, for your interview, but figured you’d need some sort of pass to get into the actual offices. 
The security man who served you was disarmingly attractive and you couldn’t help but blush as he ran his eyes down your figure. His hair was a dirty blonde, pushed back and behind his ears. 
“First day?”
“That obvious?” 
He chuckled, before asking for your name and looking you up on the system.  “I’ll just call your supervisor, Emily, to come down.” 
“Thank you.” The two of you fell into an almost awkward silence. “How, uh, long until your shift finishes?”
“I’m on a morning today, so I finish at 12. How about you?” 
“Well, I’ll usually be doing the 4 till 10 shift but they wanted me in earlier today. So, I'll finish around 3.” 
“Too bad.” 
“Why’s that?” 
“Well, I would’ve loved to take you out for dinner.” Were your cheeks on fire or was it suddenly just really hot in here? “Maybe it’ll have to be lunch instead.”
You opened your mouth to respond but was interrupted by Emily calling your name. 
“There you are, I’ve been waiting for you!”
You flashed a sorry smile at him and rushed over to your friend's side. 
“Hey, what’s that guard's name?” Although you knew he couldn’t hear you from here, you still whispered.
You cringed as Emily started to turn back, quickly reaching out and stopping her.
“I think that’s Russell.” She whispered back, “Why?”
“He asked me out on a date.”
“Really?” Well, no more whispering. You simply nodded your head, following her into the lift. “You don’t even have your access pass and you’ve got the men drooling. You dirty stop out.” 
“I haven’t slept with him!”
“Yet.”
“I’ll be telling HR you called me a slut.”
“Hoping they’ll sleep with you too?” 
You couldn’t help but laugh, pushing her slightly with your shoulder. As the numbers on the lift drew higher, the two of you settled down. Joking with your friend was one thing but you needed people here to take you seriously, even if you were just the cleaner.
“Are the people here nice?” You weren’t expecting your voice to sound so… small.
Emily looked over at you, affectionately bumping your shoulder. “Yeah, most of them are lovely.” 
“What about the others?”
“Fuckable.”
The lift doors opened and filled the floor with the sound of your combined laughter. 
—-
“And down here, you have Mister Wayne’s office.” You followed Emily down the hallway, looking into an office and making eye contact with an older man. You gave him a quick smile and was pleased when he returned it. 
“That’s Lucius Fox, he’s really the boss.”
“What about Bruce Wayne?” 
“What about him?” Emily stopped at the front of the last door.
“Well, it’s Wayne Enterprises, isn’t it?”
“Why don’t you ask him yourself?”
You couldn’t help but gasp as she threw the door open, jumping to apologise to the aforementioned man. 
Only, he wasn’t there.
Emily laughed, walking further into the room. “He’s hardly here, probably recovering from his drunken nights spent with supermodels.”
You hesitantly followed her in, amazed by the so-called office. This one room was probably bigger than your whole apartment. It definitely had better views. 
“I’m not sure you should be talking about our boss like that,” you mumbled, walking over to the floor to ceiling windows. 
Emily came to stand next to you, “it’s not like he’s ever here to hear it.”
“Don’t be so sure.”
Your breath caught in your throat as you jolted around, instantly fearing the worst. Was it possible you could be fired before you even got your first paycheck? How were you going to pay rent now?
You couldn’t tell if you should be relieved or not when you realised it was the man you’d smiled at earlier. Lucius Fox. 
“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Emily replied, turning back to the view. 
Oh my God. What was she doing? “Please excuse my friend, Mr Fox. I think she meant-”
“I know what she meant,” he responded while walking over. 
You opted to say nothing and pretended to look out the window, wishing for the tension to dissipate as quickly as possible.
“You’re scaring them to death, Fox.” 
The older man laughed, coming to rest his hand on your shoulder. “Worry not, dear. You’ll grow used to the banter.”
The tension started melting from your shoulders, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad, after all.
Within two weeks, you’d fallen into a comfortable routine. You came into work at 3:45 to make yourself a tea and read your book, before starting work at 4. You start at the side furthest from Wayne’s office, as they left the earliest. By the time you reached the common areas, the rest of the staff would be leaving, only Fox remaining. He was always the last one to leave, usually close to 7. You couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, since you knew he was typically the first person in the office too. So, you’d bring him a decaffeinated coffee around 5pm. You’d find yourself talking to him for a while, usually about stories from the past that you could both laugh about. 
Truth be told, you were starting to really enjoy the man's company. He had a dry sense of humour that you found hilarious. Being in the office late could be rather lonely, so you clung onto the moments you had with him. 
A positive of working alone in the office was that you could play all your music out loud. You’d recently gotten into a podcast where three friends read stories and discussed them. A lot of them were light hearted or ‘am i the asshole’ reddit posts.
Tonight, you listened to their supernatural episode as you finished up in Fox’s office when you heard a bang down the hallway. Slowly, you creeped to the door to peep down the corridor but there was no one there.
Maybe the ghost stories were getting to you. You shook your head and turned back into the office when you heard the noise again. Jumping, you looked toward the sound. The only thing down there was Mr Wayne’s office.
Clutching your mop between closed fists, you edged down the hallway. Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open and rushed in, hoping to catch the perpetrator in action.
Only the office was empty, of course it was. You couldn’t help the relief that coursed through your veins. It was obviously going to be empty, you had yet to see The Bruce Wayne in this room. You were starting to wonder if it had even been used. Maybe Fox should get this office, that way someone can appreciate the view.
You laughed quietly to yourself before turning off the podcast and putting on some tunes. That was more than enough scares for you tonight.
Unbeknownst to you, you were not alone. A certain billionaire had stumbled in here before his night duty, expecting to find the place empty as usual. He hadn’t been in for a few weeks now but things rarely changed this high in the building.
Then you’d burst into the room, armed with a mop and suddenly he couldn’t breathe. You were the single most beautiful person he’d ever seen. Who were you and what were you doing here? 
He couldn’t help the way his dick twitched in his trousers. No. Now is not the time. 
He stayed in the shadows and watched you work, diligently going from one room to another before stopping in the kitchen to make a drink. You pulled a book out of your bag and read for a while. Bruce found himself creeping closer, eager to see what you were reading. 
Then you looked up and it seemed like you were staring straight at him. He knew you couldn’t see him but he couldn’t stop the way his heart stuttered in his chest. Nor the way his lower half jolted. 
What was it about you that made his infamous control slip? He’d never had this issue, not even as a teenager.
Your eyes widened as you kept gazing in his direction and he slowly turned his head. The bat symbol drifted amongst the clouds. 
He held back a sigh as he shifted further into the darkness. 
Maybe he was due a visit back into the office, after all. 
Or maybe not. 
It had been a week since Bruce first saw you in his office, clutching a mop like your life depended on it. Sometimes, when he lay awake in his bed, he thought about how oblivious you were to his presence that night. And every night since.
He should really get you some self defence classes, perhaps send them as a gift from Wayne Enterprises. He hated thinking about what could’ve happened if he really was a burglar. He could only keep you so safe, you needed to be able to handle yourself. 
Then he felt a bit crazy. Here he was, talking about you like you were… part of his life. Although, he supposed at this point you were part of his life. He just wasn’t part of yours. Too many times he’d driven to the building just to never get out of his car.
He’d asked Fox about you at his last equipment meeting. He tried to act nonchalant about it, casually asking if there were any new staff on the top floor. 
“We have a new cleaner.” Fox said, relaying your name. “They’ve been here for about three weeks. Settling in very well.”
Bruce repeated your name, strangely satisfied by the way it rolled off his tongue. 
“May I inquire why you’ve asked about them?” Fox’s words caught Bruce off guard. “You’ve never been interested in the Wayne staff before.”
“Just keeping up to date with the comings and goings of my fathers legacy.” Bruce suddenly found the kevlar padding very interesting. 
“Better late than never, I suppose.” Fox hummed, running his fingers across the fabric. “This kevlar is half the weight of your current gear.”
“Is it still as durable?”
You didn’t come up in the conversation again but Fox filed the information away, eager to ask Alfred about it. 
“What does your partner think about you working so late?”
Fox’s question caught you completely off guard, causing you to almost spurt out your tea. He immediately grabbed the tissues off his desk, handing them to you.
“Forgive me, it was an inappropriate question.” 
“No, no, no. It’s fine.” You said, finally swallowing down your mouthful. “I, uh, don’t have a partner. So, I don’t think they mind.”
“I suppose that makes two of us.” 
Before you could respond, he tactfully changed the conversation. 
“They’re single, you know.” 
Bruce furrowed his eyebrows but didn’t look away from his newspaper. “Whose single, Alfred?”
His heart almost broke free from his chest when Alfred said your name. 
“How would you know that?” Bruce’s words were more rushed than he would’ve liked, the newspaper long forgotten on the table.
“Every old man has his secrets.”
“You spoke to Fox,” Bruce sighed. “They probably thought he was coming onto them.”
“Worried you have competition, Master Wayne?” 
Bruce couldn’t help but chuckle. 
“You know, I may not be the master of romance but I hear that the first step in any relationship is to talk to each other.” 
“Obviously,” Bruce muttered, picking his newspaper back up.
“What you’re doing right now has a name, Master Wayne.” 
“And what is that?”
“Stalking.”
Bruce couldn’t help but flinch at the word. He turned to defend himself but Alfred was already gone, leaving him a pot of tea. 
You were sitting in the kitchen, tea in one hand and your book in the other. You’d found yourself in the office a bit earlier than usual but didn’t mind. It was always good to have some time to wind down before you started your shift. 
“What are you reading?” 
You couldn’t help but inwardly sigh, putting your bookmark in. “Just a-” Your breath caught in your throat as you looked up. If Russell was attractive, this man was downright gorgeous. A face carved for a god with luscious hair combed behind his ear. 
He looked eerily familiar but you couldn’t quite place him. You could feel your cheeks heat up as you bought your gaze back down to the book.
“I’ve never heard of The Dry Heart before,” Bruce’s heart leapt from his chest as he took the seat across from you. “What’s it about?”
You sneaked a glance up at him but immediately looked back down when you made eye contact. “It’s about an unhappy marriage, I’m reading it for a book club.”
He hummed, his eyes searching your face. You were even more breath-catching up close. “You must be our new cleaner,” you liked the way he said your name far too much. “I’ve been meaning to catch up with you.”
“You have?” Who was this man? You would remember seeing such a gorgeous face among the office. 
“I try to meet all the new employees but I’ve been a bit slack lately, please forgive me.”
You slowly lifted your eyes to look at him and couldn’t help the way your lips lifted. 
“Consider it forgotten,” you said softly.
He opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by Fox. 
“Mr Wayne, how lovely to see you again.” Lucius came in and stood beside you. “I see you’ve met our latest employee.”
Your eyes shoot, Mr Wayne? Surely not. In your rushed state, you completely missed the way Fox smirked at Bruce, causing the younger man to stare daggers back at him.
“Of course, it’s important to know everyone in the office.” 
Fox hummed, turning back to you. “Please excuse us, I have a very important meeting to drag Mr Wayne into.” 
“Uh, yeah, sure.” You had a hard time even saying the words, your mind whirling. Wasn’t Bruce Wayne an arrogant asshole? This man was the furthest from that. He was so kind and funny. And good looking. Holy shit was he good looking.
No, you’re not doing that. Not to your boss. Especially not when your boss is a world famous womaniser. 
You can’t help the way your eyes follow him as he walks out or the way they trail down to his perfect ass. Entering the hallway, Fox rolls his eyes when he sees the massive smirk on Bruce’s face. 
“I was hoping I’d find you here.”
You can’t help but jump as Bruce walks into the kitchen. “Mr. Wayne, I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”
“Please,” he sits down at the table and smiles at you. “Call me Bruce.”
“Okay, Bruce.” 
Bruce savours the way his name rolls off your tongue and how your cheeks go bright red under his gaze. His eyes follow as your blush spreads down your neck and under your neckline. 
“I usually take the new employees out for lunch, your turn is well overdue.” He takes a moment before continuing. “I guess ours would be more like dinner.”
“I suppose so,” you smile at him, oblivious to his wandering gaze. “But you don’t have to do that, Bruce. It’s fine, honestly.”
“I insist. How about tonight?”
You brought a lousy microwave dinner for tonight but there’s no reason why it can’t wait for tomorrow. Plus, who doesn’t like a free dinner? Lost in thought, Bruce takes the opportunity to study the way you bite your lip and store it away for later. 
“Sure, tonight is good.”
You weren’t sure what to expect during dinner but it wasn’t this. Bent over, your hand clutching your side in an attempt to ease your stitch as you laugh hysterically. Bruce is laughing too, his smile so big it shows his perfectly pearly whites.
“No way, you’re lying.” You gasp between breaths.
“I wish,” Bruce looks away in faux-shame. “I wasn’t always the smoothest.”
“I find that hard to believe.” Your laugh settles into a smile. 
“Why’s that?” He sounds genuine when he asks, curious even.
“Well, look at you.” You immediately heat at the implication, quickly stuttering off an excuse. This is not a date. “Y-You’re The Bruce Wayne. It would’ve been a-all over the newspapers if you, uh, messed up.”
Bruce merely hums, his eyes dropping down to your lips as you bite away at them again. 
This is bad. You cannot be flirting with the boss, especially not your boss's boss. Sure, he might be into it now but he’s not known to stick around with the same person for long. You can not afford to lose this job if things go bad.
You’re saved by the server coming back to drop off the check. Bruce’s hand grasps yours as you go to take the check, sending a bolt of electricity down your arm. His eyes find your own, a small smile gracing his lips.
“I’ve got you.”
Fuck. 
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kinopio-writes · 7 months
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Request: A one-shot with Vox and a Fem!Reader who is an Overlord that deemed a less high position but kept being her chaotic neutral self nonetheless. She and the Vees were playing a game and she won in the worst way possible. (tried to remember all the things @matrixbearer2024 told me so, uh, sorry if this wasn’t what you meant)
A/N: I accidentally posted this completely unfinished and deleted it as soon as possible so I lost the request. Vox is one of the harder characters to write because most of the time he’s on screen, he’s shitting on Alastor. Hopefully he gets more developed in season 2. I used his controlled and controlling characteristics a lot here.
Um, this turned out neither platonic nor romantic. I was focused on establishing their dynamic here, so this might turn into a series. Enjoy! I liked how the story turned out to be (although the pacing might be rough).
Words: 1,569 (edited)
Warnings: Valentino (he’s not acting like how he does around Angel, mostly because Vel’s your friend and you’re not a worker in his studio)
———
Vox x Fem Overlord!Reader who had taken the backseat
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The doors to his office slid open, allowing the bright light from the other room to pour into his TV-adorned space. The light blocked him from seeing the other side of the screens, and the suit-clad demon sitting on his swivel chair jerked back from whatever he was paying close attention to, bringing him back to reality.
“Um, Sir?” A nasally voice piped up from the light.
His boss quietly groaned in irritation, not bothering to turn around to look at him. “What is it?”
“We have a problem.” Of course, there was. Ever since that old prick suddenly came back, things have been not going well for him. Well, it was mostly because he let that piece of shit get to him. “We’ve been receiving numerous complaints about our new voyeur scopes.”
Vox merely waved a dismissive hand, eyes glued to the screen in front of him. “That happens all the time. If the protests persist, get someone to start on a new draft.”
His assistant left right after, and as Vox heard the doors close, he let out a heavy sigh, deciding to change the setting of his screens to watch over his district.
“Let’s see what the fuss is all about, shall we?”
•••
You had smashed another one of the flying drones.
You’d been doing that for quite a while, settling that as your first order in business after letting someone take over your district for you, granting you more freedom. There wasn’t much thought in the decision. You had just grown tired of being a leader and gaining more power. You liked being laid-back, but it wasn’t as if you’d settle on the retirement (after)life. Now that would be just plain boring.
VoxTek Enterprises was a brand you were familiar with. Not as a customer, but as a friend to someone who was close to the man behind the title: Vox.
You didn’t have anything against the guy—Vox was a charming fellow when you first met him. When he approached you, you were happy to disclose any questions he had, although you noticed that his left eye started to swirl as you spoke. It went back to normal quickly, however, so you went back to your usual talking pace. He ended the conversation briefly after that, and you were approached by more overlords during that event. (heavily edited this paragraph)
Now, you were hanging out with two of the three Vees. Velvette immediately invited you to chat about your new position after she heard while Valentino was lying on the other couch beside yours, on his phone.
She pried for an answer as to why you’d done what you did. When you gave her the direct answer of simply getting tired of it, she changed the topic to new fashion trends. You agreed to be her temporary model for her newest drafts, and Val piped in if you wanted a photo shoot for a magazine for an entirely different cause. Vel swatted his head away, rejecting his offer for you.
When the chatter had slowed down to silence, you explored around the spacious room as the others scrolled through their phone. You managed to find a video game that was unsurprisingly made by VoxTek. It was quite an old product, but it looked interesting enough, so you called out to the other overlords in the room if they wanted to play. They agreed.
•••
Vox’s eye twitched, snarling as he watched you get all buddy-buddy with Valentino and Velvette. And playing his game, no less? The fucking disrespect!
Initially, Vox liked you the moment he laid his eyes on you. That was one of the reasons why he made conversation with you, even if he had non-amicable intentions. You also had been gaining more power at the time and the other stronger overlords noticed, including him. He speculated on your potential to grow more influential and wanted to be acquainted with you for future use. However, you were instantly on his watchlist when he realized he couldn’t hypnotize you.
During the conversation you two had, he managed to get you to tell him how you got into your position, which didn’t even need much prying. You didn’t like business and politics, you hated forethought, and you didn’t even know there was such a thing as a hierarchy in Hell—you thought everyone just did their thing and be their worst, which was just fucking stupid.
You were reckless, an oversharer, unprofessional, passive, and unpredictable. In other words, you were an uncontrollable freak who had too much power. He didn’t understand how you were still alive.
Vox felt threatened when you made friends with Velvette before she even joined the Vees. He knew he couldn’t convince her to stop being in contact with you, so every time you two hung out, he would watch you two closely from his monitors. So far, he managed to keep you as far away from him as possible.
Until now. You were literally in the same building he was in. You were closer to him than you’ve been in years.
Velvette’s voicemail echoed throughout his office. She wasn’t answering any of his calls.
He cursed out loud. What a pain. It seemed he had to deal with you himself.
•••
“Val! What the fuck are you doing in last place?”
You three were playing Mario Kart (Wii), or at least, the rip-off version of it. It was still pretty decent, though. You all decided that doing all thirty-two races would be a fun way to pass the time until the Vees had to do their separate things.
“How the fuck am I supposed to know? The buttons don’t do shit!”
“Use the rocket (Bullet Bill), shithead! Press the arrow key!”
“What the fuck is an arrow key—! Oh, there we go. I’m in second place! Ha! Eat shit, Princess Bitch!”
“Valentino! You blind ass, you’re blocking the screen!”
“I’m winning!”
“Taking my first place, you fucking won’t!”
You ignored their bickering and used two out of your three red shells to hit Rosalina and Toadette, a shit-eating grin on your face as you won first place.
A series of shouts and yells followed right after.
“Wait, what the fuck!”
“Who did that!”
“I did.” The two Vees turned their heads from the screen to see you comfortably lying upside down on the couch, legs hanging on the headrest.
Velvette’s shoulders relaxed. Valentino, on the other hand, flipped…the table. The TV was disconnected from its wires.
“What the—Valentino!” Velvette watched him stomp his way out of the room. “Valentino, where are you going? You better not be thinking about—…”
Velvette’s words fell silent as they both got farther from the room.
You placed the remote on the couch and finally sat upright, examining the space around you as chaos erupted from downstairs. It didn’t seem like they were coming back soon.
Hmm. Now you had the room all to yourself.
•••
You were busy rearranging the snacks and mixing their places into different cupboards when the double doors burst off their hinges and harshly hit the wall. You snapped your head to the entrance to catch a glimpse of a TV head before the doors closed back on themselves.
You snorted, going back to messing with Valentino’s stuff.
A moment of silence passed, and you stopped snooping around to check if Vox was still there, leaning down as you opened one of the two doors slightly. You saw his hands form into fists in front of you, and you immediately stood back to your height with a grin.
“The man himself!” You took a step away and opened both doors entirely, lifting your arms as a gesture of welcome even though he owned the place, and that irked him. “You know, Val and Vel and I played a game. You should’ve joined—”
“I know.”
“Oh, then the two are downstairs causing chaos.” You skipped over to the couch and sat on the headrest, falling back on the seat as you kicked your legs. “Usually that would be my thing, but—”
“I know.”
“And sorry for breaking those drones of yours. It was just—” you curled in yourself as you grabbed at your hands, “—in front of me, y’know—?”
“I know.”
“Wow, you know a lot.” He didn’t know if you meant that sarcastically or not. And that alone pissed him off further. “I’m assuming you also know that I stopped being an overlord?” You heard static in his direction.
“You…stopped being an overlord? No one just…stops being one.”
“Ooh, worded that wrong, huh?” You lifted your upper half to see the TV head still standing in the same spot. “I’m still technically one, I suppose, but I’m more, like, second in command? I’m just letting someone take over for me. The overlord life was too restricting, y’know?”
No, he didn’t know.
“Anyway, good talk.” You raised your legs and pushed them forward to stand up, making your way over to him. “I think I had an appointment with the guy who’s taking over. Thank Vel and Val for letting me hang out here. Actually, maybe go apologize to Val for me; I rearranged his cupboards.”
You patted his shoulder as you walked past. “See you soon, Vox!”
The man in question had his mouth slightly parted, his eyes still glued inside the room.
Shit. He was going to see you a lot often now, wasn’t he?
Fuck his life.
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vanvelding · 11 months
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I'm going to say one of the nicest things I can about a show about Star Trek: Lower Decks
They played us like a string quartet.
(Spoilers for 4x09: "The Inner Fight")
Lower Decks was sold a Star Trek/Rick & Morty mashup from the start. The first scene is a drunken Mariner literally harming her sidekick, Boimler. It practically screamed, "Mariner & Boimler a hundred tours! Double-u, double-u, double-u dot Mariner and boimler dot com!"
But of course, it also had Star Trek references. One of the earliest is "Who would win in a fight? Khan or Roga Danar?" Why would anyone else in The Federation know or care who Roga Danar is? And there's no imagination on display for the oldest referential paradigm, "Who would win in a fight?" Lazy. Bullshit.
Of course before the end of season one, Lower Decks showed us it was more than that. Boimler was gaining the kind of experience he needed. The story hinted very strongly that Mariner had been in Starfleet a LONG time. She wasn't a omnicompotent mary sue; she was a Commander with her own philosophy/trauma that compelled her to remain an Ensign.
It was a good show and it stood on its own. The references were used well to create interesting stories ("Twovix"), as part of the setting ("Hear All, Trust Nothing"), or just as a gag here and there ("Kayshon, His Eyes Open" and, like a dozen others). The references to the setting become the background radiation, remarkable in how deep a cut they really are (Vendorians?). I've described it to many people as "Star Trek, but everyone has watched Star Trek."
What it wasn't, was related to its namesake. "Lower Decks" was a surprisingly heavy episode about the younger members of the Enterprise crew and their perspective on the missions of galactic import that the viewer usually enjoys an omnisicent view of.
Lower Decks mentions our main cast don't have that omniscient view, but Mariner is a stone-cold badass, Rutherford was part of a secret effort to develop artificial intelligence, Tendi is the Mistress of the Winter Constellations, and Boimler--actually Biomler is no more exceptional than any other Starfleet officer.
So when we get our main cast and the senior officers into a room and they mention Nick Locarno, our thought is, "LOL, another reference. This one from TNG. Not particularly deep. LOL, Boimler is a Beverly Crusher fanboy. I guess it makes sense, they have the character model from the episode with Tom Paris. Clearly, Robert Duncan McNeil is happy to do some voice work. We'll probably make a reference to how much he looks like Tom Paris.
"lol"
Look, if you figured it out then pat yourself on the back. Me? I filed away another reference. I didn't realize that Nick Locarno was connected to the episode of TNG that was this entire series' namesake. The characters even say, "Who?" which is one of the first times they don't get a Star Trek reference. Because Nick Locarno isn't a part of the Star Trek universe they view with an enthusiastic fandomness; it's part of their dramatic history, whether they know it or not.
"ha-ha, I guess Nick Locarno is too deep a cut for the show that called back to Morgan fucking Bateson."
But whatever, A-plot/B-plot. Gags about Starfleet habitually rolling up to seedy establishments in uniforms while looking for information, which is subverted by Captain Freeman being fucking genre savvy (also, wasn't she going to be promoted before getting arrested at the end of season two? I guess getting framed for a crime was deemed to be not very 'admiral-able'). Mariner ends up in a cave with a Klingon taking shelter from a crystal rain.
The pieces are there. Mariner was an ensign during The Dominion War. Two to three years before The Dominion War, Wesley Crusher left Starfleet, our Nick Locarno expy Tom Paris was recruited to Voyager, and Sito Jaxa was an ensign.
And Nick Locarno is in play.
We could have figured it out! We're in the narrative and emotional third act of this series (Tendi gave us the "We'll always be friends" speech last week)! Everyone regular just sat in a room trying to figure out how to help Mariner; we were one fruit salad analogy away from an intervention with Dr. Migleemoo!
Mariner escapes from Cardassian interrogation chambers for fun!
But Locarno is just another TNG reference, like Beverly Crusher. Background radiation. The season's story arc is something original to Lower Decks, which it's proven it's unafraid to do at this point. The series has no relation to "Lower Decks"
And then they fucking hit us with it; Beckett Mariner knew Sito Jaxa. They were friends. Then Jaxa died.
That's Mariner's trauma (that and The Dominion War).
And I didn't see it because I came to see Lower Decks as a series that stood on its own merits as a show while calling back to earlier Treks in a light, non-committal way. And I credit that solely to the writing of the show which leveraged both of those qualities to make an entertaining show that I like before, but now respect.
Just amazing stuff.
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throuple-tournament · 8 months
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Description provided by @leverage-ot3.
leverage ot3 description: three good robinhood-esque criminals that fuck over corporations and give back to the people that were hurt by them. ultra competent. hardison is a geeky hacker, eliot is a grumpy hitter, and parker is the best thief in the world (also canon autistic). eliot ended the og series saying that he would protect the other two till his dying day (directly after their parent figures got engaged. marriage proposal who?)
Description provided by @moirailsupport.
James T. Kirk is the captain of the USS Enterprise. A good, moral man. His first officer is the half-Vulcans Spock. In spite of Spock’s dismissal of all things emotional, he and Captain Kirk develop a intense fondness for each other that is said to be the basis for modern fandom as we know it. Leonard “Bones” McCoy is the ships chief medical officer, and a very close friend of Kirks, with the two often enjoying a bottle of whiskey together. He and Spock, on the other hand, do not get along well at all. They do hold respect for each other, and when pressed will show it. Source: I have read way to much Star Trek apocrypha for someone who’s never seen it.
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writingsfromstarfleet · 11 months
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[AOS] Spock - The Other Kirk
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♫ - Spring Day - BTS
A/N: Hello! I think I've written something similar before, honestly I don't remember, but if anyone is still reading these or is still here, enjoy! Hugs! x
for @lovinghufflepuffgirl <3
fem! pronouns (she/her) :)
Growing up, Iowa was life in the fast lane, and things were always constantly moving. The Kirk's were a well-known family, whether it was for your father, Lieutenant George Kirk, and his work in Starfleet, or it was your brother, Jim Kirk, and his truanting and general misbehaviour. America was entirely different to space, and you quickly found that out on your first assignment in Starfleet. 
Life on the Enterprise was definitely different to normal life. There were people of different races, species, genders; you name it, it was here. All beings from outer space worked together towards one common goal and it was a close community aboard the ship. You yourself, were human. From Riverside, Iowa on Earth, you were the sister of the Captain, and that didn't really make life too simple. 
Despite the difference, your brother stuck up for you no matter what, whether it was earth or the academy, it didn't matter. You were his pride and joy, and he would protect you with his life. 
By nature, your brother Jim was loud, obnoxious and confident. There never really was anything he wouldn't do, the man had confidence built from steel. You guessed that's what came from being the Captain. You were the polar opposite of him. Quiet as a whole, you kept your books and studies to yourself, always picking a small, closed off corner of the mess hall to sit in. Most people talked to you in relation to your brother, never really anything else. But, you weren't too offended. 
There was always someone a little different, though; Spock.
Your brothers first officer, Spock was always by his side, or on the bridge as acting captain. But, on the semi-rare occasion he wasn't, Spock tended to join you in the corner without much being said between you. In a way, you quite enjoyed it. It was a mutual understanding; you knew he didn't always favour talking, and so a simple smile and a nod of acknowledgement before you both delved back to your datapads and meals, was enough.
This pattern developed over time, and you found yourself sat with him more and more. Conversations started to naturally come between you, and before long, you were learning more and more about him, as he was you. One day, was different, it was still the same old routine, but the conversation was different.
"Good evening, Y/N," Spock started, placing his pad and drink down on the table. "How are you doing?"
"Hi Spock, I'm doing well, thank you, I'm a little stressed out over this, but other than that, it's good." Spock saw your face, brows furrowed but still trying to maintain your usual polite smile. "How are you?"
"I am well, thank you. Perhaps I can help you with that." 
Spock spun his pad round and sat down next to you for the first time. Usually, he was less personal and more formal, tending to always sit across from you. But this time, Spock chose the seat next to you instead. You suddenly felt nervous, though you had no real reason to be. Spock took your pad from you, fingers brushing delicately across your own for a second. Though it was only that second, the feeling lingered for a while. Spock stared at you for a moment, and quickly diverted his eyes down. If you hadn't known any better, you'd say his cheeks went a little red. 
"What is it you need help with?" he asked, voice low.
"I just don't understand any of it, I'm trying my best but I can't make sense of what feels like a thousand pages of writing." 
Spock sat with you for nearly two hours, explaining and writing and helping you where he could. It felt like he had been there all night, and as he spoke and talked you through everything paragraph by paragraph, eventually, it started to sink in and you began to understand. Even being Vulcan, Spock could not hide the pride on his face and a small smile after you explained the study back to him. 
"Well done, Y/N, I am impressed." His voice was different, and it sounded happy. His tone and smile told you that.
"You're smiling, you must be proud," you laughed out, and quickly got nervous again. "I, uh, didn't mean it like that if I offended you or-"
"Do not worry, I am proud. You have managed to learn something you did not know. That is an achievement and you should be proud too."
"I couldn't have done it without you, thank you," you replied, not really too sure where to look. You became sheepish, something you had not been much around Spock for quite some time. Whether it was the closeness, or the care from him, you weren't sure. 
"It has been an enjoyable two hours, I would like to do this again sometime," Spock seemed a little cautious, taking a breath before continuing. "Perhaps, without the studying."
He took you aback a little, before it fully clicked he was asking you on a date. 
"I would quite like that, Spock."
The day came to a close as he walked you back to your room before bidding you a goodnight. 
The morning came and you were up bright and early for your shift. As you finished getting dressed and tied your hair up, your comms system rang out.
"Lieutenant Y/N to the Captain's ready room."
With confusion and slight concern, you made your way to Jim's room with haste, not wanting to upset him in case he was in a bad mood or you had done something wrong. Reaching the room, you didn't even have to knock before the door swung open. You stepped inside, and  your brother sat with a face like thunder. 
"Captain? Or Jim today?" you asked, in the same joking manner as usual. 
"Spock?" he replied. 
"Weird choice of name, but who am I to judge?" you replied, shrugging. 
"Not funny."
"Never claimed to be, you've always been the clown. What's up with you?"
Jim raised an eyebrow, very clearly unimpressed.
"When were you going to tell me you were dating my first officer?"
You couldn't help but laugh. "What? I'm not dating Spock, relax. We just eat together and we're going on a date later this week, but I would love to know who told you that, because they found out before I did and that's one hell of a talent."
"Y/N, seriously. Have you thought about this?" You furrowed your brow, nodding him to elaborate. "This is Spock, he's a Vulcan, which means emotions are not his specialist subject."
"You'd be surprised, Jim. Why do you care so much anyway? He's your XO, you trust him don't you? He wouldn't hurt me, if that's what you're worried about. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't try this out and I won't go this weekend."
Jim stared at you, trying to summon any semblance of an answer for that, but realised he didn't actually have a legitimate reason to stop you. He did trust Spock, and he would trust Spock to keep you safe like he does, and to care for you. There was nothing really he could do to stop this, nor was there any reason he could see.
Sighing, he shook his head. "You're right. I just worry for you, you know? You're all I got, and-"
You cut him off with a hug. His grip tightened and you buried yourself into his shoulder. Pulling back, you smiled at him. 
"Don't worry, I love you too. I won't get myself killed, but if I do, he's all yours."
Jim laughed, and you joined in, grabbing your drink and heading towards the door. 
"Plus, it was Spock or Bones, so take your pick where you want."
"Y/N!"
With that, you closed the door over a little, laughing to yourself. From around the corner, you saw Spock, who raised his brow.
"Spock and Bones? What about us?"
You shrugged. "Nothing important, but if you go in there I'm sure you'll find out."
Spock cocked his head in curiosity, and you smiled.
"You look adorable like that, by the way." You leaned in and kissed his cheek, and swore you saw that blush red on his cheeks. "See you later."
As you walked away, Spock stood for a second, and touched his cheek where you left that kiss, and very faintly from behind the door came a voice that snapped him out of it.
"What the hell!"
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anewstartrekfan · 8 months
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Reading an old Star Trek book and to my surprise Jim Kirk has always had Daddy issues
So the only Star Trek book I’ve read was the one explaining how the tribbles episode was made and the aftermath, so trying to read Enterprise (1986) with some basic knowledge of trek post 2009 is fascinating. Cuz you see where the breadcrumbs of some of the characterization and even backstory come from.
In chapter 2, Sam Kirk and Kirk’s mom show up to Kirk’s ceremony where he takes command of the enterprise. They talk about George Kirk Sr. being in Starfleet, (he’s dead here too) something that I don’t think was in any of the episodes or movies. And how he was always distant and away. And they’re clearly going for some parallels/dramatic irony with the Wrath of Khan when it comes to Kirk not believing he could’ve developed a relationship with his father as an adult. And it plays into the tragic aspect I love about Kirk.
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Upon reflection he’s happy that Carol rejected him (he proposed to her in chapter 1) because he doesn’t want to leave anyone behind while on the job, only returning for sparse visits the way his father did. But at the same time, Jim craves companionship. And he can’t get it in his current job because as captain, it is not ethical for him to date anyone else on the Enterprise.
Anyway the long and short is if we take this book into account, Kirk has always had daddy issues. It’s just in TOS EU it was abandonment issues whereas in 2009 it was dad sacrificed himself so high expectations issues.
The little details like the mom’s name getting carried over into the aos movies are a good touch, but then seeing George Kirk being a Starfleet officer actually get incorporated into the 2009 movie as an important plot point, and then also using his absence in Kirk’s life but just in a different way as part of Kirk’s backstory is so cool to me.
A difference though is unlike fanfic tropes, Winona is actually a good mom and wants Jim to succeed in his career where his father failed in his Starfleet career. Unfortunately though Jim appears to be falling into the same pitfalls. As in lack of communication and unwillingness to play workplace politics.
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That last burn from Winona tho… like damn girl I felt that.
Another thing I want to backtrack to, Sam Kirk. Sam being the alleged chosen child, the one that was supposed to follow in George Kirk’s footsteps but didn’t, and then Jim strolled in and did even more than what Sam was supposed to do, and Sam and George never reconciled. Like dudes this book is almost 40 years old and this stuff was in strange new worlds last year. Tho xenobiology appears to have morphed into xenoanthropology (tho according to the fan wiki he’s still a biologist so idk what the deal is)
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For the record Sam’s characterization isn’t remotely the same here. Likely the choice to keep him out of Starfleet all together removed any sort of resentment of Jim potential like he has in SNW. There’s still tension though, as Sam tries to force Jim to confront why he’s reacting like this to his first mission for the enterprise being an escort job for a flying horse.
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Shifting gears back to Jim needing to learn how to play workplace politics. The assumed reason for Pike leaving the enterprise. While SNW is doing the whole, Pike knows he won’t fly the enterprise forever and about the disfigurement and is cool with it, I find if fascinating that he’s more, sad about it here and that he got promoted out of the way for pushing too many buttons. It would be a sad ending but I wonder if SNW would incorporate that into its eventual ending. Hell I wonder if that’s what happened to Kirk between TOS and TMP.
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Anyway big picture is this book is a fascinating time capsule and it’s fun seeing just how much has stuck around over the years both in fandom and in the franchise itself. Whether or not that’s the book’s doing is questionable but still. Fun to think about.
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