#i hope this was an adequate and satisfactory answer!

[leonstamatis]

I read your swordcrossed lesbians fic without reading the book at all so I have to ask: tell me more about the lesbians!

oh, you are so brave jbnkjbngkjn. thank you for taking the time to read it and to reach out -- that's so incredibly kind of you! i'm happy to talk about the girls, but i AM gonna put it under a cut so as not to spoil anyone who may want to read the book but hasn't gotten around to it yet.

so uh. swordcrossed is a fantasy romance novel set in a port-side city called glassport. it's vaguely historical, there are other towns and cities and politics and such at play, but none of that matters. the main thrust of the book is that mattinesh jay, the heir to a wool and textiles house, is engaged to sofia cooper, the youngest child of an up and coming house that works in wines and liquors.

matti needs to marry sofia because her family has money that can save his from collapsing entirely. sofia needs to marry matti because his family name carries respect and historical value, as his house is much more established than hers.

the book itself is about mattinesh (matti) and luca piere and their time together as matti attempts to 1) save his family from financial ruin 2) marry himself off 3) actually ruin his own wedding instead. it's a great time! i thoroughly enjoyed it! that being said, i think sofia cooper, as the other side to matti's coin, is INCREDIBLY compelling and i wanted to see SO much more of her than we got to. hence, the fic.

(side note: the jay family, as a house devoted to wool and textiles, follows the rites and rituals of the goddess huna. she oversees such things. the cooper family, working in alcohol, worships maha, the god of wine and agriculture. that's not super important beyond fun worldbuilding, but if you're wondering why those names pop up in the fic, that's why!)

sofia is rumored to be in love with another man, adrean vane. he's a songwriter, and he wrote a song about her that went the ye-olden equivalent of viral called "wildflower under the glass," so everyone -- matti and his family included -- is pretty sure she loves and actually wants to marry adrean, and this whole marriage is against her wishes. (it is not. she fucking hates adrean. he's a tool.)

sofia's story, as far as i've been able to deduce from the book, is: she knew she had to marry someone for her family's sake. she had this guy hanging around who was harassing and, essentially, all but stalking her, and he managed to convince the entire town that they were secretly in love this entire time.

she never, at any point, had the ability to control either her narrative or her future. any opportunity to do so -- whether through falling in love with someone else, pursuing a career that interested her, or literally just telling a guy to fuck off -- was cut off at the pass by needing to remain desirable marriage material. she could do that, and she did it, and it wasn't great for her but she's very stubborn and determined. as long as matti knows where she stands, and as long as she knows where he stands, the two of them can make this damn thing work.

(and then matti goes and falls in love with someone else, and starts sleeping with him while sofia is planning their goddamn wedding, which. man. that one sucks, matti, i have to say. you could've handled the whole thing better.)

anyway. mayanesh is matti's younger sister. she's pretty commonly referred to as the "rose oil" in any situation, because she's great at smoothing ruffled feathers and making people feel comfortable and welcome. matti loves her! they're two years apart, they look very similar, and maya is one of the only people matti actually confides in about anything he's thinking or feeling. which means she is one of the first people to know both that he is not happy about the impending marriage AND that he's falling for someone else.

as the person who is universally recognized as The One Who Makes Everyone Happy, she sees that her brother isn't going to put his whole heart into marrying this beautiful girl. so she goes about helping sofia to plan the wedding instead. it's taking something off matti's very full plate, it's making sofia feel supported and welcomed to the family, win-win!

it is very clear from quite early on that it's not... completely winning, though, because no matter how it shakes out, maya loses. if the wedding is called off, her family enters financial ruin; if it goes ahead, the woman she loves marries someone else. her brother, no less, so they'll be living under the same roof with no way to actually develop the relationship the way she wants. poor girl.

there's another layer here, too, which is that maya quickly becomes a confidant for sofia, as well. so she not only knows that sofia isn't entirely happy with this marriage, she knows that sofia has never had the chance to pick the things that would make her happy. whatever happens to sofia, it's always something she is tied up in, rather than something she wants. so obviously maya isn't going to run up to her and say, "well, i have feelings for you too, so there!" because sofia wouldn't want another person forcing her into the role of the love interest.

except that sofia already knows that she loves maya, and that she can't marry maya, and is so caught up in all the other shit that she has very little idea that maya feels the same way. i don't blame her; she has an obsessive creep following her around AND an unfaithful fiance. one crisis at a time, ykwim?

you might be asking, what does maya get out of this? great q. the book doesn't tell us that much. sofia is beautiful, sure, and sofia is from a wealthy family, and she is smart and she is capable. great. but why does she fit so well with maya?

this is all conjecture. but. i personally think it would be pretty difficult to be the one who is not the heir to the house, whose opinion isn't often consulted, and whose job is primarily to "make everyone happy." that's a ROUGH lot in life. and one of the things we get to see from sofia is that she listens. she asks questions and she learns.

she does pick up the hand signals from maya, and she appreciates maya's skills in planning, attitude management and design. she appreciates maya's knowledge, her creativity, her kindness. after her entire life spent being the one who exists to make other people feel good about themselves, it's probably pretty damn nice to have someone look at you and admire things no one else has even seen before.

anyway. the fic is canon compliant, in so much as it can be. when the wedding comes around, adrean vane challenges for sofia's hand and loses. then, at luca's urging, maya challenges for sofia's hand and. wins!

after some quick clarification, it is confirmed that maya isn't just challenging the marriage to keep it from going forward. she does, in fact, want to take her brother's place. sofia is elated about this, her parents approve, jay house still welcomes her and matti is free to be with someone he actually loves -- and so is sofia! thank fucking god, am i right.

i definitely had to flesh out a lot of sofia's relationships with her own family members, and i had to figure out her dynamic in the day-to-day with maya a little bit more. but the general broad strokes, and the idea behind them falling in love, for me, is that sofia finally found someone who respected her boundaries AND loved her enough to make her happy, no matter what that looked like. and maya found someone who saw her and listened to her and appreciated her, and would give back anything she gave in equal measure. and that's pretty cool.

tl;dr goddamn i loved the girls. they compel me.

[glacierruler]

Jenga Chapter 11

Ao3 Masterpost | Prev Chapter | Next Chapter

This fic is rated Mature

All content warnings can be found in the masterpost

It was almost time for finals and Patton was dying. All this studying was messing with his brain, and he still needed to take up dog walking for some extra cash. Not to mention all the magic stuff he’s been dealing with. It wouldn’t be unreasonable to say that he’s been going through a lot lately. Still, he had his brother, and he had new friends, and that’s really all that mattered, right? Why did it feel like Patton should be doing something, that he wasn’t doing enough? Why was it that everything, while moving so quickly, felt so stagnant at the same time?

Maybe he should focus more on his studies, but it was hard. His brain just wasn’t cooperating with him. It kept wandering, to whatever else he thought was more interesting in the moment. Honestly, at this point, he wasn’t sure if it was worth it to graduate. Maybe it was, but if he was just going to be a dog walker, he didn’t need to have a high school degree. It would be easier than answering the questions on this sheet of paper. Easier than finishing this study sheet that was due this afternoon.

“Patton are you alright?” Mrs. Hanson asked, “you seem to be a bit distracted today.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Guess I’m just really stressed about finals.”

“You always have been a good student Patton, why don’t you turn that in tomorrow morning instead.”

“Are you sure Mrs. Hanson? I wouldn’t want to…”

“Nonsense! Throughout this semester you have been one of the students who has tried their hardest even when the subject matter has been challenging. I want you to do your best on the finals, you can get the packet in to me tomorrow.”

“Thank you Mrs. Hanson.”

The rest of the day was about as frustrating as that first class, just without the extensions that Mrs. Hanson had given him. He really should be focusing on finals right now. Something to keep him sane. But it was hard. Still, it was important he did his best on these, even if he didn’t see a point, because, at the very least, he wouldn’t get concerned parents. If they cared; well they would, he knew they would. They just weren’t really there, and it was a blessing and a curse. Sure, Patton was still upset and angry that they had used his disability against him, but he still wanted parents; he still loved them. And thoughts like this were exactly why he was struggling this finals season, if he would just focus on the issue at hand he would be fine, but he couldn’t seem to corral his thoughts.

“Ah, Patton, is everything adequate?” Came Logan’s familiar voice.

“I’m fine, just stressed about finals. Who isn’t?”

“That is something perfectly reasonable to be stressed about. Finals are a significant portion of our grade, and considering we are both seniors they are even more paramount. If you would wish we could study for them at my place of residence.”

“Are you sure?” Patton was hopeful that maybe Logan knew of different ways to help him study, although part of him felt like it wouldn’t help at all; leaving him feeling guilty and seemingly more of a failure.

“I am positive that this would be a wonderful course of action. Do you think it would be productive for you to invite the others as well?”

Oh, Logan wanted to hang out with everyone else too. Of course he did, he was friends with them too after all, so Patton hesitantly nodded. Unfortunately for him, Logan didn’t seem to buy it; probably suspecting it to be an act of some kind.

“Patton, if I may postulate, it is quite alright if you do not wish for the others to be there. I had only suggested it because I was unsure if you would retain information better with or without more associates. It is important to me that those I assist are able to collect knowledge to the best of their ability. You are allowed to say that my ideas are less than satisfactory in aiding your learning.”

“Oh, thank you Logan, but it’s really not that big of a deal.”

“Patton, it is not an issue to exclude the others for this. In fact I personally would prefer it this time around.”

“You would?”

“Affirmative, do not misinterpret my words, I do enjoy spending time with them. However, attempting to help and tutor all of them is a challenge I would not enjoy participating in. They can all be a bit obstinate when it comes to their studies.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” Patton sighed. At least if he messed up it would only be in front of Logan. “Yeah, lets have it be just us for now.”

“Agreed. Now, do you know where I reside or do you need me to relay to you my address?”

“I’ve got a better idea. What if I walked home with you? Virgil would understand, and I think he said something about going to the twins place too, so he could head straight there instead of going home first if he wanted.”

Logan seemed to think on it for a moment, before agreeing.

**********

Patton was excited, he was hopefully going to figure out how to focus on his finals. And probably learn a whole host of other things as well, all things considered. Maybe afterwards he could figure out dog walking logistics with Logan too, if he was okay with it, Patton didn’t want to overextend his stay. Still every little thing helped and he wanted to be prepared for when the tests actually started.

“Patton, I would like to welcome you to my dwelling.”

It was a decent sized house, bigger than Patton’s, but nothing that seemed overly expensive, like Janus’s. Logan gave him a basic tour, showing him everything he would probably need to know since he was staying for a while to study for finals. After a few minutes, he was finally led to Logan’s room, and they sat down, preparing to study.

“So, how exactly does this work? Like, what exactly are you going to do to tutor me?”

“Well, first you will state a subject you need help with. If I may suggest something, starting with the subject that you are having the most trouble with is strongly recommended.”

“Okay, uh, I’m not sure what I struggle with the most.”

“What subject do you despise the most?”

“Probably debate. I’ve managed to skate by for the most part… but it’s not my strong suit.”

“Of course not,” Logan’s immediate response put Patton down a bit. Was it that obvious he was bad at arguing his point? “Debate is a culmination of words, of trying to get the opponent to see your point. While it is a strong tool to use in a verbal disagreement, it is not a suit you can wear. Or at least it is not meant to be, I am sure Roman would be able to come up with some fanciful design for a suit made out of debate flashcards or something of the like.”

“Oh, it was a metaphor.”

“Ah. Apologies.”

“No, you’re fine.”

Logan seemed to think for a minute, staring straight ahead. Patton wondered if he had said something wrong already, or if maybe it was going to be too difficult to teach him.

“I suppose if I am to tutor you in debate tactics that it will be something we do over time. Firstly, do you know how to research arguments for your side of the debate?”

“Not really. I was just kind of hoping that my side would be right.”

“Ah. That is, fundamentally, not how debate works. In debate, you are attempting to get an opponent to acquiesce to your views on the subject matter. Which requires ample research and time to do so. When is your debate final?”

“Next Friday…”

“That is more time than I expected, but less than ideal if we are starting with no research done. What is your topic?”

“I don’t know? She mentioned it a few weeks ago, I have it written down somewhere!”

“Then we should begin by searching for where you wrote down your topic,” Logan was clearly annoyed at this point. “Would you mind if I assisted by looking through some of your notebooks? It has the probability of being helpful in completing this task most efficiently.”

“Oh, uh, sure. Have at it!”

Going through the notebooks was interesting, especially when the first thing Logan did was grab Patton’s backpack and dump it on the floor. Watching as he grabbed one frantically, Patton followed suit but at a much calmer pace.

They sat there for about fifteen minutes, reading through the different journals until Patton couldn’t take the silence anymore.

“So, what do you think about dog walking?”

“What?” Logan’s tone was incredulous, and full of some sort of anger or frustration. “Why are you asking this now, is it pertinent to studying?”

“Yes- well no… well sort of? I don’t know. I was just, I’ve been thinking of dropping out and dog walking. Obviously it’s a bit late to drop out now. But you know, it’s something to do.”

Logan seemed to breathe deeply before responding. “Patton, I invited you to my house to study, not ponder over whether dog walking is a viable career path or not.”

“You’re right, I’ll shut up. Let’s keep looking for the debate topic.”

Logan nodded stiffly at that, and Patton wished he’d never opened his mouth.

Picking up another journal, Patton watched as the pages got blurrier and blurrier. Until something wet hit them.

…

Was he…

“Patton are you crying?”

“I don’t mean to be! I’m sorry!”

Logan sighed a bit, staring up at the ceiling. Seeming to ponder something, probably wondering if he should have never offered to tutor Patton in the first place. After a minute or two he looked back to Patton.

“I suppose I should have been more… careful in how I addressed what you had to say. While you did come here to study, it is apparent that this dog walking venture is taking up a good portion of your conscious memory. Meaning it is important to you.” Logan sighed, humming to himself a bit before saying this next part. “I have come up with a compromise of sorts. If we can study for the first hour of you being here, then we can converse about starting up a dog walking business for the last hour of your visit.”

“Yeah, that would probably be a good idea.” Patton wiped the tears streaming down his face, “sorry.”

“It is of no consequence. I should probably apologize too. After all, it is my less than sensitive phrasing that caused this whole mess.”

“Oh, it’s fine. I shouldn’t have started crying over what you said. I don’t even think I was crying over that.”

“You have been stressed these past few weeks, and clearly this dog walking endeavor is important to you. It is understandable that your emotions would get the best of you. Now, we have a debate topic we must find, so you do not fail that elective.”

“Yeah… it would be horrible if I didn’t graduate because I failed this one class.”

“Precisely why we are studying. Oh, I believe I’ve found it. Are you debating the ethics of colonizing other planets?”

“Oh yes, I think that’s it!”

“Wonderful, the next step is to look into the topic. What knowledge have you already obtained about it?”

“Well, hm… if I’m being honest I don’t know a whole lot about anything to do with other planets.”

With that the both of them launched into discussions of how to research for a topic as well as eventually discussing the other school subjects. It was a bit frighteningly easy for Patton to follow along with what Logan was saying, there were a few hiccups; as Logan kept using words Patton didn’t know, but overall he had been able to keep up with what Logan was saying. It was nice, being able to focus on his studies. Pretending he was at least a somewhat normal student.

After about an hour, Patton was a bit exhausted from studying for so long. He had so many notes on debate, math, and english; Logan had said they’d go through history tomorrow. Sighing, Patton yawned and stretched a bit.

“Would it be agreeable if I were to acquire some form of sustenance for the both of us before we are to discuss this dog walking venture of yours?”

“Yeah, snacks sound good right now, what do you have?”

“Ah. I was thinking we could have a meal, considering it is almost dinner time.”

“Sure! What are we having?”

“I was thinking, if you are amenable to it, that I could make shrimp alfredo. If you are not a fan, however, I will resolve to create something else.”

“Oh, I haven’t had shrimp in a while. I’d be willing to try it!”

Patton noticed as Logan’s eyes lit up, ever so slightly, at the agreement to try the food.

“That is acceptable, if you wish you may remain here as  I start to cook the dish.”

“Alright!”

As Logan left the room, Patton lied down on the bed in there staring up at the ceiling. After a few minutes, everything seemed to drown out as he let his eyes rest a bit. It had been a rather long day, after all. In what felt like seconds, but was probably half an hour or so, Patton was being gently shaken awake.

“Apologies if I have startled you. Your food is on the desk over there.”

“Thank you,” Patton yawned, stretching and starting to get up to eat as Logan pulled notebooks out of his bag.

“If earlier discussions are true, you are interested in starting a dog walking business are you not?”

“Yeah,” Patton mumbled through a mouthful of food before swallowing to give a more in depth response. “I just think it would be a good way to earn money, and have some funds stored away.”

“That is understandable. Have you considered, perhaps, inviting the others to join in on this venture? We can work on prices and how best to even the amount everyone is earning at a later date.”

“Oh, alright. And no I hadn’t thought of that. Um… would the others even be interested?”

“Having some source of income, even if it is minimal due to the nature of the business, would be beneficial for everyone. As it would allow us funding for any projects of sorts.”

“Oh okay. That makes sense. I know you said we could talk about pricing and how much everyone gets at a later date. But maybe, if everyone agrees, we could have at least three dog walkers? It would help us get more funds for things.”

“That would be sufficient and efficient. Telling the others should be made a priority, as their help would be beneficial. Most likely, we will be able to figure out funds and payment another time.”

“Yeah, we should tell the others first if we’re wanting their help! Thank you Logan!”

[greatearth]

the knock at her door beckons, and unto her answer, karna, dressed in a slick black suit, proffers a modest arrangement of a few red roses, complimented by various blush pink flowers and greenery to offset the colour. in the other hand, he cradles a small bag of hand-made chocolates, tied with a red ribbon. they are slightly misshapen, though in lieu of that, they are decorated neatly. doubt bleeds into his expression, yet he looks upon her fondly.

❝  ... i confess, i... am not certain how they will taste.  ❞ he did not dislike their flavour when he had sampled one earlier to at the very least make sure they had cooked adequately, however... perhaps she will find they are too sweet? he knows not, ❝  i hope they are satisfactory.  ❞

Of course, Karna outdid himself this time as well with his presentation. Despite his earlier doubts about whether or not he'd been properly courting her as a lover should, it's clear that great thought went into his gift for her. She can't help but feel moved by his thoughtfulness toward her but... "Was it not...my turn to give a gift to you, today?" she jests, of course. For once, she has found her confidence rather quickly, probably helped along by Karna's doubt in his own gift being worthy.

Though his chocolates are misshapen, Ereshkigal finds no fault in their appearance or taste. Why would she? When he'd gone through so much trouble for her in the first place. The love gone into making them is apparent. "You did well, my beloved," she says, smiling all the while enjoying them before she remembers that she has also prepared a gift for him as well.

After disappearing from the doorway for a moment, she returns with a small, pink, heart-shaped box that she holds out toward him. Upon opening it, he'd find sugar cookies with the added decoration of his face adorned by hearts surrounding him. Though not well-drawn by any means, it's certainly fitting for the holiday and charming in its own right. "I know that chocolate is...the customary gift but I wanted to try something different, a unique way of showing that I care for you..." And like him, she put her entire heart into making them.

Once he receives her gift, Ereshkigal takes the chance to pull him closer, tugging on the sleeves of his suit so that he'd lean down toward her though she still feels the need to meet him halfway by standing on her toes. "Regardless, I love you." And she first kisses his cheek, only to move to give him a quick peck on the lips. Chaste compared to their first, but still meaningful all the same. "H...Happy Valentine's Day."

[ruminativerabbi]

Reading Herzl as the Waters Rise

When I was in rabbinical school at JTS, I came across and read a short story by Theodor Herzl called, “The Menorah” that originally appeared in Herzl’s newspaper, Die Welt, on December 31, 1897. (I read it in the translation of Harry Zohn, a literary historian originally from Vienna and who then escaped from Nazi Austria and came to this country.) Buried in a volume with the dry-as-dust title, Zionist Writings: Essays and Addresses, the story made a great impression on me at the time and prompted me to read more of Herzl, notably Der Judenstaat (“The Jewish State”) and his novel, Altneuland (“Old-New-Land”). Eventually, I also read Das Neue Ghetto (“The New Ghetto”), the only one of Herzl’s sixteen published plays with any Jewish characters in it. Fascinated by the man still today revered as the father of political Zionism, I went on to read several volumes of excerpts from his voluminous diaries. (His diaries are still the best place to start if you want really to meet the man in a deep and personal way. To whet your appetite by reading Shlomo Avineri’s very interesting essay in their regard, click here.)

I took the time this week to reread “The Menorah” and I found it as interesting and worthwhile now as I did all those years ago when I first encountered it. And so, as a treat for these last few days of Chanukah, I thought I would offer it to you as a Chanukah reading treat. It’s a story for our time too, of course. The unnamed protagonist is a Jewish man whose sense of his own Jewishness is awakened by an unexpected resurgence of anti-Semitism, which Herzl calls “the age-old hatred,” in his time and place. And so is the stage set for a brief, moving rumination on the questions that such a development would naturally bring along in its foul wake. Should we respond to anti-Semitism by trying to become invisible (and hoping the bad people won’t notice us) or by publicly asserting our identity, thereby daring the haters to step out of the shadows and encounter us in the harsh light of glaring public scrutiny. Are we safer in the dark or in the light? Is anti-Semitism a contagion to flee from or a challenge to meet head-on? As the temperature rises, do the wise flee for the hills or stand up boldly where they are? (Is this starting to sound at all familiar?) These questions, asked by Herzl a full 125 years ago as he looked around his world and saw the cultural strictures that kept anti-Semites at bay slowly eroding, have many plausible answers. “The Menorah” is Herzl’s personal one and I offer it to you so you can decide if it can or should be yours as well.

Sincerely,

Rabbi Martin S. Cohen

 The Menorah

By Theodor Herzl

Translated from the German by Harry Zohn

ONCE THERE was a man who deep in his soul felt the need to be a Jew. His material circumstances were satisfactory enough. He was making an adequate living and was fortunate enough to have a vocation in which he could create according to the impulses of his heart. You see, he was an artist. He had long ceased to trouble his head about his Jewish origin or about the faith of his fathers, when the age-old hatred reasserted itself under a fashionable slogan.

Like many others, our man, too, believed that this movement would soon subside. But instead of getting better, it got worse. Although he was not personally affected, the attacks pained him anew each time. Gradually his soul became one bleeding wound.

This secret psychic torment had the effect of steering him to its source, namely, his Jewishness, with the result that he experienced a change that he might never have in better days because he had become so alienated.

He began to love Judaism with great fervor. At first he did not fully acknowledge this mysterious affection, but finally it grew so powerful that his vague feelings crystallized into a clear idea to which he gave voice: the thought that there was only one way out of this Jewish suffering — namely, to return to Judaism.

WHEN his best friends, whose situation was similar to his, found out about this, they shook their heads and thought that he had gone out of his mind. How could something that only meant an intensification and deepening of the malady be a remedy?

He, on the other hand, thought that the moral distress of modern Jews was so acute because they had lost the spiritual counterpoise which our strong forefathers had possessed.

People ridiculed him behind his back, some even laughed right in his face. But he did not let the silly remarks of people whose judgment he had never before had occasion to value throw him off his course, and he bore their malicious or good-natured jests with equanimity. Since his behavior otherwise was not irrational, people in time left him to his whim, although some used a stronger term, idée fixe, to describe it.

In his patient way our man over and over again displayed the courage of his conviction.

There were a number of changes which he himself found hard to accept, although he was stubborn enough not to let on. As a man and an artist of modern sensibilities, he was deeply rooted in many non-Jewish customs, and he had absorbed ineradicable elements from the cultures of the nations among which his intellectual pursuits had taken him. How was this to be reconciled with his return to Judaism? This gave rise to many doubts in his own mind about the soundness of his guiding idea, his idée maitresse, as a French thinker has called it.

Perhaps the generation that had grown up under the influence of other cultures was no longer capable of that return which he had discovered as the solution. But the next generation, provided it were given the right guidance early enough, would be able to do so. He therefore tried to make sure that his own children, at least, would be shown the right way. He was going to give them a Jewish education from the very beginning.

IN previous years he had let the festival which for centuries had illuminated the marvel of the Maccabees with the glow of candles pass by unobserved. Now, however, he used it as an occasion to provide his children with a beautiful memory for the future. An attachment to the ancient nation was to be instilled early in these young souls.

A menorah was acquired, and when he held this nine-branched candelabrum in his hands for the first time, a strange mood came over him. In his remote youth, in his father's house, such little lights had burned and there was something intimate and homelike about the holiday. This tradition did not seem chill or dead. The custom of kindling one light with another had been passed on through the ages.

The ancient form of the menorah also gave him food for thought. When had the primitive structure of this candelabrum first been devised? Obviously, its form had originally been derived from that of a tree: the sturdy stem in the center; four branches to the right and four to the left, each below the other, each pair on the same level, yet all reaching the same height.

A later symbolism added a ninth, shorter branch which jutted out in front and was called the shammash or servant. With what mystery had this simple artistic form, taken from nature, been endowed by successive generations? Our friend, who was, after all, an artist, wondered whether it would not be possible to infuse new life into the rigid form of the menorah, to water its roots like those of a tree. The very sound of the name, which he now pronounced in front of his children every evening, gave him pleasure. Its sound was especially lovely when it came from the mouth of a child.

THE first candle was lit and the origin of the holiday was retold: the miracle of the little lamp which had burned so much longer than expected, as well as the story of the return from the Babylonian exile, of the Second Temple, of the Maccabees.

Our friend told his children all he knew. It was not much but for them it was enough.

When the second candle was lit, they repeated what he had told them, and although they had learned it all from him, it seemed to him quite new and beautiful. In the days that followed he could hardly wait for the evenings, which became ever brighter. Candle after candle was lit in the menorah, and together with his children the father mused upon the little lights.

At length his reveries became more than he could or would tell them, for his dreams would have been beyond their understanding.

When he had resolved to return to the ancient fold and openly acknowledge his return, he had only intended to do what he considered honorable and sensible. But he had never dreamed that on his way back home he would also find gratification for his longing for beauty. Yet what befell him was nothing less.

The menorah with its growing brilliance was indeed a thing of beauty, and inspired lofty thoughts. So he set to work and with an expert hand sketched a design for a menorah which to present to his children the following year.

He made a free adaptation of the motif of the eight arms of equal height which projected from the central stem to the right and to the left, each pair on the same level. He did not consider himself bound by the rigid traditional form, but created again directly from nature, unconcerned with other interpretations which, of course, continued to be no less valid on that account. What he was aiming for was vibrant beauty.

But even as he brought new motion into the rigid forms, he still observed their tradition, the refined old style of their arrangement. It was a tree with slender branches; its ends opened up like calyxes, and it was these calyxes that were to hold the candles.

WITH such thoughtful occupation the week passed.

There came the eighth day, on which the entire row of lights is kindled, including the faithful ninth candle, the shammash, which otherwise serves only to light the others.

A great radiance shone forth from the menorah. The eyes of the children sparkled.

For our friend, the occasion became a parable for the enkindling of a whole nation.

First one candle; it is still dark and the solitary light looks gloomy. Then it finds a companion, then another, and yet another. The darkness must retreat.

The young and the poor are the first to see the light; then the others join in, all those who love justice, truth, liberty, progress, humanity and beauty. When all the candles are ablaze everyone must stop in amazement and rejoice at what has been wrought. And no office is more blessed than that of a servant of light.

[pizzacrustdisposal]

Considering this knowledge, I raise you this question my ancient friend;

If octopuses take over during the decline of humanity, how do you believe they will physically alter our forms to better serve in their society and match their ideals of bodily perfection? Would they put brains in our hands?

I have tried asking others this but I was quickly silenced, I would ask my partner but she is sleeping. So, I turn to you, my source of great and strange knowledge.

i am but young my boy….alas my bones must tell a different story…...

I truly believe that our shortage of limbs may become disadvantageous in a cephalopod’s world, and we may be selectively bred until we either conform to the octopus standard... or carcinise, for an endless supply of succulent crab meat.

Yet to truly resolve your query, we have naught but to ask the humble octopodes themselves:

This one in particular simply requested to be put back in the water. To scheme against the land-dwellers, no doubt. To each their own I suppose.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

To Have Loved and Lost Part Six

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part

Pairing: George Russell x Reader

Rating: M

Notes: Hiiiii welcome baaaaaack thank you for reaaaaadiiiiiiiing

Warnings: Angst–this one is reaaaaaal angsty this week y'all; Gilded Age Manners™; pining; The One That Got Away; not a traditional happy ending

Summary: This wasn’t tea. 

This was an ambush. 

“Please, do come in—”

“This is my daughter, Gladys.” 

“Yes, of course,” You nodded, “I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Russell.”  

“And I, yours.” 

Your mind was a flurry of panic and action as Mrs. Russell and a young woman glided into the foyer of the rented house. This was a scene that you’d seen only in your nightmares; you’d typically awoken safe in your certainty that such a thing would never be reality. You hoped now, in vain, that Kate would be along to awaken you in just a moment, but the nervous heating of your face and pounding of your heart ensured you that you were very much awake, and that the Russells were very much in your foyer. 

“I’m afraid we can’t stay long,” Mrs. Russell insisted, though she didn’t look at you as she said so. Her eyes darted from the stairway to the carpets, up to the ceiling, over to the clunky, antiquated mirror, and back again. As she met your eye, you offered her a bashful smile. 

“You see what I mean,” You offered softly. Mrs. Russell smiled. 

“I take it this is not to Mr. Hughes’ liking, either?” 

Nothing is, was the answer that sat readily on your tongue. You swallowed it in favor of, “Not particularly. Many of the houses that we saw are in similar styles.” 

“Auntie, what is it?” You heard Eleanor before she was whirling around the corner from the sitting room. At the sight of new people, she froze, eyes wide, mouth opening and closing like a fish for a few seconds. She clasped her hands in front of herself then, closing her mouth as a flush rose in her cheeks. 

“I’m sorry—I thought it may be a delivery. I didn’t know that we had company.” 

“It’s quite alright, my dear,” You soothed softly, raising your hand to beckon her closer. She took timid steps, glancing between Gladys and Mrs. Russell as she walked the rest of the way down the hall. “This my—Well, this is Franklin’s niece.” At Bertahs’ slight confusion, you offered, “Eleanor is my first cousin once removed.” 

“I see. May we see the drawing room?”

“Are you sure you want to?” 

Your tease was met with a single arched brow, and you turned, leading the way. 

“May I offer you some coffee?” You asked as you went. 

“Thank you, no. I’d like to get a look at what you have for a better sense of what you want.” 

You showed Mrs. Russell into the drawing room, and turned to say something to Eleanor—only to find her still in the front hall with Gladys. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the two of them chatting amiably. You could shoo them in, of course, but it was probably better if the two of them got to know one another without you or Mrs. Russell eyeing them. So you followed Mrs. Russell, instead. You fought the urge to speak up too quickly, simply giving her a moment to look around. 

“It’s very narrow,” She commented. You nodded, folding your hands in front of your middle. 

“The furnishings are also incredibly dark—it doesn’t help the feeling that things are so close and tucked in.”

“Mm. I take it the rest of the house is similar?” 

“Very. The bedrooms are a decent enough size, but they need more room for clothing, as well as larger desks.” 

“The kitchen?” 

“Adequate for minimal staff, but not satisfactory for a full house. We hope to move into the new rented house next week.”

“Further up the avenue?” 

“Yes, on Fifty-Third Street.”  

Mrs. Russell hummed thoughtfully, walking around to the bookshelves, eyes sweeping the texts thoughtfully before she turned to you again. 

“We must be going now.” Mrs. Russell looked around, brow furrowed a touch, and you nodded toward the door. 

“I believe the girls are speaking in the front hall.”

“Of course.” 

You followed Mrs. Russell out again, fingers flexing in your grip. 

“I do hope you’ll stay longer next time,” You offered. Mrs. Russell turned back to you, a gracious smile on her face. 

“We’d be delighted.” 

“It was lovely to make your acquaintance, Miss Russell.” 

“And yours,” Gladys nodded to the both of you, her face a mirror of her mother’s. Eleanor stepped back to your side, glancing down at your hands before mimicking your posture. You gave Mrs. Russell another nod before she and Gladys were shown out by the butler. You heard Eleanor huff in relief, then groan in frustration, whirling away. 

“How could I have been so silly!”

“My dear,” You reached out, patting her shoulder as she put her face in her hands. “Well all are sometimes. It was small enough. I’m sure there’s nothing for you to worry about.”

Eleanor nodded, despite her pout, and drifted through the drawing room, trailing her fingers along tomes on the shelves. You hung back, arms folding across your chest. In truth, you weren’t sure what impact Eleanor’s actions would have on Mrs. Russell’s opinions of you. Had you acted the same when you were Eleanor’s age, your mother would’ve scolded you until you were in tears. You couldn’t bring yourself to give Eleanor the same treatment. It had only driven you from her mother, and from what may’ve truly pure intentions for you, for right or for wrong. 

You glanced over at Eleanor again, watching her poke irritably at the spine of a book. 

“We ought to leave soon,” You spoke up, catching her attention. “We’ve dress fittings soon.” 

Eleanor mustered a smile, a nod, and an obedient, “Yes, Auntie,” before walking toward the stairs. 

--

The invitation to tea with Mrs. Russell had been a surprise. You hadn’t disliked your time in her presence thus far, but that had been different. When you’d dined with them, you hadn’t been alone with her all evening. Besides, Franklin had been there as a buffer (as had, Mr. Russell, but the less you said and thought about him, the better). Eleanor was elated to be added to this invitation, and had been fluttering about the house, unable to keep still since you’d told her. You just left her to it—it was better for her to unleash the energy before her first semi-serious social event in the city.

Though typically disagreeable, Franklin had been in fine fettle since your evening with the Russells. He’d hardly griped when his blueprints for the tannery were briefly misplaced during the move up the avenue, into the rented house. You could only surmise that your performance at dinner was satisfactory, and that Mr. Russell had made overtures to investing.

-- 

“Ah, right on time.” 

Mrs. Russell’s smile was controlled as ever, and you understand why. There were three other women in the drawing room besides Mrs. Russell and Gladys—faces that you could only place from your time dutifully studying the society papers. 

This wasn’t tea. 

This was an ambush. 

Still, you forced your expression into its practiced, neutral set, a genial smile on your lips as you and Eleanor walked more deeply into the room. 

“I’d like you to meet Mrs. Fane…Miss Marian Brook…And her friend, Miss Peggy Scott.” 

After each of the names, you and Eleanor offered a short, polite greeting. 

“Won’t you sit?” Mrs. Russell directed the two of you to a couch, beside Miss Brook. 

“Mrs. Russell tells us that you’re joining us from Chicago,” Miss Fane broached. 

“I am, yes. Eleanor comes from upstate.” 

“Whereabouts upstate?” 

“Albany.” 

“Your family has a home there?” 

“They do. The Hughes’.” 

“But you are not a Hughes.” 

“No. Mr. Hughes is my cousin, Eleanor is my first cousin once removed.” You answered each of the questions with patience and calm, hands folded neatly on your lap. You can’t help but admire Miss Russell, some. She’d convened a committee to ply answers from you. You were certain that they’d compare notes once you’ve left. You were sure Mrs. Russell would further match the answers back to those given the last time you were at the house. She was looking for cracks in your foundations before her family built on the relationship. 

“Are you from Chicago, then, if not Albany?” Miss Scott asked. 

“I was in Chicago with Mr. Hughes, and San Francisco before that.” 

“And you, Eleanor? How are you finding New York?” 

You glanced at Eleanor and found her wide-eyed and nervous. Her eyes darted to you, and upon seeing your encouraging smile, Eleanor smiled a touch as well. 

“I have yet to see much of it, but I have enjoyed what I have seen,” She said. You could see a small softening from Mrs. Fane at Eleanor’s gentle voice and hesitant words. 

“Ah,” Mrs. Russell spoke up, breaking into the conversation as a few servants came in with trays of cakes, cups and saucers. “The tea.” 

-- 

“I hope you didn’t find the interrogations terribly intrusive.” 

You smiled at Miss Brook’s pointed question. She seemed the earnest sort, and had gone out of the way to lob a few easy questions in Eleanor’s direction over the course of the afternoon. 

“I’ve been asked far worse by far more discourteous people, Miss Brook. There’s nothing for you to worry about.” 

Miss Brook smiled brightly, eyes darting to where Gladys and Eleanor were hurrying from the room. “I know that this city can be intimidating when you’re so new to it, especially when you come from a smaller town. Not that Albany is small, of course, but surely it’s a change of pace for Eleanor.” 

“Yes, it is. But, coming from another city…Well, New York is its own beast.” 

“Were you in Chicago long?” 

“For about six years.” 

“Goodness! And San Francisco before?” 

“Yes.” 

“For how long?” 

“...Quite a while. Nearly a decade.” 

“So you’re not from San Francisco?” 

You found yourself wondering if these questions were sprouting from Miss Brook’s natural curiosity, or if Mrs. Russell had asked for a plying, the name of your small town. 

“No,” You shook your head, “I’m from a very small town.” 

To your surprise, and perhaps your relief, Miss Brook nodded and moved on: 

“I came from a small town myself not so recently.” 

“And are you enjoying your time in New York?” 

“...I’ve found it more difficult than I thought I would,” She admitted softly, her eyes searching her hands. “I feel that…Well, looking back at when I first arrived, I was so green. I’m still learning.” 

“You seem set to the challenge, Miss Brook.” 

She smiles, glancing toward Mrs. Fane, Mrs. Russell, and Miss Scott are speaking before she leans in and offering, “So do you,” In a conspiratorial whisper. 

-- 

“Bertha?” 

The name was half-called out, and the sound makes your gut curdle with panic. Your hands tightened instinctively around each other as you gave a look around. There was nowhere for you to hide. You were not about to try and squeeze beside a bookshelf or beneath a side table. Besides being ridiculous, if anyone were to find you in that way? You couldn’t imagine the repercussions. Besides, the afternoon had otherwise gone so well. So you rooted yourself in your place, drew in a steady breath, and tried to force away the sick feeling curdling your stomach. 

Mr. Russell made it two steps into the drawing room before he went still at the sight of you. Neither of you moved or spoke for a moment, like a hunter and a deer catching sight of one another across the clearing. You finally tipped your chin up, giving a nod. 

“Good afternoon, Mr. Russell.” 

“Good afternoon.” 

“Mrs. Russell has gone to look in on Eleanor and Gladys.” 

“I see.” 

You expected that to be the end of it, and would’ve gladly seen Mr. Russell turn away from you, but instead he held steady. 

“I hope your time this afternoon was a pleasant one."

“It was.”

Silence, and stillness. It made that sick feeling rise. 

“I hope your business is going well,” You offered. 

“It is.” 

“You’re in a bidding war with Jay Gould for the Mohawk and Hudson Rail Road.” 

Mr. Russell’s brows rose at the reminder, and that sick feeling trickled toward your tightly clasped hands. 

“I am,” He nodded. “He’s a formidable opponent.” 

“I’m sure you’ll come through cleanly.” 

“...Thank you.” 

You nodded, lowering your gaze to the side table again. 

“Were you hammered with questions?” 

His query made you smile a touch.

“No more than usual,” You reassured, tipping your head to the side. “Your wife is very thorough.” 

“And you take issue with that?” 

The protectiveness that coiled his tone sent a surge of panic through you. 

“Not at all. I meant it as a compliment.” 

The two of you hold one another’s gaze for a long, tense moment before Mr. Russell gaze a nod of concession. “...You chose well,” You offered after a moment. 

“Yes, I did. The second time.” 

It was a low blow, and one that made you avert your gaze and swallow your protestation. 

“You disagree?” Mr. Russell plied. Your hands tightened around one another. You needed to take care. Whatever deal with Franklin may be forthcoming was still in flux. 

“I can only hope you have more faith in Franklin than you used to have in me.” 

“Mr. Hughes has given me no reason to distrust him.” 

“And I did?” You scoffed, unable to help your rising anger as the shock of his statement rattled through your system. 

“You’ll really pretend not to know what you’ve done?” 

“If you would please enlighten me, Mr. Russell.” 

“Cutting off contact and flittering off to California to marry a gold tycoon! Leaving me with questions, betraying the life that we agreed to build?” 

Your jaw worked wordlessly for a moment, confusion twining with consternation. 

“...A gold tycoon?” 

“I’ve the proof, given to me by your mother. You’ll deny it?” Mr. Russell asked tightly, walking toward you with the slow, measured strides of a huntsman. You searched for the words, pressing through your confusion before you finally managed, “Is that why you stopped writing?” 

George went still then, as if he’d nudged his boot against a tripwire and was wary of springing a trap. 

“You stopped writing,” He insisted. “No,” You swore, “Not until my mother sent me to San Francisco with Franklin.” 

George searched your expression for any flinch, any sign of deception. He would know how to find them—he used to watch you lie to your mother, to feign pleasantries with boarders. The realization of your mother’s actions began to wash over you in full force, and you turned from him, hands wringing as your breath became tight, and your eyes welled with horrified tears. You didn’t hear George follow you, and could only imagine that he was holding steady in the middle of the room. You pushed the tears away, clearing your throat as you pulled in a tight sniffle. 

“She never did like you,” You managed, blinking rapidly as you peered out of the window. “It wouldn’t be…Out of the realm for her to deceive for her own purposes…I suppose what you must ask yourself now, Mr. Russell,” You turned to face him again, “Is whether you believe it is outside of mine.” 

You fought to keep your voice steady and your head held high, but in the presence of this man, you felt about an inch tall. He held your gaze steadily, his jaw tight, and expression stony. 

You only registered the creak of the door opening, and the excited chatter of Gladys and Eleanor’s voices as they came into the room with Mrs. Russell. You turned to the bookshelf, eyes swimming as your anger and upset came on in waves. 

“Auntie? Must we go?” You heard. You turned to Eleanor, brows raised, and you realized that you must’ve missed an offer to dinner. 

“Yes, I am afraid so,” You nodded, “We’re still breaking in the new dining room.”

“We shall have to come and see your new lodgings,” Mrs. Russell smiled, tipping her head toward you. You forced a smile and a nod. “Of course. We’ll be happy to have you, once we've passed the growing pains.” 

--  

“Auntie?” 

“Yes?” 

“...Have I done something wrong?” 

You turned to Eleanor, still desperately pushing your smile onto your lips. 

“No, my darling,” You reassured, reaching out and patting her hand. “Did you enjoy yourself this afternoon?” 

“Very much,” She smiled widely. It didn’t take too much prodding for Eleanor to divulge which parts of the day had filled her with the most joy, and the most trepidation. You were happy for her to fill the otherwise heavy air in the carriage with her light chatter. 

Tempted as you were to retreat that evening, to go into your room and to stay there until the second coming, you went through the evening like a good, dutiful woman. After Kate helped ready you for the evening, you sat at your desk, dully eyeing the grain of the wood. You were drawn toward the siren song of the letters in the trunk, and the cuff link sitting therein. You could find something to rouse your interest in moving—not sleeping, or reading, or embroidery. You just sat, watching the dwindling candle and listening to the odd sounds of life beneath your window. 

There was nothing you could do to change the past—and surely there was nothing that you could do to change George Russell’s opinion of you, now.

Tag list: @foxilayde ; @wretchedwisteria ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @amneris21

[redhead-batgal]

Type: Two-Shot {A really really long part-one}

Part Two: Here

Pairing: Fem! and Librarian! Reader x Dick Grayson/Nightwing

Content: Cursing, flirtations, violence, reader with serious anxiety and some minor implications. Fluff, so much fluff.

P.S: An OC of mine is making an appearance in this so yeah just a heads up, it’s not the reader but she will be in it. Anyways, enjoy!

Word Count (So y’all know what you’re getting yourself into): 12,709 words

Y/N: Your Name, L/N: Last Name

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ You hadn't meant for anyone to see, you thought that after hours of no patrons it would be fine, however you were wrong. It was more embarrassing than anything, embarrassing all because it wasn't just anyone who had caught you. No it just had to be the first man you found yourself crushing on since the nasty break up with your Ex, Daniel. It just had to be Dick Grayson who caught you dancing through the aisle as you reshelved books, of course it did. It was just your luck.

A pop song had played on the radio as you drove in to work and it had gotten stuck in your head, when everything went quiet at the library, you felt the need to sing. And singing, usually led to dancing, reshelving the books was just for something productive to do really.

You had just slid a book back onto the shelf when the song in your head had a melody that seemed perfectly twirl worthy. So, you started twirling. And then you kept twirling, hoping to spin your entire way back to your desk to grab more books. However, before you made it to your desk you slammed straight into someone.

Instead of going tumbling to the ground like you expected, you felt hands on your waist steadying you. Blinking, you looked and found Dick Grayson smiling at you.

Shit.

Heat flushed your cheeks and you're fairly sure you let out a squeak or a squawk in surprise, due to the fact that Jason suddenly began coughing and hitting his chest. That unfortunately made you realize exactly what had just happened.

Twirling and slamming straight into Dick.

Fucking shit.

You felt like an idiot and shame burned bright on your cheeks. You were seconds from going into an all out panic at not only being caught doing your guilty pleasure, but you had seriously embarrassed yourself in front of your crush. A habit that you wished had died in high school.

Almost as if he sensed your panic, Dick instantly let go of you and took a step back. You nodded in thanks, feeling the terror climb up your throat as the thoughts slammed into you.

He's going to think you're too weird, he'll never talk to you again

You tried to push the thoughts back or counter them. It wasn't true, Dick was nice and something as small as catching you twirling wouldn't drive him away right? ....... Oh no, this wasn't good. He was probably never going to forget this, forever remembering you as the bumbling fool who twirled right into him.

As if he'd think of you, The thoughts seethed.

You forced a smile and it was then you realized he had said something to you. He was looking at you expectantly... he had asked you a question. A friendly smile was on his face and you tried to remember what he asked you.

Taking small glances at his face you realized that you had squeaked out a sorry instinctively after slamming into him. But other than that you couldn't recall what he said and even more panic raced over you.

He's going to think your an ass for not listening when he was speaking, it's rude and you are one

Resisting shoving your face into your hands you let out a small sigh and squeezed your eyes shut. If you wanted to answer his question, you were going to have to ask him to repeat it.

You ran through possible excuses and two popped into your head instantly.

Sorry long day, could you repeat that?

What was the question again?

The first one seemed perfect so you opened your mouth to speak and then you met his gaze.

"Sorrylongquestionrepeatthatday?"

He blinked and you saw the confusion on his face and you nearly wince. You knew that you could get it if you tried again.

Unfortunately you were wrong.

"Sorrypleaserepeatthaquestlong."

"What?"

Wincing you put a hand to your face and dragged it across it. Avoiding his gaze with your hands balled into fists you raised your voice slightly.

"Uh. sorry. can. you. please. repeat. the. question?" You remark slowly, pausing to make sure none of the words blur together again.

"Oh, yeah sure. I asked what you were doing that caused you to run into me? It looked like you were having fun, so I got a little curious. "

FUUUUUCCCCCKKKKK

"Oh uhm, well- uh it's super embarrassing, so I- uh- like- yeah." You stumbled over a reply before holding two thumbs up.

He looked at you confused for a moment before you decide not facing him was the best way to get through this. Moving quickly towards your desk, which was only a few feet away, you internally began planning your own funeral.

Moving behind the desk you sank down into your chair and spun around. Finding the top of a dark head you blinked until you saw the head raise and realized it was just Damian. He looked at your for a few seconds before narrowing his eyes and placing a book on the counter.

"Last time you recommended this book."

Picking up the book you looked at the title and cover. It was a standalone book by an author you rather liked, when the young boy had asked for a recommendation you nearly jumped for joy. Recommending books was one of your favorite things to do as a librarian.

"Yes, did you like it- sorry. Did you enjoy it?" You asked as you flipped through the pages, a habit to make sure nothing was stuck in the book and to keep you calm.

Something you realized with the youngest Wayne, was he preferred to be treated as an adult- or how he thought adults should be treated. So you pretend he was a scholar and talked to him as such. Damian appeared to be happy with the way you treated him and didn't completely hate you so you were content... at least for now.

"It was... adequate. Do you have any other recommendations?"

A smile played on your lips as you set the book down and a calming wave raced over you. Books were the one thing you could talk about and never falter, they were the one thing you knew so much about that you were sure you couldn't mess up talking about it.

"Well this author has multiple books that they've written... what was it about the book that made it... satisfactory? Was it the plot, the characters, or the writing style? Maybe even the genre?"

Damian's brow furrowed and you realized he didn't exactly know what he liked about the book. However, before you could offer to pick out another book for him, the boy nodded and stepped back from your desk.

"I will look into the other novels. Thank you."

He turned and began heading towards the aisles, the smile exploded on your face and you called after him.

"Happy to help."

Less than a minute later, Dick followed Damian shooting you a small smile. You instinctively looked down as your shame from earlier slammed into you yet again. After a minute or two you looked up and noticed how both he and Damian were out of sight. A sigh of relief escaped you and Jason came up to your desk, an eyebrow raised.

"You really fucked that up, you know." He remarked, setting a few books down.

Due to him constantly coming around and talking to you about books, you had become somewhat comfortable around Jason.

Rolling your eyes you waved a hand at him, "Oh buzz off asshole."

With a small smile on his face he raised his hands and shrugged. He apparently found your humiliation amusing, which did not surprise you. 

"I'm just saying." Jason said with a mischievous smile on his face. 

You gave him an irritated look and replied, "And I'm just saying I never asked."

He blinked almost in surprise and he raised an eyebrow at you and you dropped his gaze. Despite knowing him fairly well you still had a hard time looking him, or anyone else really, in the eyes for long periods of time. There was only really one person you didn’t mind looking in the eyes... and that of course was because it wasn’t his eyes you were looking into, but a mask. Before your thoughts could drift towards your vigilante friend a comment yanked you back into reality. 

"Well someone's touchy today."

You gave Jason a look, he was seriously testing your patience today. It was bad enough that he just stood there and laughed as you made a complete fool of yourself in front of your crush. You had expected him to at least help you out a little bit but he didn’t even though he knew how you felt about his brother... Maybe it was because of that.

He smiled at you and that only intensified your anger, you glared at him and he took a step back looking slightly defensive. If there was one thing about yourself you were proud of, it was your glare. You had been told that it scared even the bravest of Gotham’s vigilantes... though now that you think about it that was probably a sarcastic comment. 

"Hey,” Jason began leaning onto your desk, “as your friend I felt I should tell you."

Rolling your eyes you shook your head and began checking the book Damian had returned back in, "Of course you did."

Out of the corner of your eye you saw him narrow his eyes and move in closer to the desk. He was giving you a look almost as if he was daring you to say that again. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asks his voice pitching.

Sometimes, he’s rather sensitive. Shooting him looks out of the corner of your eyes you tried to fight off the smile that was working its way onto your face.

"Take a guess."

He lets out a slight huff and curses under his breath as if he realized you were messing with him. Peeking at him you find Jason shaking his head, a amused-yet-irritated smile on his face. You reached over and grabbed a couple of books in need of reshelving and placed the one you just checked in on top. You stared at the cover of the book at the top of your stack and you realized to reshelf this book you would probably have to see Dick... something that you really didn’t want to do. 

Suddenly you replayed what happened in your head and embarrassment washed over you yet again. Fiddling with the pile you bit your lip then you shot Jason a look, hesitating slightly before you finally asked.

"Was I obvious and awkward or just an awkward mess?"

He shrugged as he gave you a look of contemplation. Rubbing his face he remarked, "Well I can't really say because I know you have the hots for him."

Your jaw dropped and you swatted at him, your face turning pink. He ducked away from your hand laughing and you glared at him. You cleared your throat and looked around. Standing no more than three feet away was an old lady you knew by the name of Whitney. She was sweet, but she loved to gossip. And you hardly needed your personal drama- well not drama, love life- it wasn’t really even your love life... you hardly needed personal things out and about, being talked about during Thursday’s bridge club. 

The only way you could continue your conversation in any privacy was to walk around and reshelf books. Picking the pile up, you paused to slide the book on top to the bottom, before you began walking towards the aisle. Motioning with your head for Jason to follow you.

“Come on,” 

You walked to where the new book on top needed to be reshelved, it just so happened to be on the other side of the library to your relief. You slid the book back where it belonged then set your pile on an empty space on the shelf in front of you. Leaning against the shelf behind you, you grabbed at a loose strand of hair that you missed when pulling it up into a messy bun that morning. Twirling the stay strand around your finger you let out a sigh and looked at Jason. You felt as if you had to explain. 

It wasn’t just a minor crush you had, not really. After the whole mess with Daniel you were honestly surprised you could like any man that way again. Yet somehow you found yourself feeling that way about Dick, he was nice and funny, and sweet and- you could go on and on. Letting out a sigh you bit your lip again.

"I do not have the hots for him, I- I-." You stumbled to explain exactly what you were feeling. 

"You fancy him?" Jason inquired, a smile quirked on his lips as he leaned in. 

You laughed slightly, shaking your head, "Have you been reading Jane Austen again?"

"No,” He replied, his smile slowly fading, “what is it about him that you like?"

“Well,” You began hearing your voice crack slightly. 

You didn’t really know how to explain it, and trying would only make you feel like a bitch if you didn’t explain it right. 

“I don’t really know how to explain it,” You sighed before you unraveled the strand from your finger and put your hands behind your back, “He’s super nice and sweet and funny. He- he’s nice to me but he doesn’t pity me despite knowing about... despite knowing about what happened with Daniel. I know that I find his presence comforting-”

Jason snorted, then remarked, “So comforting that you can’t speak?”

You let out a scoff and shook your head.

“He’s just so....”

“Ridickulos?” Jason laughed as he shook his head, “I’m sorry I had to do that one. If he found out I didn’t he’d never forgive me.” 

You rolled your eyes and shoved Jason before studying the bookshelf in front of you.

“Amazing, he’s fun and cool and- I have a hard time talking around him because- because I think I can’t really compare to him. I mean I’m a mess most of the time, barely able to make a coherent sentence without having to repeat it a bajillion times and yet he doesn’t treat me differently. I get so scared that if and I were to become friends he’d find out how weird I actually am and suddenly not want to be friends with me anymore. Worse when I talk I fear that I’ll say something stupid and the same thing with happen. That he’ll never want to talk to me again and my crush will literally end up crushing me. Even though I know that’s not true. He’s- he’s like everything I need.”

You faintly remember a phrase you had said the moment you realized you liked him. It played in your head as you waited for Jason to respond. 

All The Man That I Need

It was fairly true, as far as you could tell he was all the man that you needed. But you didn’t exactly fully know him so you couldn’t definitively say if the statement was correct. It’s a good thing however that you hated definites.  

“Well, what about the other guy?”

Other guy? You blinked as you realized what exactly Jason was referring to. You had told him that you were spending time with a vigilante, as friends of course. It was strange to think you had befriended Nightwing without really trying at all. Maybe making friends wasn’t as hard for you as you thought... well it didn’t exactly help that you did see him as a friend however he was, for the longest time, your celebrity crush. 

Befriending him was a reality check of sorts, he was a hero, but he was also just a guy. A guy who you surprisingly got along well with. However the reality check also made you realize no matter how awesome he was in person there could never be a relationship with him. He was a vigilante and you could never know his identity. That idea got promptly thrown out when you began to find yourself taking solstice in his visits back when you and Daniel were together. 

“I thought I told you,” You began with a sigh, “that it would never work out.” 

Jason shrugs and pulls a book off of the shelf examining it. He opens the book and looks at you. 

“You did, but I thought it couldn’t hurt to keep your options open.” 

Rolling your eyes you leaned over to see that in the book he opened characters were reading from William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. Jason hums slightly before he closes the book and taps your head with it.

“Reading a lot of Shakespeare recently?” You question instead of protesting, protesting was what he wanted and you were beginning to feel the effects of socializing.

“More or less,” He replied, reshelving the book. 

He turned fully to you and a light appeared in his eyes. Jason got a devilish look on his face and you suddenly began to fear what was going to happen next.

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?"

You narrowed your own eyes and shook your head. To many possibilities for what could go wrong, better not, "I’d rather you didn't."

Jason leaned in, his eyes glittering as if he had a plan formulating in his head and in your experience Jason’s plans never went well. However before you could reaffirm your decision he commented, “Might make him jealous."

You blinked a few times, the idea seemed interesting. It was tempting as hell until the little voices, the negative Nancy’s as your mother used to call them, began to speak up.

As if he’d ever be jealous over you

He has to like you in the first place, he probably thinks you’re a freaky weirdo.

You swallowed trying to not let the harsh thoughts hurt as much as they actually did. Shaking your head you shot Jason a grateful smile.

"No, it's okay,” You paused as an idea popped into your head, “But I could compare you to a summer's day."

Surprise was frozen on his face for half a second before he snorted and rolled his eyes. He gave you a look before replying, "Eh, well I don't think it is accurate."

".... You could compare him to a summer's day." You said before you could think it through.

Without even missing a beat Jason replied, "Or you could,"

No, you couldn’t. If you tried, even though he wasn’t actually there, you’d probably combust due to embarrassment and it would be just your luck if he just so happened to be walking up as you did it. Anyways you weren’t very good with sonnets. Poetry and rhymes were a bit easier but regardless it just wasn’t your thing. 

"I’ve never really been one for sonnets, Besides it'd be more accurate if you did it." You informed him with a shrug.

"Of course it would."

His words were a bit sharp, as if something was bothering him. You decided to ignore it considering that it wasn’t really your business. However what he said was a challenge in itself. He was basically saying you were chickening out. He wasn’t wrong but he had no right to call you on it. 

"Are you implying what I think you are?" You asked, trying to keep your tone light. 

“Probably.” He shrugged, smiling that devilish, his voice softer than before.

Narrowing your eyes you crossed your arms and remarked, “For the sake of this friendship, I’m going to disregard that comment.” 

His eyes lit up once again and you realized you gave him what he wanted, while you didn’t know what it was for you did know what it was. An opening. 

“And for the sake of this friendship I am going to compare you to a summer’s day.” 

This was probably going to be the funniest or dirtiest thing you heard this week, and you honestly didn’t mind. You were getting exhausted and needed a good laugh. As they always say, laughter is the best medicine.

“Oh no,” You replied, pretending to tremble while weakly laughing. 

Ignoring your comment, he held his arms out towards you before he dramatically declared, “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?”

Without hesitation you deadpanned, “No,”

He shot you a glare, taking a step forwards before getting the dramatic look on his face again, gazing past you he took in a breath.

“Thou art more hot and more smelly.”

You laughed slightly before he shot you a chastising look and continued,

“Rough farts do shake the tiny arm hairs of me,”

Giggles began to build up your throat, but you pushed them back as Jason waved his hands around the air almost as if he was trying to swat a fly. 

He took in a breath and looked directly at you, “And summer’s air hath all to gross a smell,”

Pressing a hand to your face you shove back your laughter and you nod at him a few times. His face is frozen, his hands hanging limply at his sides and you realize he’s stuck. Shaking your head you wait a moment when an idea for the next line pops into your head. 

“Sometime too wet the back of my neck shines?”

His face lights up and he smiles at you before remarking, “Oooo good one.”

Slipping back into the dramatic, Shakespearean crack actor he holds his hands out again. Forming his face into what you can only assume is a regal expression he continues, 

“Sometime too wet the back of my neck shines.... and often is it’s slick complexion....”

He paused for another moment and began snapping his fingers as if the word was on the tip of his tongue. 

“Dried.” You piped up nearly biting back laughter.

Pointing a finger at you he exclaims, “Yes!”

Jumping back once again into the persona he shoots you a wink out of the corner of his eye. You roll your eyes as giggles escape you. 

“And often is it’s slick complexion dried. And every fly from fly sometime declines.”

You give him a look, laughter fighting to be released before shaking your head and shaking your hands.

“That doesn’t make sense.” 

Jason swats at you not breaking his gaze, he had locked in on something behind you and you hoped it wasn’t a person, “Hush, I’m not done.” 

You snorted and then let out a cough to try and subdue the oncoming barrels of laughter that were threatening to explode from you. 

“By swat or by swatter’s shrieking ass stumbling.”

That was the last straw, giggles, cackles and chortles escaped from you and you pressed your hand to the shelf behind you to stay standing. 

“Oh my fucking gosh- stop- please.” You wheezed in-between your laughter.

Jason gave you a look and you tried to stop yourself from cackling.

 He waited until you had quieted down a bit to ask, “Should I do the next line?”

“NO! NO, I can’t take- I couldn’t make it through another.” You exclaimed shaking your head. 

Letting out a sigh Jason shot you a look that looked a little bit to much like pout for you to take seriously. 

“Can I at least say the best lines?”

“You’ve thought that far ahead?”

“Yes,”

Giggling slightly you sighed then nodded, “Fine.”

Slipping back into the Shakespearean actor persona he held his hand out almost exactly mimicking the classic Hamlet pose. The mere action of him going back into the act had you giggling again. He opened his mouth, covering your own with your hand to stop yourself from interrupting him anymore; you let out a slight snort. He stepped forwards and you pressed yourself against the shelves to get a better view of him. 

“When in eternal thighs to highs thou grow’st.”

A mixture between a wheeze and squeak escapes you and you have to squeeze your hand over your mouth and nose to stop yourself from cackling again. From where you stood, you could see Jason’s eyes glowing almost as if he found this amusing as you found the new sonnet funny. 

“So long as men can’t breathe,” He remarked, “or bi’s can’t pee.”

Another hybrid of a sound escaped you and you could see his shoulders shaking. He straightened himself out and began to finish,

“So long lives the bitch that gives fuck’s not to thee-” 

You couldn’t help yourself, it wasn’t like the other lines where it practically mirrored the syllables of the original line, the new last line was a mess. 

“That’s not rig-” You protested as you fought off a grin. 

Suddenly his hand was covering your mouth and you gave him a shocked look that momentarily stopped your laughter. After the shock left the laughter returned in ten-fold. Giggles escape you and you tried your hardest not to meet his gaze however you couldn’t help yourself, looking Jason in the eyes you saw how serious he was and you giggled even more. He removed his hand and you bit your lip to stop yourself from snorting again, it was the laugh of yours you hated the most, made you feel a little too much like a pig. 

Jason looked beside you and you were thankful, though he could be an ass sometimes he was nice enough to try and help prevent your anxiety or at least make it less intense. Your body began to shake as you fought off any and all laughter. You needed him to get through all of it so he wouldn’t repeat it. Covering your mouth with both hands you pressed against the shelves and squeezed your eyes shut

“As I was saying,” He remarked, “So long lives the bitch that gives fuck’s not to thee... and scene.”

Peeking an eye open you find Jason bowing and you lose it, your hands barely make it away from your face before you explode into a fit of snorts that don’t seem to stop. Your body begins to bend and you begin caving in on yourself, letting your head hang down you continue to laugh and snort. Rising back up you press a hand to your chest in a hope to make the laughter stop but it is in vain. You felt your cheeks flushing and your blood rushing to your face as you tried to quiet down.

Jason smiled and you took a breath before giggling relentlessly. Shaking your head you realized despite how funny it was you did have some critiques. 

“Can you say that stuff about bi’s?” You asked your breath nearly hiccupping as you snickered.

He shrugged before pressing a hand to the bookshelf right by your head and winking, “I am bi so I can say whatever the hell I want.”

“All-righty then, kiddo.” You nodded snorting as you moved your hand from your chest. 

Suddenly someone walks up however they speak before you can turn, “Hey guys, what you talking about?”

Something about the tone was off to you, you didn’t know exactly what but you knew that whoever the person was, they weren’t happy. 

Simultaneously both you and Jason say, “Nothing.” 

Giggling again you smile at Jason and look over to find Damian and Dick. Usually panic would flood you and slowly it was, however you still had laughter floating around your chest and it was slowly escaping you like a leaky faucet. 

Damian narrowed his eyes, “You were talking about me weren’t you?”

For a moment you were confused until you blinked, realizing that he thought the two of you were laughing at him. Thinking for half a moment about what you were doing made more laughter push through. However it’s not only normal laughter but scared laughter. It was something you noticed in the middle of your junior year, when in moments of high fear or panic where you didn’t know what to do, you laughed.

“N-no.,” You tried to start, but upon seeing Damian’s upset face terrified giggles stopped you, “we- we weren’t talk-talking about you.” 

Jason cleared his throat and you had flashbacks to when he was beginning the sonnet, a snort bubbled from you. It was loud and very pig-like causing your entire face to turn a brighter red than it already was. 

"We might be,” Jason said, “whatch-ya gonna do about it pipsqueak?"

The tone he had made the laughter begin to die in your chest, you knew that Jason and Damian didn’t get along well most of the time. You just didn’t know why, some days they seemed fairly close other days it seemed like they would rip each other’s throats out.

"I'll make you stop Todd." Damian seethed and your laughter vanished with one last hybrid squeaking snort. 

Moving away from you, Jason took a few steps towards Damian, shoving his hands in his pockets, "I'd like to see you try gremlin." 

"Stop calling me names Todd."

Jason laughed and looked back at you, you shot him a warning look but he ignored you, "Or what short-stack? You gonna bite my ankles?"

"Jason-" Dick began when Damian interrupted him with a snarl.

"Go on, keep calling me names, see what happens."

The two boys were closer now, a mere three feet away from each other. Without even thinking it through you stepped in between them and raised your hands as if to push both of them away from each other. Shooting them both a reprimanding glare you watched as the fight died from both of them pretty quickly.

Sighing in relief you lowered your hands and nodded before noting the stack of books that needed to be reshelved on the shelf almost gathering dust. 

“Alright boys, behave now. I’m going to go and reshelf the rest of these books. When I return I expect the two of you to be getting along, or else.” You remarked moving towards the books.

Jason stepped out of your way and seemed to understand the entirety of your threat, Damian on the other hand didn't.

“Or else what?” He asked his eyes narrowed

Picking up the books you turned back to him and raised an eyebrow, “Do you really want to know?” 

His shoulders sank down and Damian fully backed down. He looked away form you and you nodded satisfied. Turning you left to go reshelf the books. You got down to the last one when a young girl stopped you. 

She looked up at you with big eyes and asked, “Do you have any books I could read?”

You stared at her sweet face for a moment before pulling a book off of the shelf and handing it to her. She took the book with a bright smile on her face and she turned and left. Staring at the last book in your hand you slid it back where it belonged and spun around. 

Instead of finding a bunch of shelves you found Dick standing behind you, internally you screamed and you felt your eyes widen instinctively. He smiled and leaned in towards you. 

"Have any recommendations for me?" He asked

Panic washed over you and it was suddenly hard to breathe, you loved to recommend books but him asking was like someone asking to see your diary. 

Fumbling for words you replied, "Uh-I- uh well- what. do. you. like?

It was then that you realized Dick was here with you, which meant that the boys were left alone. Alone and unattended, while of course that could be a good thing. It also meant that they could trash the library, Jason could tell Damian about your crush, the small boy had a habit of blurting out things he found not secret keeping worthy! 

Giving Dick a worried look you stepped forwards and rushed to ask him, if he did in fact leave them alone,

"watdidyaeveemown?"

“I’m sorry what?” He gave you a very confused look.

“Did you leave them alone?!” You nearly shrieked as panic overtook your body.

“Uh yeah.” 

“SHIT.”

Turning you ran down two aisles back to where Damian and Jason were. Surprisingly instead of finding them in an all out battle you found them cackling.

"You- you are amazing. And so fucking dense." Jason breathed out in between his laughter. 

"What?" You asked completely and totally surprised as the panic began to slip away from you.

"Nothing, nothing at all Y/N." He sighed wiping imaginary tears. 

You were astonished and confused, how could they do that? Go from being at each others throats ready for blood to buddies in less then ten minutes? Shaking your head you let out a sigh and went to turn around when you spotted Dick in the corner of your eye. You then remembered he asked for a recommendation and were thankful you had an excuse to run away.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to recommend a book but more as it was hard to think straight around him. Your brain turned to mush and it was hard for you to bring any good books to mind. Looking at the shelf across form you, you spotted an old favorite of yours. Throughout all of high school it was your comfort book and it might just be the perfect book for him. 

Yanking it off the shelf you turned and held it out to him. He took it from you smiling slightly as though he was extremely confused but wanted to be polite. 

“What’s this for?” He asked

“Gookbood.” You mumbled out after you accidentally met his gaze.

You were stuck, of course you had the option to look away, however if you did you’d only feel even more embarrassed, if you kept looking however.. let’s just say you think it’d be bad for your health.

“What?” Dick asked leaning forwards clearly trying to hear you better.

“Bokgood-” You began before you realized you messed up only to try again, “Ookkbod.”

Slamming your eyes shut you clenched your fists and nearly yelled, “GOOD BOOK.”

With that you kept your eyes closed and turned walking away as Damian and Jason cackle at you. Probably at your inability to even form coherent sentences. Instead of heading back towards your desk you moved past it into the backroom, gathering your things as fast as you could you headed towards the front desk. Upon seeing you, Marian, the head library gave you a worried look. 

“Everything alright Y/N?”

“Uh, yeah I’m just gonna end my shift early.”

“You’re shift has been over for an hour dear... though you usually stay till closing...” Her tone told you that she was worried. 

Closing your eyes again you winced but then you heard Marian sigh and you peeked an eye open seeing her typing something in her computer.

“If any one asks...” You began before wincing again as the thoughts hit you.

As if they would

“If anyone asks, I’m not feeling well. Alright?” 

Marian nodded a small smile on her face as she looked at something in one of the aisles, "Go on Y/N, have a good weekend. I’ll see you again on Monday.” 

She waved you along and you hurried out the door. Before you could even make it to the parking lot you spotted one of the libraries regulars. Mira, was a few years younger then you and very excited about books. Unknown to her and probably himself, Jason had taken a shining to her. 

Upon seeing you her eyes lit up and she hurried over to you. Smiling brightly Mira enthusiastically greeted you.

“Hi, Y/N. I know you’re probably about to head home but I just wanted to tell you I loved the book you recommended and say hi.” 

Her face was it’s natural pink and she seemed to realized how much you were freaking out. Her smile slid from her face and she reached out a hand as if to try and comfort you before she put it back down. 

“Are you okay?” 

You didn’t exactly know what to say. While Mira was a constant and almost as close a friend to you as Jason was, you couldn’t exactly tell her what was going on. 

With a weary sigh you turned back towards the doors to see Dick, Jason and Damian walking out them. Even more panic raced over you as they spotted you and Mira. 

Mira hummed slightly before patting your arm and turning towards the boys, they began to approach. They were only a couple of a feet away when Mira stopped them.

“Hi,” She said grinning brightly, “I’m Mirabilis Cadman, but everyone calls me Mira. It’s nice to meet you.” 

You watched for a moment as Dick hesitated, Damian gave Mira a scrutinizing look and Jason, well Jason seemed to be completely unaffected however you knew better. Mira held her hand out to Dick and he shook it.

“Hey, I’m Dick Grayson. This is my little brother Damian. Pleasure to meet you.” He replied smiling

For a moment a strange look crossed Mira’s face her smile faltering then she blinked and looked to Damian for a moment. Then she noted the book he was carrying. Smiling again she also held her hand out to him. 

Shooting him a wink she remarked, “Good choice, glad to see one of you has taste.” 

It was then that you remembered how one night after Mira had volunteered to help you clean up the library after a long day of elementary school classes coming in you had told her of your crush on Dick Grayson and how it seemed that, at the time he was ignoring you. 

Fuck

Meanwhile Jason was trying to hide cackles behind coughs. Hitting his chest twice he gives Mira a amused look before he held his hand out to her. Once she took it he said,

“Sup, Jason, Jason Todd.” 

Mira blinked twice, confusion was clear on her face for a moment before she shrugged and let go of his hand. Looking away from the two of them you noticed how Dick was staring at you.

Shit.

Mira eventually caught his line of sight and you watched as her eyes widened slightly. She kept the smile on her face though. Dick gestured to you and began to speak, “We need Y/N, she is just-”

“She isn’t feeling well,” Mira explained and you noted the hand behind her back waving for some reason, “But, I’d be happy to help you out in anyway I can. I know this library like the back of my hand. I spend a lot of time here... maybe too much time.” 

You watched as she continued to wave and realized she was signaling you to leave. She was helping with your get away. As you hurried towards the parking lot and your car you know one thing for sure. You owed her big-time.

It didn’t take you long to get to your car, as you fumbled with your keys you came to a realization. 

You recommended him, Dick Grayson, a book. He frequently came to the library and sometimes tried to talk to you. He would want to talk to you about the book. Which meant the possibility of embarrassing yourself in front of him again, and no Mira to save you. 

Fucking shit

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Insomnia was a bitch, but it wasn’t just anyone’s bitch it was anxiety’s bitch... then again so were you. 

It was probably close to three a.m. when you decided you were hungry and climbed out of your very warm bed to wander into the kitchen. Unfortunately flies had beat you there, while there was only two or three, but they annoyed the hell out of you. Picking up the fly swatter you spotted a fly a few feet away from you and you lunged forwards swinging your arms and legs. You slapped at the fly and successfully hit it. Pretending to bow to a cheering crowd you mouthed ‘thank you, thank you.’

Standing up straight you held your fly swatter like a blade and a thought popped into your head.

Ninja, fly ninja, you are the fly ninja.

Jumping around as you let out soft hi-yah’s and other ninja noises you tried and failed to hit the two flies. Creeping up on one of the flies you swung the flyswatter out and smacked it into the wall. Jumping and doing a side kick you remarked,

“Hoi-yah! Take that fly! No one can best me. Because I’m The fly ninja.”

It was then you heard the chuckling. Blinking you turned and found standing in your kitchen in his blue and black glory, your friend, Nightwing. The thoughts slammed into you as you found yourself stumbling back towards your couch. 

He just saw you looking like a fucking idiot, you are never going to live this one down

However instead of freaking out, when you saw the incredibly amused look on his face you found yourself irritated. You froze for just a moment before you grabbed a pillow and chucked it at him. He dodged it with a laugh.

“Wouldn't ninja fly be better.... wait no that's a fly who is a ninja,” he mused while laughing and dodging yet another pillow you threw. 

He thinks your weird, he’s probably laughing at yo-

“You,” Nightwing said, yanking you out of the thoughts, “have the worst taste in cereal.”

Blinking you found him standing in front of one of your cupboards, crossing your arms you gave him a look and he closed the cupboard. Turning towards you he leaned against the counter with one hand, effectively blocking your way into the kitchen.  

“Just to let you know.”

Rolling your eyes you snorted, then pushed past him to get into your kitchen. Yanking a cup from your cupboard you walk over to the electric kettle and fill it with water before turning it on and placing the mug next to it.

"You,” You began as you walked back out of the kitchen, ”break into people's apartments in the middle of the night, what right do you have to judge my cereal?"

He snorted and rested his elbows on your counter. Behind him Red Robin slipped into your kitchen and began raiding your cabinets for coffee, which as of late, was normal.

“True, but do I really deserve such scorn from the fly ninja?” 

Behind Nightwing you see Red Robin pause and turn towards you. He mouths ‘fly ninja?’ tilting his head in confusion. Biting your lip to hold back laughter you smiled and then shrugged. He nodded and turned back to raiding your cabinets. 

Looking at Nightwing you raised an eyebrow and then rested your elbows on your counter before placing your face in your hands.

“You broke into my apartment, startled me. Insulted my ninja abilities and then you insulted my cereal choices. So yes, I do believe you deserve my scorn.”

Nightwing held up a hand in disagreement as he shook his head. Behind him the electric kettle steamed then clicked off, “I did not insult your ninja skills. I- I was admiring them.”

Narrowing your eyes you fought off a grin as you replied, “So you say.”

Usually you would be worried saying stuff like this to even the closest of your friends, however, despite your sometimes snarky remarks and extreme weirdness Nightwing continued to come and visit you. Which told you that it didn’t matter how weird or much yourself you were he wouldn’t leave... or at least you hopped so. 

Taking on a playful tone he remarked, "Well someone's grumpy." 

Holding up a hand you waved it at him as Red Robin grabbed a mug and began pouring the water into it, the instant coffee right next to him.

"Listen- listen I haven't had my tea yet." 

Nightwing blinked once and then he pushed off of the counter and he laughed slightly. It took you a minute to realize he was confused and a little nervous.

“You don't drink coffee?"

"Caffeine and I don't get along." You said with a shrug.

This only seemed to confuse him more, he shook his head and looked at you slightly astonished before he asked, “Then why do you have so much of it?”

Smiling, you met his gaze and pointed behind him, “Turn around.”

Turning he looked and saw Red Robin stirring a cup of coffee. He paused and watched with you as Red Robin pulled a small energy drink from his belt and he poured it into the cup. Nightwing walks over to him and picks up the mug from his body language; it looked as if he was giving Red Robin a scolding look.

"You know this is probably gonna kill you right?"

Red Robin shrugs and replies, "It was bound to happen sooner or later."

A giggle escaped you and both Nightwing and Red Robin turned towards you. You cleared your throat as Nightwing smiled and Red Robin looked at the two of you. A strange expression passed his face before he shook his head and headed for the fire escape.

“You owe me a new mug.” You remarked pointing a finger at him.

Nightwing looked startled then he gestured to the fire escape exclaiming, “No, he does.”

You shrugged as you headed into the kitchen “He’s your underling.”

“Red Robin is not my underling.” 

Though you couldn’t see him you could hear his tone. He sounded offended and a little upset. From this you could tell that he respected or at least had a lot of respect for Red Robin. 

A memory tickles the back of your mind, someone calling Red Robin little bird. You didn’t exactly remember who but your bet was on Nightwing. 

“Fine, he’s your little bird. Isn’t that what you call him?” You remarked with a shrug. 

“no.” 

You blinked a few times and sighed, “Oh, well anyways he’s still a kid and if he drinks that much coffee I doubt he could actually get me a new mug. I mean he literally has to steal coffee from here... maybe I should get disposable cups.”

A surprised look crossed his face, “Wait, he does this often?”

“Yeah, but usually he drinks all of the coffee and leaves the mug.”

Nightwing hums and he nods as if was contemplating something. Maybe it was why Red Robin did what he did or maybe it was something else. 

“Huh, he must like you if he keeps coming back.”

Letting out a snort you nodded before sarcastically remarking, “Or he likes the coffee.”

Not understanding you were using sarcasm, Nightwing shook his head, a fairly serious look on his face, “It’s instant coffee I doubt it can be that good... It’s a high honor to be liked by Red Robin.” 

“Sure it is...” You rolled your eyes not fully believing him, before you could stop yourself you said, “no one likes me, or at least they shouldn’t”

"Well I like you."

You blinked and looked over to him, he was giving you an innocent look and you blinked again. You couldn’t have heard what you just did right? People wouldn’t tell someone- they wouldn’t tell you they liked you to your face... right?

"Wait, did you just say what I think you said?" 

A smile appeared on his face and he nodded slowly, “Yes, I did in fact say that I like you."

He likes you, he just said so, and repeated what he said. So, he must really mean it, truly mean it. Before you were going about in unknowing and now the reality of everything hit you. 

Of course you were aware people who were your friends liked you, but no one had really ever said it to your face. You were shocked and a little embarrassed. 

"Oh."

A sly grin appeared on Nightwing’s face and he leaned in towards you continuing, “You are the fly ninja after all.”

"Oh my gosh.” You replied as you shoved your face into your hands trying your hardest not to laugh. 

“By the way I’ve been meaning to ask you the fly ninja to all flies or just certain ones?”

You closed your eyes, shaking your head as laughter bubbled up in your lungs. Nightwing ignored your attempts at withholding giggles and continued. 

“Like is it only fruit flies and the ones that hover around bananas or?”

Biting your lip you pulled away from your hands your face red, forcing the laughter back you looked him dead in the eyes and replied, “All flies obviously, I’m not discriminatory.”

He smiled and laughed. Silence cleaved the air and you felt nervous tension arise in you. 

Quickly clambering for a topic to talk about you asked, “What were we talking about again?”

“About how I find you very a-peeling.” 

You hesitated for a moment before giving him a disbelieving look. You shook your head, “... did you just- no. I’m not gonna, no.” 

Pretending it never happened, you look away from him and move towards your couch leaning against it you let out a sigh. 

“Read any good books lately.” Nightwing asks from your kitchen, a clatter of sorts following him, most likely he was raiding your cabinets as well. 

“Of course,” You sighed, working as a librarian meant that you always had a good book, “What about you?”

Almost chuckling he replies, “Well I’m reading a book about anti-gravity... It’s impossible to put down.”

“That’s terrible.” You smiled, shaking your head trying not to laugh as well. 

“Oh I know.” He laughed.

With a sigh you looked over your shoulder momentarily to see him looking into one of your cabinets. Not wanting things to go silent you decided to ask a safe question that will continue the conversation at least for a little while.

“How was your day?”

“It wasn’t too bad,” He began and something in his tone made you narrow your eyes, “Somebody stole all of my lamps. I couldn’t be more de-lighted. And this morning I wanted to take pictures of the fog but I mist my chance. I guess I could dew it tomorrow.” 

Biting back laughter you turned away from him, placing your face into your hands, “Stop. These puns are too cheesy.”

“But I thought they were gouda.”

You froze rolling your eyes as a slight snort escaped you, “Dude.”

“It’s cheddar if you don’t get mad.” He continued.

Shaking your head again you closed your eyes trying your hardest to tune him out before you burst into a fit of laughter once again. 

“I swiss you had the same humor as me. I won’t provolone this anymore. After all, I havarti taken this too far.” Nightwing snorted laughing as he made pun after pun. 

“Oh ma gosh.”

Looking towards the ceiling you fought off a grin and the laughter, the tired laughter that was building up in your chest. 

“I colby a better parmesan and stop all these cheesy pins but I ricotta continue.”

Before you could stop yourself laughter escaped you as you turned towards him again to see him looking at you with a mischievous smile on his face. You laugh a little harder and his smile widens, “Brie the way, how was your day today? I saga know.” 

Letting out a snort, you smiled at him and decided to try a pun yourself, “That wasn’t very puny.”

For a moment a look of surprise crossed his face before a grin broke out across it and you felt your heart do a strange little fluttering jump.

Shaking his head he laughed, remarking, “Oh! That’s terrible, I love it.” 

Your heart did an even bigger fluttering jump and you looked away from him. You didn’t exactly like what was happening. But you knew. Trying to change the subject before your heart fluttered again you moved around the arm of the couch and sat down. 

“How was your day actually though?”

“Eh.” 

You froze for a moment, it was a rare occasion in which Nightwing only said one worded replies. Usually it meant there was something he didn’t want to talk about or something he really wanted to vent about or ask advice about. 

Not even turning towards him you stuck your hands under your legs and swung them slightly.

“Eh? Why eh?”

There was a pause, almost as if he was hesitant to reply, but then after a breath and silence filling the room making it slightly awkward he replied, “Girl troubles.”

This didn't really surprise you. Girl troubles were common amongst your guy friends, and since you were one of the very few girls who they didn’t ever plan on dating you were used to giving advice. However a strange sort of ache began in your chest and you felt hurt. 

Just a friend, The thoughts whisper almost menacingly, he just sees you as a friend.

Ignoring the ache and the vile thoughts nipping at the back of your mind you raised an eyebrow and turned over your shoulder smiling playfully at him. 

“Oooo do you like someone, as a civilian?... Wait, no, you like a civilian.” You corrected yourself, blinking a few times as you finally began to feel tired. 

Instead of a reply, at first you hear the door to one of your cabinets open with a loud squeak. A rustling for a moment then the cabinet creaking closed. He was stealing your food. A soft smile and feeling appeared and you brought your legs up to your chest. Placing your chin on the dip in between your knees you sighed. 

Honestly you didn’t mind but, it frustrated you a little though, that you were always going to be the best friend never the girl boys fell for. You were for friendship, not dating. Something you were beginning to wish you realized just a little bit earlier, maybe this would then all be easier. 

“Yes,” Nightwing finally replied, “and it was just so frustrating because it seems like she hates me and likes my brother.”

You blinked and for a moment you thought about looking towards him, but you knew if he did he’d realize what he said. You had to approach this carefully, wrapping your arms around your legs you hum slightly before asking somewhat casually,

“Oh wait, you have a brother?”

“Ye-,” You practically see him nodding before he stopped himself. 

Curiosity got the best of you and you decided to push your luck just a bit . 

“It's one of the vigilantes isn’t it.”

Silence followed your question and you looked over to see him giving you a look. A look that said to stop talking, not to press further because you were hitting the nail on the head. 

A smile of disbelief appeared on your face and you pulled away from your legs, eyes wide. 

“Oh my gosh they are all your siblings aren’t they? But obviously they’re adopted. I know Signal’s black, I’m ninety-nine percent sure there was a blonde batgirl and a red-head, Blue Bird literally doesn’t look like any of you, and no one is able to see Black Bat’s face. Oh and don’t get me started on the Robin brigade.”

As you began rambling your hands flew around your face in a flurry of motion. The vigilantes were one of your favorite non-book things to talk about. Mainly because of the one in your kitchen but you really weren’t going to ever get into that... hopefully. 

“You’re not wrong, “He sighed before pausing, “...Robin brigade?”

“I’m not getting into it.” You shook your head turning back away from him. 

You weren’t about to tell him how ever since the first Robin came into play you like the vigilantes. Not about your opinions and theories, especially not when a lot  of them were about him. Waving away the question you decided to change the subject. 

“Anyways back to your girl problems. Why do you think she hates you?”

You could hear him munching on something as he probably contemplated how to explain the problem to you, “Well she never talks to me willingly, and when she does she always mutters or ends up sounding really angry.”

Twirling a strand of hair around your finger, you thought for a moment about what he said. It sounded a lot like what happens to you. Maybe this girl that he likes, also has anxiety and likes him, or it might just be because he makes her nervous. 

“She might just like you dumbass,” You snorted, rolling your eyes, “I know that’s how it is for me. I mean with the guy I like-, I can’t even say one word without messing it up. So I have to slow it down. ”

You heard more munching and the crinkling of a bag before he mused, “Hmm, you think so?”

“Yeah, or you just make her really nervous.” 

It was more than likely, for you it was both which only made matters more complicated and frustrating. Sometimes you wished you were normal, then this wouldn’t be a problem at all. 

“Makes sense... by the way do you think if you practiced you could talk to him?”

Practice? You had tried practicing in the past, but whenever you tried to talk to him your anxiety took hold of your mouth and you spat out a word jumble instead of what you really wanted to say. 

“Probably not, my anxiety always freaks me out telling me that I’m gonna say the wrong thing and scare him away because I’m too weird or something.”

He walked passed you into the living room before flopping down on your couch. You notice the bad and his hands and for the moment you decided to ignore it. 

“Well just think about it this way, you’re super cool and awesome. And if he can’t see that he doesn’t deserve you.”

You paused for a moment. and looked over at him in slight disbelief, “You think I’m cool?”

“The coolest.” He replied smiling at you. 

It was then that you noticed the bag he had was your Cheetos. While you didn’t mind, at the moment you felt... awkward. Standing up you walked over towards him and flopped down next to him. You needed someway to feel less awkward without sounding like a bitch... then you got an idea

“Aww, that's sweet...” You began turning towards him with a smile, “but if you take my fucking Cheetos again we’re through.”

For a moment you think you’ve made things worse until Nightwing bursts into laughter. Shaking his head he sighed and passed the bag over to you, with the bag now in your hands you looked over to him and took a moment to think over what he said. 

You’re super cool and awesome. And if he can’t see that he doesn’t deserve you

Sighing you sat down next to him and rested your head on his shoulder, pulling a small handful you ate some Cheetos then offered them to him. He began taking some.

Was he telling the truth? Or just trying to make you feel better by saying that. Not knowing which was correct you felt you had to ask him.  

“Do you really think that he wouldn’t deserve me if I make a fool of myself?” You asked as you felt him wrap an arm around your shoulder.

You heard him hesitate before you looked up to see him giving you a contemplating look. 

“If you make a fool of yourself he should be saying something like... like. I think- I think I might just love you a little bit.”

Snorting you rolled your eyes, looked away and remarked without thinking, “Sure he should because unintelligible gibberish is the way to a man’s heart.”

“If he’s worth shit he’ll think it’s cute. I know I do.”

You knew he was flirting with you, you knew because it was something he did regularly. Something that was common with his personality. He constantly, he was never serious of course, that much you knew. So when you looked up at him slightly snorting to see him staring at you a soft and serious look on his face your heart did the fluttery jump and your stomach flipped.

Fucking shit 

Looking away from him you felt your cheeks beginning to flush red. He was nice, he helped you feel a little less like an asshole, less like a bitch, more like a person. A good person. He made you feel cared for... and- and loved. He was amazing and a lot like All the man you’ll ever need-

Wait, no. No. It couldn’t be like that- no. He was hero- a vigilante. You would never be able to know his real identity. You wouldn’t ever actually able to be with him. No matter what your heart felt, no matter how spilt it was you couldn’t even entertain the thought.

His voice yanked you from your spiraling train of thought and you blinked. Giving you a soft smile he asked the question again. 

“How was your day?”

Happy to not have to think about your feelings again you raised your head off of his shoulder and turned to him. Fully prepared to rant and bare your soul. 

“Rough, honestly I made a complete and utter fucking fool of myself. I mean I panicked so much and I laughed, I full on laughed out loud. Cackled even, at the library. I never do that, and to make matters worse my crush, he asked for a book recommendation and I realized that he left his brothers, the two most chaotic people I know alone with each other and I panicked.” 

You were talking quickly, shaking your head as the words stumbled from you, embarrassment following it. For a moment Nightwing was nodding as if he understood when suddenly he sat up straight, looking at you slightly confused. 

“Wait, wait. What happened?” He asked an eyebrow raised.

“Well he asked me for a book recommendation and I realized that he left his brothers alone and I panicked and cursed at him before running back to make sure they weren’t trashing the library.” You explained again waving your hands about yawning afterwards. 

He blinked twice then gave you a shocked look for a moment, “Your crush? Wait, he asked for a book recommendation?”

“Yeah! And then I realized that his brothers-”

Before you could finish he interrupted you a strange look on his face, “Did he say anything else?”

Blinking in confusion you raised an eyebrow thinking over what he said, then you shook your head, “What? Oh uh no I don’t think so.”

“Hmm,” He hummed slightly a smile on his face before he relaxed back onto the couch, “okay.” 

Feeling confused and a little worried, you wanted to talk about how he was acting weird but didn’t know how. So you decided to continue talking about your day. 

“Well after seriously embarrassing myself by going that I fumbled over my words while trying to give him a book. Then I decided to flee so I wouldn’t embarrass myself anymore. I was like five minute away from leaving when a regular- Mira- I’ve talked about her before. Well she came and started talking to me, I swear that give has like a sixth sense because she instantly knew I was freaking out and was able to help me avoid my crush and his brothers... speaking of brothers. I’m like ninety-nine percent sure one of them likes her, or at least is interested.” 

Nightwing was smiling and he had an amused look on his face as if something was very interesting. Chuckling he looked to you seeing the confusion on your face he sighed before nodding. 

“Interesting...sorry but somethings on my mind. When you start to have an anxiety attack or think about something can you accidentally tune stuff out?”  He asked eyebrows raised

You blinked a few times before nodding and leaning against the couch once again. 

“Oh, uh yeah. Sometimes I’m spiraling into an anxiety attack or anxious thoughts I accidentally tune people out... well what happens is that the thoughts overpower my ears.” You nodded with another yawn. 

He nodded and gave you a strange sort of look, you were having a hard time focusing, blinking you kept your eyes open. Rubbing at your eyes you sighed. 

“Tell me about your brother’s fuck ups on patrol, I need a good laugh.” You muttered as you held back a yawn. 

“Okay then,” He replied laughing slightly. 

Leaning against his shoulder again you grunted slightly. After your long day you were finally feeling tired, tired and safe. Nightwing was saying something to you, but you were having a hard time paying attention. Your eyes kept fluttering shut and before you knew it you were asleep. 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

A few days later, you were in the library at your desk going about your daily routine when you spotted Jason in an aisle of book inspecting the pages of a heavy chapter book. Before you could spot any of the other Wayne boys Mira appeared in your peripheral vision a book in her hand and a smile on her face. 

“Okay, before you stop me I just want to say this book is amazing and when you have the time I want to talk to you about it because I need to talk to someone. All the people in my apartment complex are like fifty and above, married or five and under.” She paused for a moment a look of realization crossing her face, “Of course married people aren’t hard to talk to it’s just they don’t want to talk to me and I’m rambling sorry.”

You almost laughed, Mira seemed flustered, something you hadn’t seen ever. The ends of her hair were peeking out of her black hat in an array of different shades of purple. With flushed cheeks and her hazel eyes wide, Mira looked like something was bugging her. 

Leaning on the counter you let out a sigh, but noticed Jason approach towards your desk. A sly smile of sorts appeared on your face. If Jason was in fact interested in Mira a little push wouldn’t hurt, right?

“Unfortunately,” You began with a heavy sigh, “I don’t think I’ll be able to talk for a while... however, I’m sure Jason wouldn’t mind talking to you about it. He was actually the one who got me on the book.”

You gestured to Jason now stood behind Mira. For a moment, Mira froze before turning around, a tight smile on her face. She shot you a slight look of panic before she let out a breath and nodded. 

“Uh, if your willing.” 

Jason smiled at her and nodded. She nodded as well before giving you a quick wave goodbye. Watching them go you noticed how Mira stopped in an aisle still in your eye-line and sat down on the ground. Without even questioning it, Jason sat across from her. 

The library was quiet enough that you didn’t really need to strain yourself to hear what the two of them were saying. You watched as Mira opened the book, hearing Jason say,

“So about the other night-”

Before he could even finish Mira interrupted him her cheeks and ears flushing a dark shade of red, “I’d prefer not to talk about it please.” 

Nodding Jason let out a slight sigh before replying, “Alright.”

You were curious on what exactly had happened between the two of them, but before you could give another thought to it Damian walked up a stack of books in his arms. Raising an eyebrow you gave him a look,

“Starting a project of sorts?” You questioned as you began to check the books out to him.

Damian let out a slight huff before he nodded, “Father said I couldn’t get another pet until I know how to properly take care of it.” 

You paused for a moment to look at the books, they were non-fiction books about a variety of different animals. Spanning from monkeys all the way to squirrels. Shaking your head you bit back a laugh as you imagined Bruce Wayne’s face when Damian brought in all the animals.

“Hmm, I think there might be some more books about animal care in aisle five.” You remarked off handedly noting the gleam in Damian’s eye. 

“Really now?”

You nodded as you began to set the books to the side, pointing you showed him which aisle you were talking about.

“I can hold your books to the side while you go and grab some more, I mean you’ve got to cover all the bases right?”

While usually language like this would cause Damian to give you a look of distain, he bee-lined straight for the aisle. You laughed and turned to watch him when you spotted a guy standing right next to Mira and Jason.

“Are you here for me or him?” Mira asked not even looking up from her book. 

The guy blinked and a extremely confused look crossed his face. He gave Mira a baffled look as he said, “Why would I be here for him?”

A mischievous smile appeared on her face for just a second before she looked up at him, shock all over her face.

“Why the hell wouldn’t you be here for him?” She exclaimed gesturing towards Jason, “Have you seen him? He’s fucking gorgeous!”

You had to shove your fist against your mouth to stop from bursting into laughter. You watched Jason do something similar as his face turned red as his entire body shook. 

The guy went quiet and didn’t say anything else. Mira sighed and shook her head looking back to her book. 

“Well if your here for me fuck off, if your here for him…” She trailed off as if to let Jason finish her sentence.

He did, “Fuck off as well.”

A look of slight surprise was on Mira’s face as she looked to Jason, a smile playing on her lips. “Oh really?”

He nodded and her smile widened before she looked back to her book, looking surprisingly happy. 

“Awesome,” She remarked as she flipped the page, “anyways you heard us, fuck off dude.” 

The guy glared at the two of them and turned away cursing. You laughed letting out a sigh as you saw Jason and Mira share a look before they began talking about the book. 

Looking away from them you noticed Dick leaning on your desk a smile on his face. You flinched feeling your entire body beginning to panic. 

“Hi.”

“Oh, uh,” You remarked before giving him a smile in return, taking in a breath you continued, “Hi.”

“So I read the book,” He says as he pushed up from the desk. 

“Oh,” Is the only thing you can say, your mind felt blank as terror began crawling into every part of you. 

Breathe, you told yourself, remember what Nightwing told you. If he can’t see the real you he doesn’t deserve you

You nodded and tried for a genuine smile on your face. Something flickered on Dick’s face and he smiled brighter. 

“I was hoping we could talk about it over lunch or dinner.” 

You blinked, once, twice then three times as what he said was slowly sinking in. It took you a second to realize he just asked you out. Internally you began to scream, externally your pretty sure the smile was frozen on your face as a look of confusion began at the corners of your eyes. 

Taking in a breath you laughed slightly, nodding you let it out and tried your hardest to speak slowly. If you fucked this up you would never live it down, not only to anyone who heard the story but to yourself. 

“Oh, that. sounds. fun! Sure.” You replied smiling.

“Awesome.” 

It occurred to you, that you would be talking about the book amongst other things. And no matter his opinion you could give him other book recommendations. As excitement for the upcoming date raced in your veins a thought popped into your head, one of the whispers.

What if this is a prank? What if it’s all a practical joke being played

You hesitated for a moment before pushing the thought away. it wouldn’t-couldn’t be a joke. Dick was nice, nice and sweet. As your nerves began to climb up your throat you took another breath in. 

Breathe

Trust

You had to trust, you could do that. Shoving away your worries you focused on the fact that you could recommend more books... something you realized he didn’t know.

“Icabevrecbak-” You began before you heard yourself. 

Heat flushed your cheeks and you squeezed your eyes shut wincing. Peeking one open you didn’t dare try looking at him. 

You can do this, you just had to breathe

“Sorry,” You began not looking at him as you breathed and tried to take it slow, “I meant I could recommend more books if you liked that one.”

“It’s fine.” Dick said waving a hand as if to brush off the apology, “Honestly I think it’s cute.”

You froze, it felt as if your brain just short-circuited. Blinking you felt yourself give him a look of disbelief.

Honestly I think it’s cute, echoed in your ears and then you heard what Nightwing said the night before,

If he’s worth shit he’ll think it’s cute. I know I do

Blinking you realized that he continued to speak. Instead of pretending what was going on you gave him a confused look and he smiled. 

“I’d love if you recommended more book. How does tomorrow sound?”

You didn’t exactly know what was happening but you heard yourself replying, “Uh, great.”

You felt as if you were in a muddle, you could see what was happening and hear it but you could really feel anything. Faintly you heard a ringing and for a moment you were scared you were gonna pass out. A nervous laugh escaped you as you tried to breathe. An even wider grin appeared on his face and he leaned in towards you. 

“You get off at four right?”

Nodding you continued to reply almost robotically, “Uh yeah.”

“Well I’ll pick you up from here then.”

You blinked, the muddle was slowly fading and you were finding yourself again. Clearing your throat you nodded again. You could feel your heart in your chest doing it’s fluttery jump as your stomach did non-stop flips. 

“Okay.” You breathed out blinking again.

Dick nodded then shot you, what you can only imagine his classic playboy smile which sent your mind into a tizzy.

“I’ll see you then.”

“Uh okay, bye.”  You mumbled out as you watched him walk away not exactly sure about what just happened but fully aware that you had a date with him the next day. 

Holy fuck, you had a date with Dick Grayson. You couldn’t believe it, and as you felt your excitement race over you you remembered what Nightwing had, essentially, told you.

-You’re super cool and awesome. And if he can’t see that he doesn’t deserve you. 

 If you make a fool of yourself he should be saying something like... like. I think- I think I might just love you a little bit.�� 

If he’s worth shit he’ll think it’s cute-

Pressing your face into your hands you tried your hardest not to blush. Not only did you have Nightwing’s words playing in your ears but the feelings you had for both him and Dick. 

Fuck

You were completely and totally torn in half. After a moments thought you sighed. Maybe the phrase All The Man I Need wasn’t entirely true. After all one guy hadn’t exactly met all you needs, however if the both of them did have qualities that you needed- 

No, no you weren’t going to think about that. After all right now you needed to focus on one guy, he was after all the one you were more likely going to end up in a actual relationship with.  You had to focus on Dick Grayson... for now at least. 

For now. 

[mondscheinprinzessin]

Oh there was a second prompt list!

“Why won’t you let me apologize?" For aleksi with the band? 👀  

Aleksi had feared that the other guys wouldn’t be as forgiving as Joel, who had been easy to convince everything had been a misunderstanding, that Aleksi never intentionally ignored his message, that he actually would have been stoked to work with them. And his enthusiasm was genuine enough for Joel to see it as the truth, inviting Aleksi for an after-concert party, meaning getting beers in a bar and talking.

A friendship has easily been born out of it, even with Joonas giving them suspicious looks, but after a while he had thrown off his caution and Aleksi had ended the night happy and with two new numbers saved in Aleksi’s phone.

Both of which were texting so often and over the span of two weeks that Aleksi had given in and agreed to a studio session. Just checking out their work, he had said, nothing more, he had added. Better not to evoke new hope in them in case something else would thwart their plans. Aleksi wasn’t one to boast but he really was busy and didn’t have to be concerned about seeing an end to his pile of work, new artists lined up as soon as he was finished with one.

But he was ready to carve a small space into his week to visit the Blind Channel studio. Also Joel and Joonas were so kind, he doubted the others could be anything but, and he would very much like to meet the rest of the band he had been so eager to get the first CD of, proudly showing Joel the one time he had been over, almost making him cry in the corner of the couch and curling up like the cat Aleksi’s aunt has gotten recently.

Joonas uncovered it to be normal Joel behaviour, and with a sweet guy like that, his friends really couldn’t be any variation of mean.

Nevertheless he had asked them what he could get the others in addition to a small apology when he got around to visit.

After several dismissed ideas he had bought a sixpack of their favourite beer along with him although he had worried it wouldn’t be the smartest idea to bring that to practice, but Joel had promised they would wait with opening it till after.

Aleksi had even put a decoration band and bow around it as if he was bringing a Christmas present. And maybe it was just as important despite it only being beer. But the gesture was what counted.

Against his imagination the guys had cracked their cans open with a simple thanks, not wanting to hear anything about an apology, cutting him off whenever he had opened his mouth until he had given up with a defeated face and grabbed a beer for himself, sitting down on the couch, engaging in the conversation that was seamlessly taking him in.

But it wasn’t like Aleksi to simply let things go. Time and time again he had started off forming an apology but every time someone would talk over him with something random or meaningless, or he would get ignored himself, getting a taste of his own medicine, giving him even more motivation to apologies adequately because they guys deserved it.

Perhaps he wasn’t going the right way and the guys were waiting for a satisfactory apology? They could be quite the divas he had found and maybe his efforts hadn’t been enough yet.

But whatever he did, it wasn’t acknowledged.

Nonetheless it didn’t keep the band from asking him for help at their newest album and who was Aleksi to say no to such a great opportunity?

And spending time with them all always promised a good time, with work or without, with a bad conscious or without, while trying to give an apology or not.

-

“Oh hey Alex, good! I wanted to go over something with you.” Olli greeted him as soon as he had stepped into the studio, the last few days working on his own projects, but assured the guys a week of his worktime for now. “I texted you two days ago but you didn’t answer, so I waited with the part till you came around, is it okay if we start with the bass today?”

Oh no, Aleksi scolded himself internally already. “Did I ghost you? Again?” Pulling out his phone he went through his contacts and behold, Olli’s chat had a notification right next to it. How had Aleksi not seen it? Frustrated with his own habits of forgetting about his friends, he let his arms fall to his side and put on a sorry face. “Man Olli, I’m so- ”

“Sssh.”

Did Niko just shush at him? “What- ”

“Sssh!”

He did it again, were they kidding him? “Why won’t you let me apologize?!” He blurted out because it was getting ridiculous. “Am I doing it wrong? If you want to hear something specific just tell me!”

“Because then we would have to apologize as well.” Olli said quietly and immediately got slapped on the shoulder by Joonas and hissed at by Joel.

“Because you did what…?” Aleksi tried to poke deeper. Why on earth did they have to apologize to him?

For a moment there was an uncomfortable silence in the room, the guys shifting in their places, obviously uneasy. Then Joel shoved Joonas to the front.

Joonas sighed and said, “We got our friends to leave bad google reviews at your parent’s company sites.”

Promptly Aleksi started to laugh. “Oh my god you guys! That really is stupid. I thought it would be because of the name calling.” The others looked at him in various states of horror and surprise. “Yeah, your friends told me, honestly you were pretty creative there with some. But really, I think my parents will be fine.”

“You’re not mad?” Tommi asked. “We deleted them again, but still.”

“I think we all did stupid shit. I would say we’re fine.” Aleksi replied. Genuinely relieved that there wasn’t any bad blood between them, and he had worried for nothing.

“Group hug!” Someone yelled that was most definitely Joonas, Aleksi concluded when he was grabbed by him and pushed into the middle of what was the best hug he had received to this day.

[slashbitch2]

Extra Complications

never expected to be crushing on an animated character but here we are

Next Chapter

It was sneaky. Perhaps cheating by some standards. But from your perspective, it was a damn good plan.

Ironically you'd seen the advertisement for the Alchemax internship right after being flung into a wall by the very same woman who'd likely approved the broadcast. Olivia Octavius, or Doc Ock as you ought to refer to her in costume. Though she'd given you little time to read up on 'how to apply', as moments later a car was thrown in your direction, which was very inconsiderate of her, but was also all the persuasion you needed.

At this point, you'd be willing to do anything if it contributed to thwarting her, surely, very evil plan. Of course you admired the woman for her general genius and eccentricity, but the constant unprovoked conflict was becoming tiresome. It felt as if she were trying to determine how much of a threat you posed, whereas, you liked to think your legacy as 'that Spider-Person who sometimes saves the day' was all the evidence necessary.

Honestly, you weren't certain as to what exactly her, no doubt, villainous plan entailed besides patrolling the streets in green swimming goggles and black spandex with ridiculous plastic tubes jutting out of her back. In fact, it was ridiculous that no one had made any attempt to stop her yet. Unlike your identity, kept secret by a more modest spandex suit, hers was public knowledge.

Sometimes, it seemed as though you were the enemy here.

Which is precisely why infiltrating her team of scientists was more than appropriate. You were about to single handily take down an international threat, one hidden in plain sight, but left untouched due to the company's vast money, leverage and prestige.

Someday the city would thank you for your many sacrifices. Specifically for voluntarily working another job without pay. Y/N Y/L/N, broke intern by day, friendly neighbourhood Spider-Person by night.

"Excuse me?" A voice called from the left, your vision of them obstructed by an inconveniently placed potted plant. "Are you the new intern?" The person stepped closer, briefly glancing up at you, then back down at a sheet of paper. "Y/N Y/L/N?" The woman's timid appearance hardly screamed villainous scientist, but then again, looks can be deceiving.

"Yes, that's me." You stood, reaching out to shake her hand.

She sighed in relief, shaking your hand a tad too enthusiastically. "Lovely to meet you. I'm Marie and I'll be getting you settled in for the first few days."

A spark of disappointment flashed across your mind. Olivia hadn't been there for your interview, nor had any sway in your hiring, and now she wasn't even the person greeting you on your first day. Although you had no right to be, you felt rather offended by the lack of challenge she was providing. It was almost too easy.

---

To be fair, Marie was the perfect candidate to give you a tour of the facility. She was kind and patient, but not condescending. She seldom spoke beyond what was required of her, unless you asked something work related, when her lengthy response would affirm her status as an epicure of scientific knowledge. By midday, you'd decided she was someone to befriend, and subsequently accepted her invitation to have lunch together.

You were also hoping that the team would eat lunch as a group, but alas, more disappointment. Instead, you spent the break sitting in an awkward silence with Marie, who seemed to loose basic communication skills when presented with food. In spite of her lack of engagement, you still took the opportunity to try and ascertain information about the project you'd be working on, though each time she expertly diverted the interrogation, or ignored your question entirely.

Who knew working for an evil, secretive corporation would be so boring?

It was a test of patience to be sitting in the same building as Olivia Octavius, while forced to shadow an incredibly kind, but slow eating woman. Realistically, you knew there'd be plenty of time to investigate, though you were reluctant to end the day without any progress. So, while Marie was still distracted by her lunch, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom.

She dismissively approved with a wave of her hand, allowing you to slip away from the dining hall. You vaguely remembered the location of Olivia's office as being on the top floor, indicated by Marie's imprecise pointing. She'd explained that very few had clearance to get in, but you'd already thought of a way to get passed the security.

Who aside from the highest ranking scientists had access to every room? Janitors, of course. Because, for some reason, cleanliness was more important than security.

It didn't take long to locate a cleaner, or much effort to pickpocket the security card. To be on the safe side, you even had an excuse ready: that the man had dropped it, that you were simply looking for him to return it. And if Olivia caught you in her office, well, she wouldn't (Spider-Senses and all). Again, it was almost too easy.

There was a minatory silence as you walked along the final corridor toward her office. Part of you felt as though this was some kind of elaborate trap, the repeated phrase 'too easy' coming to mind as you reached the door. Though the logical part of you must've known this was a fatuous suggestion, and took control.

With a final pause to confirm nobody was approaching, or was already waiting inside, you scanned the key card. The action was rewarded with a satisfactory beep, followed by the door sliding open so fast it appeared to have vanished.

The office was smaller than you anticipated. Or maybe it was the bareness of the room that caught you off guard. The woman was insane, yet her work area hardly reflected her deranged mental state. Everything was so perfectly neat that you began to wonder if you'd actually walked onto a movie set, or a photoshoot, which would've explained the strange ring lights hanging from the ceiling.

Upon reaching the centre of the room, you were struck by the realisation that you truthfully had no reason to be here. Even if the office had been as messy as you'd expected, it was unlikely that she'd leave her super evil plans lying around. Rather, It'd been some morbid curiosity that had lured you here. To see where The Doc Ock worked, where the alter ego was likely created. The reality was underwhelming to say the least.

Deciding that you'd spent enough time admiring an incredibly bland office, you exited back out into the empty corridor, nonchalantly throwing the security card behind you, certain someone would eventually return it. Then, as if right on cue, you sensed somebody approaching, soon followed by footsteps resonating from around the corner. With no way of avoiding them, you kept your head down with the intention of blending in.

Olivia Octavius rounded the corner, not sparing a glance up. She was frowning at a piece of paper, her full attention directed to it, blissfully unaware of your presence.

Instinctively, your entire body tensed at the sight of her lithe frame and mass of hair spilling out of its messy bun. Any other circumstance and you'd have fled by now, through a vent, out of the window, it didn't matter. Though you had to remind yourself that there was no reason to be afraid now. There was no possible way she could know your identity.

Nonetheless, as you passed her with less than a metre of space, you held your breath. She said nothing and you both kept walking in opposite directions.

It seemed the coast was clear. You released the breath you'd been holding and kept moving until. "Hey, wait a minute."

You froze, aching to ignore her and escape. Her voice was deep, more so than you were prepared for. While fighting, few words were exchanged, and even then they were unintelligible. Although, now was the worst time to be thinking about previous interactions, so with much difficulty, you cleared your mind. As far as anyone knew, including yourself, you were just the intern.

You ran a hand through your hair nervously, straightening out your lab coat and turning to face her. She was stood at the far end of the long white corridor, entirely unthreatening when compared to Doc Ock, who would've loomed over you menacingly.

Remembering the role you were meant to be playing, you choked out a response. "How can I be of assistance?"

"You're the new intern, right?"

"Yeah." You considered approaching to shake her hand, but the idea of awkwardly marching the length of the corridor to greet her was rather unappealing. "That's me." You settled for a polite smile and shoulder shrug instead.

She screwed up her face in consideration before crooking a finger. "Come with me."

Swallowing any concern, you nodded hesitantly. The prospect of returning to the office you'd broken into only moments ago had you dragging your feet.

She waited patiently until you were by her side to continue. "Don't worry." She scanned her key card. "I don't bite." Her tone was playful, her eyes kindly mocking.

"Good to know." You muttered, following her inside. You took a second to look around the room with mock curiosity, feeling her eyes trace your every move. Like a predator, eyeing up its prey, determining your weaknesses. Unlike the encounters with Doc Ock, it was uncertain who had the high ground here. Her gaze was putting you on edge, not dissimilar to how your character of 'the intern' would react.

"So..." She shuffled some papers around on the desk, finding what looked to be your application. "Ms. Y/L/N right?"

You confirmed with a nod, summoning the resolve to amble toward her desk.

"Take a seat." She gestured to the chair opposite, letting you sit before proceeding. "Tell me about yourself, Y/N."

You started to think of an adequate answer, but she interrupted a second later, contradicting her initial inquiry. "Are you okay with me calling you Y/N?" She leant her head on a closed fist, narrowing her eyes.

Although the question sounded considerate, you didn't feel the implied sincerity. Even if you wanted to say no, that didn't feel like a suitable response. "Sure."

Somehow, it felt like she was establishing dominance through the polite act, and combined with being under her scrutinising glare, the performance was working.

"Great." Suddenly, she leant back in her chair, all evidence of the hostile act disappearing instantaneously.

"What'd you want to know?" Mirroring her relaxed posture, you attempted to re-establish some control.

"Oh, anything." A flicker of something passed in her eyes, piqued interest possibly?

You began routinely rattling off some basic facts about yourself, nothing too specific or personal. Facts that would answer any follow up questions she might have, and yet said nothing about you. Surprisingly, she seemed hooked on your every word. The thought crossed your mind that this might be the real interview, that everything else up to this point had been a sham. But you settled on a more unsettling justification. That she was committing everything you said to memory.

Coming to the end of the informative monologue, you decided to take a risk. "Do I get to ask a question?" You raised an eyebrow challengingly.

"Inquisitive. I like that." She stated, folding her arms on the desk. "Go ahead."

You decided to see how far you could push your luck. "Tell me about yourself." You smugly repeated her vague first query. It was the Doctor's turn to come up with an answer to the ambiguous demand.

She scoffed, realising your plan to make her struggle. "Touché. But I'm rather busy, so how about you pick a more specific question."

Narrowing it down, there was only one thing you wanted to ask. "Can I see the-" You waved your arms around, imitating tentacles. "the suit?"

She chuckled, slowly standing. Judging from her lack of surprise, this was likely a request she'd heard many times.

First, she removed her glasses. Then slipped out of her lab coat. Next to go was the shirt, which she pulled over her head while maintaining eye contact. You wanted to look away, out of respect, yet you didn't. Without the shirt, you noticed she was already wearing the suit underneath and had the harness strapped to her back, confirming your suspicion that she always had access to the weapon. As she was stepping out of her trousers, the arms (tentacles?) inflated, and within moments were threateningly extending to their full potential.

She smiled proudly, enjoying your stunned expression. "As good as you expected?"

"Better." Unable to resist any longer, you stood to investigate the suit in further detail. You'd never seen it stationary, or had the opportunity to try and gauge the details of how it worked. Although you argued this would be beneficial for your next fight, in reality you just wanted to admire the contraption. You circled round, marvelling at the simplicity of the design. It was convenient, yet elegant. "It's beautiful."

Coming to a stop in front of Olivia, she had an unreadable expression. A mix of emotions, most prominently confusion. To your delight, a faint blush coloured her cheeks. Whatever unspoken game you'd been playing, you were winning, or were until she said. "How'd you like to intern for me?"

You quickly recovered. "I already do."

"No." She sighed. "I mean personally. As my assistant? You'd get your own desk, an almost guaranteed job at the end of it and so much more experience than you'd bargained for." She leant forward, a little too close for comfort. There was an unhinged look in her eyes more reminiscent of Doc Ock that both convinced and deterred you. "So what'd you say?"

She genuinely wanted you to work with her.

This hadn't been part of the plan. You'd expected to spend no longer than a few months working at Alchemax. To uncover their evil scheme, figure out how to stop it and hopefully take down the company. An optimistic plan, sure, but one you'd been assured you'd stick to. Although, the opportunity to work closely with Olivia Octavian, with the Doc Ock, was too good to pass on. Not to mention, infinitely more interesting.

You grinned, embracing the insanity that your answer would incur. "I'd love to."

She clapped her hands together. "Great!" Then offered her hand for you to shake formally. "I'll sort out the paperwork and details this evening, but right now if you'll excuse me, I have business to attend to."

She left before you had the chance to say anything else, still in her suit, which left you confused for the following half hour. You finally understood upon catching a glimpse of a news alert on your phone.

Doc Ock Seizes Bank, Has Taken Hostages!

You sighed. Today was going to be a long day, and things were only going to get more complicated.

[the-duke-of-nuts]

The Battle Over Wine

 After 3 months I’ve finally gotten around to finish writing one of the Loceit headcanons/prompts as a oneshot! This is the first fanfic I’ve ever written that’s in actual sentences and not in script form so forgive the MANY grammar mistakes and shitty plot for I am terrible at writing and don’t know how spacing works on Tumblr (*cough* Betas hit me up *cough*) ANYWAYS literally nothing in this makes sense but it’s fanfiction so roll with it. Hope you enjoy I guess!

Prompt/Headcanon by the amazing royalty of Sanders Sides headcanons/prompts @imma-potatoo: Janus and Logan constantly battle over which wine is better (they are both wine moms) Janus says red wine, Logan says white. They can and will get into hour long debates over this

Pairing(s): Loceit, Background Dukexiety

Word Count: 2,400

Warnings: Alcohol, Arguing, Blood mention (Nothing major just comparing the color to wine), Remus being Remus (Let me know if there's anything else)

It was a typical day at the mindscape for the Braincell Gays. They had just finished filming a video with Thomas about helping him with his mental health and his overworking issues. Janus thought both of their inputs and solutions were a success and decided to have some celebratory wine with Logan.

"Today was a success, wouldn't you say darling?" Janus said wrapping his arms around Logan's waist. "I must admit, today was pretty satisfactory, especially since we both helped Thomas with his dilemma and we were both actually listened to for once." Logan replied wrapping his arms around Janus' neck. Janus smiled and pressed a quick soft kiss against Logan's lips to which Logan of course reciprocated. "I say this calls for a celebration." Janus said. "What did you have in mind?" Logan asked, curiously. Janus smirked and summoned two empty wine glasses "I think you know~" "Ah yes, how can I forget your traditional celebratory wine." Logan playfully rolled his eyes. 

"Oh you know you love it".

 "You're correct about that." Logan chuckled.

 Despite both of them having "serious" and "professional" demeanors around the other sides they enjoyed the little moments where they can actually goof off and make each other laugh and smile during their alone time.

 "So, what will it be for the menu for today my love? Will it be the best and most savory of flavors of Roscato red wine, or are we feeling a little fancy and want to celebrate with champagne instead?" Janus asked. "Oh, well I was thinking we should have something far much more adequate like white wine." 

The sound of glass shattering immediately followed after Logan’s response,

 "I beg your pardon?" Janus stared in disbelief trying to process what his lover had just said. Logan, his darling, the light of his life, his beloved, had just disrespectfully claimed that WHITE wine was better than red in his own home! Well, their home and the other sides' home but that's besides the point! This is wine they're talking about here! "Well, I thought I made myself clear but I shall repeat myself, I said that I was thinking we should have something much more adequate than red wine which I suggested white instead." 

Janus took a deep breath in trying to keep his composure

 "Starling?"

"Yes Janus?"

 "You know I love you right?"

 "Of course I do, you show and tell me everyday."

 "Well you're making it reeeeeal hard for me to want to show and tell you right now." 

"Why? Is it because I was simply stating facts that white wine is much more superior than red?" Logan crossed his arms raising an eyebrow. "Those are NOT facts those are lies! Red wine is much more tastier than white wine!" Janus argued. "Yeah, if you have a figurative bitter tooth! Red wine is way too bitter and the sweetness isn't as flavorful as white wine!" Logan argued back. 

"Y'know considering the fact that we have to deal with 4 other nincompoops in this damn house you'd be glad that red wine is stronger than white!"

"Janus, just because red wine contains more ABV than white wine doesn't make it the better beverage!" 

"Oh says who!?"

 "The literal personification of LOGIC and literally anyone who isn't you!"

 "Okay you know what? That's it!" 

Janus has had enough of the ridiculous bickering and decided to take matters into his own hands by summoning himself, his darling nerd, and all of the other sides back in the same exact courtroom him and Patton were in trying to convince Thomas to go to the wedding or callback. 

"We're going to settle this debate once and for all!" Janus dramatically pointed at Logan. "Janus, this is ridiculous! Who exactly are we defending for this to be a courtroom scenario!?" Logan glared at his lover. "Ourselves and the law of wine!" Janus declared. "What the hell does that even mean!?" An annoyed, confused Virgil yelled from the jury box sitting next to Remus and Patton. "Hush Virgil the adults are talking." Janus said not taking his eyes off of Logan.

"We're the same age!" 

"ENOUGH chit chat and questions." Janus made Virgil cover his own mouth growing tired of his complaining and faced Roman "Now, your honor would you kindly read off the charges please?" "Oh, we're doing this again, well alright let's see here uh, The state of Logan Sanders yadda yadda yadda, Janus, prosecuting for the state of Logan Sanders, under oath, information makes that Logan Sanders... Count one: Unlawfully and disrespectfully claimed that one alcoholic beverage was better than the other. Count two: Has terrible taste in drinks but better taste in men. Count three: Being too damn attractive for this world. Count four: Making Janus break two perfectly good wine glasses. Count five: Unlawfully not participate in self care by leaving his books all over the floor whenever he falls asleep while doing heavy research when he's supposed to be taking a break causing Janus to place a bunch of bookmarks in said books and put them away for him." Roman read off the charges Janus summoned him. 

"And how exactly were those last four charges relevent?" Logan asked. "Because they are and you know it! Your honor, continue." Janus said. "Being so charged, Logan Logic Sanders, how do you plead?" "Not guilty." Logan said deadpan. "Count six for being too confident in that answer." Janus coughed out. 

Logan rolled his eyes and shook his head, he didn't know who was more dramatic, Roman or his lovable self care wine loving snake.

"To make this quick and effective we're going to skip the other nonsense and get straight to the point by giving our UNBIASED views to each person and have them decide to see if Logan is truly a horrible wine 'expert'." Janus said as he arrived at the front of the courtroom 

"Alright, fair enough. Prosecution, your first witness." 

"I would like to call Remus to the stand!"

Remus appeared in the witness stand and immediately stood up and was about to jump over it and run "I can't go back to jail!" "Sit down Remus you're not going to- Wait what do you mean back?" Janus looked at him after doing a double take. "Nothing! So uh what's the question?" Remus immediately sat back down trying to change the subject. 

"Alright Remus, red or white wine?" 

"That's it?" 

 "That's it." 

"Alright, uhh hmm..." 

Remus thought about it thinking of the possible outcomes that could happen if he chose a certain answer. Janus noticed him struggling to make a choice and had an idea and smirked 

"You know Remus, if you're having a hard time deciding, just putting this out there, red wine looks like you're drinking blood and I think you enjoy that thought VERY much~" Remus gasped and instantly became excited by the thought "OOH! You're right! I could even add bone shaped ice to give it that realistic crunching sound!" "Objection persuading the witness with a biased opinion." Logan said. "Overruled. It's not really persuading since we ALL know my brother actually enjoys anything gruesome like that regardless." "I sure do!" Remus cackled at Roman's statement. 

Logan sighed a little frustrated, this was going to be harder than he thought.

"I think I rest my case your honor." Janus smirked and blew Logan a kiss as he walked back to his table to sit down. Logan blushed and shook his head to quickly snap out of it and walked to the front and cleared his throat as he adjusted his glasses and tie 

“Remus."

 "Nerd."

 "You enjoy pranking and getting on Janus' nerves is that correct?"

 "Yes that is VERY correct." Remus snickered. 

"And you despise when he forces you to partake in proper hygene as well as making you eat actual ingestible foods unlike deodorant and other non edible items?”

"Yeah."

 Remus crossed his arms hating remembering the times Janus would force him to take a bath and purposely safety locking the cleaning supplies cabinets just so he had no other choice BUT to eat regular food. 

"You also are not how they call a 'lightweight'?"

 "Nope!" 

That was a lie. Remus could drink three cups and he'd already become a drunk chaotic mess.

"Okay, so hear me out here." Logan started and Remus leaned forward becoming interested in what he was about to say. "Remus, white wine is clear therefore you can always "pretend" that you're drinking water so Janus doesn't question it for self care reasons nor harass you about it." 

Remus went wide eyed at the realization and wagged his finger at Logan. "You... I like you... Keep talking."

 Logan smirked, he got Remus right where he wanted him and continued. 

"Also if you were to spill it there would be no noticeable stain therefore making it impossible for Janus to become upset."

"Wow, you make some VERY compelling points Four Eyes."

 "Objection! I don't appreciate you persuading my son with your biased statements by using me as examples." Janus interjected. 

"Janus, Remus is not your son!" 

"You're right, my apologies. I don't appreciate you persuading OUR son with your biased statements by using me as examples."

 Logan rolled his eyes and shook his head not wanting to bother arguing with Janus about his logic. 

"I believe I've made my points your honor." Logan walked back to his table. "Alright, can I go now?" Remus asked. "Almost Remus. We just need to know your final answer, then you may leave and sit back down with the other two." Janus answered. "Okay umm on one hand I very much LOVED Jan's point about how red wine looks like you're drinking blood buuuut I would have to go with Nerdy Wolverine on this one and choose white wine because I enjoy pissing Janus off." 

"Yes!" Logan whispered victoriously to himself. 

"Oh you rat son of a bitch of course you would-"

 "Language!" Patton interrupted. 

"English."

 "Spanish! Now you!"

 "German. No! We're not doing a word association game!" Janus yelled frustrated. "Aw, what's the matter my charming smooth scaled serpent? Realizing you're losing against Logic?" Logan smirked. "NO and don't you dare flatter me using snake related petnames when you're looking like that in a suit!"

 Logan smirked at Janus' flustered expression, "Alright, then bring out your next witness then." "I will! Remus, you can leave now." Finally!" A relieved Remus announced as he summoned himself back at the jury box. Janus summoned Roman to the witness stand wanting to get straight to the point. 

"Roman?"

 "Yes Janaconda?"

 "You're the romantic one out of all of us correct?" 

"Oh my god you already know he is just get to the point!" Virgil yelled from the jury box slowly losing his patience even more. "Since you are an expert on the matter, would you mind sharing with the court which wine do you think is more romantic on a date?" "Oh that's easy, obviously red wine." "Interesting, care to elaborate?" Janus smirked and glanced at Logan. "Of course! Imagine having a romantic candle lit dinner under the stars or a picnic date watching the sunset, red wine gives those beautiful moments of being with your beloved partner a general relaxing and romantic atmosphere and it also tastes marvelous with various different foods. I'm actually quite surprised Specs didn't side with red wine considering it's good for digestion." Roman stated. "Wow, you really ARE a romantic expert! I don't think I have any further questions." Janus smirked and walked back to his table. 

Logan went wide eyed there's no way he can convince Roman, his answer was obviously clear but it's worth a shot. 

"Roman, have you ever considered white wine being just as “romantic” as red?" 

"Not really no."

 "Okay, well uh it can because-"

"Logan, I know you're trying here but trust me I know what I'm talking about. Don't get me wrong, white wine is just as delectable as red but I'm gonna have to side with Janus on this one." Roman interrupted and summoned himself back on the judge chair. Logan sighed and walked back to his table, he knew by the amount of confidence in Roman's answer there was no convincing him. "Fair enough..."

"Alright, Prosecution next witness?" Janus decided to summon Patton in the witness stand next and smiled innocently clasping his own hands together "Patton~" "Uh I know this is probably a really bad time to bring this up now but um I don't really drink wine so I don't really have an opinion..." Patton blushed a little embarrassed. Janus sighed frustrated and put his head down on the podium and summoned Patton back in the jury box "Of course you don't." 

There was only one person left and that person was Virgil, it was 2 out of 2 and his choice would be the one to officially break the tie and put an end to this illogical ridiculous debate trial. 

Janus summoned Virgil in the witness stand " Alright Virgil, what do you think cause I'm sure we all know you don't have an important input." 

"You wanna know what I think!?" 

Virgil was fed up and snapped his fingers causing him and the other sides to appear back at the house and summoned two glasses of wine, one red and the other white. He shoved the glass of red wine in Janus' hand and the white wine in Logan's

 "I think the two of you dorks-" 

"Dorks. Whale penises am I right guys?" Remus interupted snorting. 

"-Should actually ACT like you both have a braincell and never debate about something as stupid as this ever again!" Virgil continued angrily. "Maybe the reason why they both don't have a braincell anymore is because they both fu-" Virgil interrupted his boyfriend from finishing his inappropriate sentence by covering his mouth and dragged him out of the room. Roman and Patton followed them not knowing what else to do. 

The Braincell Gays stood in awkward silence holding their wine glasses realizing their silly little arguement was stupid after all. 

"Truce?" Janus asked raising his wine glass. 

"Truce." Logan smiled and raised his glass as well. 

They both clinked their wine glasses together and drank their wine happily enjoying each other's company and soon made it up to each other by agreeing to have a self care day together the next day.

[sarahjtrash]

Confusing Connections

Jurdan, 2.1K, Rated T

Summary: “You had to get surgery,” Vivi explains while putting the straw in my mouth. “The doctor said you might experience some mild amnesia afterwards.”

A/N: This has sat on my computer for probably a month. I can no longer bear to look at it, so I posting it. There are some mild QoN Spoilers at the end. Enjoy!

-o-0-o-

“You’re finally awake.”

The voice rattles through my head. Opening my eyes feels like dragging them through molasses, but I am too vulnerable with them closed. Beside me is a ceaseless beep that makes my ears pound. As I spin my too heavy head towards the voice, my vision slowly comes into focus, and I find Vivi in the bedside chair. 

“Why do I hurt so much?” I groan with a surprisingly croaky voice.

Vivi stands, presses a button, grabs a glass of what looks like water, and sticks the straw towards me. 

“You had to get surgery,” Vivi explains while putting the straw in my mouth. “The doctor said you might experience some mild amnesia afterwards.”

I try to blink through the mind fog and move my dense limbs as Vivi sets the water back on the little side table. All of Vivi’s words slip past me, expect “Doctor?”

“The surgery was one that the faerie healers felt uncomfortable trying, so you and Cardan decided that it would be best for you to come to the human realm since it is a more routine procedure here.”

The name sounds familiar, but I can’t remember why. I open my mouth to ask just who Cardan is when the door opens and the most beautiful man I’d ever seen enters the room. He wears simple jeans and a flannel, with a little Styrofoam cup emitting steam in his hand. 

Vivi lights up at his presence. 

“Good news! Jude woke up"—the man whips around to look at me—“she’s going through some amnesia like the Doctor said.”

With him looking at me full on, I attempt to swallow but find my throat to be thicker than the water Vivi gave me. His cheekbones and jaw line are sharp, and his eyes pierce into mine. My cheeks heat the longer we look at one another. I know my life is in faerie and could identify that the boy is fae with his pointed ears and ethereal beauty, but I am certain I have never met him before. For a moment, I wonder if he knows about the electricity coursing through my veins. It flickers between us for a moment, and I swear he feels it too. 

That is, until he hands the cup to Vivi. 

Of course. 

This man is clearly not of this world. He is not mine to have. He is, in fact, Vivi’s. I wish it weren’t true, and I desperately hope to communicate that.

Instead, all I say, very quietly, is, “Hi.”

Still, he has the audacity to give me a small smile and reply very gently, “Hello, Jude.”

His voice is like a soft purr. This beautiful stranger is too much for me, and I lament the universe for even putting him in my presence. 

I must have been mooning over him too much because he turns to Vivi and asks, “Why is she so loopy?”

“It’s the drugs, I think,” Vivi says. “I paged for a nurse when she first woke up, but they’re not here yet. I’m going to go see if I can flag someone down.”

As Vivi stands, she and the man share a look before the man sits and Vivi starts to walk towards the door. 

She looks directly at me as she says, “Don’t get into too much trouble.”

I have no clue what that could even mean with my heavy limbs and this stranger, but I do note that when the door closes, the air in the room shifts. The man pulls the chair closer towards the bed, and we both cringe at the squeak it makes against the linoleum. 

“How’s my feisty wife doing?” He asks.

Vivi and this man are married. I try to repress my shock, but there’s no denying his words. I thought that Vivi preferred, if not was only attracted to, women. This drugged stupor was clouding my senses too much if I am to forget something like that.

“I don’t know,” I say because I can’t make adequate judgments about Vivi when she isn’t here, and I’m doped up.

The man frowns “How was the surgery?”

“I mean I was asleep, so I don’t know. If you want to talk about it, I would ask Viv.”

“Vivi and I waited together for hours while you got surgery. I already know how she feels. I want to know how you feel Jude.”

With that, he reaches for my hand. Despite the drugs that course through my veins, I whip my hand out of his. 

“What are you doing,” I hiss. 

He looks stricken and oddly defeated. “We’ve been over this, Jude—”

“Been over what? You can’t be touching me and being emotionally close when you’re married to my sister! I think you know that I find you somewhat striking, but I will never help you be unfaithful.”

The man’s mouth opens and closes a few times. His brow furrows, and his head tilts to the side as if he is trying to solve some complex puzzle. “Jude. Do you know who I am?”

I look him over as he speaks, really look at him. Beyond the uncanny attractiveness, he seems drastically insignificant to me.

“No,” I say. “And honestly, I’m very confused because Vivi definitely preferred women from what I remember. Am I supposed to know you?”

He looks like I’ve shot him, and he reaches to grab my hand before thinking better of it. 

“My name is Cardan Greenbriar.”

I gasp. Cardan Greenbriar. This Cardan was not just any Cardan. “Vivi married a prince of Elfhame? Why are you even here? Shouldn’t you be in Hollow Hall doing princely things?”

Cardan releases a choking noise. “I’m not married to Vivi.”

“Then who are you married to? Because you asked about your wife.”

Cardan seems like he is trying not to laugh. “Jude. My full name is Cardan Duarte Greenbriar. We are married. You are my wife, and I am your husband.”

I throw my head back. “I’m married? To you?”

“Yes. And you married quite well.”

I roll my eyes as bits and pieces of Cardan’s misbehavior coming back to me. “That’s rich. I apparently married to the sixth to throne prince who is well-versed in debauchery.”

Instead of scoffing or showing any sign of be being perturbed about what I said, Cardan leans back in his chair and smiles. It overcomes his whole face, and while it is partially alarming, I can not ignore the butterflies that stir at that expression. 

“There you are,” he murmurs quietly, almost as if he didn’t mean to say it all.

I don’t think asking him to explain would really be beneficial to either of us, so I let his words hang. This left me to stare at him appreciatively and in doing so, my heart started to thump harder. The beeping of the heart monitor accelerated too.

Closing my eyes and licking my lips, I try to prevent the word from my mouth, but I just blurt, “I guess if we’re married, it’s appropriate for me to tell you that I think you’re distressingly beautiful.”

He looks stricken at my words, and before either of them us could respond, Vivi stormed in with what was probably my nurse in tow.

“I think she’s having more than slight amnesia,” Vivi explains.

The man hums at Vivi’s words and precedes to ask me questions about the date, my surgery, my relationship with people in the room. He seems fine with whatever my answers satisfactory as he begins to share my dispatch procedures. My head is still fuzzy, and I am grateful for Cardan and Vivi’s presence as well as the large packet the nurse hands me. They can remember the protocol on my prescriptions. As he talks, a few more nurses come in and help pull out my IV and sit me up. 

When I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand, a powerful wave of vertigo sweeps through my body, and Cardan immediately moves to help support me. He gently leads me to sit in the wheel chair the nurse had brought. Apparently the unsteadiness triggered something in my husband because he grips my hand in his as he wheeled me towards the car. 

I want to tell him that the whole thing was really unnecessary, but his hand feels too nice in mine to let go. I also couldn’t find it in myself to complain when he lifts me up and puts me in the car. Although, when he reaches for my seatbelt, I wave him away. I may be loopy, but I am not incapable. 

Cardan closes my door and goes to return the wheelchair to the hospital.

“Hey Viv,” I whisper loudly. 

My sister turns around in the driver’s seat. “What’s up, Jude?”

“Am I really married to Cardan Greenbriar?”

Viv releases one sharp, loud laugh. “It only took you three years for you to question that decision?”

Before I could answer, Cardan climbs in the backseat next to me. “What is Jude questioning?”

“Her decision to marry you.”

He looks over at me and smiles. “I maneuvered our union so that it seemed to be that of political importance, but we both had been repressing emotions that supported a more loving marriage. It worked out in the end.”

I nod as if what he’s saying make any sense. 

Vivi and Cardan begin chatting about various courts and human related drama as Vivi puts the car in reverse. Some of the people they mention sound familiar as my memory starts to come back in slow blurs. It still feels like I’m wading through mud. So it serves as no surprise that when Vivi merges onto the highway, and their conversation becomes too difficult to follow, I drift off. 

-o-0-o-

I awake because broad daylight punctures the blinds, which is odd given that we don’t have those in the royal suite. A spring digs into my back as well, despite the bed being made of feathers. A small trill of panic courses through me, and as I attempt to sit, the arm wrapped around my waist pins me. 

  My head is nestled against a hard chest and an arm wrapped around my back. Though I cannot be sure of who I am lying with, I have a fairly decent guess. A quick glance around shows that we’re on Vivi’s pullout which eases my stress. I look up at my companion to find him looking back at me. 

I clear my throat. “How long have I been asleep?”

Cardan tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. “Just a few hours. The doctor said that you may experience headaches though as the anesthetic wears off.”

I agree with his assessment, so he reaches for the side table and grabs a few prescription bottles. With his arms over both of us, he scans all the details for probably thirty seconds longer than any human would need to before he selects a few pills for me.

“I don’t know if I want to take that,” I say, unsure of his hesitancy. 

“You are the one who used to poison herself for fun,” he retorts. 

I do not have an adequate response to that and choose to swallow the three pills he hands me without argument. When he takes the glass of water from me, I burrow into Cardan’s chest. He tenses slightly at my movements. Though I knows the doctor, nurses, and Vivi probably told him about anesthesia, I would not be surprised if Cardan didn’t really believe them. If he thought that he lost me forever.

“Cuddling with you is a lot better when you aren’t a snake,” I mumble, trying to conjure something from our history. 

He inhales sharply. “Has your memory returned?”

I nod into his chest.

“So you remember all of it? Am I more to your liking in this form?”

“Yes,” I smile.

With a gentleness I am constantly surprised he possesses, he rolls us so I am properly on top of him. For a while, we just lay there, our breathing matching each others. My hands draw little swirls on his chest, and I catalogue the pain in my ankle where I probably had surgery. 

I mean to ask him, before he says, “Do you really find me ‘distressingly beautiful’?”

I roll my eyes at my drugged statement, but I still concede, “Perhaps, but it’s not as if the feeling isn’t mutual.”

With the reminder of my surgery, I can feel the exhaustion drag through my body again. Cardan’s hands rub up and down my back, and the movement feels supremely soothing. It’s pulling me down into a sweet abyss. Though right before it drowns me completely, Cardan kisses the crown of my head. 

“It’s a lovely world that makes me find you equally distressing, my sweet nemesis.”

-o-0-o-

Masterlist

[perspective-series]

Pet Perspective (10/19)

By: @arc852 and @hiddendreamer67

Warnings: talk of old owners, bad past experiences (being treated like a toy/pet), bit of possessive Virgil

First Chapter || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

————————————————————————————–

“C’mon, Specs!” Roman eagerly stood up, grabbing Logan’s arm and practically yanking the poor borrower into Patton’s hand.

“Gah! What about the carrier?” Logan protested, struggling to keep up with Roman’s incessant pulling.

 “Whoops, almost forgot. Sorry, Logan. Did you still want to travel in it?” Patton asked, feeling a little bad.

Logan gave a glare to his fellow borrower, pulling his arm back. “This mode of transportation will be satisfactory, but I did not want you to neglect it and leave it behind. Furthermore, it should be my own decision to consent.”

“What are you looking at me for?” Roman pretended to be oblivious.

 “I won’t forget it.” Patton said, standing up and packing up the blanket with one hand. He then shoved the carrier in the backpack before slinging it over his shoulder. “And Roman, apologize.”

“I have done nothing wrong.” Roman crossed his arms. “And you’re not my human.” He didn’t have a human. Not one he would listen to, at least.

 “I know I’m not but it’s still nice to apologize. You clearly hurt Logan’s feelings, kiddo.” Patton tried as he began to walk to the nearest ice cream shop.

“I would not waste your breath.” Logan said to Patton. “It’s clear this is just another act to demonstrate Roman’s lack of maturity.”

“Are you calling me a child?” Roman gasped, offended. 

“I was not, but I was implying you have the mental capacity of one.” Logan corrected.

 “Logan, that isn’t very nice either.” Patton said. “Now I think you might need to apologize too.”

“Why? ‘Nice’ is merely relative.” Logan shrugged. “I have said nothing incorrect.” 

“Maybe I think it’s nice to push you off, then.” Roman pretended to jerk forwards, smirking when Logan flinched and hurriedly grabbed Patton’s finger for support.

 “Roman! That’s it, in the pocket with you.” Patton split them into different hands before placing Roman in his chest pocket.

“Hey!” Roman protested, smart enough not to struggle too much as he was transferred. “No fair, I didn’t even touch him!”

 “Maybe not, but that was very dangerous. You still could have caused him to fall.” Patton turned the corner, seeing the shop. “You can come out if you apologize.”

“...I accept my fate.” Roman muttered, sinking into the pocket. Little did Patton realize that this was far more comfortable than a palm, and Roman didn’t have to share.

 “Alright but then no ice cream.” Patton warned, already walking into the shop with a slight jingle from the door.

...

Slowly, a little bit of hair poked out of Patton’s pocket, followed by a pair of grumbling eyes. Something was said that was completely muted by the fabric.

“I beg your pardon?” Logan said, putting a hand to his ear. He was rather enjoying this.

“I’m sorry!” Roman repeated, louder before ducking back down.

“I do not believe your sincerity.” Logan called back.

 Patton hummed. “Logan’s right. You gotta say it like you mean it.” 

“You asked for an apology, not a sincere one.” Roman argued. “Besides, Logan didn’t apologize to me either, and he’s fine. You’re just playing favorites.”

 Patton bit his lip. “...Alright. I’ll get you ice cream.” Patton gave in. “But no more fighting, you two.” He walked up to the counter and looked over the options. “What do you guys want?”

“Ooh! Do they have chocolate strawberry?” Roman was out in an instant, crossing his arms and holding himself up by the lip of the pocket.

“I have no prior experience and therefore no preference.” Logan reminded Patton.

“The nerd wants vanilla, because he’s basic.” Roman teased.

“Do not speak for my interests.” Logan gave a huff.

 “Hmm...looks like they do! One borrower sized chocolate strawberry please. And here, Logan. You can look at all the flavors they have.” Patton held the borrower up to the glass to see.

Logan paused, trying to take in the vast display. He was very literate for a borrower, but given the fact he had only begun building up his tasting palette a few days ago Logan had no connotation what any of these labels could indicate. Logan could only navigate by sight alone, and the containers were all so colorful that frankly Logan wasn’t even sure half of these were food.

“I’ll have, ah, chocolate strawberry as well.” Logan fiddled with his shirt, trying not to be embarrassed and hoping his choice was adequate.

 “You heard the borrower! Two of those please and I’ll have a rocky road.” The girl nodded. Patton paid while she scooped up the ice cream. Patton took his cone and two small borrower sized cups and sat down at one of the tables. He set Logan down before fishing Roman out putting him down as well. 

 “Here you go!” Patton said as he handed the two ice creams to them. 

“Thank you, dearest pap-sicle.” Roman gave him a dazzling grin, carefully giving his portion a lick. “Mmm, delicious!”

“Gah!” Logan jumped, seeming startled as he took his own first hesitant lick. He hunched in on himself, embarrassed by the looks the other two sent his way. “...it’s cold.”

 Patton chuckled behind his hand. “Well, yeah, they don’t call it ice cream for nothing.” He took another lick of his own, shivering in delight.

“Oh.” Logan looked as if he had been struck by a revelation. “That seems sensible.”

 “Sooooooo...how do you like it then?” Patton asked, excited to hear what Logan thought.

Logan shivered, taking more cautious licks this time. It was sweet, in a pleasant and not overwhelming manner. “It is a strange phenomenon, but I do believe I enjoy it.”

 “He likes it!” Patton cheered.

“I would be ashamed if he didn’t.” Roman put a hand to his forehead as if pretending to faint. “What kind of monster loathes ice cream?”

“I am not a monster, regardless of my tastes.” Logan deadpanned.

 “I can confirm. Logan is not a monster.” Patton said cheerfully. “He’s as sweet as ice cream!”

“What?” Logan looked baffled. “Why do I have a flavor?”

 “It’s a metaphor Logan. I just meant you’re really sweet, like in general.” Patton explained, taking a few more licks of his melting ice cream.

Logan still looked baffled about flavors, but rather than explain it to him Roman just smirked into his own frozen treat.

 Patton finished off his cone and sat back, patting his stomach. “Man, that was so-” He was cut off by his phone ringing and he took it out to answer. “Y’ello?”

 “Patton, where are you? Where is Roman?!” Virgil yelled on the other end. Patton winced before his eyes went wide. 

 “Whoops! Sorry kiddo, should have texted you. We went out to the park and for some ice cream.” Patton explained and he heard Virgil sigh on the other end.

 “Oh, good. Sorry, I sorta overreacted there.”

 “Not a problem!” Patton grinned. “We’ll head back home now. We were just about done anyway.”

 “Oh, okay good. See you soon then.”

 “Bye!” Patton hung up and turned to the borrowers. “Ready to head back home?”

Roman gave a slight nod, but he was more distracted by the conversation he had just overheard. Virgil had sounded so panicked. Was that a good thing? It felt like a bad thing, because it meant Virgil was clingy and if he failed another escape attempt Roman would definitely be punished. But then again… well, in a strange sort of way, it was nice to hear someone care, even if Roman knew Virgil’s concern was more for his pet in general rather than Roman as an individual.

“Yes, I believe we are both finished.” Logan spoke up, collecting the empty containers to hand to Patton.

 Patton took them and threw them away. “Great! Pocket or carrier?” He asked, remembering to this time.

“Carrier.” “Pocket.”

Both borrowers fought the urge to roll their eyes again at their disagreement.

“The carrier with be fine.” Roman amended his vote.

 Patton nodded and took the carrier out, setting it down and waiting for both borrowers to climb on.

Logan climbed in first, watching as Roman sulked to the back. “...are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” Roman lied, not wanting to discuss with a human nearby. Thankfully, Logan didn’t press any further.

 Patton lifted the carrier up and started walking. It only took ten minutes before he found himself back home, Virgil ready and waiting at the door. “There you are!” Virgil said, looking at Patton and then at Roman. 

 “Sorry again, Virge. I should have texted you.” Patton set the carrier down on the table.

 “It’s fine, just glad to know Roman is safe.” He opened the carrier and held out his hand. “Come on Roman.”

“Wow Virgil, keep talking like that and I might think you missed me.” Roman teased, climbing on.

 Virgil felt a heat rise to his cheeks. “Shut up.” He muttered. He nodded to Patton before heading back up to his room. He sat down at his desk but didn’t put Roman down yet.

“Now I’ve got you all flustered as well.” Roman practically cooed, holding up his pinky. “It’s like you’re wrapped around my little finger.”

 Virgil groaned, finally putting Roman down. “Whatever, so I was a little worried when I didn’t see you. You’re fine so everything is fine.”

“Why’d you panic so much, anyhow?” Roman asked, a bit of his actual curiosity creeping in. “Don’t you trust Patton?”

 “No, yeah, I do, I just…” He sighed. “He didn’t tell me he was going anywhere and I thought, maybe...but like I said, it’s fine. You’re here and safe.”

“C’mon, what’d you think?” Roman pressed, not letting Virgil drop it so easily.

 “I...I thought you might have escaped, okay!? But...But you promised, so of course I shouldn’t have been worried in the first place, right?” Virgil turned to Roman with a small but nervous smile.

...ah. “Right.” Roman gave him a smile in return, almost just as nervous but hiding it well. Was Virgil truly going to be so broken up if- no, when Roman did escape?

….did Roman even care?

 Virgil sighed in relief, his smile turning less nervous. “Good. That’s...good.” It looked like they were actually bonding, maybe? “So...did you want to do anything? I have another class a bit later but that’s a good two hours of free time.”

Another class. Virgil would be gone. And maybe Roman could make a break for it, if he was lucky. 

“Well, I don’t know.” Roman shrugged. “You’re the human, aren’t you supposed to make the plans? I’m just supposed to sit still and look pretty.”

 “I mean, I could but I...I want you to have more of a say on what we do. ‘M trying the Patton thing where I listen to you more. Seems to be working well for him.” Virgil chuckled. “And...I want you to be happy.”

Roman still found that so baffling. The idea that he could be happy here, no matter how gilded the cage, was simply impossible. Roman was made to be free, even if the world was determined to repeatedly rip that freedom away from him.

“I like board games.” Roman admitted, shifting slightly on his feet. “It’s been a while since I’ve played, but a few of my previous owners passed the time like that. I only like it when I play on my own team though, not- not as a piece.” Roman shuddered slightly in memory.

 Virgil furrowed his eyebrows. “They...they made you play as a piece?” What kind of person would do that?

Roman rubbed at his arm, self-conscious. “Yeah, some of them. The worst being the times I had to just hold still, and get manhandled across the board like a regular inanimate object. The times I’d walk to indicated squares weren’t so bad, but still humiliating.”

 “That’s...that’s horrible.” Virgil said. “I promise, I won’t ever make you do that.”

“Thanks.” Roman chuckled, but his heart wasn’t totally in it. After all, Virgil might get bored one day. Roman only had so many tricks.

 Virgil nodded. “What game did you want to play. I think we have monopoly, sorry, uno, etc.” The human listed.

“Oh, uno is fun!” Roman perked up, recognizing the name. “It’s also fairly easy given my...er, disadvantage.”

 Virgil chuckled. “Awesome. Wait, here, I’ll be right back.” The games were kept in the hall closest so Virgil went out to go and grab it.

Roman sat down, patiently waiting for Virgil to return. He could have made a run for it, but he didn’t. It would be such a small window of time, after all. No, Roman could be patient. He could do whatever it took.

 Virgil came back in and he was secretly happy to see Roman hadn’t even moved. “Found it.” He took the cards out of the box and started shuffling them. “Just making sure but you know all the rules?” Virgil asked.

“Yes, although there’s an additional rule when you play with me.” Roman spoke up.

 Virgil blinked. “Oh?”

“No cheating.” Roman gave him a slight glare. “I can’t hold all the cards so they’ll be on the table, face down. No peeking, and no grabbing the wrong cards if I ask for assistance, you cheeky emo devil.”

 Virgil held his hands up. “No cheating, got it.” He passed out the cards and set it up. “Alright, borrowers first.”

“I like that rule.” Roman grinned, lifting up his cards to peek at what he had. Satisfied, Roman dragged a red four over and placed it on the middle stack.

 Virgil hummed before placing a yellow 4 on top. “So, which owner did you play this with?”

Roman paused, placing his yellow seven up before he answered. He almost never spoke of his old owners, despite them often surfacing in his thoughts. “Rebekah.” Roman answered finally. “I mean, a few liked games, but she liked to, ah, play with me the most. She was ten when we met.”

 Virgil winced. “That’s...way too young to have a borrower.” In his personal opinion anyway. A child wasn’t meant to be around borrowers. “How...how long were you with her?” He asked, placing a yellow 5 down.

“Nearly a year.” Roman explained, tugging a green five up. “And I wasn’t Rebekah’s borrower, officially at least, though I might as well have been. She paid me the most attention. But that was… well, it was a family actually. George and Mary were her parents.”

 “Geez...I’m sorry.” Virgil said, not knowing what else to say. He put down a color changing card. “Blue.”

“How dare you.” Roman glared playfully at Virgil. “New rule, the borrower must win.”

 “Now that’s not a rule I will follow.” Virgil smirked. “If you don’t got any blue then you gotta draw a card.”

“Yes, I know how UNO works.” Roman huffed, dramatically stomping over to the pile looking a bit like a pouting child.

 Virgil chuckled as he waited to see how many cards Roman would have to draw.

Roman threw the three cards back to his hand, stubbornly placing a blue 3 onto the pile.

 Virgil smirked. “Hey, I don’t think you grabbed enough cards there.” He placed down a blue draw four.

Roman let out a loud groan, pointedly glaring at Virgil as he drew the four cards. “I loathe you.”

 “Aww, love ya too.” Virgil laughed. He put down a blue 7.

Roman went back, taking a few minutes to resort his expanded hand. He sorted by color, re-evaluating his haul.

“Rebekah wasn’t so bad.” Roman suddenly blurted, not sure why he felt the need to say it.

 Virgil blinked, furrowing his eyebrows. “Huh?” 

Roman cringed, hating himself for bringing this up and hating himself more for not stopping. “You asked once if I missed any of my old owners. I don’t. But there… it was better than the others, I suppose.”

Roman was quiet for a moment, giving his cards more attention than was strictly necessary. “Rebekah was too young for borrowers, but she was gentle for her age. It wasn’t so terrible. At least I came out sometimes, you know? And families- yeah, they’re kind of neat, even if it’s not your family but I don’t know, sometimes it’s nice to feel like you’re a part of something... even if you were never a part of it at all.” 

After all, the fact they had never come looking said enough about how much they cared when he left. 

 “Roman…” Virgil looked down, staring at his cards. “I know I said this already and it makes no difference but I’m sorry you were separated from your family. I’m...a little scared to ask about your other owners, if a ten year old was the best of them.”

Roman chuckled a bit darkly. “I meant the household. George and Mary were kind, in a human way. There was a dynamic between them that helped. Maybe it’s just that sensation of not being solely focused on entertaining one person. That’s mostly what happened with the others, sooner or later owners get bored of me.”

 “That’s stupid.” Virgil said, eyes hard. “You’re not a-a toy that people can just stop paying attention to. You deserve so much better than that!”

Roman blinked, shocked by Virgil’s outburst. “W-what?”

 Virgil felt heat rise to his cheeks for the second time. “I-I just...you do. You deserve so much better and I hope...I hope I’m doing a good job. And not making you feel like...like that. Like a toy.” Virgil looked away, rubbing the back of his neck.

Roman paused, re-evaluating his feelings. Did Virgil make him feel like that? Certainly in the beginning, with all the manhandling and tossing and name-calling. Now… now Virgil was just making him feel like one very confused borrower.

“...draw four.” Roman deflected, placing a card on the pile.

 Virgil sighed, taking the cards. He looked down at them, eyebrows furrowed. He wasn’t quite sure what Roman’s deflection meant, but he could guess. “I’ll try to be better.” Virgil said, determined.

“I believe you.” Roman said, and for once he almost did believe it.

But then his collar jangled again, making a noise to remind him of his place in the world as he placed another card up.

 Virgil put another card of his down, biting his lip. “If...If Rebekah wasn’t so bad...then why did you still escape?” Virgil asked a bit hesitant but his curiosity won out.

“‘Wasn’t so bad’ isn’t exactly my ideal state of living.” Roman almost snorted. “I had a better thing going there, and sometimes with the others I wished I was back with her family instead, but I could never stay.” I was still a pet, after all. Roman thought to himself, just as I am here.

 “...Oh.” Virgil shifted through his cards. “You’ve uh...you’ve had quite the life, huh?” What with so many owners and escaping so much. And even being a wild borrower as a kid.

“You’re talking as though it’s already over.” Roman smiled, this time a bit more genuine as he took his turn. “I’m only 23, I’ve got plenty of adventures that await!”

 Virgil blinked. “Whoa, wait a second, you’re older than me?” Virgil looked Roman over but he just couldn’t see it.

“I am?” Roman looked mighty pleased with this revelation. “Why, how old are you, then?”

 Virgil pouted. “I just turned 22.” Virgil revealed. “Well, that’s not fair.”

“Life’s not fair.” Roman shrugged. 

 Virgil looked down and smirked, his mood changing in an instant. “Oh, you can say that again.” He put down a card. “Uno.”

“What? Hey!” Roman’s face fell into a scowl, realizing he hadn’t been paying attention. He looked through his deck again, trying to find any cards that might stop Virgil from winning. “Cheater.”

 “Not a cheater, just a great uno player.” Virgil teased, chuckling.

“How dare you disrespect your elders like this, young man.” Roman growled, throwing up a green four and hoping for the best.

 Virgil rolled his eyes. “You aren’t that much older than me. And also…” Virgil put his last card down. “I win.” He grinned.

“Definitely cheating.” Roman crossed his arms, giving Virgil a good-natured smirk.

 Virgil chuckled before he glanced over at the clock. “Oh wow, that went by fast. I gotta head out here soon.” He started cleaning up their game, setting it off to the side. “Sorry to cut it short, maybe we can play some other games when I get back?”

“Yeah, I think I’d like that.” Roman agreed. “Then I can put you little whippersnapper in your place.”

 “Okay, enough with the being older stuff, it’s already old.” Virgil said but he was smiling. “Alright, in the enclosure you go.”

“That joke’s not as old as me.” Roman retorted, waving him off as he walked into the borrower home without complaint.

 Virgil groaned. “Whatever. I got to go. See you in two hours!” Virgil called back before leaving the room.

Two hours. What was Roman going to do with all that time? Perhaps he could spend it reorganizing his closet, so that he actually knew what the heck he had thrown in there. Or he could…

Roman paused, a slow realization coming to him. He hadn’t heard that familiar click of the lock. Was he just imagining things? Could it really be that easy? Roman crept up to the door, almost hesitant as he put his hand on the handle.

It opened.

Roman gasped, peering out into the room. Was his luck really turning around? Surely Virgil wasn’t this dumb. He would be back any second now to lock the door… but no, as a few minutes ticked by Roman quickly realized he wouldn’t be coming back. Either Virgil had forgotten completely, or… he trusted him. It was a shame that Roman would have to break that trust, but it was Virgil’s loss, not his own. 

Rushing back into the mansion, Roman was quick to grab up the bag he prepared for just such an occasion. He dashed out onto the desk, grabbing a few spare office supplies he knew would come in handy. The Lamp still sat at the back of the desk, and Roman slid down the cord with ease.

Taking a moment to catch his breath, Roman re-evaluated his plan. He’d have to be careful; after all, Patton was still home, this could go poorly. Roman snuck over to Virgil’s bedroom door, shimmying beneath it with a grunt and popping up the other side. He jogged down the hall, keeping an eye out for the other human, but it seemed Lady Luck really was on his side as Patton must have been cooped up in his room.

I’m nearly there! Roman felt adrenaline pumping through his veins as the front door came into his line of sight. He was tense, expecting any moment for Virgil to come back through and ruin everything. It would be bad enough to get caught again, but this close Roman was also in danger of being hit with the door itself.

By some miracle, the door stayed shut. This was even a tighter squeeze, but after several stressful minutes of scooting Roman sat up on the other side.

Roman blinked, putting his hand up to block out the sun. The sun. Though he had been outside only a few hours ago, this felt different because he was breathing the sweet scent of freedom. A grin broke out across Roman’s face, the borrower feeling his heart pounding in elation. This was how it was meant to be- no owners telling Roman what to do, no walls holding him in. Roman was a free man who could do what he wanted, and this time he planned to stay that way.

[hollowcrovvn]

Every Breath (RK900 x f!reader | reposted)

Rating: M

Pairing: RK900 x f!Reader Summary: Nines has you in his sights, all parameters designating you as his perfect potential partner. Though he is a bit confused on what type of partner that means. Notes: SHAMELESS PWP because I’m thirsty and needed a tall glass of Nines. I GOT TUMBLR FLAGGED SO REPOSTING (ao3)

Working with Gavin had been satisfactory. RK900's, Nines, performance had been holding steady at 96.2% effectiveness, but there was always room for improvement. RK900 knew it made the humans around it more comfortable to refer to "him" with masculine pronouns and had labeled him with the nickname "Nines" to further his assimilation and to avoid confusing him with the "other" similar looking but obsolete model RK800. It was unconsciously done, humans liked to be around their own kind, which is why he looked like this to begin with. There were probably better forms, more structurally sound and efficient, but Nines was trapped within this human shell. He envied computers sometimes, if only for their streamlined aesthetic, but alas, he needed a means to carry his bio-components from room to room.

Speaking of people who only existed to bring their brain room to room, Gavin entered the offices at that moment with you alongside him. Scans indicated heightened caffeine levels in both Gavin's and the officers bloodstream; coffee date? No. Account balances showed Gavin had only paid for his own. Nines relaxed back, crossing his leg to rest on his knee. He was programmed to display more human characteristics than the RK800 was capable of— well, before it deviated. Again, all simply a means to make him appear more approachable and therefore, more human. Did it work? Hardly. Everyone eyed him with unveiled suspicion. They had accepted the RK800, but such courtesy had not yet been extended to him.

He had to work on that.

"You're in my seat, tin-can." Gavin said, the insult having of late lost much of its malice and becoming almost as much of a nickname as the "Nines" he had bestowed upon him. Nines stood and moved to the opposite chair, feeling no need to argue the point that technically, it was his. Nines had learned his first week of Gavin's preoccupation with starting needless conflict, you on the other hand were far less simple of a puzzle.

You didn't like him, that was evident by your tone, refusal to meet his eyes and your micro-expressions that often expressed ill-ease. There was however, some other cues that indicated the exact opposite. Nines had categorized you under "mixed feelings" in regards to his existence.

You were an officer, but specifically you were trained for and worked in crime scene investigation and had been the rising star forensic photographer for about three years now. A quick file search showed you were still waiting to take the detective's exam, hoping for a career change. Nines disapproved. He wanted you to take your exam as soon as possible so he could submit his request to be reassigned as your partner. He had been watching you closely, examining how you worked scenes and how you processed evidence. He had listened in on your conversations with other officers to get an idea of your personality, hobbies and other personal information needed to determine how well you'd fit.

It was simple math. All probability suggested you would raise his effectiveness level to 98.8%. A 2.6% increase was very appealing, along with the fact you were the most likely to "bond" with him over Gavin or any other officer. Nines knew this of course, because of that the one factor you had that no one else did, the thing that filed you under "mixed feelings". Your pupils expanded when you looked at him and the beat of your pulse was less to do with fear and more to do with excitement. In short, despite your reservations, you were sexually attracted to him. He had paid attention to your interactions with the RK800 and found no similar reaction, which indicated it was specific to his model. Nines could work with that.

Parameters adjusted and he gave a friendly smile to you, making sure it reached his eyes.

"Good morning, officer. How are you feeling today?"

"Jesus," you said with a scowl, "You know, it's kinda rude to scan people without permission." you said, circles under your eyes, "It's called a hangover, Nines. Keep it to yourself."

"I didn't—" Nines started, noting now all the tell-tale signs of veisalgia now that you had mentioned it, "I apologize, ma'am. I did not scan your vitals, I was simply trying to be polite."

Unlike Gavin, your face lit up red, burning with sudden embarrassment.

"Oh..."

"Busted." Gavin said with a laugh, taking his seat.

"Er— sorry. I just assumed."

"It's quite alright, officer. It has been a very eventful week for you. Studying for the detective exam?"

Now the embarrassment turned into something akin to shame, veiled with anger. Parameters needed to adjust again. Somehow he'd said the wrong thing, as if he was judging her night time excursions.

"Do they program you to be a smart ass, or is that just you?"

"I am most certainly programmed to be smart." he said, definitely being one now.

Gavin would have reacted negatively to the quip, but your features softened and your expression became one of vague admiration for the joke.

"I bring it up because I would like to be of help. If you need someone to go over terms or do practice questions, I am able to access past tests and example questions going back several years."

"So can a computer." you said.

"I'm better company."

Gavin snorted as he listened in, shaking his head.

"Nines, why you getting up in her business? Don't you got some 001's to compile or some shit?"

Nines ignored him, eyes fixed only on you. He used his appearance and expressions to his advantage, artificially expanding his own pupils and leaning back in his chair in a way that was open and inviting. He had removed his jacket prior to your arrival and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, displaying the muscles of his arms and the broadness of his shoulders and chest more obviously. Human mating patterns were so *easy* to mimic and based on how your eyes were everywhere but on his right now, his efforts were quite effective. Your core temperature levels had risen slightly, a specific concentration noted between your thighs. An excellent sign.

You sucked a corner of your lip into your mouth as you appeared to consider the offer.

"Why the hell not?"

Gavin shot you an impetuous look.

"What? I need all the fuckin' help I can get. Might as well use the tools CyberLife saddled us with before they take over."

The words "mission accomplished" registered in Nines feed, invisible to all but him. A new objection presented itself:

Establish bond with future detective.

---

Practice was hardly something you needed. Based on your answers to the first few practice problems Nines determine you were good, very good. You combined the objectivity of academia easily with that human factor, that originality to approaching problems. It was obvious you hid these accomplishments from your fellows like Gavin, choosing to fit in more than stand out in that regard. As you sat diagonal from him at your kitchen table, eyeing over a new logic puzzle Nines sent to your tablet, he took the chance to open some files within his mind and peruse your photos.

You were also more than adequate at capturing a crime scene, there was an artistry to your attention to light and contrast, making sure every detail was preserved. This was more than just attention to detail though. Another search brought up more pleasant images, hosted on a freelance photography site under your name. The contrast of dark and light remained, both in color and subject matter, but the photos were more “light hearted” than a crime scene shoot of course.

When his attention came back to present he noted you were staring at him rather intently, tilting your head and sitting back and then forward a few times, adjusting him in the lens of your minds eye.

“Why did you want to help me?” you said, tossing down your stylus and heading to the kitchen. When you returned, you had a bottle of vodka, juice and a glass. Singular. You poured at least a double shot into the glass and chased it with orange juice. Swirling it unceremoniously you began drinking it very quickly.

“You would make a good detective.” Nines said simply, knowing that as you weren’t a direct commander, he could opt to ignore or even lie in response to certain queries.

“Gavin thinks you have a crush on me.”

“That’s not possible, I am a machine. But...” Nines paused, leaning forward slightly, “I hope we might be closer. I’d find it agreeable for you to “like” me.”

You hummed, finishing off your drink and going to pour another. Nines hand closed over the top of your glass, stopping you.

“We’re still studying, officer.”

“Thought you said you wanted me to like you?” you said with a slow smile, putting your hand over his own to move it aside. He didn’t budge, instead capturing your hand in his own and pushing it away.

“I do.”

“See, I’m not convinced, Nines.” you said, a challenge. Parameters were adjusting, fitting to the task.

O Convince

X Give Up

Choose Approach:

X Flattery

O Rational

^ Logical

"Would I be willing to assist you in passing your exam if I did not want you to have a favorable opinion of me?"

"Oh no, that I believe. It's the why, that you ain't sold me on."

X Flattery

O Rational

^ Logical

"You are a very intelligent and capable, woman. You deserve to make detective and I would consider myself lucky to work with you."

That was laying it on a bit thick, but something in his words had peaked your interest, a slow smile starting at the corner of your mouth.

"A "woman"— not an "officer"? So you can make the distinction then?"

Nines brow furrowed, slightly confused, "I am programmed to observe outward appearances and use of pronouns to establish the correct gender of a person, yes."

"There are lots of capable women officers on the force, and Gavin is a good detective too."

X Flattery

O Rational

^ Logical

"I know. I ran the probabilities. But if I were partnered with you, I would be better at completing my missions by a factor of two point six percent."

The truth at last. You sat back, grinning to yourself.

"And why would you think I'd stick it to Gavin and accept you as a partner?"

Nines paused, wording carefully, "Humans enjoy working with co-workers that they enjoy the company of. If you liked me more than Gavin, then you'd be more likely to accept such a request."

You stood, pushing the chair back as you came around the side of the table. You were close, close enough he could register that same spike in your temperature through his dermis without using a scan.

He looked up at you, purposefully expressionless.

"How were you planning on getting me to like you better?" you said, voice low, "Given your display at the office today, I think I know." You took the opportunity to take back your glass, setting it aside though as you seemed now more intent on a different kind of pursuit.

"Anyway within the confines of reason and legality." Nines answered, moving back in his chair to stand but finding himself suddenly incapable of doing so as you straddled the chair and sat down in his lap.

Nine— was not programmed for this. But he would be, in approximately .2 seconds as he downloaded the pertinent information. You leaned a forearm against his chest, resting the elbow of your other arm against him as you put your chin against your fist. You observed him with an almost casual curiosity, despite the way you sat astride him, the heat of you making his sensors spiral through several data points so fast his parameters shifted.

Engage in consensual sexual activity to solidify bond.

"You surprise me." Nines said, earning him another curious look.

"How so?"

"I never thought you'd be one to want to fuck an android."

His obscenity threw you off guard and you seemed prepared to protest, even drawing back and the shift in your weight indicating you were preparing to get back up. Instead though, Nines stood, arms bracing beneath your thighs as he pushed you up unto the surface of the table. The glass clattered, falling over and rolling off the table to land on the rug beneath with a heavy thud.

"Keep dreaming, tin-can." you said, pushing your hand flat against his chest. He made no attempt to get closer, "I only sleep with people who have a pulse."

Nines tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowed. He reached up slowly, grabbing your wrist and moving your hand a little further down on his chest. When you felt the pulse beneath, steady and strong, it was startling— the exact reaction he wanted.

"Qualifier met." Nines said, simple. Direct.

Despite yourself you huffed a laugh, "Well... fuck me."

"That is what we are discussing." Nines said.

"Too much discussing. Not enough doing." you said and the hand on the center of his chest balled into a fist in his jacket as you pulled him down, catching his lips in a biting kiss.

His LED turned from blue to red without even pausing at yellow. When you drew back, there was blue blood on your lips and the taste of thirium in both your mouths. Something in Nine's eyes sharpened, even as his lids fell half closed. He wiped the cut on his lip with his thumb, looking at the blood with vague interest before he cupped your face in his hand and smeared the blue across your chin and then up to your lips. Your tongue chased the movement and he pressed the pad of his thumb down against it almost as a reprimand.

"You're wearing too many clothes, officer. We'll need to take them off." Nines said, hands already undoing the front of your jeans. You tugged your shirt off, throwing it off into the room before straightening out your hips more so Nines could pull off your jeans in one smooth movement. The cold was a shock as you realized he'd managed to completely undress you from the waste down, your panties hem flush with the hem of your jeans as he tossed them aside.

You were left in nothing but your bra, which Nines hooked a finger in the front clasp, pulling it up a bit from your breastbone. A snap of his fingers and it was open, slipping it off your shoulders. It was not lost on you that Nines remained entirely dressed, still secured up to the neck in the high collared uniform.

"I can tell you like to misbehave," Nines said, stopping your attempt to pull him in close again, "But it's just to hide from them how you crave structure. Keep your hands down."

The immediacy in which you followed the command, setting your hands on the edge of the table, drew a half smile to the corner of his lips.

"You need direction. Someone to guide you." Nines laid his palm flat on your collarbone, slowly moving up your neck and then down, tracing the curve of your breast with the back of his knuckles. You arched your chest forward into the touch, Nines clicking his tongue scoldingly.

"Turn around, palms flat on the table. Don't move."

Something in your eyes sparkled, even as you did as you were told, however slowly you did it. Making a spectacle of yourself, swaying your hips invitingly as you bent over. Nines could barely stop himself from running his palm over your ass, squeezing. Suddenly that same hand was on your back, pushing you a little further. You gasped, the table cold on your heated skin, nipples pebbled and hard as they occasionally brushed the surface.

"This is why you would be a perfect fit... " Nines continued, nudging your legs apart with his own. He rested his hand on the cleft of your ass, spreading your vulva with his thumb, "... intelligent, loyal," he slipped his hand between your legs, cupping you, stroking your folds with his index and middle finger until you were up on your toes, trying to maneuver more pressure into the light touch, "...Obedient."

The sound of his palm connecting to your ass was loud in the silence, the cry that came from your throat even more so. You stood still again, moaning in frustration as you clawed at the table.

"Patience, officer."

"Just do it, for christ's—"

Another slap, this time it actually stung just a little, sending satisfaction in trembling waves down your spine that Nines could see with every scan. Despite what he said, he slowly slipped a finger inside, the sound so obscene with how wet you were already and so fluid that he was quick to add another.

"You're already ready for me, aren't you?" Nines said, moving faster, deeper. You had to be able to feel the warm trickle of your own fluids running down your thigh, "I know you've seen me watching you. Assessing your qualities."

His finger hooked and your body arched inward, jerking as you gasped, a moan strangled in your throat as he found that spot and pressed on it again and again. Your thighs trembled, tingling sensations collecting at the base of your spine and spreading out in a growing spanse over your body. Right when you were there, Nines stopped, taking his hand from you and wiping the fluid onto the side of your hip.

You made a noise of protest, rising up from the table, but his hand was on your back again, pushing you all the way down.

"You were happy enough to wait to take the detective exam— to make me wait. Now you wait."

It was quiet for a moment, not being able to see what Nines was doing was clearly both unsettling and arousing as he watched you wiggle, desperately trying to keep yourself still but almost coming apart with the anticipation. Nines unbuckled the front of his belt, unzipping just enough. RK900 were outfitted in every possible way, with the latest programming and technology in all aspects of human sexuality. It was effective in helping understand certain— "crimes of passion".

Nines let the head of his cock just barely brush your vulva, sliding it up and down the slick soft skin, enjoying the velvety feel of it against the sensitive modulars designed to simulate all the human sensations. Nines swallowed thickly, trying to keep his parameters clear and set while also feeling the conflicting confusion of multiple possible decisions. He settled it down to two.

Choose Approach:

X Deep Pace: Slow

O Quick Pace: Fast

"Show me how much you want me." Nines said, eyes heavy as he watched you look at him over your shoulder, bracing your hands on the table as you pushed back against him, trapping his cock between his pelvis and your ass as you bounced up on the balls of your feet, rubbing yourself against his shaft.

"Tell me you want to be mine."

This wasn't part of the mission. Why was he saying these things? Why were his biocomponents tightning— anticipating?

"Yes— I do. I do, please...pleaseplease, Nines."

Well. How could he deny you when you said such pretty things?

He aligned himself to your entrance and with a shaking sigh, sunk into you to the hilt. It was almost unbearably tight, your walls involuntarily spasming, gripping at his girth as you tried to adjust to the suddenness of his size and the feeling of delicious fullness. He took a ragged breath, pulmonary functions seemingly malfunctioning from what he could tell through the haze of his parameters, demanding, ordering he begin his approach.

Nines slipped out only slightly and then, still seated deeply inside you, he thrust forward hard and sudden. The sound of his hips against you was almost as loud as the slap, skin hitting together wetly. You whimpered, the shock of pleasure with just that faint mix of pain was enough to make your heart pound with anticipation for the next thrust. Nines drew back, controlled and methodical as he paused for a little bit longer, throwing you off each time he pounded back in. How he could possibly keep this up without loosing his mind was beyond your comprehension no doubt. Nines could feel your wetness soaking into the fabric at the front of his jeans, so smooth and hot. The parameters flashed in his mind

X CCCCCONtiN##UE P&CE O Faster

Nines gripped your upper arms, holding you down firmly as he snapped his hips forward, that perfect control slipping as he hunched over you, seating himself in as far as he could and then rocking in small tight circles. You broke out into a litany of expletives, your body moving involuntarily as you pushed back into him, moving your hips in pace with him.

"Oh fuck— oh fuckfuckfuck!!"

Your body was so warm, Nines only explanation was that he must have overheated. That was the only logical explanation for how quickly he spilled, spurts of artificial cum coating your insides with unnatural coolness. Your entire body shuddered with the force of your own orgasm, a sudden rush of fluid taking a moment to register in Nines addled mind. He'd made you squirt.

Nines took in a few unneeded breaths, finding it helped stabilize him. He released your arms and drew out carefully, watching the milky substance slip out from inside you. He used the head of his cock to push it back in, letting it drip back out around him. Nines hummed, quickly finding your discarded shirt and using it to clean himself before he tucked his softened cock back into his jeans, buckling his belt and adjusting his jacket..

"Careful." he said, noting you were righting yourself back up on unsteady legs. He pushed you to lean back on the table, using your shirt again as he kneeled down and gently wiped the mess from your legs, noting it had trailed half down your calf. He paused before wiping one trail, casting a quick look up at you before he leaned forward and swiped it up with his tongue. You huffed a laugh, euphoric and tired.

"Don't tell me you want round two already..." you said, Nines considering for a moment before deciding you were too tired for such a thing.

"No." he said, finishing up and moving into your living room where he took a blanket from the back of your sofa and wrapped it around your shoulders.

"You should hydrate and take an anti-inflammatory pain killer. You will be sore tomorrow."

"No shit." you huffed, leaning forward to rest your forehead into Nines' chest. He— did not return the touch, simply letting you use him to prop yourself up. He knew based on his downloads "aftercare" was an important aspect in any dominate, submissive sexual encounter, but part of him felt a bit ill-prepared to offer such "care".

"Get to bed." he said instead, an order that he knew you were not disinclined to follow, "You need to rest."

"You goin' back to DPD?" you said, sitting back up and gingerly covering yourself as you headed towards your bedroom, "Or... do you wanna stay? You don't have to, ya know. You ain't my first hook up, Nines."

That—

"I'll stay." Nines said, shocked at how fast he responded without consulting all his usual parameters.

You nodded, laughing to yourself at a joke he didn't understand as you headed down the dark hall. Nines looked around the room and concluded there was some additional clean up that would need to be done.

He didn't want to even begin thinking about the other maintenance this encounter would cause for him.

[scaredandbored]

the one with the sonic showers

for @julie-yard , (sorry it’s so ooc but it’s got DaForge in!)

word count (excluding the compulsory grouching i do in the brackets next because i ran out of space in the tags whoops) : 2233

(also this is my first ever piece of writing using solely other people’s characters so i apologise in advance lol)

(constructive criticism welcome just please be nice i cry really easily)

(hey so data is literally an android and geordie is CHEIF FRICKIN ENGINEER and i am Bad At Physics. so there are large gaps in dialogue which i would LOVE to do some more research on (not sarcasm i really would but i would get sucked into it and never actually write lol) but i’m more of a chemistry/biology Basic Bitch™️ so even though i’m supposed to know enough about sound waves to write that dialogue i don’t trust myself enough to do it)

(also, i’m a First Aid Responder, not a doctor, damnit! so all medical talk in this is me reading three (3) articles on chronic tension headaches and then seeming myself fit to write about it)

(sorry in advance, here you go!)

The alarm he had set for twenty minutes before the beginning of his shift made Geordie feel as though he was being hit repeatedly by a phaser. Wincing, he groped for his VISOR, slamming his other hand on the button that would stop the infernal shrieking. Logically, Geordie knew the noise was just barely above a soft trill, but as he rummaged around his drawer for his acetaminophen hypo, he was considering having a word with the senior medical staff about limiting the volume of the ships alarms in the interest of the crew’s wellbeing.

As usual, the hypo did very little for the inescapable pressure on his skull, and the activation of his visor did nothing but restore him to the state he was before the hypo. Grimacing, he dragged himself over to the replicator in the far corner of his room, toeing off the black regulation bottoms he’d slept in and tossing them into the laundry shoot as he walked by. “Coffee, black, sixty degrees Celsius.”. Hoping against hope the caffeine would keep the dull pain from spiking until he could administer her perscription later in the day. He rolled his head between sips of the slightly too bitter beverage, with the intention of loosening up in order to stave off neck and shoulder tension later in the day. “Computer, set a reminder to schedule a meeting with Dr.Crusher for me, will you?” The computer’s answering trill was, again, much too loud for his liking, so he gave a second order for all automated auditory responses to decrease intensity by 50%.

Sliding off his VISOR, Geordie decided to pick out his uniform and dress using muscle memory, the idea of putting his VISOR back on before absolutely necessary was enough to make his stomach turn, violently. “OK, so don’t put it back on, Geordie, it’s not rocket science.” he sighed to himself as he tugged the zip up, catching his thumb in his collar. Adequately annoyed at himself and already aching to take another shot of his hypo, Geordie lamented the fact he hadn’t decided to shower, the warm water would’ve done some good towards the inevitable spasms his upper back and neck would undoubtedly engage in later that evening. Sitting down, he pressed the heels of his almost-cool hands against his temples, rubbing around the terminals for his VISOR, where the ache was the worst. As he considered requesting sick leave and how to tell Riker he’d be missing poker tonight without raising suspicion, his communicator went off, the obnoxious trill sending a jolt of nausea through him as Barclay’s voice rang around his room.

“Barclay to Commander LaForge.”

Geordie winced and sighed before tapping his badge. “LaForge here.”

While Reg was relaying his message, Geordie reluctantly picked up his VISOR and clicked it into place. “There’s been several complaints shipwide about sonic shower malfunctions, the captain has asked us to assemble a team and look into it as soon as possible, sir.”

“Acknowledged. I’ll be in Engineering as soon as I can. Until then, Reg, you get a few ensigns and run a few tests on the basic functions in the malfunctioning units on the lower half of the affected decks. I want the results updated in real time so I can check them against the ones I’ll run. LaForge out.” Geordie considered popping into Sickbay on his way to see if he could get a muscle relaxer to avoid any serious cramping of his neck muscles, but the acetaminophen seemed to be kicking in, and he’d hoped this meant the worst was over.

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

After numerous hours of running several different sonic showers at increasingly higher frequencies, Geordie felt as though his head was going to burst. He’d missed the hour he was supposed to re-administer his painkiller by a good thirty minutes, and the ensign he had taken with him to the upper decks had noticed his smile was less a smile and more a pained grimace. When she’d suggested he let her run a few tests while he updated the logs, Geordie had politely declined with a small laugh and an even smaller smile. When she repeated the question ten minutes later, he complied without a word.

Lunchtime arrived what felt like years later, when Geordie finally caved and turned himself into sickbay.

“Hey, Alyssa, can I talk to you for a second?” Geordie held out his hand in a sort of rushed, half-thought out greeting that immediately told Alyssa what it was Geordie wanted to talk to her about.

“Geordie, maybe you should sit the rest of your shift out.” Was all she said in the way of sympathy as she administered several of his usual hypos. This was why Geordie came to her before any other nurse on the Enterprise. Her sympathy was just enough to get her job done and she kept her pity to herself for the most part.

“Well, you know what they say!” Geordie jumped to his feet, rubbing his hands together briefly before giving one sharp clap to test the rapidly receding pressure in his head. “No peace for the wicked. I’ll see you around, Alyssa, thanks for the help.”

As Geordie moved out from behind the thin curtain Alyssa had pulled for privacy, he found himself looking straight up at his best friend, and his heart skipped a beat. “Data!” He grinned.

“Geordie.” Data’s head nodded in acknowledgement. Geordie admired the halo his VISOR caused around Data’s head. “I fail to see the relevance between your chosen turn of phrase and Nurse Ogawa’s reccomendation. I also object to the comparison you have drawn between yourself and the afformentioned ‘wicked’.”

“Data, it was a joke.” Geordie smiled again, the combination of the slightly stronger meds and his closest friend reducing the pain to a tolerable level. The fact his crush on Data was all-consuming only meant he had something to distract himself from what pain remained. “And Alyssa was just being nice, you know how I’d love to take an evening off to fool around on the holodeck.” Geordie immediately regretted his choice of words, but Data remained oblivious, his concerned head tilt still in place.

“Nurse Ogawa is not known for the benevolent prescription of unnecessary sick leave, Geordie.” He opened his mouth as if to suggest something, before closing it again and taking a step forward, placing his hand on Geordie’s shoulder. Now, it was Geordie’s chest that was under considerable pressure. “Do not hesitate to contact me if necessary. I must return to duty.”

Geordie chuckled in order to hide his disappointment at the loss of Data’s hand on his shoulder, shaking his head fondly. “No problem, Data. I’ll do that.”

Geordie was nearly out the door of Sickbay when Data called after him. “I shall see you at poker tonight, Geordie.”

It didn’t sound like a question, but Geordie knew Data well enough to know he was hoping to prompt a response. “I dunno, buddy. I’m kinda tired, if I’m being honest. I’ll let you know later, ok?”

Data blinked once, then twice, then nodded, his head adjusting itself into a neuteral position. “That is satisfactory.”

This time, Geordie laughed, the pain in his shoulders creeping up on him slowly once again, despite Data’s adorable half-attempt at a wave as the doors slid shut behind him. “Computer, what time is it?”

The shrill chime that preceded the response didn’t particularly hurt his head, but Geordie could feel his shoulders tensing even further, and he knew beyond doubt there was no way he would make it to cards that evening.

That evening found Geordie still in one of those awful, shrieking showers. He’d been technically off-duty for an hour now, and desperately needed to take off his VISOR for ten minutes, but Barclay had taken one look at Gerodie’s drawn face and refused to leave him alone in the bathroom they were checking out. “Hey Reg, do me a favour?” Geordie needed to get him out of the room so he could slip off his VISOR and massage his temples. That, or he needed to stop working with the shower on; the high frequencies were really not helping his situation.

“Sir?” Barclay’s hands had stuttered to a sudden stop the minute his commanding officer had spoken.

“Could you run and grab a coffee? The Gamma Shift doesn’t start for another five minutes, we can take a break from this instantaneous reporting.” Geordie didn’t take his head out from the panelling they had removed half an hour ago, afraid Reg would see the pained twist he could feel in his lips and call Dr.Crusher. He knew he could handle it, it wasn’t the worst pain he’d ever had from his VISOR, and he’d managed to subtly administer another hypo when he’d gone to grab them both a water around twenty minutes ago.

“Yessir.” Was Barclay’s anxious reply, and there was a prolonged silence between his response and the sound of the doors opening and shutting. They’d had to shut down all replicator and environmental control activity while they worked, which meant Geordie had five minutes to give his head a well-deserved break. Clicking the VISOR out of its terminals and heaving a sigh of relief, Geordie felt his head swim. Taking a few steadying breaths, he fumbled blindly at the sonic shower’s controls, silently cursing himself for not having shut it off before removing the VISOR. Only succeeding in shifting the tuning to an impossibly more painful frequency, Geordie sat down on the floor of the shower, back pressed against the back wall, head falling back against the cool slate. He rubbed at his eyes. “Goddamn.” His sigh made his head swim once more, and his subsequent calming breaths only served to worsen the sensation. The constant drone pressed down on his head so much the pain from that morning seemed as intimidating as... Geordie couldnt think properly; he could only conjure up an image of Data as he worked at his desk in his quarters, resolutely ignoring Spot on his stack of PADDs, aside from his gentle, regular strokes. The image made him smile, which caused his tensed muscles in his neck and shoulders to spasm, violently. Again, the deep breathing Deanna had helped him with when he’d first arrived on the ship did nothing but worsen the sensation.

Geordie dragged his shaking hand down his face, which came away damp with what Geordie briefly considered to be sweat, before everything went black.

There was a hand on either side of his face, a comforting pressure being applied by what felt like a pair of thumbs around the terminals on his temples. “Do not be alarmed, Geordie.”

Data was whispering, Geordie noted, and his tender head thanked the android for it. “Data? What happened?”

The thumbs stopped rubbing briefly, but resumed without hesitation when Geordie accidentally, slightly whimpered at the loss. “You passed out while completing your tests on the malfunctioning sonic showers. Dr.Crusher administered a variety of medications which she noted in your medical log, if you would like for me to read them to you?”

Despite his hushed tones, Geordie’s head really wasn’t going to put up with any noise for very much longer. “No, no talking, please, Data.” he managed to get out, curling up a little, before starting, which caused his shoulders to spasm lightly. “Wait, my VISOR-” Data’s hands shifted to the problematic muscles immediately, massaging firmly.

“I have your VISOR on the arm of your couch to my left. However, given the negative effect it has had on your condition throughout the day, Dr.Crusher has requested you refrain from replacing it this evening.” There was a pause as a mildly confused but very tired and complacent Geordie allowed himself to be gently manoeuvred into a reclined position, his head in Data’s lap while the second officer returned his hands to Geordie’s head. “I am here to assist you in every way possible, and I have downloaded various massage techniques frequently used on those who suffer from long-term, extreme tension headaches.”

“Why?” Geordie mumbled, slowly drifting off despite the pressure slowly returning with a vengeance behind his eyes.

Another pause, the hands stilled. Geordie frowned and they started to move again, but the silence continued. Just as Geordie was about to fall asleep, Data spoke. “You are my friend.”

“Huh?”

“I am helping you because you are my friend, Geordie.”

Geordie smiled softly, shaking his head. “I know that Data.”

Another pause, much more brief, and the hands did not stop their gentle rubbing on his delicate head. “What was the purpose of your inquiry, Geordie?”

And Geordie, as much as he wanted Data to know, he couldn’t tell him. Couldn’t say he wanted Data to be there because he liked the domesticity of this situation, to be there not only to massage his knotted muscles and play nurse, but to hold his hand, to kiss his forehead, to... “No purpose, Data.” He sighed softly, settling further into his best friend. “None at all.”

His breathing had lengthened, he was almost fully asleep but not quite there yet, when he felt cool lips press against one of the terminals, then the skin right beside it.

“Hmmm, Data?”

A pause. “Yes, Geordie?”

A mumble, the beginnings of a snore.

Slightly more urgently, “Geordie?”

“Said, I l’ve ya,,,”

Several minutes of soft snores and gentle massages later, an almost unintelligible: “I believe... I am in love with you also.”

fin

i was going to put in a bit about Data finding Geordie because he hadn’t gotten back to him about the poker but then i felt like it took from the kind of,,, geordie pov vibe i had going idk

hope you enjoyed!

sorry for all the inevitable typos i did this on my ipad and i didnt proof read because i’m kinda using this one shot prompt thing as a warm up to writing as opposed to actually writing fic? idk if that makes sense but i enjoyed writing it and i hope you enjoy reading it!

[always5hineee]

The Final Bell- Chapter 13: Time for a New Ride.

Chapter warnings: Mild language and mild graphic content

Word count: 1487

Story is also available under Taffysamg on Quotev and Wattpad.

To see the full chapter list, go to the “Final Bell” Tab on my page.

-----

       "Taeil, this is the third town you've skipped!" Mark complained, pushing his shoulder lightly from the backseat. "We've been driving for almost an hour, when are you gonna stop?"

       "I'm looking for something specific." Taeil growled, stepping on the gas.

       "Specific like what?"

       "Specifically like you shutting your mouth."

       "I don't know why you're so grumpy, you wanted to come." Well, that settled that. Thankfully, it wasn't long before they pulled up to a city. Not just a run-of-the-mill, big area, like a real city. Hundreds of apartment buildings, parking decks, and skyscrapers were strewn out across the landscape, settled in their dust and concrete prisons. It was much larger than the place they went to catch Jungwoo's rats. It begged the questions; how had Taeil found it? And why here, of all places?

       "Alright, you guys wanted to bash some heads, there should be plenty here." Taeil stated, putting the car in park. "Don't tell Jaehyun, but I brought us two grenades each. If something happens and you end up in a sticky situation, you shouldn't have any trouble getting away."

       "Two each?" Mark asked. "Aren't you staying with the car?"

       "Why would I do that?"

       "Because you always do that." He responded.

       "That's not true. Y/N, do I always do that?" Taeil shot his glance over to her. Mark's quickly followed.

       "I, uh..." She stuttered. "I mean, I haven't known you that long, and-"

       "See? Y/N agrees with me." Taeil smirked with a satisfactory tone.

       "No she doesn't, she agrees with me!" Mark argued.

       "Guys!" She interjected. "Can we get on with it?"

       "I'm coming." Taeil said with an air of finality, turning off the engine and jumping out of the car. With some disdain, Mark followed, leading Y/N along. They walked through the city for some time, taking out any strays they managed to find. After a bit, Mark sighed.

       "Look, I know we practically just got here, but this blows. Let's find a horde!" He laughed. Taeil rolled his eyes, evidently not pleased with that idea.

       "Whatever, you do what you want. Y/N and I will find something fun to do." She looked back between them, both staring with expectations. She had no idea what she was supposed to do.

       "I, uh- we could all go together?" She offered. Both of them rolled their eyes, and finally Mark just grabbed her wrist, running down the street and onto a side road.

       "Catch us if you can!" he shouted back, sticking his tongue out at Taeil. She couldn't help but laugh, even if they had left their friend in the dust. "Now come on, let's go kill some shit!"

       They tracked down a horde, taking out about twenty or thirty of the disgusting creatures in one big dance of death. It was rather cathartic. As soon as they finished, though, Taeil came out of nowhere, surveying the damage.

       "Pretty impressive." He stated dully.

       "Shut up, I know you're not surprised." Mark muttered.

       "Mind if I borrow Y/N?" He asked.

       "Why?" Mark returned, suspicious. It wasn't often that Taeil asked for anything, but that made it all the more strange and unsettling. Taeil raised an eyebrow, looking between the two.

       "What does it matter? Can I not speak to a teammate" Unless I'm... interrupting something."

       "Yeah, you are!" Mark noted, earning two surprised glances. "Not like that! I- I just meant- Look, this was our plan to begin with, you just showed up!"

       "Can I take Y/N or not?"

       "Sure, but I'm coming with you." He argued. Taeil rolled his eyes.

       "You've got to be kidding me."

       "Take it or leave it." He took it.

       This back and forth disaster continued for several hours. Mark dragged her off, they killed some zombies, Taeil found them, they killed some zombies- and again, and again, and again. Every time, she fell into this position where both boys obviously wanted her alone, and she had no idea where to go. In one of these instances, though, something happened.

       They did manage to find a few groups, adequately bashing heads and taking out their anger and sadness on something other than the rest of the camp. They thankfully never found themselves in a particularly dangerous situation. It wasn't until Mark went on a strangely exciting slashfest and Taeil chased after him that she found herself alone in the foyer of a broken down office building.

       Surprisingly, the silence was kind of nice. Now that she thought about it, she hadn't really been alone alone since Jaehyun had picked her up that day in the street. Of course, she had her tent and all that, but it wasn't real solitude. Now, in such a big place with only two humans around, she felt more at peace than she had in a while. She loved her new friends, but this was refreshing.

       She walked down the street, looking up at the sky. Although still kind of green, it looked clearer than usual, and the breeze was nice. Closing her eyes, she breathed in. Somehow, for a single moment, it didn't smell like death. Just... fresh air. There was probably some scientific answer with the air pollution or the buildings filtering the wind, but she didn't really care right now.

       Cracking spines wasn't exactly the most stomach-settling activity, but this walk was helping. She hoped it could go uninterrupted forever. By the rules of nature, though, this meant that it had to be interrupted.  

       "Hey." She spun around, looking for the source of the voice. "Over here." Finally, she caught sight of him. Taeil was standing a good bit away, in the destroyed entrance of what looked to be an accounting firm. She walked over, tilting her head slightly in curiosity. He looked fairly nonchalant, but more importantly, like he was doing absolutely nothing.

       "What are you doing?" She asked, trying to make conversation as she approached.

       "Standing. You?"

       "Uh, walking." They looked at each other awkwardly. Well, this was going well. Finally, Taeil spoke again.

       "So, where's Mark?" She glanced to his eyes.

       "He's not with you? I kind of figured you guy would still be at it."

       "Wait, you're alone?" He asked, eyes widening a bit.

       "I mean, yeah, I guess I am." Before she could even inquire as to why this was important, he roughly grabbed her by the wrist, dragging her through the entryway of the building. She sputtered, searching for words as she entered the significantly darker space. The rushing of the wind was gone, replaced with the deafening silence of a dark, carpeted room. None of the lights were on, and she could barely see anything. She could most certainly feel it, though, as two hands very firmly pushed her against a wall, the wooden trim digging into her back.

       "What-" she started to ask, ash she felt him standing directly in front of her. Cutting her off, he pressed his lips to hers softly, silencing her. The kiss paused for a minute as he dragged back, taking a breath. She opened her eyes slightly, adjusting to the darkness. Taeil's were still closed as he sighed. She could feel the heat of it on her face. With that, he grabbed her face and kissed her a second time, much more forcefully than before.

       At some point, she found herself kissing back. It wasn't long before they were making out in this abandoned building. As it continued, though, she started coming to her senses. They were completely vulnerable to attack, not to mention Taeil had shown no interest in her before. What was he trying to pull now? Finally, she pushed him off a bit, breaking contact.

       "What's the matter?" He asked, gripping her sides desperately.

       "This isn't right." She sighed. After all, the last person who had kissed her had been... Haechan. "Look, I don't even know why you're doing this."

       "But you like it." He stated.

       "I didn't say that."

       "I mean... you kind of did." He laughed lightly. Noticing that she was not amused, he leaned in. "Look, you're the only girl around. People are bound to catch feelings."

       "Are you really catching feelings, though? Or are you just trying to get laid?" He looked taken aback.

       "When did I ever even suggest that I was trying to do that?" She raised an eyebrow, glancing down at his wandering hands. Quickly removing them, he looked embarrassed. "That was an accident."

       "We're fooling around when there are more important things to be done." She said. At this, Taeil groaned, getting more annoyed.

       "Come on, Y/N, who cares?" He leaned in for another kiss, only partially successful, as she only let it go on for a few seconds.

       "Look, we should go." She said quietly, dipping out from under him and towards the door as smoothly as possible. Without another word, they left the building.

Go to Chapter 14

[blurry-fics]

Chapter Twelve

Where Did We Go | Series Masterlist

Warnings: Angst, angry!Tyler

Word Count: 2049

Author’s Note: Happy Valentine’s Day! I hope you enjoy this chapter today :) (picture credit)

I idly drew doodles in the margins of my notepad as the team droned on about some matter that didn’t really concern me. My head was so heavy on my hand that I knew it would leave a mark when I finally pulled away, but I didn’t care. Next to me, Josh actually seemed to be paying attention, but he was still drumming his fingers on the table. I liked the beat.

Another song lyric floated through my brain, so I quickly wrote it down beneath the others before it got away from me. Lately, it felt like the only thing these meetings were good for was coming up with fragments of song lyrics and making my throat sore. Nothing else productive ever seemed to get done.

“We got the visuals back from the artists. I have some stills here, but you should all be receiving an email tonight with the full videos for review.”

Now this actually seemed interesting. I scribbled down the words “visual review” in the corner of my page, ripped it off, and stuck it into my pocket. Nobody seemed to notice.

“We think that the visuals are adequate, but not exactly as we intended.”

We?

“And as a result, we’re thinking about cutting the payment of the artists. This will also save us some room in the budget to put elsewhere.”

I leaned forward in my chair. People’s eyes immediately went to me, anticipating what I was about to say.

“Cutting the artist’s pay? How do we know if their work is ‘adequate’ or not if my team hasn’t even had a chance to do a full review?”

“Well our artistic board-”

“Exactly, your artistic board. Last time I checked, your artistic board isn’t the one putting on a show,” I said. “And no matter how we feel about the visuals, the artists did the work and deserve full payment for their time and effort.”

“But they didn’t deliver-”

“They did. The visuals were done to the best of their ability and provided by the deadline that we gave them. We’re giving them full payment and my team can decide whether the work is satisfactory or not.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Joseph, but then we’re going to have to raise ticket prices to make up for the losses.”

“What is all this crap about raising ticket prices?” My voice was getting louder now. “We gave you the budget months ago! Everything was laid out with enough money to cover all costs and keep ticket prices exactly where we wanted them, but your company decided to put things off until it didn’t work anymore.” Josh reached out and put a hand on my back. My shoulders relaxed, but my voice remained raised. “Our fans are not in charge of paying the price for your poor choices. That art looks fantastic and, if I’m being honest, the only people here that aren’t delivering satisfactory work is you.”

I stood up then, sending my chair flying out behind me. Josh’s hand fell away from my back. I turned on my heel and headed for the door, still fuming.

“Where are you going?” someone asked. I couldn’t place the voice.

“I’m taking a break. I’ll be back in ten.”

I walked down the hallway, unsure of where I was going, until I found a sign marked with the stairs. My hands were curled into fists at my side until my nails were digging into my palms. It had been a long time since I was this angry, but the stupidity of the company we had chosen to put on this tour was sending me over the edge. Tour was only a week and a half away and it still felt like we had more loose ends than we did answers.

Most of all, I hated that this was what I was missing out on time with my family for.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and immediately dialed Y/N’s number. She would know what to say to get me calm again before I walked back into that conference room. My leg bounced as the phone rang, alleviating only a small portion of the emotions I was feeling. They were quickly getting overwhelming.

“Tyler?” she answered. Just that simple word was enough to release some of the tension in my shoulders.

“Hi, love.”

“What’s going on? Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting right now?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, “Yes, but it’s not going well. I just blew up on the company representative.”

“Oh no,” she sighed. “What are they trying to get you to do today?”

“Raise ticket prices again! It doesn’t matter how many times I tell them I don’t want to do that, they won’t let it go.”

“Ty, hey, it’s ok. At the end of the day, you still have the power in this situation.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Is there somewhere else that you can cut costs a little bit? Weren’t you talking about maybe switching out some of the fancier effects for something a little simpler?”

“Yeah, there’s definitely places that we could do it, they just don’t like to listen to those ideas as much. It’s hard to convince them that it would actually help the budget.”

“I know, but it’s worth a shot. It’s like I’ve been saying, you and Josh just need to team up and get your ideas in there. Plus, you have Mark to back you up too. The power is there.”

“I’ll talk to them before the next meeting and really get things solid. I hate to ignore the progress that we are making, but the problems just feel so much bigger right now.”

“You’re going to get this worked out, Ty. I know you will. Think of how much you’ve been through to get here. Even if, at the end of the day, things don’t work out exactly how you want them to, you know people will be happy as long as you’re there singing the songs with them. You were popular even before you had the big productions.”

I sighed. “You’re right. I’ll try to keep that in mind. I just get so wrapped up in this vision that Josh and I created that I forget it’s the music that really matters. Thank you.”

“Of course. I know the show is going to be great no matter what you end up doing.”

“You always know the right thing to say,” I smiled.

“It’s a talent of mine,” she laughed.

“I just wish that I wasn’t stuck at this stupid meeting today.”

“It’s ok, Ty,” she said, but I could tell that her tone had changed. “You’re doing important band stuff. We’ll have a break soon enough.”

“I hope so.”

Our conversation was interrupted by the door to the stairs swinging open. Josh’s head poked through the door, quickly scanning the area. Relief came over his face as soon as he saw me.

“There you are. We need you back in the conference room. Things are happening.”

“Ok, let me finish this up and then I’ll be there.”

Josh nodded and disappeared again, letting the door swing shut behind him. I waited for it to fully close before I started talking to Y/N again.

“Sorry about that. Josh showed up.”

“I heard.”

“Anyway, I guess they need me back there.”

“Time to let you go?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright. I love you, and don’t let them get to you, ok, Ty? I know you can find a way to put on the show you’ve been dreaming about.”

“Thank you, Y/N. I love you too.”

“Bye.”

“Wait.”

“Yeah?”

“Did you remember that I’m going over to my parents’ tonight for dinner?”

“I remember now,” she laughed. It sounded forced.

“Ok.”

“Good luck, Ty.”

“Thanks.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

I ended the call, now feeling a different sort of discomfort in my chest. It took me a moment to finally get off the steps and walk out the door back towards the conference room. My mind was running its endless loop of questions, but no matter where I looked, I came up with no answers. It felt like a weight in my head, dragging me further and further down.

I hadn’t felt that way in a long time.

*     *     *

The meeting finally ended around four that night. There was another one scheduled for the next day - which the company claimed would be the last additional meeting we had to schedule - although after today’s events, I was feeling hopeful. They were finally starting to listen to the ideas that Josh and I had, helped along by the fact that Y/N had given me a new sense of confidence about the show. After a few more emails and phone calls, I was sure that things would finally start coming together.

My mom was the one to open the door when I knocked. She immediately pulled me into a hug, squeezing me tight enough that I nearly coughed. I didn’t blame her, I had only been able to find enough time to see my family once since I had gotten home from tour a week and a half ago, and most of my siblings hadn’t even been around. This time had been a little more planned so that Zack and Maddy would be able to stop by too.

“I’ve missed you so much,” my mom said, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

“I’ve missed you too, Mom.”

I went around and hugged each of my siblings and my dad. It was nice to have everyone together again for a family dinner. The last time we had a get together like this was before the Australian leg of the tour nearly a month and a half ago.

“Dinner is already ready, if you guys want to eat. I made it early since I figured you would be hungry after your meeting, Tyler.”

“Thanks,” I smiled.

Everyone stayed pretty quiet, aside from small talk, as we dished up our food. I was sure that my family was full of questions to ask me, but they knew better than to try and ask before I was settled at the table. Right now, my mind was on food and food only.

We eventually all sat down at the table in the places that we had been assigned since childhood. Once everyone was comfortable and had taken a couple bites of food, the questions slowly began to come out.

“How was your meeting today, Tyler?” my dad asked.

“It was alright. I kind of blew up on the representative today-”

“Tyler,” my mom chimed in. Zack barely concealed a laugh.

“Mom, listen, it’s only because they keep trying to make us raise ticket prices even though we’ve had the budget planned out for weeks. It didn’t matter how many times I told them that wasn’t going to happen, they kept insisting.”

My mom kept a disappointed look on her face, but deep down I could tell that she knew I was right. From day one, she had always made sure that I knew staying true to myself was vital as I continued to pursue music. That advice had stuck with me since.

“Are they starting to listen though?” Maddy asked. “I mean, there’s only like a week and a half until tour starts, right?”

“Yeah, they’re finally coming around. Josh and I have been fighting with them pretty much all week, though. They’re bringing us in for another meeting tomorrow.”

“Another one?” Jay asked.

“They flew Josh in?” Zack chimed in right after.

“Yes and yes. That’s how big of a problem all of this is.”

“Geez,” my dad said. “That sounds intense.”

“It is. I’m barely hanging on by a thread here.”

My mom reached over and reassuringly rubbed my shoulder. “You’re safe here, Tyler. We’re not going to let you fall.”

I quickly glanced around the table to see that the rest of my family was nodding along with my mom. Warmth spread throughout my chest at knowing that they still had my back, even if I couldn’t always make as much time as I wanted to for them. At the end of the day, they were still my family.

We’re not going to let you fall.

*     *     *     *     *

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